Chapter 15

Sam stared at Robert while he slept. He was a beautiful man. Dark hair begged her fingers to smooth it back. Full lips turned with the hint of a smile. She wondered if he dreamed. Leaning close, she pressed the whisper of kiss to his bare chest. He released a soft breath, as if comforted by the touch. Her heart filled with conflicting emotions. Making love to him had been the single most beautiful experience of her life. And it would never happen again unless she changed his fate somehow. She touched his arm, gently rousing him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing eyes clouded by sleep. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head.

“What then?” He rose up on an elbow, becoming more awake.

Tears spilled despite Sam’s wish to quell them. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I…I can’t cry. You need to listen. To understand. Robert please…” She launched into the warning she’d rehearsed a thousand times.

“I know, but can we discuss this later when we’re both fully able?” He rolled over, settling down again before she answered.

Sam stared at his broad back. She tugged him to face her. “You know what?”

“I’m no fool, Samantha. Did you think I wouldn’t know?”

“Know what?” she asked again in total confusion.

He looked away. “I admit I was surprised you weren’t a virgin, but—”

“What?” Anger spiked her voice. She sat up, pulling the sheet around her nakedness.

“I would like to know how it happened, but we should wait until we can discuss this rationally. With less awkward emotion.”

Sam stared at him in disbelief. “First, not what I wanted to tell you. And second, I was in a committed relationship. That’s how it happened.”

Robert bolted up in bed. “You were married?”

“No, thank God.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Ross and I just lived together.”

Color drained from his face. “You weren’t even married to the man?”

“Of course not. After what he did to me?”

“Sweet Jesus, what did he do to you?” His voice rose above hers.

Sam’s chin quivered. “It’s hard to explain. Ross… Well, he… He was a mistake.”

Robert groaned when she began to cry again. “Please, Samantha. I need to understand what has happened to get us to this place.”

“Fine, you want details? He cheated on me, slept with my best friend, and others. God knows how many. And he…” She let her words drop, unconsciously touching her cheek as the horror of his physical abuse returned.

Robert rose naked from the bed. He paced, his fingers flexing as if he were preparing to strangle someone. “He beat you, didn’t he? The filthy bastard. I know his kind, all too well.”

Tears flowed freely from her. She hadn’t planned any of this, and yet here it was, the ugly truth about Ross devastating her again. “What started as a typical fight ended with me in the hospital. Of course he swore he’d never do it again. He said he loved me, but it was a lie. Everything about Ross was a lie.” When she braved a look, Robert was staring at her, frozen in place. She turned away, her gaze falling to where she’d wadded up the sheet in her hands. “I ran when he wouldn’t leave me alone. That’s how I ended up at Highland House.”

Robert returned to the bed looking drained.

She met his gaze through watery eyes. “I never planned on you. On any of this. I would take it all back—my first kiss, my first time making love. I would give everything to you if I could. I know things like this are important in your time. To you. They’re important to me, too, but…” Her chin rose defiantly. “You weren’t there. I was alone.”

He pulled her to him in a fierce hug and kissed her head. “I would not change you, Samantha. Not a single, blessed thing.” He tipped her chin to stare into her eyes. “I’m sorry. For not understanding. Mostly, for not being there to protect you. I would tear the man limb from limb if I could.”

“Never going to happen. He hasn’t even been born yet, to you anyway.” Sam took a steadying breath. “I need to fight my own battles.”

Robert snarled in response.

She kissed his shoulder, smiling when he closed his eyes, as if relieved. They’d been through a lot together. “Our worlds are very different. We’re separated by more than time.”

“I see that now,” he murmured sadly. “I want to understand. It’s just—”

“I know,” Sam stopped him. “We need to be patient with one another. Find common ground.” She slid her fingers through the dark hairs on his chest. They skipped down the ripples of his firm belly, following a titillating trail. “I love what we shared tonight. It was beautiful. Unbelievable. I never want to stop feeling like this.”

Robert stood and pulled on trousers before bringing Sam his robe. He wrapped the oversized garment around her and tied the tasseled sash. Wide, brocade cuffs fell past her hands.

“Now you find me clothes, after you’ve had your wicked way with me?” She giggled at his disapproving face.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smoothed her hair.

“I’m not sure I can handle any more surprises tonight.”

Taking her hand, he tugged her out the door.

“Where are we going?”

“Downstairs.” When she hesitated, and he added, “Trust me.”

He guided her through the dark house until they ended up in the ballroom. Sam gasped at the beautiful sight. Snow swirled outside the patio doors creating a hypnotic scene. An enormous Christmas tree stood in the far corner.

Robert hurried her over to it. “What do you think? It’s quite impressive when lit.”

His boyish laughter charmed her, and she found herself grinning. She touched a lacy branch and sighed, “It’s magical.”

Sparse by modern standards, the tree was fresh and fragrant, filled with thin white candles just waiting for a match. Delicate ornaments hung from silvery hooks.

“Amelia decorates most of it. Charles torments her while Mother directs. Godfrey climbs a ladder and teeters like a marionette. It’s an annual fiasco, truly.”

Sam imagined the happy scene. Robert’s family, the people he loved most in this world, preparing to celebrate. Reality cast a sudden dark shadow. They had no idea what was coming. This would be their last holiday together. Heartsick, she tugged his robe tighter. “Robert, your future…”

He kissed her quickly, silencing further words. “I don’t want to hear about my future unless you’re in it.”

“But—”

“Samantha, please, indulge me. Just one more moment.” He pulled something from the tree and placed it in her hands. “My surprise.”

She stared at the small box wrapped in pink paper. Like the iridescent inside of a shell, it shimmered in her hands. Opening it with trembling fingers, she found a golden locket attached to a delicate filigree chain. “It’s…beautiful, but…” Her words caught on emotion.

Robert grinned down at her. “It’s no puppy to make you swoon. I hoped it would still please you.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile at his reference to the night they first met. In an impromptu move, she turned and held up her hair. He positioned the necklace in place, his warm hands remaining to caress her skin.

“I’ll never take it off,” she swore, putting a hand to her chest to slow her thrumming heart.

“Whatever you do, woman, don’t cry again,” he warned before she threw her arms around his neck.

****

In the hour just before dawn, Robert kissed Sam and said, “Thank you.”

Her heart swelled at the simple sentiment. She knew the warmth and appreciation she found in his beautiful gray eyes would never leave her. They’d made love again—slow and gentle—with his gift pressed between their bodies. Sam lingered in his bed, basking in the glow of how he made her feel. Cherished.

Robert rose to light a lamp, the soft light caressing his ruggedly handsome form as he moved about the room. She loved seeing him among his things—books and maps, architectural drawings and journals, his clothes neatly organized in a large wardrobe. His private space. Theirs for this moment.

She flopped back to the rumpled bedcovers, knowing what it was to be blissfully happy. Every tiny detail was worth savoring. Wood smoke and candle wax, the scent of their bodies clinging to the sheets.

Robert was an accomplished lover, accepting nothing less than her complete and utter satisfaction. The memory of all they’d shared made her breathless even now. Intense and demanding in many ways, he could also be patient and encouraging—so unlike Ross. Tender, smart, funny…the list went on and on. There was no denying she was completely in love with him.

Fear and uncertainty wormed their ugly way into her thoughts. She had stayed longer this time but what now? Time demanded she no longer wait to act. They had to change what was coming.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Sam ignored an anxious wave of nausea. “There’s something I must tell you, and it can’t wait.”

She held her breath.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Her eyes flew open a second before she fell from the bed and hit the floor.

Kevin stood in the doorway of the master bedroom looking pissed. “I’m gonna pretend I know nothing about this when Kristine goes nuclear. No one messes with her shit, especially her Robert Pennington shit.”

Sam’s gaze shot around the room. It was completely different from Robert’s bedroom. The expensive bedcoverings Kristine had purchased—because the pattern was ‘historically accurate’—lay in a rumpled mess beneath her.

Kevin held up his hands. “I don’t even want to know.”

“I was sleeping,” she rushed to say, her tone frantic. “The storm last night—”

“What storm?” His voice was calm in comparison, like the eye of a hurricane.

She struggled to her feet as Robert’s big robe shifted.

“I find your car on the road with a flat tire and a dead battery. Then I find your phone in a ditch. You even left your purse.” He tossed the purse to her. “What the hell, Sam? I figured something really bad happened.”

“No, it was the tire…last night. That’s all.” She worked to mask her confusion.

Kevin stared, his gaze wandering over every inch of the hot mess she was.

Sam fidgeted on bare feet, self-consciously combing through her sex-snarled hair.

With a shake of his head, Kevin strode away.

“Wait, why are you here?” She ran after him as he descended the main staircase.

“I work here, remember? I’m going out to hit something with a hammer. Or my fists. Fists sound better.”

Sam bumped into him when he stopped, and he spun on her. “Samantha Merrill, what the hell are you doing? I’ve been calling you, figuring you might need some cheering up. A friendly…friend or something. I see I was wrong. Looks like you’re getting just what you need.”

She squirmed, clutching the robe together. Kevin’s dark scowl derailed her. “What time is it?”

“Late. There’s a tour in twenty minutes.” He heaved an exasperated sigh. “I’ll cover for you.”

“Thanks. I’ll hurry.” She bolted but paused to look back when he called after her.

“I’m never gonna understand women. You’re all crazy.” Kevin wore the strangest look, something between anger and hurt.

“Yes, but you men make us this way.” She ran then, heading straight for the bathroom when she was back in the apartment.

Turning on the shower, Sam went to the sink. Her reflection in the mirror gave her a start. She’d obviously been well loved. There was no denying it. Puffy red lips, whisker burn on her chin. Worst of all, a small hickey marred the skin of her neck. Add the naked except for a man’s robe part, and it was no wonder Kevin was angry. He knew the signs of a tryst better than anyone. No doubt, he was searching the house right now, for whomever he thought she had slept with.

Slipping from Robert’s robe, Sam held the garment to her face. His scent lingered in the fabric. She smiled. It had been a long time since she’d been sore in all the right places. She would never forget last night.

Forget?

Guilt and fear suddenly filled her. She’d disappeared again before warning him.

****

“Watch me, Robbie,” Amelia called as she collected her mount preparing for the next jump.

Robert smiled with pride as his sister sailed over the highest fence with ease.

Godfrey came to his side, offering a rare but genuine smile as he looked on. “She’s quite good, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Might I suggest you conclude your riding lesson for today, sir? Mrs. Pennington has returned and is asking for you. She’s sure to disapprove of Miss Amelia sitting astride, and in trousers no less.”

“Good point.” Robert patted his butler on the back before he left.

“Amelia,” he called to his sister. “Time to get back.” He watched her turn his way. When she was close he asked, “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Oh, yes! It’s simply divine to ride like a man. I feel so free without all those horrid layers of crinoline and lace. A sidesaddle makes one feel positively unbalanced.”

He smothered an indulgent grin. “One can only imagine.”

“Whatever gave you such a marvelous idea?”

“A friend brought it to mind.” He walked beside her horse leading the way to where Chance waited. “Hurry now, Mother is home. We shall both be shipped off if she sees you as you are now.”

“Which friend?” Amelia refused to be put off. “Who told you I might wear trousers? Was it Miss Merrill?”

“What’s this?” He raised a brow. “What do you know of Miss Merrill?”

“Only that she’s been here. You two were caught kissing in the stables. And she was in your room. All the servants are talking about it. They say you never dally with skirts. But Miss Merrill wasn’t wearing a skirt. She was wearing trousers.” Amelia frowned. “The story gets a bit fuzzy after that.”

Robert gave her a stern look though he wanted to laugh. His sister certainly had a way about her. Always good-natured, she was a lovely free spirit unafraid to speak her mind. “You should not spread gossip, especially if it’s about me. Now hurry along before you get us both in trouble. Mother is not nearly as understanding as I.”

Amelia gave him a pretty pout. “There has never been gossip about you, Robbie. All you ever do is work, so I quite enjoyed hearing it. Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

With a smack to the horse’s rump, he watched his sister bound off in a smart canter. She was a better horseman than most men he knew.

Robert went to the fence where Chance waited. It was a cold day, but the snow had receded, leaving great patches of brown earth. A familiar pain lodged in his chest as he recalled rescuing Samantha from the storm. He thought about it constantly though he had not seen her since.

“What say you, old friend?” he asked running a gloved hand over Chance’s thick winter coat. “Shall we escape? I fear I shall go mad if I don’t get her out of my head.”

Swinging into the saddle, he turned his horse toward the long stretch of lawn before the house. Urging Chance into a full gallop, he reveled in the damp, biting cold of the day. It stung his face, causing him to think of something other than Samantha for a brief moment. All too soon, he slowed to an even trot and entered the woods on his favorite trail. Relief flooded through him as the trees closed in like sheltering arms. He loved these woods—his woods—the special place, which had called to him since he was a boy.

Back then, Highland House was a summer home, a mere portion of the grand estate it was now. He would wait all year to spend a few short weeks rambling about the place unrestricted. Unlike Boston, here there were no tutors or schedules to keep, no constant reminders of duty or responsibilities. Here was heaven.

Perhaps it was why he sympathized with Amelia and gave her free rein whenever possible. And he refused to send Charlie away even though it was customary for boys his age. Life had a way of snuffing out one’s spirit given the opportunity. After living under his father’s heavy hand, he swore he would never allow such a thing to happen to anyone in his care.

Robert followed the trail he’d taken countless times to the highest point in the forest. He savored the feel of the ancient woods—still and cold, the smells of damp earth and undergrowth abounding. It was as if the place had a life force all its own, mysterious and wise. This was Indian land, and it was said this “high land,” as they knew it, was sacred. A place revered yet feared for its magical powers.

He pulled up on the reins, stopping. Magical powers? Like a doorway in time? Samantha’s words came back to him. “It must be the entire property…” Uneasy, he stared at the shadowy path before him. He knew what lay ahead. Or did he? Was his way in life clearly marked, as he’d once believed? After a long pause, he eased up on the reins. Chance released great huffing breaths, tossing his head and grinding the bit as they climbed.

Robert’s thoughts swirled around Samantha again. He’d taken her to his bed, made love to her like no other. “All the servants are talking about it,” according to his sister. He was not one to ruin a woman, especially one he cared for. But he wanted Samantha, selfishly, and without regard for anything else. He strove to be a gentleman. Hard work and a fine reputation, those things mattered. Yet something about her made him want to throw it all away and never look back.

Despite the cold, he swiped at sweat forming on his face. He had tried convincing himself his reaction would be the same to any other woman. This madness likely stemmed from going too long without feminine companionship. But his heart was having none of it. Samantha haunted him day and night…her luscious mouth, her strong yet supple body, the indescribable feeling of sinking into her tight wet…

He shifted his position in the saddle with a groan.

Yet she was so much more to him. Bright, engaging, always ready with a joke or fact about something interesting. She enthralled him. There was something else, too—an underlying sadness, perhaps. Like a schoolboy, he strove to make her smile. And God forbid she cried. With a disbelieving laugh, he acknowledged he was far gone. He loved the woman.

All the other women he knew were like Rebecca Kingston, carefully fabricated works of fiction. There were rules about everything—separate bedrooms, separate lives, summers in Newport, winters in the south of France. Everyone’s lives tied up in neat little bows of mind-numbing tedium. Performing like trained bears for the masses until one day, you wondered how the hell your life had become such a sham.

Men often took mistresses to break the monotony. His own father and Eddie jumped at the chance, but it wasn’t for him. He wanted a wife, a partner for a lifetime. Was he ready for a woman from the future? What would become of them if they married? The idea thrilled him, yet at the same time, it seemed impossible. Samantha never stayed long enough, even disappearing from his bed mid-sentence this last time. Would he ever see her again? Could the doorway in time slam shut on them? Would he survive if it did?

Reaching the top of the great hill, he paused. Wind never ceased this high, howling across what appeared to be a pattern laid out on the ancient plateau. The ground was barren, covered only by curved lines and clusters of crumbling rock. As a boy, he and Eddie pretended to hunt treasure here, collecting stones with lined symbols carved into them. It was their secret.

Legend said the stony peak was an Indian burial ground, older than anyone knew. They often imagined encountering ghosts here while playing, more than once tearing off into the woods as if the devil himself chased after them. The mournful cries were likely just the wind, and yet now Robert wondered. How his heart had pounded and his head spun as they raced home to bury their “treasure” in secret places.

A shiver passed through him, and he tugged his coat tighter. Chance stomped the ground. He patted the animal’s tense neck. “Easy, big fella, I know you don’t like this place.”

Robert surveyed the view beyond the hill. In one direction, he could see the dark froth of the sea, in the other the chimneys of Highland House. This was his land now, his legacy, which would pass to his brother if he didn’t have an heir. No wife, no children—a condition he commonly chose to ignore, but not today. He wanted those things. He wanted Samantha.

Chance danced in an anxious circle, whinnying. “All right,” Robert finally agreed. “Let’s go home.”

It was dark by the time he was heading to his room to change for dinner. He passed a maid in the hallway sniffling into her apron. She jumped when he addressed her. “What’s this about?”

“Beggin’ your pardon, sir. It’s Miss Amelia. She’s in a whole heap of trouble.”

Robert smiled at the forlorn girl. “Nothing new, Emma. Is Miss Amelia in her room?”

“Yes, sir. Mrs. Pennington said she weren’t never to leave. Not ever,” the girl whined.

“I’ll see to her.” He went to his sister’s door and wrapped softly.

“Go away.” The muffled words came from within.

Robert let himself in and found his sister sprawled on her bed, face down in a sea of frills and lace. “You’re a pretty sight,” he remarked dryly. “I see you’re wearing the new gown mother bought you.”

Amelia sat up facing him. Her eyes were red from crying. “I hate it. And I hate being a girl. I shall die of misery. Mother says if I don’t behave she’s going to ship me off to a convent in the north of England where they pray all day and reflect on their sins. What does it even mean?” She flung herself back to the pillows. “I’m never allowed to do anything. How can I sin?”

Robert sat on the bed to console her. “No one is going to ship you off. Mother can bluster all she wants, but I’m the master of this family. Moreover, I’ve got it on good authority being a proper lady is highly overrated.” He smiled at the memory of Samantha’s words.

Brightening, Amelia sat up again. “Did Miss Merrill say so?”

“She did.”

“I like her, Robbie. I think you should marry Samantha and send mean old Rebecca off to a convent. She should pray all day.”

Robert merely laughed, though his sister had hit a nerve.

“Don’t you ever think of marrying her? She’s pretty enough.”

“I’ve been considering that very thing today. But I’m afraid she’s gone away.”

“Where?” Amelia innocently asked.

“I wish I knew,” Robert admitted with a sad smile.