Thank God animal heads weren’t on the menu. I watched the Georges fuss and fidget around the table, while Victoria Cupcake fingered her ringlets, cocking her head in completely unnatural angles, and laughing a high-pitched ringing sound. It was a wonder she wasn’t summoning all the dogs in the area.
And Rand? Hmm, I still couldn’t read him. Despite his smile and amity, he didn’t seem smitten, and he certainly didn’t eye drool all over Victoria the way she did over him. Course, in 1878 he was a completely different person so who knew what he was really thinking.
“Please do tell us more about your mysterious guest, Mr. Balfour,” Victoria started, smiling up at Rand before glancing at me, her expression souring as if she’d just gotten a whiff of vomit.
Rand’s eyes met mine but he didn’t say anything.
“Our guest is an American,” Pelham interrupted.
“From California,” Christine chimed in with a pretty smile as she caught my eye. I downed my glass of claret, not concerned about propriety and smiled broadly at Victoria.
“Yes.”
Victoria seemed perplexed. “And how did you manage to wind up in the snow out here of all places?”
I tilted my head, trying to mirror the ridiculous angle of hers. “I don’t know.”
She frowned. “You leave us at a disadvantage, Miss.”
George refilled my claret.
“I guess I don’t have much to say, ” I offered.
Mother Cupcake glanced at Pelham, her eyebrows drawn into a tight knot in the middle of her forehead. “I imagine our generous host was quite surprised to find a Colonist on the grounds?”
I nearly choked on my claret. “A Colonist?” I laughed. “Really?”
The old woman said nothing as she frowned at me. Her squinty eyes narrowed even more until she looked like she didn’t have any eyes at all. Christine thumped my thigh underneath the table but I could detect a smile forming at the corners of her mouth.
The Georges returned and cleared away our untouched plates. I noticed Victoria and her mother had not only refused to eat, they hadn’t even bothered to shift their food around to pretend they’d eaten something. Yep, they’d come here with one goal in mind—to marry Victoria off to Rand. I could only wonder if he knew of their ulterior motives.
“For your roast course,” George #2 interrupted. “Partridges with truffles, snipe heads, snipes on liver toast and champagne.”
God, what was it with the Victorians and animal heads? And furthermore, what the hell was a snipe? Well, I soon found out. Snipes were small birds with incredibly long beaks. I reached for my glass of champagne while I watched the Georges make the rounds, serving up our “roast course”.
“Do Americans enjoy spirits?” Victoria asked with her shrill tone, bringing attention to the fact that I was quickly becoming inebriated.
I finished my champagne and placed the glass on the table. “I would say so.”
She glanced at her untouched food and made a huffing sound. “Well, Miss Wilkins, since you prefer spirits to conversation, perhaps we should address Miss Pelham.”
Christine blushed and looked down, not wanting to attract attention. She mindlessly played with the snipe heads as if she were playing finger croquet, avoiding everyone’s eyes. “I have been practicing piano, caring for my brother and amusing myself with Miss Wilkins,” she said in a small voice.
“Yes, you must entertain us later with your piano playing, Dear,” Mother Cupcake commanded. “Miss Pelham really is quite a delight at the pianoforte.”
Christine blushed even deeper crimson as her brother offered her an encouraging smile. “Yes, Christine, we would love to hear you play.”
Christine just nodded. Feeling uncomfortable, I glanced up to find Rand staring at me. As quickly as my eyes met his, he averted them to his glass of champagne which was just as empty as mine.
“I believe Mr. Sinclair was spotted in town just recently,” Victoria said in a casual tone after an uncomfortable silence which only garnered another uncomfortable silence. Christine’s attention fell from Victoria’s face to her plate where it remained. I grasped her hand underneath the table and squeezed it.
“We’re not concerned with Mr. Sinclair,” I said in a stiff voice, glaring at Victoria.
Victoria smiled coquettishly at Rand but his attention remained on me.
“Oh? Silly me! I had thought otherwise,” Victoria continued. “If I recall, at our last harvest festival, Mr. Sinclair danced with Miss Pelham at least three times.”
Hmm, maybe Victoria wasn’t aware of what had transpired between Christine and Sinjin…
“I heard Mr. Sinclair has become something of a pariah in most respectable households,” Victoria continued and I realized she was just fishing, hoping to know the real story. So, somehow she had found out about Christine’s tryst with Sinjin.
Well, despite her aversion to me and her stuffy old goat of a mother calling me a Colonist, when it came to injuring Christine, I wouldn’t allow it. I pretended to drop something under the table and closed my eyes, clouding the vision of everyone at the table with the exception of Victoria. She needed to see what I had in store for her.
“Are you ill, Miss?” Victoria demanded as I sat up again.
“I thought I dropped an earring.”
She frowned as she noticed I wasn’t wearing earrings but turned to Rand, offering him a dazzling smile. “Mr. Balfour, when shall we go riding again?”
Before he had the chance to answer, I focused on one of the snipe heads sitting untouched on Victoria’s plate and imagined my energy suffusing it, blanketing it with magic. It turned its mini head in the direction of Victoria and opened its beak. It took her a second to bring her attention from Rand to the snipe head as its beak opened up and down, its dried eyes seeing nothing.
“Hi Baby,” it said in a high-pitched, nasally Brooklyn accent. “Youse gotta kiss for daddy?”
Victoria gasped and surged from her chair, stumbling backwards. Everyone around the table looked at her askance.
“Daughter, are you well?” Mother Cupcake demanded.
Victoria, realizing no one else could see the talking snipe, dumbly nodded. “Yes, I am well,” she said in a small voice as she settled back into her chair, her trembling hands kneading the white linen napkin.
I glanced at the snipe head again and smiled.
“Pucker up those juicy lips!” It said and Victoria clenched her eyes shut, biting her lip. She opened them again, as if to prove to herself that the decapitated bird head wasn’t really talking to her.
“Gimme some shuga, baby!”
Victoria pushed herself away from the table and leapt up, tears streaming down her face. “Do you see it?” she demanded, pointing at it in horror.
“See what?” I asked, noticing Rand was staring at me again. There was mirth in his eyes and a slight smile teased his lips. So, he’d seen the snipe’s antics and my magical buffer hadn’t worked on him? Rhetorical question.
“What is the matter, my love?” The old woman demanded, her eyes furious with Victoria’s display.
“I…” Victoria started, grasping her head as if she might faint. “I believe we need to return home, Mother. I am not feeling at all well.”
“Shall I call for Mr. Hodgins?” Pelham asked.
“No, no,” Mother Cupcake said, waiving off Pelham’s concern. “She has merely had too much excitement today.”
“Don’t go, my little coquette!” The snipe head wailed out.
Victoria screamed and tore from the room, her mother right behind her. I turned to look at the rest of the diners and held up my glass, noticing Rand’s intent gaze.
“Cheers,” I said.
nineteen
As I retired that evening, Elsie helped me into my nightgown and assisted me with building a fire then left me to my solitude. I wasn’t sure what time it was but I couldn’t sleep. I paced back and forth, reminding myself that the dark shadows cast about the room were merely caused by the
burning fire and not some demonic night creatures come to spirit me away. Settling at my window, I watched the moon illuminate the grounds of Pelham Manor in a silver glow.
The entire house was quiet, except for the wind rattling the incredibly old windows. Everyone had retired to their bed chambers hours before, after the outburst at dinner. The thought of Victoria and the talking snipe head brought a smile to my face and I couldn’t help but giggle.
A strident knock on my door pulled me from my reverie. Christine must have come to gab about Victoria’s strange reaction at dinner. But, when I opened the door, I wasn’t greeted by Christine at all, but a very flustered Rand. He didn’t say anything at first; just stood there staring at me. He seemed anxious, running his hands through his hair while attempting to start a sentence and then clamping his mouth shut again.
“Rand? Are you okay?”
“May I come in?” he blurted.
I merely stepped aside, allowing him entrance. He stormed into the room, the epitome of frazzled nerves and frustration. As I closed the door behind us, I wondered if I was about to be reprimanded for scaring the death out of his intended. The thought that Victoria was someone he might be romantically interested in was enough to cause my stomach acids to come up my throat. Luckily for me, they didn’t.
I sighed deeply and turned around, only to find him directly in front of me. Before I could speak, he embraced me tightly and planted his lips on mine. His kiss wasn’t gentle; rather it was demanding, almost angry. Then, just as quickly, he pushed me away and fisted his hands at his sides, pacing to the window.
Holy crap! I hadn’t seen that one coming! It was like I’d just been blindsided by the Rand love train.
“I apologize,” he started, shaking his head and dropping his gaze to his shoes as a scarlet blush blossomed along his cheeks. “I should not have come.”
He started for the door again but I blocked him. Still startled by his kiss, I was about to reach out to him when he whirled around and clasped his hands behind his neck. Walking back and forth, the sound of his footfalls echoed the frenetic beating of my heart.
“I do not understand it, Miss Wilkins.”
“Jolie,” I corrected.
“Jolie,” he said and finally brought his eyes to mine. “I cannot fathom how it can be so, but whatever charm Mathilda put on me has addled my mind.”
“Addled your mind?” I repeated, wanting nothing more than to touch him, to hold him tight and kiss him, to reassure him everything was going to be alright.
He nodded emphatically. “Yes, I cannot…stop thinking about you.”
I smiled and it was a smile that was not only on the surface but extended into the depths of my soul. Finally! Finally Rand had reached the realization that I was who I said I was. “Then Mathilda’s charm worked?”
“I suppose so,” he said and dropped into an arm chair in the corner of the room. “I came to ask you questions to…better help me understand my feelings towards you.”
“So, Victoria…” I started, about to ask the nature of their acquaintance.
“Means nothing to me,” Rand answered. “Truth be told, I am pleased to be rid of her and her nosy mother.”
“Oh,” I commented, trying to conceal my happiness.
“As to you and me?” Rand began again.
I sat on the end of my bed, my feet only inches from his. “Ask me anything you want.”
He looked me up and down, his cheeks flushing. “I should not be here, in your bed chamber alone with you. It is quite indecent of me.”
He started to stand up but I beat him to it and pushed him back into the armchair. “It is not indecent where I come from.”
He eyed my hand where it rested on his chest. Then he grasped it and glanced up at me. “I do not know what to make of these emotions. I cannot sleep, I cannot think of anything other than you.” He sighed. “And my thoughts are quite indecent.”
I swallowed hard—all my thoughts regarding Rand were indecent and always had been.
“Would you describe our relationship in your own time?” he asked, his voice much softer and huskier than before.
I pulled my hand from his chest and inhaled, trying to regain control of my lusty feelings. Now was not the time for such unwholesome thoughts! Rand needed to understand our relationship, but, more importantly, he had to understand why I needed him to help send me back. I took a seat on my bed again and nodded. “What would you like to know?”
“Are we lovers?”
His eyes burned as they searched my face, his jaw tight. The question made my stomach drop and goose bumps broke out on my skin. “No, not exactly.”
He nodded and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Raising his face up, he glanced at me again. “Are we in love?”
“Yes.” I didn’t pause; I didn’t have to.
He stood up and paced to the window, dropping his hands so they rested on the sill. His incredibly broad shoulders completely blocked the view outside and the fire cast highlights and shadows across his back. I had to gulp down the sense of foreboding climbing up my throat.
“I am not surprised. What I feel for you…it is most definitely love.” He didn’t turn around but continued staring out the window, looking like some brooding, Gothic hero.
“I’m sure this has been very hard for you—feeling such strong emotions for someone you don’t know.”
He faced me and nodded, sighing deeply. “Yes, I am still wondering if perhaps I am mad.”
I laughed and shook my head, standing up. Walking over to him, I grasped one of his large hands in mine. “You aren’t crazy, Rand.”
He pulled me close and traced the outline of my face with his index finger. At his touch, I closed my eyes, remembering the Rand of my own time touching me in exactly the same way. Some things never change.
“Tell me more about us. If we are in love, are we married?” he whispered.
I opened my eyes and found his riveted on mine. “We aren’t married,” I said, my voice sounding like a foghorn in the quiet room. I preferred the soft cadence of his breathing complemented by the sputtering of the fire.
“And why are we not lovers?”
“You and I have had a difficult history,” I began with a small, sad smile. “We’ve always loved each another but because of the circumstances, we’ve never acted on our feelings.”
“Then I am a fool,” he summarized and tilted my chin up. His lips were tender and his moustache tickled my nose. I closed my eyes and melted into the broad expanse of his chest. His hands fumbled through my hair as I opened my mouth to allow his tongue entrance. A groan sounded from within him and he pulled away from me.
“Have we made love?”
My eyes fluttered open and my heart sped up. “We came very close.”
“How close?” he demanded and pushed me back on the bed, wedging his body between my legs. Removing his waistcoat, he threw it on the floor and loosened his necktie.
“Very close,” I mumbled while unbuttoning my nightgown. A burning had started deep within my belly and was now an all out desire. Was this really going to happen? I couldn’t suppress the current of excitement that tore through me. It appeared we were finally going to seal the deal.
He rose up to tear off his white long-sleeved shirt, and I marveled when his bare chest greeted me. Remembering the same smoothly defined muscles peppered with light brown, wiry hair, they could only belong to Rand. Without another word, he lay down on me, probing his tongue into my mouth. I moaned underneath him, wrapping my arms and legs around him as he eagerly sought my tongue. His hands migrated down my side, bunching my nightgown above my waist. His fingers traced my upper leg, to the juncture of my thighs, where his fingers moved to the crotch of my panties. I arched up, gasping my pleasure.
“Rand,” I whimpered.
He made a throaty sound and raised up, watching my face while his fingers danced over my panties, teasing me ruthlessly. He brought his face to my neck and kissed the distance to my
collarbone, steadily descending until he was stopped by the nightgown. He pulled it up, yanking it over my head. If I hadn’t noticed the bulge in his incredibly tight trousers before, I noticed it now. I was unable to pry my eyes from it and he chuckled deeply, placing my hand on the crotch of his pants. He rubbed my hand back and forth while taking one of my nipples in his mouth. He sucked and teethed at my nipple while I moaned achingly underneath him. It suddenly dawned on me that if we did have sex, we might bond. But, as soon as I felt his fingers on my panties, the thought was lost. He shifted them aside, running his index finger down the length of me. I clamped my eyes shut.
“You are incredibly wet,” he whispered, plunging his finger into me as I bucked beneath him.
“I want you, Rand,” I confessed
He slid my panties off and spread my legs wide, settling himself between them. The head of his erection perched at my opening. I blinked to find him gazing down at me, love and desire penetrating his stare. I pushed against him, encouraging him to thrust himself. My breath caught as he drove himself into me. Gasping at the feel of his invasion, I wrapped my legs around him and he pushed harder into me. Every inch of my being was alive, tuned to the feel of him sliding in and out.
“I have wanted you for so long,” I whispered. And, God, was it the truth. Now that the moment had finally arrived, I almost didn’t believe it. I felt as if I had to pinch myself out of a dream.
Rand didn’t respond but leaned down and kissed me again. It was a kiss like none other we’d ever shared. Our tongues mated as he pushed himself harder and deeper into me. He suddenly pulled out.
“Rand?” I asked, opening my eyes and wondering why he’d stopped.
He gave me a mischievous smile and rolled over next to me. Grasping my waist, he pulled me on top of him.
“I want to watch you atop me,” he said.
I grasped his throbbing erection, positioning it barely inside me as I ground my hips in gentle circles, teasing him. He tried to thrust his hips upward but I easily outmaneuvered him.
“Tell me what you want,” I said with a smile.