Heart's Delight Read online

  “Look. Is that your sister’s family?”

  He took it gingerly and leaned forward to peer at it more closely. “That’s Margaret and Walter, with young Edward and Elizabeth. But they look—”

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  Margrett Dawson

  “Older?”

  He nodded.

  “The man who had the mirror, who took it from the house when it was torn down, had the photograph too. He gave it to me. Now do you believe me?”

  He looked at her for a long moment. “I think I must.” He gazed around the room again and gave a mirthless laugh. “I could write my own fantasy book.”

  “Please take the photograph. It’s your family. You should have it.”

  He gave a slow smile that started nerves tingling again. “Thank you. A photograph that doesn’t yet exist. It would scare my poor sister out her wits, but I’ve kept a few secrets from her in my time.”

  He gazed at the photograph in his hand. “My God,” he said at last. “Who would credit it? What a lark!” He gave a delighted chuckle. “You have the advantage of me,”

  he said. “All I know is your first name.”

  “Elaine Christie. I live here.”

  He obviously remembered his manners and bowed his head. “Quincy Alexander Lockyer, at your service.” He looked around again. “Are you alone? No husband, no servants?”

  “My husband—” Dared she tell him she was completely on her own? She compromised. “Is not here right now. Very few people have servants anymore.”

  “That so?” He came to sit beside her and she shrank into the corner of the couch.

  She could sense the warmth of his body and a kind of vibration in the air between them.

  If he touched her, there was no telling what she might do.

  He noticed her recoil, misunderstood. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.

  I’m a perfect gentleman.” His gaze lingered on her mouth and she felt her lips soften.

  Her nipples puckered under the thin fabric of her robe. She hoped to God he wouldn’t notice.

  He stretched one arm along the back of the sofa, lolling elegantly in the same position she’d seen through the glass. His gray trousers fit closely to his leg, showing the movement of muscle at his thigh. Without his blue coat, his white shirt revealed even more clearly the set of his shoulders. Strange that a seemingly indolent man would seem so powerful in the upper body. His face and neck were tanned and his hair had golden streaks from the sun. The diamond in the cloth at his throat winked in the soft light. The backs of his hands were brown and sinewy. He gazed at her from dark blue eyes. A small buzzing feeling start somewhere in her middle.

  How was she to deal with this man who frightened her in more ways than one? By all logic, he couldn’t have come from the nineteenth century. And yet here he was with the dress and speech patterns of more than a hundred years ago. Add to that he was one of the sexiest men she’d ever seen, provoking thoughts in her that made her warm all over.

  There was one hope left. “When it’s safe for you, I think you should go back.”

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  Heart’s Delight

  His eyes twinkled at her. “I certainly must go back, for I have obligations to meet at home. But if I’m out of my own time, could those ruffians follow?”

  “I don’t know.” It hadn’t occurred to her that the unseen assailants might burst into her house. “It didn’t seem as if anyone on the other side could see me.”

  He shook his head decisively. “I certainly couldn’t and in any case Walter wouldn’t let them get that far into the house. So I’m safe here talking to you for a while.”

  “I suppose so.”

  He looked around the room again, his gaze lingering longer on the machines. “I think I’m going to enjoy finding things out.”

  He leaned forward and looked at her earnestly. She could have drowned in the depths of his gaze. “You’ve shown me a photograph that proves my family is safe. That was my major concern. I can spend some time with you in your future world. As long as I’m home by Monday.”

  Monday! Good Lord! She’d been hot and weak at just the thought of him last night.

  There was no way she could keep him around for five or six days.

  He touched her hand, and she felt a shiver spread from her toes up through her middle until the whole of her body tingled. The heaviness which had never truly disappeared burned and throbbed between her legs. Heaven send her the strength to resist him for an hour.

  He ran his thumb over the back of her hand. “To tell you the truth, Ellie, I’ve got to the point where I take everything that can happen in my stride, so to speak. I’ve had a bit of a checkered youth, you know. I was wild. Black sheep of the family and all that.

  So they shipped me off to the Colonies. My sister Margaret was here and took me in until I can make my own way. I was sick as a dog and bored out of my head when I wasn’t terrified out of my mind all ‘round the Horn and up the coast. After that, not much will frighten me, not even a pretty girl in her night attire in the twenty-first century.” He smiled, and the tingle grew into an ache between her legs.

  A remittance man! Sent to fend as best he could in some place far away where the family wouldn’t be embarrassed by any of his devilment.

  She snatched her hand away and stood up abruptly. “We’ll wait an hour or so, then you can try going back.”

  He rose to his feet and stood close enough to her that she could see the faint shadow of stubble beginning to appear on his jaw.

  “If you say so. This is your house.” He sketched a bow, inclining slightly from the waist. She felt the warmth radiating from him and bit her lip. When he moved she caught the scent of musk and lavender and mellow tobacco smoke, blending in an intoxicating mixture that made her head swim. She had never felt this almost uncontrollable urge to push him back down on the couch and to straddle his thighs, opening her warm, wet pussy to him under the loose robe… I want… I want…

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  Margrett Dawson

  He lifted his hand and brushed the dried blood from his forehead. Good. She could find something to distract her from the lustful thoughts that filled her head.

  “You need to see to that cut over your eye. Come this way.”

  She took him to the downstairs powder room and took out a little first-aid kit. “Not much we can do about the bruise except cold water.” She turned on the tap. “How is the arm?”

  He gazed at the fittings. “It’s fine,” he said absently. “My elbow’s sore, that’s all.”

  “Good.” She reached into the medicine cabinet. “This is a tube of antibiotic—” She saw the look of incomprehension. “It will prevent infection. I’ll put some on after we clean it with soap. Sit down.”

  Obediently, he sat on the stool. She placed a butterfly bandage on the small shelf.

  He was too close to her in the confines of the narrow room and she felt her heartbeat notch up again. In the mirror of the medicine cabinet she saw the flush rising on her cheeks.

  She dealt quickly with the cut, then put away the supplies, moving things unnecessarily to refrain from stroking the bruise on his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw with her fingers… His head was on a level with her chest and she ached to pull him into her, to cradle his head between her breasts. He would put his arms around her and pull her tight against him and nuzzle each breast in turn. Using the vibrator earlier had solved nothing. It had just left an ache that refused to go away and moisture between her legs that flowed stronger every time she touched him. She noticed the flicker of pain on his face when he moved his arm. She pulled herself together.

  “I have some painkillers that will help with the arm. Can I offer you some coffee, or tea?”

  “You have coffee?” he sounded surprised.

  “Yes, why not?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t had good coffee in months. I’ll take some.”

  “If you need anything else—” God, if he needed to use the
bathroom, he might not know how to— “Just press this lever if you need to flush the toilet.”

  She left him to work it out and beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen, where she filled a kettle and plugged it in. She stood, her head bowed over the sink, while she tried to collect her scattered thoughts. Dear God, what had she done, bringing this man into her living room? But whatever this attraction was, she was controlling it. She could handle it until he went back through the mirror.

  “Miss Elaine.”

  The voice came from behind her and she whirled.

  “Where’s the cooking stove?”

  He’d followed her in to the kitchen, the gash over his eye now covered with one of her bandages. The sharp smell of antiseptic soap mingled with the scent of coffee.

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  Heart’s Delight

  Heaven knew the kitchen was ordinary enough and hadn’t had a facelift for years, but she tried to see it through his eyes.

  Here we go, she thought as she started to point out the running water, the electric outlets and the microwave.

  Quinn had an inexhaustible number of questions and she was glad when the coffee was ready. She carried a tray back into the living room and gave him the pills. He took his same seat on the couch. The good news was that reciting the wonders of modern civilization had cooled her blood so she could sit on her footstool and keep her hands off him. While he’d been busy examining everything, she’d made sure her robe was firmly tied and pulled up to her throat. He would be gone in a few minutes and she could go back to bed and dream…

  “Damned interesting,” he said, taking a mug of coffee from her. “So you can keep food frozen for months and heat it up in minutes, ready to eat.” He shook his head in wonder. “A hundred years or so on in time and you live better than the queen.

  Certainly better than my father.”

  She seized the opportunity to think about something other than Quinn’s body. “Tell me about him.” She cradled her mug in both hands and took a sip.

  He raised his mug to his mouth and followed suit. “Wonderful,” he said. “Where does this coffee come from?”

  “Somewhere in South America, I think.”

  He shook his head. “Amazing.” He popped the pills into his mouth and took another mouthful of coffee.

  “About my father,” he continued. “Not much to tell. He has vast estates in Devonshire and I soon learned I was a big disappointment to him. Fortunately my brother Douglas fulfilled all his hopes of a dutiful son. He was the heir and I was the spare. I wasn’t needed. Douglas enjoys robust health, you know.” His lips twitched. “I got into a few scrapes, you know, over the years. Father eventually got fed up with me.

  And here I am.”

  She felt a twinge of pain at the sadness in his voice. With only the half-joking explanation he’d given she knew he’d been an unhappy little boy.

  He put down his empty mug and smiled at her again. “Good coffee.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced at her watch. “Maybe we could try sending you back. It should be quiet by now.”

  He sighed and stood up. “My life story,” he said. “Always being sent on, or back.”

  Elaine picked up his discarded jacket and folded it over her arm, smoothing the fabric. Her fingertips tingled as they brushed the cloth that had lain so close to his skin.

  “Don’t forget this,” she said, handing it to him. “Maybe Margaret can get it mended for you.”

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  Margrett Dawson

  Quinn took it without a word, and they moved closer to the mirror. He squared his shoulders. “How does this work?”

  “I really don’t know. I just reached in and—”

  She stretched her hand toward the glass but Quinn grasped her fingers before they could make contact. “If I’m never to see you again,” he said, “I have to thank you properly for helping me. Goodbye, Ellie.”

  He dropped his jacket and pulled her closer. Before she could protest, his arms were around her, holding her tight against him. His mouth was on hers, hard and yet gentle.

  He tasted of warm coffee. Her arms rose instinctively to his neck and she felt the smooth fabric of his shirt under her fingers and the hard muscle beneath the cloth. Her wandering fingers rested on his jaw, aware of the rasp of the stubble on the tips. The blood pounded in her ears so loud she was sure he could hear it. His hands were warm and firm on her back and she quivered as they moved deliciously over her waist and hips. Through the mist of her swimming senses she leaned against him, feeling the long muscles of his thighs through her thin gown.

  She wanted the kiss never to end.

  At last he relaxed his grasp and raised his head. For once his expression was serious and his eyes betrayed depths of emotion that he’d been careful not to reveal before.

  “My God, Ellie,” he began. “I never thought—”

  She stepped back out of his arms and straightened her robe.

  “Forgive me,” she said, “I—”

  “Forgive you? That was a precious gift. Why should I forgive you?”

  “Well—” She cleared her throat. “Since it was a farewell—” She floundered again and decided to drop the topic of the kiss. Talking about it only brought home the enormity of her reaction to him. “Let me try the mirror,” she said.

  She strengthened her resolve and took one of his hands in one of hers, stretching the other toward the glass. The surface was cold and smooth and hard. She pushed more firmly. Her fingers grew white against the solidity of the glass.

  “Not working, eh?” he said.

  “It has to work.” She stood on a stool and leaned her shoulder against the unmoving surface. Nothing.

  She stared at it in frustration. “I can’t get through anymore.”

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  Heart’s Delight

  Chapter Three

  Elaine dropped his hand, and he thrust it through his hair in a gesture that was becoming familiar. “Tell me about the other times.”

  “It always seemed to be evening. There’s a full moon. I think the family came from dinner…”

  “Then it seems to me I’m stuck here at least until tomorrow. This will be a damned interesting adventure.”

  Elaine stepped down from the stool. “This isn’t funny.”

  “No, no, of course not. I’m not saying it is.” A frown creased his brows. “I’m dashed sorry about this.” He thrust his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders.

  “I can understand you being annoyed.” He turned away and picked up his coat. “I’ll leave.”

  “No.” Although she blurted it out without thinking, she knew she was right to say it. She could still hear the echo of his words, “Always being sent on, or back”.

  He faced her again, wearing his jacket now, the torn sleeve dangling. He patted the stock at his neck and fingered the pin.

  “I mean, where will you go?” she said.

  “I’ll walk to an inn.” He jingled some coins in his pocket. “I’ve got a couple of sovereigns on me—”

  Sovereigns! She sighed, then took a breath and made a decision she hoped she wouldn’t regret. “It’s late, you have no transport and I have a day’s work ahead of me.

  Let’s sleep on it, and decide tomorrow what to do.”

  She avoided looking him in the eye. “You can stay here. There’s a bed in the tack room out in the big barn. It’s quite comfortable. I’ll get you some bedding.”

  Still uttering the last words, she sped upstairs to pick up linen and towels. In a few minutes, her arms full, she stood at the top of the stairs. There was no sound from below. From her vantage point she could see most of the room and he wasn’t there.

  Maybe he’d gone. Maybe he was just a figment of her overactive imagination after all.

  She took a few more steps down.

  No one.

  “Quinn?”

  “Out here,” he said from the kitchen.

  Surely that wasn’t a little bump of relief she felt as she hurried to
the sound of his voice? She found him fingering the shiny appliances. She’d read time travel adventures where the one in the modern world, usually the heroine, had to explain every detail of 29

  Margrett Dawson

  modern life to the ignorant time traveler. Not in this story… She just needed to give herself some serious self-talk, forget the lingering memory of that kiss and her sexual fantasies, and tomorrow she’d find out how to send him back to his own time.

  He wouldn’t be around long enough to need to use a microwave.

  “Ready?” she asked and put down the pile of linen to slip on her shoes before opening the back door onto the night. The cool air stirred gently and ruffled the bushes along the fence. A barn cat scurried across the path on his nightly hunt, yellow eyes gleaming.

  Quinn followed close behind, then stopped to take a deep breath. “I smell horses.”

  “You’re absolutely right. I run a riding and boarding stable. This way.” She strode ahead of him toward the barn.

  Star heard her coming and whickered gently. One of the other horses stamped his feet. Metal fastenings jingled as the animals shifted in their stalls.

  She flicked on the light and headed for the small room where she and her grandfather had usually put up any temporary worker who didn’t have his own accommodation. It was sparsely furnished, but adequate. She opened the door and dumped the blanket and towels on the cot.

  “There’s an extra blanket in the—” She turned. He’d disappeared again.

  A low murmur came from the stalls. She took three swift steps toward the sound and stopped to watch. Quinn was in Star’s stall, talking to her, one hand on her neck, the other rubbing her flank. His ear was pressed to her swollen belly.

  Without moving his head, he looked up and smiled. “Another few weeks before she foals?”

  She nodded.

  He straightened and patted Star’s nose. “Nice horse.”

  The mare breathed out heavily and nuzzled his shoulder.

  Elaine felt a tiny, unreasonable stab of jealousy. “You know horses.”

  He nodded. “About the only thing I do know, apart from cards and women, of course.” He grinned at her wickedly, making her pulse race again.