Page 19 of Caught in Time
“It is pretty hot in here.”
Spencer offered her his arm and laid his fingers over hers when she nestled her hand within the crook of his elbow. As he led her through the room, they came upon General William Tecumseh Sherman himself.
Spencer came to an abrupt stop and saluted the older man.
“Tell us, now, Abbott,” the General said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, “are you going to marry this bonny lass? She is the most beautiful girl in Savannah I dare say!”
“Well, thank you, sir. I certainly wouldn’t argue with that!” Spencer replied enthusiastically.
Charlotte blushed at the compliment. The General captivated her. His physique was stringy, lean,and grizzled. It was obvious that he did not much care about his personal appearance. His complexion was rough, his eyes asymmetrical, and his dome-like brow was fringed with red lifeless hair. It was a difficult face to forget. She couldn’t help looking at his face again and again, studying it, trying to read it—this portrait of a man who was ready to fight, a man burdened with the need to prove himself.
She knew from her study of the man that General William T. Sherman was a complex and multifaceted individual, known for both his military prowess and his distinctive personality traits. He was a brilliant military strategist with a rich emotional life, a strong sense of duty—a man who had left a controversial legacy to the American people.
“Begging your pardon, General, but I was just about to take Miss Liddell for a stroll in the beautiful gardens.”
“Of course. I will see you both later,” Sherman replied.
Spencer wrapped his arm protectively about her waist, drawing her toward the door that led to the gardens.
When they went out into the mild evening air, Charlotte admired the borders of the parterre garden that were made from several shrubs of different shades of green clipped in such a way as to create compartments and pathways within the general space.
Rounding the side of the building they came to a stop behind high hedges and sat down on a wrought iron bench. Spencer turned towards her and crushed her against his chest. Without a word he plundered her mouth in a devastating kiss. His lips were possessive, and all thoughts swept into oblivion as his mouth explored, no,devouredhers. A kiss or touch had never so completely staggered her.
Sparkling, shining and new, it brimmed over at the surface of her being. Tired of being cautious and guarded she abandoned reason, at least for tonight ... this one special moment. His hands encircled her slender waist and slid over her curves in a caress that left her flesh hot and thirsty for more. A soft moan escaped her lips as she leaned further into him.
This felt so...Right.
He traced a trail of fiery kisses down her neck and murmured, “I’ve been waiting, wanting to do this all night. I just want you, only you.”
“Oh, Spencer,” she moaned his name, a breathless whisper escaping her throat. At that moment she would follow him anywhere.
Pulling back, he implored her, “What do you say, Charlotte?”
“Say to what?”
She pressed forward, wanting nothing more than to be swept back into his arms.
His face was intense, nervous.
“I want to ask you to marry me.”
“I can’t, Spencer,” she replied.
“Why not?”
****
She beseeched him withher huge green eyes and a blow full in the chest could not have more powerfully laid him low.Please God, make this believable. I want to believe her. I love her.
“I’m from the future,” she said, and squeezed her eyes shut as if to hide from the look of disbelief she knew must be on his face.
“The ... future.”
Seconds passed before he added, “I see.”
Charlotte opened her eyes and gazed at him
“No,” she said. “I don’t think you do. I knew it was hopeless to think you might take me on trust, take my word for something do far beyond the realm of possibility that even I had a hard time accepting it when it ... happened. When I was torn from the year two thousand and twenty-four.”
