Pierce's eyes bore into her. "I hope, sweetheart, you would at least think about it before you say anything."
"Married -- you're crazy. We're both masquerading as someone we aren't in a time we don't belong, how can you even think about something like that?" She imagined waking up next to this man for the rest of her life, and it made her smile.
His exasperation had an underlying amusement. "I'm trying to propose. Why are you making it difficult?"
"Think about it, Pierce. We -- I don't know if I'm going to be here ten minutes from now, much less tomorrow. What if I get zapped out of here the way I was zapped in? What if we lose each other that way?" She had to be realistic. "We can't even think of this now. There are too many obstacles. We should enjoy what time we have."
"Nothing is impossible," Pierce growled, bending his head, blocking out the blue sky, the rough smooth texture of his lips killing all reasonable, coherent thought. "Tell me there's no feeling there." His hand gently touched her breast. Isabeau felt the heat of his fingers burn through her dress. He dipped his head and captured her lips again.
"Feelings have nothing to do with it," Isabeau admitted when she lifted her head for air. She looked toward the house. "We'd better go back inside."
"This isn't the end of it," he warned.
#
Isabeau waved one last time, then let her hand drop to her lap. She was happy for Lila and Megan, yet sad at the realization that she would never see them again. Something inside her knew it, and the knowledge weighed heavily on her.
With a sad smile, she recalled Lila's last words. "I hope someday my family can repay you for what you have done, Isabeau."
Leaning back against the plush cushions, Isabeau closed her eyes, feeling bone tired and drained, unwilling to see her friends get smaller and smaller as the coach traveled further away. At least before they left she had taken one last picture of Lila and Megan beside the house.
Lila had decided to accept an invitation to visit with her newly found in-laws. If all went well, they would be leaving for South Carolina in two weeks with Michelline and Markam Forrester. Tentative plans had been made to find a dwelling of their own when they settled in South Carolina.
The goodbyes had been tearful, but despite this, Lila had looked happy and younger, as if a weight had been lifted.
Isabeau listened to the steady sound of hooves on the dirt road, felt the gentle lurch and sway of the coach. Without warning, the carriage dipped, rocking her sideways, knocking her hat askew. She removed the remainder of the pins securing it, then flung the expensive little piece of nonsense like a Frisbee onto the opposite seat.
She stared out the window at the sleek hindquarters of Pierce's mount.
Chin on her palm, Isabeau sighed. Pierce had made it abundantly clear he wasn't happy with her. Since leaving the Forrester's gardens they had not exchanged more than half a dozen words.
Men! She reflected glumly. Markam Forrester had offered him the use of one of his horses and he had chosen to ride horseback rather than sit in the carriage with her.
All because she had not immediately accepted his proposal. She loved him, of course she did. But everything was so uncertain.
Isabeau turned and looked out the other window, stretching her legs out, not quite able to rest them on the seat across from her.
Darn him anyway. She knew she'd been right. Why the hell was she feeling guilty and sick over their disagreement about marriage?
She slumped back down in the seat.
Isabeau didn't want to argue with him. She wanted to make the most of their time together. She knew the time was ticking away.
Pressing her fist against the silk material covering her thigh, Isabeau wondered how much longer she would be here. Two weeks…ten years…forever?
If she let herself give in to her inclination to love Pierce, disregarding what might happen in the future, she was afraid that one day she'd wake in the future by herself. Or maybe remain in the past while he returned to the future.
At least if he were in the carriage with her, they could glower at each other, and she'd be distracted from these unhappy feelings.
#
When they arrived back at the hotel, Isabeau jumped from the carriage unaided, kicking her skirt out of her way impatiently, cursing the confinement of it as it swirled back around her ankles.
She strode past Pierce and the driver, not waiting for him as he gave last-minute instructions to the man about the return of the coach and horse. The skies had opened up, and rain and hail were pelting down, turning the otherwise passable road into a quagmire.
Pierce had still not ridden in the carriage, apparently preferring to get drenched rather than ride with her. Besides that, being jostled and jolted around had not helped her disposition in any way.
Isabeau considered herself relatively easy to get along with, but at the moment she felt downright cranky. She needed to be alone. She was afraid if she said anything to Pierce, she would throw aside all caution and agree to anything he wanted.
She entered the hotel and went immediately to her room, tossing her hat and coat carelessly on a chair.
Brooding, she moved to stare out a window at the dark street below, shivering as the rain pelted mercilessly at the glass. She leaned her forehead against the cool pane, trying to make sense of the last twenty-four hours.
Instead of railing at fate, she tried to put herself in Pierce's shoes, tried to see this situation from his viewpoint. She wanted to marry him, but there was just so much uncertainty.
Tired beyond endurance, Isabeau prepared for bed.
A knock sounded on her door.
Hoping it might be Pierce she grabbed her coat and pulled it over her naked shoulders. She opened the door a crack.
It was not Pierce but a uniformed bell boy. "Mr. Hawk sent his regards, Ma'am, and ordered dinner for you. May I?"
"J-just a moment." Isabeau pulled the coat on fully and opened the door wider. He'd thought to have dinner sent to her. All she had done for the last half hour was feel disgruntled because he wanted to marry her. There was even a beautiful vase of white roses.
Isabeau reached into her satchel for the bills Pierce had given her, but the boy shook his head. "Thank you, Ma'am, but Mr. Morgan already took care of it."
He closed the door quietly behind him.
Isabeau listened to each little sound in the hallway, hoping Pierce would come and share the meal with her, but he didn't show up. She touched the beautiful roses, then lifted one long stemmed rose from the milky blue vase. She inhaled the scent, smiling just a little. She and Pierce would have to figure a way out of this dilemma. Surely there had to be a way back, but she had to wonder if they would always be separated by time.
#
Pierce leaned his head back against the upholstered chair. Lifting his cigar to take another drag, he blew the smoke toward the ceiling. His mother was right, he conceded dryly as he twisted the expensive cigar into the ashtray: smoking was a disgusting habit.
Pierce lifted the glass tumbler instead, tossing the remnants of the amber liquid down his throat, eyes gritty from smoke and lack of sleep.
Women! Who could know what they were about from one moment to the next? He'd asked Isabeau to marry him, and she had not reacted as he'd hoped.
A brief tap at his door had him sitting up in a hurry. His heart picked up speed. Had Isabeau accepted his peace offering?
Malry stuck his head around the door. Pierce slumped back down into the chair, lifting the glass once more.
"Hello, lad," Malry greeted him cheerily, tossing his coat on a chair. "How'd it go today? Everything turn out?" He halted several feet from Pierce, sharp eyes running over the younger man, brows drawn. "What happened? Doesn't look too promising from the looks of you."
A match flared, and Pierce put the flame to another cigar, ignoring the obvious curiosity on Malry's face as he tossed the match into the cold fireplace.
"What's the occasion?" He ignored the dark look sent his way and noisily stomped over to sit in a chair opposite the younger man.
Without a word, Pierce pushed the whiskey bottle toward his friend.
"Don't mind if I do," Malry said complacently, helping himself. He held up the glass and nodded to Pierce. "Do we have anything in particular to toast?" One brow cocked, he narrowed a glance at his young friend.
With a long suffering sigh, Pierce said with surly humor, "Why not to the independent women of the world?"
"Why not, indeed!" Malry agreed amiably. "A modern notion I don't agree with, but I know how you feel about such matters."
"Hear, hear." Pierce raised his glass, then suddenly thumped it down on the side table next to him before he'd taken a sip. The liquid sloshed up the sides and over his hand. He closed his eyes wearily. Taking out a handkerchief, he wiped his hand and ran a palm over his face.
"Independent women," he muttered, shaking his head in disgust. "I should listen to you and remain single."
Malry studied his glass.
Pierce grimaced. "Some women take independence too far."
"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain young lady by the name of Isabeau?"
Pierce stood and stretched tired muscles. "Who else? She's a veritable thorn in my side. Stowing away on my ship not once but twice." He turned toward Malry, who quickly wiped the smirk from his face. "Have you ever heard of such a thing?" He gave the other man no time to answer, but went on darkly, "and now, when I propose to the woman -- "
"Propose!" Malry gasped, jumping to his feet. "Good God, man!"
"-- she says it's not possible."
"Well! I'll say that was a close call on your part."
Pierce narrowed his eyes on Malry. "I've played the field. I'm thirty-one years old for God's sakes. I want to marry her."
"Why?" Malry appeared bewildered. "She's a thorn in your side and too independent to boot. She's got a mind of her own, and she'll only order you around so you're nothing more than a doormat for the rest of your life. It's best this way," he finished sagely, nodding his head as he helped himself to more whiskey. "Look at me, I've never succumbed, and I do all right."
The combination of alcohol and weariness had slowed Pierce's thinking process -- but he had come to know Malry, and now he stared hard at the man. With a rueful smile, Pierce conceded defeat. "I hear you."
"Well, it all has to come right, doesn't it?" Malry asked with a hint of concern. "Even for Miss Amelia."
"I can only hope."
Malry grimaced, looking at his pocket watch. "It's getting late. If we're going to get an early start in the morning, I really need to be finding my sleep."
"I've been considering our time schedule, and I think that perhaps the day after tomorrow would be better to leave. We won't have to rush.
"This business with Lila put me behind a day or so, but I should be able to finish the contracts for the ship tomorrow. I'd rather Isabeau was out of the city by the time I take care of the last bit of nastiness with Connors."
Malry eyes narrowed. "Are you expecting trouble?"
Pierce shrugged. "Always expect the unexpected and you'll never be disappointed. I'll meet up with you down the line."
Malry looked doubtful. "How do you think she'll take to the idea?"
Pierce looked at him. "She'll have to go along with it. There won't be a choice."
Malry's brows shot up, his expression saying it all.
"It's the safest way," Pierce rasped.
"You know that and I know that, but --"
"She'll see reason."
Malry got up to leave, a knowing smirk on his face. "You got your work cut out for you, I'll grant you that, lad. Better you than me. I'm too old for such games."
Pierce snorted rudely.
As Malry moved toward the door, Pierce said, "You know, don't you?"
Malry half turned back to him, but he said nothing, waiting.
Pierce narrowed his eyes. "You know when to keep your both closed, Malry, I'll give you that. You know I'm not Hawk."
"Aye, lad, that I do," Malry finally said. He walked back toward Pierce.
"When?"
"Almost two weeks after the attack down on the wharf. I confess I wasn't sure given the state of your mind at the time, but soon it became apparent I was dealing with two men, not one."
Pierce started laughing. "I could level that same charge at you Malry, two men, not one. The irritating, loud seaman or the city-dressed detective. What tipped you, even though I look like Hawk?"
Malry smiled. "Aye, on the outside I'll grant you there are many similarities. No offense meant, but there were too many tell-tale signs. Don't forget I've known Hawk since he was a young lad. He's a good man, but there's a darkness to him due to his experiences." He shook his head. "Be glad you don't carry that same burden."
"And Amelia?"
"She's the light in his life, the one who's helped pull him from that dark pit of memories."
"And I assume you know his whereabouts?"
"That I do, and it's best if it remains a secret for now. He was near killed that night, but my lad's getting stronger by the day," Malry said with satisfaction. "It's getting harder to keep him confined. When I last saw him, he was cussing me out." He lifted a brow. "Tell me your name, lad, so I can give it to Hawk. He'll want to know who to thank."
"Pierce Morgan. And as outlandish as this is going to sound, I'm a descendant dropped here from the future." He lifted a brow. "I know that must sound incredible."
"Aye."
"And yet you look pretty unimpressed. So tell me what you know."
Malry scratched his head. "For the best part of a month I wasn't sure about you." He wrinkled a dark eyebrow. "You know I listen, yes, I know they call it eavesdropping, but I listen to everything. Didn't take me long to figure out something was going on with those sweet old ladies in your -- ahem -- Hawk's household."
"Belva and Maize."
"Aye. Now I'm a man with his feet firmly planted, but I will tell you I've been all over the world and I've drawn the conclusion there's nothing that's impossible in this world or the next. It takes a different kind of belief to just walk away when something is telling you your eyes aren't fooling you. If I hadn't seen men disappear before my eyes, I might have had a difficult time accepting this moving through worlds."
"You could have given me a hint or something."
Malry grinned. "And would you have been believing me when you didn't believe Isabeau?"
Pierce grunted. "Point taken. Well I am hoping we can get to the bottom of this entire mystery so Hawk can get on with his life." He looked suddenly a Malry. "When did you know about Isabeau?"
"On that first carriage ride to Hawk's Den." He gave a bark of a laugh. "Not that I let on. She mentioned it, watching me to see my reaction no doubt. I think she was figuring it out herself." He narrowed his eyes. "And then if you think back, how else would she have been aboard the ship?"
Pierce snorted. "Yes, but I don't subscribe to crystal balls either. Is it possible for Belva to get us back to where we belong?"
Malry offered no answer.
"Isabeau knows you are not Hawk?"
"I told her, although she was beginning to figure out something was up. The more I was with her, the more I kept getting glimpses of memory."
Malry clapped his shoulder and extended his hand. "About this whole charade -- I'm sorry for the toll it's taken on you, lad." A look of discomfort crossed his features. "In the very beginning, I honestly thought you were Hawk, you two being the spitting image of each other. After I started to figure out you might not be him, I found him. He'd been taken in down on the wharf, but he'd been beaten pretty badly and hadn't gained consciousness. It's when I started nosing around that he turned up. I moved him to a safe location, but I do admit to taking advantage of the circumstances. Even though you had amnesia, you were healthy. I'm sorry I had to do that to you."
Pierce smiled. "I wouldn't have missed it. I just wish I could have met him."
Malry shook his head. "Not an idea that sits well with me. It's too strange, this moving through time anyway, and to have you meet him in the same time, no, doesn't sit well with me at all."
"I guess you're right," Pierce conceded.
"Look at it this way: you're his descendant and he now owes you his life."
"Maybe," Pierce conceded, "but at this point, he's been given no choice."
#
Isabeau knocked at Pierce's suite early the next morning. As he opened the door, she thought he looked a little rough around the edges. Malry, she noticed, was also there, going through paperwork piled on the desk.
Pierce opened the door wide. "Come in. We're just going over plans for the return journey to Hawk's Den." He did a double take at the velvet cape covering her head to toe. "I hope you're not planning on going out alone."
She smiled. "No."
Malry nodded, gathering the papers together as he threw her a wide grin. "Cap'n is anxious to get back home."
"I'm sure whoever is watching is expecting me to return by train, so I'm going to the train station, but in actuality I'm going to give them the slip and travel part of the way by horse. The remainder will be by train. Isabeau, you and Malry will be taking the train."
"What?" Brows knit, she turned from watching Malry adjust his tie in the mirror to confront Pierce. "Why can't we all go together?"
"It's safer if we split up. Whoever's dogging my steps might be here waiting. It'll be safer for you to go with Malry, then in --"
"Forget it." She shook her head, her jaw set. "I'm not going. If you think you're foisting me off on Malry, I'll take care of myself and see to my own transportation."
"I'm highly offended," Malry said mockingly.
Isabeau turned to stare at him.
"I won't have you traveling by yourself," Pierce said. "This is the safest way."
"I disagree." She folded her arms. "It seems to me the safest bet would be three pair of eyes watching out, not just one. I think we should all go together." She narrowed a glance at him. "Unless of course you have another reason for getting us out of town earlier?"
Malry stifled a laugh.
"By the way, you look very nice," she told him. "Why are you in a suit?
Malry rubbed his neatly trimmed side whiskers. "I'm not out to sea now. A man can wear a respectable suit here and there without arousing suspicion."
Pierce made an impatient sound. "Look, I've already decided the best way to do this. You and Malry will be leaving tomorrow on the coach. It will take you as far as Washington, where I'll try to meet up with you. From there, we'll take the train home."
Isabeau put her hand on the doorknob. "No, thanks." She pulled the door open. She didn't understand why, but something inside told her it was vitally important she remain obstinate on this point.
"Told you she wouldn't go for it," Malry murmured in an aside.
Isabeau was sure he had meant for her to hear that.
Pierce threw him a killing glance. It earned him a grin. Malry was on her side in this.
Pierce grabbed her elbow through the cape, pulling her back into the room and kicking the door shut with his foot. "What are you going to do?"
"If you won't take me, I'll find my own way -- wherever I decide to go."
She didn't look at him as she shrugged, hoping he wouldn't call her bluff.
"I want you to come with me," he gritted out, releasing her arm.
She smiled up at him. "I'd be glad to. When would you like me ready to leave?"
Malry started laughing.
Pierce looked angry, then rasped, "No, I meant --"
"You've lost, lad, know when to admit it," Malry chortled, greatly amused watching the two of them.
Pierce ignored him. Dammit, he was a lawyer! How could this woman twist his words around? "If you go off on your own, what are you going to do about money for fares, food --"
Isabeau turned innocent eyes on him. "I will figure it out as I go along. I have been on my own before. It's not all that terrible." She crossed her fingers behind her back. "I can take care of myself."
The poor man looked as if he was about to explode. Isabeau was ready to take pity on him, when he said abruptly, "It'll be a hard ride -- all on horseback."
"I won't complain."
"I'll only stop to rest the horses."
"I can handle it."
"Have you ever --"
"I can do it," she reassured him calmly.
Malry smirked.
"Don't you have something else to do?" Pierce snapped.
"Certainly. I'll take care of it right now." Malry strolled over to the doorway, sending Isabeau a wink. "Nice bluff," he commented, closing the door.
Red-faced, Isabeau looked up at Pierce.
"Don't think you've got me twisted around your finger. I've still got some surprises in store for you." He towered over her.
Isabeau smiled, tension releasing inside her chest. She simply walked forward and melted into his arms. His arms closed tightly around her. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his firm mouth. Immediately Pierce began to kiss her back. "I have a surprise for you, too," she said throatily, lacing her fingers across the back of his neck, closing her eyes as she caressed the silky hair there. "I'm not a manipulative person, Pierce, I'm just doing what I think is right."
"Would you have left?" he asked, lips teasing the taut cord along her neck.
"What?" she asked breathlessly, having totally lost the thread of their conversation.
"Left for parts unknown?"
Isabeau pulled his mouth to hers, fingers twining greedily in his silky dark hair.
"What do you think?" she murmured.
Isabeau rocked her slimness against him, letting him take her weight. Pierce backed her up against the closed door, capturing her two wrists in one hand.
"Isn't it hot in here?" she murmured, pulling at the fastened neckline of the deep blue velvet cape she wore.
Pierce nodded but didn't stop his mouth from trailing across her throat and down.
"I need to take off this cape," she said.
Pierce stepped back, helping her unfasten the cape and pull it off her shoulders. He stepped back, astonished. Damned if his hands didn't shake. "Jesus, Isabeau, you walked out in the hallway like that?"
She stood naked before him. "Yes, and do you know what? I love the feel of velvet against my skin."
With a groan, Pierce placed his hands on her hips, up her ribcage and cupped her breasts. Roughly he pulled her slender but sturdy body into his arms, then he gentled. She wasn't very big. She gripped him tightly around the waist and he stopped worrying about hurting her. She was strong in her own way.
He loved the feel of her warm skin. He felt on fire as their mouths devoured each other.
Isabeau pushed her hips up against him, wanting him closer, tighter. She could feel the hardness of him pressed tightly against her lower body. It felt deliciously wicked with her naked and he still fully clothed.
Pierce's tongue thrust between her lips, in and out, hot and wild. She clung to him, her hands gripping his shoulders. Pierce swung her up in his arms and carried her across the room.
She felt the cool fabric of the settee on her back, and she arched upward, pulling the shirt from Pierce's shoulders, running her fingers through the dark arrowing of hair on his chest. Her fingers reached his waistband and she ran her palms up the sides of his ribs, feeling the ripple of hard muscle. Her legs entwined with his as the world fell apart.
Electricity shuddered through Pierce, winding hot coils all around them, sparks hissing and flying in every direction.
Isabeau came to him as if she were dying of thirst, her response to him echoing his own desperate need to have her. He took her, again and again, and she came to him for more, giving him everything, her soft cries affecting him more deeply than an impassioned plea.
Pierce. Isabeau stretched deliciously. "I never knew making love could be like this," she said, looking into his deep blue eyes. Just making that eye connection made her shiver.
Pierce touched his beautifully molded mouth to hers, and she felt him smile. "It will only get better, sweetheart."
Content, she lay back in his arms. How could she survive leaving him if they became separated by time?