Jin In Time Boxed Set 1-3: A Young Adult Time Travel Romance (The Time is Forever Series)

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Jin In Time Boxed Set 1-3: A Young Adult Time Travel Romance (The Time is Forever Series) Page 20

by Karin De Havin


  We mingle for a while. Jin introduces me to a few lords and ladies he met while hunting with the Duke. I take pretend sips of my cocktail and nod and smile. Just when someone begins to ask me a question about America, the head butler announcing, “Dinner is served”, saves me.

  We enter the dining room and my head cranes back to take in the amazing mural paintings on the ceiling. The main scene depicts a group of men on horseback hunting down a poor defenseless red fox. It’s enough to make me swear off meat. I turn my gaze from the gilded coffered ceiling to the much more pleasant murals painted on the walls depicting various views of the gardens on the grounds.

  Jin tugs my arm and leads me down to the middle of the long table set for twenty. One thing I’ve learned from other dinner parties we’ve attended is the further you are seated away from the hosts, the less important you are. I guess Jin needs to step up his game if he wants to get closer to the Duke. Jin pulls out my red velvet chair so I can adjust my bustle and sit down.

  The table is covered on a white damask cloth set with gold trimmed dishes with the Duke’s family crest in the middle. The three sets of silver candlesticks shaped like swans illuminate the guests. A floral centerpiece filled with roses and lilies spreads low and wide so the guests can see each other across the table.

  Jin walks around to the other side of the table, as couples aren’t allowed to sit next to each other in Victorian times. I’m struck with a moment of jealousy when I see the gorgeous wife of the Lord of Sussex sit next to Jin. She is a pretty blonde at least fifteen years younger than her husband. Lucky me, I’m sitting next to the lord who happens to be quite large with a huge handlebar mustache and a breathing problem. His wheezing is already grating on my nerves and he just sat down. I smile and nod but he ignores me. He has to think sitting next to the American girl is some kind of punishment, and he’s probably right.

  As soon as everyone is seated, the footman brings out what the Victorians call kickshaws, otherwise known as appetizers. The first course is a bowl of watercress soup. The flavor is so pungent it’s hard to get down. I take tiny sips so as not to be rude. Luckily the bowl is whisked away before I can finish and a plate of four oysters on the half shell is put in its place. I don't know which is worse. I smile at the lord and swallow down an oyster. His eyebrows dart up in disapproval. I watch as the other guests, including the thin man sitting next to me on the other side, take a special little fork and delicately pick it up and swallow. Ugh. When will I learn Victorians have a utensil for everything?

  Thankfully the meat courses are salmon with a mousseline sauce and beef bourguignon so at least I won’t starve. Conversations hum all around me, but I know enough to keep my mouth shut. Jin smiles and nods as the lord’s wife goes on and on about something. The lord is talking to several men about the economic situation in Parliament. I continue to eat my dinner knowing zero about country politics.

  The final course is a magnificent five-tier wedding cake to commemorate the Duke and Duchess’s anniversary. Thin pink sugar ribbons cascade down the sides like a waterfall. The cake is a work of art. The butler eagerly destroys the baker’s hard work and cuts large pieces for everyone.

  When the slice is put down in front of me, I feel a tinge of sadness. Jin and I never had a wedding cake or a big celebration. We went to the local registrar to get married so we wouldn’t call attention to ourselves. Especially when we didn't know if Roderick would come after us.

  I sit quietly eating my cake when the lord sitting next to me fiddles with his enormous mustache and dramatically clears his throat. “I am not concerned about the political climate; I am far more concerned about the peculiar man that is currently residing at the Chadwick Inn. His dress is fine, but his behavior is quite odd. The innkeeper informed me the man journeys for many hours during the night and returns to the inn before dawn.”

  At the end of the table the Duchess becomes flustered and pushes her half-eaten anniversary cake away. “You are right to be concerned, Lord Nettlesome. I find the idea of a stranger in our midst terribly distressing.” She picks up her fan and waves it back and forth in front of her face as if she might faint. “But that is not the worst of it. I am told the man is missing part of an arm. The horror.”

  Mystery Man

  Esme

  The Duchess’s words echo in my ears as we head into the informal parlor for after dinner drinks and a game of cards. The Duchess’s idea of informal is a busily papered room with cherubs dancing on the ceiling and heavy peacock blue brocade curtains draped through huge gold swan brackets. Matching upholstered chairs and sofas are gathered into several seating groups—enough to easily seat twenty people.

  A burst of fear courses through my body. I adjust my bustle and try to shake off the feeling that the mysterious man at the inn is Roderick. After all, how many men with missing limbs must there be roaming the countryside?

  I bite my lip fighting to keep myself under control as Jin pulls out my chair and I sit across from Lord Nettlesome. He shuffles a deck of cards and twirls his large mustache before he deals each of us a hand. My hands shake as I pick up the cards. I have no idea how to play Victorian games unless it's poker. It's the only card game my dad taught me. If only he could see me now sitting with British royalty.

  Lord Nettlesome smiles when he looks down at his cards. "I do not mean to boast, but I have won every game of Cribbage I have ever played."

  His ridiculous pronouncement makes my stomach churn. During my brief exchanges with upper class British men, they’ve been way too full of themselves. Then my stomach clenches again. The mutton must not be agreeing with me. I tell it to quiet down. The last thing I need is to throw up in front of the lord.

  Jin smiles at me from across the table. I hate the Victorian tradition of husbands and wives always having to be separated at social events. Not like we are going to play footsie under the table, although I'd much rather be doing that than faking my way through a card game. I look at my hand and have no idea if it's good or bad. I watch as the lord and his wife place two cards on the table. With a flourish, Jin places an eight of clubs and a nine of spades down in front of him trying to signal me to do the same. I place a six of hearts and a queen of spades on the table. Jin frowns. Oops, must have overplayed my hand.

  The lord twirls the end of his mustache as he moves several pegs on a scorecard. "It appears I am off to a splendid start."

  I glance at the lord's pretty young wife and wonder how she can sit there smiling. Her husband is an idiot. Then I remember he's also the fifth richest Earl in England. I'm sure that eases any humiliation she must feel. The smugness lasts for three more hands as he continues to have the highest score. I know Jin is good at everything he does, so he must be letting the lord win.

  Lord Nettlesome looks thoughtful as he moves his peg almost to the top of the scorecard. "Mr. Sansby, have you been to town recently? Perchance have you spied the mysterious man of whom I spoke?"

  After a half hour of mindless social chitchat he has to bring up the mystery man? I fiddle with my wedding ring trying to keep myself together.

  Jin puts down his cards. "No, my lord, I have not had much opportunity to visit that part of town. The bloke sounds frightful."

  "Indeed. If he does not vacate the premises next week something will have to be done."

  My tense shoulders relax. If the mystery man is Roderick he will soon be run out of town. Jin won't have to confront him. Goosebumps form on my arms. That will only force him to come after us sooner.

  Jin can see the panic on my face. “Dearest, are you ill?"

  I nod my head and stand up. "Please excuse me. I am feeling unwell."

  The lord shoots up off his chair and rushes to my side blocking off Jin. "My dear Mrs. Sansby, is there anything I can do to assist you?"

  Jin squeezes his way around the Lord's prominent belly. "Thank you for your kind offer, my lord." He takes ahold of my arm. "I believe we must make our apologies to the Duke and Duchess."

  The
Lord brushes my hand. "May you recover quickly."

  His wife glares at him as lingers just a fraction too long. Then she gives me a forced smile. "I hope your health will return posthaste."

  I nod as Jin quickly leads me to the drawing room before the Lady Nettlesome can make a scene. He gives me a wink. "I believe you have an admirer."

  Jin makes our excuses to the Duke and Duchess. I feel terrible for putting him in such an awkward position. He'd gone to such great lengths to get us invited to the party. But the news of the mystery man at the inn has torn apart our once safe little country life. Will we ever be free of Roderick’s evil?

  I wake up with a terrible pang of homesickness. Something important was supposed to happen today. Then it hits me—my high school graduation. One of the big milestones of my teenage years is happening and I’m not there. I picture Courtney with my father proudly holding her diploma instead of mine. The thought makes my eyes well up. I sacrificed so much to save the genie I love. I’ve never regretted it until today. I worked hard to earn good grades so I could get into an Ivy League school to make my father proud. But because of the wish he won’t even remember me.

  Tears stream down my face and I’m glad Jin is busy working on a big project downstairs. I look in the mirror of the armoire and wipe my tears away on the slim chance Jin might pop up to show me the plans for the new greenhouse. My grandmother would be so proud that living in England brought out my latent green thumb. I plan to fill the greenhouse with her favorite flowers—orchids.

  Another pang of homesickness hits me. I try to pull myself together. Jin would take one look at my face and want to know what is making me so sad. The pain of the loss of my grandmother and my old life sends me racing to the closet. I dig through the small leather chest where I stashed my clothes from the future. I pull out my T-shirt that reads, I’m Awesome. It always makes me smile—but not today. I hold the fabric to my face and breathe in deep. The smell of chocolate cookies mixed with the fragrance of my favorite citrus shampoo fills my nostrils. The scent is slowly fading—along with my memories of my past life.

  I tuck the T-shirt away and pull out my skinny jeans and my dad’s shirt. Jin always loves it when I play future dress up. It reminds him of the awkward teenager he fell in love with. That girl seems so foreign to me now. I’ve had to grow up quickly ever since I arrived in Victorian England. I married Jin so people wouldn’t think I was his mistress. Not that I’m complaining. I loved Jin enough to risk my life to be with him. But it was the fight with Roderick and watching Jin die that turned me from a girl into a woman.

  I need to get out of this funk and I can’t do it alone. The only person who can cheer me up is Jin. I pull on my skinny jeans and button up my dad’s shirt just enough to give a hint of cleavage. It always drives Jin crazy. When I straighten the shirt, my hand hits a hard object. Strange, something is in the pocket. I pull out a piece of paper; it’s the note Roderick sent to scare Jin while we were in Paris.

  Dearest Jin,

  I know that your little paramour has wished you back to me. Please thank her. It saves me ever so much trouble. Unfortunately her little plan to murder me has been thwarted. I see all. Please know that I will slay her if you do not come to the Estates Theater in Prague for my next performance. Be there at precisely 8:00 PM on Saturday. You will be mine once again.

  Sincerely,

  Roderick the Magnificent

  How can I still have the note? I remember tearing it up and throwing it away. I race downstairs to the study. Jin is sitting in his favorite leather chair reading over plans for our new greenhouse. My bare feet slip on the silk Persian carpet and I practically hit Jin in the head.

  He turns and sees me in my skinny jeans and Dad’s shirt. “Come here.” He pulls me onto his lap and pushes my hair out of my face. “You look beautiful.”

  I give him a half-hearted smile. “I looked far more beautiful last night.”

  He runs his hand along my cheek. “You’re stunning in whatever you choose to wear.”

  I’m going to have to spoil this perfect romantic moment. I hand him the note. “I found this in the shirt pocket.”

  Jin recognizes Roderick’s handwriting right away. “I thought you tore the note into tiny pieces?”

  “I thought I did too.”

  He tries to hide the worry on his face by tossing his hair over his eyes, but it’s impossible.

  I stroke his cheek. “I don’t know if this is a sign or a warning, but—“

  He swallows hard. “I will leave for the Chadwick Inn tonight. If Roderick is there I have to end this.”

  Surprise

  Jin

  The carriage halts in front of the Chadwick Inn and the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. I push back the feeling of dread. We genies have responses to danger very similar to humans.

  My hope is the mystery man is nothing more than a neighboring villager, because I surely do not desire to confront my former Master again. It is hard to believe the quaint ivy covered brick two-story building could harbor anything as sinister as Roderick. The footman hands me my small valise and I open the bright white door to my home for the night.

  I promised Esme I would not remain at the inn any longer than necessary—preferably only one night. She certainly will worry herself the whole time. We have never been apart since we first arrived in my time. Except for when Roderick captured me, of course. ’Tis a folly I will not let happen again. I thrust my hand into my jacket pocket and touch the barrel of my pistol. This time I have come prepared.

  I ring the bell and a robust woman with a pleasant smile greets me. “Welcome to the Chadwick. I am Mrs. Smyth.”

  “How do you do. I am Mr. Sansby. I will be staying the night.”

  “Of course.” She turns to a skinny man in a well-worn tweed suit. “Chester here will take your bag to your room. It’s at the top of the stairs to the right with a pleasant view of the meadow.”

  “Thank you. Think I will get a pint before I retire.”

  She nods and saunters over to the long wooden bar. Barrel chairs and comfortable booths surrounding a large stone fireplace invite guests to linger. Before I am seated, she places the pint down on a small table next to a leather club chair nestled next to the fire. The thick dark beer washes down the bitter dread of the day. I am most disappointed my mystery man is not enjoying a pint himself. I polish off the beer and take the steep stairs up to my room.

  It’s sparse, but clean and tidy. A small dresser sits on one wall with a washbasin and a towel. A leather club chair like the ones downstairs sits against the other wall. The bed is a four-poster with a white crewelwork coverlet. I sit down on the mattress and sink in. Most Victorian mattresses are made of horsehair and had a tendency to be quite lumpy. Not a concern for genies like me who never sleep.

  As the rest of the inn falls quiet with only the sound of someone snoring off in the distance, I settle in for my evening exercises. Esme is quite fond of my muscular physique. My washboard stomach muscles come from hours of strenuous movements. After two hours of concentrated effort, I am exhausted. I collapse onto the bed and meditate. It’s a genie’s way of channeling our power and being at one with ourselves. A must if I am to confront Roderick—and best him.

  Morning arrives and I straighten my garments, run my fingers through my hair, and head down the stairs for breakfast. The inn has a few new guests scattered around the tables. An older couple is eating porridge by the bay window. A young son and his father are eating bangers and mash near the fireplace. A lone man is off in the corner. At first I have high hopes it’s the mystery man, until I see he has silverware in both of his hands.

  Discouraged, I take a seat by the bar. I order a bowl of porridge knowing I can only eat a few bites. Genies enjoy food but it’s not necessary for our existence. If I order a typical English breakfast of eggs, sausage, blood pudding, fried toast, potatoes, tomatoes, and beans I wouldn’t be able to eat enough to make the innkeeper happy.

  My porridge arri
ves and I ask Mrs. Smyth, “I would like to take my morning constitution. Do you know a good path to enjoy the country scenery?”

  Mrs. Smyth nods. “Indeed, sir. There is a footpath right next to the meadow. It is a pleasant four kilometer walk.”

  “Splendid.” I swallow down a few spoonsful of porridge and head out the door. Perhaps I will get lucky and spy the mystery man? Thankfully, it is a pleasant summer day. Only a hint of a chance of rain by the looks of the large white clouds dotting the robin’s-egg blue sky.

  I tip my hat as I pass several couples strolling down the dirt path. The countryside of Derbyshire is quite beautiful to behold. The rolling hills are bright green and peppered with sheep. Large trees frame the plowed meadows creating an almost checkerboard effect. The smell of grass, wildflowers, and animals makes a heady perfume. Amongst all the beauty I can almost forget the reason I am here—almost.

  Back at the inn, I try to bide my time in the lounge until luncheon is served. I anticipate the room will quickly fill up with people, as there is no other suitable place to dine for miles. Alas, luncheon comes and goes and there is still no sign of the mystery man. Esme will not be pleased, but I am forced to stay another night. I approach Mrs. Smyth. “Madam, I am afraid I must keep my room for one more night. My acquaintance has not yet arrived.”

  She looks me straight in the eye. “I understand, sir. You are having a little trouble at home.”

  Before I can correct her, she saunters off. Splendid. Innkeepers are notorious gossips. By tomorrow it will be all over town that Esme and I are officially out of the honeymoon period—which is as far from the truth as the 21st Century.

  I love her with every breath I take and cannot ever imagine being cross with her. I trudge up the stairs feeling more defeated than ever.

  I meditate until my nose informs me that it is dinnertime. The aroma of Shepherd’s pie mingled with fish and chips churns my stomach. If nothing else comes from my nights away from Esme, at least I can eat a hearty country meal. I change into my black pinstriped suit and join a packed house in the pub. The older couple from this morning is sitting in their seat by the bay window, but a throng of strangers has joined them. Everyone from local farmers to landed gentry are enjoying their supper. Then I spy a man lingering by the back door.

 

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