Part 21 (1/2)

He nodded.

”Tchaikovsky somehow could put into music all human emotions-the pain of not knowing what will happen next, the hope that grows in our hearts, the way defeat can devour us, the way victory can transform us, transform us forever.”

She held her iPhone closer to her flat stomach as if she didn't want him to see it.

He watched her closely as the violins began again a sweeping romantic tune. Closing her eyes again, she finally released her tight grip on the gla.s.s box. That was when he read ”1812 Overture.” He sucked in a breath.

”Does that mean in the year of 1812?” he asked wildly, not recognizing his own voice.

The music escalated. It sounded as if cannons fired off. For a long moment she didn't answer, but stared at him as the music beat with monumental rhythm and the tones vibrated through him. Not because the music was loud, but it resonated with all human emotion, as she had said. Will thought the music especially spoke to him and his sense of accomplishment when on a battlefield. He knew this tune. He knew it innately.

With rolling drums, it ceased, and she pressed something on the screen, then looked up at him, holding out her iPhone again so he could read it.

”It's a book. It's a book about the British commanders in chiefs of this war. First, there was Gage, now Howe, but soon Howe will retire too. As you know things were not easy between Howe and the Ministry at home. King George wanted better results, and Howe, again, as you know, came here as a mission of peace, not war. He will retire next year, and is gone by 1778, then General Henry Clinton will take over.”

”Why not General Guy Carleton? He's the better general and has more experience.”

She smiled ruefully. ”You believe me?”

Will sucked in another breath, not sure how to answer, not sure why, but he did believe her.

Tentatively, she looked up at him again, one tear rolling down her cheek. She shook her head. ”I didn't know you were this wonderful. I would have never known it, if it weren't for this experience. I only knew your tactics.” Looking down again, she said, ”You feign a frontal attack, but then outflank your enemy. Howe gets much of the credit for your designs, your battles, but through my research I came to understand that it was you, your brilliance, your attack plans. It was all you.” She took a shaky breath. ”Tomorrow you will do the same. Only, you won't just use your right flank, as you usually do, but you will also use your left, essentially pinching your enemy to death. The American militia that will meet you at Kip's Bay won't see what's coming. In one day's time you will have more than a thousand prisoners of war.” She glanced up again, as his heart beat crazily in his chest. ”I know how this war will turn out, because I've read it over and over again.”

At that his legs finally did almost give out on him, and he walked backwards until he found a nearby couch to fall into. He huffed for air as Erva approached.

She gave him enough room to make him think she was fearful of him. The pained look in her face, the occasional tear down her cheek gashed at his heart.

He had to clear his throat a few times, but finally he could say, ”Read it? The outcome?”

She nodded.

”Because you are not from my time?”

She nodded once more.

He let out a dry chuckle. ”Lord, when I met you, I imagined you were from another time. But I thought from the song you sang, and the way you make me feel...I made believe that you were a medieval princess.”

”Princess?” Her voice cracked. ”The way I make you feel?”

He looked up at her, holding her iPhone and hands protectively over her heart. ”Yes, because, I swear to G.o.d, with you I felt I could rip apart dragons with my bare hands. I felt that I could do anything.” Again, he gave a wry laugh. ”I fancied you some princess I could rescue, but, Erva, my darling, you were the one saving me.”

She fell to the ground in a cloud of her blue skirts. He rushed off the couch, kneeling in front of her, holding onto her waist.

Trying to wipe away her tears, she said, ”I don't usually cry like this.”

He smiled. ”Okay.”

She giggled.

”Did I use that term correctly?”

She nodded.

”Is it Germanic? Are you ever going to tell me what it means?”

”I believe it's American. Founded in the early 1800s, but used predominately after...after a presidential candidate used it in the 1840s.”

His breath ceased and his stomach clenched, but he would get through this, by G.o.d. ”What year are you from, darling?”

She bit her bottom lip, which he guessed she didn't mean to be as provocative as it looked. d.a.m.n, he wanted to kiss her and never stop.

”I'm from a little more than two centuries in the future.”

Being hit in the gut might have had a lesser reaction than what he experienced at that moment. He plopped on his backside, somehow sitting up still, probably appearing stupefied.

Erva held onto his coat. ”I'm sorry.”

”What? What are you sorry about, darling?” He sounded drunk to his own ears.

She shrugged.

”You said you're older than I, right? You said you are actually thirty-five, although you could pa.s.s for a girl of two and twenty.”

She smiled. ”Flatterer.”

He couldn't help but grin back. ”I'm not trying to be. I'm trying to make a point that I'm actually older than you, am I not? I'm more than two hundred years your senior.”

She actually giggled, and Will realized all was well. It was odd, and very hard to wrap his head around, but all the same, she was here. With him. And he wouldn't let her go.

”So, how does this work?” he asked. ”Are you going to stay here? With me? Marry me, and accept my t.i.tle and estate and new sister? Or do we jump into the future now?”

She swallowed. ”You-you'd still want to marry me? After you know-”

”My darling, you could come from a different planet, and I wouldn't care.”

”You don't care that you're two hundred years older than me?” she asked with a slight twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

”As long as you don't.” He smiled.

She shook her head.

He wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. ”Erva, I don't know much about love, but what I do know is that the way I feel about you...I doubt I would ever experience it again, except mayhap in another two hundred years time.”

She smiled again, but then looked down shyly. ”You-you don't just want to marry me. You love me?”

”I know it's utterly impetuous, improper, and unreasonable to fall in love so soon-only a few days after I met you.” He hooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him again. ”But it's also perfect. I love you. I want you. I swear to G.o.d, Erva, I want to make love to you as often as I can. Let me amend that. I want to make love to you as often as you'll let me.”

She giggled and grabbed hold of him in a tight embrace. All too soon, she pushed herself away. ”I-I have more to tell.”

He nodded, bracing himself by swallowing his tight throat.