Page 60 of The Runner
She walked and walked until dusk turned into night and the autumn leaves were coated in darkness and the stars sparkled in the dark velvet blue sky like an artist’s canvas.
Cara was in the unique position of knowing what was happening in the present day and in this timeline, but although she was no longer merely an observer, she still felt impotent to influence George. She had too much of Caroline’s demure eighteenth-century consciousness to be bold enough to risk the wrath of the family.
Something rustled behind her, and she jumped; the fine hairs on her skin standing on end as a frisson of fear ran through her body and the adrenaline kicked in.
She took a deep breath to calm herself—it was probably only the sound of the birds in the trees, or perhaps a squirrel burrowing down for the night. But then she heard his voice.
‘Caroline—is that you?’
She started and turned to see George approaching quickly.
‘Whatever are you doing out here alone in the dark?’ he said, coming to a stop next to her.
‘I enjoy walking around the estate—I find it difficult to be cooped up indoors.’
‘Indeed. As do I. I was just taking an evening stroll and I caught sight of—well, I thought my eyes must deceive me because no sensible young woman would be out at this hour unescorted, but no… there you are in all your stubborn independence—refusing to be tamed. I must confess I both admire and despair of this trait of yours in equal measure.’ He shook his head.
A fierce blush stung her cheeks, and she was grateful he wouldn’t be able to behold her face clearly in the darkness. She had Cara’s awareness, but still the fact remained that she was a young and inexperienced woman: gauche in the ways of romantic love and overwhelmed by George’s witty sophistication and superior birth. She did not know how to reply and shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other, but this was the most he had said to her in weeks. His hard shell of an exterior had partially cracked, so perhaps this was her opportunity to reach him.
‘I will return to court,’ he continued before she could speak. ‘I must tell you what is in my heart, Caroline, for we will not have this chance to speak openly before long.’ He wrung his hands as he spoke and then let them fall loosely at his sides. The moon had risen and cast shadows across the hollows in his cheekbones.
She stared at him, not knowing what to expect, her senses crashing and overwhelming her as she waited for him to speak again.
‘I have faced an inner battle these past months… ever since you first came into my life like an angel.’ He raised his head to meet her eyes, and it was as though he reached into her soul.
She shivered.
‘You are cold,’ he said, and removed his cloak and draped it around her shoulders, covering her cloak, before she could refuse. She was cold—and then she was hot—and then cold. She knew not what she was as she waited for him to reveal what was in his heart. Memories of them together in the past and the future enveloped her like a storm cloud until she was disorientated and knew not what to do or say.
He continued, undeterred. ‘I love you, Caroline. I do not know how it happened or why it happened… what curious spell you have cast over me to make me love you so utterly and completely when in some ways we barely know each other.’
Cara bowed her head as the tears slid from her eyes and cascaded down her cold cheeks, unbidden. She knew what was coming. They had been in this conversation before when they fell in love in the present day. This was deja-vu in reverse time.
He loved her, but…
She knew only too well where this was going, and the pain shot through her as she realised she would be powerless to stop him once he made up his mind. His will was ironclad when it came to his duty. He clearly saw Charlotte as part of his duty to his bloodline, and what could she—a lowly governess—say to dissuade him from his noble cause?
George, we will be married one hundred and eleven years from now, as well as three hundred years into the future, and we were married two hundred years ago, and it’s likely that we’ve shared multiple past lives and were together two thousand years ago…
No—that would not work! He would think her completely deranged and she couldn’t risk that happening in the eighteenth century, no matter how much she trusted him. History had not been kind to women with mental illness or those who bore any uncommon trait or mark of uniqueness. She could be accused of being a witch, or perhaps even worse; mad, and committed to a mental asylum. Not that she thought George was the sort of man to allow something evil like that to occur, but she wouldn’t risk putting them both in such a precarious position. He was not his usual, steady self, and who knew what he might do?
‘You were astute when you accused me of caring only for my reputation. I have thought of little else over the past weeks and have tried to find a way out of this dark hole I find myself in, but alas, there is no way out. We are from different stations in life… and we are simply not meant to be together. Fate merely taunted me with the possibility of you, while simultaneously coming between us.’
He kicked the earth with his leather boot, sending a stone hurtling across the ground and down to the bubbling stream that ran through the estate.
‘Our classes do not marry. It is not only my reputation and that of my family I seek to protect. It is yours too. Society will never accept us. Your own as well as mine would shun you. I cannot do that to you.’
He extended his arm to touch her face, and the tears seeped onto his fingers. ‘My words have made you cry…’
She sniffed and wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself. ‘I am sorry to have caused you such distress. It was never and will never be my intent—I hope you know that.’ Her emotions took over, and she spoke without checking herself.
George took a step closer to her and before she could say another word; he ran his finger across her lips and pulled her into his arms and his lips were on hers and he kissed her harder and deeper than the kiss they had shared in the kitchen. He let himself go, and she returned his ardour with abandon. Their kiss was sweet and familiar—like coming home, as the centuries of passion connected them.
‘Why do I feel like we’ve done that many times before?’ he said, when he gently pulled away but still held her in his arms, unwilling to sever their connection.
We are Twin Flames—our souls are destined to unite in every shared timeline,thought Cara.
She couldn’t overcome her reluctance to bare her soul, and the words died on her tongue. And she remained silent.
