Timeswept Brides

"Raige," she cried, "don't leave me-I ca

Olivia awoke, sitting upright in bed. She was wringing wet with perspiration, and her heart was drumming in her ears. The dream had been more real than any she had ever had. For a short time, she had been allowed to dwell in Jade's body, to feel what Jade had felt and to know a love so strong that it could not die.

She lay back against her pillow as tears filled her eyes. What fate had drawn her into the tangled lives of the star-crossed lovers? She was in love with a man who had been dead for well over a hundred years, and there would be no escape until she lived the dream to its heartbreaking conclusion.

There was a light tap on the door and Olivia reached for her robe.

"Morning, Miss Heartford," Rosalie said cheerfully as she swept into the room. "I'm to ask if you want breakfast on the veranda."

"Yes, I believe so." Olivia smiled at the maid, who was tall and slender and looked to be about thirty. Then she turned to the balcony door and saw bright sunlight filtering into the room. ' 'Luckily that thick fog that hit last night is gone."

Rosalie looked puzzled. "There was fog yesterday afternoon when you arrived, but a northerly wind blew it away. Last night was a full moon, and bright as daylight."

"But, I-" Olivia turned pale as she remembered the heavy mist. Was nothing at Bridal Veil what it seemed?

' 'I ran your bath for you across the hall, and while you bathe, I'll straighten your room," Rosalie offered.

Olivia agreed with a nod and moved out of the room, carrying her clothes and toiletries. After a refreshing bath in an old-fashioned bathtub with claw feet, she dressed in a pair of jeans and an oversized T-shirt. In slight irritation, she wiped the steam from the small mirror that hung above the sink. Was she mistaken or was her hair lighter in color? And why was it curling about her shoulders-her hair was straight. She shrugged; perhaps it was from the humidity. She reached for her glasses and realized that she'd left them in the bedroom.

The mirror had steamed up again, and in exasperation, Olivia applied a thin sheen of pale pink lipstick. She would leave her hair down today-no reason to pin it back.

When Olivia came downstairs, she was thinking about her dream the night before and did not see anyone until Betty stepped out of the dining room, carrying a pitcher of orange juice.

"Good morning," Betty said, indicating that Olivia was to precede her to the veranda.

"It's a glorious morning," Olivia replied, sitting at the table, which was covered with a white damask tablecloth and set with antique china and silver. She took a napkin and spread it across her lap while Betty poured her a cup of coffee.

"Betty, was there a heavy fog last night?"

"I don't believe so. The fog that hit at your arrival dissipated before sundown. As I recall, there was a bright moon last night. Why do you ask?"

Olivia shrugged and changed the subject. "I thought I heard music-did you have guests arrive after I went to bed?"

Betty looked perplexed. "No. There was no one here and there was no music."

Olivia picked up a blueberry muffin and spread it with butter, trying to calm herself. Betty must think her a complete fool, and she didn't blame her.

"Olivia, I must say that I like your hair worn loose. It's quite lovely." With a bemused look on her face, she watched Olivia for a moment. "You know, I could have sworn that your hair was darker. Perhaps it just looks that way when you wear it up."

Olivia could only stare at her hostess. "But I do have dark hair."

"Oh, I see-you colored it. Well, it looks very natural."

Olivia tilted the silver coffee server until she could see her reflection. Her hands were trembling as she reached up and touched the golden curls that spiraled about her face. What was happening to her?

There was something else that could not be explained, Olivia thought in a panic as she pushed aside the coffee server. She had forgotten her glasses, yet her vision was perfect. How could that be when she had worn thick bifocals since childhood?

Could this be a gift from Jade?

She stood up, placing her napkin beside her plate. "I find that I am not hungry. I believe I'll go for a walk before it gets too hot."

Betty was busy watering the flower boxes on the veranda, so she was unaware of Olivia's distress. "Yes, do that. Be sure to walk by the rose arbor; it's quite lovely there. If you keep to the path, it will eventually take you to the river."

Olivia moved quickly down the path, the same path she had walked last night. Of course there was no sign of the Chinese lanterns because they had not really been there- she had only dreamed them.

When she reached the rose arbor, she sat down on the cushioned bench. Last night had seemed so real. She glanced at her finger where she had pricked herself with a thorn and found a small wound. Her eyes dropped to the floor of the arbor, and there, crushed beneath her feet, was a single rose.

Olivia was suddenly terrified. With no aim in mind, she moved out of the arbor and ran down the path as if she could escape what was happening to her. She ran until she came to the spot where the path met the river. She had the strongest urge to leave this place and never come back. If she had Betty drive her to New Orleans this morning, she could spend the night in a hotel and catch a flight to Boston tomorrow.

She turned to glance back at the plantation house, with its mellow red bricks shining in the sunlight, beckoning to her like a ghost from the past. No, she could not leave. Not until this drama came to an end.

Perhaps the dreams would not come again, but that thought brought her no comfort. She ached to see Raige, to have him hold her in his arms. Last night he had asked her to be his bride-he must love her.

"No, fool," she told herself. "He did not ask you to marry him-he asked Jade St. Clair to be his bride. It was Jade he loved, not me."

Chapter Three

Olivia was torn between not wanting to dream of Raige Belmanoir and fearing that she might not. She tossed and turned, thinking she would never sleep. At last a cool breeze came through the balcony doors, and she drifted off to sleep.

Until now, all her dreams had taken place at night. But the part of her that was Jade was growing stronger, and she made her first appearance in daylight.

As Jade stepped out the front door of the plantation house, she flipped open her green parasol and positioned it between herself and the sun.

"I have grown accustomed to these a

"But you are not fond of Felicity Dunois," Jade's sister, Lizette, said with the honest observation of a young girl.

Jade's father arched his brow at his wife, but made no comment.

"I have no antipathy toward Felicity… exactly," her mother answered carefully. "I am just not one of her close confidantes."

"I know a secret," Lizette said, beaming at her sister. "Would you like to hear it?"

Jade smiled at the young minx. At eleven, she was forever being scolded by their mother for not acting in a ladylike ma

"Oui, please do tell us your secret, Lizette," Jade cajoled dramatically. "I am waiting with bated breath-on tenterhooks-with wild anticipation."

"You would not jest if you knew what I had overheard Madame Dunois say to her husband after Mass on Sunday. They did not know I was within hearing.''

"It is not polite to repeat gossip," her mother admonished her. "You will say no more on the subject."

In her eagerness, Lizette continued as if her mother had not spoken. "Madame Dunois told her husband that she wanted Jade to marry Tyrone so she could get her hands on Meadow Brook."