An Earl In Time

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An Earl In Time Page 11

by Ruth Ann Nordin


  “I can’t imagine a singer being knighted unless he performed some great feat in battle. Was this singer in a war?”

  She laughed. “No. He was just a popular singer who sold a lot of albums.” By the expression on his face, she could tell he didn’t understand why that was important. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like it changes anything about our situation.”

  Though they walked along the drier patches of the road, mud found its way to the soles of her shoes. Now she could appreciate the invention of pavement.

  They reached the carriage, and the butler opened the door for them. Since Julian had helped her down, she wondered if she was supposed to wait for him to help her back into the carriage, and sure enough, he held his hand out to assist her, which was good since the mud made her shoes slippery.

  She sat on the seat and spread out the gown and cloak so that she was comfortable. This was a lot different from wearing pants. She had to figure out a way to sit down and be comfortable with a gown tucked around her legs. It was a shame everyone in this time would freak out if she went back to wearing her t-shirt and jeans.

  Julian settled beside her, and the butler shut the door.

  “Do the servants usually go around opening and shutting doors?” she asked.

  He seemed amused by the question. “They don’t follow me around all day to open and shut doors, but when going in or out of the manor or carriage, they do. If someone can’t afford a servant to do the task for them, then they have to open and shut their own doors all the time.”

  “God forbid anyone should be stuck with such a cruel fate,” she joked.

  He chuckled. “I admit that I’m spoiled that way. Wealth has its advantages.”

  “That’s true in any time period.”

  She returned his smile then directed her attention to the small window as the carriage moved forward.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Julian took more time getting dressed for dinner that day than he usually did. In fact, most days, he didn’t bother changing into his evening outfit because there was no point in it. But he had a reason to do it today. For the first time in over two centuries, he had a guest. And not just any guest. This was someone who understood what he was going through. Though their situations weren’t exactly the same, they were similar enough where he didn’t feel so alone in the world.

  As his valet adjusted the cravat around his neck, he was struck with the hope that when he woke up the next morning, Willow would still be here. Whether he repeated the day or not didn’t even matter. He just didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  It was a terrible thing to even be tempted to hope she’d have to stay here with him. What kind of person would wish this fate on someone else?

  He closed his eyes. The long and painful years were more pronounced today than they’d been at any other time in his life.

  He tried to remember the last time he’d had a happy day. He supposed that would have been the day Francis came to his townhouse in London to tell him about his betrothal.

  Sometimes that all seemed like it had happened to someone else. He was so far removed from all he’d known and loved. Had it been sunny the day Francis told him about the engagement? He couldn’t even remember if it’d been sunny on the day he left London.

  The valet finished with his cravat and asked, “Is there anything else you need, my lord?”

  Julian opened his eyes and shook his head. “No, that is all.”

  He waited for the valet to leave before he checked his reflection in the mirror. It’d been a long time since he cared about the way he looked. He told himself that having a guest for the first time in a very long time was reason enough to look his best, but another part of him, one he’d rather not acknowledge, argued there was another reason altogether.

  He started to leave his bedchamber but glanced at the door connecting his room with the one Willow was in. No. He couldn’t go in through that way. She might still be getting ready for dinner. And besides, such intimacy was only between a husband and wife.

  He continued on his way out of the room then went to the door of her bedchamber and knocked on it.

  A moment later, a maid answered the door.

  He was tempted to peer around the maid to see how close Willow was to being done but decided against it when he considered she might not be appropriately attired yet. “Would you tell Miss Knudson that I’ll be in the drawing room?”

  The maid said she would, so he turned down the hall. He glanced at the wall where the barrier between his world and Willow’s had been. The strange object had not returned to the space it’d been for all of these years. Would he wake up tomorrow and find it had been returned? It had returned every time he’d managed to destroy it in the past. But this was different. It had destroyed itself.

  Exactly how did magic work?

  Taking an uncertain breath, he continued down the hall and went to the drawing room. He had no idea how things would go from here. He supposed all he could do was get the most enjoyment from this day possible.

  He took the candelabra from the top of the fireplace and set it on the desk. He would light the candles when they were ready to go back to the attic to check his grandfather’s trunk. Or trunks. He couldn’t remember how much any of his ancestors had left behind.

  The rain was coming heavier now. He glanced at the window and saw it pelting against the glass. He wouldn’t mind seeing the sun again. It’d been so long since he’d felt its warmth on his face. The closest thing he had to compare it to was the feel of the flame of a candle near his skin. He could close his eyes and pretend to be outside. He hadn’t done that in a very long time.

  There were many things he hadn’t done in a very long time. There were many things he hadn’t felt in a very long time, the most significant one being hope. He’d forgotten how nice hope was. It might be the best emotion a person could experience. What good was any other emotion without hope?

  The butler came into the room with a tray of tea and crumpets, but he stumbled forward and dropped them. “Oh, I-I’m terribly sorry,” the butler said as he started to retrieve the items from the floor.

  In all that happened, Julian had forgotten the butler always did that. He should have asked one of the maids to bring in something.

  “It’s all right,” Julian said as he hurried to pull the cord to summon the maid.

  “I’m not usually so clumsy.” The butler finished putting the empty teapot, cups, and soiled crumpets on the tray. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “It’s the day,” Julian replied. “Nothing can be blamed for it.” And who knew if the butler would remember this tomorrow?

  The maid came into the room, and Julian asked her to clean the remaining mess while the butler headed out of the room.

  The maid left to get her cleaning supplies, leaving Julian alone once more. But this time, he had something to look forward to. Willow would join him for dinner this evening.

  He went to the doorway just as she was heading toward him. Instinctively, he smiled at the sight of her. It might have been a long time since he’d seen the ladies in London, but he couldn’t remember any of them looking as lovely as she did.

  She wore a red gown with a gold ribbon tied just under her breasts. The bottom of the gown was edged in lace with a gold trim. Her slippers were a nice golden color. He didn’t recall ever seeing his mother in the gown, but he recalled pulling it from the trunk. His mother had had a lot of gowns. Some were still in the trunk. If Willow were to end up staying here, he would have to get the rest of them out for her.

  His gaze went to her dark hair. The maid had fashioned it into an attractive style. She had pulled most of Willow’s hair up with hairpins but had allowed some of the curls to frame her pretty face. Then his gaze went to the rest of Willow’s body, and he felt warmth creep up his face. He forced his attention to go back to her face.

  Willow reached him. “I’ve never worn anything this fancy before. I feel odd. Do I look okay?”
/>   “You look perfect,” he replied. He didn’t know what she could have done to look any better.

  “It must be the clothes and hairstyle. I’m not used to it. I feel like I’m dressing up for a Halloween costume party or something.”

  “Halloween costume party?”

  “It’s a thing where people dress up as someone else and dance and have a good time. Do you ever dress up in clothes you don’t ordinarily wear?”

  “I’ve been to masquerade balls where we hide most of our faces with a mask.”

  “That’s kind of what a costume party is.” She glanced down the hall. “Are we supposed to go directly to the dining room?”

  “We’ll wait for the butler to tell us dinner is ready. We can wait in here.” He waved to the settee. “Take care not to step in that.” He pointed to the spot where the butler had dropped the tray. “The maid will be in to clean it.”

  He waited until she was sitting before he settled beside her.

  She pointed to his portrait that was on the wall. “That survived the centuries. Just the other day, I was sitting in here and looking at that.”

  “My father insisted I get my portrait done when I was twenty. A lot of gentlemen do it.”

  “Did you want to get it done?”

  “I didn’t mind it, but it wasn’t easy to stand still for all those hours. It ended up taking almost a week in total to do.”

  Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “That long?”

  “The artist wanted to get all of the details in.”

  “You only recently came here from London, didn’t you?”

  “If you forget the two centuries that have passed, I did,” he said. “I grew up here and then went to London. Before the night I got the missive, I didn’t have any trouble leaving this property.”

  “It’s magic. It has to be magic. There’s no other way to explain it. Before all of this, I would have looked for a scientific reason to explain all this, but some things can’t be explained by science.”

  “It’s hard to believe in something as ridiculous as magic.”

  “I know, but how else can you explain it?”

  He shrugged. “Unfortunately, I can’t.”

  “Since there is no logical reason for all of this, then all we can do is accept the possibility that something beyond science is at work.”

  “Something like magic.”

  Willow nodded.

  The maid came into the room to clean the rug just as the butler told them dinner was ready.

  The conversation at an end for the moment, Julian rose from the settee and escorted Willow to the dining room.

  ***

  After dinner, Julian set the candelabra on the ledge of the windowsill in the attic. Ignoring the rain as it beat against the windowpane, he started lifting the sheets from the trunks.

  “I don’t remember where my grandfather’s things were packed,” he told Willow.

  She glanced around the attic and shivered. “It’s spooky at night up here.”

  “That’s the nature of attics. They’re not places one wants to visit past sunset. If I knew I was going to wake up tomorrow morning with you here on June 18, I’d wait for tomorrow to do this.”

  “I understand. We have to make the most of the time we have. I don’t know what to expect, either.”

  He found an older trunk under one of the sheets and unlatched it so he could look at the contents in it. “This is it. This is my grandfather’s trunk.” He removed the sheet completely from it then went to grab the candelabra. He set it on a nearby covered trunk.

  Willow walked up to him and examined the contents. “There are no clothes in here. It’s just a bunch of old books and journals.”

  He lifted a couple of books out and read the titles. Irish Folklore. Maps of Ireland. Myths and Legends from the Irish.

  Willow pulled out one of the hardbound books. “Leprechauns and Gold,” she read.

  “I wager those have something to do with Ireland. All of these books seem to have something to do with that country,” he replied as he sorted through the rest of the books.

  “Growing up, there was this cereal I ate that involved a leprechaun.” When he glanced at her in surprise, she laughed. “I don’t mean I ate a leprechaun. The cereal was made up of whole grain oats and marshmallows. The leprechaun was a cartoon. It was a made-up character that was the symbol for the cereal. There were commercials of kids always trying to get the cereal from him.”

  He didn’t have the slightest idea what she was talking about, but he figured that was to be expected since this was something that occurred in the future.

  She cleared her throat. “Anyway, because of the cereal, I know leprechauns come from Irish folklore. So it fits with the rest of the books your grandfather had.”

  “What about fairies?” He retrieved another book and showed her the title that read, Fairies: Family Divisions & Levels of Magic.

  “All I know about fairies is what I’ve seen in movies, and I saw those when I was a child. Movies are a big thing in the future. But I don’t know if fairies are a thing in Irish folklore or not. I assume they are if they’re lumped in with the rest of these books.”

  “I’ve never been to Ireland. I don’t know anything about it except that it’s really green over there because of the rain.”

  “It is. I’ve seen movies that were filmed there.”

  He wondered what movies were. It seemed like they must be important since she had mentioned them a couple of times. Perhaps it was how they received education. Maybe they didn’t use books in the future.

  She took the book from him. “It mentions magic in the title. We’re bound here by something I can only describe as magic. Is it possible that fairies have something to do with this?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t believe in fairies.”

  “I didn’t, either, until seeing this. One thing I am certain of is that magic is behind everything. Your grandfather knew something. It has something to do with Ireland, leprechauns, and fairies. Why else would he have these books here?”

  That was a good question. His grandfather had owned these books, and yet, they hadn’t been put in the library. They were tucked away in a trunk in this attic. Was there a reason for that?

  His gaze went to the worn journal at the top of the pile. He picked it up and opened it. Most of it seemed to be drawings his grandfather had made of maps. The maps weren’t exactly the same, but they were similar. He picked up another journal. This one also contained maps, but these had been marked with detailed illustrations of natural features like rivers, hills, and caves.

  Willow picked up another journal and searched through it as Julian tried to make sense of the paths that seemed to have no rhyme or reason to them.

  “He actually wrote in this one,” Willow said as she showed him the journal she was holding.

  He looked at it and saw that it seemed to be a diary, for there were dated entries.

  “This is hard to read,” she said as she squinted at it. “It’s too bad this wasn’t typed out.”

  He read a couple of lines in the journal. He had to agree that his grandfather’s handwriting wasn’t the easiest to decipher.

  She yawned, and he realized how late the hour was. Unfortunately, they weren’t going to get any answers tonight. They were only beginning to discover what might be useful information.

  Who knew if she’d even be here tomorrow or even if tomorrow would be a new day? One thing he did know was that nothing ever disappeared. Since all of these books and journals were here on the evening of June 16, they would stay here. That meant he could keep searching for answers.

  He glanced at her as she closed the journal and set it on the other journals. Regardless of whether she was going to be with him tomorrow, he owed it to both of them to follow the clues in these books and journals to the end. Maybe if he could free himself from this curse, he could free her, too.

  She collected some books, and he hurried to gather the rest of them and the journal
s. He rose to his feet, and since he had a lot more to carry than she did, he asked, “Would you carry the candelabra downstairs?”

  She nodded and went to retrieve it.

  He escorted her down to the floor where the bedchambers were. He knew it would be appropriate for her to retire to the bedchamber he had given her to use, but he hated the idea of being alone for the rest of the night. Until midnight, at least, he most wanted to have her with him.

  “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to stay with me in the library for the night?” he asked. “There’s a comfortable settee in there you can rest on. I want to continue looking through these books and journals.”

  “I understand,” she replied. “If I was in your shoes, I wouldn’t want to be alone, either. I’ll go to the library with you.”

  He wasn’t sure what the thing about shoes was about, but he was too relieved to care. It was already 10:15. That only left him with an hour and forty-five minutes.

  “You should bring a blanket,” he said. “It’ll be a bit chilly down there. I can get it for you.”

  “A blanket is a good idea.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief and went to get a blanket for her. It was wrong of him to hope she would still be here when the clock struck midnight. He should wish for her to be able to go back. Though, if she was also stuck on the property, what difference would it make? At least if she was here, he could make sure she was all right.

  He returned to the hallway with a thick blanket and led her down to the library.

  “This place is downright spooky when it’s night,” she said.

  He felt a smile tug at his lips. “It’s not for the weak of heart. But you have nothing to worry about. It’s safe.”

  The butler came into the room as Julian and Willow set the books and journals on the desk. “Would you like something to eat or drink?”

  “I wouldn’t mind some tea,” Julian said with a glance at Willow.

  “I don’t need anything,” she replied. “I’m not thirsty or hungry.”

 

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