DREAMS OF TOMORROW: A NEW ADULT TIME TRAVELING ROMANCE (Ravenhurst Series) Page 4

  Reed’s face went slack; his mouth fell open. He was shut down completely. He knew that move; he had used it quite a few times himself. He tugged at his collar, it was open, but he felt like it was suddenly too tight.

  Raven had no idea why she was being so outwardly rude to Reed, but it kind of made her mad the way he was making his brother feel inadequate for not dressing properly. She moved even closer to Lucian and gently placed her hand on his arm. The dumb look that crossed Reed’s face made her smile inwardly…take that Reed.

  It was weird, she felt completely at ease around Lucian and the complete opposite around Reed. It was probably because Reed made her feel stupid. At least that is what she tried to tell herself.

  Milford walked into the room. “Dinner is served,” his said, then promptly turned and walked back out of the room.

  “Thank God,” Reed muttered under his breath. Finishing off his drink in one gulp he set the glass down on the side table. He wanted to get this damn meal over with as quickly as possible. Frankly, he was tired of watching Raven and Lucian giggling together like imbeciles. Fine. Maybe they weren’t acting like imbeciles but it was a close call especially since neither one paid any attention to him.

  No one really said anything during the first and second courses. Lucian was right; the food was delicious and could rival a five star restaurant. Raven was a quick eater, especially when she was nervous. So she finished off each course in record time. In her defense, she hadn’t really eaten anything all day. A footman appeared at her side with a platter. She grabbed the silver serving spoons and put a generous amount of roasted vegetables on her plate. She lifted her fork to take a bite, but before she got it into her mouth, she caught Reed gawking at her. With her mouth half open to take a bite, she pulled the fork away and set it back on her place until the rest of the food was served. A pile of biscuits was placed at her side and she reached out to take one and then set it down on her plate. The footman stayed at her side, the plate of biscuits hovering over the table. Was she supposed to take two? She had no idea, but guessed she should since he was still standing there. Reaching out, she lifted up another biscuit…they were warm, buttery and looked delicious. Not able to help herself she glanced back at Reed. Big surprise, he was still gawking at her. She suddenly felt like throwing her biscuit at his head, but instead dropped it on her plate.

  Prayers Answered

  RAVENHURST * THE AGE OF CHIVALRY

  THE overbearing heat from the room had finally dissipated. Now, the frigid blew forcefully through the window. Marguerite shivered and tried to pull the blankets up, but they were caught. Her body ached, she felt like she had been beat with a stick. Her mind was groggy but as more cool air poured over her body, she woke fully. Her eyes snapped open. She sat up, fast…too fast. A pain shot behind her eyes, pressing against them. Lifting her hand she rubbed her forehead, trying to alleviate the pain. It felt the same as the first time she drank too much of Sebastian’s drink of choice. It was a heady brew.

  No. That couldn’t be right. She didn’t remember drinking anything…but her head was killing her. She kept rubbing her forehead absently, trying to remember…

  Her mind-spun round-and-round trying to recall where in the hell she was. The she was in was dark. It didn’t feel like her room. She always slept with the drapes open…slowly her eyes focused on an object across the room. What was that? It flickered in the breeze. A long slender stick jutted out from a metal ring attached to the wall. It was a torch…a torch?

  Her fuzzy mind finally cleared and then it all came crashing back. She knew where she was…

  Thank God! She was still at Ravenhurst. Which meant one thing, he would be here as well…, or would he? Oh, no…was she in the same timeframe?

  Lifting her hand she brushed her hair away from her face and the tip of her finger grazed her cheek. “Ow,” she exhaled, feeling the sting. Something or someone jostled the bed beside her. She closed her eyes, praying it was Darias. Please be him, please…she looked to her left. Relief poured over her. She wanted to shout with joy. Her dark knight was lying beside her, his warm, strong hand resting on her stomach. Reaching down she lifted his hand, and gingerly placed it on the bed, her hand lingering on his for longer than necessary. Images of his hands caressing her body flitted through her mind, making her blush. Moving very slowly so she didn’t wake him she made her way to the side of the bed so she could relieve herself. Fully expecting her foot to hit the cold floor, she almost screamed when it hit something completely different. She yanked her foot back up and leaned over the side of the bed.

  Lying beside the bed on the floor was a man and not just any man; he was massive, and quite lovely. Long golden hair fanned out across the fur he was on, his massive chest lifting up and down with his even breathing. One muscled arm was raised above his head. He was sound asleep.

  Biting her lip she wasn’t sure what to do. Why was he on the floor? It was strange that he was even in the room. She didn’t know why he was there but she would have to worry about that later. Now she needed to relieve herself and then find some water. She was really thirsty.

  Changing tactics she crawled to the bottom of the bed, her gown clinging to her body. A gust of cool air blew into the room making her shiver once more. Why was it so cold? Her teeth started to chatter. Clenching her jaw shut, she tried to stop her teeth from clicking and turned to climb off the bottom of the bed. Once she saw who was on the floor she almost groaned out loud.

  What in the hell was he doing in here? She rolled her eyes, taking a breath. The little trouble maker was lying on the floor at the base of the bed. His tiny ribcage jutted up from his body covered by a worn tunic. He had one of his bird legs bent at the knee and the other kicked out to the side. His long greasy black hair fell over his forehead, his face deathly white, and smudged with filth. Normally she would have felt sorry for him, but she remembered all too clearly the way he yelled she was a witch the first time she had traveled to this place.

  Well there was nothing to be done about him now. She would just have to climb over him. Pulling her legs around in front of her she moved onto the trunk. It was hard though, her legs felt like they were asleep.

  Still she somehow managed it. With one foot lifted up in the air she tried to straddle him. Of course that was the exact moment the boy decided to turn. Arms flailing she lost of balance and landed right on top of him and his bird body made a horrible cracking sound.

  “Oh God,” she moaned, feeling horrible.

  “Ahhh,” he screamed, sounding like she was killing him. She had to admit, it did sound like she may have broken one of his tiny bones, so maybe he wasn’t too far off the mark. His body bucked under her weight trying to dislodge her.

  “Shush…sorry…shush…” she whispered, trying to calm him, but he was having none of it. Instead he screamed even louder.

  “My eyes…oh no…. I can’t see! She stole me eyes!” he hollered loudly, crying out like she stuck daggers into his eyes.

  Marguerite felt bad at first, truly, she did, and she was trying to be gentle but he was having none of that. “Shush,” she whispered, trying to grab his hands, but somehow he managed to shove them in her hair and was now yanking it back and forth.

  “Ow! Stop you little heathen! I am not trying to hurt you!” she gritted, clasping his arms with her hands. “Let go…”

  Milford made a choking sound. “I cannot breathe…” he gurgled.

  Marguerite lessened her hold on him only to have him grab more of her hair and tug hard. “Ow you little wretch. That hurts!” She wrestled with him, fighting back in earnest and then did the only thing she could think of. She pinched the underside of his arm.

  “Ow Nooo!” he cried, making more gurgling sounds.

  She had to wonder if he was really in pain or just using it as a diversionary tactic to yank more of her hair from her head.

  “HELP… ME!” he sputtered, coughing and yanking on more of her hair.

  If he didn’t stop she woul
d be bald. “Leme…go!”

  Darias shot up from the bed, looking about the room like a lunatic, his dagger in hand. He froze when he saw where the commotion was coming from. His heart leapt at the sight. She was awake. Thank God.

  Jayce rubbed his eyes. “What in the bloody hell is all the yelling about?” he complained and tried to focus his eyes.

  In seconds Darias was across the room with his hands held tightly to Marguerite. “Milford let her go…NOW,” he warned and pulled her back towards his body.

  Milford heard the warning in his lieges’ voice and froze, still firmly holding clumps of hair in his hands.

  “I said, release her…NOW!”

  Milford unclenched his fists immediately, releasing her hair.

  Jayce yawned loudly and stood finally. He had to rub his eyes twice. Yes, he was seeing exactly what he thought he was seeing. The girl who was unconscious before was now awake and had poor Milford’s form flattened under her own. Jayce would have laughed at the ridiculous sight but Darias’ sharp words stopped him.

  “Jayce, grab his hands,” Darias ordered and gave his brother an angry glare.

  Jayce frowned and took his time, not liking his brother’s tone. It was already bad enough he was sleeping on the damn floor when he should have been bedded down with any number of the toothsome wenches in the keep. But no, he had to babysit his damn brother, since he was acting so strange. It was as though someone had bewitched him. Watching now, the way Darias tenderly held the girl in his arms Jayce could plainly see who had bewitched his brother.

  “Jayce…” Darias shot him a look of warning.

  Reluctantly, Jayce walked to the bottom of the bed, reached out to grab Milford’s hands, and tried to dislodge them from the girl’s hair. “Milford, lad, it is all right,” he tried to assure him.

  Gaitland ran to the doorway and skidded to a halt. His eyes widened taking in the scene in the room. Darias was at one end of the bed, with the girl in his arms. Jayce was at the other end of the bed trying to dislodge Milford’s hands from the girl’s hair. Well at least she was awake, that was something. He watched from the doorway and then felt another presence behind him. He looked around to find Morrigan, her wild red hair sticking out from her head. Her amber eyes glinted in the dim light, making him shiver. She stood on her toes trying to see past him. He stepped to the side, blocking her view entirely.

  “What is happening?” she asked, her fingers gripping his tunic.

  Gaitland lifted his brow, looking down at her hand.

  Morrigan released him, and stepped back. “Does he need me?”

  Gaitland didn’t need to ask who he was. “No, I think it is under control. You may go back to bed.”

  “I think I should go help,” she argued, trying to push past him.

  Gaitland blocked her. “Oh, I think you have done enough, don’t you?” he questioned, giving her a challenging look.

  Morrigan pressed her shoulders back, standing taller. “I am sure I know not to what you speak,” she added in a sweet voice. “I am only trying to be of assistance.”

  “I am sure he can manage without your kind of assistance from now on,” Gaitland challenged.

  Morrigan backed up a step. “Well, if you think it is best, I shall be on my way then,” she added, trying to look contrite…play it up a bit.

  Gaitland gave her another assessing glare. “Yes, I do.” Gaitland gave her another assessing glare. “I think it is best if you stay as far away as possible, don’t you?”

  Morrigan’s eyes widened with feigned innocence. “I was only trying to help.”

  “Of course you were.” Gaitland lifted his brow at her, not believing a word of her lies. “Go to bed,” he commanded.

  Morrigan shrugged meekly and began to move backward down the corridor.

  Gaitland turned back around.

  Morrigan narrowed her eyes at Gaitland. She wished she had a dagger to stick in his loathsome back. Now was not the time, nor place for revenge. It was best not to challenge Gaitland right now, for he was a hard one to read. His words were not lost on her, though: bastard. No, she would get her just due when the timing was right. When he least expected it. He knew not who he was insulting. “That’s a promise,” she whispered under her breath.

  Gaitland continued to stand blocking the doorway from any view. A shiver ran up his spine. He had a terrible feeling—it was as if someone had just danced across his grave.

  Morrigan slid further back down the corridor. She was not happy. Not one bit. But her hands were tied, for now. She also had a sinking suspicion whose fault it was the girl was now awake …Damn Merlin. He would get his too… she promised and then finally slipped back into the shadows.

  What was the World coming to?

  RAVENHURST * PRESENT DAY

  ONCE dinner was over Reed couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. Now he was in the library staring into the flames of the fire. A crystal snifter of brandy was held firmly in his hand, the amber liquid sloshing in the bottom. Another peel of laughter sounded through the corridor. He cringed. “What in the hell was so funny?” he grumbled to himself. “Oh Lucian you are so funny,” he mimicked Raven, her laughter grating on his nerves. Damn, could she be any louder? He frowned again into the flames, his ire rising.

  Of course, Lucian and Raven didn’t even bat an eye at him when he left. No, they were too busy gawking at one another, like….well… he didn’t know what, but he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  This was his home, at least for the time being. Lucian had given up any say in the matter a long time ago. Oh, he spent the money; so much of the money on God only knew what. When Reed had asked him about pitching in for the upkeep of Ravenhurst, Lucian had held his hands akimbo, shrugging, and saying, “You’re the oldest. This is your legacy, not mine.”

  Reed tried to get him to stay on, but Lucian was having none of it. So Reed had stayed, bringing Ravenhurst back to its former glory. Well, almost. Upkeep took a lot of money. A lot of Reed’s money. Now he was close to being bankrupt. Of course, he still received all of Lucian’s bills. He looked at them now, stacked on his desk.

  So what in the hell did he want now? Not Ravenhurst. Lucian had washed his hands of it a long time ago.

  Reed rubbed his brow. His head was starting to pound. There were too many unanswered questions swirling in his mind. He had intended to go out this evening, but now with his brother in residence he decided to stay in to keep an eye on him. He didn’t trust him… something was up. He just didn’t know what…at least that is what he tried to reason his excuse was for returning. It may have been the simple fact he didn’t want to leave his brother alone with Raven. He ran his free hand through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. His shoulders slumped. He was tired. He glanced at the clock. It was only ten. He felt old suddenly. God, when did he turn into the old one, the responsible one? And why in the hell was Lucian now at Ravenhurst? It wasn’t as though he had visited since, well… forever. It was so unlike Lucian to show up unannounced, and with so many of his possessions in tow, too. It just didn’t add up. Not one bit.

  Reed would get to the bottom of it. Whatever it was… that simple fact he knew for a certainty.

  ***

  Raven bit back another yawn. She was still in the dining room with Lucian, Reed’s brother. Turns out, they were twins. But the more she looked at Lucian she noticed distinct differences between the two. She sat at the end of the table, her chin resting in the palm of her hand as Lucian continued to talk. She forced herself to stay focused and not nod off. He had a pleasant voice but it was not nearly as warm and seductive as Reed’s was. She had no idea where Reed went, and with him gone from sight she had a hard time staying focused. Oh, it had been easy pretending to be interested while Reed made faces at the end of the table…but now that he had left the room…well…she could hardly keep her eyes open. Besides the fact Lucian had poured her innumerable glasses of wine which she had drank steadily while he droned on with yet another fantastical tale o
f his travels. Of course, he had asked her a few questions about herself, but it was mostly a one sided conversation. She watched as he lifted his hand to his hair once more, running his fingers through it. He had nice hair, but when she had first seen him do it she thought it was an endearing gesture, now it looked like he was enjoying fingering his own hair a little too much. Not like Reed. Reed pushed at his hair in aggravation, and it was sexy. Raven shook herself, what the hell was her problem. There was a gorgeous guy right in front of her and all she could think about was his ill-tempered brother. Apparently, there was just no pleasing her.

  *REED

  It was quarter till one in the morning when Reed finally heard Raven and Lucian stumbling up the stairs, laughing loudly.

  “Good lord, could they be any louder,” he mumbled angrily, rubbing his hands over his face. He stepped forward and pressed his ear to the door, listening. He wanted to make sure they went to their separate rooms. Of course, he shouldn’t care; his ass shouldn’t even be awake. But there it was, plain as day. He had resorted to eavesdropping. He was pathetic.

  He stripped out of his clothes and climbed into bed but sleep eluded him. He kept envisioning Raven draped over Lucian. He didn’t find sleep until the wee hours of the morning, when the sun was already rising in the sky and the birds were chirping merrily with one another. He shoved a pillow over his head to block out the noise; finally, he fell into a restless slumber.

  *RAVEN

  Once safely back in her room, Raven stumbled into the bathroom. Her reflection kept moving in the mirror as she looked at her face, trying to remove her makeup. Her jar of Vaseline fell from the sink and skidded across the white tiles. She turned to chase after it but had to hold the sink to keep from falling over.

  Damn!

  How much did she drink? She gave up on finding the jar and simply took a gob of cream and spread it on her face.

  She squinted down at the jar. “Oh shit,” —she probably had fifty dollars’ worth of cream on her face. She wiped most of it off and scraped it back into the jar, not wanting to waste it. La Mer was one of her splurge purchases, an expensive one. She intended to go lightly with it, to make it last longer. Grabbing up a small linen towel, she turned on the faucet and within seconds hot water poured into the pedestal sink, steam clouding the mirror. She dipped the cloth in and wet it good, then placed it on her face. She ripped it right back off…