Page 1 of Caught in Time
Prologue
Savannah, Georgia,December 2024
Early in the evening, after attending a week-long conference in Atlanta, Dr. Charlotte Liddell returned home a day earlier than expected. She let herself into the condo and looked for her fiancé, but she couldn’t find him in the living room. She made her way down the hall that led to the bedroom. The door had been left slightly ajar, and she wavered unsteadily when she heard hushed voices. She took a deep breath and peered through the opening. She witnessed an intimate scene very close to where she stood. Her blood ran cold.
The beautiful emergency room intern Christine Davis, better known as Cricket, and Charlotte’s fiancé Samuel, also a surgeon, lay in their bed embracing. Charlotte clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle a cry. She knew she should go, yet she remained riveted where she stood. The sight crippled her. Samuel lay on his back with Cricket straddling his hips, kissing him deeply and hungrily. She could not tear herself away from the vision of her fiancé and the beautiful woman with blonde hair streaked with golden strands pulled into a haphazard bun. Charlotte had seen her on many occasions in the hospital and knew that the statuesque intern had captivating dark eyes that contrasted with pale milky skin.
However, Charlotte did not give herself enough credit. Also tall and willowy, long radiant raven curls cascaded down her back. Her light cat-like green eyes captivated many men. Her heart-shaped face deserved more than a casual glance.
Charlotte stared, frozen with great suffering and distress, the air trapped in her lungs. The erotic image of her fiancé’s strong fingers cupping his lover’s voluptuous breasts would be forever scarred in her memory, as would Samuel’s face taut with sensuality as he pleasured his mistress. She took a stumbling step backward, a sick fury cramping her heart and soul.
When Cricket gave another moan of desire, Charlotte choked back a sob and forced her feet to move. Turning, she fled down the hall before they could see her. She didn’t know how she made it back to the front door. How could he make love to his mistress in their bed? The bed where he’d shown her so many hours of indescribable pleasure—where they had built a bond of tenderness and trust between them...
Betrayal seared like acid inside her, while a fierce pain raked her heart. Cold and sick inside, tumultuous emotions afflicted her, one blending into another. An awful pain in her heart and a heaviness in her chest threatened to cut off her breath.
“Samuel...” she whispered in agony.
But as much as Samuel’s devastating betrayal hurt, the knowledge that she should have seen Samuel’s betrayal coming, have anticipated its arrival, depressed her. She had only been deluding herself to think that her handsome fiancé had ever truly loved her or that he might be faithful to her. She should not be so shattered. She had always been a strong, career-oriented woman—one who would never allow herself to get caught up in girlish romantic fantasies.
Or so she had thought. One look from the dark brooding surgeon and she’d practically swooned in his arms. Following a whirlwind courtship, he’d proposed after a mere six months. Charlotte had felt like the luckiest woman alive.
She should have known better than to fall for such a romantic illusion of a man. But as much as his betrayal had hurt her, she became determined to not allow him to destroy her. Dr. Charlotte Liddell—strong, independent career woman—did not need Samuel Robertson. Even as she pounded the words through her brain, they were hollow and unconvincing. She realized that Samuel had destroyed her. The flagrant betrayal had left her heart and soul in shreds.
She would not die, even though pain seared through her. She could endure it. She would have to harden her heart, develop thick calluses around it, if she were to survive this poor imitation of an engagement. She would never let Samuel know how deeply he had wounded her. She could not face him just now. She made her way to the front door and opened it. She picked up the suitcase she had left there and quickly exited the apartment. Her spine stiffening, Charlotte returned to her car in the parking garage and slid behind the wheel. As her red Honda Pilot drove away, coldness crept through her body. Stone lay where her heart belonged, numbing the pain. She felt fortunate that her two weeks’ vacation began tomorrow.Can I just pick up and start a whole new life? What I need is to go to a place to recover—a respite from my ruined life. Charlotte loved to study Civil War history. She took the fastest route, heading to her refuge, the historic Marshall House hotel which was only a short drive away. Once there she would have plenty of time to gather up the remnants of her failed engagement and shut Samuel out of her life forever. She looked out the windshield of the car and saw a shooting star streak across the black oblivion of the nighttime sky and could not resist throwing a silent wish heavenward.I really want a new life... A different life...
****
Upon her arrival sheonce more reveled in its gorgeous architecture, stunning wrought iron, and romantic atmosphere. She immersed herself in the hotel’s sheer beauty and cozy ambience, admiring its stunning original features such as the period doors and staircases and the carefully reconstructed spaces like the classically Southern veranda complete with wooden rocking chairs and green shutters off the hotel’s popular Broughton rooms. The hotel still had bathrooms with antique claw-foot tubs.What more can I want?Charlotte asked the hotel clerk for a room on the fourth floor where she knew Union General William Tecumseh Sherman had established a hospital for wounded soldiers during the Civil War.
Before seeking her dinner, Charlotte made her way to the parlor to enjoy a complimentary wine and cheese event while she listened to Professor Annabelle from Savannah State University give a lecture about the history of the Marshall House Hotel. It appeared as though the older woman with gray hair and kind blue eyes had truly traveled back in time to 1864—the year she spoke about.
Charlotte remained behind after the other guests had left. She wanted to converse with the fascinating expert to try to find out more about her. She made her way toward the professor after the bustling room had emptied.
“Excuse me, Professor. I’m Charlotte Liddell and I just wanted to congratulate you on your captivating lecture. I have studied the history of the hotel but never knew that Sherman’s soldiers cut up the furniture to use it for firewood,” Charlotte said.
“Thank you so much! Yes, most people don’t know that. I completely understand your shock,” the professor replied.
“I know I sound crazy, but ... but I feel deep down that I have always known you,” Charlotte admitted.
“You don’t, my dear, for I feel the same way. In fact, I have a very strong premonition that we will meet again.”
“So do I, but how can that be?” Charlotte questioned.
“I believe that we are fated to meet again,” the professor replied.
“Well, I hope we do! I don’t want to take up more of your time. I’m sure you have a very busy schedule,” Charlotte said.
“Don’t worry about that. Lovely to meet you, Charlotte. I’m sure we will be seeing each other very soon. Call me Annabelle,” the older woman said.
“Of course, if you wish. Take care of yourself,” Charlotte said.
“I certainly will, my dear. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye.”
On impulse Charlotte gave the other woman a big hug, then turned and walked out of the parlor.
****
