Forgotten Time (Ravenhurst Series, #1) A New Adult Time Travel Romance by Lorraine Beaumont Page A
Authors: Lorraine Beaumont
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through the sheer curtains, spilling over her, warming her body. She had to admit, she was a little sad to be awake. Now, she would never know how her awesome dream ended. Maybe, she hoped, she would dream about it tonight as well. Opening her eyes, she screamed. Those damn, beady, little eyes were staring down at her, tauntingly. She rose up, ignoring the pain in her head, and untied the curtain to cover their faces.
“Nasty, little buggers,” she mumbled, falling back onto the pillows. Well, that answered that. She wasn’t dreaming. She closed her eyes, trying to make sense of the absurdity of everything.
So… Milford was the man with the necklace from work, and also what? A butler from the past? She laughed out loud. It began as a small little sound, and then came out harder ‘til her eyes began to tear up. She rolled back and forth on the bed like an imbecile. This was good. She was living in an alternate reality that rivaled some of the best movies she had ever seen.
What were the odds? She finally composed herself somewhat, her hysteria dying down to a slight giggle. She climbed from the bed, deciding to embrace her insanity. She may as well act the part, like one of her favorite heroines in movies.
Take her lumps and make the best of it.
She tried to focus on what Milford told her about the legend, which didn’t really even seem like a legend to her, more of a sad love story, really.
Did she miss something? She must have. Where were these ill-begotten treasures? Why was everyone after them? Well, besides the obvious reasons. What did this Marguerite girl have to do with it? What about the necklace? Seriously, she must have missed the gargantuan part of the story, because there was so much she did not understand.
She was about to jump back into the bed and cover her head until she re-awoke in her own world. Half way there she paused. And what if she did? Would she remember any of this? Would she wish she were here instead of in her own bed? She shook her head; obviously, it was a no-win situation.
Suddenly, she remembered the necklace. Maybe it had some kind of mystical properties. She knew her reasoning was far-fetched, but really, she was in freaking Victorian England, betrothed to some hot earl. So her brilliant deduction really couldn’t be that far-fetched. She ran over to the bureau with claw feet and pulled a few of the drawers open. One had all gloves inside, every color and length. Another had fancy ribbons, stockings actually made from silk, undergarments, and a small, blue, leather-embossed novel, which was tucked behind one of the drawers. She pulled it out, Vanity Fair II by W.M. Thackeray. She remembered the movie, at least the remake of Vanity Fair with Reese Witherspoon. Katherine wondered if this book was a continuation of the movie she saw.
Oh well, it seems Marguerite had a taste for books about women who knew how to get what they wanted, at all costs. Mental note to self: read novel and find out how to get what I want.
Katherine found the necklace, finally, in the bottom drawer of the bureau, buried under several shawls. Who would have gone to such trouble to hide it? She wondered, as she pulled it out and lifted it up. The necklace sparkled, beckoning her with its beauty once more. She was about to put it around her neck and wish herself back home. Instead, she froze.
What would happen if she did put it back on? Her heart began to sink. What if she simply poofed back to the future? If she put the necklace back on, would she wake up back at work, listening to Janice talk about her latest conquest? Or Ned’s latest acquisition? Or worse? What if she ended up back in her apartment? And none of this ever happened? What if she never saw him again? If she left now, she would never find out how he kissed. Or feel her heartbeat racing when he was near. What if her knees never wobbled? Or her heart? Would it ever fall… in love ? If she did not give herself the chance to know him, how
“Nasty, little buggers,” she mumbled, falling back onto the pillows. Well, that answered that. She wasn’t dreaming. She closed her eyes, trying to make sense of the absurdity of everything.
So… Milford was the man with the necklace from work, and also what? A butler from the past? She laughed out loud. It began as a small little sound, and then came out harder ‘til her eyes began to tear up. She rolled back and forth on the bed like an imbecile. This was good. She was living in an alternate reality that rivaled some of the best movies she had ever seen.
What were the odds? She finally composed herself somewhat, her hysteria dying down to a slight giggle. She climbed from the bed, deciding to embrace her insanity. She may as well act the part, like one of her favorite heroines in movies.
Take her lumps and make the best of it.
She tried to focus on what Milford told her about the legend, which didn’t really even seem like a legend to her, more of a sad love story, really.
Did she miss something? She must have. Where were these ill-begotten treasures? Why was everyone after them? Well, besides the obvious reasons. What did this Marguerite girl have to do with it? What about the necklace? Seriously, she must have missed the gargantuan part of the story, because there was so much she did not understand.
She was about to jump back into the bed and cover her head until she re-awoke in her own world. Half way there she paused. And what if she did? Would she remember any of this? Would she wish she were here instead of in her own bed? She shook her head; obviously, it was a no-win situation.
Suddenly, she remembered the necklace. Maybe it had some kind of mystical properties. She knew her reasoning was far-fetched, but really, she was in freaking Victorian England, betrothed to some hot earl. So her brilliant deduction really couldn’t be that far-fetched. She ran over to the bureau with claw feet and pulled a few of the drawers open. One had all gloves inside, every color and length. Another had fancy ribbons, stockings actually made from silk, undergarments, and a small, blue, leather-embossed novel, which was tucked behind one of the drawers. She pulled it out, Vanity Fair II by W.M. Thackeray. She remembered the movie, at least the remake of Vanity Fair with Reese Witherspoon. Katherine wondered if this book was a continuation of the movie she saw.
Oh well, it seems Marguerite had a taste for books about women who knew how to get what they wanted, at all costs. Mental note to self: read novel and find out how to get what I want.
Katherine found the necklace, finally, in the bottom drawer of the bureau, buried under several shawls. Who would have gone to such trouble to hide it? She wondered, as she pulled it out and lifted it up. The necklace sparkled, beckoning her with its beauty once more. She was about to put it around her neck and wish herself back home. Instead, she froze.
What would happen if she did put it back on? Her heart began to sink. What if she simply poofed back to the future? If she put the necklace back on, would she wake up back at work, listening to Janice talk about her latest conquest? Or Ned’s latest acquisition? Or worse? What if she ended up back in her apartment? And none of this ever happened? What if she never saw him again? If she left now, she would never find out how he kissed. Or feel her heartbeat racing when he was near. What if her knees never wobbled? Or her heart? Would it ever fall… in love ? If she did not give herself the chance to know him, how
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