He narrowed his eyes at her. “If that’s the case, what’s wrong with this chap that you won’t let your parents get to know him and feel the need to run off to a completely different time to be with him?”
“There’s nothing wrong with him!” Even as she said it, all her recent complaints about him rushed to the forefront of her mind. “And my parents do know him. Or rather, they knew him before I was born.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath and stood up, hands braced against the table. “Holy God. Is he that much older than you?”
“No,” Ariana said, becoming exhausted trying to explain. “I went back and met him when he was still young.”
Dexter’s coffee-colored skin turned as white as the milk that sat in Dahlia’s abandoned cereal bowl. He sank back into his chair. “When?” He repeated it louder when she didn’t answer right away.
“Before my parents were married.” Her anger ramped up a notch. “Or at least I think that’s right. I can’t be certain since every other thing they’ve ever told me has been a lie.”
“You ungrateful, spoiled—” He mashed his lips together and shook his head. “The reason your parents kept certain things from you was to—” He stopped again and pressed his clenched fists against his forehead. “Enough is enough. You’re going home. Right now. To Belmary House, 1832. To your parents, damn it. Where you’ll be safe.”
“Safe from what?” she demanded.
“Get your gown from the laundry room. You can change when we get there.”
Rage blinded her. “No,” she shrieked. “You can’t tell me where and when to go. No one can tell me what to do if they can’t even tell me the truth.”
He blinked at her for several seconds before replying almost tentatively. “Nicholas Kerr.”
Her mouth went dry. “How do you know about Nick?” She was positive she’d never mentioned his name to Dahlia. It shouldn’t have been possible, but Dexter went paler than the milk.
He put his hand over his mouth and made a sound like a wounded animal. His eyes filled with tears and he shook his head back and forth. “Tell me it isn’t so,” he finally begged. “Say you’re not living with Nicholas Kerr. Not him.”
Of course she couldn’t say that. Refused to admit a single thing without getting some answers of her own. “Tell me how you know about Nick.”
He continued shaking his head. “The reason I know about him is the same reason your parents kept the truth from you. The reason they decided to never let you know about traveling through time.” He laughed a mirthless, anguished laugh.
“What reason?” She slapped the table to emphasize each word, not caring if it was rude and unladylike.
“Ariana.” Dexter reached for her hand, his own ice cold. “Nick Kerr murdered you.”
Chapter 11
Ariana sat in dumbfounded disbelief as the story spilled out of him. How could any of it be true? Her mother had left her father before they were married? Impossible. Even more impossible was she’d ended up in a time when Ariana was already born and living in a luxurious mansion, acting as the queen of a coven of witches. Since she and her mother looked so much alike, Nick had supposedly kidnapped Tilly and passed her off as Ariana after he had already killed her, in order to gain power and control of her fortune.
“It can’t be,” she said, long moments after Dexter finished the winding tale. “Nick would never… perhaps this Sir Amos you speak of was someone different and my mother was confused. But there’s no one by that name so none of that can possibly happen the way it did before.” She pushed her unfinished breakfast dish away, mind racing. Everything else about the story was eerily similar, though.
“Your mum was certain it was Nick,” he said. “He bragged to her about it being revenge.”
“Revenge for what?” Her voice cracked and she took a sip of water. “I can’t fathom any of this. It’s too much. It can’t have been real.”
“It was real enough that your parents swore off magic and bent the truth to try and keep it from happening again. They even set up some sort of investment opportunity so Nick would leave the country and there’d be no chance you’d ever be close to him, despite the fact his brother is one of your dad’s best friends.”
“The investment,” she breathed.
If she hadn’t been sitting, she was sure she’d have tumbled to the floor. Sparkling lights danced at her peripheral vision and she struggled not to put her head down on the table. Searching her childhood memories, she tried in vain to have a memory of Nick. She’d been to Jeremy Kerr’s estate countless times. She called him uncle, just as she did Kostya. All his sisters doted on her and treated her like a favorite doll. There’d been a sadness about them sometimes— a family member who lived far away and never visited. She sucked in a breath. That had to have been Nick. He must have gone to Italy to seek the investment her parents had set up. Or perhaps it had been her, stealing him away to the future. All the lies that made up her life caused her head to spin.
“Are you all right?” Dexter asked. “You look as though you may lose your breakfast.”
“I may,” she confirmed. She wasn’t at all well. Remembering the faded letter he’d shown her the night before, she shoved away from the table, swaying as she found her feet. “Mum and Dad must be beside themselves. I have to get back and assure them everything is fine. They must have changed things enough. Or been wrong or confused the first time. There’s no way Nick would ever hurt me. He’d go mad if someone tried.”
Dexter looked like he wanted to disagree with her, but only nodded tersely. “Grab your gown. We’ll go to the house at once.”
She hurried
