Claire thought she might even manage to cross without getting wet feet, but the water was just deep enough to slosh over the tops of her boots and run down inside. With a grimace she found her way to the shallow water on the far side and took one step out and on to the bare desolate ground of the island.
It happened the other way around this time.
The overexposed picture began to come into focus, quickly gaining colour and definition. It was night-time here just as it was in the present, but there was a sense of life, of movement, all about her. The scent of lavender was strong in the air and she realized that once again she was standing among the thick bushes. An owl hooted and something snuffled in the flowerbeds, small feet running swiftly. The little dog whimpered in her arms and she hushed it, gently holding its muzzle so it couldn’t bark.
She was back.
Claire moved forwards, along the path that wound through the fragrant garden and up towards the homestead. Above her the same storm she’d just left behind – or was it a different one? – was rattling the heavens. That sense of waiting sent shivers across her skin. The homestead was in darkness but it wasn’t deserted, it wasn’t empty.
It was waiting.
Waiting for her?
A candle flickered in one of the windows, as if someone was still up, but there was no sound. She stepped onwards, reaching out her hand towards the verandah post, to touch, to feel.
“It’s you. You’ve come back.”
The voice came out of the shadows before her. Claire stood, frozen, as he stepped towards her, his face a pale blur beneathhis dark hair. The dog struggled, sensing that something was very wrong, but Claire held on to it.
“Where did you go?” There was something threatening in his voice. “Everyone has been searching for you, Helen. They’re blaming Niall.”
Because this wasn’t Niall. As if a shattered window suddenly began to reform in her mind, bit by bit, she saw the truth. This handsome man was Maurice, Niall’s cousin and his foreman, and she’d been stupid enough to spend one night in his bed. She’d done it in revenge for all the women Niall betrayed her with, but this man would not accept that. He’d always been jealous of Niall and one night made her his. He threatened to tell Niall, to blackmail her, he threatened to make her life a misery if she did not give him what he wanted.
So she was leaving him, and Niall.
“Helen?” he groaned. “You know if I can’t have you then no one can.”
“Yes. I am Helen.” Her voice was a whisper.
The dog struggled again and he noticed it for the first time. “Moppet?” he said angrily. “You came back for Moppet?”
Of course, this was Moppet, her dog. “I could never leave Moppet.”
Her placing her dog above him seemed to infuriate him even more. “Where have you been? Tell me the truth.”
“Through time,” she said, and laughed.
His features went hard, and suddenly he was no longer handsome.
Fear streaked through her, and Claire turned and ran. Back down the path, back towards the line of water that separated his world from hers. His boots thumped on the path behind her, his breathing heavy and gaining.
His hand closed on her shoulder, fingers pressing hard into her skin, imprinting themselves upon her. He pulled her around and into the hard grasp of his arms. Moppet leaped to the ground and Claire was dragged against his chest, aware of the faint scent of cigars and leather.
She’d returned to the past only to die here . . .
“Claire!”
Faint, desperate, a voice she knew like her own heart.
She began to fight Maurice. A flash of lightning showed his face and the determination to finish what he’d started all those years ago – or was it only an hour or two?
“Let her go!”
Suddenly Gabe was ripping her out of Maurice’s grip, knocking him backwards so that he fell heavily into the shrubs. Claire was gasping, stumbling into his arms, and Moppet was barking wildly. The little dog had been barking all along, she realized, but she’d been too occupied to really hear its cries for help.
“Come on,” Gabe said, voice rising against the growl of thunder.
And then Gabe was leading her through the water of the moat and the past was fading away behind her. A moment later they were standing on the baked surface of the reservoir, lightning and thunder creating havoc around them.
