Belmary House 4

  Table of Contents

  Belmary House Book Four

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Belmary House

  Book Four

  by Cassidy Cayman

  More books by Cassidy Cayman

  Lost Highlander

  Reunited

  Revenge

  Sam and Evie

  Reckoning

  Smitten by the Spinster

  Wild about the Witch

  All for the Heiress

  Belmary House Book One

  Belmary House Book Two

  Belmary House Book Three

  Valhalla Cupcakes

  Don’t miss a new release! Be sure to sign up for the mailing list!

  Visit online at CassidyCayman.com

  Belmary House Book Four

  A foolish experiment leads Tilly on a rocky trip through time, and the house seems determined not to let her get back to Ashford. Now she’s not only stuck in a series of wrong times, so is Ashford’s assistant Thomas, who was sent through to look for her. Her guilt over reopening the portal and sadness from losing Ashford threaten to overwhelm her as she struggles to keep going, all the while terrified she’ll never see any of her loved ones again.

  Try as he might to find where and when Tilly ended up, Ashford can’t make any headway with the portal. He turns to his family’s ancient grimoire to help him locate her, despite the fact that it could have dangerous, possibly life-threatening consequences.

  Meanwhile, a pregnant Serena is finding out for herself just how dangerous the old book is, keeping her late night reading a secret from her husband Kostya, who’s been keeping his own secrets from her.

  Chapter 1

  Matilda Jacobs fell forward onto the worn wooden floor, the pain of impact thrumming up her wrists. It didn’t matter. She had managed to make it through. The relief that she hadn’t broken the portal and trapped herself in the seventeenth century rushed over her, quickly replaced by fear of when she might have ended up. She’d just spent the past three weeks in a terrified chase across the centuries, trying to get home.

  Home. Where exactly was that, anyway? Or in her case, when? She wasn’t sure anymore, but she knew she couldn’t stay crouching on the floor with her eyes squeezed shut, not if she’d ended up in a time as unwelcoming as the one she’d finally managed to escape.

  She pushed herself back onto her heels and had to clap her hand over her mouth at the sound of joy that squeaked out of her when she caught sight of an electrical outlet on the smoothly papered walls. If she had caused irreparable damage to the portal and wasn’t home, at least she’d be stuck in an era that had sweet, sweet electricity.

  “Furniture,” she muttered, sweeping her gaze around the room.

  It was meticulously and luxuriously furnished, nothing like the sparse wood frame bed and creaky wardrobe she’d spent the last few days hiding under and in whenever she heard footsteps outside the room, all the while praying the portal would reopen and accept her. The fact that she was any time except 1644 was already a positive, but it hadn’t been this nicely furnished when she originally left with Ashford.

  Hmph, left with Ashford was a forgiving way of putting it, as he’d all but abducted her to 1814 the first time. After he’d mistaken her for someone else, she’d been stuck with him for three months, but soon fell in love with not only him, but almost everything about his time, and only wanted to stay. That seemed so long ago now.

  Ashford’s stern face and silver grey eyes filled her memory and she gripped her knees until her knuckles whitened to push away the longing she felt. He was in her past, both figuratively and literally, since the electrical socket was a dead giveaway that she’d gone forward this time instead of backwards.

  She scooted around to the far side of the bed, away from the closed door, all the while keeping as low to the floor as she could, hampered by her now filthy Regency era clothes. The room had been sparsely furnished when she first left, but Dex and Emma had succeeded in their efforts to get the place restored, and since they’d been promised the curse was lifted and the portal was closed for good, they probably would have gone ahead and decorated it.

  Yes, she was going to go with that theory, because it kept her from crying at the thought of yet another failure to get back. It had been so long she hardly remembered why she’d left. All she knew at the moment was that she was exhausted, and starving, and as much as she hated to admit it, scared to death and beginning to be riddled with regret.

  She should be chattering merrily in some daft sitting room, endlessly gossiping with other ladies of the ton and getting soggy from all the tea she drank, not cowering under yet another bed in this same godforsaken room, wondering what year it was.

  But being a lady of the ton wasn’t all she’d imagined it would be, or rather it was, she’d just grown bored of it, something she never could have fathomed in all her years of watching period dramas. She wondered if Ashford missed her at all. It had been quite a row they’d had. She remembered him bellowing at her, actually bellowing, that no wife of his could behave in such a manner as she wanted to. It was then that she decided that perhaps she wouldn’t be his wife after all.

  Oh, damn. A tear slid off the tip of her nose and landed on her sooty, grimy hand. She couldn’t wipe her face as there wasn’t one clean thing on her. She just let the tear roll down, not caring anymore about one more streak.

  The electrical outlet reminded her that whatever time she was in, it surely had to include running water, and the thought of a steaming hot shower got her to poke her head above the line of the bed to further inspect her situation. That and the thought of a grilled cheese sandwich. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten something that wasn’t scavenged and half moldy, and her empty stomach propelled her the rest of the way to the door. Whatever happened, whatever time she was in now, she was going to get out of this house, find a way to explain her appearance, and get some food.

  At the same time she realized the bedroom door was firmly bolted shut from the outside, a whirring sound and short series of beeps made her look above the door frame. A camera mounted in the corner moved in her direction, its red light blinking. She instinctively backed away to try to get out of its range when a recorded voice sprang to life and echoed through the room.

  “Please do not be alarmed. You are not in any danger. Someone will be with you as soon as possible.”

  She ran to the windows, thinking a second story fall wouldn’t kill her, only to find they were nailed closed. The calm, droning message repeated itself three more times as she burrowed back into her hiding spot by the bed. What in the hell had happened to Belmary House?

  She tried to tell herself that nothing could be worse than when she’d just come from, but no matter what the recording said, she was most definitely alarmed.

  Chapter 2

  Julian, 2nd Earl of Ashford and Happenham, stared mournfully at the corner of the bedroom before turning a
nd punching the wall. He consulted his tattered notebook for the hundredth time and swore. It was supposed to open nearly five minutes ago. He hadn’t heard anything from his assistant Thomas in almost two weeks, when he’d managed to return to 1814 after being in three times he wasn’t supposed to end up. At least not according to the information he’d carefully gathered over the last fifteen years of using this accursed portal. All of which now seemed completely inaccurate, which made it useless, which in turn gave Ashford the hopeless feeling he now tried not to get lost in.

  He’d set up camp in the room, afraid to leave it now that he was certain it no longer operated on any schedule he was aware of. It could open at any time, bring home Thomas or his Matilda, and he wanted to be there to either wring information from him or wrap her in an apologetic embrace and beg her never to leave him again.

  It took all his willpower not to jump in and go after her when it opened. He knew it was foolish to go in blind, he’d only be making things worse, possibly end up lost himself. He and Thomas agreed it was best he stay put and wait. The waiting was making him go mad, worrying ceaselessly that Matilda hadn’t ended up in her own time, worrying that she had but he’d never see her again, terrified he’d never get to set things right with her.

  On top of all that he was expecting house guests. It couldn’t be a worse time for his brother-in-law Kostya and his new bride to visit, especially with Serena in her condition and Kostya only recently returned to the farm after his long imprisonment with his family. Ashford shuddered at the memories of fighting Kostya’s evil grandmother, and his heart clenched at the thought of how his Matilda had given him the strength he needed to battle her, and how she’d ended up saving them all with her bravery.

  He’d been a fool to drive her away with his pigheadedness. He knew she was from a different time, reared differently from the ladies he was accustomed to being around. It was the very thing he loved about her, her independence and free-thinking ways. They’d barely been back a month from their harrowing journey to rescue Kostya and he’d already managed to drive her away. He sunk down onto the normally unused bed and let himself, just for a moment, remember better times with her.

  A tentative knock on the door brought him back to his bleak present, and he shook off his sour mood. He couldn’t let himself think he’d never see her again. Now that he knew what life with Matilda was, he couldn’t see any other for himself.

  “Lord Ashford, the Povests have arrived, sir.”

  “I’ll be down, thank you, Gladys.”

  He straightened his waistcoat and stiffened his spine. Serena was going to give him hell for losing Matilda, and he had no defense for himself. He’d have to stand and take it.

  He found them in the main hall, surrounded by what seemed like a dozen small yapping dogs while the staff carried in their bags. Merciful heavens, but how long did they plan to stay? He waded through the dogs, his boots getting scuffed as they crowded all over him, nipping at his heels as if he was the interloper.

  Serena threw her arms around him and he held her away to inspect her. She looked tired, but as radiantly beautiful as ever. Her eyes narrowed the moment he met them, she already knew something was wrong. Kostya clapped him on the back, looking much more fit than the last time he’d seen him, heading home from Moldavia. Now that Ashford’s sister Camilla was gone, he supposed Kostya was no longer his brother-in-law, but while they weren’t related by marriage anymore, they’d known each other since childhood and were as close as any brothers. Ashford was glad Kostya had been able to find love with their Scottish neighbor Serena, his other closest friend from his youth.

  “What’s with the hellhounds?” he asked as one of the little fiends tried to climb his leg, unable to properly bite him through his boot.

  “They’re Serena’s,” Kostya said with a grimace.

  “They’re ours, dear,” she corrected, patting her slightly rounded belly and stretching her back. “You’ve met them before, Julian.”

  “Have I? I must have blocked it out.”

  She pointed to each dog and said a name, which he immediately forgot, but it turned out there were only four of them, not an entire legion as he’d first thought. They moved fast and would not shut up. He hated them instantly.

  “Tilly will love them,” Serena said, scooping one of the small monsters into her arms and letting it lick her face. “That’s why I brought them.”

  “It’s not why she brought them,” Kostya said resignedly. “She can’t live without the wee mongrels.”

  “Where is Tilly?” Serena asked, ignoring the jibe. “I’ve got so much to tell her, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay awake much longer.” Once again she rubbed her belly and Ashford hurried them into a sitting room, where refreshments soon appeared. He held onto his teacup, wishing it had a solid slug of whisky in it, and blurted out his story.

  “She’s angry at me and pulled a runner,” he said. “I think she tried to go back to her own time.”

  “You’ve got to go after her,” Kostya said reasonably, and Ashford set down his cup to keep from crushing it. As if he hadn’t already thought of that, tried it.

  “The portal’s all sideways, I don’t know exactly when she’s ended up,” he explained, loath to admit the real truth of it. Finally with a sigh, he stood and got the whisky bottle from the sideboard. Matilda’s absence had finally driven him to drink. He poured himself a healthy serving, feeling ashamed when Kostya shook his head at the offer to join him. He’d drink alone, then.

  “And I can’t do the spell,” he admitted at last, draining the glass in one go. “It was that nutter, Liam Wodge who got us back here, and he’s in the future still, gadding about with Matilda’s grandmother. I’ve no way to reach him.”

  “Oh, Julian,” Serena said, her eyes filling with tears. She took one of the ragamuffin hounds off her lap and plopped it onto his. “Pet Felix, he’s lovely for soothing away cares.”

  The creature looked at him with its smashed, snuffling little face and shrugged its shaggy shoulders before settling back to sleep, not caring what lap it was on as long as it was warm. He felt a tug of heartbreak, thinking Matilda actually would have loved the foul things, she loved all animals so, and especially ugly ones. It hurt him to think how ugly he must have been to her to drive her off.

  Serena took his hand and placed it on Felix’s rough flank. It wasn’t even soft, but the steady rise and fall of its chest did have an odd calming effect. He kept his hand where Serena had placed it and felt very close to tears.

  “How on earth did she manage to open the portal?” Kostya asked. “I thought Liam was quite strong. Surely his spell to close it couldn’t have been broken that easily?”

  “I didn’t think it at all possible either,” he said. “But there must have been something in the book. And of course I didn’t think she’d ever get so angry at me as to try such a thing. At worst I thought she might have headed up to you or gone to the Happenham estate when we first began the argument. Amazingly enough, she gets along swimmingly with Aunt Lydia over at Happenham.”

  “Wait a second,” Kostya said, looking like he might need a drink after all. “You let her look at the book? Your family’s book that has hundreds of dangerous spells in it? The one Camilla risked everything to try and get back?” At the same time he said his late wife’s name he reached over and gripped Serena’s hand. Ashford was touched at the gesture even as he winced at hearing his twin sister’s name.

  Camilla had gone mad, doing unspeakable things in the attempt to get their ancient spellbook back from the Povests, who she’d bartered it away to years before in the hopes to free Kostya from a lifelong curse. The Povests had lied, Kostya was never freed, and Camilla lost everything because of it, harming countless people as she’d tried to get the book back in a misguided effort to make things right.

  “What’s this about a dangerous spellbook?” Serena asked, her face darkening.

  Ashford had finally spilled the beans about his house here in
London having an age-old curse on it, causing a strange time travel portal to open and shut at its whim, and he felt she’d taken it rather well. She’d only also recently learned that Kostya and he both came from long lines of powerful witches, and while she’d kept a stiff upper lip at the news, Ashford could tell it still didn’t set well with her. He watched as she placed her hand firmly on her belly, as if she could protect her unborn child from such things.

  “It’s from my mother’s side,” Ashford told her. “It was my father’s side that cursed the house— my mother’s people were much more benign. It’s mostly gardening and love hexes, or so I thought. I certainly didn’t expect she’d be able to tinker with the portal.”

  Kostya swore, shocking them both, even waking up Felix, who jumped off Ashford’s lap and back onto Serena’s. He found to his dismay he missed the small warm lump.

  “Damn it, Ashford, have you never looked at your own family’s legacy? You just let Tilly, a lay person from another time, with no experience whatsoever and the rawest possible talents in magic, look at it?” He swore some more and Ashford felt suddenly stupid. “It’s more than just gardening and love hexes as you say, and perhaps your mum and grandmother were kind souls, but I assure you, some of those old spells in that book are dangerous. Dangerous,” he repeated, making Ashford feel even smaller than he had before they arrived.

  “Kostya, dearest, calm down,” Serena said, patting him soothingly. “It’s not all Julian’s fault. After all, you know Tilly as well as I do. I doubt he could have kept her from the book if she really wanted to look at it.”

  He snorted. “That’s where you’re wrong, darling. He most certainly could have kept her from it. Only someone blood related to him can touch it, unless of course they’re given permission.”

  Serena frowned, clearly sad she could no longer defend Ashford, and she shook her head at him before brightening. “That can’t be true. You mean that big old book you brought home from Moldavia? I saw you packing it up to send off to Ashford when you first returned.”