An Untimely Romance: A Time Travel Romance Read online

  Ruben sat up, his eyes widening.

  “You look so beautiful; I’m so lucky you’re mine.”

  Heather flicked her tongue between her lips playfully before turning away, the perfect contours of her back exposed, and she instinctively pulled her long tresses over her shoulder to one side. As she did so, she felt Ruben’s fingers gathering the lacings at her waist, tenderly pulling her in before securing her fastenings. She felt his moist lips caressing her, like butterfly wings fluttering across her skin.

  “I want you,” he whispered as she leant back against his chest. “I want you now.”

  She reached up and lovingly caressed the nape of his neck, stroking his hairline.

  “You like?” His soft voice trickled warmly into her ear.

  “Of course I like, I like very much,” she replied, breathless.

  She turned slightly, meeting his gaze.

  “And what about the dress?” Ruben asked, a sauciness to his tone.

  Heather elbowed him subtly in the side.

  “Cheeky,” she said, glancing down, lost in the moment.

  Then she froze, her blood instantly running cold, almost like an out-of-body experience. How had she not noticed it before? Her heart started beating erratically. It was the same dress that she had seen herself wearing at the top of the stairs the night before when the orb appeared.

  “Ruben, where did you get this dress? It’s a bad omen. I just know it! Undo me. I want it off, now!” she demanded.

  “Ya what? Do you get your kicks out of playing games with me?” Ruben sneered angrily. “It’s not every day I spend this much money on a girl, you know.”

  Bending down, he grabbed the lace at the hemline, lifting it above her thigh and feeling inside for something. She heard a tear as the netting of the inner skirt was pulled away.

  “Look, look at this!” He held her face harshly between his hand, pinching her cheeks, as if to make a point.

  Heather could feel her eyes welling up with tears as he held a price tag inches from her face: £2,570.

  “And it was from Caroline’s, the most prestigious boutique around these parts.”

  “I’m so sorry, I love it... Just let me explain,” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

  “It’s too late, you ungrateful bitch!” He pushed her away towards the bed, but she tripped on the dress and fell to the floor like a rag doll.

  “Beautiful!” Ruben laughed sarcastically, looking down at her blotchy, tear-stained face. “Pathetic, more like. I suppose you’ll run off and find your boyfriend now. And talking of Frank, get showered! You reek of him, and I don’t take kindly to anybody’s seconds.”

  “But, but...” Heather sobbed inconsolably.

  “It’s too late for buts,” he scolded, walking towards the doorway.

  He turned the large brass handle downwards and pulled the door open, before peering out onto the landing.

  “See you for dinner at six, girl,” he said, his voice softening.

  He didn’t turn back or make any further advances, and just closed the door behind him, leaving Heather in emotional turmoil.

  ~•••~

  Later that afternoon, Heather lay sobbing on her bed, thoughts of Ruben, Frank and the bizarre happenings around the manor over the last couple of days running through her head. She felt perplexed and at an all-time low. Between tears, she gazed at the beautiful dress, which was now hanging on the outside of her wardrobe. She felt a cold chill.

  “How could I have been so stupid, so bloody ungrateful?”

  She could have kicked herself. Her eyes drifted up to the ceiling. Suddenly, the vibration coming from her phone disturbed her. She rolled over to the chest of drawers and grabbed it. Looking down at the screen, she saw that Ruben was calling; somehow she just couldn’t face him, not yet. She felt so guilty about her actions, her almost childish outburst. But then Ruben didn’t know the half of it, did he? she thought to herself. The phone fell silent, but only for a second, and then a new message appeared: No questions asked. Pack ya bags, coz in the morning I’m taking my special girl away for the weekend. Can’t wait to c u l8r, luv you already, Ruben x P.S. Pack sumat sexy x

  The butterflies returned to her stomach. He’s forgiven me... she thought, sitting up and feeling revitalised. She walked over to her bedroom window and looked out at the immaculate gardens, feeling very proud. Freesdon Manor was becoming quite the prominent feature in the surrounding neighbourhood, and she felt so lucky to be living in such beautiful surroundings.

  “An hour and a half and he’ll be here!” she heard herself saying out loud.

  Dancing round the bedroom excitedly, she considered what to wear for dinner. She took her time and smiled at her choice of a red silk vest top – not overly dressy, but it felt nice against her skin, and complemented her pale complexion and mid-brown hair. After putting it on, together with her new black trousers, she admired herself in the mirror. Picking up her phone once again, she sent Ruben a short but sweet message she was sure he’d appreciate:

  Bags packed ... love you too xxxx.

  She giggled to herself as she pulled a small suitcase out from under her bed. She heard a light tapping at the door.

  “Okay, Mum, be with you in ten. No, actually, come in...”

  Heather couldn’t wait to tell her mum about the weekend; it would be a chance to have a girly talk and perhaps start building on their relationship.

  “Just putting my make-up on; come in,” she repeated.

  Heather stopped briefly, waiting for a reply, but there was silence. Strange, she thought, and went to open the door. An unassuming girl of a similar age to her was standing there, looking down at the floor, almost apologetically.

  “Yes, who are you?” Heather enquired, feeling rather disappointed.

  “Housemaid,” the girl squeaked.

  Her skin was almost transparent, and she had a small frame swaddled in a plain white dress. As for her hair, Heather couldn’t see very much of it since the majority was covered by an odd-looking skullcap; the few visible wisps were a light ginger.

  “I didn’t know my dad had employed a maid, and I’m not sure about the uniform, but don’t worry, I’ll have a word with him later.”

  The girl didn’t reply, her eyes never leaving the floor.

  “Well, you’d best come in then, I could do with a hand packing. You see, I’m going away for the weekend for a treat; my boyfriend’s taking me. It’s a surprise, so I have no idea where...” Heather’s excitement made her struggle to finish her sentence.

  Chapter Four

  A Home Away from Home

  It was the first time Heather had heard the newly fitted doorbell. As she walked across the hallway, she felt rather anxious and unsure of how dinner was going to pan out with both Ruben and Frank present. Passing from the annex through the library, she could already hear voices, mainly her dad’s. He was always out to impress, and in the loudest way possible, even more so with Ruben present. Dinner was being served in the refurbished dining room of the main house rather than the relaxed atmosphere of the annex, their living quarters. Stiff upper lip, and mind your P’s and Q’s, she thought. The double doors to the dining room stood open invitingly. Here goes, she thought. On entering, her mum was already serving drinks. All eyes turned in Heather’s direction.

  “Wow! Certainly worth the wait,” Ruben purred, retrieving a solitary red rose from the dining table and walking towards her. “I hope you like.”

  The answer was already held in her eyes. “It’s beautiful, thank you,” Heather replied, smiling down at the rich petals, its subtle perfumed aroma drifting upward.

  She felt his lips meet hers, only for an instant, but that was all it took for her knees to tremble. Ruben had left his casual attire behind that evening and his outfit was much more refined – a dark, almost navy-blue suit, obviously tailored since it fitted perfectly in all the right places. He looks so handsome, she thought.

  She quickly turned her gaze to Fr
ank so as not to appear rude. Although he too looked smart, it didn’t go unnoticed that his dress was still unfashionable and appeared to be the exact same outfit he’d been wearing earlier.

  “Good evening, Miss Richardson,” he said, walking towards her.

  “Enough of the formalities, we’re all friends here. Please sit,” Heather’s dad said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table and sitting himself down.

  “After you, madam,” Frank said, pulling a chair out for Heather on the opposite side.

  “Thank you,” Heather said, and sat down feeling quite the lady.

  Ruben’s eyes shifted awkwardly. It appeared he did not want to be outdone, so he pulled out a chair for Heather’s mum.

  “’Ere y’are, Faye, after you. Have you forgotten your manners, Walter?”

  Walter grunted; his manners, like his age, had moved on considerably, and now left a lot to be desired.

  Adjusting his silver-grey tie, which was slightly off-centre, he asked, “So, Ruben, how’s your father? Haven’t seen him on the golf course for, I’d say a good few days now.”

  “No, and you won’t for the next couple of weeks. He’s in the States somewhere. I lose count of all his business endeavours to be honest with you, Walter,” he replied, walking hurriedly round the table to sit beside Heather, leaving Frank to be seated on the opposite side next to Faye.

  The disappointment was clear in Walter’s demeanour as his attention turned to Frank.

  “Well, what’s your business in these parts? Where are you from? What’s your line of work?” he quizzed.

  “I’m born and bred around these parts; however, my business ventures regularly take me to London.”

  “So you’re not short of a bob or two...” Walter jumped in inquisitively.

  “Dad!” Heather scolded. “Questions, questions, questions. We’re here for a nice meal, not an inquisition! Sorry, Frankie,” she apologised for her dad’s rudeness. “He just gets carried away sometimes. He doesn’t mean anything by it, though, do you, Dad?” She turned to her father and gave him a threatening stare.

  “No offence taken,” Frank replied.

  But the atmosphere spoke for itself, and there was now a heavy feeling in the air.

  Lifting the mood slightly, Frank continued. “No, sir, I’m certainly not, as you put it, short of a bob or two. In fact, I am a very wealthy man, all of my own making, and will be wealthier still in the near future. As we speak, my dear Aunt Bertha lies on her deathbed, and upon her passing, I will receive a very handsome sum.” Frank surveyed his surroundings. “You see, sir, as an example, I would be able to afford Freesdon Manor...” He paused, as if deep in thought. “...five or six times over perhaps, and still be the wealthiest man in these parts. Although I regret there is a clause.”

  Ruben coughed, interrupting the conversation, and quickly changed the subject.

  “Well, I must say, you’ve both done a grand job with this place. I’m well impressed. Can’t wait for dinner; what’s on the menu, Faye?” he said, leaving Frank hanging mid-sentence.

  Walter beamed, looking very proud upon hearing Ruben’s complimentary words. He rose to his feet and tapped his half-empty wine glass with a knife.

  “I think a toast is in order before we dine, don’t you agree?” he said, addressing his guests and smiling with admiration as he looked around the room. “To Freesdon Manor.”

  “To Freesdon Manor,” they replied, raising their glasses.

  The dining room was like a historical work of art. The sturdy wooden table held many chairs, and the small party seated at one end was almost lost in its enormity. It was dressed beautifully, its centrepiece being an antique candelabrum that provided subtle lighting. The wooden panelling to the walls appeared to have been fashionable in olden times and could be found in most of the rooms; in this room, however, the walls were only partially clad, accompanied by a bold patterned paper somewhat hidden by nameless portraits.

  “Ah yes, Ruben, getting back to this evening’s menu,” Faye began. “We’re starting with soup; I’m sure the waiter said tomato and basil.”

  “Waiter?” Heather chuckled.

  “Yes, a waiter,” Walter said. “Thought I’d give ya mum a break from the kitchen tonight and employed a couple of the new starts to look after us. Edison’s a qualified cook in any case and will be working for us permanently in the tearoom, and Sami, his brother, will be serving us, you know, butler style.”

  “As I was saying,” Faye grumbled, “before I was rudely interrupted... Followed by caramelised roast duck served with chunky steamed veg, and I’m sure the sweet is a trio of chocolate truffles. Well, if you haven’t a sweet tooth, there’s plenty to choose from off the cheese board.”

  “Sounds delightful,” Frank said as he inhaled deeply.

  Heather also took in the fresh scent of herbs approaching.

  Sami approached the table carrying several large soup bowls.

  “Butler style,” Heather joked, looking at his black suit with starched collar and matching dicky bow. “You weren’t joking there, were ya, Dad?”

  Ruben’s stomach growled in hunger and he grabbed the plate of bread rolls, only to be pulled up abruptly by Frank.

  “A bit hasty, are we not? Shall we say grace?”

  “Are you for real?” Ruben snapped, as if momentarily forgetting where he was and stuffing as much of the soft roll into his mouth as he possibly could. “Grace!” he spluttered, small pieces of bread flying everywhere.

  Frank looked away, shaking his head in disgust. “We are amongst ladies, sir. Have you completely forgotten your manners?”

  Ruben fidgeted in his chair, flustered, perhaps due to the negative looks aimed in his direction.

  “Sorry, Walter,” he said. Lowering his eyes, he avoided his glare.

  “No, Ruben, don’t apologise. We don’t say grace, Frankie, never have and never will. So don’t try to change us and make us like you,” Heather snapped, quick to jump to her boyfriend’s defence.

  “Now, young lady, that’s quite enough of that. There’s a lot to be said about old traditions and family values; that’s what’s missing today. When I was a lad...”

  Heather’s face dropped. She had no intention of listening to him, and her eyes rolled back at her dad droning on and on. Once he started, there was simply no stopping him. The steaming soup was now cooling and waiting to be eaten. By the nonchalant looks and down-turned faces, Heather soon picked up on the fact that she wasn’t the only guest growing hungry. Her attention was drawn towards Frank as the cause of this not so great speech. But Frank’s eyes were fixed on the other side of the room and its main feature, the marble fireplace. Heather’s eyes followed his, and to the left side of the hearth stood the housemaid Heather had acquainted herself with earlier. Frank’s eyes appeared lost in the maid’s, yet an anger shone back in hers, which made no sense. Feeling like she was intruding, Heather looked away.

  “And they’re my views, so if you want to say grace, Frank, please go ahead,” Walter concluded.

  Speech over. Heather sighed inwardly. Glancing back towards the fireplace, she caught the housemaid looking at her, and Heather smiled. The housemaid’s response was quite unexpected, cold, fixated, like she was looking through rather than at her.

  “Bravo, Frank! Your words were so meaningful,” Faye said, clapping her hands together exuberantly.

  Nudging Ruben, Heather whispered, “What have I missed?”

  “Your peculiar friend’s amazing grace,” he said quietly, speaking into Heather’s ear so as not to be overheard.

  “So, where you taking our Hev this weekend?” Faye asked, talking and eating at the same time. “Excuse me,” she said, quickly dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

  Though excited at the thought, Heather couldn’t quite understand how her parents were acting so at ease with her pending weekend away with someone that, although her dad knew fairly well, she’d only been acquainted with for a couple of days.

  “Well,
that’s a secret, which Heather will have to wait to find out for herself, I’m afraid,” Ruben replied, slipping his arm around her shoulder. “But then I want only the best for my girl,” he gloated.

  Heather noticed the smug glance he threw in Frank’s direction; by the look of his furrowed brow, he had obviously picked up on Ruben’s cheap point scoring.

  Frank’s demeanour changed instantly; his shoulders dropped, though only momentarily, followed by a slight upturn to his lips.

  “Sir, might I venture to make a suggestion?” Frank began.

  “You don’t need to ask, lad, talk away,” Walter replied, scraping the last spoonful of soup from his bowl and listening with interest.

  “I know Heather’s eighteenth is nigh, but she is still classed as a minor. Should she be out unchaperoned?”

  Ruben burst into a fit of laughter.

  “Good God, man, this is the twenty-first century, and I’m twenty-four. What better chaperone could she possibly want? Don’t worry, Walter, I’ll look after her.”

  “That is what I fear,” Frank said with concern in his voice. “I do hope your intentions are honourable, sir. There is a substantial age difference.”

  “What are you implying? What do you think I am, Frank?” Ruben said through gritted teeth.

  Heather could feel his body tensing and she knew he was seething inside. As she reached for his hand, she felt his fists clenched under the table.

  The main doors opened, interrupting the two men, and Sami enquired if they were ready for the main course.

  “Yes, I think we’ve all finished,” Heather’s mum replied, looking at each bowl in turn.

  Sami retrieved them before returning to the kitchen.

  “Sir, I believe I could offer my services,” Frank said earnestly, lifting the decanter and refilling the wine glasses.