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Authors: Wendy Godding

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BOOK: Time After Time
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‘I don’t know
why
I’m looking for you, though,’ he muttered after a minute.

I stared at him. ‘What is
that
supposed to mean?’

He shrugged, frowning again and looking totally confused. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘But honestly, Abbie, I think about you all the time. And I’ve been having these really weird dreams about you.’

My heart leapt into my throat.
He’s dreamed about me
. The surge of excitement I felt soon vanished, though, when he said a moment later, ‘You’re this weird bird,’ he gave a nervous laugh. ‘It’s always the same. It’s kind of freaking me out.’

A bird?

He
wasn’t
sharing my dreams about meeting in an English village two hundred years ago; he didn’t remember me at all. My heart sank.

‘Maybe you should leave,’ I said after a moment and turned away. But he grasped my arm, the place where he touched me sizzling. I jerked back, my whole body quaking as if I’d been jolted by a surge of electricity. He felt it too; I could tell by the way his eyes widened and by the way he stared at the spot on my arm.

‘My god,’ he whispered, and something like a dark shadow or a cloud flashed in his eyes. It was gone in a split second, and it was so fleeting that I wondered if perhaps I’d imagined it. ‘We know each other, don’t we?’

‘What?’ I whispered, my voice inaudible above the music.

He staggered back, away from me, blinking in undisguised shock. ‘I just saw you—but somewhere else.
What
are you?’ He looked at me as if I was a ghost or a demon, as if I repulsed and disgusted him.

Anger bubbled inside me. How dare he come in here and start asking questions, accusing
me
of things, when it was
his
fault he didn’t remember anything,
his
fault that he didn’t suffer the same agonising dreams I did.

How dare he?

I glared at him a moment longer before turning. As I pushed my way through the crowded club, my eyes filled with tears, which I blinked away. There was no way I would shed a tear over him. Bursting through the door, ignoring the curious looks from the doormen, I felt the fresh, cool evening air on my cheeks. Inhaling deeply, I leaned back against the brick wall to steady myself, my thoughts and feelings in a complete whirl.

After a moment, Marcus appeared at my side. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.’

He spoke with the same stiffness and polite formality I recognised from my dreams. Heath Lockwood at Broadhurst Manor. Despite my anger, I couldn’t resist a smile.

‘I saw a flash of you, but you looked different, and I get the feeling I know you—like,
really
know you—from somewhere else. But I know I don’t.’ His last statement was more like a question, and it hung in the air between us.

I chose not to answer. Unless I suddenly decided to bare my soul, his question was unanswerable. ‘You should stay away from me,’ I said instead, not looking at him.

‘I’d really like to,’ he admitted with a low chuckle, ‘but I can’t. You intrigue me. Is there anything you want to tell me?’

Again, I ignored his question.
Was there anything to tell him?
Too much to tell, and none of which I ever wanted to say aloud. ‘I’m not good company to keep.’

‘Says who?’

I looked up at him, my nostrils flaring slightly, my anger resurfacing. ‘Lilly. Emma. Most of the student population at Brookdale High. Ask anyone—I’m the freak everyone avoids.’ My voice was filled with bitterness. I’d been ostracised from my earliest moments at that school, Lilly my main tormentor.

Marcus fell silent, deliberating his words before he spoke. ‘I think that’s more your doing than theirs.’

I stared at him open-mouthed.

He’d been there a week and had already managed to secure himself the position of Mr Popularity and get a date with Lilly Hamilton, the odds-on favourite for prom queen. He didn’t know what it was like to be plagued by demons, to be odd, weird, different. Someone like Marcus, with his floppy hair and big, brown eyes, would never know what it was like to suffer nightmares that were terrifyingly real. He could never possibly understand what it was like to be me, hunted through time.

‘When I touched you,’ he continued, speaking mostly to himself, ‘I felt you spark. Like you’re made of electricity, not flesh and bone. It was incredible. And you looked completely different, like you were in fancy dress or something.’

‘Not a bird?’ I asked wryly.

He shook his head. ‘Not a bird.’

Silence. I wasn’t going to tell him anything; I’d learned long ago to keep my mouth firmly shut with regard to my dreams. Telling people about them was a sure-fire way to alienate everyone. I’d told my parents and look where they were now—anywhere but near me, their freak of a daughter.

‘You should go,’ I repeated quietly.

He grinned. ‘I came to see you. So I’m not going to just leave.’

A sudden thought struck me. ‘Where’s your date? Didn’t you go to the Spring dance?’

‘Yeah, I went,’ he admitted, ‘but when I saw Beth, well, she told me where you were so I came here.’

‘What about…’ I couldn’t bring myself to say her name.

‘I made sure she could get home safe.’

I giggled, imagining how furious Lilly would be if she knew Marcus had left her to come find me.

‘What’s up between you two, anyhow?’ Marcus asked, as if following my thoughts. ‘Why does she hate you so much?’

I shrugged. Why
did
Lilly hate me so much? I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because I was different. Maybe it was because Lilly was insecure and needed to lash out. Maybe she was just a bitch.

‘Well, she hates you, that’s for sure,’ Marcus said wryly when it became apparent I wasn’t going to answer. ‘But whatever. Should we go? My car’s just down the street.’

‘I can catch the bus,’ I said tightly. Penelope’s infatuation was still coursing in my veins, and I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to be alone in a car with Marcus. Look at the effect he had on Penelope, and that was two hundred years ago, when a girl was more protective of her virtue.

‘C’mon, Abbie, I live right next door,’ he said, his voice tinged with annoyance. ‘There’s no reason to take the bus when I can drive you. Besides, the bus at night can be dangerous.’

I pulled a can of pepper spray from my bag. ‘I have this. Besides, I’m scarier than anything on the bus.’

He tilted his head and considered me. ‘You know, you aren’t as scary as you think. You’re kind of tiny. And cute. A bit like a fairy or a pixie,’ he smiled, and I felt my heart lurch. ‘C’mon little pixie girl, I’m taking you home.’

Chapter Seventeen

1806

‘Heath, I thought we might head back to London for a few days,’ Harry announced. ‘It’s getting a little dreary around here, don’t you think? And I’m sure your brother would much prefer to spend his leave in London than in a little country village.’

Penelope dropped her fork and looked up, startled, her eyes meeting Heath’s.

‘I don’t think it’s dreary here at all,’ Heath replied easily. ‘I find it highly entertaining. And my brother will be looking forward to resting after his adventures. I’m sure he’ll enjoy the country.’ He winked at Penelope and she felt slightly appeased.

‘Really?’ Harry looked around as if to see what the fuss was about. ‘Well, I have some business in London, so I must go. Are you actually happy to stay here? I’ll only be a few days.’

‘You are more than welcome to stay,’ Georgina said quickly, ‘for as long as you like. We shall make you feel very welcome, won’t we, Penelope?’

Penelope blushed, picking up her fork. She felt as though her infatuation was displayed clearly on her face for the whole world to see, though she was yet to speak to her father.

‘I shall be happy to stay,’ Heath smiled, ‘thank you very much.’

‘And I’ll go off and have a fine time in London,’ Harry countered. ‘A
very
fine time.’

After dinner the party made their way to the parlour. Heath walked closely beside Penelope, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back.

‘I
will
have to leave shortly,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘I really can’t stay and rely on the Broadhurst’s hospitality for much longer.’

‘It has only been a few weeks,’ Penelope replied, feeling panicked at the thought of him leaving. ‘Surely you don’t have to leave yet? I know Georgina and Harry both enjoy your company, and I, of course…’ Her message was clear. ‘Plus, you have your brother visiting soon.’

‘I don’t want to leave, Penelope,’ he assured her, ‘but I must for a while. I’ll have to return to Cambridge at some stage; I cannot delay my studies indefinitely.’

‘But you will come back?’

He tweaked her chin, grinning down at her. ‘Of course I will.’

‘Penelope and Heath, what are you two talking about?’ Georgina called, interrupting their brief moment. ‘Are you interested in playing cards with Harry and me, or do you prefer your own party?’

Penelope smiled and went to take a seat opposite Georgina, deliberately not answering. Did she prefer their own party? Oh yes, very much so.

Heath took the seat beside her and they joined the card game, shooting covert glances each to each other all night and their feet bumping beneath the table. Every time he touched her, either on purpose or accidentally, Penelope felt a delicious thrill.

‘Mrs Priscopp called by today,’ Georgina announced, playing her hand, ‘to inform us that
her Anne
plans to visit this week.’

‘That’s nice,’ Penelope commented dryly.

‘Nice for Mrs Priscopp, at least,’ Georgina added, not bothering to hide her derision. ‘We shall be expected to receive her, so I propose we have a picnic this weekend, if the weather is fine.’

‘It has been fine forever, it seems,’ Harry observed. ‘Very strange for this time of year.’

‘That’s a grand idea,’ Penelope said. ‘Will you be back from London in time, Harry?’

Harry made a face. ‘We’ll see. Although, I’m in no hurry to meet Mrs Priscopps’ niece again. I don’t have fond memories of her. Has she changed much?’

‘Not at all,’ Georgina remarked. ‘She is exactly the same, worse, I fear.’

‘Is that Anne Priscopp you are talking of?’ asked Heath.

‘Yes,’ replied Georgina, ‘do you know her?’

Heath nodded. ‘Yes, although not very well. She’s acquainted with my brother.’

‘Your brother? Why, how amazing. I wonder how she would know your brother, hasn’t he been away at sea?’ Penelope asked casually, desperate for any information on Heath’s family. He spoke so rarely of them.

‘He’s been in Spain for several months,’ he replied, ‘but often calls into London. I’m looking forward to introducing you.’

‘I look forward to it, too,’ Penelope smiled, warming beneath Heath’s eyes.

Georgina raised an eyebrow, her voice low and humorous. ‘I fear your brother is coming here simply to meet Penelope. I do so hope we receive an introduction too. After all, is he not staying with us?’

Heath laughed. ‘Forgive me. Of course I’m looking forward to you
all
meeting my brother.’ He winked at Penelope.

‘Is he much older than you?’ Penelope asked.

‘Not quite five years. I think our parents had given up all hope of having any more children before I arrived. I was only twelve when they died, and Sebastian just a young man, already signed to the navy. He tended to me though; he made sure I was properly educated and cared for. I have a great deal of respect for him.’

It was the most Heath had ever talked about his family, and Penelope felt inclined to ask more questions, but she thought it best to wait until they were alone. She wanted to know everything about him, to share all of him.

Finishing their game, Georgina and Penelope bid goodnight and retired for the evening. This time though, Georgina followed Penelope to her room.

‘You must tell me all!’ she cried, shutting the door behind them. ‘I know something has transpired between you and Heath, and I have to know what.’

‘I think you’re imagining things,’ Penelope lied, her face colouring.

‘Penelope, you cannot lie to me; I know you too well,’ Georgina announced. ‘And I am not leaving until you tell me. Or shall I go back downstairs and ask Heath myself?’

Penelope blanched in alarm. ‘No! Don’t!’ she cried before falling silent. ‘I will tell you, but you must promise to not tell anyone else, not even Harry.’

‘I promise,’ Georgina assured her. ‘And you know I never tell Harry anything.’

Penelope hesitated, then the words fell eagerly from her lips. ‘Heath and I are engaged.’

Georgina gasped. ‘Engaged? To be married?’

‘Yes. Oh Georgie, I love him! I love him more than I can say,’ she gushed. ‘But I’ve only known him a few weeks and Father might not approve. But tell me, Georgie, do
you
approve?’

‘Well, I—’ Georgina faltered, at a loss for words. ‘Of course I approve! I want your happiness as much as my own, and I can see how in love you are. Just as I can see how very much in love with you he is.’

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Of course,’ she said, ‘can’t you? He lights up whenever you enter the room, and he stares at you so intensely. When you are there, he sees only you. Surely you’re secure in his affection for you?’

‘Well, yes,’ Penelope admitted. ‘But he is so handsome and charming, and I am just a parson’s daughter.’

‘You are
not
just a parson’s daughter,’ Georgina corrected, ‘You are
my
cousin. You are a Broadhurst, and you are a beautiful and accomplished young lady.’

Penelope sighed, Georgina’s kind words resting lightly on her chest. ‘Yet I am not sure Father will approve of such a hasty match.’

‘I think you sell your father short,’ Georgina said. ‘If Heath’s character is blemish-free and his manners good and acceptable, what objection would your father have if you are in love? Besides, we have both heard the stories about him and your mother. They barely knew each other when they wed, and her background was little known, her family of no consequence.’

Penelope fell quiet. That was true. Perhaps her father wouldn’t disapprove the engagement.

Then she asked the very question she’d wanted to ask for days. ‘Georgie, tell me, did you ever hear back from your aunt in London?’

BOOK: Time After Time
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