Page 33 of I Know You

I stop short. I’ve never met this man in my life, yet a spell of familiarity winds around me, the same one that accosted me when I first met William. Only now, I recognize it’s this man’s gentle touch that I know. The feel of his hand in mine or caressing my cheek, the strength of his arms when he holds me. I suck in a breath at how real the feelings are.

He stares back at me with the same shock, and inch by inch, his lips form a smile that says welcome home, love.

“Miss Granville?” William’s voice draws me out of my staring at the young man.

I whip my attention to him, hoping that the last few moments haven’t played out in my expression. “It’s so good to see you,” I breathe, stepping toward him.

He grasps hold of my shoulders and leans in for a kiss on the cheek. “How are you? My, as pretty as the day I met you. It’s a wonder.” His eyes narrow in confusion again, even as happiness at seeing us spreads over his face.

“I’m very well. Thank you.” As I sneak a peek at the man over William’s shoulder, that feels like an understatement. I could run into his arms and embrace him with the joy of a long-awaited reunion.

“I thought you both dead, considering I heard nothing of you after you eloped twenty years ago,” William says. “This is quite a surprise. What have you two been up to that you’ve never sent a letter besides that one assuring me all was well even if I never heard from you again?” He turns toward Ben.

Ben’s gaze flickers to the young man—who’s still watching me, which makes me blush—and then back to William. “There’s something important we need to discuss with you that would explain it all—perhaps in private?”

William’s expression turns serious, and he nods. “Forgive me. Seeing you both is such a surprise that I forgot my manners. This is my son, Quinten. Quint, Ben Mitchell and Clara Granville—forgive me, it must be Mitchell.” He laughs. I can’t help myself—I steal a glimpse of Quint. Disappointment and confusion envelop his handsome features.

“Actually…” I begin. Ben means to tell him the truth, but he stiffens when I start to explain. “There’s so much to tell you,” I finish instead. Now both William and Quint share matching confused expressions.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Quint says, shaking Ben’s hand first before taking mine. He grips it, and I almost interlock fingers into his. He blinks and takes it away reluctantly, still having held it too long, considering Ben watches possessively and Quint is under the impression that I’m Ben’s wife.

“Quint?” William says. “Give us a moment. Let your mother know we’ll have two joining us for dinner.”

“Sure, Dad,” Quint says. His uncertainty shifts back to a cheerful expression, and with another smile at me, he strides from the room, closing the heavy door behind him.

“You will dine with us? Have you a place to stay in New York?” William holds out his hands to the couch and two leather armchairs facing each other on the far side of the room, waiting for us to sit on the couch before he takes a seat of his own.

Ben shakes his head. “We just arrived. We came straight here. You should let me explain before you make an offer that might be awkward to take back.”

“Never.” William frowns. I smile at his loyalty to Ben.

“The truth is—the reason Clara and I are both unchanged—is that we come from the future. When you met me in 1900 for the first time, I had only six months before that stumbled through a passage in time that brought me from the future to your time. Clara arrived at The Villa in 1901 the same way, and shortly after she arrived, we discovered she can control the portal. That is the reason we haven’t been in contact with you for so long. We didn’t elope when we disappeared from Mrs. Guthrie’s. We returned to our own time period.” Ben says it all in a rush, and as my attention alternates between him and William, I tense along with our host.

“That’s ludicrous, Ben,” William says, his shoulders stiff. “No matter how unsavory the real explanation is, I prefer that over such a story.” He turns to me, fatherly protectiveness hardening in his expression. “He never married you, then? It shocks me, my dear. The Ben Mitchell I knew never would have done such a thing.”

I shake my head. “We aren’t married, but it’s nothing like that. Ben is telling the truth. I promise.”

Ben lets loose a heavy sigh. “Trust me, William, I would rather give you such an unsavory story, but it would be as much a lie as you believe what I just told you to be. I should have given you the truth long ago, and I’m sorry. You remember what I told you of Miss Swanson?” Ben clears his throat, and I share in William’s surprise over him bringing her up.

William blinks at him. “Yes…” He draws out the word, clearly confused.

“I told her the same story I just told you. That’s the reason she said what she did about me. I thought I could trust her.” He looks down at his feet. I draw in a breath at his words. Does this explain his reserve with me? “I know I can trust you,” Ben continues, his voice soft. “How else can you explain that Clara and I have not grown any older, that where we were once your contemporaries, we could now pass for your children?”

William’s expression loosens, turning once more to confusion. “How can it be?”

“There is a certain energy that makes a portal through time in reflective surfaces,” Ben explains.

William doesn’t look as though he comprehends this any more than I or Ben understand it. We sit in silence while he mulls it over.

“You said the man you knew would have never eloped with Clara and then not married her, right?” Ben breaks the silence, and there’s a tinge of desperation in his voice, pleading with his friend. “Because you knew me for over a year and a half—you were my closest friend. I hated lying to you all that time, but you see yourself how you would have reacted, how she reacted, and I needed your friendship, much like we need it now.”

William’s expression softens more, but he still shakes his head. “I can’t believe it.”

“It’s the truth. I swear to you—to a man I thought of as my brother during that awful time when I thought I had no way home. If you wish me to say that we are Ben and Clara’s children, come to renew the family acquaintance, I won’t think you the worse for it. But the William Allen I knew would despise being lied to, even for his comfort.” Ben levels him with a stare that says, You know you can trust me.

William stares back, the press of his lips relaxing with each second then his jaw eases. Finally, he chuckles. “Highway robbery…” And he shakes his head at me. “It was just dramatic enough to believe.” After he takes another deep breath and shares a relieved smile with us, he says, “And what are you doing here now?”

Ben’s shoulders round with relief, and my fingers untangle themselves from each other.