Page 6 of The Swan Syndicate #1

Beckworth, a duffel slung over his shoulder, strode down the path that led from the inn to a lone dock in a private bay.

Finn and Ethan matched his pace. The quiet bay was deep enough to have once moored the Daphne Marie , an eighteenth-century tall ship that Finn brought through the fog when first arriving in this century.

There was a second path on the other side of the inn that ended at a tidal pool.

When the tide was out, it offered a narrow beach from which to search the pools.

AJ had once told him that her father had brought her there often when she was a child, and the inn seemed an appropriate home for Finn, who’d left his ship behind when he decided to live in her timeline.

Beckworth glanced over his shoulder at the women who walked with Sebastian. “Is AJ alright with this?”

“She’s had time to get past her fear for you and Stella. It’s difficult to remember the past without thinking about the stones and keeping one eye over your shoulder.”

“I’m somewhat aware of that feeling.” They’d all been impacted by the stones, but they’d landed on their feet—luck or fate on their side.

“To be fair, Stella was a bit on the fence about it, but the more we talked about it, the more she remembered the good times we had. She’s excited about seeing Waverly’s gardens. ”

“I think Maire is a bit jealous she’s not going.

” Ethan walked with his hands in his pockets.

When Beckworth first met him, Ethan had been uptight and rigid.

Over the last couple of weeks, it was easy to see the change in him.

He was almost as relaxed as Finn, and Beckworth imagined Maire played a large part in his transformation.

“Maybe next time we could all go for a short trip. I’ve found it more difficult than I thought to leave so many friends behind.” But he’d do it all over again to be with Stella. If this trip went well, perhaps they could have the best of both worlds.

“There’s one thing we wanted to share with you before you jumped.

” Finn’s tone turned serious, and Beckworth wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what was coming.

“It could be different than our experience since the troubles with the stones are behind us, but you might discover yourself overly protective of Stella.”

“If I remember correctly, I spent most of the time keeping Gemini away from her. To the point of turning myself over in exchange for her.”

Ethan nodded. “True. But you’ve spent, what, about nine months in this time period now. Between this time and the women’s proven ability to handle themselves in difficult situations, we still need to be the protectors—more so in the past than in this timeline.”

Beckworth understood what they were attempting to say, though he didn’t believe there was any difference. Besides, the trip was a holiday, not running for their lives.

Finn patted him on the back. “I see your doubts. All we can do is share our experience. It’s up to you on how you handle it. Because trust me, whether in peacetime or war, you’ll need to be prepared.”

Both men chuckled as they left him on the dock. He was still mulling over their words, believing them to be joking, when Sebastian joined him.

The monk pulled a stack of letters from his pocket and handed them to Beckworth. “I was wondering if you could give these to Hensley. The top one provides directions on where to send the letters. There are five in all.”

Beckworth noted the parchment on which the letters were written. “Did you bring this paper with you from the past or did Maire?”

“They’re from my journal.” He scratched his head and peered back at the others, who were saying their goodbyes to Stella. “I was wondering, if you have the time and remember, could you bring me more paper and a new journal?”

Beckworth eyed the old monk. “You know there’s better paper and writing instruments in this time period.”

“Oh, yes, and I use them almost exclusively.” He held out his hands. “Some of the ink stains from the quill are beginning to fade. Oh, that reminds me. I could use a few more quills and ink pots. Maire has located some, but the quality isn’t the same.”

Beckworth studied Sebastian, whose eyes sparkled with mischief. “You old dog. You knew if I came to the future, I’d end up going back.”

Sebastian only smiled. “Hensley might have a message or two for me. If you don’t mind bringing those back, I would appreciate it.”

“You expect me to play messenger between the two of you?”

The monk shrugged. “I’d go myself, but at my age, I find the travel too difficult.”

“You’re a crafty old man. When you gave Stella and me each a stone, you had this all laid out.”

He smiled and patted Beckworth’s hand. “I prefer to think of myself as a careful planner. Safe travels.” With that being said, he turned and shuffled back to the group as Stella made her way onto the dock.

The two stopped long enough for a hug and a few words before parting, then Stella stepped next to Beckworth.

“I take it you got his letters.” She winked at him.

“You knew what he was up to?”

“Not until last night. Who knew monks could be so devious?”

“It seems to be a trait we all share.”

She chuckled and pulled out the incantation before glancing at her ring. After releasing a long sigh, she asked, “You ready for this?”

“Have you been practicing your Celtic?”

She nodded. “I ran through it a few times last night with Sebastian and Maire. They say I’ve got it.”

“Okay.” He took her hand and turned them to face their friends.

Stella read the incantation, and he glanced over his shoulder. The fog was rolling in. Stella yelled, “Don’t forget the swans and fish I left for Charlotte.” Charlotte was AJ’s young niece, who was becoming an expert origami practitioner at the tender age of five.

AJ’s response was lost as the fog overtook them. Then, nothing but a light so bright, even with his eyes closed, they burned.

Stella’s grip tightened as the fog tore them away from this time period.

At one point, he was certain his insides were being ripped out.

The next, it seemed his organs were being squeezed in an attempt to make them implode.

When he didn’t think he could take anymore, the light receded as he slammed into the ground—hard.

Perhaps he would need to rethink the time traveling.

After dry heaving into the grass, he glanced up to see Stella pushing the duffel off her before rolling over into a fetal position.

When he regained his focus, he stared up into the smiling face of Fitz, the first mate of the Daphne Marie .

The young man nodded his head with apparent glee. “Looks like I won the bet.”

Waverly Manor, England - 1806

“ W hen did you grow a beard?” Stella had rolled over at the sound of Fitz’s voice and stared up at him. His face was upside down, but that was definitely a beard.

Fitz ran a hand over it and rocked back and forth on his heels. “Oh, I guess it was during the sail to Chepstow when we traveled to Hereford for Ethan and Maire’s wedding.” He stepped next to her and held out a hand. When he pulled her up, he added, “The ladies seem to like it.”

Stella gave him a long perusal and matched his smile. “I can see why.”

Beckworth snorted. “Good lord, woman, he doesn’t need to hear that.”

They all laughed as Beckworth picked up his duffel and Fitz retrieved Stella’s.

“How did you know to be waiting for us?” Beckworth asked. “I told Barrington the date we’d attempt, but I didn’t think he’d post men to watch for us.”

“He didn’t. I just happened to be on my way back from Eleanor’s when I saw the fog. That’s a sight you never forget.”

“And that’s what the bet was about?” Stella asked. Fitz would bet the sun wouldn’t rise in the morning if the odds were worth it. What she really wanted to know was why he was at Eleanor’s, but she’d find out soon enough.

He gave her a wolfish grin. “You know what they say about the luck of the Irish.”

Stella followed the men as they chattered about changes to the manor’s security now that the matter of the stones was over.

And there was a new foal from one of Beckworth’s prize stallions.

It wasn’t difficult to see he wanted to go straight to the stables, but he stayed the course as Fitz walked them through the kitchen.

Fitz stopped at the staff’s long dining table where a meat pie, a biscuit, and a mug she assumed was ale waited for him.

He gave the cook a kiss on her cheek, which made her blush, then he sat down.

“They’ll be in your west study. Last I heard, there was some disagreement on who to invite to the hunting party. ”

Beckworth stopped before turning for the stairs. “They haven’t sent the invitations yet?”

Fitz finished chewing his first bite of meat pie. “You’ll have to talk to Hensley about it. The hunt has been postponed for a fortnight.”

Stella glanced at Beckworth. His brows scrunched, forming those cute lines between his eyes. He didn’t respond and quickened his pace as he hurried up the stairs, leaving her to race behind him.

“Can you slow down? Where’s the fire?” she huffed, grateful she’d worn a used pair of old hiking boots she’d found at a thrift store. They were durable, comfortable, and plain enough to get by without much notice.

He paused when he reached the main floor and hooked his arm through hers. “I apologize. I suppose I was expecting a different homecoming.”

“Perhaps a more quiet one.”

He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Exactly.”

“And you thought the life of a viscount would be boring.”

“In retrospect, that was silly of me.” He stopped at the main staircase where Libby waited.

“It’s a pleasure to see the lord of the manor home safe and sound.” She curtsied.

Beckworth shook his head. “Good to see the staff still has a sense of humor.” From Stella’s understanding, he ran a very loose household compared to other aristocrats when he didn’t have guests. Libby always tested the boundaries.

Libby glanced past him to Stella. “Does Lady Stella want to go to her room to rest or join the men in the study?”

“I’m not ready to rest yet.” She held a hand over her belly. “I’m still waiting for my stomach to settle. What time is it, anyway? How soon before the next meal?”

“Lunch is still a couple of hours away. I’ll have cook send something to the study.” She winked at Beckworth. “It is good to have you home, sir.”

Beckworth touched her shoulder. “And it’s good to be home. Thank you, Libby.”

Fitz hadn’t mentioned who would be in the study, but apparently, Hensley had commandeered it. If Fitz was at the manor, then either Jamie, the captain of the Daphne Marie , or Lando, his second mate, could be there. She was hoping they all were.

But why postpone the hunting party? Hensley must be planning a mission. She glanced at Beckworth. There was a faraway look in his gaze along with a furrowed brow—he was processing.

“Are you sure you’d rather not go up and unpack?” he asked.

She passed him a look he knew all too well. “Not a chance in hell. I want to know what Hensley is up to as much as you do.”

“I’m sure the delay in the hunt is nothing more than finding a time when everyone will be available.”

“Uh-huh.”

He didn’t respond because they both knew he’d gloss over what they were both thinking.

Hensley didn’t get involved in weekend party arrangements.

That would be Mary’s task. While Beckworth led them deeper into the manor, stopping to say hello to any staff they ran into, she glanced in the rooms, wondering exactly where Hensley’s wife was.

Beckworth stopped in front of his study door, which was closed. He chuckled. “I’m not sure whether to knock. Being gone for almost nine months, and with Hensley here, it feels odd.”

She rubbed his arm. “It’s like we walked onto the set of the Twilight Zone .” He preferred the old black-and-white episodes to the newer versions. “You should probably knock, wait a heartbeat, and then walk in. This is still your manor, but the knock is polite.”

He stared into her eyes. Maybe they should both go upstairs and unpack.

Whatever waited for them behind the study door would still be there after they tested out the bed.

His gaze warmed, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.

His kiss was thorough, heated with passion, and ended far too soon.

“I can’t tell you how much it meant that you came home with me.”

She pushed a strand of loose hair back into his queue.

How most of it stayed intact through the fog was anyone’s guess.

Her hair had to be a mess. She ignored his comment about coming home.

This would always be his home. To her, it was more like a vacation home.

But a little kernel settled in the back of her brain, refusing to budge.

What would happen after the hunting party was over and it was time to go back to Baywood?

Before she could give it another thought, Beckworth gave a sharp rap on the door with his knuckles, waited a beat, then opened the door.

Five faces turned in their direction. It was obvious they hadn’t expected them, or at least not at that moment. They looked like the cat who ate the proverbial canary, and it seemed to catch Beckworth off guard.

So, Stella did what she always did and took the first step in breaking the ice.

“Hello, boys. Did you miss me?”