river!”
“It’s mine,” Hawkhurst said matter-of-factly.
Tory had read about Lord Hawkhurst’s ship. It was a two-masted brigantine capable of great speed, and she remembered its name.
This cannot be happening.She reached out to the wall to steady herself. She felt the rough stone beneath her fingers and knew it was real. “What is the name of your ship?”
“TheSeacock .”
Tory’s hand went to her head and she felt herself slipping down into oblivion.
CHAPTER 3
“Where am I?” Tory felt strangely disoriented.
“You’re in my bed.”
She looked up into the bold black eyes of Falcon Hawkhurst and remembered everything.Somehow, I’ve gone back in time and there’s nothing I can do about it. Tory suddenly laughed.Perhaps there’s nothing I want to do about it!
“Why are you laughing, wench?”
“Because I’m your captive.”The air is charged with danger and excitement and I’ve never felt freer in my life! She reached out and traced her fingertips down his cheek.
“You don’t have a birthmark.”
He took hold of her fingers and removed them from his face. “If you touch me intimately, there will be consequences.”
She changed the subject quickly. “Do I smell food?”
“Mr. Burke brought our dinner. I suppose I must feed you.”
The tip of her tongue licked her top lip in an unconscious, provocative gesture. “I’m starving,” she murmured.
“Shall we dine in bed?”
“Cheeky swine! Do you enjoy deluding yourself?”
“Not as much as you enjoy being a cocktease.”
Tory gasped at the shocking word he used. She had never heard it before in her life, but she knew it was wicked, and she knew exactly what it meant.
“Victoria, you are actually blushing. Ladies of my acquaintance never blush.” Falcon was intrigued.
“Do you evenknow any ladies?”
His dark eyes searched her face. “I do now, it seems.”
She threw back the covers. “Though it’s most unladylike to dine in my underlinen, ’tis entirely your fault.”
“I don’t mind in the least. I find your undergarments quaint.”
He led her to a small table, held a gilt chair for her, and then sat down opposite her. He lifted a heavy silver cover, carved the bird, and, without consulting her, piled her plate with food. He poured them wine and started to eat. “Now tell me who you really are and why you are here.”
“I really am Victoria Carswell. My father, who was Reverend of the Hawkhurst parish church, died eighteen months ago. Bodiam has been empty for years and has fallen into sad disrepair.”
Falcon listened without interrupting, fascinated by her tale.
“A gentleman by the name of Sir Peregrine Palmer Fuller recently inherited the castle and invited me to dinner. He told me his intention was marriage. Because he knows how much I love Bodiam, he gave me permission to explore it. I have a great affinity with this castle and I was thoroughly enjoying myself, sensing the lingering impressions left behind by previous inhabitants. I was walking down a long passageway when I heard something padding behind me. I turned to look and saw a leopard! I was terrified and ran frantically up the spiral tower staircase trying to escape. I opened the door and there you were.”
“And here we are.” He raised his glass in a mocking salute.
She took a deep breath and plunged in. “I believe the leopard chased me into the past. I ran from Victorian times back into the Georgian era, a distance of a hundred years.”
“You speak as if you believe it with a passion.”
Tory blushed again. “I feel everything with a passion, though I have learned to mask it.”
“Why would you want to mask it?”
“It’s not proper for a respectable lady to show emotion. It’s not even proper tohave emotions, especially not passionate ones.”
“Passion is the greatest and rarest emotion to experience.” His eyes examined her face.
“The things I say keep you in a perpetual blush, and I find it intriguing. Perhaps weare
Maggie Ryan, Blushing Books