Forgotten Time (Ravenhurst Series, #1) A New Adult Time Travel Romance (4 page)

Holding tightly to her “borrowed” amulet, Katherine and Ned were ushered through the open doorway of Ravenhurst. Gargoyles loomed above the massive entryway. She felt as though they were watching her every move, giving her chills. She gave one a sidelong glance as she passed it, making her way into the foyer. The floor was gorgeous. Black and white checkered marble tiles covered the expanse, leading up to a huge, winding staircase that led up to a second level landing. It continued further back, but she couldn’t see beyond. She leaned her head backward to take in the spectacular wrought iron and crystal, Gothic-style chandelier, suspended above.

“Did you know white was not even considered a fashionable color for a wedding gown until Queen Victoria wore it at her wedding?” Ned questioned suddenly.

“Is that true?” she asked, sidestepping one of the potted plants on the side of the winding staircase.

“Yes. It is true. The color meant the bride was coming to the marriage penniless,” Ned commented.

“Seriously?” she asked, surprised.

“Yes, I am serious. Even the gown I lent you was meant to be a wedding gown.”

“Why would you say that?” she asked distractedly, trying to get the crick from her neck from staring at the chandelier too long.

“The craftsmanship gave it away. That dress took a very long time to make. I do find the color of the gown an interesting choice for the bride though. Red signified she wished herself dead, so I don’t think this was a love match, after all,” he chuckled. “Poor dear,” he shook his head sadly.

Katherine’s mouth dropped open as a chill ran up her spine. Oh great, she wearing a gown from a girl that wanted herself dead and she had to borrow a necklace made for a knight by who knows what, to bring his lost love back. A wave of dread washed over her. She was starting to have a bad feeling about this.

“Now the black overlay and hand-sewn floral accents were also an interesting choice for the bride, since it meant she wished herself back. Now this is a bit confusing for me. I am not sure how she can wish to be dead, and then wish herself back; but no matter, these tales are just stories, passed down through time. Who knows if they really happened or not?”

“Well, at least it sounds like she changed her mind. Maybe she was like Juliet, trying to be with her real, true love and pretending to kick it so the other guy would leave her alone?” she reasoned hopefully, trying to make the tightness in her chest subside.

“Perhaps,” Ned replied absently. He grabbed a puff pastry off a tray and popped it into his mouth.

“Still, it is kind of sad and disturbing at the same time, don’t you think?”

“Oh, Katherine, that is not even the half of it. The Victorians were an especially superstitious lot and even made poems up about certain aspects of the wedding. Take the days of the week, for instance: Marry on Monday for money, Tuesday for wealth, Wednesday the best day of all, Thursday for crosses, Friday for losses, and Saturday for no luck at all.”

“Seriously, you get no luck at all for a Saturday? Everyone gets married on Saturday in America. Well, that is just great; I guess we’re all screwed.”

Ned chuckled. “You are quite a crack-up, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, a real crack-up,” she said despondently, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray. “So, Ned, where did the dress come from anyway?” she asked casually, taking a sip of champagne.

“Oh, it came from Ravenhurst.”

Katherine coughed so hard, the sip of champagne flew out of her mouth, making her eyes tear up. “What did you say?” she managed to force out after her coughing fit.

“The gown is from Ravenhurst.”

“Why am I wearing it then? Isn’t that against the rules?”

“Oh, no worries, it isn’t like the girl who wore it is going to miss it.” He laughed loudly, the sound getting lost in the crowd.

Katherine drained her drink in record time. She needed to take the edge off. She was trying to forget all about the origins of the necklace, as well as the girl who wore the dress.

All she really wanted to do was explore the castle without Ned telling her another dreadful story. He was putting a serious damper on her good mood. And those stinking gargoyles’, little, beady eyes kept following her everywhere she went. It was probably guilt making her feel that way. She should have taken the necklace off, truthfully, she should have never worn it in the first place, but somehow, she couldn’t help herself.

The necklace was awesome. Besides, she reasoned, it wasn’t her fault Ned lent her the gown and insisted she keep the necklace on. Except he didn’t know she was lying about how she got it in the first place.

Apples-oranges, did it really make a difference? She thought not. Ned was the culprit in all this. Not her… at least that’s what she told herself.

Later in the evening, Katherine finished off her third glass of champagne. It did a fine job of dulling the pain in her toes, but unfortunately, not her head.

Ned snagged another pastry from the passing waiter’s tray. He popped it into his mouth, and was still chewing as he began warming to his subject again. “The Victorians would attach strings to the deceased bodies in various places, such as the hands, head, and feet before they were buried.” Ned paused for a moment, grabbing another pastry before popping it into his mouth.

“And to think Dr. Taberger designed the system above ground, just in case the person they buried was not really dead at all. It was bloody brilliant; the bell would alert the cemetery night watchman to dig up the body. Of course, I am not quite sure if they managed to do this in enough time…” He shrugged, licking the cream from the pastry off his fingers.

Katherine watched him run the tip of his tongue over each one of his fingers. Frankly, she was surprised her gag reflex didn’t kick in, but she was so hungry, it just didn’t matter. The dress had her trussed up so tightly, it was hard to take a breath. She knew if she tried to eat anything, the damn thing would asphyxiate her, rendering her unconscious for the rest of the night.

“Now where was I?” Ned questioned, tapping his chin.

Oh good Lord, more talk about corpses. She couldn’t take it. She searched the crowd frantically, for someone to unload him on. Her eyes made contact with Amelia, who was standing in the corner, all alone, gawking at Ned, of all people.
Perfect.

Amelia was another appraiser; but she dealt mainly in antique jewelry. At least that was her specialty. She actually dabbled in a bit of everything, especially from the Victorian era. She was a petite, little thing, with a short, boyish hairstyle that looked perfect on her small frame.
 She dressed nice, but was more bent towards a conservative look, except for the vintage, brightly colored, enamel flower pins she liked to accessorize with. Katherine guessed she was a likeable enough person; a bit bookish at times; but really, in this business, who wasn’t? Spotting her chance for escape, she pulled Ned with more strength than she realized towards Amelia.

“Hello, Ned,” Amelia said, smiling.

“Hello, Amelia,” Ned replied, sounding downtrodden.

Good grief, was he blind? Amelia looked really good. Katherine smiled at her. “Hey Amelia, I love your outfit.” She was wearing a bright green riding ensemble with a jaunty, little hat cocked to the side. The feathered plumes curved around her face dramatically. She had a riding crop in one hand and a drink in the other.

“Oh, hello, Katherine. Funny, I didn’t notice you were standing there,” she said, looking her up and down with visible distaste.

Katherine followed her eyes.
What a bitch.

“What an interesting piece of jewelry,” she commented.

Oh, shit.
“Ah, isn’t it, though?” she replied lamely.

“Wherever did you get it?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

Damn, damn, and double damn. Okay, calm it down, Katherine
. “Erhm… ah, someone’s grandmother from another mother,” she mumbled stupidly.

“What?” Amelia asked, leaning in closer.

Katherine covered the necklace with her hand and took a step back. “Oh gosh, I have got to go to the bathroom. It just hit me,” she said as sweetly as her telling face would allow.

“I will accompany you.” Ned said, looking at her suspiciously.

“Oh no, I really think it would be best if I go alone.” She played it up a bit, bending down slightly and pretending to have cramps of some sort.

Ned made a sour face, and flared his nostrils slightly, “Oh, I see, of course, you should go alone. You will need your privacy.”

Katherine added a strained look for good measure, before turning to walk away.

“Try to hurry back,” he called out from behind.

“Oh, I’ll try,” she lied, calling back.

Katherine walked briskly through the crowd, a broad smile quickly replacing the pained look. She snatched two more glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, before heading off, to explore the castle.

The light of the full moon streamed bright
l
y through the mullioned windows at the far end of the hall. Katherine walked slowly, drinking her champagne, passing armored knights stationed in alcoves on either side. She deposited an empty glass on the base of one of the suits of armor, making a mental note to pick it up on her way back.

Stopping at the end of the hall, she looked out the windows, watching like a spectator, as a dark cloud reached its eerie hand across the sky. It looked like it was searching for something or someone. The hall turned black. She toyed with the necklace, mindful of its nearness, and shivered slightly.

The clouds began to dissipate and the hall filled with illumination once more. To her left was a large gallery. She stepped through the arched doorway. Vaulted ceilings soared high above her. The vast floor filled with strategically placed statuary. She wondered if this was where the lords of the estate courted their ladies, or were they brought here to be seduced? It certainly looked like the perfect place for seduction. She ran her gloved fingers over the muscled arm of David, moving down to his perfectly sculpted buttocks, and patted them lightly.

She laughed out at her foolishness. Her voice echoed throughout the room. She was sure the champagne was taking its toll, with the bubbles rising in her stomach making her as giddy as a kid with a new toy.

Gilded rows of paintings covered the far wall of the room and she wandered over to them. Her heels clicked out a rhythm on the parquet floor, keeping time with the music wafting up from below. She stopped to admire one of the paintings: a knight in profile, his long, black hair blowing away from his face. His eyes looked off into the distance across a vast countryside. Dark clouds gathered above his head, and his cloak billowed out from behind. He looked sad.

A brief glimpse of him in misery
flashed across her mind, leaving her saddened to her core. Her heart went out to him. She tried to recall where she may have seen him before, but couldn’t grasp it; there was nothing tangible. She shook herself, determined to have a good time, and made herself move from his portrait. She took another small sip of champagne and instantly wished she took the bottle instead of just two glasses when she saw the other portrait.

This one showed a man leaning against a mantel in a library or study. Katherine could swear the room turned colder as soon as she looked at the unpleasant man in the portrait.