by Gloria Gay
“There are no more pages in his diary, said Cannidge,” Jestyn had a worried look in his eyes.
He sat back, shaking his head.
“When did you father die?” Jane asked.
“He died about a year after he wrote this entry,” Jestyn said, pointing to the diary, “two years ago.”
“And what did he die of?” asked Cannidge.
“He became weakened by the depression that had taken a hold of him. He stopped eating regularly, He had sent me to his estate in the north to deal with very serious problems with the tenants and barely had I solved that problem when he urged me in a letter to go to London on his behalf, to speak with his solicitors about a problem with some land dispute.
“I had been there but a week when my father’s valet wrote to me, urging me to return because my father had begun to neglect his meals and had lost weight.
“I hurried back and took over his meals, personally spoon feeding him because he had become weak from lack of nourishment and could not even hold the spoon or fork. Slowly, I brought him back close to his former weight but his mind was not as it had been before. His obsession with the Druids had increased rather than abated.”
“So it wasn’t anything connected to what he had become obsessed about,” Jane sighed in relief.
“Father was saddened after my mother’s death. I think he felt he had contributed to her death by his obsession with the family’s history.”
“That was probably why he rushed over here with the journal and gave it to my keeping. He didn’t want it to be in his house,” said Cannidge.
“Were you and Cedric as affected as your mother was by your father’s behavior?” he asked.
“Yes. Very much. Cedric more than I. He’s five years younger. I tried to comfort Mother, telling her that Father’s obsession was a passing phase. Yet even as I said the words I knew it wasn’t a passing phase because his obsession had taken him over. I believe his death was his release. I tried to tell him that the family’s connection to the Druids was a good one, as I felt it was. I was proud of our connection to Druid warriors that were leaders in their time, yet Father would shake his head and walk away.
Jestyn and Jane thanked Cannidge profusely and boarded their carriage.
Jane broke the comfortable quiet in the carriage.
“It must have been awful for you and Cedric, to see your father sinking into despair and you being unable to pull him out of it, Jes.” Jane pressed Jestyn’s hand.
“Cedric vowed he would never marry, because he felt he would pass on Father’s obsessions to his children.”
“He is now engaged to be married, Jes. What made him change his mind?”
“He met Lorraine,” said Jestyn with a broad smile. “Isn’t that always the case? Love changes everything. I, too, vowed never to marry after my experience with tragedy. Then I met you. Yet no matter how much I turn it over in my mind, I will choose your safety above all else.”
***
Jestyn reached over and taking Jane’s hand in his own kissed it tenderly.
“The fair is coming to town,” he told her. “It’s to start tomorrow. I would love for you to go with me.”
“Would you?” he pressed, when she remained quiet.
“We may be tempting fate,” said Jane. But even as she said the words a feeling of elation at the thought of being with Jestyn one more day was coursing like fire through her. She would not be able to deny them one more day. Besides, they had the instructions for her getaway from the past. She would soon be safely transferred out of the past and one more day with Jestyn would be pure heaven.
“We now have the way for me to return to my time,” Jane said. “I guess one more day will not make a difference and it will mean the world to me.”
“And to me,” Jestyn said, glad that Jane had agreed to go to the fair. He could not stand the thought that now she had the means to leave his time, even though they had fought so hard to find the way.
“Yes, we are tempting fate and she might turn around and slam us both,” Jestyn agreed. “But the thought of spending another full day with you, my love, just means heaven to me. How can I not desire it?”
“I, too, need another day with you, Jes. And I would like to see the bridge again with you.”
“We’ll go there, Jane, so that you will become familiarized with it. But first I want to give you a few driving lessons in the curricle, which is the carriage you will be driving when you cross the bridge. I want you to be able to drive the carriage across the bridge confidently and not have the bays bolt on you.”
Their coachman got down from his perch and put the step for Jane to get down.
***
They would look over the area, Jestyn told Jane, so that she would familiarize herself with it. So, soon, Jestyn, Jane and Aunt Florinda were ensconced in Jestyn’s curricle, on their way to Mystic Bridge. The curricle had a wide driver’s seat and all three fit smugly, with Jane in the middle.
“That bridge used to be called the Mystic Stone Bridge, my dears,” Aunt Florinda looked up from her embroidery, “back when Mother was a child.”
“Mystic Stone Bridge!” Jane said, her eyes wide with astonishment. “That’s what it was called in the journal!”
“Why was the name changed, Aunt?” Jestyn asked.
“It was too long, I think. They just shortened it to Mystic Bridge because that was what people called it.”
When they reached the bridge Aunt Florinda stayed in the carriage, saying her legs hurt from the humidity of the day and Jane and Jestyn walked hand in hand over the bridge.
***
Next morning, Jestyn asked Jane if she would like to ride a horse to the fair. Her leg was almost healed and she might enjoy riding a horse a lot more than being again cooped up in the carriage. As it was not the sprained leg that she would fold around the lady’s mount Jane readily agreed. She had learned to ride a horse as a teenager and had done some horse riding in upstate New York at a friend’s farm, so she looked forward to it now.
The ride on horses to the fair was enjoyable in spite of the low sky. The sides of the road were covered with bluebells, campion and wild daffodils and the air was fragrant with laurel and pine. Wood smoke from nearby farms and manure from horses that had gone before them permeated the air.
On arriving at the fair, Jane looked up at the low dark cloud cover.
“Those clouds look menacing,” she exclaimed, “even though the sun is out on the other side”
“Weather here can turn suddenly,” Jestyn replied. “We’re very used to it and have learned to enjoy the good parts when we have them. But you’re right, those clouds do look dark for so early in the morning. But let’s not be concerned by that and enjoy our day at the fair.
“The sun may yet come out as it often does. We are not far from home, in any case. There is to be a grand treat – a large roundabout is being installed. It was brought here from London for the fair at great expense and there will be many other diversions.”
“I'm anxious to see that roundabout. I love fairs. This roundabout you mentioned – is that a carousel?” Jane asked.
“Yes – it’s a carousel. They are very rare, so people will come from many miles away for the experience.”
“There’s an annual fair in Connecticut that I try not to miss,” said Jane “They make especially good cider and apple pies.” Jane was wearing a slate blue sarcenet riding habit and matching short cape from the clothes Lady Elizabeth had given her and it was very becoming. She wore a small blue bonnet with a wide band and bow that matched the gown and a small reticule.
“Nellie told me there’s a gypsy camp near the fair, Jestyn. Do you think we could go there after we go to the fair?”
“I should tell you to avoid that Roma camp but knowing you by now it will be futile, darling,” said Jestyn with a wide smile. He wished the hours they spent at the fair could be stretched out and the end of the day be far away.
“To see a real gypsy and have my fo
rtune read by a gypsy from 1803? Not a chance I'll miss that, Jes,” Jane agreed. “I can hardly wait. But how do they allow her here, if they fear sorcery so much? Isn’t reading our fortune a form of sorcery?”
“She’s not the kind of witch they fear, that could damage their crops or turn their milk sour. But the Roma are often run out of towns, even so. They don’t advertise their presence too much, for that reason. But many people still do like to see into their future, so they don’t turn her in—unless,” he said with a laugh, “they don’t like the fate she predicted. But by that time the Roma camp has left. They don’t stay too long in one place. They live a rather carefree life, I think, camping under the stars, singing and dancing…”
“And sometimes run out of town?”
“That, too, unfortunately for them. When they camp in my land, I look the other way, so long as they stay out of trouble and don’t steal crops. I don’t see why people don’t like them on their land when they stay only a few weeks and keep to themselves.”
Jestyn tied their horses at the temporary stable and led Jane down the main walk through the fair.
Jane glanced lovingly at Jestyn. She had liked what he had said about the Roma. He was a kind, fair and sensitive man and she was so happy to have found him. Too bad that fate had dealt them a crushing blow by putting them in separate centuries. She would bet they were the only couple in history with such a problem.
She held on to his arm and whenever they were not alone they addressed each other formally. She was glad that because this was a public place she was able to go with Jestyn alone.
Aunt Florinda, in any case, had told them firmly she had to recover from her journey to Exeter and would not attend the fair until its second day.
“It must be a wondrous world, your world. I wish I could see you through a keyhole when you get back,” Jestyn said.
“I'm glad you didn't say if I get back.”
“I'm certain you will, darling. Don't think of that for now and enjoy the fair. Eventually the sun will come out today and will stay that way for the rest of the fair’s duration—I am still hopeful.”
“The fair will last a week?”
“Yes, and we'll come every day, if you want. We don't have much in the way of entertainment out here in the country, so a fair such as this is greatly appreciated.”
“I'm so glad to hear that,” Jane replied. “But I’m afraid I’ll be able to attend the fair only today even though I would love to come with you every day the fair’s in town. I can’t risk staying in your time too long. This fair is very entertaining, though. Look, Jes, they're setting up the roundabout! Shall we go see? Just see how beautiful those wooden horses are and so elaborate with their plumed headdresses!”
“I read about them recently,” said Jestyn as they neared the carrousel, “The reason they were first made was for soldiers’ practice. Wooden horses were placed in wheeled planks so that soldiers could practice slicing off heads as they swayed past the lines of the enemy!”
“What a horrible beginning to a beautiful contraption that now gives so much joy to children,” said Jane. “I loved carousels when I was a child.”
“What besides apple pies and cider do you have in the fairs that are held in your time?”
“Country fairs have lots of things: livestock and food booths and games and all sorts of carnival rides! But we also have other kinds of fairs – fairs where the countries of the world can present expositions of their newest technology.”
“Tell me about this tech – what was that word?”
“Technology. It encompasses advances in many fields. First there will be the industrial revolution. I'm sure it's going on even now, all around you. A carousel like that one will move with electricity rather than with workers making it go around with that wheel.”
“I believe you would rather enjoy the fair than talk about your technology, from the look in your face,” Jestyn said with a laugh.
“We can talk about it another day, when my mind is not so full of this fair. Look at those huge cows with their sweet eyes. Oh, and look at those horses, so many of them! Are they to be auctioned?”
“Yes, later on. Perhaps we'll come back and witness it. Come, Jane, let's go down that lane where they're setting up refreshments. The smell of tarts and pies is making me hungry.”
Jane needed to rest and so Jestyn took her to a slope above the fair area where they could sit and eat their lunch, while still being able to look down at the activity.
After eating meat pies and elderberry wine, Jane and Jestyn relaxed on the grass.
“How nice the sun feels on my face. You were right that the sun would eventually come out! And that breeze. It's perfumed with heather and honeysuckle and lavender.” Jane looked down the hill at the teeming crowds
“Don’t trust the sun too much,” Jestyn said. “It’s liable to abandon us to those dark clouds that are now low in the horizon in the north.”
“I hope not!” Jane said and asked, “After our ride in the roundabout, do you think we could visit the gypsy tent? I saw that the Roma tents are near the fair but not within it.”
“Yes, they’re not allowed within the area of the fair but they’re near enough to get a few coins from the visitors. So you want your fortune read? What if it's something you don't like? Haven't you had enough of magic?” Jestyn asked with concern.
“It'll just be fun. I never believe what they tell me, anyhow.”
“All right, but don't say later that I didn't warn you,” Jestyn said and added, “I think we should go there now if we’re going at all because the weather might change suddenly. I don’t trust this sudden sun, not with dark clouds lurking in the north, bearing down. Come, Jane.”
He helped Jane up from the grassy slope and they walked down among yellow grass and wildflowers toward the gypsy camp.
As they entered the gypsy tent, Jane realized that the tent looked a lot larger in the inside than it did from the outside. Inside, it looked like its own little world, if a bit strange and surreal, candlelit and spooky. Pinned to one of the sides of the tent, here was a drawing of a hand with inscriptions on it like a road map
Jane looked around with interest as the gypsy, a short, dark-haired woman with a pale face and large black eyes rimmed with kohl, motioned her toward a small table and two mismatched chairs. The woman was dressed in a grubby green and red satin skirt of many folds and a red scarf, while a chain with coins hung across her forehead.
Looking Jane over with her piercing look, she motioned for Jane to sit at a chair at the dark table across from which hung a mirror. The small round table looked ancient and rickety. It was dark wood and was carved with scrolls, inscriptions and figures of flowers and birds.
CHAPTER 17
After she sat at the table, Jane looked around the tent. There was a sheepskin hanging from one of the sides of the tent above where Jestyn had been motioned to sit in the only other stool a little bit on the side from where Jane sat with the gypsy. On another of the sides was a sheepskin with an imprint of a Chinese scene and hooks that held a horn and a wine bag.
“Ye’ll cross me with the blunt, young sir?” asked the Roma woman.
“That I will,” said Jestyn, taking out a coin from his vest pocket. “Here it is.”
The woman put the coin in a stringed purse that hung from her skirt and turned again to Jane.
Without a word she motioned for Jane to place her right hand on the table. The woman’s hand was bony, cold and brittle and Jane almost recoiled at the touch as the woman turned Jane’s hand palm up.
For a while she gazed at Jane’s palm and then she glanced at the mirror opposite the table. Her large dark eyes, heavily rimmed in black kohl looked eerie under the light of the single candle on the table. There was a heavy smell of incense and tallow and a cloy scent that seemed to come from her hair.
There was a strange tapping noise but the woman did not seem to be aware of it.
Jane shivered. She glanced at Jestyn whose e
yes were on her and smiled at him. Jane would have reached for Jestyn’s hand but she was afraid the woman would yell at her.
A few minutes went by as the Roma woman gazed at Jane’s palm, then gazed back and forth at the mirror. As this went on Jane became extremely uncomfortable as her hand was being held too tightly in the woman’s hand. She was about to tell the woman she had changed her mind when suddenly the woman removed Jane’s hand away with a jerky movement, startling Jane. The strange tapping noise stopped.
The gypsy, her large black eyes eerie above the light of the short smelly candle, leaned forward toward Jane and stared at her for a few moments. Jane pulled back in alarm.
“The lady's hand can't be read,” the Roma woman said, turning to Jestyn. With a shake of her long bony hand she motioned for Jane to move away from the table.
“Get away from the table, miss!” she yelled when Jane stayed frozen in place.
“Why?” asked Jestyn.
“Why?” Jane’s voice came out as a croak and she shivered. She got up, crossed the small tent and got as close to Jestyn as she could. Jestyn put his arm protectively around her.
“Can't say why–just ain't there,” the woman said in a louder, more strident tone. “Nothin' to be seen—lady don’t cast a shadow in the mirror. Maybe I can read yourn young sir.”
The gypsy appeared now so upset that Jane doubted she would even be able to read Jestyn’s hand. Jestyn glanced at Jane.
“Let her read yours, Jes, I’m all right now.” Jane could tell the woman was anxious to earn her money.
Annoyed and shaking his head, Jestyn sat on the chair Jane had vacated and extended his hand. “Go ahead,” he told her. “Read my fortune.”
The woman extended her hand and Jestyn gave her a coin.
The woman then took a few moments to calm down, closing her eyes and whispering what appeared to be incantations – or gibberish – as Jestyn and Jane thought with a speaking glance to each other.
The woman took a deep audible breath, then took a hold of Jestyn's hand. She turned it over and peered at Jestyn’s palm for a few moments. Then she turned and glanced at the mirror opposite.