Page 62 of The Runner
He grasped her arm and pulled her back to face him as she moved towards her chamber. ‘I think it is obvious to us both that I love you. But it is no good… I cannot do it. I will not bring shame upon my family for my own selfish desires.’
‘I see, so you are ashamed of me…’
‘Caroline! That’s not what I meant, and it is cruelly unfair.’
‘Perhaps it’s not what you meant, but it is what you inferred, my lord.’
She tugged her arm and freed herself from his grip, looking at him one last time before closing the door firmly behind her, and turning the heavy silver key in the lock. He looked like a broken man and her heart twisted in agony as she stood with her back against the door.
Had she broken him by coming from the twenty-first century to deliver a message with which he was not equipped to deal?
She threw herself on the large four poster bed and pulled the green counterpane over her head and sobbed silently. She lay like that for hours and was grateful Olivia was engaged with her mother today, for she had not the strength to face her and pretend all was well.
She was filled with intense feelings of loss and dread, and her chest heaved so she could barely draw breath. Then the room began to spin, and she saw flashes of her past and future. Images of her and George together in different timelines filled her consciousness until she could no longer think straight, and her head seemed like it would explode. And then she heard a familiar whirring sound and a cloud of freezing cold air enveloped her.
No! How can this be happening? The vortex doesn’t take me from this timeline. I need to be here to fix this nightmare.
But then she was gone.
Willow Manor,Tudor Heritage Centre, York - Present day
There wasa good turnout for the grand opening, with healthy press coverage which generated interest in the Cavendish stately home and the family’s link to the Tudor court and Henry VIII. The centre was bustling, and visitors milled about admiring the exhibits, which had been meticulously curated by Kate and George.
‘The place looks terrific,’ said Cara to George as she took a sip of the pink prosecco the server handed to her as she arrived.
‘Doesn’t it just? What do you make of the ceiling?’ he asked.
‘I didn’t even realise there were Tudor beams in the barn,’ she said. ‘How wonderfully authentic it all looks.’
‘The builders really outdid themselves with the exposed beams,’ said George with a satisfied smile.
The barn had been transformed into a light and impressive space, with its old Tudor features brought back to life. Kate had decorated the place tastefully, with a sprinkling of locally sourced antiques, wall tapestries, and artful lighting to draw the eye to the exhibits.
They moved around the centre, catching up with old friends and acquaintances and welcoming unfamiliar faces. A line had formed by the priest hole exhibit and visitors were being funnelled through to the library to see it for themselves after reading about the Jesuit priest who had been saved from certain execution by the now legendary Cavendish tutor.
‘Do you know the name of the tutor who saved the priest?’ enquired a reporter, eager to get an inside scoop for his article.
‘I’m afraid we haven’t been able to find out,’ said George, shaking his head.
The reporter looked disappointed and trailed out of the centre after the others on the quest to see the priest hole.
‘We don’t want anyone digging about and noticing how many of the same names we had in those days,’ said Cara, quietly. ‘Your name will come as no great surprise with so many of your lineage named George, but the fact that your Tudor ancestor also married a woman named Cara is quite odd. Add to that, another Edward Makepeace, and we may arouse suspicion. You know what reporters are like.’
‘True,’ said George. ‘And historians,’ he smiled. ‘I hadn’t given it much thought, but you’re right. Although, I shouldn’t think it’ll be a problem. When I researched the priest, I couldn’t find anything beyond what we read in the family history book. Besides, are people likely to jump to the conclusion we’re time travellers, just like that?’
Cara saw a beaming face heading towards them.
‘Lord and Lady Cavendish,’ Sylvia said in a low, warm voice as she approached them with outstretched arms. ‘How wonderful to see you back at your family estate where you belong.’
They hugged and Sylviatoasted them withher glass of prosecco, her dangling earrings twinkling in the light as she talked. ‘May you have many happy years together in your beautiful home.’
Cara jumped as a hand touched her shoulder. ‘Eddie! There you are. I would have come to get you from the station.’
‘I wouldn’t miss this for the world,’ he said. ‘Or even for those pesky students of mine. The train from London got in a bit late, so I grabbed a taxi. How’s it going?’
Cara filled him in on the reporter asking for his name, and then led him with exaggerated ceremony towards the elevated exhibit which explained about the tutor and the priest.
‘How marvellous,’ he said, the pride evident on his face, and his cheeks pink. ‘Even though I don’t remember how we rescued him, I am proud we accomplished something so significant.’
