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A Bridge Through Time: (Time Travel)

Page 10

by Gloria Gay


  “I will show you when we go down.” He stood up. “The underground part of it was built with blocks of stone and is all that remains. The upper part was destroyed several centuries ago and the cottage built over it when my ancestors came in possession of the land. It was given to them as a gift for their service to the then regent.

  “I wanted no one to know about this place because I was certain it held a mystic magic connected to my Druid ancestors.

  “How did you know about it, Cannidge?” Jestyn asked. “How did you know that there was more underground after your ancestor had stopped digging?”

  “I had read about it in some scrolls I will show you when we go back up, Mr. Greywick.”

  They reached a large room with a low ceiling. He crossed the room and when he reached the end of it he leaned and tossed aside a heavy square of rug.

  There was a trap door under the rug and he lifted it with ease. Jane and Jestyn leaned down to see stairs leading down even deeper into gloom. Jestyn glanced at Jane, uncertain if she wanted to continue on down. She nodded and they followed Cannidge. Jane and Jestyn turned on Jane’s flashlight and snuffed out their candles, which they placed in the bag Jane had brought to the meeting, for Jane never went anywhere without either her flashlight or the pendant.

  Once they reached a square low-ceilinged room, Cannidge placed his taper on a table around which there were several chairs.

  “This room holds more history than the entire town or the area where the town is,” Cannidge told them. “It’s the only thing remaining from Norman-Saxon times.

  Jestyn looked around. The walls were formed with heavy stones that fitted into each other and in the far wall there was a niche, in shadow.

  Cannidge went over to the niche, felt inside it and removed a rectangle board. He then thrust his hand deep inside while Jestyn and Jane held their breaths.

  He brought out a box and placed it on the table. On the cover of the box was an indentation and Jane and Jestyn glanced quickly at each other.

  “Yes,” Cannidge said, “the pendant you’re wearing, Miss Fielder, fits into the top of the box and that’s where it was originally. “I’ll explain,” he said to their questioning looks and sat heavily on one of the chairs.

  From another table on the side he took another box and brought out a rolled scroll from within.

  “The references in this scroll led me to a book that had been published about fifty years ago. As you know before the printing press was invented many years ago, books were painstakingly written and copied by hand on scrolls, so there were only a few copies of any book at any time and for that reason were greatly expensive. This book told the story of Marlaek, the warrior sorceress that accompanied Grelen in his battles,” he turned to Jestyn. “You are a direct descendant of Grelen, Mr. Greywick, and you, Miss Fielder are a direct descendant of Marlaek, a disciple of Andraste, Druid goddess of war. Both lines are direct Druid lines and there are few direct lines in the world.”

  Speechless, Jestyn and Jane just stared at Cannidge, then guardedly at each other. Cannidge looked intently at Jestyn.

  “After I painted the pendant in your hand on the first painting, your father was outraged and told me I had to paint another portrait or he would engage another painter. He would not accept that I remove or paint over the pendant.

  “Your father refused to accept his family’s connection to Druid warriors, Mr. Greywick. He had denied his Druid ancestry all his life and didn’t want reminders of it. What’s more, he told me it was all gibberish and that he would sue me should I reveal any of this. You see, he was deathly afraid of magic, because sorcery and witchcraft were associated with it and he did not want to expose his family to danger.”

  “How is it that the pendant can go backward in time,” Jane asked. “And can it go forward, back to my time? The only thing I remember is that the moment I touched the pendant on the painting I was blasted into the past.”

  “In the book there is a reference to this,” Cannidge said. “Let me show you. He turned the pages on the book and then pointed to some lettering:

  The pendant made from magic dolmen stone has qualities for traveling over time but instructions must be followed carefully lest a tragedy occur.

  Jestyn and Jane looked each other, wide smiles on their faces.

  “This is it,” Jestyn said. “This is how you can return to your time, Jane!” Then he was crestfallen and his joy suddenly turned to despair. Jane saw it instantly and placed her hand over Jestyn’s trembling one.

  “I would not celebrate just yet,” said Cannidge. “It says here that the instructions must be followed carefully, lest a tragedy occur. We do not know what those instructions are.

  “Once, a few weeks after I finished the second portrait and when your father made payment to me, I was extremely surprised to find him knocking at my doorway!

  “I was very ill at the time and can barely remember what he said. He told me he wanted to give me a journal into my keeping. He said it was not to be in his house, because he despised sorcery and all that it entailed. He called anything to do with Druids sorcery. He was extremely agitated and I was extremely ill, so the meeting was, as you can imagine, very strange. I remember it as part delirium, for the doctor had given me some laudanum. Your father also said he had thought of burning it but wondered if by doing so he would bring back calamity to his family so he decided to just give it to me, instead. After handing me the journal he abruptly walked out of the sickroom.

  “When my aunt brought back the doctor the doctor gave me little chance of recovery. Your father had come just when my aunt had gone off to call the doctor.

  “In my fever, and stumbling about my house, while my aunt had gone to get the doctor, I put the journal away, Then I completely forgot where, for I soon fell deeper into fever. There followed weeks of despair for my aunt in which she felt, as she told me afterward, that she was given no hope of my recovery by the doctor.

  “Yet I recovered, miraculously, but could not remember where I had put the journal.”

  “It’s extremely important you find, it Mr. Cannidge,” said Jestyn. “You hold Miss Fielder’s life in your hands.”

  “I will spend every waking hour searching for it,” Cannidge assured them. “I know how important the journal is for you, Miss Fielder.”

  “Come, let us return above-ground,” said Cannidge, and led them through the meandering stone stairs until they reached the trap door that had been left open.

  Both Jestyn and Jane sighed with great relief when they were again inside Cannidge’s house.

  At the door, Jestyn again pressed the artist to try with all his might to find the journal.

  They left with his assurances ringing in their ears but with their fears magnified. Would Cannidge be able to find the journal?

  ***

  Lady Millthorpe greeted the woman who had come to confer with her and directed her toward the impressive curved stairway. She had told her butler to direct the woman to her in the study the moment she arrived.

  “I’m interviewing her for a position,” Lady Millthorpe said impatiently to her husband when Lord Millthorpe inquired why the woman was being led upstairs.

  “Really, m’ dear,” said her husband with a glance of disapproval at the woman who was dressed in threadbare grey clothing which a patched cape only half covered, “aren’t these interviews usually conducted in the study or the kitchen?”

  “On this occasion I wish to interview Mrs. Drapey in my sitting-room, dearest. Do go about your business and allow me to conduct mine.”

  Lord Millthorpe seemed about to retort, thought better of it and turned away without a word.

  ***

  Lady Millthorpe showed her visitor to her sitting-room and closed the door behind her. “You said a necklace of sorts, Mrs. Drapey,” she said when they were both seated. “What did you mean by it? What sort of necklace?”

  While Mrs. Drapey mulled the question, Lady Millthorpe thought back to her visit at the Gre
ywick estate. She hadn’t noticed a necklace on Jane Fielder. She should have been more observant.

  “It be a queer sort, mum,” Mrs. Drapey finally replied. “None that I ‘ave seen before.”

  “Describe it for me.”

  “It ‘angs sort of like the pendant me granny wore to the day she died. The only piece of jewelry she ‘ad and black-like with blue it was, an’ a gol’ chain it was.”

  “Are you talking about your grandmother’s necklace or Miss Fielder’s?” asked Lady Millthorpe, suppressing a sigh of exasperation.

  “Both, really, m’lady,” said Hortense Drapey. “Miss Fielder’s ‘ung pretty much as my granny’s pendant did ‘cepting it was black and Miss Fielder’s was green slate-like with a light-colored circle in the middle. She leaned toward Lady Millthorpe, sharing her strong garlic breath so that Wilma pulled back. “Me Granny was Druid,” she added in a confiding whisper.

  “You were able to see this in just a few seconds that you saw her?” Lady Millthorpe was familiar with the exaggeration servants often indulged in.

  “I brought ‘em the tea, mum, and leaned over toward the table doin’ so. That’s when I ‘appen to glance at Miss Fielder and there was the necklace big as life ‘angin’ from her neck.”

  “I didn’t see it when I saw her the other day,” said Lady Millthorpe thoughtfully. “Of course, I wasn’t looking for any necklace and I was thinking of something else. She may have worn it underneath her clothes.”

  “How long have you worked with Mr. Cannidge?” Lady Millthorpe’s question was sudden and loud so that Mrs. Drapey almost jumped.

  “Not ‘is regular I ain’t, m’lady. ’is aunt be ‘is ‘ooskeeper, she be the reg’lar. I only fill in when she visit her niece for the birthing in Exeter or other things.”

  “And how long is she going to be away?”

  “’Er sister wants her there for the birthin’ which ain’t likely to be too soon, considering the two before. Mayhap she’ll make it back too soon, ‘ccording to ‘er. But then who but the Lor knows for sure?”

  Wilma’s spy had brought back the information as to who was working with Cannidge and under her ladyship’s instructions had intercepted her on her way home and advised her that Lady Millthorpe wanted a word with her. That was how Mrs. Drapey was now sitting in Lady Millthorpe’s sitting-room sipping a much appreciated cup of tea and rapidly devouring a few pastries the likes of which she seldom had occasion to indulge in.

  “I want you to keep our meeting secret, Mrs. Drapey,” Lady Millthorpe said. “There might be a position for you in my household once Cannidge’s aunt returns to Mr. Cannidge’s house and you are left without your temporary position. It will depend on how well you help me.”

  “A position, m’lady–‘ere?” Mrs. Drapey almost choked on the pastry she was eating.

  “Yes,” said the lady. “But it will depend on your discre – it will depend on you being able to keep absolutely secret what transp – what we talk about. And that means everything. You will promise to not tell anyone what you and I talk about?”

  When Mrs. Drapey nodded earnestly, Wilma went on: “Now, Mrs. Drapey, hold your hand up, thus. Will you swear on it?”

  With round eyes and a few crumbs around her mouth, Mrs. Drapey stopped chewing and solemnly swore she would keep secret her meetings with Lady Millthorpe.

  “Remember, not even to your closest kin. You understand that?”

  “Yes, mum, swear on me ‘art.”

  “Very well, then,” Lady Millthorpe continued. “This is what I want you do…”

  CHAPTER 12

  “How exciting,” Jane said, following Jestyn as he went quickly to a side door that led to a corridor and then up a dark wide staircase.

  Jestyn was fulfilling Jane’s wish to find the clothes Jestyn had worn when he posed for the portrait.

  When they reached one floor they continued up to the next one. Once at the attic door Jestyn stood aside for Jane to enter. Jestyn had led Jane to the second of the two large attics.

  “It’s huge,” Jane said, glancing around. “And it’s dustier than the other one!”

  Jestyn placed the candle rack on a dusty table and looked around. “There are a few trunks with old clothes. “Come over here, Jane, I think this is the trunk that held the clothes from that portrait, for it’s a trunk where Cedric and I stored clothes.”

  Jane hurried over and shifting through the clothes soon found what she wanted.

  This is what you wore,” she replied excitedly. “You looked to me like a knight in shining armor in that portrait,” Jane touched the clothes in wonder and placed the velvet jacket softly to her cheek. She shifted through the rest of the clothes. There was a musty smell to the silk and velvet but ignoring it she slid her hand over the shirt and dark vest and again put them to her face.

  “As a knight of old?” said Jestyn with a laugh. “I didn’t act like a knight when I first saw you. I bit your head off. And then it turns out you saved Cedric’s life and mine!”

  “Well, I can understand,” said Jane. “From where you stood, you saw someone who appeared out of nowhere dressed like a man and carrying an alien torch – and spooked your horses. I don’t blame you for your reaction. I wish I could take these clothes back to the future with me. I love them so very much. You cannot know how much.”

  Jane sighed as she re-folded the clothes and tucked them back into the trunk. She stood up and straight into Jestyn’s arms.

  The past few days had been leading up to this, she thought, as cascading feelings were let loose between them. Jestyn kissed first her hair and then her mouth. Within his embrace Jane suddenly felt as though she had never embraced a man until this moment.

  Jestyn kissed her as she had never been kissed before, across time. She was an alien in a strange land and yet she felt at home because Jestyn was with her, because she was in Jestyn’s arms. His broad shoulders and arms around her, Jane laid her face on his chest. She never wanted to let go. There was nothing in her life before Jestyn that could ever compare.

  As Jane felt his tongue exploring the inside of her lower lip a shudder of passion rippled down her loins, down to her toes, so that her skin was suddenly hot with desire. Jestyn laid her on a pile of coverlets and unfastened the buttons of her gown. A shiver of desire overwhelmed her to her toes as Jestyn’s fingers circled slowly the rosette of one nipple and then the other. His mouth closed around one of them, sending an eddy of pleasure that made her seek his mouth again. She was suddenly on fire, her skin so sensitive to his touch that tingles rippled over her skin, overwhelming her with feeling. She wanted his kiss, again and again. She wanted him to possess her, to need her.

  ***

  “We must leave the attic,” said Jestyn, coming to his senses before Jane did as he eased his hold on her. “Aunt Florinda saw us coming up here. She will become concerned if we don’t come down soon. This cannot be good for you, Jane, because it will compromise you and the last thing on this earth I want is to harm you.” He was trembling with a shudder of pleasure and his groin was tight against his breeches. But he didn’t want Jane to come to harm, not for a moment of pleasure – not for anything! He realized how much he cared for her as he guided her out of the attic.

  “Your life was changed dramatically since you were thrust into my time. I mustn’t make things worse for you. I will not harm you for a few moments of pleasure. The walls have ears even in this attic. Come, sweetheart, let us go downstairs.”

  ***

  “Would you like to participate in an enjoyable activity?” Jestyn’s eyes lit up as he looked deep into Jane’s eyes. She suppressed the sigh that was ever constant in her whenever he looked at her that way.

  Jestyn glanced toward the door where Aunt Florinda’s attention appeared to be on her sewing. He moved his hand closer to Jane’s so that their fingers touched.

  Having known and loved Jestyn what kind of life would she live without him, Jane wondered, as a shudder of pain pierced her heart.

&nb
sp; Jestyn looked deep into her eyes. “It was as I wondered how to keep you with me a bit longer that an idea occurred to me.”

  “What kind of activity?” Jane asked, forcing her voice to normal. She had felt at the very moment when Jestyn had looked deeply into her eyes that their relationship had changed from a friendly one to one where they were deeply aware and attracted to each other, to the exclusion of everyone around them and even of their surroundings. In truth, they were falling in love in leaps and bounds.

  “I’m going to Exeter tomorrow,” he said. “It’s an emergency, otherwise I would not think of going – not now when it’s so important we find the way for you to return to your time. But I’m also afraid of leaving you here without my protection. I know that in your time you disdain male protection and are an independent young woman. But you are not in your time and there are a lot of dangers lurking here for you.

  “I would feel a lot better of you would come with me. It will be just one day and Aunt Florinda, of course, would accompany us. We’ll take the carriage and our coachman, so that you and Aunt Florinda will be comfortable.

  “I prefer to have you in my sight, so that I might be able to come to your aid should anything arise. Cedric would protect you while I’m gone but not as thoroughly as I can. In truth, I would not be able to function over there in the business I have to conduct, while worrying about you, so please agree to come with me.”

  “I would love to go to Exeter with you,” Jane said with a wide smile. Anything to stretch the time with him.

  “How I wish you could remain with me for the rest of our lives, my heart,” he added. When Jane remained silent, a tear sliding down her cheek, Jestyn pressed her close to his chest.

  “There are some nice sights in Exeter. Aunt Florinda is anxious to do some shopping so she will be elated when I tell her. It will be a treat for her. The hotel where I stay was recently renovated and is comfortable and pleasing, close to the sea as it is—right on the quay. We will have a day and a night, together, without the prying eyes that follow us everywhere.”

 

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