Mary Balogh - Timeswept Brides

"We're going back to Lindsey House, Jane-"

"No! Oh, no!"

"Come on. Let me make the decisions for now. You're in no condition."

In the end, their decision was made for them by the innkeeper and his wife. Rushing upstairs after the commotion was safely over, they both demanded to know who was going to be responsible for settling up the bill.

Jane just stared at the two of them, her lifeless green eyes dull and uncomprehending.

Amelia decided to bluff it out. Neither of them looked that tough, and what could they do that would be any worse than what Jane had been through? Throw them out?

"He took base advantage of the lady," Amelia said quietly as she gathered up Jane's bag, her few possessions. "We'll both be leaving now, and not troubling you further."

"But what about the money?" the innkeeper's wife demanded. Jane started to sob again, and Amelia realized that the innkeeper was cowed by his overbearing wife.

She addressed her comments toward the wife. "As God is my witness, you should be ashamed of yourselves for what you allowed to transpire beneath this roof tonight." Before she was halfway through her statement, she was pushing Jane out the door and toward the stairs.

Something happened when the young woman started to move. It was as if part of her came back to life. Her pace quickened, and even though Amelia realized she was barefoot, she didn't dare try to go back for her shoes.

"I want my money!" the innkeeper's wife demanded. "Filthy little whores!" Her face was turning an ugly mottled color, and Amelia hoped they could get out the door of the inn without her trying to pull their hair out by the roots.

The rain was still coming down in torrents when both women dashed out the front entrance and toward the road. Amelia put her arm around Jane and supported her, trying to keep her upright. Her bare feet kept slipping and sliding in the oozing, sticky mud.

Lightning arched and crackled through the night sky, illuminating everything around them. Amelia counted to three, then heard the deep rumble of thunder. Too close. And here they were in the middle of a forest with immense trees, perfect lightning rods, all around them.

Jane turned her face up to the rain, and it was as if the heavens wept with her. Her vivid hair, already soaked, streamed wildly down her back. Her left eye was almost completely swollen shut now, her lower lip a grotesque puff.

She worked her bloody lips clumsily, trying to speak.

"Don't say anything," Amelia began.

"I heab you-at dah dor."

/ heard you. At the door.

Amelia nodded, signifying understanding.

Jane's fingers tightened on her arm, only this time she wasn't forcing her to follow her. This time she was merely trying to keep her balance.

"Tank you, Em-ma."

"You're welcome."

Jane Stanton started to cry again, but she kept walking.

Know the true value of time; snatch, seize, and enjoy every moment of it.

– Lord Chesterfield

She felt as if the world were coming to an end.

Rain poured down, slicing through the dark sky. Amelia kept her arm firmly around Jane's waist, forcing the girl to take step after step as they made their torturous way along the side of the muddy road. And it wasn't as if Jane dragged her down. The woman was a fighter; she wouldn't give up. Though Amelia had her doubts as to whether Jane wanted to go back to Lindsey House. She rather doubted it. Jane probably wanted to put as much distance between herself and those odious innkeepers as possible.

The one thing Amelia hadn't counted on was meeting up with any sort of danger.

She sensed the hoofbeats before the riders came into sight. Acting purely on instinct, she dragged Jane into the shelter of a nearby tree, hiding them behind its massive trunk. Several riders, seven or eight of them, came into view, their horses galloping clumsily through the mud. From what Amelia could see of them in the rain and darkness, they seemed to be dressed in a rather ragged fashion, and she surmised that their mounts were probably stolen.

What men like these would choose to do to two women, alone on the road, was anyone's guess. She just didn't want to find out. Her breathing sounded loud to her own ears, but she knew they couldn't hear her over the fury of the rain and wind. The sheeting water also obliterated any tracks they might have made.

The riders galloped past, and Amelia resolved to watch the road, both ahead and behind them. No one was going to get a chance to hurt Jane again.

They walked further down the road, alone for the next hour, before she heard hoofbeats again. This time, both she and Jane dove for the nearby underbrush, seeking the safety and shelter of the thick forest.

But the rider, a lone man on a black stallion, looked strangely familiar. As did the horse. Amelia's heart started to race as she recognized them both. And she should have-she'd spent so much time in the great hall admiring his portrait, astride that same stallion.

Leaving Jane in the shelter of a giant oak, she ran out into the road. Lightning split the heavens, illuminating their small stretch of highway, as she screamed into the night sky.

"Jonathan Lindsey!"

Somehow, despite the noise and the rain, the thunder and lightning, the weakness and exhaustion of her voice, he heard her. The stallion wheeled, controlled by his master's hands. The great animal galloped in her direction, and had barely come to a stop before Jonathan vaulted down out of the saddle and was standing beside her.

Amelia had to look up into his face, and his resemblance to Hugh absolutely overwhelmed her. For a moment she couldn't speak as she took in the sight of his face, his eyes, his dark hair plastered back from his face, soaked by the rain.

Those eyes, so fierce and dark and blue. Intent and passionate and worried.

"Jane?"

"Right over here."

She wondered how they were all going to get back to Lindsey House on one animal, then surmised she was probably in for the longest and wettest walk of her life. After all, Jane was still in shock, after what she'd been through. The girl needed immediate attention.

"Jane!" When he reached her, he went down on his knees, pulled her into his arms, and held her against his strong chest. Jane began to weep as Amelia remembered another time, by the boathouse, when Hugh had held her in his arms and promised to show her every day how much he loved her.

You'll come to believe it.

She hadn't. She'd let doubts and old fears come between them, get in the way, and now the closest she might ever come to seeing Hugh Lindsey was in the face of his ancestor.

It didn't bear thinking about.

"I've got a carriage coming," Jonathan informed her as he and Jane stood up. She seemed to have lost that glowing vitality again, that will to fight, and now leaned on him, giving over to him, seeming to draw strength from him. As Amelia watched the two of them, she thought Jonathan Lindsey a thousand times the man Robert ever had been.

What disastrous judgment Jane had exercised in this matter. But what could have been expected, when all she'd been instructed to do was to look to everyone else in her life to give it meaning? That was women's real tragedy in the past, and even in Amelia's present. The hardest lesson growing up was knowing you were the captain of your own ship, and that some decisions had to be faced head on.

Actions most certainly had consequences.

Yet how was Jane to have known this, when she'd never been given the right to make any but the most frivolous of choices?

The carriage came into view, looming up in the mist and rain like a giant ship. Jonathan flagged it down. He helped Jane inside it, out of the rain. Then Amelia. He tied his mount to the back of the vehicle, then climbed inside, shut the door, and rapped smartly on the roof with his fist.

The carriage started its jouncing, rocking motion forward, and Amelia thought she'd never been as pleased with any particular mode of travel in her life. The Range Rover be hanged-at least this contraption would get them all safely back to the shelter of Lindsey House.

Yet the roads were still dangerous at this time of night, and in a storm such as this. She'd noticed the pistol Jonathan had tucked inside his waistband, and Amelia had utter confidence that he would protect both her and Jane, with his life if necessary.

How like Hugh he is. How Jonathan would have loved to have met him, just for a moment.

She thought how extraordinary it was, to see both people come to life, step out of the mists of history, become living, breathing spirits. They sat on the narrow seat across from her, their faces illuminated by the shifting light from the small lantern. Even in such irregular light, she could see the deep concern on Jonathan's face; the way he looked at Jane was so unbearably intimate that Amelia had to glance away.

Jane had started to cry again, and seemed to be trying to tell him what had happened. It crossed Amelia's mind what an extraordinary thing that was in itself, that she should trust this man with all a woman possessed in this century- her reputation. But this was Jonathan Lindsey, not your ordinary man. He soothed her to silence, and Amelia found comfort in his deep, rich voice.

Soon Jane quieted, her agitation ceased. Amelia leaned back against the seat, her eyes closed, feeling as if she were invading a most private moment but so glad she was out of the driving, chilling rain. Jonathan hummed to Jane; Amelia was sure the man was rocking her in his arms the way a father would tenderly hold his most beloved, wayward child. He talked nonsense into her ear, and at one moment Amelia even heard what sounded like a breathy, exhausted laugh.

Then silence. Jane was asleep, or had fainted from exhaustion, she wasn't sure which. The interior of the carriage was silent as it rocked along the muddy road.

Amelia thought both of them were probably sleeping, or at least Jonathan would have his eyes closed when she chanced a peek. And that moment was the one she knew would be burned into her soul for the rest of her life. She'd remember this, even if Emma's spirit subsumed hers completely and all her former memories left her.

Jonathan rested his chin on the top of Jane's fiery hair. She was asleep, curled into his chest like an exhausted kitten, her small fingers gripping the front of his white shirt and waistcoat. What was so extraordinary about this particular scene was that Jonathan was crying.

The tears coursed down his cheeks, and it seemed as if all the pain in the world were mirrored in his eyes. A pain so deep it seemed to have shattered him.

Amelia couldn't look away. At that moment, she realized the depth of his love for Jane, that he felt her pain as if it were his own, as deeply as she had. He knew her, he could see inside to those most secret recesses of her soul. He knew what tonight had cost her, and it was tearing him apart.

He wasn't thinking about what Jane's folly had done to him, to his dreams, to their impending marriage. He simply empathized, felt her pain, knew her fears. He loved her.

She must have made a slight noise, for somehow Amelia knew she'd alerted him to her presence. His gaze swung to hers, their eyes met, a long frozen moment in time. Amelia almost shrank back, for she knew this certainly had to be a breach in behavior, a most serious offense.

She wasn't even aware of the tears running down her own cheeks.

"We will not speak of this night to anyone," Jonathan said, his deep voice breaking.

Amelia didn't say a word. Couldn't.

"Do you understand?"

She nodded her head.

"We have to protect her."

She found her voice. "Yes."

He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Tell me what happened."

With a certain sort of person, you left out the details, sugarcoated the facts. With Jonathan Lindsey, Amelia sensed that nothing could be left out. He was an extraordinarily sensitive man, but strong as well. He could and would be strong this evening, for both himself and Jane.

Briefly, but with as much detail as she could remember, Amelia recounted their evening.

"And you did not think to come to me?"

“The-this plan came up suddenly. She-she threatened to leave without me. I thought the most prudent course of action was to go with her. To protect her. I had no idea…" She faltered as tears filled her voice and her nose stung painfully. "I had no idea of what that man intended to do to her."