An Earl In Time

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An Earl In Time Page 10

by Ruth Ann Nordin


  “Does he succeed?”

  His eyebrows rose. “If I told you that, it’d spoil the book.”

  “Who says I’m going to read it?” she asked.

  “If you end up having to stay here, I recommend reading it. It’s one of the best ever written.”

  “If I had wanted to read any of these books, I could have done so when I was in this library in the future. Old books don’t appeal to me.”

  “These books aren’t old.”

  She shot him an amused look. “They are in my time. Old books are typically boring. I don’t want to waste my time reading boring things.”

  “But this isn’t boring. None of these are boring.” He gestured to the books on the shelves. “In this time, they are relatively new. You ought to think of it that way. They might be more interesting to you.”

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t have an attractive cover to make me interested in it. An attractive cover is important.”

  “What’s important is that the story is good.”

  “The way a cover looks adds to the enjoyment of the story.” She closed the book and put it back into the spot on the shelf.

  “That cover is one of the best ever made. The binding on the book is perfect.”

  “That’s not what I meant. This cover is plain. It’s drab. There are no people or pretty scenery on it. If this book is about a castle, why can’t there at least be a picture of a castle on it?”

  He stared at her as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “That’s absurd. You don’t need a picture on a cover. The purpose of reading is to create the images in your mind.”

  “In this time, I realize that’s what you have to do since the technology hasn’t been developed to make books look pretty. But I’ve seen some awesome covers in my time, and once you’ve seen those, you can’t go to books like this. It’s just not possible.”

  “I’m sure it is possible. You just don’t want to do it.”

  “The way something looks adds to its appeal. You, of all people, should understand that. I notice how much care and attention you put into this place.” She turned to face him. “When I first arrived here, trees lined my path to the bridge, and once I crossed the bridge, there were tall shrubs that had been trimmed. Those things enhanced the beauty of this estate. The lawyer figured I’d have no trouble selling it because of its splendor.”

  His eyes grew wide. “Why would you want to sell this place?”

  “Well, I’m not a citizen of this country. I’m a citizen of the United States. My home is back there.” She paused. “Or it was back there. I’m not sure how being sucked into the past is going to change things.” It was possible she was never going to go back. Forcing the thought aside, she added, “Also, I can’t afford to run a place this huge. You had some money left in the estate, but it wasn’t enough to get me through the rest of my life, and I only had $2,000 in my bank account. It wasn’t like I was rich.”

  His gaze lowered to the box where he had placed the pieces of glowing paper. “It’s a shame this estate was going to be sold. I had hoped that Francis would be able to have children who would keep it in the family forever.”

  She winced. As she had imagined when she’d looked at his portrait in the future, he wasn’t happy about her selling it. She felt even worse now that she’d gotten to know how nice he was. “I’m sorry. It’s just out of my ability to keep it, and there was no one except for me to pass the estate to. I was the end of Phillip’s line.”

  Looking as if she’d just told him he had no reason to keep living, he put the lid on the box and returned it to its spot on the shelf. She didn’t know what she could say or do to lessen the impact of her words. She’d told him the truth. She was the last remaining person who was in Phillip’s line. She realized most family trees kept expanding, but in Phillip’s case, it hadn’t. It was impossible for her to know why. Maybe it had something to do with the magic that bound her and Julian to this property.

  She heard footsteps and turned her attention to the door. The butler came into the room and said it was time to eat.

  Julian offered a nod and said, “We’ll be there in a moment.” He waited until the butler left before saying, “Maybe I changed the future when I sent the coachman out with the missive. I warned Francis not to come here. Maybe he’ll stay in London so he won’t be accused of murder and hang. Maybe he’ll inherit the title and have children. Maybe this estate will stay in the family now.”

  She had no idea that a title was so important to the noble classes. She wondered if she should have kept her big mouth shut. Maybe it was best if she hadn’t told him all that had happened. After a moment, she said, “I have no idea if sending Francis something will change anything or not, but it was worth a try. I would have done the same thing in your situation.”

  He let out a defeated sigh. “I don’t know whether to hope in anything anymore. If I wake up tomorrow and it’s June 17, 1817 and you’re not here, then I’ll know there is no hope. Francis will never get the missive. He’ll hang. Philip will inherit everything, and in two centuries, it’ll all be gone.”

  She wished she had just stuck to the topic of book covers. This conversation was getting much too depressing. Even if she had no emotional attachment to this estate, she hated to see how this was affecting him. “It’s possible I wake up in this time with you,” she said as she struggled to give him a reason to hope. “If that happens, then you’ll know the future has changed from the one I was in.”

  “Yes, I suppose that would be true. It’s also possible when you wake up, you’ll be back in your time.” His shoulders slumped. “If you do, stay there. Don’t come through the portal. You don’t want to live through the hell I’ve been through all of these years.”

  She bit her tongue so she wouldn’t respond. She knew he had offered the warning for her benefit, but she was enjoying spending this time with him. Yes, she’d just met him, but she rather liked him. Would it be wrong to hope she didn’t return back to her time when tomorrow came?

  She considered what she would do if she happened to wake up tomorrow and find herself back in the future. While it made the most sense to stay there, especially after knowing Julian was stuck repeating the same day over and over, she didn’t think she would do it. She had a nagging suspicion that if she woke up tomorrow in her time, she’d most likely come back here, the consequences be damned.

  Chapter Twelve

  That afternoon when the rain was at its lightest for the day, Julian summoned the butler to take him and Willow out in the carriage. “Stop before we reach the bridge,” Julian instructed him.

  Willow had accepted the cloak he’d given her. It was surprisingly cool inside the mansion. She recalled it feeling a bit chilly in her time when it had rained, so this wasn’t different. For some reason, though, being stuck in a home without the modern convenience of a furnace made it feel colder than it really was. Just knowing she couldn’t adjust a thermostat probably made her more aware of the chill around her.

  Now, as she sat in the carriage next to Julian, she was really glad for the cloak. It not only braced her from the cool day, but it had a hood that would protect her face from the drizzle. She had no idea if they had umbrellas in this time. Julian had only put on a hat and a cloak of his own.

  “It’s surprisingly chilly for a summer day,” Willow said in an attempt to break the silence.

  He opened his eyes and turned his gaze to her, and it suddenly occurred to her just how exhausted he was. She supposed that was to be expected given how long he’d been forced to repeat the same day over and over. She was tempted to put her arm around his or offer some kind of touch in hope it might bring him some comfort, but she refrained from the impulse. She hardly knew him. He would think she was strange if she acted in such a forward manner.

  Strange. Or desperate.

  “The rain makes things colder,” he replied. “The sun warms things up.”

  “You’ve had rain every single day? The weather doesn’t chang
e at all?”

  “Everything is the same. I can instruct the servants to do something different, but if I don’t, they do and say the same things they did on the first June 17. Except for remembering every day as it happens, I don’t age.”

  She shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold. “I know being stuck is awful regardless of the weather, but it’s a shame June 17, 1817 wasn’t a sunny day.”

  “I don’t know. The rain sets the right mood for it. On some days, it’s soothing.”

  Maybe it would be. All of this dreariness probably comforted him in some sad way. She looked out the window. The view was so different without the tall shrubs. She could see the hills in the distance. It almost didn’t seem like the same place with this change. But her gaze went to the moat surrounding the property, and she was assured she really was in the same place.

  “I wish I could go to your time,” he said. “It’d be nice to break the cycle.”

  Her gaze went back to him, and once more, she had to resist the urge to touch him. “I hope when you wake up tomorrow it will be June 18. I hope that the magic in the barrier connecting our times will force things to move forward for you again.”

  “Even if it doesn’t, at least I’ve had this day. It’s the best one I’ve had in two centuries.” He grew silent for a moment then softly added, “It’s been nice having you here to talk to.”

  Heat rose up to her cheeks. Before she could enjoy the compliment too much, she reasoned that he would say this to anyone who crossed over into this time. It wasn’t necessarily her.

  And that was to be expected, wasn’t it? She couldn’t imagine how hard this had been for him. She was fortunate. All she’d dealt with was being stuck on the property for less than a month.

  They grew silent until the carriage came to a stop. He didn’t bother waiting for the butler to open the door. He jumped out of the carriage and offered to help her down.

  She accepted his hand. “Thank you.” Once her feet were on a part of the path that wasn’t forming a puddle, she added, “In the future, men don’t often help women out of things like carriages.”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged. How could she best explain this to someone in his time? “Acts of chivalry just aren’t done. I’m the first one to say it’s good for women to be seen as equal to men, but it is nice when a man does little things like open doors and help a woman down from the carriage.”

  “I’ve never considered a lady to be inferior to me,” he said in a way that indicated he felt insulted.

  “From what I’ve learned about the 1800s, I don’t think women were business owners or political leaders. Were they? Am I wrong?”

  “There are a few who run businesses in the middle class, though their husbands are officially the owner. As for leadership, no. That is strictly a gentleman’s pursuit. However, I will admit that some ladies consider themselves fortunate when their husbands die, but that’s because their husbands didn’t really care about them. I can’t imagine any gentleman who loves his wife treating her in a way that will make her think of his death as offering her freedom.”

  She considered his words and could see the validity in them. “You’re right. She wouldn’t if he loved her. If he loved her, he would treat her well.” She glanced at the butler, who was standing not too far from them. “Anyway, I just think it was nice you offered a chivalrous gesture, that’s all. Are you ready to go to the bridge?”

  He offered a nod, and they headed for it.

  “Did you put the moat in?” she asked.

  “No, my grandfather did,” he replied. “He seemed to think the property needed to be protected.” He chuckled. “Isn’t that funny? It’s not the property that needs protecting. It’s the owners of it who need to be protected from the property.”

  She frowned. “I wonder if he knew something important about this place. Did he explain what this property needed protection from?”

  “I never spoke to him. He was deceased before I was old enough to remember him. My father often said that he wished he had listened to him more. My mother said my grandfather was superstitious. She said he saw shadows where there wasn’t anything to worry about. She wasn’t talking about actual shadows. These were things to be wary of. Little dangers here and there. Things produced by a wild imagination.”

  “Maybe his imagination wasn’t so wild. Do you have anything that belonged to him in the attic?”

  “Yes, there’s a trunk with his things in it. Do you think there’s something important in it?”

  “We won’t know unless we look.”

  “We’ll look after dinner,” he said. “When we return, we’ll both need to change clothes. The rain is light, but we’ll still be cold and wet. I’ll have one of the maids assist you with your hair and dress.”

  Before she could ask him why he made such a strange offer since she assumed even people in this time dressed themselves, they reached the bridge. Deciding the bridge was more important, she joined him as he walked onto the stone surface.

  He stopped halfway on the bridge and touched the air. She saw the waves of pink and purple radiate from his hand and travel in both directions down the moat.

  He gasped and stepped back. “Those colors have never happened before,” he told her. “Did you see them?”

  “Pink and purple ripples?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “I saw them,” she said. “They go all the way down the moat.”

  “Do they?” He took a step forward and touched the barrier again. The same colors sent ripples down the entire length of the moat. He touched it several more times, and the ripples went at a faster pace. “Why didn’t I see them before?”

  That was a good question. She was sure it was significant that he hadn’t noticed those colors until now. Like the pieces of parchment, he hadn’t noticed the pink glow before, either. These things couldn’t be a coincidence. Was there something about her arrival that changed things in this time?

  “What did you see before?” she asked.

  “Nothing. It was just like the air around us.” His gaze went to the butler who was standing by the carriage, looking bored but willing to patiently wait for them. “Do you see any colors?” he called out to the butler as he touched the barrier again.

  The butler’s eyebrows furrowed. “Colors, my lord?”

  “When I put my hand up here, do you see anything?” Julian touched the spot again.

  The butler shook his head. “I’m sorry, my lord, but I don’t see any unusual colors.”

  Julian looked at her. “Only you and I see them.”

  “I saw them every time I tried to cross the bridge in my time,” she told him. “I saw them when I crossed over into this time through that mirror, too.” She put her hand up and pushed it forward. Resistance pushed back at her, and the pink and purple ripples went down the length of the moat. She tried another part of the barrier, and the same thing happened. “It looks like I’m stuck here with you.”

  “What happens if we put our hands on this invisible wall at the same time?”

  Intrigued, she put her hand back up to the barrier and waited for him to do the same. She blinked in surprise when she saw that instead of pink and purple, she saw red and gold ripples. But even though that was different, neither one could get through the barrier.

  “This is getting weirder and weirder all the time,” she whispered.

  “Weirder?” he asked.

  “Strange. Odd. Unreal.” She dropped her hand and a blast of cool air coursed through her. She shivered and pulled the cloak more tightly around her body.

  “I felt it, too,” he said. “It was like a sudden burst of air without the wind.”

  “I think it’s magic,” she replied. “Something, or someone, doesn’t want us to leave, and it probably wants us in the same time. That’s why I could only step through the mirror, and it’s why the mirror exploded.”

  “We can’t be sure that you’re trapped here. You might wake up tomorrow and be b
ack in your time.”

  “I guess. I mean, anything’s possible.” She wouldn’t have believed all of this was possible before, but so much had changed since she stepped on this property. Who knew inheriting a property could lead to such craziness?

  “Have you tried swimming across the moat?” he asked.

  “No. The thought didn’t occur to me.”

  “I’ve tried it, and it does no good. The moat has the same barrier in it. I tried swimming through different sections of it. The thing is deep. If you were to take a horse across it, it would drown. This bridge is the only safe passage in or out of here.” After a moment, he added, “I don’t think there’s anything else to do, at least not right now. Are you ready to return to the manor?”

  “Yes.” As he pointed out, there was nothing else to do, and she wasn’t going to try to swim across the moat. For one, she doubted she’d make it past the barrier. And two, she bet that water was cold.

  “Once we get inside, I’ll summon a maid to help you.”

  “About that,” she said as they headed for the carriage. “Why do you think I need a maid? I dress and comb my hair in my own time.”

  “In this time, a maid helps the mistress of the estate do those things. Plus, she sees to bringing up the bath or any other thing the mistress needs. I know we’re not married, but you did inherit this estate. It’s only right that you’re given the treatment due to your status. It is unfortunate there are no living males. I hate knowing my title eventually becomes extinct.”

  “I have no idea how these things with titles work. The only thing I know about England is that there are kings and queens and princes and princesses.”

  “Yes, we have them in this time, too. We also have dukes, marquees, earls, viscounts, barons, baronets, and knights.”

  “I remember a singer being knighted by the queen, but that was only because it was mentioned in a paper in America. I didn’t read the article. I only read the headline.”

  “A singer was knighted?”

  “It sounded like it was important from the picture on the paper. A bunch of attention was paid to it.”

 

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