The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance (41 page)

Jordon struggled to get up. Griffin tightened his arms around her and stood, gently setting her on her feet. “Hello, Sage. This is Jordon Hearst. I’m afraid I waylaid her on her way to the kitchen.”

“Indeed.” Sage glanced over what he could see of Jordon’s neck and swollen lips. “Perhaps I should escort her the rest of the way. You seem to be a somewhat negative influence.”

Jordon flushed, but walked straight towards him and through the door, saying over her shoulder, “I can escort myself, thank you. I was leaving this morning anyway.” Oh, she couldn’t wait to get away! How embarrassing.

Griffin was at her side in an instant. “Actually, I’m fairly certain you don’t want to pass through the dining room right now. That’s what I was going to tell you before I got distracted.”

She stopped outside the door and looked at him with suspicion, “Why? Is someone in there?”

“My youngest brother is likely having breakfast.”

Jordon paled. She definitely didn’t want any of his brothers seeing her like this. She shot a glance at Sage, wondering if one already had. She started to run a hand through her hair, then had to grab for the blanket again. “OK,” she said shakily. “I need my clothes. Coffee, too. I think you can manage that much.” She glared at Griffin as if this were all his fault. “Once I’m dressed, I’m leaving.” She looked around, seeking a refuge. “I’ll wait in the parlour. The front door is closer from there.”

Griffin raised his brows, but seemed to agree. He inclined his head and headed for the dining room. Sage went with him.

Jordon retreated to the parlour and sat stiffly on a chair. She couldn’t wait to get out of there!

Griffin met the interested face at the dining table with a cool stare. He knew his brother Samhain had heard every word. He also knew it wouldn’t be repeated. Sam was no more a tale bearer than Sage. It didn’t stop him from asking questions, though.

“Ms Hearst sounded upset,” he said calmly. But his ears gave him away. He couldn’t flatten them as a man, and the slightly pointed tips twitched. He peered through his mane of black hair as if waiting for a chance to trample his older brother.

Griffin grimaced. “She’s embarrassed. Sage arrived at an inopportune moment.” He fixed a plate for Jordon and poured a cup of coffee. No doubt she’d be hungry. He’d been starved this morning. It had taken two heaped plates to satisfy him.

“Is that for you?” Sam wanted to know.

“No.” Griffin set the plate aside, intending to get it once he’d collected Jordon’s clothes from the kitchen. He was thinking furiously of delaying tactics. He’d decided sometime in the night that he was keeping Jordon. Now he just had to convince her of the wisdom in staying.

Mrs Y. sent him a knowing look as he entered the room. Well, she’d known what she was doing when she gave Jordon the room next to his. She’d been trying to get him to wed for years.

He ignored her and headed to the fireplace. Jordon’s things were dry, and most of her clothes had been folded and placed on a chair.

“I washed her socks and underthings,” Mrs Y. said casually. “I’m afraid she’ll have some difficulty, though. Her sweater seems to have disliked the rain.”

He shot her a curious look, then lifted the soft blue sweater from the pile to have a closer look. After a moment, he smiled. Somehow he doubted Jordon would be in a hurry to leave in this.

Jordon was dismayed to see her favourite sweater shrunken to the size of a handkerchief. But she rallied quickly. She was not going to allow it to slow her down. “I’ll need to borrow one of your shirts.”

Griffin made a face. “Darling, it would swamp you! If you’ll be patient, I’ll send for the village seamstress. She’s really very good.”

Jordon looked at him coldly. “I am not sitting around in a blanket all day. Nor am I going to wear
that.
” She glared at the maid’s uniform that he’d brought along as an alternative.

He looked over her head and drew a breath as if to control his temper. He did not seem interested in helping her leave. The storm was over. She needed to go home if she could.

She worried about that as she put on the shirt he brought her, ignoring the way it hung to her knees. She grudgingly thanked him for the jacket.

“It’s chilly this morning,” he said off hand. “Shall we?”

She wished he wasn’t the one walking her down the long driveway. Walking gave her too much time to think. She began to feel apologetic. “I’m sorry about last night.”

He raised his brows in enquiry. He was still being cool and aristocratic.

She hated it. “It was my fault. If there are . . . complications . . .”

He stopped. “I suggest you stop right there. We can discuss this after you’ve had a look at the road. Once you’ve ascertained for yourself that you can’t go home, we’ll discuss it further.”

She looked at him grimly. “I think I should say it before I disappear. There may not be another chance.”

“I doubt that.” He began walking again, rapidly this time. “Magic doesn’t work that way.”

“What do you mean?” She had to stretch her legs to keep up with him.

He saw it and slowed to an easier pace. “You were brought here for a purpose. You’d do better to spend your time discovering what that is than . . .” He trailed off. “No, forgive me. I suppose you’re being reasonable enough, from your point of view.”

She looked at him, surprised at his capitulation. “Really.”

He smiled charmingly. “I’m merely upset that you’re so eager to run away from me.”

She coloured and looked forwards. “About that. I’m not in the habit of leaping on men. It’s just that it’s been a while.” She saw that he was listening attentively. “My husband’s been gone two years now. He was killed in battle.”

“I’m sorry,” Griffin said respectfully. “You loved him, of course.”

Her throat tightened. “Yeah.” They were approaching the gates now. It seemed important to make him understand. “I think it’s become a habit, you know? The grief. I’ve been searching for a way to . . . heal, I guess. Last night, I think I used you.” She swallowed.

He stopped her. When she wouldn’t meet his eyes, he took her hands. “Jordon Hearst, I do not feel used. Have you considered that finding a new love is one of the best ways to heal?”

She jerked her hands back with a gasp. She wanted to berate him. How dare he? And yet . . . “I don’t love you. I barely know you.”

“Today, that’s true. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring.”

She didn’t want to discuss this. She strode through the gate, still hoping he’d leave her alone. She searched the ground carefully, glad for the excuse to hide her eyes. She didn’t love him. There was no such thing as love at first sight.

Of course, there were no such things as griffins, either. Or time travel, for that matter.
She ignored that errant little thought, concentrating on her task. She didn’t have time for nonsense.

She didn’t know what she expected to find on the road. In the daylight, it was an ordinary country lane. She walked over to the place where she estimated she’d arrived, looking for a feeling of
otherness,
for any sign of what had transported her last night. There was nothing. The only significance about the area was its proximity to the mansion gates. She glanced at them and sighed. She had a feeling she knew what Griffin would say about that. Annoyed, she ruthlessly began to search the trees at the side of the road for anything that might trigger a portal home.

Griffin seemed to be searching, too, though she got the feeling he was more interested in possible danger than in portals. His head was up, and his nostrils flared as if scenting the wind. After last night’s fight with the banshee, she couldn’t blame him. She even found she was glad of it.

It was as she searched the ditch that she felt the growing sensation that something was wrong. She glanced at the woods, as if she could peer through the trees to see what might be coming. “Griffin?” she said uncertainly.

He saw the direction she was looking. She thought she could
see
his hackles rise. He grasped her arm and began walking her towards the gate. “Quickly now.”

She didn’t resent his taking command. She knew something wasn’t right, too. A zing ran down her spine, and her breath came faster. The feeling didn’t make sense, but she hadn’t forgotten the banshee. Never mind that she’d never been bothered by so much as a stray premonition before, Jordon headed for the gates at a rapid clip. She would have run if Griffin hadn’t kept her at a walk.
Something was coming!

He appeared before the house when they were halfway up the drive. Dark, urbane and unapologetically
other
. Beautiful danger, seductive killer. He stood there dressed in an old-fashioned, midnight-blue frock coat, white ruffles spilling from the sleeves and cravat. Long hair, a burnished black, spilled from under a beaver top hat. Both hands rested on a polished ebony cane with a silver knob. He studied her with blue, blue eyes.

“I know you,” she whispered, appalled. “You’re the man who tried to kill me with the car.”

Griffin looked at her sharply. He seemed coiled, tensed to fight, but he stayed quiet and listened.

The stranger smiled slightly. “A miscalculation. I’ve come to pay my . . . respects.”

“Your respects!” Anger flashed through her veins, tightening her muscles. She was ready to lash out at him when another thought occurred. “You know how to take me back!”

His mouth quirked. “There would be no point, you know. The house would only draw you back here.”

She glanced suspiciously at the house behind him. “It’s not alive.”

His smile grew razor sharp. “You haven’t been here long enough to appreciate it. Meanwhile, I hope to further our acquaintance. I am called Naturu. The pleasure is mine, Jordon Hearst.” His scintillating smile hinted at the kind of pleasure he meant.

Griffin smiled with white, shar p teeth. “Don’t be so confident, fae. She’s spoken for.”

“Am I?” Jordon asked sharply. She turned her attention back to Naturu. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave. I’m not usually thrilled to meet a would-be assassin.” She expected him to protest, or attempt to charm her, but he only inclined his head.

“As I said, I regret the circumstances of our first meeting. As a token of apology, I came to offer a friendly warning.” His tone was silky, caressing. “Do not leave this place alone, Ms Hearst. There are more than shadows waiting outside these gates.”

Griffin’s lip curled.

A chill kissed her spine. She remembered the fear that had made her run back to the house, knew without a doubt Naturu was right. It didn’t make her like him any better, though. Acidly, she said, “You’re too kind.”

He smiled seductively. “I can see I’ve overstayed my welcome. Accept my parting gift, then, and think of me with better favour.” He bowed, then disappeared in a swirl of black smoke. She glanced around, but he was nowhere in sight.

Griffin met her gaze with hooded eyes. “He’s gone. For now.” His eyes swept over her, his expression carefully neutral.

She followed his gaze, blinking in surprise as she caught sight of her clothes. She was now wearing a blue cashmere dress over a pale blue, silk under-dress. The sleeves and neckline were liberally adorned with pearls. There were even matching silk slippers upon her feet. It was beautiful, but . . . “Stupid man! Those were my favourite jeans.” She was not inclined to look with favour on Naturu’s gift. He’d tried to kill her!

Sage spoke dryly from the front door. From his words, he must have witnessed most of the conversation. “Be grateful he didn’t turn
you
into a lowly moth. That one could have done far worse.” He frowned at the dress. “It suits you better than Griff’s shirt, at any rate.”

Both she and Griffin glowered. Neither one of them liked Naturu messing with her clothes.

Griff gently took her arm. “We ’ll have the seamstress in today. You deserve a choice of clothing.”

She hesitated, glanced back at the gates. Had she really searched as well as she could have?

Griffin leaned down to whisper in her ear. “It’s not worth the danger. You can search again another time.”

She considered, then reluctantly allowed him to escort her inside. He was probably right . . . for now.

Griffin waited until Jordon was settled in the parlour with a tea tray before making his offer. He worked up to it, of course, and made a very fine effort.

Jordon was not impressed. “Marriage.” She grimaced and set down her tea. “There’s no reason for that, Griff.”

He looked at her steadily. “There is the possibility of a child.”

She sighed and looked around the dusty parlour. “I think you need a maid more than you need a wife. What happened to this place?”

“We were away. Our help deserted us. Unfortunately, it is not easy to find servants who can adapt to our household. Fae work well, but they were threatened in our absence. I don’t blame them for leaving. About my offer—”

“I’ll entertain it, but I need some answers first. Who is Naturu? You didn’t seem surprised by him.”

He clearly disliked the subject change, but he humoured her. “He is the brother of our matriarch. The house, you know.”

“No, I don’t know. What about it?” she asked, slightly irritated. “There seems to be an unspoken assumption around here that I know things. Maybe you’d better back up and give me some of the history of this place.”