Tender (The Trelawneys of Williamsburg Time Travel Romance Book 1) by Anne Meredith

Author:Anne Meredith [Meredith, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

The pale fragrance of agapanthus and nerines, transplanted from their native Africa, welcomed Rachel to the gardens. She strolled past, drawn by the aroma of the river, and sat on a white iron love seat concealed in a circle of ancient oaks, watching the moon overhead. The man’s face shone tonight, and his somber, hollow stare intensified her sorrow. In her time, all would be the same; the river, the oaks, the moon. Yet all she loved would be gone. Her old life was now meaningless; the events of her tattered memory held no connection, the man who’d raised her had become her enemy.

Now, all she loved was in this time. The family she’d once loved, who’d once loved her, were gone—lost for all time, just as their memories were. But here, in another past, in a world that had never held interest for her, there lived a child she loved. There lived her truest, dearest friend. There lived the man she loved.

And his wife.

The cry of a bird echoed over the river. Despite his unconscionable failings, she saw only the devotion of a man loving a baby who otherwise would’ve known a more bitter rejection than the one he’d known. And within Emily he’d nurtured the memories of a father who loved her.

“You left my table without my leave.”

She closed her eyes against the soft persuasiveness in the unexpected voice behind her. “I apologize.”

Grey walked silently around the love seat and leaned against a tree, toying with his pocket watch. A brooding discontent blanketed his face as he remarked, “I find that dissatisfies me. Is it not customary to offer something more between friends?”

Emptily, she asked, “For instance?”

She tried to ignore the excited thrum of her heart as he came closer, then dropped to one knee beside her. He knelt so near she saw the moon’s glow in his clear eyes and on his smileless lips. “A kiss.”

“No.”

“’Tis the custom … in farewells. Or a handshake.”

“Fine.”

Grey covered her hand with his. “You’re cold.”

She tried to pull away, but he held her fast. Slowly, inexorably, he guided her hand up to rest against his cheek, and she feared he saw the unhappiness in her eyes. He pressed his lips into the softness of her palm, inhaling contentedly. Raising his head, he gave her a look of regret and longing.

“And—a soft kiss on the cheek?”

Though she tried not to, Rachel heard the soft huskiness of his voice, caught the faint masculine scent of him as he leaned near. He was married to another woman; morally destitute; reprehensibly manipulative. And he loved his daughter. Could that love cover his multitude of sins?

Dark, gentle fingers brushed her chin, and the moonlight filtered through the leaves of the oak and glinted in his black hair as his lips grazed her cheekbone. Then she saw the desire in his gaze, in his expectantly parted lips. He was going to kiss her, and the thought raised excitement in her—and fear.

“What—do you want of me, Grey?”

A contented breath escaped him as his eyes, glittering and troubled, searched hers.

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