“You’ll enjoy it. A real life Druid is meeting us to talk about … Druid stuff. And an archeologist will talk about the dig inside the stone circle.”
“Sounds fabulous. Count me in.”
“Then Monday we’ll be alone, and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” It was an offhand remark, and yet there lingered a promise of more than a mere sightseeing trip in his eyes.
She touched her necklace as he drove away.
Even though he didn’t consciously remember her, she believed his heart recognized the connection between them. She believed in their future together.
Chapter Nineteen
Eleanor sat at the dressing table putting the finishing touches on her makeup.
“This place is fantastic,” her friend Kristen said from the window. She turned around. “I can’t believe it’s really yours.”
“Every creaking floorboard and leaky pipe,” Eleanor said, her words not hiding the pride in her voice. She’d purchased Twixton Manor with a portion of the proceeds from the sale of the Jane Austen books. Even though they’d been renovating for the past year, there was still much to do. And everything had cost more than estimated. The rest of their ambitious plans would have to be adjusted to match cash flow.
“It’s so cool that the two of you met here and now you’re getting married here.” Kristen sighed. “So romantic.”
She smiled her agreement. Funny how the first time around she’d had so many of the elements right, almost as if it was destined to be. The right place. The right time. Just the wrong groom. On the second time two years later, James had been the one to suggest getting married in the garden on the anniversary of the day they met. He’d even agreed to a Regency-themed wedding.
She’d chosen Deirdre and Mina’s tower rooms to dress in, for old time’s sake. There had been no reports of the ghosts making an appearance. Of course, she’d told James some of what had happened, but since he had never remembered much, she’d couched it in terms of a dream.
A knock sounded on the door.
“I’ll get that. You’d better put on your dress.” Kristen walked into the sitting room. “Who is it?” she called through the door.
“I need to speak to Eleanor.”
“You can’t see her now. It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding.”
Eleanor heard the edge of agitation in his voice, and since he so rarely got upset about anything, she decided she’d better see what the problem was. She grabbed her robe and shrugged it on while she walked. She entered the sitting room as she tied the sash.
“It’s all right,” Eleanor said to her friend. “Open the door.”
James stepped in, already dressed in his wedding finery,
Kristen stabbed a finger in his direction. “You have five minutes,” she said before ducking around him and closing the door behind herself.
“She’s rather bossy,” he said with a glance over his shoulder.
“She’s the perfect choice to run the L.A. shop.” Since she and James would be living in England, Eleanor planned to open an overseas branch of her successful costume-making business. “What’s that?” she asked with a gesture to the box.
“I thought we agreed to not get each other gifts. The reestablishment of the garden would be our present to each other.”
“We did.”
He stared at her as if expecting her to say more. She cautioned herself to proceed with care. James could be a bit touchy where money matters were concerned. His pride. Not that he was poor by any means. He had a wonderful job at Oxford that he loved, his doctoral thesis had been published to critical acclaim, and he had even turned his research into three successful historical novels. It was just that he had been shocked and amazed, as had she, at the fortune brought in by the Austen papers and first editions.
“Then why did you leave this on my desk?” James had taken one of the rooms in the north wing near their bedroom suite to use as an office.
“Me? I’ve never seen that before.”
“The other wedding gifts are downstairs in the parlor. Why would this one—”
“Did you read the card?”
“There isn’t one.”
“Perhaps it’s inside.”
He gave the present to her.
“It’s heavy.” She set it down on the table and unwrapped it. Inside was a silver box. The cloisonne design on top depicted a man and woman in Regency dress in a garden. When she opened it, the tinkle of music filled the air. “How lovely.”
He looked over her shoulder. “Is there a card?”
“No. Just an old key.”
He reached around her and slowly picked it up. “This … is the key to the safe that I gave Huxley after I put the jewelry back … I … I remember. I remember everything. It wasn’t a dream. I remember the ghosts, time travel, getting beat up, Lord Shermont, Digby, and …”
She spun around and hugged him.
He pulled back to look her in the eye. “And I remember you, Eleanor. You were there. You weren’t dreaming either.”
She nodded and shook her head in turn.
“You might have told me.”
“Would you have believed me?”
“With my head? Probably not. With my heart … always. I think I fell in love with you the moment we met. Both times.” He kissed her gently and thoroughly.
“I wonder how the key got here,” she said.
“You don’t suppose the jewels are still hidden in the wall after all these years.”
“Let’s find out,” she said with a grin.
There was a knock on the door. “Hey, you two. We have a wedding to go to,” Kristen called through the door.
“I guess it will have to wait until after the reception,” Eleanor said.
He smacked his head. “I forgot to tell you. Carol’s flight finally made it, and she arrived about an hour ago. I asked Helga to put her in the blue room.”
Eleanor nodded. One wing of the house was still as it was when it was an inn, which had come in handy with all the wedding guests. Their small staff had been stretched to the limit, even with the addition of a veritable army of temporary workers. “You aren’t going to spend the evening talking to your editor about your next book, are you?”
“No. In fact, she wants to talk to you about Deirdre and Mina’s journals that you mentioned last time we were in New York. She’s thinking book and docudrama. Simultaneous release. Could be big.”
“Oh.”
“What’s the matter? That’s good news.”
“I only mentioned them in relation to the Jane Austen memorabilia. Their story isn’t mine to tell. I really doubt they would want their journals made public.”
