Mary Balogh - Timeswept Brides

She glanced around the bedchamber, trying to take it all in and immediately noticing that something was wrong.

Jane. Gone. Her mind raced frantically. Where was she? Had Jonathan come to get her? Had they gone for a walk? Of course not; Jane was in no condition to go anywhere.

She remembered the Lindsey legend, the story that had been passed down for countless generations, and as Amelia leaped off the bed and started out the door, she prayed that the house hadn't changed that much. She could still make it to the tower room from Hugh's master bedroom in about three minutes.

How long did it take a young, frightened girl to suffocate? If she did it right, her neck would snap instantly and her pain would be at an end.

Amelia's side hurt as she raced up the circular stairs, praying Jane hadn't thought to lock the door, hoping against hope she wouldn't find herself helplessly pounding on another strong wooden barrier. Had anyone else suspected? Had anyone else tried to save her the other time? Jonathan hadn't thought she was in such a state; his letters had revealed as much.

Was he still calming his father? Perhaps he and Jane had slipped off somewhere to be together. No, they would have merely asked her to leave the room had they wanted their privacy, for whatever reason.

She climbed the last of the high, narrow stone steps, her breath coming in burning gasps. Her heart pounded, she felt slightly nauseous, but Amelia pressed on, and as she entered the tower room, her worst fears were confirmed.

Jane stood, a silhouette in the moonlight, on a wooden chair. A rough noose lay around her slender neck, the thick rope securely fastened to a cross beam. Once she kicked the chair over, the deed would be done.

For a moment, Amelia couldn't say a word; she simply stared. Shock had almost rendered her immobile. She watched as Jane's split lip moved; the girl seemed to be talking to herself. Her eyes were closed. Amelia wondered if she'd simply gone mad. Then realization struck.

She's praying.

Jane was asking for forgiveness for what she was about to do. And Amelia, no stranger to despair herself, knew the depths a soul had to reach to contemplate such a desperate act.

"No."

Her voice sounded loud in the quiet room, and startled Jane out of her almost meditative state.

"Emma." Her tone was that of a mother asking her disobedient child to go back to sleep. "I want you to leave this instant."

"I can't. You know that. Now, I want you to come down from that chair, but first you have to take that rope from around your neck-"

"Don't you come near me!"

Amelia stopped midstride. She'd approached Jane as carefully as she could, as one might come close to a deer in a forest glade. Jane had that same wild, frightened expression. Though Amelia had thought her so strong, this woman had reached the end of all hope. There was nothing more for her, and Amelia could see it in her eyes.

Stop her.

She couldn't consider any other action. She knew it was wrong, to force destiny to alter itself, to bend in upon itself. The repercussions of this action would be felt for centuries, but Amelia was powerless against the strong tide of emotion assailing her at the thought of this vibrant young woman ending her life.

Stop her. Whatever it takes.

Telling the truth would be a good place to start. Amazing, how lives were altered when the facts were exposed.

"He won't be able to live without you."

That stopped her, just as a small slippered foot almost stepped off the wooden chair.

"You're lying." But her voice had the slightest tremor to it.

"No. I'm not. You see, I finally had a vision."

Jane didn't answer, she simply stared at her.

"Like my aunt."

She continued to stare.

"You can't do this to him, Jane. He loves you so."

"No." Her voice broke on the one word, but Amelia was far too concerned, too wary, to believe she'd gotten through to her. Yet.

“Yes. He ends his own life two years after this date, on the anniversary of your death. He comes up to the tower and re-creates your act." She was hurting Jane and she knew it, but she had to hurt her, to shock her, in order to get through to her.

"His manservant comes up and cuts him down-"

"Stop this! I demand it!"

"-and he is buried next to you, out in the family graveyard, as he wished. He wanted the two of you to be together for all eternity."

"I don't want to hear this! I can't!"

"Do you love him, Jane?" Amelia was shouting now, edging a little closer. Trying to get close enough that if Jane did take that fatal step she could grab her and keep the rope from closing around her neck long enough for help to arrive. She shouted to attract Jonathan, knowing how voices could carry from the tower. She'd loved the Lindsey House of the twentieth century; there wasn't much about the old estate she hadn't discovered while working with John and falling in love with Hugh.

Now it would all work to her advantage.

She watched Jane carefully. Calculated the distance between them. Her chest hurt with the effort.

“Do you love him?'' she shouted again, praying the entire time that the sound would attract Jonathan. He would know what to do. He would help her. Once Jane saw him, she wouldn't be able to leave him this way.

"Yes!" The word came out an almost feral snarl, and Amelia knew Jane hated her for forcing her to admit what she'd finally learned during this long night.

"Then take that noose from around your neck. Now."

Jane hesitated, and Amelia fired her final shot, the only ammunition she had left.

"I see the letter," she began quietly, praying the entire time that her voice would hold up. "He wrote you almost fifty letters after you took your life, Jane."

"No!"

“He needed to talk to you, to finish it-''

"No, I will not hear this!"

"Yes, you will." Amelia was fully aware of the consequences of her decision. Ensuring Jane's survival meant that Hugh would never be born. She knew that, and just as surely as she loved him, she knew what she had to do. John's words echoed in her mind.

He left the entire estate and all its holdings to several distant cousins. That's where my side of the family comes in…

That side of the family had been close to starvation when they'd inherited Lindsey House. Now, if she succeeded, they wouldn't. Hugh's branch of the family wouldn't survive. She'd never see him again, whether she managed to make it back to her own time or not.

Amelia hesitated for one agonizing moment, but once she started, her voice never faltered.

'' 'My dearest Poppet-' ''

That stopped Jane cold.

"How do you know-"

'' 'My dearest Poppet, I find that I cannot go on without you.' " The words rushed out of her mouth, words she'd committed to memory over countless readings of that particular letter. Words she had wondered at, wondered how any one mortal could feel so deeply, could be willing to sacrifice their life because of another.

Now she knew.

"Stop it! I won't tolerate this!"

" '-I'm tired and I want to come home. To you. I'd thought I would come home to you each evening-' '' The pain in her chest was tremendous. This had to be what a heart felt like when it was breaking.

"Don't! You have no right!" But life was back in those green eyes, that vivid presence that had struck Amelia at the inn, by the fire. Jane was angry. Jane was back.

They were screaming at each other like fishwives, and Amelia almost laughed out loud. Whoever couldn't hear them had to be deaf-and Jonathan Lindsey was many things, but hard of hearing wasn't one of them.

" 'You are everywhere, my darling, yet nowhere-' "

"Damn you!"

Oh, Hugh, forgive me. I love you.

" 'God will forgive me for what I am about to do-' "

"No!"

" 'It is said that He never sends us more than we can bear, but I find that I have reached my limit.' " She took a deep, steadying breath. "I see him writing the words, Jane! You cannot cause him such pain!"

"Emma, stop this!"

She could. So easily. If she stopped right now, before Jonathan reached them, if she let Jane sink into the despair that made such an act possible, she might see Hugh again, and John, and her old life-

Impossible. Amelia knew she could never live with herself if she made such a decision.

We're constantly creating and molding the future all the time.

She saw Hugh in her mind's eye. That first meeting, in the garden over breakfast. Somehow, in the strangest way, Hugh had known the truth all along.

"Oh, Jane!" Something of the despair in her heart colored her tone. Their gazes locked, and Amelia knew this was her last chance to get through to her.

"Jane, to love someone like that! I used to think it was beyond me, until I let it go! I doubted it could exist and I lost it! Don't you understand-you have a chance to have something most people never get to experience! Please don't make the mistake I did!"

Jane faltered, and Amelia knew she almost had her.

"I can't. He-he won't want me when-"

"Damn you-you're so much more than your virginity! You're more than the physical body I see before me! And if you cannot believe that, then why were you praying?"

She had her. Almost.

"He loves you, Jane. Really, really loves you. And if you're selfish enough to take your life because of the shame in a foolish mistake, then I-'' A sharp pain squeezed her heart, and she grabbed her right arm. It felt decidedly odd.

She struggled on.

"If you're selfish enough to lose what most people only dream about-damn it, I want you to stop thinking about yourself and think about him!"

"How do you know all this? It's not just that vision, is it?"

Right the first time out, Jane. Smart girl, got it in one.

"No. I'm… not from here." The pain in her chest was excruciating. Like being in the grip of a giant, grinding jaw. She was starting to sweat; she felt the sick dampness along her temple.

"Where?" The green eyes were lit with a feverish glow. "Where are you from?"

Her eyes rolled up, her head lolled back as the pain claimed her. Crushed her. Pain like she'd never felt before. She steeled herself against it. From a great distance away, she heard booted feet on the tower stairs.

Help. Jonathan. Help me.

"From… a long way… far away…" Her vision started to cloud over. Dear God, her heart wasn't breaking, it was failing. She was suffering a heart attack.

"Emma!" And Jane, impetuous as ever, forgot the rope and stepped down to help her.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. Amelia fought for one last surge of strength. It propelled her beneath Jane's slight body, just long enough to prevent the rope from snapping her slender neck. Her short, stubby arms grasped the slender, flailing legs, and as Jane felt her support, her struggles ceased.

"Emma, no, put me down! The noose is off, it's off I tell you! Please, please put me down, I don't want you to-''

She didn't hear the rest of the words. Her vision dimmed, then faded to black.

Hugh. Oh, Hugh. I love…

The last sound she heard was that of a woman crying.

Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.

– James M. Barrie

She woke slowly, to the sound of birds chattering and singing. To the softness of the English country air. The light was diffused as it entered the tower room, and for a moment as Amelia blinked and tried to orient herself, she didn't quite know where she was.

Or who.

Hands. Her hands. Slender and pale, not a freckle in sight. She pulled at her hair as she sat up, and saw strands of the lightest blonde, not Emma's brown-

Everything stilled within her.

"What an extraordinary dream," she whispered, then touched the floor of the tower room. Carpeted. Just like before. John had been so very proud when he'd described how he'd brought the little room back from its rather dilapidated state. It was his sanctuary, his hideaway, his place of peace where he came to be renewed.

Such a powerful dream… almost real…

She sat very still in the comfortable learner chair, so happy to be back. Now, through what she'd experienced during that one wild night of her imagination, she realized she'd lost all her fears concerning her upcoming marriage. She would marry Hugh; they would have children; they would contribute to the Lindsey line and make their lives matter. She would teach their children to live each day to the fullest, to love one another, and to never, ever take anything-or anyone-for granted.