Once and Forever
by Constance O'Day-Flannery[ Romance ]
Maggie Whitaker looks out the small window on her red-eye flight to London, asking herself a simple question. What is she doing here? Running away is the answer. Running away from unemployment, a mortgage, an artist ex-husband demanding alimony. But, Maggie is also running towards something…A romance that lies hundreds of years in the past.
Nicholas Layton is the third son of the Earl of Traherne, introduced at the court and summoned by the house of Amebury to Greville Manor. On his way there, Nicholas is thrown from his horse and meets this enchanting, perplexing Margaret who claims to come from the future. Surely she must be confused, especially considering how entangled she already is in the political machinations of Elizabeth’s royal court. But, the truth unfolds in a single, perfect kiss…
In ONCE AND FOREVER, Constance O’Day-Flannery, the original “Queen of Time Travel Romance,” shows that nothing--not insidious plots, not royal decree, not even a distance of centuries--can get in the way of true love.
Chapter One
Maggie Whitaker always had a plan, a direction.
Until now...
Okay, so she might just be having one of those mini nervous breakdowns, a mid-life crisis. Who could blame her? Her life had turned into a circus. Looking out the small window of the plane to the sunrise, she saw the dark sky giving way to shades of deep purple and rose, and she sighed in an effort to release the stress. She leaned her head against the backrest and closed her eyes. Everyone else was sleeping on this red-eye flight to London, yet her short nap had only produced a weird dream where she'd been walking in the woods and asking strangers, "Is it you? Is it you?"
Sheesh... even in her dreams she was unable to find peace. From some distant part of her brain she remembered a time, not so long ago, when her life had been normal. She recalled a feeling of safety in a great-paying job, a comfortable marriage. Her place within society seemed secure. How could it all have changed so quickly, she wondered, as the overhead lights in the cabin were turned on and people began to stir. Maggie smelled the aroma of coffee and stretched as best as she could, anxious to ease her sore muscles. Six hours in a cramped seat was no picnic, yet this adventure across the Atlantic had been her choice. Perhaps some might see it as irresponsible, though it felt like a lifeline had been thrown to her, and she would have been truly crazy not to grab hold.
Lifting her purse from the floor, she laid it on the empty seat next to hers. The least she could do was make herself presentable. She knew the routine. First breakfast, then they would land at Heathrow. Taking out her compact, she looked at her reflection and sighed again. The overnight flight hadn't helped her appearance, yet she knew the stress of the last year and a half had taken its toll, and there wasn't much she could do to hide it. She smoothed down her hair, trying not notice the fine threads of gray at her temples. In three days she was celebrating the big 4-0 and her life was a mess.
What are you doing, Maggie Whitaker? She looked at her reflection and snapped the compact shut, as if the action might stop the answer. Running away. That was what she was doing. There was a time when her job in television commercial sales had afforded her the luxury of buying designer clothes and eating at the finest restaurants in New York City. Now she was on unemployment; a gift from the state when her boss and mentor was fired and she along with him, when the new management team brought in their own staff. That would have been tough enough, had she not recently gone through a divorce and been paying alimony to her ex-husband... the artist.
She hadn't minded supporting him when they were married since her job provided them with a great lifestyle, and she was liberated enough to realize the man didn't have to be the breadwinner, but she'd never expected Eric to sue her for alimony. Especially since he wanted the divorce. Now the state of New Jersey was coming after her, along with the mortgage company, the utility companies, and every other institution she'd ever dealt with in the last eight years. It was enough to make her want to disappear, to slip away silently.
So that's what she was doing... disappearing for ten days.
Before closing her purse, she brought out the thick envelope postmarked Great Britain and again read the Victorian birthday card from her relative.
