For All Time by Jude Deveraux


  Graydon didn’t like what she was saying, but he did like that she was angry and not crying. “In my country—”

  Standing up, Toby glared at him. “Your country is causing all the problems. Who has arranged marriages today?”

  “Most of the world,” he said calmly. “And they do not have a fifty percent divorce rate.”

  “That’s because the women can’t get away from the men. They’re trapped.”

  Graydon sat where he was, knowing that her anger wasn’t about his country, wasn’t even about him.

  His calm brought Toby back to reality. She collapsed onto the couch beside him. “I don’t believe in destiny. Why couldn’t we change history for the better? Maybe Garrett and Tabby could make a child who is more important than any of them. Maybe he or she will cure cancer. Maybe we’ll change history so much that we return to find out there was no World War II.” Her eyes were pleading with him for help.

  He picked up her hand and kissed her palm. He was glad to see color coming back to her face. “I will do all in my power to help us bring this about. I pledge all that I have to you. Now, shall we go exploring?”

  She knew he meant that they should go look inside BEYOND TIME. Perhaps there they’d find the answer. “Yes,” she answered, smiling with her heart in her eyes. “Let’s go.”

  “How do you seduce a man?” Toby asked Lexie on the telephone. Usually Lexie dominated their calls as she excitedly told of all she and her boss were doing on their long road trip. But today Lexie was unusually quiet. Toby knew she should ask Lex what was wrong, but she couldn’t. At the moment, Toby’s own problems were too urgent.

  “I don’t know,” Lexie said. “Breathe. Be. Exist. It doesn’t seem to be too difficult to get one of them to make a pass at you. You aren’t after your prince, are you?”

  Toby took a breath. “Yes.”

  “Don’t do this!” Lexie said. “He’s going to leave and—Wait a minute. You want to and he’s telling you no?!”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what’s happening.”

  “That’s insulting,” Lexie said. “Does he think he’s too good for you? He’s a prince and you’re a peasant? That sort of thing?”

  “No, no, no,” Toby said. “It’s not like that at all. I think he wants to but I’m cursed with a second virginity and he doesn’t want to take it again.”

  “Toby,” Lexie said slowly, “you need to explain that remark.”

  She started to, but Toby knew she couldn’t. Maybe if Lexie were there and surrounded by the mystique of Nantucket, what she had to say would be believable, but not over the phone. Not to someone who was in the sunny south of France. “It doesn’t matter,” she said at last. “It’s just that Graydon leaves in two days and he refuses to go to bed with me again, and I want him to. And before you protest, let me remind you that you told me to have an affair with him.”

  “Yeah, well, that was before I learned how serious affairs can be.”

  Toby heard what sounded like misery in her friend’s voice. “How’s Roger? Are you two still just having fun sex, with no commitments?”

  In other circumstances, Lexie would have said yes to the sex but admitted that feelings were being added. But Toby sounded so down that Lexie decided against it. “Have you tried exceptional underwear?”

  “Aubade,” Toby said. “I ordered it online.”

  “You are serious. Booze?”

  “He insists that I drink with him, I fall asleep after two drinks, and I wake up in my own bed. Fully clothed.”

  “Do you spend time together?”

  The answer to that question made Toby’s mind spin. It had been a whole week since they’d gone to see Dr. Huntley, and since then she and Graydon had rarely been apart. They were both obsessed with fixing what they’d done wrong. They wanted to save Garrett and Tabby. It had been Graydon’s idea that when—if—they returned they could leave a letter behind explaining how to prevent death in childbirth. But before they could write such a letter, they needed to do some research. They’d ordered out-of-print books on the history of childbirth, downloaded books on their eReaders, and done online searches. When they went back they wanted to know all the possibilities so they could prevent Tabby’s death no matter what. Their conclusion was that if she’d died from something simple—dirty midwife hands?—they’d be able to fix it. But if it was something like preeclampsia, there was no hope.

  In addition to their research, they slept at the BEYOND TIME house. The first night they’d used sleeping bags they’d found in the attic of Kingsley House. But Graydon said his back couldn’t take more of that so he’d bought mattresses from Marine Home and had them delivered.

  Mattresses. Plural. Two of them, twin size.

  At first Toby had laughed. She thought he’d done that to make Daire and Lorcan believe they weren’t lovers—which, to Toby’s mind, they were. But no, Graydon made the ridiculous comment that he wasn’t going to take her maidenhood a second time.

  “This isn’t Lanconia,” Toby said to him. “This is America, and any virgin over the age of twenty is put on the cover of People magazine, or they go on Ellen and explain themselves.”

  Graydon didn’t give in. In the ensuing week Toby did everything she could think of to entice him onto her mattress, but he wouldn’t budge.

  She finally answered Lexie’s question. “Yes, we’re together whenever he isn’t working with his brother. I’ve neglected Victoria’s wedding and haven’t seen my friends for a week, but Graydon is wonderful. He holds me when I cry; he talks me out of sadness. He does everything except make love to me.”

  “Toby,” Lexie said, “what do you mean he holds you when you cry? What is that man doing to you?!”

  “It’s not like that,” Toby said, her voice hesitant. “It’s … You see, he and I are working on a historical project for, uh, for Victoria’s 1806 wedding and I keep reading about things like medical practices back then and, well, I get a bit teary about it.”

  “It doesn’t sound to me like you’re neglecting Victoria’s wedding at all. It sounds like you’re obsessing on it.”

  If you only knew, Toby thought, but didn’t say. During the day she and Graydon watched the old house. When he wasn’t working out, he took calls from Rory while in front of the window, always watching.

  On the second day, Daire asked Graydon what he was trying to see.

  “When the door to that old house opens by itself, it’s an invitation to enter, and I want to be ready to accept.”

  That afternoon, Daire and Lorcan left Toby’s house and walked across the lane. When they returned, they reported that every window and door of the old house was shut tight.

  They’d jiggled the front door, and Daire had rammed it with his shoulder, but it didn’t budge. There was no way that door was going to open by itself.

  They told their future king what they’d seen, but that didn’t stop Graydon’s vigilance. As doubtful as they were, they joined in watching the house. While Graydon was busy helping Rory and Toby was involved with the minutiae of Victoria’s wedding, Daire and Lorcan kept watch. At night Toby and Graydon stayed in the house and waited for it to invite them back into the past.

  “I have to go,” Lexie said. “Roger wants …”

  “What does he want?” Toby asked.

  “Nothing, it’s just that …” Lexie didn’t think she should talk to Toby of what was becoming the happiest time in her life, when her friend was so obviously unhappy. And she was frustrated by Toby’s lack of confiding in her. But then, she wasn’t exactly forthcoming about her and Roger.

  “You sound like you have problems. Is everything all right?”

  “Yes. Very much all right. Roger isn’t like I thought he was. The outside of him doesn’t allow a person to see the inside.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’ll tell you later, but I have to go now. Send me emails, okay?”

  “Sure,” Toby said and they hung up.

  “We’re failing, aren??
?t we?” Toby said to Graydon from her mattress. They were physically close to each other but as far apart as two countries separated by oceans could make them. It was dark in the old house, and there were often creaks and groans, but they’d grown used to them. Moonlight came through the uncurtained windows so they saw each other in silhouette.

  Graydon didn’t know which failure she was referring to. That he was in love with a woman he couldn’t marry? Yes, that was a complete failure. That he’d begun to doubt what his true purpose was in life? Yes. Or was she thinking about how they had changed history so three innocent people died and others had had their lives destroyed? Yes to that too.

  “I’d say we are,” he said. “Toby, I never meant—”

  “Please don’t apologize. I can’t take any more guilt.” She took a breath. “What are you going to do after the ceremony?”

  He knew she was talking of his coming engagement. Before he could think of an answerless reply, she said, “And how is Rory going to stand seeing you marry the woman he loves?”

  Graydon’s heart seemed to stop. “How do you know that?”

  “When I was unpacking his luggage, I found his wallet. Danna’s photo was in there. A man doesn’t usually carry a picture of his sister-in-law-to-be.”

  When Graydon didn’t answer, Toby wanted to shake him. “Don’t shut me out! We have so little time left.” She lowered her voice. “Please.”

  It wasn’t easy for Graydon to talk about such a deep secret. From childhood he’d been taught to keep things to himself. As it was, he knew some diplomatic secrets that could cause, if not wars, certainly some ferocious battles.

  “Honestly, I don’t know how to handle any of it. I saw them,” he said softly. “When I went back in time, before I found you, I saw Rory with Danna. I haven’t done any research on them, and I didn’t ask Caleb, but I assume they lived a long and happy life.” He smiled in the moonlight. “My brother wore an earring in his left earlobe. If Dr. Huntley told me Rory did a little pirating on the side, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “He’s not suited to being a king,” Toby said, and they both knew she was talking about the endless trouble Rory’d had over the last weeks. “But you are.”

  Graydon rolled over onto his side to face her. “I’ve missed what I do. This time away from it has shown me what Rory has always said, that the job suits me. He finds diplomacy and having to talk for hours about things like trade agreements boring, but I …” He trailed off and turned onto his back.

  “It makes you feel like you’re doing something for your country, for the world even.”

  “Yes,” he said, then gave a great sigh. “I love my work, but I dread going home. How do I keep my brother from hating me? How do I leave you?”

  Toby wanted to tell him she had the perfect solution, but she had none. Graydon was going to leave, marry another woman, and eventually become the king of a country. There would come a time when this moment, of the two of them alone in an old house, would become a distant—and beloved—memory.

  The air between them seemed heavy with their gloomy thoughts and Toby wanted to lighten the mood. “Your brother will probably be so bitterly unhappy that he’ll turn to drink.”

  “No,” Graydon said, his tone serious. “Rory’s more a speed junkie. He’ll race cars with Roger Plymouth. It’s you I worry about.”

  “I’ll be like the woman in the movie It’s a Wonderful Life. If you don’t want me, I’ll become a librarian and let my eyebrows go unplucked. And I’ll never get rid of this blasted virginity.”

  Graydon gave a little laugh. “I should be so lucky! Once Daire and I are out of here, a hundred men will come after you. You’ll choose some short, ugly man who adores you and will buy you an estate in Connecticut and you’ll grow acres of flowers. You’ll tend your gardens with a fat, blond baby strapped to your chest and two others following you, all of you laughing and singing.”

  She knew he was trying to make a joke but the image he’d conjured was so perfect that it brought tears to her eyes. The only thing missing was Graydon beside her—probably on his cell phone telling someone how to do something.

  “Not helping, am I?”

  “No,” Toby said, “you aren’t. But then you and I don’t seem able to help anyone, do we?”

  “No, we don’t. If we just knew exactly what had killed Tabby, maybe we could change things. As it is now, if we went back it would take weeks to write down all that we’ve learned about the disgusting childbirth methods of the past. Cupping and bleeding!”

  “If we both write it, it won’t take that long.”

  “Considering that I’m going to be making love to you for twenty hours a day, that doesn’t leave us much time to write.”

  “Graydon,” she said and her voice was a combination of tears and pleading. She went to him.

  When he opened his arms to her, Toby started to fall into them. But suddenly, she halted, his hands on her shoulders, hers on his. “That’s it.”

  “Toby,” he whispered as he started to pull her down to him. “I can resist you no longer.”

  She pushed away to sit on the edge of the mattress. “We’ve been researching childbirth in general, but maybe there’s a way to find out specifically what caused Tabby’s death.”

  “We didn’t find a mention of a journal anywhere,” Graydon said, his hands running up her arms.

  “Dr. Huntley said Parthenia and Valentina were there at the birth and they wrote letters to each other.”

  Graydon struggled to regain control. For a whole week Toby had nearly driven him insane with her not-so-subtle attempts to get him into bed with her. From underwear so seductive it made him dizzy to looks so suggestive he broke into a sweat, he’d survived it all. But then he’d done his best to exhaust himself with constant, hard workouts. At the end of one that had lasted four and a half hours, Daire jammed his sword into the earth and said in Lanconian, “Burn her, not me!” and walked away. Graydon, sweat rolling down his face, asked Lorcan what she was doing. “Ordering tents,” she’d said and fled into the house. Graydon had too much pent-up, frustrated energy for either of them to handle.

  But now, when he’d finally succumbed, Toby was talking about the damned past spirits. It wasn’t easy to get his mind back to what she was talking about. “If they were both here, they wouldn’t have been writing letters to each other,” he managed to say.

  “This island was a hotbed of letter writers,” Toby said, “so maybe we could find something somewhere.”

  Not in two days, Graydon thought, but didn’t say. He purposely hadn’t answered Toby’s question of what he was going to do after the engagement ceremony because he knew it was better if he didn’t return to Nantucket. He needed to sort out things with Rory. And as Toby had suggested, he should ask Danna what she wanted. “Aunt Jilly,” he said. “In the morning we’ll visit her and ask if she knows anything about Garrett and Tabby.”

  “She would have told us when we mentioned them at the dinner party,” Toby said. “But wait! Back then, Tabby had married Osborne.”

  She turned on the table lamp sitting on the floor and picked up her cell phone. “What are you doing?”

  “Calling Jilly.”

  “It’s nearly eleven P.M. This can wait until morning.”

  She punched a button and put the phone to her ear. “No, it can’t. We need every hour before you leave.” She looked at him. “Before I never see you again.”

  Graydon didn’t want to confirm what they both were dreading. “Call her,” he said.

  It was Ken who answered, his voice heavy with sleep. “Toby! This better be important.”

  “It is. Please let me speak to Jilly.”

  “Sorry about the time,” Toby said when Jilly answered, “but we need some information about the past. I know you’ve done a lot of research about your own family’s history, but because Valentina and Parthenia were part of that I thought …” She looked at Graydon.

  He took the phone from her. “Aunt Jil
ly, I’m very sorry about the late hour, but I was wondering how complete your database on our family is. Is it possible that you could find a mention of Tabby and Garrett Kingsley?” He listened. “Yes, yes, I see. Excellent. Yes, thank you.” He clicked off the phone and looked at Toby in silence.

  “What?!”

  “She doesn’t remember reading of those names specifically, but then, over years of work she’s transcribed thousands of letters, as well as photos and other documents, into a massive database. She bookmarked every name and place, object, house, whatever was in them so she can quickly reference them.”

  “Let me guess,” Toby said. “It’s all in Maine and it will take her days to access it.”

  Graydon kissed her cheek. “Not that it matters but Jilly is a Taggert and lives in Colorado, and yes, it’s all there.”

  Toby sighed.

  “However, you do underestimate my family. She has a backup of everything on flash drives and she has a set here. She just has to plug in the correct drive and do a search, then she—” He broke off when the phone rang. “Let’s see what she says.”

  Toby put the phone on speaker.

  “Yes,” Jilly said, “I found them mentioned in a letter Parthenia wrote home to her mother.” She hesitated. “But I’m afraid it’s not good news. Poor Tabby. Her husband meant well, but his good intentions killed her.”

  Graydon took Toby’s hand in his. “What did he do?”

  He and Toby listened to the horrible story Jilly told of how a Dr. Hancock had, in essence, murdered dear Tabitha.

  Tomorrow they leave, Toby thought, then tried to shut the idea out of her mind. But it was impossible since all she and Lorcan had done lately was prepare for their departure. Clothes washing, sorting, finding things, organizing.

  At breakfast the four of them were silent, eating the meal the men had prepared without saying a word.

  Toby and Daire reached for the plate of Lanconian cheese at the same time. “You take it,” Toby said politely.

 
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