SAM DIDN’T MISS Emma’s raised eyebrows and Victoria’s subtle shake of her head. Emma turned back to Rayne. “That’s too bad, Rayne. If anything changes, I hope you’ll reconsider. Especially since I want you to meet Sophie. You two must sing together.”
Rayne shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“I didn’t know you could sing,” Sam said.
Rayne gave him a smile. “It’s a hobby.”
Emma and Victoria both made choking sounds and Sam narrowed his eyes. The ladies covered their mouths with their napkins and composed themselves.
“Well, is anyone up for a game of charades?” Quincy laid his napkin on the table.
Emma pushed her chair back with a scrape. “I am.”
“I thought I might take Rayne for a walk.” Sam stood and held his hand out to her.
Rayne blinked, attempting to keep her surprise hidden. “You did?”
“Yes, if you’d like to.”
Rayne shrugged. “Why not?”
The group dispersed and Sam assisted Rayne with her coat and gloves. He led her out the front door and she slipped her hand into his arm.
Sam squeezed her hand. “How did Emma know you sing?”
Rayne shrugged. “We discussed it.”
“Do you know each other?”
“No. I just met her today.”
He glanced at her. “How is it that you just met her and she knows that you sing, but it hasn’t come up in our conversations?”
She cocked her head. “You never asked, I suppose.”
“Is that all?” he asked quietly.
“What’s with the inquisition?” She sighed. “Why do I feel like I’m one of your prisoners?”
“Perhaps because you’re being evasive.”
Slipping her hand out of his arm, she stopped walking. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sam tried to school his features as he stared down at her. “Something else is going on here, Rayne, and I’d like you to tell me what it is.”
“I can’t.”
Sam crossed his arms. “Or you won’t.”
Rayne sighed again. “What does it matter if it’s ‘can’t’ or ‘won’t’?”
“It matters, Rayne. If you don’t know that by now, you haven’t been listening.”
“Fine. I won’t,” she snapped.
He dragged his hands down his face. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“I’ve already told you why, Sam.” Rayne bit her lip. “Why is it so difficult for you to accept?”
“Because all is not as it seems.” Sam focused back on her. “And if we are going to be married—”
“Wh-what?” Throwing her hands up in the air, she let out a squeal of frustration. “We are not getting married!”
Sam smiled. “If we are to be married, I should know all of your secrets.”
Before Rayne could comment, he leaned down and kissed her. She grasped onto the lapels of his jacket and he tightened his hold to keep her from falling. He teased her mouth with his tongue and she wove her arms around his neck, melting into him. When he broke the kiss, she stepped back and scowled. “Now, why the hell did you go and do that?”
Sam still had hold of her hand and he grinned. “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you.”
“You can’t do this, Sam.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “It can’t happen.”
Before he knew what was happening, she ripped her hand from his and made a run for the house. “Rayne!”
* * *
Rayne pushed the front door open and swore internally when she ran into Quincy Butler. He smiled and Rayne could see why Victoria had fallen in love with him. He was tall, with dark hair, almost black, and deep-green eyes. He had an easiness about him, and she’d already seen his sense of humor with the way he and Victoria bantered back and forth.
“Miss Green?” He raised an eyebrow. “Is everything all right?”
Rayne forced a smile. “Yes, fine. Sam and I decided to cut our walk short.”
As if on cue, the door opened and Sam stepped into the foyer. “Rayne?”
Quincy grinned. “I hear you cut your walk short. Why don’t you both join us?”
Rayne bit her lip. “I’m feeling a headache coming on—”
“We’d love to join everyone,” Sam interrupted. He laid his hand on Rayne’s lower back and pushed her toward the room.
Quincy walked into the parlor and Rayne stepped away from Sam. “Stop it. I want to go to bed.”
“No you don’t. You want to run away from me.”
Rayne shrugged. “Semantics.”
“Humor me, Rayne.” He slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “I’d like to spend the rest of the evening with my fiancée.”
Rayne pulled her hand away. “We are not getting married.”
“We’ll see.” Sam chuckled and kissed her cheek. “I don’t have to leave for an hour, so please spend it with me.”
Rayne couldn’t resist him and hated that she couldn’t. It seemed the harder she fought to resist him the harder she fell. Her heart reached for his and with every smile he captivated it more and more. “You have one hour.”
Sam led her into the parlor, where she spent the rest of the evening attempting to follow conversations pertaining to their current state of affairs. She found herself wishing she’d paid more attention in history class.
* * *
Sam sent a note the next morning that he would see Rayne at dinner. She was surprisingly disappointed that she’d have to wait that long to see him, and her disappointment concerned her. If she didn’t get home soon, she might actually fall in love with the man.
The dinner hour arrived, finally. Rayne sat in the parlor and stared into her glass of wine, sipping on occasion, but all the while wishing it were a glass of scotch. Hearing male voices in the foyer, her heart raced and her stomach fluttered and then he was there… standing in the doorway, looking cuter than should be legal, and she knew she was lost.
She rose to her feet and took him in. He wore black trousers and a black jacket, with a stark white cravat and black dress shoes. His blonde hair was brushed away from his face, and his blue eyes bore into her as he smiled and raked his gaze over her.
She moved toward him, like a magnet to steel, as he greeted the rest of the group. She reached his side and his hand clasped hers as he nodded at something Quincy had just said.
When they finished their conversation, Sam faced her. “Good evening, Rayne.” He raised her hand to his lips and smiled against her fingers as he kissed them. “I trust your day was agreeable.”
She nodded. “Sure. Agreeable works.”
Sam lowered her hand but continued to grasp it as they moved into the parlor.
“Where’s Crow?”
Sam assisted her to the sofa. “He’s tracking.”
Rayne frowned. “Is someone lost?”
Sam smiled gently. “Yes. But he’ll find him.”
“Is it a bad guy?” she whispered.
Sam raised an eyebrow as he sat next to her. “So many questions tonight, sweetheart.”
Rayne bit her lip. “Sorry.”
“Rayne?” Victoria drew focus to the other side of the room. “Will you sing for us after dinner?”
Rayne felt heat creep up her neck. “Um… uh… maybe.”
Before Victoria could insist, dinner was announced. Sam stood and held his hand out to Rayne. She took it and let him pull her from the sofa. Christopher and Quincy sat at opposite ends of the table, their wives to their right. Clayton and Emma sat across from Sam and Rayne, and Rayne felt Sam’s hand on hers several times throughout dinner. The table hid their secret touch and heightened Rayne’s attraction to him.
When dinner concluded, the group made their way back to the parlor. Victoria cornered Rayne and grasped her arm. “Please sing for us.”
“What would I sing? I don’t know any of the current songs.”
“Sing one of yours.”
Rayne narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Seriously?”
Victoria nodded. “Yes. Christopher has a pianoforte, which means whatever you play will sound old-fashioned. No one will know. Sing one of your slower ones. If I’m allowed to make a request, I’d really like to hear ‘Love Gone.’”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
Victoria grinned. “No way. I have Rayne Green sitting in my friend’s living room, and I’m going to take full advantage of it.”
Rayne sighed. “Fine. One song.”
Victoria let out a quiet squeal. “Yay.” She pulled Rayne to the pianoforte and faced the group. “Everyone. Rayne has graciously agreed to sing for us tonight. I have requested a song, and you’re in for a treat.”
Rayne sat on the piano bench and took a deep breath. From the first note to the last, she let herself disappear into the music. Victoria had requested Rayne’s favorite song, written at a time when she was certain she’d never find love.
She hit the last note on the keyboard, squeezed her eyes shut briefly, and then faced the group. She would have never guessed six people clapping could sound so full. However, it wasn’t lost on her that the seventh sat quietly in the corner, watching her with an expression she couldn’t interpret.
Victoria pulled her in for a hug, followed by Emma and Hannah. “That was amazing!” Emma said. “You will definitely have to sing with Sophie.”
Rayne smiled and listened as they raved, all the while watching Sam, concerned about his sudden withdrawal. He rose to his feet and smiled, a strange smile, and slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Rayne broke away from the small group and started toward him.
Sam turned to Christopher. “Thank you for dinner, Chris. I should take my leave now.”
Rayne’s heart dropped.
“Rayne? Will you walk me out, please?” Sam asked.
Rayne nodded and followed him into the foyer. “Why so early, Sam? We could have visited well past midnight, you know. I can’t really do the whole early to bed, early to rise thing, anyway. It’s not in my nature. I’m a late-to-bed, late-to-rise kinda gal.”
Sam faced her and narrowed his eyes. “How do you know Victoria?”
Rayne frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Victoria said that she knew a friend of yours… that you’d never met before.”
“So?”
Sam crossed his arms. “So, how did she know you enough to request a song? One that I have never heard before, but one that both Mrs. Madden and Mrs. Butler knew the words to?”
Rayne bit her lip. “You’d have to ask them.”
Sam grasped her arm. “I’m asking you.”
Rayne sighed. “I can’t tell you, Sam.”
“I’m going to marry you, Rayne. Of course, you’re going to tell me.”
Rayne pulled away from him. “You are not going to marry me, and I’m not going to tell you.” Rushing up the stairs and into her bedroom, she closed the door and took several deep breaths. Without warning, she felt the door press on her back and she spun to find Sam slipping inside. “What are you doing?” she whispered angrily.
He closed the door and faced her. “We’re going to talk, Rayne.”
She pointed to the door with a growl. “Get out.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Crossing her arms, she scowled. “What are we going to talk about?”
Sam mimicked her stance and raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to tell me everything and I’m not leaving until you do.”
“Well, then I am.” Rayne moved toward the door.
Sam twisted the key in the lock and pocketed it. “You’re not going anywhere.”
She went for him, but he caught her hand before she reached him. “Give me the key.”
Sam shook his head. “Not until we talk.”
Rayne swore and thrust her palm out. “Give me the key.”
“Tell me what’s going on, Rayne, and you can have the key.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t tell you, Sam.”
He stepped forward. “Why not? You seem to have told everyone else.”
Rayne shook her head. “That’s not fair, Sam. You don’t know the circumstances.”
“Only because you refuse to tell me them!”
She couldn’t stop the tears and stood before him, frightened of what would happen if she didn’t tell him… and just as frightened of what would happen if she did.
He pulled her into his arms and stroked her back. “You can tell me anything.”
She groaned. “I met you a week ago. I don’t know you.”
“Perhaps not, but I know me and I’m very trustworthy.”
Rayne tried to move very slowly. She had him exactly where she wanted him. Just one inch more and she’d have the key.
Without warning, he grabbed the hand going for his pocket. “Nice try.” Rayne swore, but Sam chuckled in response.
“I’ll scream.”
“Go right ahead.” He stroked her cheek. “Just tell me everything, Rayne, and you’ll be free.”
She shook her head. “You won’t believe me.”
“If I promise to believe you, will you tell me?”
She dropped her head onto his chest. “It’s not that simple.”
“Try, Rayne.”
Knowing he wouldn’t believe her, she felt perhaps she could use that to her advantage. Once she told him everything, he’d leave her alone and she’d be free to go home without any attachments.
“Fine. Have a seat.” Sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace, he pointed to the other, and she sat facing him. “I don’t know why you’re insisting on this, Sam. You’re not going to believe a word I say.”
“Let me decide that.”
“I’m not from this time.” She paused, but he didn’t comment, so she continued, “I’m from the year two thousand and eighteen. I am a multi-million-dollar recording artist and I sing onstage for a living. A very good living, actually. I was performing the night I found myself drugged and in your jail. The reason Victoria knew who I was is because everyone knows who I am.”
He leaned his elbows on the chair, his fingers forming a tent. “In the future.”
“Yes, in the future.”
Leaning back in his chair, he crossed an ankle over his knee. “How is this possible?”
Rayne shrugged. “I don’t know. Jared tricked me into an old building, he drugged me, and as I ran to escape, I ended up in a strange room. Before I knew what was happening, I was lying in the mud. That’s the last thing I remember before waking up to Scarface.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Lyle?”
“Yes, Lyle.” Rayne leaned forward. “But I need to go home, Sam. I can’t live in this century.”
“Why not?”
Rayne sank further into the chair. “Because it’s not me and I don’t belong here. I’m not an innocent young woman who will submit to the authority of men.”
“How much different is it in the future?”
“For one, women have the right to vote and we pretty much run our own lives.”
He picked at a thread on his trousers. “So, are you concerned that if you stay here, in this time, you’ll lose your independence?”
Rayne sighed. “I won’t lose it because I’m not staying.”
“You wouldn’t have to give it up if you stayed here.”
“Right. You don’t run the world, Sam.”
He chuckled quietly.
“It’s not just that,” she whispered.
“What else?”
“We also no longer wait until marriage to have sex.”
“Women in this century often don’t either,” Sam pointed out.
“But if they don’t, they’re considered whores.”
He didn’t agree or disagree with that. “What about you, Rayne?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”
“Have you lain with a man?”
“Yes, I have. Two in fact.” She delivered her answer with a sick sense of glee. He’d leave now, she was certain of it.
* * *
Sam nodded as he leaned forward in the chair and rested his arms on his knees again. He didn’t speak, just sat staring at the fire burning in front of them. His heart broke for her… and him. She was insane. It was clear now. He rose to his feet and made his way to the door. Sliding the key into the lock he opened it and faced her. “It’s all right, Rayne, I’ll take care of everything.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
He closed the distance and pulled her into his arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, sweetheart.”
Sam left her room and made his way downstairs. He peered into the parlor and waved Clayton over. Clayton frowned as he stepped into the foyer. “What’s amiss? I thought you were leaving.”
Sam nodded. “May I have a private word?”
“Of course. We’ll use Chris’s office.”
* * *
Rayne wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing in the middle of her room, flabbergasted by Sam’s reaction. She wasn’t sure if she should be nervous or relieved. Her answer came in the form of Victoria pushing her door open. “We have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” Rayne asked.
Victoria frowned. “Sam thinks you’re insane.”
“Wh-what? What do you mean?”
“He told Clayton he was going to bring a doctor by to examine you tomorrow. He feels that, as your fiancé, it’s his responsibility to take care of you.”
Rayne swore. “He is not my fiancé.”
Victoria grimaced. “You’ve gotta give him credit. He’s not running away.”
“Oh, stop it, Victoria. He’s the insane one if he thinks just by telling people we’re engaged that it’s true.” Rayne started to pace. “Your little prophecy might come true!”
“Which one?”
“Cross-beams and stocks, and such.” Rayne bit her lip. “What does he think he’s going to accomplish by having a doctor look at me?”
“I don’t know Rayne, but we need to act quickly. Sam’s got money and influence and could make trouble… regardless of his good intentions.”
Rayne wrapped her arms around her middle. “What am I supposed to do? I don’t know anything about this time.”
Victoria squeezed her upper arm. “Don’t worry… we have a plan.”
“Who’s we…” Rayne sighed, “… and what’s the plan?”
“Me and Emma. We’re going to get you home.”
“Is that necessary? Why not just tell him the truth? With you guys backing me up, he’ll have to believe me.”
Victoria’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve changed your mind?”
Rayne shook her head. “No. I guess I just don’t know why we can’t tell him.”
“Look, if he brings a doctor by, the damage could be done before we have a chance to explain, so at the very least, we need to get you out of town for a little while.” Victoria pulled Rayne’s backpack from the wardrobe. “Clayton’s going to help.”
“Seriously?” Rayne flopped onto the bed. “How?”
“Emma’s going to take you to Sophie.”
“Victoria?” Quincy called from the hallway.
She pulled Rayne from the bed and started to unbutton her dress. “Just helping Rayne with her clothing, honey. I’ll see you in a minute.”
Rayne grasped one of the bedposts. “Who’s Sophie again?”
“She’s Emma’s sister. She’ll know how to contact Madame and figure out how to get you back. We’ll make sure Sam doesn’t know where you are.”
Rayne turned her head. “I thought you liked him.”
“I adore him, and he’d make a great husband, but probably not as good if he thinks you’re insane.”
“Victoria!” Rayne groaned.
Victoria handed Rayne a nightgown. “Sorry… bad joke.”
Rayne raised an eyebrow as she unhooked her stays and pulled the corset from her waist. “What time tomorrow?”
“Clayton and Emma will be here at nine.” Victoria smiled. “Don’t worry, Rayne. Sophie will take care of everything.”
Victoria left her and Rayne climbed into bed and fell into a fitful sleep.