Spence laughed. "I think that was why she kept putting them out there. She had to know it was me, yet she was always so nice to me."

"You're a likeable kind of guy, Spencer...er....excuse me, My Lord!!"

He arched his right brow. "I think I like the sound of that!"

She snorted an unladylike sound. "You would, you barbarian!"

He just laughed.

The coach stopped and the coachman opened their door. Spencer got out then helped her out. For

the first time, he looked at what she was wearing and mentally kicked himself for not thinking

about the dress sooner. "Blast it! Look at your b.l.o.o.d.y dress!"

She looked down and noticed it was a little wrinkled and sort of smelled like the sea, but other wise in remarkable good shape. "What? It just needs to be tossed in the washing machine and pressed a little."

"Washing machine?" he asked curiously.

She nodded, remembering that he wouldn't know. "It's a big square thing, that runs off electricity.

You just toss your close in it, add a little soap and voila! Clean clothes."

He knew that they were way off the subject but he had to ask. It sound all so facinating to him.

"And...What is electricity?"

She wrinkled her brow as she thought. "Well...I'm not really sure how it all works. It had somthing

to do with Ben Franklin flying a kite with a key attached to it, while standing out during a lightening storm."

He blinked. "That makes no sense, whatsoever."

She laughed. "I know. I don't get it either! All I know, is we have these holes in our houses that we

plug things into and it works!"

Spencer shook his head in an aggrevated gesture. This female was going to drive him batty. "Well, regardless. You still are not dressed properly. My father will think...."

"Spencer. So the prodical returns."

Spencer turned his head at the loud booming voice. There, in the doorway, stood William Spencer Phillip Kensington, the Duke of Ballington.

His father.

He nodded to the man. "Father. I see you are well," he said stiffly.

His fathers cool gaze swept over him and then latched onto Destiny. "And I see that you still flaunt your lightskirts in polite society," he said, with a look of disgust.

Destiny knew she'd been insulted, but not sure to what extent. "What's a lightskirt?" she whispered in Spencers ear.

"He's calling you a wh.o.r.e, my dear," he said aloud. Destiny could practically see his spine stiffening. He was mad.

And so was she! "I'm not a wh.o.r.e!" she defended with indignation. "I am an American citizen and I...."

Spencer clamped his hand over her mouth, shutting her up. "Excuse her, Father. We've had a rather long journey and we're both tired." When he was sure that she was going to stay quiet, he let her go and made a show of adjusting his jacket. "You summoned me here for a reason. Why don't you show us to our rooms, so that we can refresh ourselves and get this meeting over with."

The duke lifted his chin and flared his nostrils. "Very well. But I will show your doxy to the servents chambers. I'll not have you bring her into the household. You have cousins here. I demand that you not upset them."

Destiny let the "doxy" word slip by, because she realized she was about to be seperated from Spencer. He was her only link in this crazy time warp! "No," she whispered to Spencers, grabbing his arm. "Please don't let them seperate us."

Spencer looked down and saw that she was terrified. And he could only imagine how the servants would treat her. But the biggest concern was the male staff. He wouldn't be able to protect her, either. She would be fair game.

He did the first thing that he thought of. He wrapped a comforting arm around her and brought her close.

"Father," he began, "I think there has been a misunderstanding. Destiny is not my lightskirt or my doxy."

He brought her closer to the duke. Taking her hand he extended it out to the man. "Father, meet Destiny Kennsington. My wife."

Chapter 6.

"I can't believe you told him we were married!" Destiny blurted out as soon as they entered "their" bedroom. She narrowed her eyes at him and wished that he would, at least, look at her! "First you don't want anything to do with me, now, you have us sharing a bedroom!! What were you thinking?"

That was the problem, Spencer thought, he hadn't been thinking! He still avoided looking at her, unable to face her. He pretended to be in the contents of his trunk. "Really, Destiny, my dear. You are making too much of this. It was the only excuse I could come up with to make sure that you stayed with me and not put in the servants quarters," he answered calmly.

Destiny threw her hands up in the air. "But you saw his face! He didn't believe you! He thinks that I'm your mistress!"

"Whether he believes me or not, it not the point. Your here, and your safe."

Destiny knew he had a point, but she hated the lie. Especially since she wished so much that it was the truth! It was hard enough being with him in the same room. But now, they had to share a bedroom. It was true, they'd shared the same quarters on the ship, but that was before she bungled everything up by professing her LOVE for him!

Wearily she sank down on the feather mattress, that was settled in the ma.s.sive frame of the bed. "What's going to happen now, Spencer? How long will we have to stay here?"

Spencer finally looked over at her. He could see the lines of worry etched across her fine brow. He found himself walking towards her, dispite all his resolve to stay away. Carefully he sat down beside her and cupped her chin in his rough hand. "I'm sorry, about all this, Destiny. But I spoke the truth. It is the only way for you to be safe." He sighed and his hand left her chin and moved to smooth her brow. "We will have to try to convince father that you are not my mistress but truly my wife."

She felt spellbound gazing into his eyes. "But...but we're not..truly..married." But oh how she wished they were... Correction. She wished they were living in the 20th century and married.

Regret pierced through Spencer. Regret for how he treated her in the carriage. Regret for not returning her declaration of love. How could he undo his hurt?

"No. We are not," he said finally. "But we will have to pretend to be." He moved closer and his voice was growing huskier.

"What would I need to do?" she ask, knowing that she was teasing him, but longing for him to take her in his arms.

"Just. .." he began pulling her to him. "Follow me." With that, he wrapped his arms around her and closed his mouth over her own.

Even as the man was kissing her senseless, Destiny could not shake the confusion that clamored in her head. Jeez the man was either a big tease or had multiple personality disorder! Hot and cold, hot and cold...WHAT was WITH him??

But as he nibbled and sucked gently on her lips, she lost her train of thought. Who WANTED to think when a hunk like Spencer was...well...RAVISHING her?

His hands gripped desperately onto her shoulders, but she felt no pain. Without another thought she wrapped her arms up under his and pulled herself closer, molding herself to his hard body.

Spencer whispered her name as he broke from her lips and trailed kisses across her check and down her neck. Tremors of desire coursed through her body, and she felt her legs grow weak.

She felt herself being lifted into his arms and carried to the ma.s.sive bed in the center of the room. She took the chance to see what was in his eyes, and was shocked at what she read in them.

She had expected desire, that much was a given. But she had not expected to see such yearning and possessiveness burning within his fiery gaze. And something else, too. Some thing that could be interpreted as...love? Oh Lord! She hated even to think it, much less hope for it. But she couldn't help it. It didn't matter that she was a stranger in a strange time, and that she didn't belong. All that mattered was this man and this time. Would she sacrifice her modern future to be able to live forever in this backwards time with this man? The answer was a most definate....YES.

So gently, he laid her down and then laid down beside her. She expected him, to start kissing her again, but he didn't.

For a moment he stared into her eyes, while bring a hand to her face and gently caressing her with his thumb. Destiny felt tears begin to clog her throat. She had been with him for just a few weeks, but already she couldn't imagine being without him. Especially if he always looked at her like her was doing now.

Heat seemed to blaze from his eyes as they roamed from her eyes to her mouth. His thumb followed and smoothed her lips, opening them slightly. She reacted intinctively, brushing her tongue over it. For a moment a look of surprise crossed his face, then...one of delight. She was a feisty one...his Destiny..

She brought up her hand and laced her fingers with his. "Spencer, I know it bothers you, what I said earlier, but I don't want you to feel obligated to respond. I know where you stand. But I don't care. I think you DO care for me, a little." she told him boldly.

A tortured expression came over his face and he breifly closed his eyes. "Destiny , I need to talk to you about that, I..."

A knock at the door interrupted him. "Master Spencer, your father expects you in the Library in ten minutes," a loud, snooty voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Sighing, Spencer rolled away from Destiny. "Thank you Matthews. Tell him we'll be right down." he called to the butler.

"Very good, sir."

Slowly he rose into a sitting position and raked an impatient hand through his hair. His hormones were running wild and protested at the interruption! And he needed so badly to tell her...

"Jeez, Spencer. You'd think you were five years old by the way that old coot talks to you!" Destiny complained. She had to complain about something! What had he wanted to tell her? Would she ever know?

Patiently, he smiled at her and helped her up. "He's known me since I was a boy. Old habits die hard, I guess," he explained. Looking around, he spotted the wardrobe and got an idea. He got up and opened the heavy wooden doors.

With a big smile and a grand sweep of his hand he presented Destiny with the contents of the wardrobe. It was full of beautiful dresses.

"I wandered if my aunt still came to visit. She is about your size and she always insisted on taking over my room because she loved my view of the lake. I see that she has completely taken it over, since I've been gone!" he told her.

Destiny forced herself to push her frustrations aside and get off the bed. Clothes! She was going to get to wear pretty, CLEAN, clothes!

But she would definately deal with Spencer...later!

Chapter 7.

Destiny could hardly breath!

Gasping for air, she squirmed around, trying to get comfortable in the corset she'd just had a maid lace her in. "This is torture!" she moaned. Mauve, the duke's irish housekeeper, made a tsking sound as she pulled tighter. "There'll be no getting you in that gown unless we get this tighter!" she a.s.sessed.

"If you get it any tighter, I'm going to faint!"

Mauve just laughed. "You're a strange girl, you are! "

Destiny winced as Mauve gave another yank. "I'm a stupid girl, for ever going on that cruise in the first

place. You know, my best friend said I should go to the beach. I should have listened!"

Mauve had no idea what the young woman was talking about, so she just laughed again. "There it tis!"

she finally announced and tied the ribbons into a tight bow.

When Destiny was finally able to see herself in the gown that Mauve had thrown over her head, she had

to admit, she never looked so slim. What's a few crushed ribs? She wondered if Spencer would be impressed.

He was.

"You're a vision to behold, my lady," a husky male voice sounded in the direction of the door. Hastily,