Belmary House 5 Page 10

  The twins looked outraged that the littlest one got to leave the room. “Why him? We’re oldest,” they cried in unison.

  “I’ve already given my reason,” she said, staring at them until they looked down. Nathan ran from the room, sticking out his tongue at his older brothers as he did.

  “I saw it,” Ariana sighed before the two ten-year-olds could complain. “I’ll make him pay, don’t worry.”

  They laughed evilly amongst themselves and for a second Ariana looked fond of them. If he lived to be a hundred, Owen would never understand sibling relationships. The two boys forgot about their brother and put each other in a headlock, wrestling their way around the furniture.

  Ariana took a deep breath, but instead of yelling at them to be careful, she merely hurried ahead of them to yank a lamp to safety. She wasn’t quick enough with a vase, and it went crashing to the floor along with the boys. Christian yowled and clutched his head, while Grayson scampered out of the way of Ariana’s slap.

  “Look what you’ve done, you savages,” she said, holding up a piece of the vase. “Oh bother.”

  She peeled away Christian’s hand to see a bump with a cut in the middle of it on his forehead. Blood oozed down the side of his face. She hissed in sympathy at the same time she called him a clumsy fool.

  “It hurts,” he said, trying to hold back tears. “And my vision is all blurry.”

  “Must have caught the corner of the table on your way down,” she muttered. “Hold still, I’ll fix it.”

  She gave Owen a look and put her hands on either side of Christian’s cheeks. She scrunched up her eyes and he realized with a jolt she was doing a spell. He glanced at Grayson, who was scrambling to pick up the broken vase pieces and thankfully not paying Ariana any mind.

  A moment later the goose egg sized bump shrank back into Christian’s forehead and the cut folded in on itself until it disappeared. Ariana whisked away the blood with a flick of her fingers. It only took a split second but it made Owen feel queasy to watch.

  He recalled all those years ago when she put her hands on his face in much the same way and the pain from the time travel spell dissipated. Before he could say anything, she swiped the porcelain shards away from Grayson and the vase was whole again as well.

  “What just happened in here, you two rabble rousers?” she asked, giving Owen a smug look.

  They blinked and looked at their feet, looked at the ceiling. “Did I fall down?” Christian asked.

  “Yes, and you very nearly broke this vase. So be careful. Go sit in the corner, in fact.”

  They did as she ordered and she replaced the vase, straightening out the end table they knocked into.

  “Was that wise?” Owen asked.

  “Well, I couldn’t let him bleed to death, could I? They won’t remember what happened.”

  “But the vase, too. Impressive.” He nodded appreciatively. “And you said you were no good at the “mind spells” as you call them.”

  “I’m no good at them with people who actually have minds,” she said with a scoff at her brothers.

  “I thought you once told me you worried it would do permanent damage.”

  He didn’t know why he couldn’t let it go. Perhaps his own guilty conscience wanted to be eased.

  She frowned. “I hardly ever do it. Really never, actually. But did you see that welt? Mum would have killed me for letting him get hurt.”

  “Ah, you just hated seeing him cry. Still, good show. I had no idea you were so good with the healing spells.”

  She rolled her eyes but seemed pleased with the compliment. The butler announced the arrival of Miss Maria and her smile faded back into a sour look. Owen felt a twinge of guilt but it was gone the moment Maria came through the door, nodding a greeting at Ariana and smiling radiantly at him.

  The twins rushed forward to greet Maria, bowing and asking how her older brother was, whom they idolized for making a reputation for himself in the gentleman’s boxing clubs.

  “Don’t get your sticky paws all over her, you wild field mice,” Ariana berated, causing their cheeks to turn red with embarrassment.

  Owen felt sorry for them, remembering what it was like to want to be seen as a man, only to be treated like a boy. Feeling somehow like he was further betraying Ariana, he ruffled their heads and gave them a secret smile.

  “Oh, they aren’t sticky at all,” Maria said.

  She had confided in him that she adored children. Being the youngest of four, she couldn’t wait for her older brothers and sisters to start having babies so she could spoil them rotten. It had given him a thrill, wondering if she was subtly trying to suss out if he wanted to have children. Which he never once thought about before he met her, but if she wanted a dozen, he decided that would be fine.

  Just then Nathan returned with one of his mother’s dogs under each arm and the room exploded with noise as they yapped and sniffed their new surroundings. He thought the dogs would put Ariana in a better mood, because she still loved wee animals above all else. Instead of falling to the floor to roll around with them like her brothers already were, she sighed deeply.

  “I’m sorry, Maria, but I’m in charge of all of these creatures until my mother gets home.”

  “Oh my, is Farrah unwell?” Maria asked, making his heart swell that she remembered the governess’ name and cared about her welfare.

  Ariana would have said it was common human decency to remember people’s names, but he knew from just the three weeks he’d been there how uncommon it really was amongst the ton. He beamed at her, barely listening while Ariana explained about Farrah’s stomach upset, then complained some more about the boys.

  Instead of sniffing disdainfully and asking why another servant couldn’t watch them, Maria said, “Oh, I’ll be your governess for the afternoon, you dear, sweet lads. You can be the schoolmaster, Owen. Doesn’t that sound like a lovely game?” She seemed to remember Ariana, who stared at them so coldly, Owen wondered why they hadn’t been turned to ice. “Ariana, would you like to be the nurse?”

  “Be the nurse, Riri,” Nathan shouted, grabbing his elbow theatrically. “I’ve hurt my arm, ow. It must be looked after!”

  To Owen’s surprise, Ariana looked like she might cry. She blinked a few times and shook her head, sending her loose curls flying behind her shoulder.

  “If you two are so delighted with babysitting duties, then I’ll leave you to it,” she said. “You’d better do as they say,” she hissed at her brothers. “And if you tell mother I left, you won’t sit comfortably for a good long time.”

  With that she got up, slammed her sewing basket to the floor, and flounced from the room. Maria looked confused, and worse, like she shouldn’t be alone with him. Owen cursed Ariana for making such a scene.

  “Let’s get Cook and play in the garden, shall we?” he asked, trying not to sound strangled.

  Maria relaxed at once and the boys were elated to get to go outside. He followed, not certain how he felt.

  Chapter 15

  Ariana stormed to her room, angry enough to spit. Angry with whom? She didn’t know. No, she did. It was herself she was angry with, for acting such a bad-tempered brat.

  Maria was her best friend and Owen was unequivocally her favorite person in the world, so why did they always seem to put her in a rotten mood? She crawled halfway under her bed and hauled out the book. Even its worn cover didn’t make her feel any better.

  It was much more fun when they were together, her and Owen. Maria was deadweight, and now that Owen fancied himself in love with her, he was almost as useless.

  Disgusted with herself for thinking such thoughts, she put the book into the bag she made for it and that Owen had hexed to make anyone besides them see it as a bag of knitting.

  Before her mind could tell her she was making a mistake, she raced to the bedroom she was positive held the elusive portal to different times. It was always locked, which was the first tip-off. When she asked one of the maids when it was last cleaned
, she looked completely confused, repeatedly asking ‘which bedroom, miss?’ as if she had no idea it existed. Ariana was certain someone had hexed it to make people overlook it.

  One of Owen’s specialties, she thought with a huff, wishing he was with her now.

  Either to stop her from what she was about to do or gleefully go along with her. She wouldn’t have minded either outcome, so long as they were a team again.

  “Bother,” she muttered as she finagled the lock open, half with a hairpin and half with magic. “Aren’t you the one who said he should marry an English girl?”

  She made a rude noise of discontent and slipped into the bedroom. Barely furnished. It had to be the room. She should have waited for Owen. She promised, after all. They got sidetracked with wanting to learn scrying, and then he went muddleheaded over Maria. She shouldn’t have to feel guilty for leaving him out. Hadn’t he left her out all the times she caught him giggling quietly with Maria, their heads practically touching?

  When she figured out how to open the portal, he’d find her fascinating again, only have eyes and ears for her. She pinched herself hard, knowing she needed to concentrate or something awful might happen. Her petty, infantile jealousy had to be put aside.

  “Am I jealous?” she asked. “But why would I be?”

  Neither the empty room nor the book deigned to answer. With a shrug, she turned to the first marked page, the one her mother had used before she was born and that had seemingly caused a great deal of trouble. Between that one, the painful one, and one that involved rare herbs, she managed to cobble together a homemade hex she felt extremely confident would work to perfection. She was hopeful, anyway.

  Everything in her told her to wait. Wait until her mother returned. She was responsible for the boys, and while Owen and Maria were perfectly capable, she’d be skinned if she couldn’t make it back in time to pretend she was helping all along. And she wanted to see her mother. She was in such a hurry that morning, she barely said goodbye. What if she never saw her again?

  “All things you can go over and over,” she once again muttered to the empty room. “So, either try or give up.”

  This time the book did seem to answer her, or at least she imagined it did. As it sometimes did, it had ended up on a completely different page than where she left it. Now it was open to a sappy, flowery success incantation. It was basically a bad poem full of encouraging words.

  Since she’d been talking to herself for several minutes already, she didn’t feel too embarrassed to read it aloud. Then she set to work.

  ***

  Ariana sat up, a stabbing pain in her head making her slump back onto her side. It was markedly darker in the off-limits bedroom. She must have fainted after trying the spell and been out for some time.

  Her mother and Aunt Serena would have been back for ages, so she knew she was already in trouble. As horrid as she acted, she didn’t expect Owen to cover for her, either. She decided it couldn’t go much worse for her if she waited for the headache to subside before going down and facing them. Maybe she could think of a believable story for her hours long disappearance.

  As she lay on her side, blinking slowly at the waning light coming through the slight opening in the curtains, she realized the curtains were different. She wasn’t wrong, she was sure of it. There had been so few furnishings in the room, she definitely noticed the bland cream colored curtains. These curtains were gray with wine colored designs embroidered on them. Kind of gaudy.

  Her heart nearly stopped and the shock of it dispelled the last of the headache. Had her spell worked? Fear and exhilaration swept her to her feet and she turned, taking in the whole of the room. Yes, the bed was different, along with the bedclothes. There was a painting that hadn’t been there before. The simple chest of drawers was gone, replaced by a tall wardrobe. She was in a different time, or had invented a spell that redecorated rooms.

  As giddy as she felt, she had never regretted leaving Owen out of something more than she did now. If she was truly in a different time, what in blazes was she supposed to do next?

  She laughed nervously, knowing he wouldn’t have any answers either. In fact, he’d probably be falling apart and begging to return home as soon as possible, sick from being away from his beloved Maria. But even that would have been more comforting than being alone.

  She knew she had to pluck up the courage to leave the room or try and do the spell backwards to get home. She specifically worked it so it would always return her to ten minutes after she left, so it would decrease her chances of getting in trouble should it work. Since it had worked, she didn’t see why the return trip would be any less successful. It seemed a waste not to explore a little.

  Owen was going to die! Just die when she told him. She was overcome with a deep, gut twisting guilt and thought maybe she wouldn’t tell him. She’d make him come with her the next time, pretend it was the first. That would work.

  Next, she thought of her brothers, and how she was always so mean to them. What if she didn’t make it back and that was how they remembered her? A vicious shrew who struck fear into their hearts. Was she nice to them at least half the time? She wasn’t sure and vowed to be sweeter if she ever saw their grubby faces again.

  She knew she was stalling, thinking random thoughts and staring at the door, but her courage wasn’t quite ratcheted up enough to turn the handle. It turned out she didn’t need to because, to her dismay, it was turning on its own. Before she could slide under the bed or fling herself into the wardrobe, a woman in a starched uniform peeked her head in, then smiled and nodded as if she was gratified at being right.

  “Miss Jacobs, is it you again? I thought we were done with this nonsense.” The woman dipped her head to one side, stepping further into the room and studying Ariana more closely. “Or have you not been here yet? Oh, dear, then I’ll need to explain all over again, I suppose.”

  Ariana stood frozen, finally able to shake her head. It took her a blink to remember her mother’s maiden name. Was the woman speaking of her mother? So, it was true. Her parents had been lying to her, or at least withholding the truth, her entire life.

  “I’m Ariana,” she choked out. “Ariana Alexander. Er, my father—”

  “Lord Ashford? My dearest Lord Ashford from 1814?”

  “I came from 1832,” she said. “You know my father?”

  The woman burst into tears and grabbed her into a hug. Ariana was too stunned to move.

  “Know him well, my dear. I saw him only recently. Recently to me, but years and years I suppose to him. You look so like your mother. Miss Jacobs, that is.” She leaned back to take a long look at her, then hugged her some more. “Are they no longer traveling, then? I know the last I saw your mother—”

  Ariana wriggled out of her embrace. “When was the last time you saw her?” she demanded.

  “Why, a few months ago at most. But, as you know, because of the portal, it could be years or days for them. My word, but you look just like her. Your parents weren’t yet married, but I knew they would be. So in love, those two.”

  It was all Ariana could do to keep from flying into a rage. The woman seemed nice enough so she gritted her teeth to keep from taking out her anger on her. She had so many questions she couldn’t settle on one, finally asking the most obvious.

  “What year is this?”

  “Ah, dear, it’s 1889, and my name is Mrs. Hedley. We first met your dear father a couple years back, and he tells us he’s able to visit us a few years ahead as well, but I don’t know anything about that yet.”

  She crossed herself as she casually said the words. Ariana realized no matter how much the woman loved her father and was glad to see him when he came, she still didn’t trust the means by which he did.

  Ariana’s hand almost rose to do the same as a shiver of fear that she’d somehow destroyed the natural order of things went up her spine. She shook it off, certain it was all a matter of understanding the spells.

  Her ability was a gift, same a
s being able to read at a young age. There was nothing evil about any of it. But why did her parents stop doing it? Why had they kept it from her? To Ariana, it seemed nothing short of a miracle. She was more than fifty years in the future. If she lived long enough to see this time, she’d be an ancient, frail woman, unable to enjoy it. Could she trust Mrs. Hedley?

  “Are you able to communicate with my parents?” she asked, trying to appear calm. As if this was all authorized and she would in no way be in trouble if they found out.

  Mrs. Hedley sighed deeply. “Only if they come through.” She nodded to the corner of the room. “Ah, the things your father’s told me. Each time he came through he’d be racing to save someone in another time. Your father was a hero to all the poor souls who crossed paths with that thing.” Once again she nodded to the corner, this time with a distinctly unfavorable look. “I thought he managed to close it once and for all.”

  “No, it’s still open. I’m in charge of it now,” Ariana said rashly.

  Mrs. Hedley’s eyebrows shot up, but she nodded. “I’m sure you’ll be well suited to it. And you must be well-trained if dear Lord Ashford’s entrusted it to your care.”

  Ariana caught herself before she could grunt her disgust. Well suited and well-trained, indeed. She only knew about anything because poor Owen had been plagued with nightmares as a boy and they both snuck around listening at doors after they found the spell book. Well-deceived was more like it.

  She had to think fast, because if Mrs. Hedley thought she knew everything already, she wouldn’t be able to ask questions.

  “Actually, my father fell ill suddenly,” she said. Hating herself for using the lie, she prayed she wouldn’t be punished by having it come true. “He’ll be fine, I’m sure, but I had to take over quite without warning. This is my first time using the portal, actually.”