Forgotten Time (Ravenhurst Series, #1) A New Adult Time Travel Romance (22 page)

Of course, Isabelle was no fool, and she sensed a change in him. Isabelle simply could not satisfy Devlin as she once had, so she quickly arranged a betrothal between Marguerite and her nephew, Sebastian. She constantly droned on and on about what a wonderful man he had become, and continually reminded Devlin that he, Sebastian, was an earl and had a vast amount of money and lands, and blah, blah, blah.

It made Devlin sick every time he thought about that blasted, do-gooder Sebastian touching any part of Marguerite. He could never appreciate her the way Devlin did. Why was Sebastian allowed to fill his heart’s desire, and Devlin was not? It made him ill to think too much about it.

Mayhap that was the actual start of his undoing. Had he not reached  beyond his means, or been satisfied with the cards dealt him, perhaps everything would have turned out differently. His life was not so bad, after all. Was it not enough that he had, not one, but two women, begging for his ministrations in bed? Or that he had all the money available to spend that he could ever want or need, if only he asked Isabelle nicely? She was not tight with her purse strings either; actually, she was quite the opposite. She purchased his clothing, bought him the finest horseflesh, and had a carriage made just for him.

He was in the perfect relationship, but he found he wanted more. Was that the way of it? he wondered. Even if he did have Marguerite, would he someday look at her while thinking to himself she was not enough either?

Mayhap that was why he thought Judith was different. Was he trying in his own way to save her from the same fate of his mother? Could saving Judith from the streets somehow make amends for not saving his mother? He often hoped she could fill the void he found within himself, but she was only a short reprieve as well. It all seemed so useless at times.

And even now, he no longer knew what drove him to where he found himself. He had everything, but it was still not enough. Now he was close to losing everything he had worked so hard to gain. With Isabelle free, she could have made it to Ravenhurst by now. It was only a short ride away. He took a heavy breath. Yes, it would only be a matter of time before he found himself with nothing more than he started with, in the gallows.

Judith and her burden were loaded carefully on Isabelle’s mare. She was a friendly, docile horse and they plodded steadily through the snow. She felt sure she was making good time until the blasted snow started falling again, making her unsure where she was. Somehow, she got turned around and now had no idea where she could be.

Damn Devlin. She shivered from the cold and pulled her stolen cloak more snugly around her body, loving the warmth it provided. She snuggled deeper into the folds; at least Isabelle was good for something. She laughed aloud. Her cloak was good for something, not Isabelle, never Isabelle; she was a bat. She continued onward, her horse swaying back and forth in a rocking motion, much like being astride one of her many lovers. Judith was caught up in her musings, so she did not notice the satchel slipping off the horse. The mare stumbled, pitching Judith forward. She pulled back, regaining her seat. She turned in her seat to check on her goodies. She gasped. The satchel was sliding off the back of the horse. She quickly turned further in the saddle, using every bit of her strength to pull her treasures back up onto the horse’s back.

Once the feat was accomplished she let out a whoop of laughter. The horse reared, startled from the sound. Judith yanked hard on the reins, the horse danced backwards, spooked. A sharp branch jutted out and cut into the flank of the horse. The horse whinnied, tossing its head back and forth. Judith struggled, trying to get the horse under control, but it was simply too much. With one buck, Judith flew forward over the neck of the horse and landed face first in the snow. The satchel tumbled behind, clanking loudly on the ground. Judith lifted her face off the ground, only to see the back of her horse speed away, in a flurry of fur and snow.

Judith wiggled her feet and fingers.  Nothing felt broken, that was something. She rolled over onto her back, trying to figure out how she was going to get the damn horse back?

Snow mixed with sleet pelted her in the face, spurring her to get up. She lifted her head slowly and pushed herself into a sitting position. She finally crawled to her feet and pulled her hood more snugly around her face, wiping the wetness in its folds.

The wind whipped her cloak, pulling her this way and that as she leaned forward to pick up her satchel. She grabbed the handles, trying to lift the bag, but it was simply too heavy. She pulled as hard as she could with both hands. It slid behind her, the silver clanking and clattering loudly as she followed the trail left by her frightened horse.

The invisible noose was tightening on his neck and Devlin was losing all hope of ever finding Isabelle in time. He lingered under the tree, disheartened, drinking every bit of the brandy he took from Hawthorne. Obviously, he would not be indulging in something this fine ever again, so he saw no reason not to partake fully now. Every drink he took burned a path down his gullet. It felt good; at least, he could still feel something. He could not believe his brilliant plan was crashing down around him, and for what? What had he gained? Nothing, that’s what, and now he was at his wits’ end. Where the hell did she go?

He drained the last of the bottle. He was unsteady on his feet, but it mattered not. He was crestfallen, what little hope he garnered disappearing with every moment that passed. He climbed upon his horse. A crash sounded, echoing in the darkness.

He leaned forward in the saddle, trying to see, bleary-eyed, through the white flakes drifting in the darkness. In the distance, he could swear he saw someone shuffling through the snow. Elation filled him… Was it she? Could it be? He rubbed his eyes to make sure they were not playing tricks on him. His pulse quickened as he maneuvered his horse quietly from under the shelter of the snowy branches. “Isabelle!” he called into the night.

Judith froze. Good Lord, did someone yell “Isabelle?” No, it couldn’t be. Her heart hammered in her chest. She knew without looking that it was Devlin. What would he do? If he caught her, would he finish what he had started earlier? She really had only one choice… run. And run she did. Her burden forgotten, she took off across the field. Snow kicked up in her wake as she ran as fast as her legs would carry her.

Devlin was not to be thwarted. Not now, not with the balance of his own freedom hanging loosely by a thread. He dismounted, stumbling to the ground. After regaining his balance, the wind whipped and tore at him as he chased his quarry.

Judith ran onward, huffing and puffing. She felt him, rather than saw him, closing in, but she still ran, hoping for a reprieve. She was so intent on putting as much distance between Devlin and herself, she did not realize she was headed directly for a ravine.

Devlin knew where they were headed, having regained his bearings after slowing down from a stitch in his side. Bent over, he saw his target running closer towards the edge and knew in just a matter of moments, she would run right off the side. That would certainly be her fate if he did nothing to stop her. He battled a conflict from within. He could be quiet and let her seal her own fate; thereby saving himself. He waited as the moments ticked by… watching. His chest tightened as he held his breath. He found he could not stay quiet; and he sealed his own fate. He yelled out as loud as he could, “STOP, DAMN YOU!”

Judith pulled up short, stopping on the very precipice of the ravine; still not seeing her doom that lay right before her. Slowly, she turned and looked directly at Devlin with her back to the ravine.

Devlin was stunned. Why was Judith in front of him? Dawning came slowly, but when it did, her motives were crystal clear. “Judith, what in the hell are you doing?”

Judith balled up her fists. She was ready for a fight. “I am running from you, Devlin. You are a fool,” she spat out in disgust.

The wind carried her words towards Devlin, ringing loud and clear.

She stood rigidly as she braced herself against the force of the wind and Devlin’s temper.

“FOOL?” A bark of laughter split the air. “My God, Judith, you think I am a fool?” He laughed harder, suddenly finding her words hysterical. He shook his head, wiping a tear from his eye. Then, his hysterics evaporated into a slow, churning anger that came from deep inside his stomach. “You are an IDIOT, Judith. How dare you call anyone a fool when you are the biggest fool of all?” His voice took on an icy edge. “What is in the bag, Judith? Did you think you could steal us blind and run? To where? You have no place to go,” he said, leering at her in disgust.

Judith’s temper flared, “IDIOT! How dare you call me an idiot? If it were not for me, you would have been forgotten long ago by that doddering, old crone you so liked to bed. I saved you from utter monotony. At least, I could pleasure you in ways we both know that old woman could never accomplish. And you thanked me how, Devlin?” she screamed.

The coldness she felt evaporated with every blow she delivered verbally, hitting its intended mark every time. “You turned on me… me… the one person who truly understood you. You make me sick. You deserve whatever fate she metes out for you. You deserve it all.”

Devlin was stunned. He heard the hatred in Judith’s voice. He had no idea. He was a fool to think she may have actually cared. And even now, knowing firsthand what kind of loathsome woman she was, he could not let her fall unwittingly to the demise she so deserved.

“Idiot, you say?” he questioned in a deadly calm voice. “Look behind you, Judith, and please tell me who is the idiot now?”

The wind died down as if someone turned a switch off. Slowly, she looked over her shoulder and saw she was only inches from falling into the dark abyss of the ravine. She shuddered and turned back toward where Devlin stood.

Clutching her cloak and the small bag of jewels she held closely to her person as though it were her only lifeline, she took a step.

Devlin looked at her with a new pair of eyes; he actually found he pitied her now. She was a lost cause. He gave her one last lingering look, sadness settling over him; he felt defeated and tired.

Silently, he turned and began to walk away from her. He had no use for her any longer, and apparently, she had none for him as well.

Judith felt like Devlin reached into her chest and ripped her heart from her body. She could not believe he was walking away from her, without even the simplest goodbye. After all they had been through, after all the nights they spent in each other’s arms, pleasuring one another, laughing together. She was at a loss.

Was that pity she saw on his face? A hurt, deep and all-encompassing, spread over her body, making her numb for a brief moment. Then a hatred so fierce rekindled a fire from deep within crackling back to life, pulsating through her veins, turning her despair to anger.

That stinking, rotten wretch! Who in the HELL did he think he was? How dare he look at her, Judith Alexandra Beauchamp, with pity? She may be damned, but she would not be pitied. She seized her torrid emotions, letting them get the better of her, just as her greed took the better of her before. She screamed like a crazed lunatic at the top of her lungs, “DEVLIN!”

He did not turn.

She yelled even louder, splitting the air, “DEVLIN!”