A Murder in Time(149)

“He asks me how you came into possession of the identity of the authoress, as he’d taken great pains to keep Miss Austen’s identity a secret. An even greater concern to him is how you could possibly be privy to Miss Austen’s upcoming work. While Miss Austen has yet to complete the book, they’ve discussed titles. Emma is one they have considered. He has no knowledge of the other book you mentioned, Persuasion.”

Little twists and turns.

“You are either a soothsayer, Miss Donovan, or you are indeed, as incredible as it sounds, from the future.”

Kendra held her breath.

“I have never set great store in soothsaying,” Alec said at last.

“How do you feel about time travel?”

“The same. But there is this.” He lifted the letter in his hand. “And you. I am inclined to believe you. Although I do not understand it.”

Kendra let out her breath. “That makes two of us.”

“The Duke may give us some insight.”

“I’m not sure that would be a good idea.”

Alec eyed her carefully. “You cannot simply sail off to America.”

“I’m stranded until the wormhole or vortex opens up again.” If it opens up again. She refused to contemplate that. Not yet.

“First you must heal, Miss Donovan. You need to regain your strength.” He touched the back of her hand. “You may be stranded, Kendra, but you are not alone. You are among friends.”

Kendra said nothing. After he left, she sank back against the pillows and wondered how that statement could be both sweet, and still so terrifying.





72

Alec left to accompany Gabriel’s body back to his family estate. He’d be gone a week. Kendra didn’t like the odd pang that gave her. It made her realize how much she’d miss him—miss everyone, really, if she accomplished her goal and returned to the twenty-first century.

The emotions churning inside her left her confused. Morland’s burial only added to her disquiet. She was still bitter over the cover-up, but the fact that no one attended his funeral except for the Duke and the vicar and his wife made her wonder. Morland’s horrors may have been hidden, but whispers had a way of spreading.

Slowly she healed. The swelling subsided. The black and blue bruises would take longer to disappear. The scars—visible or not—would never disappear.

Despite her injuries, Kendra insisted on attending Rose’s funeral. In contrast to Morland’s lonely burial, the amount of people who showed up for the slain servant was staggering.

No one seemed to blame her for Rose’s death, but Kendra couldn’t help but wonder if she hadn’t drawn Morland’s attention, maybe she’d be alive.

Could’ve. Should’ve. Would’ve.

After the funeral, Rebecca suggested a walk in the garden. Kendra knew there was a purpose, but she kept silent, content to meander in the sunshine until Rebecca stopped and gave her a direct look.

“My parents will be returning from the Barbados next week. I shall be returning home.”

Kendra held her breath. Technically, she was Rebecca’s paid companion. If this were the normal course of events, she’d be going with her to her family estates. But this wasn’t the normal course of events, and she knew she couldn’t leave the castle. If she had any chance of returning to her time line, it would be here, in the stairwell that had brought her to the nineteenth century.

“You will not be accompanying me, will you, Miss Donovan?”

Kendra stared at her. “There are circumstances . . .”

“Is it Alec? Pray tell, do you have hopes in that direction? I have seen the way you look at each other.”

Kendra didn’t want to think about how she or Alec might look at each other. That was a complication neither one of them could afford. “No. I can’t explain, but it has nothing to do with Alec.”

Rebecca was silent for a long moment, then nodded. “I would not want you hurt, Miss Donovan. Alec is a marquis, and the Duke’s heir. There are expectations, you understand? He must think of his lineage when he looks for a wife.”

Kendra shifted uncomfortably at the sympathy she read in the other woman’s cornflower blue eyes. This was a polite reminder, she supposed, that she was—how did they put it in this era?—beneath Alec’s touch.

“I’m not in the market for a husband, so you don’t have to worry. Really, my decision to stay has nothing to do with Lord Sutcliffe.”

Another long look. Then Rebecca nodded again and sighed. “You know, I shall miss having you as my companion.”

That made Kendra laugh, though it made her face ache. “I was a horrible companion.”

“Now that I ponder it, you have never once fetched my shawl or inquired after my health.” Rebecca smiled. “Yes, you were rather a wretched companion. Still, there was never a dull moment . . .” The smile faded. “Will you be returning to America?”

“I don’t know.” As much as she wanted to tell Rebecca the truth, the less people who knew about her situation, the better. She’d already decided to tell the Duke. She would need his permission to stay in the castle, to walk through the doorway at the given time . . .

Rebecca grabbed Kendra’s hands, her cornflower blue eyes brightening with tears. “I shall not say good-bye to you as my companion, Miss Donovan. I shall say good-bye to you as my friend.”