Attraction through Time

ATTRACTION THROUGH TIME.

Preamble: This is a multi time period story set in several different historical periods and the present day. It is the connection between two strangers who feel drawn to each other from past life experiences as déjà vu plays a role in bringing them together time and again. This is a deviation from my usual erotic stories, more of a mysterious romantic erotic tale

Cordelia sat at the table enjoying her latte and the break from the hectic schedule she had been through that morning. As a researcher at the Natural History museum things had been manic since the arrival of the meteorite samples from Russia. They had two weeks to analyse the samples and put together a paper on them, an almost impossible time schedule. Martin her team leader agreed, but that is what the international panel demanded.

As she sat looking out the window towards South Kensington underground station she noticed a man standing by the station entrance. There was something oddly familiar about him. It was not just his physical appearance, but the way he moved, the way he held himself. It was almost as if Cordelia had met him or seen him before.

It was clear that the man was looking for someone by his almost agitated stance, and he kept glancing at his phone, either checking the time or for a message or call. Then he suddenly looked over at where Cordelia sat and his face changed, there was smile, a hint of recognition and he crossed the road, oblivious to the oncoming traffic, which resulted in several expletives and sounding of horns.

Cordelia looked around the coffee shop to see who it was the man had recognised but saw no one who clearly responded to the man's smile. Suddenly he was in the shop and standing in front of her.

"At last, I have found you." He said a little out of breath from his rush across the Thurloe Place "I thought I might have missed you." He continued as he sat down opposite her. "What's up Clarissa? You look startled to see me."

"Who are you?" Cordelia exclaimed. "Who is Clarissa?" She grabbed her stuff on the chair next to her. "I don't know you or any Clarissa." But there was something familiar about him, his face, his mannerisms.

"I am Patrick, I have your letter, look here it is." He rummaged in his coat pocket and pulled out a lilac coloured envelope, exactly the same as Cordelia had in her desk drawer at home. "Here read this." He thrust the letter at her. Codelia looked the envelope. The handwriting was unmistakable, it was her writing. But how could that be? She opened the envelope and took out the letter. It was written in her own hand. She read it in amazement.

Dear Patrick,

We have this connection that has been clear from the moment we first met. I know you feel it too. Our current and past lives seem intermingled. I know it is hard to believe, but we have met before, though not in current circumstances, and not always as we are now, if you grasp my meaning. Meet me at on Wednesday 31 st October at 2pm at the coffee shop opposite our usual station. I will tell you more then. Until then.

Your darling and love

Clarissa.

Cordelia re-read the letter. She knew she had never written it, and yet it was her handwriting. This man in front her Patrick was so familiar to her. He was ruggedly handsome; she was drawn to him. It was those brilliant blue eyes. When she had first seen him standing outside the station she had a feeling of knowing him, and yet how?

"I still don't know you" Cordelia said, softly "and I do not remember writing this letter. Is this some clever trick for Halloween?" She looked at Patrick's face, his eyes were clear blue, but had that kindness in hem. Windows on the soul her friend Alex had always said.

"No trick Clarissa. I came as your letter said to" Patrick replied.

"My name is Cordelia. I don't know anyone called Clarissa." However, Cordelia did not move, she put her bag back down and sat back in her chair. "Nor do I know any Patrick. So tell me how do you know me?"

"Clarissa Beaumont, graduate of Trinity College Cambridge, Ph. D. in micrometeorites from Imperial college, lives at 34 Lexham Gardens, South Kensington, you will 38 next birthday on February 4th. Should I go on?" He said quietly across the table.

"You could have got that from my LinkedIn page. That proves nothing really. And you still haven't told me what you are doing here, disturbing my break and letting my coffee go cold." Cordelia responded. Now she was getting both worried but also intrigued. What the fuck was going on she thought.

"Ok, you have a birthmark on the inside of your left thigh and a scar on your back where you collided with a barbed wire fence when you were 8. Fell off your bike chasing your sister." He sounded so confident in what he said.

Codelia sat in silence. This was uncanny. "How do know this. You a complete stranger. How do you know these things? No, no this is getting weird, I must go..." Cordelia grabbed her bag and got up, pulling on her coat. "Just leave me alone." She said, although for some strange reason she said it half-heartedly.

Patrick sat there as Codelia packed her things away and pushed her chair under the table. She turned to him as she walked away "I hope you have more success with the next woman you pester" she said.

He grasped her hand. It felt warm, and strangely familiar. "Meet me after work at 5.30 at the Anglesey Arms, you know where that is. I will tell you more." He paused. "Please, I am not a madman Clarissa." His eyes met hers and she saw for the first time a familiarity. Was her mind playing tricks on her. She pulled her hand away and walked slowly out the shop. "Half past five, Anglesey Arms!" He called out behind her.

The noise of cannon fire and muskets could be heard all over the town. Catherine had heard it before, when the soldiers loyal to Parliament had taken over the town, but now in August it was in the hands of Royalist soldiers who were resisting the efforts of the "Roundheads" to recapture the town. Much of the town had been damaged, including St Michael's church.

Catherine's father Sir Wiliam Hall was a prominent merchant and importer of wine and tea from the cities of North Germany, the Hanseatic league, and the East He was a supporter of Parliament and had found it hard since the Royalist take-over of the town. They lived in a large house at the rear of Tuesday marketplace, which was at least far enough away from the besieging forces weapons.

There was a knock on the door and the maid servant Faith, was heard to open the door. There was a muffled conversation, and she returned to speak to Catherine. Since the death of Catherine's mother to plague eight years ago she had taken on the role of the lady of the house. Her two brothers were away fighting with Oliver Cromwell's forces somewhere in the South-West as far as she knew.

"Beg your pardon my lady but there is a gentleman at the door. He says he has an appointment with your father. But the master is not at home. I did tell him, but he was very insistent. I told him to wait outside."

"Did he bring a letter of appointment with him, or other letter of introduction?" Catherine enquired.

"He did my lady" Faith replied handing over a letter it was addressed to Sir William Hall. Catherine opened the letter; her father had given her carte blanche to act on his behalf when he was absent. She read:

Dear Sir William,

Please give the bearer of this letter your most kind consideration. Richard Beaumont is a close friend of my family and is in need of aid having been a loyal servant of the Commonwealth since the outset of hostilities. Please find it in your conscience to give him board and lodging and he will assist you in any manner of works you may desire.

Your loyal friend and compatriot

Sir Thomas Fairfax

Catherine knew that Sir Thomas Fairfax was one of leaders of the Parliamentary forces and a man of considerable influence. It was lucky that this Richard Beaumont had not been searched when he entered the town, through one of the two gates, which were guarded by Royalist troops.

"Show him into the front parlour" Catherine told Faith. "I will see him shortly. Tell him to wait."

"Yes my lady" Faith replied and gave a little bow and scurried away to inform the gentleman to wait in the front parlour.

Catherine was intrigued. Why would Sir Thomas Fairfax send a man to her father in the guise of safety when everyone knew the town was besieged by the forces of Parliament. Unless there was more to it than met the eye. Catherine pulled a shawl over her shoulders and crossed the hallway to the front parlour and opened the door.

Richard Beaumont was standing by the empty fire grate looking at the painting which hung above it. It was a painting of The Fall of Phaeton by Rubens.

"A most striking painting I must say" he said turning around when he heard the door open. " By Rubens if my.........." He stopped mid-sentence as his eyes fell upon the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his 26 years. For once he was lost for words. He bowed and then stood facing Catherine.

For her part Catherine was about to say something when she gazed on Richard Beamont. He was tall, muscular but had a lightness of movement about him. However, the most striking thing were his piercing blue eyes and his almost perfect face. He was rugged in a way that artists captured sculptures. She opened the letter and read the introduction. Strangely she felt her heart beating and the blood rushed through her so that she heard her heart beat in her head. Gathering her wits she spoke:

"I have read your letter of introduction Mr Beaumont, but sadly there is nothing I can do for you until my father returns. How long that might be I cannot say. My advice sir would be to return at 4 of the clock when I am sure he will have returned."

"Excuse me my lady, but do you know where your father is, so that I might see himself right now?" He enquired.

"I know not his whereabouts" Catherine replied. "You can return at 4 by which time I would expect he is at home. Failing that you could try his office, which is over yonder side of the market place. They might know his whereabouts." She stopped. She could feel herself becoming breathless looking at this most beautiful man. She had never considered a man could be beautiful. Handsome yes, but beautiful. It never entered her head. And yet here was, not 5 minutes of meeting him and she knew he was different to all the other men she knew or had met. "I bid you good day sir. Faith will show you out." She rang the bell and Faith dutifully arrived to show Richard out.

Once he had gone Catherine needed to sit down. He had literally taken her breath away. When Faith returned she asked her to bring her a drink of tea, that new beverage that her father was now importing from merchants in India through the East India Company. Whilst she waited for Faith to return she had to calm herself as never before had she quite experienced such emotion.

Patrick sat at one of small wooden tables in the pub, nursing a pint of London Pride. The pub was pretty busy, with lots of locals, especially from the local sixth form college enjoying a pint or three. He had specifically chosen a table where he could sit alone, but with a spare seat should Clarissa decide to come to meet him. He gazed out the window looking down the busy street and people walking home in the dark. It was now 5.45, and he wondered whether she would show or not. He hoped she would. She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever met. Beautiful in a slightly unconventional way, but when he saw her, there was no mistaking her for the woman he knew as Clarissa.

Just then the glass framed wooden door opened and along with a rush of cold October air in walked the woman whom he spoken to at the coffee shop earlier. She looked around the crowded room, and he stood up and waved to her and drew her inwards with the gesture of his fingers.

She walked purposely towards him and dumped her bag on the table, jolting his beer so that he had to stop it spilling. "Would you like a drink?" asked.

"If you are offering. Though I am not staying long. I am only here because you piqued my interest in what you said." Cordelia replied.

"Pinot Grigio Blush?" he said as if it was something he knew from regular meetings.

"Oh, yes, thank you. That will be fine" she responded. "How does he know that?" Cordelia thought to herself.

Patrick got up, went to the bar and after a wait ordered another pint plus a large pinot blush. Paying, extortionate London prices, he returned to the table and placed the wine in front of Cordelia. Sitting down he smiled at her, raised his glass and took a sip.

In that moment Cordelia saw a flash of recognition. She did not know where it came from, suddenly she recognised this man who sat in front of her. She couldn't place where or when or under what circumstances but the way he smiled and raised the glass to his lips, Cordelia knew she had seen this many times before. To hide her reaction, she took a large sip from her wine and looked out the window and the dark street.

"I know you must find this very strange, very unusual" he began "but that letter was from you, you recognised the handwriting, and it is yours, isn't it?" He looked at her directly. The piercing blue eyes boring right into her soul. "How do you explain that, Clarissa."

"Let's get one thing straight" she said forcefully, "my name is Cordelia. Cordelia Beaumont. And as you said I work at the Natural History Museum, though you could have looked that up anywhere." She took another large sip of wine. She was feeling flustered and yet fascinated to find out more. Was it the wine, making her more at ease.

"But I didn't did I Cordelia. How did I know about the scar and the birth mark. That's not something on LinkedIn. How do you explain that?"

"I cannot, but there must be a rationale explanation to this." Cordelia retorted. "You tell me. Are you some clever mind reading con man?" Strangely she smiled as the words left her lips.

"Far from it. This letter was written by you to me, but not recently. It was written in 1917 by you, when you were Clarissa Beaumont. You deny it's your writing?" Patrick paused. He waited for the words to sink in.

"What are you saying? I wrote this in 1917, when I was this Clarissa Beaumont? How do you figure that out? What are you a time traveller? That's hilarious. And there was I thinking of taking you as mildly serious. Now I know you are crazy." Cordelia laughed and finished her wine. "Thanks for the wine, but I think you need some help." Went to get up.

Patrick had expected this response. "Ok I understand why you would think I was crazy. And that you are possibly thinking I am making this up. But that necklace you wear every day, with the ring attached to it. Where did that come from?"

Cordelia looked at him bewildered. "How do you know about my necklace and the ring?" she asked almost in horror.

"I just do. Its another connection between us. Promise. Tell me what you have been told about it."

"No, not without another glass of wine. If I am going to indulge you in this fantasy, then I need another drink." Cordelia demanded. She sat back down. This strange man was becoming an enigma, a handsome enigma admittedly. What would her friend Alexandra say "I wouldn't kick him out of bed."

"That's fine. So you are staying."

Elizabeth Hall stood on the deck of HMS Birkenhead on her way to Simons Town in the Cape Colony of South Africa. She was traveling to meet her father in Algoa Bay. The ship was ferrying soldiers of the West Surrey Regiment who were to support the ongoing Xhosa war in South Africa. She was just one of 600 or so passenger's and soldiers taking the journey. It was expected to dock in Simons Town on February 23rd and then sail onto Algoa Bay on February 25th.

Elizabeth was 26 and regarded as a spinster. She had been betrothed to an officer of the British army but he had been killed in the Orange River uprising of 1848, and now she was joining her father who was a doctor in the newly established hospital at Grahamstown. She was a fine woman, tall and what many would call handsome rather than beautiful.

During the voyage from Portsmouth, where she joined the ship, she had been something of an attraction to the young officers of the 24th Rifle Regiment. She had no shortage of offers to dine with them in their rather sparse quarters, offers which she was not afraid to refuse. There was one lieutenant who took her fancy. He was a rather rugged individual, with piecing blue eyes and there was something about him that had caught Elizabeth's attention from the moment she had set eyes upon him when he first boarded the ship at Queenstown.

Nathaniel Beaumont was immediately struck by the beauty that was the woman who stood on the forecastle of HMS Birkenhead, as they boarded the ship at Queenstown. She had that unique beauty of a woman who he knew to be a string character. There was something about her that seemed familiar, though what it was he could not put a finger on it. He just felt drawn to her.

Whenever he got the opportunity he would try and meet her. Crossing paths with her on the shio was quite easy. The paddle steamer was not a huge vessel, and they would aboard until they docked in the Cape Colony in late February.

At first they merely nodded and greeted each other as they passed on the deck of the ship, but then after ten days Elizabeth found herself standing looking at the ocean when she sensed a person standing beside her.

"If I did not know better sir" Elizabeth said " I would say that you were deliberately finding opportunity to meet me. We seem to always find ourselves meeting. Would you say that was coincidence or by design?" She looked at the rugged handsome officer standing beside her.

"You have me at a disadvantage my lady" he replied "for you clearly divine my intention. I feel that I have known you before. But I am unsure of the circumstances."

"Maybe you were a compatriot of my late fiancé Captain Walburton, who sadly died in the Orange River Uprising. Could that be the connection?" Elizabeth turned and faced the young lieutenant.

"I think not my lady, as I knew not Captain Warburton. Strange as it seems I feel that our acquaintance goes back much further than that. But I am sorry to have disturbed you in your thoughts. Lieutenant Nathaniel Beaumont at your service my lady." He bowed and turned away to continue with his duties with some of the 600 soldiers transported on the ship.

Elizabeth was now puzzled. She too felt that she knew this man, but not the reason why or how. Maybe the voyage would reveal more.

Patrick returned to the table with another large glass of pinot grigio blush for Cordelia. He placed it front of her and sat down. During the time he had been at the bar ordering she had time to consider what he had said. First a letter, written by her but not by her. Now the necklace and the ring. How did he even know about the necklace and the ring, it was something that had been passed down through the family and had become hers when her grandmother died.

"Let's get things clear to start with" Cordelia started, "I don't know you, have never met you until today, and yet you seem to know some things about me. So firstly, who are you?" She stared straight into the piercing blue eyes and the angular bone structure of his face. There was something hugely attractive about this man. "Wouldn't kick him out of bed" came to mind and she smiled. Then realised she was smiling at him. She felt drawn to him, and yet cautious and reticent to share too much.

"Apologies" Patrick began "I am Patrick Hall, and I know this sounds crazy but as I said before we have known each other before. So, let me tell me about the necklace and ring." He took a sip of his beer and sat forward attentively to listen to her response.

"Well I suppose it does no harm telling you. This necklace and ring are a family heirloom" Cordelia pulled it out from under her jumper and showed to Patrick. Before she could continue, he said,

"Seventeenth century gold ring and necklace am I correct?"

"Yes, but how would you know that, are you are jewellery expert. How can you tell by just looking?"

"Later Cordelia. Go on with the story."

"Well, I inherited it from my Grandmother, who in turn inherited from her Aunt. Apparently, the ring was given to her by her fiancé as a promise to wed in 1917. But sadly, he never returned from the Great War. The necklace was part of a heirloom passed down from a distant relative who had perished in a shipwreck on the coast of Africa in the mid 1800's. The origins are a bit hazy. My Grandmothers Aunt inherited both and just had feeing the two belonged together. At least that is the story that I know." Cordelia paused and saw Patrick was smiling. "What is so amusing" she asked.

"That is part of the story, yes, but it goes back much further than that. You see we have been traveling together through time, meeting up and then parting before ever getting the fulfilment of our being together." He paused. "May I hold the ring and necklace? No need to take it off, just let me hold it please."

Their eyes met and Cordelia felt a sudden intense intimate feeling for this man. Her reticence was still there, but something was pulling her towards him. Cordeia laughed. "Travelling through time together! Really? That's the most absurd thing I have heard for a long time." However, she knew as a scientist that some strange things had proven true.

Looking at Patrick she was clearly attracted to him, but cautious regarding her initial feelings. She wondered what he would be like in bed. How it would feel to kiss him, to run her hands over his body. She had to shake herself to try and dismiss the feelings. She felt herself saying "Yes" softly to his request.

Patrick placed his hands over the ring. He closed his eyes, and she almost laughed. It was like a Rasputin moment with a holy relic. However, the humour did not last long, Cordelia suddenly felt a surge of emotion rush through her. It was both exciting and scary and she pulled away, preventing Patrick from holding the ring any longer. What was going on?

Captain William Hall of the 3rd Canadian Division stood on the platform at Victoria platform along with the remainder of his company waiting to board the train to take them to Ramsgate and then onto Belgium. It was to be his third trip to that hell hole called Flanders and what was left of the town of Ypres. Beside stood him fiancé Clarissa Beaumont, dressed in her nurses uniform. They had agreed that after this current tour of duty they would marry. It had been a whirlwind romance. Clarissa had met William after he had been wounded at the Somme the previous year. His wounds had been extensive but not life threatening, which had not bee helped by his determine to rescue three wounded colleagues from no-mans land. For which he had received the DSC.

Clarissa held her fiancé tight, fearful that he was going back to the Front again, and everything she heard about the battle of Passchendaele scared her that William might not return, or return scared by the horrors the war. She had seen far too many poor wretches in hospital, missing limbs and mentally damaged by the war.

"You will look after yourself my love," Clarissa said to him as she looked into those steely blue eyes. " I don't know how I could live if something happened to you. I know we have only met a few times since you left hospital, but I love you as if I have loved you for centuries."

He laughed and smiled. "I know, you tell me that every time you write to me my sweet Clarissa. I feel the same thing. Don't worry yourself, I have had my wound and everyone says that this latest push will finally force the Germans on the backfoot. Before you know I will be home and we can get married. But before I go I want you to have this."

He pulled out of pocket a velvet pouch and handed it to Clarissa. She took it and opened it. Inside was a gold ring and a gold necklace.

"These are for you to remind yourself of my love. Wear this around your neck and keep the ring close to your heart my love. When I return this ring will seal our oath to each other. It was my Grandmother's ring who sadly lost her fiancé in the Boer War of 1899 at a place called Mafeking. She gave it to me when I first went to war. It has a particular importance to my family, our family." He looked at the gathering troops boarding the train."

Clarissa recalled the first time she had met William at the hospital at Dover. He had been gassed and shot in the leg. However, he also had two very distinctive scars. One on his shoulder, and almost circular scar and another on his side and lower back. Both of which he explained as old wounds from a previous skirmish.

" And now I must go my darling. Write to me, though I might not get much chance to write back." He held her and kissed her and then was gone, leaving Clarissa alone of the platform as the train pulled out. Destination Ypres.

Present Day: Anglesey Arms South Kensington.

"So are you telling me that this ring and necklace was given to my Aunt by a soldier who went to the war and died?" Cordelia asked, almost in disbelief.

"Well not quite, there was no aunt. It was your great grandmother who was given the ring and necklace, by the man who was my great grandfather. He was a captain in the Canadian Regiment fighting the Germans at the battle of Passchendaele. It was a horrific conflict and over half a million men died trying to capture some ridges in Belgium. He had met your great grandmother when he was recuperating in hospital from wounds he had received at the Battle of the Somme. He had been gassed and shot in the leg. He and Clarissa became lovers when he was recuperating and engaged to be married."

"But how did he get this necklace and ring, it's not something you just carry around in your uniform?" Cordelia asked.

"it is quite a tragic story all told" Patrick said. He took a sip of his beer and his eyes seemed to get watery. Cordelia felt pulled towards this man, she placed her hand over his as they say there. "What am I doing?" she found herself questioning her actions, but she continued to hold his hand. It was warm and comforting. She strangely felt that she knew these fingers and this hand. "That's crazy" she told herself.

Shortly before 02:00 on 26 February, while HMS Birkenhead was travelling at a speed of 8 knots the leadsman made soundings of 12 fathoms (22 m). Before he could take another sounding, she struck an uncharted rock with 2 fathoms of water beneath her bows and 11 fathoms at her stern. Barely submerged, the rock was clearly visible in rough seas but was not immediately apparent in calmer conditions.

Captain Salmond rushed on deck and ordered the anchor to be dropped, the quarter-boats to be lowered, and a turn astern to be given by the engines. However, as the ship backed off the rock, the sea rushed into the large hole made by the collision and the ship struck again, buckling the plates of the forward bilge and ripping open the bulkheads. Shortly, the forward compartments and the engine rooms were flooded, and over 100 soldiers were drowned in their berths.

Lieutenant Beaumont rushed to the main deck and started to organise lifeboats for passengers to abandon ship. The colonel had given the order that women and children should be first to leave the ship. The women and children were placed in the ship's cutter which lay alongside. Two other large boats (capacity 150 each) were manned, but one was immediately swamped and the other could not be launched due to poor maintenance and paint on the winches. This left only three smaller boats available. Elizabeth was in one of those smaller boats.

During the voyage Elizabeth and Beaumont had become increasingly attached to each other. When the crossed the Equator the heat was such that the soldiers were allowed to wear just their vests and trousers. Elizabeth was find of wearing a light bodice and kimono style dress to keep cool. As their attachment grew Elizabeth recalled the first time they held hands, his fingers against her skin. It was as if they had held hands, held each other before.

Every day during the voyage they met several times and on recent occasions Nathaniel had kissed Elizabeth. Not just as a passing kiss but passionately, longingly. One evening as they stood on the forecastle looking out at the dolphins swimming ahead of the ship, and as the sun sank quickly over the horizon, Nathaniel held Elizabeth in his arms and she hoped that she had found love once more. The fact they were both headed for the same destination, Grahamstown filled her with joy and hopeful anticipation. She had held him and felt through his shirt the two scars that she had seen when he had removed his wet shirt after rescuing one of the soldiers who had fallen overboard.

But now what was happening. The ship seemed to hit something under the water. It was clear the ship was sinking.

Ten minutes after the first impact, the engines still turning astern, the ship struck again beneath the engine room, tearing open her bottom. She instantly broke in two just aft of the mainmast. The funnel went over the side and the forepart of the ship sank at once. The stern section, now crowded with men, floated for a few minutes before sinking.

Just before she sank, Captain Salmond called out that "all those who can swim jump overboard, and make for the boats". Colonel Seton, however, recognising that rushing the lifeboats would risk swamping them and endangering the women and children, ordered the men to stand fast, and only three men made the attempt.

The soldiers did not move, even as the ship broke up barely 20 minutes after striking the rock. Elizabeth stared in horror as she watched Nathaniel standing with his men on the deck. It was then that she felt something in her pocket, pulling it out as they lifeboat moved away from a sinking HMS Birkenhead, it was a velvet pouch, wet now with seawater. Elizabeth watched some of the soldiers managed to swim away from the ship. But it was the 2 miles to the shore later she would learn that most drowned, died of exposure or were killed by sharks.

Patrick explained that his great great grandmother had opened the velvet pouch on finally being rescued by the schooner Lioness. Only 7 women and 13 children survived from the disaster and with it Elizabeth found her robbed again of love. She discovered that Nathaniel had bequeathed to her a gold chain necklace and a gold ring. This was now the same necklace and ring that Captain William Hall had given to Clarissa Beaumont at Victoria station.

"But where did this ring and necklace come from originally?" Cordelia asked, now fully absorbed by the history of the jewellery she wore every day. "And what about the letter you showed me, about meeting at the coffee shop?" She continued.

"Well for that we have to go back to August 1643 and the siege of Kings Lynn by the Parliamentary forces during the Civil War." Patrick said.

Sir William Hall returned home at 4.45 that afternoon, and in tow was Richard Beaumont. Catherine greeted her father with a kiss and bowed to Richard, who it was clear was now acquainted with her father.

"Ah Catherine, I think you have met Mr Richard Beaumont. Sir Thomas Fairfax has sent him to us to assist in the business. It seems that the general believes that the Royalist forces might not bee able to hold the town much longer." Sir William took off his coat and hat and invited Richard Beaumont into the front parlour. "I am afraid meals are rather frugal given the circumstances, but our cook does the best doesn't she Catherine."

"Yes, father she does miracles with what limited resources we have. So, you found my father Mr Beaumont in the end." Catherine responded.

"I did indeed my lady, thank you." Richard replied. He couldn't take his eyes off the beautiful woman standing in front of him, the daughter of his host Sir William Hall.

Dinner was served and the three sat and ate and Sir William wanted to know all the news of how things had been going. There was news of numerous Royalist victories but little good news from the Parliamentary forces. Richard explained that most recently on 13th July he had been one of the lucky ones to survive the decisive Royalist victory at Roundway Down in Wiltshire, where Sir William Waller's forces had been thoroughly beaten by Lord Wilmot's forces.

"As a result Bristol has now fallen to the King's forces" Richard said "I was sent here to help raise morale of the townsfolk" Richard said. "And of course help in any way I can Sir William" Richard added.

After dinner the two men took themselves to the library to discuss business further, whilst Catherine busied herself with her embroidery. But she could not concentrate, those deep blue eyes kept coming into her head. She had never felt this way about someone she had never met before, and yet, there was something about him that was so familiar. Was she lustful? That was a sin she knew, but her body was telling her something else.

Sometime later on Catherine went outside to the garden at the rear of the house. The walled garden was secluded, and she liked to sit there in the peace of the early evening. The sun had not yet set and the warmth from the brick walls radiated into the evening air. As she went to sit down, she heard soft singing, and looking up noticed that Richard Beaumont was in the garden, behind the trellis which separated the formal garden from the herb garden. Through the fencing she could see he was washing. Striped to the waist, in just his trousers she watched as he washed himself. He had a muscular body and she drew closer and saw he had a scar on his back and his shoulder. He was singing a hymn softly that was often a rallying call for the Parliament forces.

Her movements created a rustling, and he turned and saw Catherine watching him. He stopped singing and bowed slightly.

"I am sorry if my ablutions have disturbed you my lady" he said "but I needed to wash the dirt of several days journey from me. As you can imagine travelling from the West country has not been easy."

He made no effort to cover himself, and Catherine felt her heart beating faster looking at this fine specimen of a young man, bare chested.

"I am sorry to have interrupted you sir" she responded and went to turn back to the house, but some attraction force kept her stuck to the place she stood. "I see you have been wounded" she added almost as just something to say.

"Yes, a Royalist musket ball here," he pointed to the purple scar on his shoulder "and a blade here" he pointed to the long scar which ran from his side towards his back. "Fortunately, I fared better than those who caused it."

Without realising it Catherine had closed the gap between them. She was now close enough to touch him. Her fingers brushed against the scar on his shoulder. "Did it hurt? I am sure it must have" she enquired tracing the line of the scar with her finger.

"Like the Devils own pain" he said, "but it is largely healed now, and some touches make it feel a lot more comfortable" he smiled at her. His smile was captivating, and suddenly she felt his lips on her lips. Catherine pulled away.

"You misjudge me sir" she said, both shocked and somewhat aroused by the sudden kiss "I was merely enquiring about your wound. Do not take me for one the strumpets who inhabit the Dukes Head." However, she stood by him, not withdrawing as she knew she should.

"Oh my lady I do not. Forgive me, but such beauty as yours demands such reaction. In all my travels I have never set eyes upon such a beautiful woman as yourself. I am sorry if I give offence, but I am a plain-speaking man." He remained standing close to her.

"That you would be so forward sir is not...." She stopped as he pulled her towards him and kissed her again. At first, she resisted, but then the passion she suddenly felt, from years of being restrained gave way and she returned the kiss. Her hands ran up his back feeling the long scar as they kissed as if lovers who had known each other for ever.

Catherine pulled away, breathless, flustered and flushed. "I must return indoors, my father will be wondering where I am" she turned and walked slowly towards the house, but when she reached the door, she turned and saw he was watching her with a broad smile on his face.

Later that night Catherine lay in bed, restless. The lingering kiss had been something so unexpected, so out of the rules of social behaviour. She should never have allowed him to kiss her the first time, let alone a second and third. The fact that she responded as she did was totallt out of character, and yet she now felt a stirring in her breast and between her legs. She was aroused by his actions and her reaction.

The late August full moon streamed through her bedroom window and Caterine knew she could not sleep as she was currently feeling. She arose from her bed and in the light of the full moon removed her nightdress. She stood naked, in front of the mirror in her room. She looked at her body. Full breasted, she caressed her breasts and squeezed her nipples, feeling them stiffen and moistness between her legs. She knew it would not take her long to achieve a climax and when it came it took her breath away.

Standing on the landing Richard heard the sound of moaning coming from one of the rooms that led off the moon dappled floor. Like Catherine he could not sleep and had quietly left the room Sir William had offered to him and descended to the second floor of the house. It was then he heard the soft moaning and he approached the room.

Slowly depressing the catch on the door Richard stepped inside and was greeted by the sight of a naked Catherine standing in front of the mirror, her fingers buried inside her sex. She was moaning and was clearly enjoying the sensation. He stood and watched as she suddenly tensed and fell back on the bed. It was then that she noticed he had let himself into her bedroom.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded breathlessly. "How dare you enter my bedroom." Whilst she said it strongly there was something exciting about this. She lay naked on the bed, strangely unconcerned about her nakedness.

"I heard moaning" Richard said "I was worried you might be unwell or need help. Clearly, I was mistaken." He made no attempt to leave though and walked towards her. "You are the most beautiful creature I have ever set my eyes Catherine" he said, removing his night shirt.

Catherine gazed hungerly at him, now standing naked ad with an erection in front of her. She was seized with a sudden desire, a lustfulness took over her body and mind, her reticence and morals abandoned she reached up to him and pulled him towards her.

Richard buried his face in Catherine's breasts and massaged and sucked her nipples. His tongue circling her ever stiffer nipples. She had never felt this degree of desire and arousal before. Slowly he worked his way down her body, until he reached her bud, and she felt his mouth encase her clitoris, drawing in into his mouth as he sucked her. Never before had she experienced such an intense feeling. She was tempted to push him away, but the electric pulses flowing through her body won over.

Richard's fingers slowly slipped into her wetness and she felt a wave wash over she, she put her fingers in her mouth to stop her crying out, for fear of waking the household. She shivered and trembled as the climax finally subsided and she lay exhausted. Richard moved back up to kiss her mouth, she could taste the salty juices on his tongue. In the moonlight she looked at this stranger who had given her an sexual experience beyond anything she had ever had before.

Cordelia was now transfixed by the tale Patrick had told her. But how did she know whether any of this was true. It could just be a complete fabrication. But by the same token she admitted, the letter still had to explained.

"So you are telling me that this necklace and ring were given to my relative in 1852 when a ship sank off the coast of Africa, not by my Aunt giving it to my great grandmother?"

"Well yes, tragically my relative Nathaniel Beaumont died when HMS Birkenhead sank. But he gave the necklace and ring to your great great grandmother as a sign of his love for her, even though they had only known each other for a few weeks. They had little opportunity for intimacy on board ship, but it was clear they had both become besotted with each other. And here is the even stranger part of this, inside the pouch was a note. Sadly the note I think was lost somewhere long the passage of time, but it attempted to explain why their feelings towards each other were so strong." Patrick paused, and looked down. Cordelia was still holding his hand. "You see you feel it too don't you Cordelia. The attraction of times past." He looked at her, knowing he had looked into those eyes before.

Cordelia slowly pulled her hand away. "I don't know" she said reluctant to accept any explanation at that time. "But how does the letter lay a part in all this? How did you come to have this letter? Explain that!"

Clarissa's parting from William had been so painful. She knew that things were not going very well on the front line in Flanders. Every week the list of men killed at this place called Ypres and Passchendaele grew ever longer. The necklace and ring he had given her she wore permanently around her neck, The ring fitting snugly in her cleavage, it gave her some comfort that her love for him might keep him safe, although it was a fools hope in certain respects. She could pray that he would return to her in one piece.

Clarissa sat at her table one evening in late October and wrote to William, hoping the letter would reach him wherever he was in Belgium. In her usual flowing handwriting she told him of her news of her work at the hospital and how she hoped to see him soon. She wished he would keep himself safe and that he was in her prayers each day and that the necklace and ring her gave her she wore everyday close to her heart.

She finished off the letter with the following:

We have this connection that has been clear from the moment we first met. I know you feel it too. Our current and past lives seem intermingled. I know it is hard to believe, but we have met before, though not in current circumstances, and not always as we are now, if you grasp my meaning. Meet me at on Wednesday 31st October at 2pm at the coffee shop opposite our usual station. I will tell you more then. Until then.

All my love

Clarissa

"So my great grandmother wrote this letter to this Wiliam Hall, when he was away fighting in the Great War. And you have this very same letter, or part of it and that is what drew you to meet me here today? I find that difficult to believe. Why this October 31st? Why not last year or next year?" Cordelia was confused and yet increasingly drawn to the connection.

Patrick reached across the table and took Cordelia's hand. "Never have I seen such beauty" he said. "I have looked into your eyes many times before, I feel it and I know you feel it too. Try to deny it, but there is a connection between us. Plus, who said I only chose this October 31st? How do you know that I have not waited for many October 31st at 2pm?"

"You are crazy, you want me to believe you have come to South Kensington station every October 31st just on the hope, the off chance, of seeing me having a coffee." Cordelia looked at Patrick, those blue eyes drew her into him, she did feel something. Some connectivity that was irrational, illogical, beyond her usual acceptance as a scientist.

Patrick just smiled. In that moment Cordelia knew he was being truthful in what he said, that she believed every word of the story he had told her.

"So go on" she said explain to me.

Catherine had taken every opportunity she had to see Richard, although he had been out nearly every day until late in the evening. When he returned, he was often closeted with her father and several other Parliamentarian supporters. For over a week he had been outside the town, apparently meeting Lord Manchester and other leaders of the besieging forces. She lamented the fact that they had had another opportunity to be intimate, and increasingly she longed for his touch on her body. So, Catherine had to make do with her own fantasies. She had never masturbated so much as she had since that evening with Richard it was as if she was obsessed with him. Was he some kind of sexual succubus?

On the 15th Richard arrived back at the house. The siege had destroyed many houses and the Royalists had tried to flood the town by destroying the embankments of the Great Ouse river, but with no success fortunately. As he entered the house Catherine rushed down the stairs. There he stood, dirty and tattered with bloodstained clothes, but nevertheless as handsome as ever. She wanted so much to run into his arms, but her father appeared at the parlour door and ushered him inside. All Catherine got was a cursory bow and he mouthed a kiss in her direction.

It appeared that the town was prepared to surrender the next day and at the same time, the town would have to pay substantial sums to satisfy the besieging army and avert plunder, and leading figures including Sir Hamon L'Estrange and William Leeke were to be kept effectively as hostages until the terms were fulfilled. As a result, Oliver Cromwell's brother in law Colonel Valentine Walton would be governor of Kings Lynn. He would arrive tomorrow to take the surrender of the town.

Catherine waited in anticipation of Richard having some time to spend with her, but it was fleeting. However, as he left for another journey out of the town he found her in the garden.

"My heart sings to find you unhurt" she said as she rushed into his arms. They kissed and despite his dirty visage she held his face to hers and tears of joy flooded down her face. "Tell me this ordeal is over" she asked.

"Soon Catherine, tomorrow the town will be in Parliamentary hands, and Valentine Walton will be in charge. I must hasten now but I will return tonight. Wait for me here. I promise we will be together tonight." With that he kissed her and turned and left.

The wait was interminable. The minutes seemed like hours and Catherine was impatient for his return. Her father noticed her unease and remarked upon her incessant glance at the clock and inability to concentrate even on her most basic tasks. "What ails you child?" he asked.

"I am just uneasy at how the day might end" was all she would say, excusing herself.

After waiting in the garden and hearing the birds that were left after the chaos of the siege go quiet she heard the kitchen door open, and there stood Richard. He looked pale and his face was smeared with dirt and blood, but those blue eyes shone out like beacons in the twilight.

Catherine rushed to him and they embraced. He kissed her deeply, longingly, their tongues twisting as they kissed. Then he pulled away. "Let me wash first Catherine, I am so grimy and I do not want to sully you or your fine gown" he said, removing his jerkin and shirt and walking to the standpipe in the herb garden and washing himself in the cold water. Catherine followed him and watched as he washed off the dirt and blood. She ran her hands over the scar on his side and shoulder, feeling it as if it were a lost friend.

Despite her usual reticence and reluctance she had thrown all caution to the wind. For some strange magnetic attraction had pulled them together. Washed Richard led her back indoors and they climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Everyone else was in bed and the house was quiet. Catherine led him into her bedroom and stood by the bed. Casually she pulled the single dress she had worn off revealing her naked body. She walked to him and they kissed as his hands ran over her body.

Richard removed his breeches and boots and joined her on the bed. "I am yours" she said as he kissed her breasts, nibbled her nipples and felt her react to his touch. As before he kissed her lower and lower until her found her wet and hot pussy. She pated her legs so that he might kiss and lick her as he did before. As she felt his tongue on her bud she experienced the intensity of her climax. She shivered and trembled as the orgasmic wave rushed through her.

After a moment of recovery she pulled him on top of her and guided his erection into her. She almost purred in pleasure as she felt him fill her. They found a rhythm and their mating was almost animalistic, both of them getting the release of the pent up passion both had discovered with each other.

Catherine felt herself climaxing again, and then the flood as Richard came in an almost torrent. Exhausted and sweaty from their love making they lay together on the bed. Richard stroked her body as they lay there. "Though I do not regret a moment of our passion" Catherine said "you must admit this is most unusual, as we hardly know each other" she giggled.

"Yes, unusual in strange times" he agreed "but as you know we are old souls, so even if this is new to us in our current form, we have been here before."

Catherine felt herself drifting off to sleep and told Richard he had better retire to his room she watched as he dressed himself and left her room and she fell asleep.

"But what has this got to do with the necklace and the ring?" Cordelia asked. "Plus, I still don't know how you got that letter from Clarissa."

"Let us address the letter first." Patrick said, holding Cordelia's hands across the table. Despite her underlying resistance to him, Cordelia found herself increasing drawn to him, even a feeling of sensuality or lust was creeping into her feelings. "You see Clarissa wrote that letter hoping that he would receive it and be able to get leave to meet her. However, when she waited at the shop on October 31st at 2pm, and then 3pm then 3.30pm, it was clear he was not coming. It was only a week later when scanning the weekly casualty lists in the newspaper that she saw his name against his regiment and service number."

Cordelia pulled her hand away from Richard and held it to her face. She was suddenly overcome with a feeling of grief and loss and tears flowed down her face, "Oh how terrible for her" was all she could muster. "So, she never married William but still had the necklace. It seems that the necklace and ring have seen a lot of tragedy. But what about the letter? "

"Now that is another story. You will recognise that the letter says Patrick not William. Now that is deliberate, Clarissa used Patrick as William's pen name, as you will realise in 1917 society was more conservative than it is today, plus her family expected her to marry someone of higher social class. So, she writes to Patrick, which was the same name as her cousin. It was a subterfuge between the two of them." I obtained the letter by chance, as William Hall was my great great uncle, his brother was my great grandfather, and when clearing out his belongings after my father's death I came across a horde of correspondence, but this letter spoke to me in a way I have never experienced before. And here I am. Here you are Cordelia. Old souls together in the present day." He held her hand and kissed her fingers. Cordelia felt this was such a natural thing for him to do, even though they had only met that afternoon.

Catherine awoke after such a deep sleep. She was still naked under the bedclothes, and she felt sticky and warm and her head spun. Had the evening before been just a dream? She wondered. Or had she experienced the most intense sexual connection of her life. All she knew was that Richard Beaumont had stolen not only her maidenhood but also her heart. Life without him would seem impossible.

Dressing and slowly descending the stairs to the parlour she greeted her father who sat with a smile on his face. "A good morning to you daughter he said, and a wonderful day it is. I have just received news that the town is back in Parliamentary hands, and we are to meet with Colonel Waller later this day." He smiled and grasped Catherine's hand. "This is truly a good day. How are you, Catherine?"

Catherine looked at her father. "That is indeed good news father. I am of good spirits this morning. Though my head aches somewhat. Have you seen Mr Beaumont this morning?"

"Ah major Beaumont had to leave at sunrise. Sir Thomas Fairfax has requested his presence at Newbury, and he had to hurry forward to make sure he reached Newbury by the 19th of the month. Why do you ask?"

"I just wondered as both he and I had been talking about the Rubens in the front parlour." However, Sir William by now had lost his interest in his daughter and busied himself with what he considered more pressing matters, including his forthcoming meeting with the new governor of the town. He then stood up and excused himself from the table leaving Caterine by herself.

As Catherine sat at the table Faith, the maid entered and asked she could bring madam anything. Catherine responded that some tea would be nice. Faith stood beside Catherine and placed a velvet pouch in the table beside her. "Mr Beaumont left this for you my lady this morning," She then scurried off to the kitchen as Catherine looked down at the pouch.

She opened the pouch and found inside a gold ring and a gold necklace. Along with it was a scribbled note which simply said "Wait for me my love."

It had now got pitch dark outside as Patrick and Cordelia sat looking at each other. "So you say this necklace and ring is the very same that Richard Beauoment gave to Catherine Hall in 1652?"

"Yes, the very same" Patrick replied.

"By why did it end up with my family? Did Richard and Catherine marry? Did they have children?" Cordelia asked wanting to now.

"No, they did not marry. Richard was killed on 20th September at the battle of Newbury. But yes they had a child from the one night of passion. That child Richard, named after his father, was the ancestor of Nathaniel Beaumont who gave the ring and necklace to Elizabeth Hall as he stood on the deck of HMS Birkenhead. She in turn handed to her great grandson Captain William Hall who in turn gave it your great grandmother Clarissa Beaumont. And now it is hanging around your neck in the same it did others before you. So do you now see the way we are connected Cordelia?" He stopped and gazed at her, his eyes piecing her soul almost.

"Well, that's a fascinating tale I must admit. And now I think it time we drew this evening to a close. Thank you for the drink and the entertaining story. It is not everyday a woman gets to meet such an erudite man." Cordelia got up and started to leave.

"Do you still live at the same house that Clarissa did?" he asked.

Before she could be more circumspect, she answered "yes".

"Well let me walk you home, it is the least I can do after you listened to my story." Patrick said, rising and grabbing his coat.

They left the Anglesey Arms and walked down Queengate towards her home. It was as if he knew the way to her house in Lexham Gardens, she felt him take her hand, and she did not resist his attention. "This whole area has gone through so many changes, when Clarissa lived here it was very posh and upper class, then by the 1970's it was slumlords and rent control, but now you live in one of the most expensive parts of not only London but the whole planet" he said as they reached the steps to her front door. Number 34. However instead of bidding him goodnight there and then she let him follow her inside.

No sooner had they closed the door than she grabbed him and kissed him deeply, her body pressing hard against his. Breathless she pulled her coat off and pulled him into the front downstairs room. Kicking her shoes off she almost ripped his coat off and ran her hands over him.

Pausing to only draw him onto the sofa Cordelia was intoxicated by him.

"I know this is mad, but yes, I do feel that connection to me. Now I just want you."

Pulling him onto the sofa she fumbled with his shirt, running her hands over his chest she felt for the button on his jeans, and plunged her hand inside. She was overtaken by lust. Patrick pulled her top open and roughly pulled her breasts out of her bra, then sunk his head to kiss and suck her nipples. Cordelia lay back enjoying the sensation running through her body.

Patrick held the necklace and the ring and kissed it as he removed her bra. Cordelia thought that a strange but romantic thing to do, given its attachment to both.

Soon they were naked on the sofa, as Patrick knelt in front of her, pushed er back and parted her legs, she felt his mouth on her clit and his tongue penetrate her wetness. She pushed his tongue deep into her, whilst his fingers rubbed her clit and squeezed her nipples.

"Oh don't stop. Don't you dare stop." Cordelia said. Knowing her orgasm was close. It had been a long time since anyone, man or woman had made her feel so good. Her orgasm rised through her body with an intensity she had never known before. It was as if all those years he had spoken of were rushing through her body.

After her orgasm she lay catching her breath, as he held her and stroked her face and arm. "Lets go to bed" Cordelia said, surprising herself as she pulled him off her and led him upstairs to her bedroom. Once there he pushed back on the bed and continued to eat her and play with her. Soon she had a second and third orgasm, until she begged him for a rest.

They lay cuddled together until she had recovered her strength, then she ran her hands down his body. It was then she noticed the scar on his side, a long knife-like wound. It was a momentary recognition, then with her hand she took his erection in her hand, pulling back his foreskin and running her tongue over the top. He lay back and moaned.

"You are not going to waste this" she said drawing him into her mouth. Her tongue worked on him until she knew he was close himself to orgasm. Then she climbed on top of him and rode him to a shuddering orgasm that almost made her pass out.

It was when she was lying on top of him, both exhausted from the intensity of their love making that she felt the scar on his should. Looking at she saw it was a round purple mottled scar as if a ball or similar had been fired and passed through him.

Sleep however, got the better of her, and she knew in the morning she would ask him about the scars.

Cordelia awoke to find herself in bed alone. She wondered if Patrick had gone to the bathroom or the kitchen. She called out but received no answer. Puzzled she got out of bed, feeling hung over and in a bit if a daze, pulling on her dressing gown she wandered down to the kitchen. There was no sign of him. She walked into the front room. Her clothes were neatly folded on the sofa, but there was no sign of his clothes. In fact, there was no sign that he had even been in the house, other than the residual of the sex they had the previous night.

She went into the kitchen and made herself some tea and sat at the counter, hr hand went to the necklace around her neck, it was still there and the ring along with it. But wat was the connection between him, Patrick Hall and her Cordelia Beaumont. There was a symbiosis that was clear, but it was as if he had never been here. Had she imagined it all?

Cordelia sat drinking her tea and running through in her mind the events of the previous day and the passion of the night that followed. Afraid to admit it to herself as she was, she was slightly smitten by Patrick Hall. He was handsome, a fabulous lover and clearly a cultivated and educated person. She hoped she would have an opportunity to see he again and get to know him better despite her initial reservations. Here was she believed the beginnings of a true love story.

As she drunk her tea she opened her i-pad to looked at the local news. One of the smaller headlines caught her attention, it read:

Professor dies in tragic traffic accident. Police said yesterday that the person killed in the road traffic accident on Exhibition Road was Professor Patrick Hall, 56, Professor Hall died of his injuries at the Westminster and Chelsea hospital following a hit and run outside the Natural History Museum at 1359 on October 31 st. Professor Hall rose to prominence as a leading proponent of past life experiences and had given many talks on the radio and presented several TV programmes. He is survived by his wife Catherine Beaumont-Hall and their sons Nathaniel and William.

THE END.