by Gloria Gay
“Wow, I bet I’m now confusing you even more since you don’t even know what a surfer is. My explanation is probably flawed, Jestyn, so it’s only to give you the general idea.”
“Birds use air currents,” said Jestyn. “I believe I know what you mean, Jane.”
“Good. So, are you convinced I’m not of your era, Jestyn?”
“It would be hard not to believe you, with all this proof before me,” Jestyn assured her. “No one could have made up such things. I have often wondered how it will be a hundred – two hundred years from now. I read assiduously of any new invention because I believe with each new invention our way of life changes, bit by bit. I, too, am always trying to find new ways of doing things in the farm and to adapt any new way of doing things that I believe has merit. I can assure you, few of my peers feel the way I do. Most of them resist any kind of change, even the small changes that will improve their farms.”
“I’m glad you’re that way, Jestyn. So what do you think of all these things I have shown you?”
“I have a feeling I’m in a dream,” Jestyn replied. “I feel any moment I will wake up and you will be gone and all was just a dream. I hope you are real, Jane.”
“I think I am,” Jane said with a smile. They had made the distance between them smaller as they talked. Jane could feel his sweet breath.
“Jestyn gazed fondly at the picture of the jetliner.
“Well, I have no doubt that if you were in the year 2015, you would be an airline pilot. You seem to be drawn to that career,” Jane responded.
“The Druids believed in magic,” Jestyn said. “Their religion centered on a magical existence.”
“Yes, Jestyn, I know. I have read a lot about it. In fact, that was why I had made it a point of visiting your estate with my mother when I was fourteen, because this area is magical. I had written a report about the Druids and was proud of it because my essay had won a city contest. I wrote about the magic triangle in the area of Stonehenge.
“So my family’s background was what pulled you to our estate,” Jestyn said in wonder. “That’s amazing – that and your mother’s background. Perhaps there is a connection there that we may find in the books and journals in the library. Tell me about that visit you made with the tour group. That was when you saw my house for the second time?”
“Yes. We sat around the drawing-room, a bunch of tourists that want to experience a tea in one of the large estates.
“I had to visit a lot of government and crown buildings in preparation for my job in London so I alternated it with a lighter dose of tourist fare. I had told my best friend and co-worker, Cybil Steeley that I had made that same tour with my mother when I was fourteen years old and had at the that time touched your hand on the painting and it had felt warm. Cybil had become very interested in it and was anxious to take the tour again with me. She said it would be exciting to see if she could see the pendant in your portrait that I had mentioned and also to see me touch your hand and see if it was warm, as I had also told her.
“Many of the estates hold these tea tours in order to make money for the upkeep of the estates. The tourists were expressing their resentment that you were not of the aristocracy–not a lord–in particular one of them, a most unpleasant, loud woman. Then Miss Finchley, the woman who was our tour guide, rolled her eyes so that only I could see her and explained that in many instances the “untitled aristocracy” as they were called were of far better quality and lineage than many in the gentry and nobility and that they owned more land.
“I remember telling that woman, jokingly, that were you to suddenly appear among us there you would probably say, “Miss Finchley, who are these people?”
Jestyn laughed and his laughter was like warm honey going down Jane’s throat. She felt a sizzling pooling in her belly and realized how easy it would be to fall in love with him. She was already on her way there and that road held only heartache.
She sighed and pulled her mind away from him. She was glad that he was open to new ideas and from what Jane had seen, Jestyn ran his inherited estate very well and was open to new inventions.
“We don’t even belong to the gentry,” he told Jane, “since you have to have a sir before your name to belong,” he said. “My family refused even knighthood titles through the ages. It became a family tradition. ‘Landed gentry’ is a sort of honorary title for the families that are like us.”
“Are there many more families like yours, then, that refused titles?”
“Oh, yes. It was one way of not having your estate confiscated by either side. There was little difference between the warring counties back then. Often loyalty or disloyalty to one royal family branch was enough to cause a war. Our family goes back to before the invasion of William the Conqueror.
“The more things you show me the more I become enthralled with your time and want to be with you when you go back,” Jestyn added, surprising Jane.
“But that’s probably not possible,” he added. “If the pendant works it will most likely be able to transport the person it brought here.”
“You are tempted to go to the future?” asked Jane.
“If you think coming back here was an adventure, just think how it would be for me!”
Jestyn ran his fingers over Jane’s smart phone. “I have often wondered how things would be in the future, many years hence. I am unlike my contemporaries in that way. They live in their age and would not dream to change it. Only scientists and philosophers think of the future.
“Please tell me some of your concerns, and I will try to help in any way I can. I imagine it must be terrifying to be more than two hundred years into the past with nothing that is familiar to comfort you.”
“You comfort me, Jestyn,” Jane said and she impulsively pressed his hand. “You don’t know how horrible it would have been for me without your help and friendship.”
Jestyn pressed Jane’s hand over hers and they hugged. Then as they reluctantly separated, Jane went on:
“My money is worthless here; my credit cards useless.”
“What are credit cards?”
“That card I showed you – it’s for a line of credit. You know about credit – surely you must charge things–”
“I certainly know about credit, and about dunning letters,” Jestyn cut in with a laugh. “But how does it work with that strange card you showed me?”
“Well, the numbers on it are my own personal account numbers. Once I want to charge something, the clerk puts it through a machine – a computer register – and it is deducted electronically from the limit of my account.”
“Computers – electronically?”
“I don’t think I want to go into all that right now, Jestyn. Later on, when my mind is clearer, I shall try to explain to you what computers and micro-chips are, but I can assure you I’m no techie so my explanation will be as rudimentary as my description of a jetliner was. But for now, the immediate problem before me is that I’m forced to depend on you for my subsistence.”
“Please, Jane, you offend me by being concerned with my hospitality. You saved my life and Cedric’s. You are a stranger in a land that is alien to you because it is in another time, and you are presently in my care. I will do everything in my power to help you get back but during the time you are under my roof, you are my guest, indefinitely, until you are able to return to your time.”
“Thank you, Jestyn,” Jane sighed with relief. “And by the way,” she said, “I have been meaning to ask you, how is your brother, Cedric? Is he recovering from his head wound?”
“Yes. And he is most anxious to speak with you. I have explained your predicament. You can imagine how astounded he was. But even so I could sense skepticism. I will have to show him these things you have shown me because it would be difficult to convince him that you have come from the future without showing the proof to him. But you can be assured of his complete confidence.”
“Is there a cabinet in your house with a secure lock in which you ca
n lock my handbag?” Jane asked, as she hurriedly replaced everything she had taken from her large bag, except for the stone pendant, which she kept around her neck, and her flashlight. She glanced at Nellie, who still sat at the door, apparently out of earshot, for the room was huge.
“After I show the contents of your knapsack to Cedric I will lock them away in a safe place, Jane,”
“I believe it’s nearing the time for your luncheon,” he added, rising from his chair.
He gathered Jane’s bag that she handed to him and taking a hold of Jane’s hand, he kissed it warmly.
“I will now leave you to your rest. We can talk again this afternoon,”
“Jestyn?”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you believe me. It makes a big difference.”
“Of course I believe you. The proof is indisputable. But I would advise you to try to fit in the age you now live in and to not mention any of this to anyone. We cannot know what people’s reactions will be. As I told you before, Devon is highly superstitious country.”
“What kind of reactions?” asked Jane. A shiver ran through her.
“This is the area where the last witches were burned at the stake in England, Jane, and although most people believe themselves very modern now, there are still many who hold their superstitious close to their hearts.”
“How long ago were the last witches burned, Jestyn?”
“I believe about a hundred years ago.”
“That doesn’t seem like a long time ago in your era. Things change very slowly here compared to the future where I am from.”
“These objects you have shown me are dangerous if viewed by people who should not see them. They would be misunderstood. You would be misunderstood and that could place you in jeopardy, Jane. I will do my best so that during the time you are here you will not be in danger.”
“I’m glad you call me Jane.”
“I’m glad too, Jane. But as I said, I cannot call you by your given name in public. We must be careful about that.”
“All right,” Jane agreed, feeling that her smile as she gazed at him must make her glow because a feeling of elation wrapped around her each time she was in Jestyn’s company.
CHAPTER 9
Jane realized no one at the Greywick estate did anything in a quick way. She had requested newspapers and when these were finally brought to her she breathed with relief, for the papers would give her something to do even though she had to rest between articles for she had to hold the newspaper above her face and it was exhausting. But the doctor had ordered that her head should be still for a few days so that the swelling would go down.
Jane felt as if she were tied to the bed, depending for everything on the maids. But even though she didn’t like it she followed the doctor’s orders for she wanted to heal as quickly as possible.
Though they did try to make her life pleasant Jane often caught the servants looking at her and then at each other. She realized that Jestyn was right when he said people were afraid of anything they did not understand and she was as big a puzzle as had landed there in ages. So she limited her words to them and suppressed any requests that might seem alien to them. Of the servants it was only with Nellie that she felt completely at ease.
There were a lot of smells, some of them hardly nice. And flies! She was amazed at how many flies buzzed about and how annoying they were. The estate farm had pigs and chickens as well as cows and a great number of horses. This was because there were so many carriages about in place of automobiles.
People hardly seemed to notice either the smells or the flies, at least not as much as she did. They merely brushed them aside as they spoke, as if they were of no concern.
She felt like re-inventing the fly-swatter and passing a few of them around.
Jestyn dropped in to see her once in the morning and once in the afternoon and always left the door wide open, for another concern was that unmarried men and women did not spend time together in private without a chaperone because it would give rise to talk.
Jane looked forward to Jestyn’s visits with a great deal of anticipation. She thought that it was probably obvious to him, for on the third day of her stay he made a tentative suggestion:
“I was wondering if you would like to have lunch with me each day until you are able to be moved downstairs,” he said with trepidation.
“I’d love it!” Jestyn smiled at the quick way in which she had responded.
That very same day lunch for two was served in Jane’s bedroom and her days were shortened considerably. Now the time between lunch and tea, which he also spent with her, flew for Jane, with the help of a few books from the extensive Greywick library that Jestyn brought to her.
“The wonderful library at Greywick was one of the rooms we were allowed to see in the tour I took of your estate,” she said to Jestyn over a delicious lunch of salmon in a creamed asparagus sauce, vegetable compote and a dessert of raspberry crumb cake drowned in a delicious clotted cream the likes of which Jane had never before tasted. So delicious was the meal she almost didn’t mind the flies buzzing about.
“I’m glad the books are helping to make the time go faster for you,” Jestyn said as their hands brushed when he took the dessert plate from her. Jane felt an electric current shoot out from their touch that lingered even as he placed her dessert plate on the small table that had been placed by her bed.
Jane shut away the instant image of her departure from Greywick that came to her mind – leaving Jestyn forever, never to see him again. A very real pain clutched at her heart.
She would deal with that when the time for her departure came, she told herself, but not at this moment, not when Jestyn’s nearness was sending delicious shudders of pleasure throughout her body. She wanted so much to kiss him but she knew that even though she could feel he had that same thought, Nellie, intensely concentrating in her sewing by the door made that impossible.
“Dr. Lenn is coming this afternoon,” Jestyn said as they sipped their glass of white wine, as if reading her thoughts. “I fear the time when you will leave. I will miss you more than you know.”
“And I, Jestyn. I shall miss you, too – so very much!” Jane said, almost in a whisper. Yet she wondered exactly how she would be able to leave. Jestyn seemed to have the same thought, for he looked deeply into her eyes. “You will be able to return to your time. We’ll find a way,” he said.
With a glance at Nellie, whose head was slightly turned away from them, he raised his hand to Jane’s face and slid the back of his hand slowly down her cheek.
Jane grabbed his hand and held it against her face for a moment until noises along the corridor by her bedroom made her let go of his hand quickly.
She was setting herself up for heartache,” she thought, as the maids came in and began to clear their lunch plates, while both she and Jestyn were immersed in a charged silence. Jane felt her pulse quicken as he gazed silently at her while the maids puttered around them.
Once they had gone, Jestyn reached for Jane’s hand again.
The seconds went by as they remained thus, joined by their hands. Jane felt safe and warmed throughout by her hand in his and wanted the moment to last for a long time. Jestyn must have felt thus too, for he let go only because the time for Dr. Lenn’s visit was nearing.
“I heard a carriage out front,” he said. “I think Dr. Lenn has arrived.”
“I hope he’ll allow me to go downstairs, Jestyn.”
“I hope so, too.”
***
The following day and to her great relief, Jane was allowed to sit in the large drawing room, where she and Jestyn could speak in private if they lowered their voices as they were doing at the moment. Now that she was recovering, Jestyn assured her, she would be able to leave soon, as that was her wish. He had said this with wistfulness, assuring Jane that he did not look forward to that day.
Aunt Florinda, who had been ill with a bad cold and confined to her room was now up and about. Jane immed
iately liked the dear old lady, who had the sweetest blue eyes Jane had ever seen.
“Aunt Florinda will now be our chaperone, Jane.”
“Never fear, Miss Fielder. I will be immersed in my embroidery and will leave you two young people to your conversation,” she said with a wink, which endeared her further to Jane.
“Aunt Florinda was always my favorite aunt as a child,” Jestyn said, giving the sweet old lady a hug.
“Please call me Jane.”
“Thank you, Jane, and while you remain here, I would like for you to call me aunt.”
“Thank you, Aunt. I like that.”
“How do you feel about going to the library and starting our search?” Jestyn asked. Aunt Florinda will accompany us, won’t you dear?”
“Oh yes, dear,” Aunt Florinda replied. “There are some botanical books with lovely plates of plants and flowers I have been meaning to peruse again,” she told him.
“Come, Jane, I believe you can manage with the crutches. It’s just across the hall beyond the drawing room.”
The library was a huge room and once seated at a large oak table, Jane waited until Jestyn, rummaging around in a locked cabinet, brought out a few journals, while Aunt Florinda settled far from them with a couple of the books she liked.
“These, at least, are not dusty, since they have been locked away,” he said. Looks like there’s a dozen. Many of my ancestors felt the need to write down their thoughts, apparently.”
“Have you read them, Jestyn?”
“I read two or three of the journals when I came into my inheritance and curious as to our history. I’m afraid the day by day accounting of events that were very ordinary did not hold my attention for too long.”
“I’ll start with this one,” Jane said, referring to a leather-bound book with a faded rose ribbon as marker.
Jestyn looked into the first page. “That was written by my great-great grandmother Julia Pinker. She married my great-great grandfather Samuel Hutton Greywick at the age of fifteen.”