For All Time

  Rory heard the longing in his brother’s voice, but he wasn’t going to give him any sympathy. “If you want to come home, let me know.”

  It was Graydon’s turn to hear the underlying emotion in his brother’s words. “And separate you from Danna? I value my life too much. I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up.

  In Lanconia, Rory collapsed back against the bed pillows. So his brother did know how he felt about Danna. How long had Graydon known? What had given him away?

  Getting out of bed, Rory went to the window and pulled aside the heavy brocade curtains to look out on the lawn below. To his shock, there was Danna astride that big gelding of hers, riding on the path toward the stables.

  Rory knew he shouldn’t go outside, but even as he thought it, he was pulling on a pair of jeans. He grabbed a shirt and slipped it on as he ran barefoot down the old stone stairs. He shouldn’t do this. He knew that. Moonlight and Danna were not things he should put together. She was to marry his brother, not him. He was the UYB and he would never be able to give her what she deserved.

  But his thoughts didn’t stop him running across the lawn toward the stables.

  When Toby opened the bedroom door into the sitting room, Graydon was standing there waiting for her—and she drew in her breath at the sight of him. If anyone had ever been made for Regency era clothing, it was him. The trousers, the jacket, it all suited him so perfectly that he looked like a time traveler. At the moment, she couldn’t remember what she had been angry about.

  As for Graydon, he was staring at her in a way that made the blood rush to her cheeks. He looked her up and down, slowly, lingeringly, and when their eyes met, his were blazing.

  Usually, when a man looked at her like that, Toby turned and ran away. If possible, she would refuse to ever again get near him. But tonight, she took a step toward Graydon—and he opened his arms to her.

  She didn’t know what would have happened if music hadn’t suddenly come blaring from downstairs. It was a waltz that Graydon had found on the Internet. The sheer volume of the music jolted both of them out of their trance.

  Stepping back, Graydon extended his hand to her. When she took it, he began to lead her in a dance. She’d danced with Rory and had enjoyed it, but dancing now with his brother was something else. Graydon was strong but graceful. He held her closely but not intimately. They moved together so perfectly it was as though they were one person.

  It was several minutes before someone turned down the player, but she and Graydon could still hear the music clearly. He led her all around the sitting room, swirling about the furniture, close but never touching it.

  Her dress was made for dancing. The thin, fine fabric didn’t hinder her movements and it clung to her legs in a way that made her feel weightless, like she was clad in something made by elfin hands.

  At one point, Graydon put his hands on her waist, lifted her up, and swung her through the air to the other side of him. Toby’s laugh could be heard over the music.

  When the music stopped, he pulled her to him, her cheek on his chest, and she could hear his heart beating. She wasn’t sure but she thought he kissed the top of her head.

  For a moment she and Graydon didn’t move, just stood there with their arms about each other.

  It was Graydon who broke away and held her at arm’s length. “You are more beautiful than I imagined. You should dress like this every day.” He glanced down at the very exposed top of her.

  Toby smiled. “Cleaning the house, weeding the garden, all while wearing a dress with the top half missing,” she said as she stepped away from him. “But you … You finally actually look like a prince.”

  “But I don’t think I’ve been acting like one lately.”

  She pulled away from him. His words had broken the spell and she remembered their argument. “I think we should go downstairs.”

  “I have something to show you.” He handed her a rolled up piece of parchment with a blue ribbon around it.

  She unrolled it. It was a very pretty document, done in what looked to be hand calligraphy, but it was all in Lanconian. At the bottom was a wax seal and a bold black signature. “What is it?”

  “Basically, it’s Daire’s freedom. He can marry whomever he wants and he’ll still inherit the title and lands in his family. Daire’s father is an irascible old man, and without threats from the king, he would disinherit his son if he married someone unsuitable. Everything would have gone to Daire’s cousin, who is a nasty little character. Daire didn’t want to be the one who destroyed his very old and distinguished family.”

  “You got your father to sign this?”

  “Through Rory, yes,” Graydon said. “I would have done it years ago if I’d had any idea that Daire was displeased with his family’s choice of bride. But he never complained to me.”

  “And Lorcan has never talked to me about her feelings for Daire, even though I’ve tried to get her to.” She looked up at him.

  “I am sorry,” he said. “These last few days have been …”

  She put her fingertips to his lips. “Tonight we are Tabitha and Garrett and we have no differences in country policies.”

  “I like that,” he said and put his arm out for her to take. “And tomorrow be damned.”

  When they got near the bottom of the front stairs, everyone suddenly stopped and stared—but Victoria reacted the most strongly. She looked at Toby as though she’d never seen such a sight in her life. Her expression seemed to be of shock, but also, there was … Was it recognition? Toby couldn’t help wondering.

  The other three stepped back and let Victoria absorb the sight of the two young people standing on the stairs. They certainly made a handsome couple! Graydon’s black jacket showed his broad shoulders and trim waist; the trousers clung to thighs thickly muscled from years atop unruly horses.

  As for Toby, she was breathtaking. The white, gossamer-thin gown suited her perfectly. The low-cut neckline, the way the fabric skimmed over her hips, the hint of transparency, all of it seemed to have been created just for her.

  They all stood still, transfixed, as everyone waited to hear what Victoria was going to say. After several long moments, she turned to Caleb. “This is what I will wear when I marry you,” she said softly. Victoria’s eyes were so full of love that everyone felt they were seeing something very private.

  Caleb gave a bit of a smile, then he bowed—as a man from Jane Austen’s time might do. In return, Victoria performed an absolutely perfect curtsy.

  After that pretty little vignette, everyone began talking, mainly about how great Toby and Graydon looked. Victoria took Toby’s arm and led her to a corner of the living room.

  “I knew you would come up with the perfect theme. But, darling,” Victoria said as she lowered her voice, “next time, leave the slip off. Show what you have while you still have it.” She looked up. “Caleb, dearest, have we run out of champagne already?”

  The four older adults gathered around the cabinet where that afternoon Ken had set up a drinks bar.

  “Did Victoria thank you for all your work?” Graydon asked from behind Toby.

  “Yes. Sort of. And she told me I should have on fewer undergarments.”

  “Victoria is a very wise woman.”

  “Not going to happen,” Toby said as she joined the others.

  The dinner was a great success. As was the eighteenth-century custom, all the dishes had been put on the table, with desserts on the sideboard. As soon as the soup—pea with cucumber and mint—was finished, Ken took away the tureen. They helped themselves to meatballs with anchovies and cayenne pepper, sole in wine with mushrooms, vermouth-enhanced scallops, oysters on vol-au-vent pastries under a cream sauce, and little stuffed game birds that were crisp and tender. There were several vegetables, each with its own sauce.

  Everyone ate ravenously, filling and refilling their plates.

  “Now, this is food!” Caleb said, then began a diatribe against pizza, burgers, and even sandwiches.

&nb
sp; Toby expected everyone to protest, but instead they all agreed with him. In fact, the four of them seemed to agree about everything. There was no sniping between the formerly married Victoria and Ken, no disagreements at all. Everyone spoke of what they’d been doing over the last weeks, but it was Dr. Huntley who stole the spotlight. He entertained them with the story of how Captain Caleb and Valentina met in 1806. The captain had returned early from a lucrative voyage to China and found his new house being used by the builder for his own wedding. “The captain was so annoyed he took a keg of rum and went up to the attic to … to meditate.”

  “Sounds like he wanted to get drunk and sulk,” Ken said.

  “It depends on how you look at it,” Dr. Huntley replied, but he was smiling. “The captain had been up there just a short time when the very beautiful”—he looked at Victoria—“Valentina came upstairs. She had on a dress that …” He motioned with his hands to mean that it was very low cut. “Since the captain had been places that weren’t as prudish as America, he thought she wasn’t a respectable woman—which was quite understandable. He … Well, he …”

  “He made a pass at her?” Jilly said.

  “With a bit of, shall we say, ‘passion’ attached to it. And she agreed.”

  “Really?” Victoria, who had never heard the story, said. “Just like that, she said yes?”

  “At least the captain thought she did,” Dr. Huntley said with a funny little smile. “But it wasn’t so. However, she was convincing enough that she persuaded the captain to remove all his clothing.”

  “Oh, my!” Jilly said.

  “Then what did she do?” Victoria asked, leaning forward, her eyes alight.

  “Valentina Montgomery took the captain’s clothes, left the room, and locked the door behind her. The wedding downstairs was so loud that the captain wasn’t let out until the next morning. By then, he’d nearly frozen to death.” He looked around at the faces at the table with an expression as though he expected sympathy. Instead, he got an explosion of laughter.

  When she could catch her breath, Toby said, “And I take it that from there they fell madly in love.”

  Dr. Huntley took Victoria’s hand and kissed it. “Yes, they did.” He raised his glass in a toast. “Here’s to good food, to friends, and to life. But most of all, to love that endures forever.”

  They drank to the toast, then Ken said, “Shall we have dessert?”

  Jilly made pots of Assam tea, and everyone filled their plates with lemon cheesecake, molasses cookies called Joe Froggers, slices of fruity yeast cake, and bowls of vanilla custard laced with brandy. Afterward, there were cheeses, raisins, and nuts, followed by more tea and glasses of port.

  After the dinner, Caleb insisted that there be dancing. They went into the living room, with its low beamed ceiling. All electric lights were turned out, with only candles remaining. Caleb pulled Victoria into his arms and led her in a dance that had to be a few hundred years old. The others stood back and watched as they performed it perfectly. “It’s your turn now,” he said to the others when the music stopped.

  He pulled a packet of pipe tobacco out of his pocket, then pushed on a corner of the old fireplace, and a door popped open—which astonished them all. Inside were three pipes that looked very old.

  “How did you know that door was there?” Toby asked.

  “Captain Caleb’s son, the first Jared, didn’t want a life at sea, so he stayed home and built houses that his wife designed. Unfortunately, what they did together has been lost to history.” He sounded almost bitter.

  That was an interesting historical tidbit, but it was no answer at all. “But how did you—” Toby began, but Caleb cut her off.

  “I think you and your prince should dance,” he said, showing that he had no intention of answering her question. He took one of the pipes, packed it, and sat down on the settee next to Victoria, while Jilly and Ken took chairs next to each other. The music began and the older people were content to watch Toby and Graydon glide about the room in their beautiful clothes.

  It was late when Toby and Graydon finally sat down. She looked at Dr. Huntley. “You wouldn’t happen to know if a couple of people named Tabitha Weber and Garrett Kingsley actually existed, would you? I’m not sure of the year, early 1800s by the clothes.”

  Caleb took his time answering. “They were real and their story was pure tragedy.” When he looked up at Toby his eyes seemed to be very old—and there was grief in them. “Garrett was Captain Caleb’s younger brother.”

  Toby looked at Graydon. “The captain was Jared’s ancestor. And related to you, I guess.”

  “Through Valentina Montgomery,” Jilly said. She was her family’s historian and she was beginning to work on their connection with the Nantucket Kingsleys. “The captain never married Valentina, even though they produced a child together.”

  Dr. Huntley winced, looking as though someone had hit him. “Foolish, stupid man,” he muttered, then looked at Toby. “But I believe you wanted to know about Tabby and Garrett. May I ask how you know of them?”

  “I, uh …” She glanced at Graydon and he nodded encouragement. “I had a few dreams about them.”

  Caleb looked at his pipe. “In the house called BEYOND TIME? Did you know it used to be called—”

  “NEVER TO SEA AGAIN,” Toby said.

  Caleb’s eyes widened. “Yes, you are right. Not many people know that.”

  “What I want to know is whether or not she married the man she loved,” Toby said, and she couldn’t help glancing at Graydon.

  Caleb took a breath. “There was a great scandal at Parthenia’s wedding,” he said. “You see, Tabby was seen under a tree with Garrett Kingsley, and both of them were half undressed.”

  “Oh,” Toby said and her face began to redden. It had only been a dream, but she had been kissing Garrett. Had she given in to his entreaties and rolled in the grass with him?

  Caleb, sitting directly across from her, was watching Toby intently. “The incident seemed out of character for Tabitha. It was more what a modern woman would do.”

  “I think you should tell us the whole story,” Ken said. “Can I assume that the young lovers were forced to marry?”

  “No, they didn’t marry. At least not each other,” Caleb said. “You see, Tabby had a mother who made sharks look kind. But then again that family had lost all their men to the sea. She didn’t want Tabby to marry a Kingsley, as it was said that all of them were dedicated to the sea.”

  “She made Tabby marry Silas Osborne, didn’t she?” Toby said.

  “Yes,” Caleb answered. “That night, there and then, at Parthenia’s wedding, she made her daughter marry that—”

  “Truck-bellied, brocky man,” Toby said softly and she began to feel very sad.

  “I’m confused,” Ken said. “Who was this guy Osborne?”

  “No one!” Caleb said and there was anger in his voice. “Tabby’s mother sold her daughter. Lavinia Weber owed that little pencil pusher money and the ugly little bastard promised to forgive the debt and to support all those sea widows—but only if pretty little Tabitha would marry him. So she did. Her mother snatched her from Garrett’s arms and wed her to Osborne that very night. Parthenia’s wedding celebration went from happiness to tears. If the captain had been there he would have stopped it, but he was locked away in an attic and brooding. Stupid man!”

  Dr. Huntley’s vehemence and anger were so strong that for a moment they were all silent.

  “Was her husband good to Tabitha?” Toby whispered.

  “No,” Caleb said, his voice calmer. “Osborne put a new roof on the house, but after that, he would do nothing else. He told Lavinia that Tabby didn’t like him, so the bargain was off. Lavinia’s screams of outrage were heard all the way to ’Sconset. She said that nobody liked him so it didn’t count that Tabby didn’t. But her words didn’t matter because Osborne never gave that family another cent.”

  “What did Tabby do?” Toby said.

  “Earne
d her keep and supported all of them. She ran Osborne’s store and she never received a word of praise or thanks for all she did. She died when she was in her early thirties, with no children. Everyone said she willed herself to death because she never got over her love for Garrett.”

  “And what happened to him?” Graydon asked.

  Dr. Huntley took a long breath before he answered. “Three years later Garrett went down with his brother Caleb, on the ship the captain had stubbornly led into a storm. He was trying to get home to Valentina.” Reaching out, he took Victoria’s hand in his.

  Again, everyone was silent.

  “How did we get on this depressing story?” Victoria asked. “It was all so very long ago. What I want to know about are Toby’s dreams. Anything I can use for a book plot?”

  Victoria’s words broke the misery that had descended on the group. As Graydon got up and opened another bottle of port, Toby began to tell them about her dreams. While she talked, Caleb kept nodding his head. When Toby said she’d sent Valentina to the attic, he said, “So you were the culprit! Go on. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  When Toby said Ken and Jilly looked exactly like John Kendricks and Parthenia, they smiled at each other. “I knew we were meant to be together,” Ken said.

  “Ha!” Victoria said. “If it hadn’t been for me, you would never have come together.” She looked at Toby. “What I want to know is if this was real. Did you actually visit that time?”

  “Of course I didn’t,” Toby said. “I dreamed it all. I’ve spent every summer of my life on Nantucket so I probably read a journal of Tabitha or Parthenia, or someone. And I remembered it in my sleep.”

  They all looked at Dr. Huntley in question. As the director of the island’s historical society, he would know about that. “It’s true that there are snippets of the story in some of the letters and journals we have.”

  “See?” Toby said. “I’m sure that’s how Dr. Huntley knows what happened. Right?”

  He didn’t answer her question. “Did you change anything while you were in any of your dreams?”