Gaby shook her head, driving the image of her death from her mind. “I know it sounds crazy, but being in the chamber triggered what could have been a past-life memory.” She fidgeted, her hands unable to remain still in her lap. If Emily thought she was insane, then, without a doubt, Jack would think so too.
“OMG,” Emily said, forgetting she was an elegant marchioness and lapsing into twenty-first-century speak. “I knew something was up, but I never dreamed it could be a blast from the past. So, what did you see? What happened? This is too brilliant!”
Gaby released a sigh of relief. Emily believed her. That was something, but the reality of what she’d experienced, though exciting, was tragic beyond what any words could convey. “I experienced my death in another life.”
“Oh.” The excitement on Emily’s face transposed into an expression of sadness and empathy. “That must have been awful.” She grabbed Gaby’s hand and squeezed. “What happened?”
Discussing reincarnation was surreal, but Gabriella supposed it wasn’t any more bizarre than the realization that time travel existed. “It felt so real, as if I was there, thousands of years ago, in the Etruscan world. The clothing, the architecture, the jewelry, everything. I even spoke the language, which was unlike any other I’ve ever heard.”
“Wait, you were the priestess Sir Edward found in the burial chamber, weren’t you?”
“I think so.”
“But then, from what you are saying, you didn’t die of natural causes.”
“No. I was in love with a man, which was forbidden. The elders and leaders believed physical love compromised my spiritual ties to the gods and goddesses.”
“Who was he? Who were you in love with?”
“Jack. He didn’t know he was Jack. But it was him all right. His name was Aranthur, and he tried to save me. To save us. He tried to hold off the soldiers they’d sent to kill me. He told me to run. But I couldn’t leave him, and I ran back and took him to a bluff much like where Jack found me when I first arrived here. And there was nothing we could do, so we…jumped.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Oh, Gaby, I’m so sorry. But don’t you see? You are here, and it must mean something. Something good for you and Jack.”
“I don’t know, Em. What if it’s just history repeating? What if we are powerless to change anything and we’re stuck on a terrible fate loop?”
“Oh, bullcrap! Have some faith! You and Jack have already had sex. Believe me, love will find a way. If Colin and I could figure it out, you can.” Emily grabbed Gaby’s hand, giving it a warm squeeze. “I think you’re being encouraged to follow your desire, and you must exert yourself and win him completely. You want to, don’t you?”
“Yes. I love Jack.” Saying the words aloud to someone other than herself made Gaby realize the truth—she did want to stay, and she wanted to make a life with Jack.
“I knew it! And I’m certain he loves you too. Jenee and I can see the hot looks he gives you when he thinks no one is looking. That guy has it bad for you.”
“But what about Cynthia? And what about his inheritance and estate? I bring nothing to the table.”
“You bringeverythingto the table. With your love, he can surmount any challenge. We need to talk with Jenee and Iris. Someplace where we can’t be overheard or observed.” Em squeezed Gabriella’s hand again. “I’m terribly worried about you.”
“I’ll bring tea to your rooms.”
“Brilliant. And bring some of those delicious scones. Being away from the children has brought out the stallion in my dear, beloved husband. I could be pregnant because I’m so bloody hungry all the time.”
Colin, who’d been reading a newspaper, peeked over the page and arched his brow. His eyes sparkled devilishly. “Really, darling, have we no secrets?”
Gabriella covered her mouth, stifling a giggle. You could take the twenty-first-century woman out of the modern world and plop her down in Victorian England, but you couldn’t take Em’s sense of humor away. Emily was Emily, and although she looked and dressed like a lady, she was as blunt, direct, and irreverent as always. Gaby had to hand it to Colin: none of his wife’s eccentricities bothered him. The man simply worshipped the ground Emily walked on, as Xavier worshipped Jenee.
“Go back to your paper, Lord Remington, and stop eavesdropping,” Emily said.
Colin chuckled, giving the newspaper a good shake, and his face disappeared behind the paper. “As you wish, my dear.”
It made Gabriella’s heart swell, knowing her friends had found such happiness. “You certainly haven’t changed in the least, Em.”
“Of course I haven’t. I’m still the same, Em. I’ve even become a bloody suffragette, although I dare not march through the streets with signs. It wouldn’t look well for Colin in the House of Lords. But I sometimes imagine burning my corset and riding my horse butt-naked through the streets of London like Lady Godiva.” Emily chuckled. “Wouldn’t that cause a scene? Oh, if only I could.”
Colin lowered his newspaper again and arched an amused eyebrow. Emily blew him a kiss and waved him back to his reading.
She turned back to Gaby. “I do try to temper my words and actions somewhat for Colin and the children’s sake. I write for theLondon Timesunder a pseudonym to spare them the wrath of theton. However, I must say even the women of the aristocracy are beginning to pay heed to women’s rights. My articles sell newspapers, especially among the female demographic, and my adoptive father, Sir Arthur Weatherby, couldn’t be more pleased. He is training me to succeed him as the publisher of theLondon Times, something unheard of in early twentieth-century England—or anywhere else, for that matter. It would shake up the status quo so completely I might be the cause of a revolution.” Emily giggled. “My darling husband is the epitome of patience. How I bless the day I landed in his arms.”
“I imagine it’s exciting for you to be doing what you always dreamed of doing, serious journalism. I’m very happy for you. I wish…I wish…” Tears filled Gabriella’s eyes.
“Hush, sweetie, don’t cry. Stiff upper lip.”
