They ducked out of sight just in time as the young Tilly and Ashford strolled past, deep in what looked like serious conversation.
“Should we follow them?” Owen asked when they were well out of hearing range.
As much as she wanted to, it would serve no purpose. They’d already wasted valuable time gawking at everyone’s younger selves. “I didn’t see Nick, did you? He looks a lot like his brother Jeremy, just with lighter hair. More golden.”
Owen made a gagging noise at her description. “I didn’t see Jeremy or anyone who looked like him.”
“That’s not good.”
“Why not?” Owen asked.
“Because Mum was positive he was here on this night. He’d been staying at the house. And if he’s not in the ballroom surrounded by witnesses who could keep him from getting killed…”
“Right, then. We need to keep looking for either him or your father.”
***
Ashford opened his eyes to find himself in the same corner of the rose garden. A sharp pain in his head and a roiling gut told him the spell had succeeded. It was much later than when he started and the sky was a brilliant blanket of stars. He’d gone to a different time. The spell he’d spent the last few desperate days hashing together had started from the one he’d used all those years ago when Matilda did her runner. It had made him so violently ill after several uses that he had almost died. After poring over the book he made some adjustments and hoped for the best.
The way he currently felt led him to believe his changes hadn’t been optimal. But he’d gone to a different time, of that he was certain. If it was the right time, that was the question. He shakily got to his feet and tried to push down the rising nausea. It only took him a few steps out of the rose garden to see the house lit up and the front entry lined with carriages.
Serena’s ridiculous welcome home party. He remembered it like it was yesterday and had chosen it after a great deal of deliberation. For one, it was a time he knew that he could easily find Nick, and it was also a fond memory for him. He was so full of helpless rage at failing his family that it seemed like poetic justice that he should fix everything on one of the happiest evenings of his life.
On this night he had confessed all his secrets to Matilda and she hadn’t recoiled from him. They’d been an unstoppable team ever since and he wouldn’t let that crumble because he’d been weak all those years before. What came after that poetic justice took place? He refused to think about it. He was convinced this was the only way to keep his daughter safe once and for all.
Instead of heading toward the house, he walked the long way around the back. The plan that he’d labored over for so long began and ended with go back and take care of Nick. Now that he was here, he still had to figure out how to get his target alone. He looked down at the clothes he was wearing, realizing too late that even if no one noticed his aged countenance and smattering of gray hair, his clothes would stand out. Especially on a night like this when everyone would be in their finest.
Swearing to himself, he stumbled over a step he didn’t remember being there. The movement jostled his upset stomach and caused a fresh spike of pain to stab at his head. God, he hated feeling so weak. He couldn’t believe he actually missed his cursed portal. That at least had never made him so ill. But it had also never taken him to such a precisely chosen point in time, either, or allowed him to travel within his own lifetime. He knew he needed to act fast for fear of truly getting sick. He’d seen what encountering oneself in one’s own timeline had done on two separate occasions and didn’t wish to experience the same.
As if fate despised him, he saw a young couple sitting on a bench not too far away, close together and deep in conversation. A pain sliced through his head that was so great it caused him to drop to his knees, feeling like it reverberated into his bones.
He dragged himself further away until the pain subsided to the point he felt he could gain his feet again and took another peek. There was his foolish younger self trying to ruin everything with Matilda by telling her all his family’s dark secrets. He smiled through his pain. Despite everything he’d done wrong, Matilda had still loved him. Still did love him. He wiped away a tear, shocked to find he was very near sobbing. Once this was done and she found out, would that be the thing that finally drove her from him?
It seemed cruel to have to choose between his wife and his daughter, both of whom he loved to the very fiber of his being. Matilda wouldn’t thank him, but she’d be glad he chose Ariana. Deep in her heart she’d be glad their child was safe. If she never spoke to him again, he’d find a way to live with it.
He turned away from his former self and made his way on shaking legs to the ballroom terrace. If he could get eyes on Nick, perhaps he could call him over from behind a potted plant or stay in the shadows. Once Nick figured out the Ashford he was speaking to wasn’t the proper Ashford, it would be too late for that scoundrel. Ashford only hoped he was strong enough to drag the fiend somewhere far enough away where he could do what needed to be done without any unnecessary clatter.
He patted the gun
