by Paige Elwood
He wondered how Sophie was settling in at Madame Pelletier’s. He trusted his mother’s old friend to take good care of her, but he wished he could be there, to make sure that it was going smoothly. He was feeling overwhelmed with the pressure of the next few days. His whole future was uncertain, and his fate depended upon how he handled this situation.
He climbed into his bed, unable to get the image of those warm brown eyes out of his mind. She was so vulnerable, and yet she had a strength about her that belied her appearance. Finding herself ripped from her own world and thrust into unfamiliar surroundings must have been terrifying. Particularly for a woman all alone. Since she’d arrived he’d felt a shift in his own world. Everything that had been familiar to him now felt strange and new. He couldn’t imagine how strange it all felt to Sophie.
He took a long time to fall asleep, but when he did, he dreamed of walking the streets of Paris with a dark-haired beauty on his arm. Her hand was nestled in his own as they navigated the bustling streets. It was a different Paris than he knew. Some familiar sights remained, but there were strange new sights and sounds alongside them. In the dream he didn’t care about the unfamiliar aspects, he was just happy to be walking with her.
He looked across at her, her dark hair shining in the sunlight. From her profile, he could make out her full lips and delicate, upturned nose. Her long dark lashes fluttered lazily as she took in the sights. She began to turn her face toward him, but before he could gaze into those kind brown eyes, everything faded into black and an abyss of dark, dreamless sleep claimed him.
Chapter 17
Sophie woke, and for a few moments her strange and unfamiliar surroundings startled her. She didn’t know where she was, and she felt around for her cellphone to check the time but couldn’t find it. She sat bolt upright, glancing around the enormous room. Her heart pounded in her chest, and despite the cool temperature in the room, a thin sheen of sticky perspiration coated her.
The events of yesterday came back to her in a rush, and dismay clawed at her when she realized she had not woken up in her modern hotel. She was still stuck in medieval France. The memory of a very handsome French man rescuing her came back to her mind. His eyes seemed to burn into her soul.
She climbed out of bed, pulled on the shift that she’d left draped over a chair, and surveyed herself in the mirror. She hadn’t unpinned her hair last night and sections of it had come loose. She resembled some kind of crazy Medusa. She also felt like some crazy Medusa! She got to work undoing the tiny twists and braids that the maid had put in her hair. When it was all out, she raked her fingers through it, admiring the cute waves that the intricate hairstyle had created.
Unsure of the time, she peered out the enormous window. The sun had risen, and the outline of Notre Dame loomed large in the distance, dominating the entire skyline.
A jug of water and a bowl rested on one of the sideboards, so Sophie washed her face in it and dressed in yesterday’s clothes. She’d need more clothes to wear if she wasn’t going home soon, but she had no money. Although Edouard had said he’d pay her expenses, she didn’t want to be a burden. He owed her nothing, after all.
She just about managed to dress herself, although her girdle was not tied as tight as it had been yesterday. Sophie was still quite proud that she’d managed to get herself ready without assistance. She padded down the hall to Isabeau’s room, pausing outside, unsure if she should knock. Was it too early?
Deciding the sun seemed well risen, she tapped lightly on the door. A moment later Isabeau answered it, already dressed and fresh-faced. “Sophie!” she exclaimed. “You are awake!”
“Of course,” Sophie said. “I wasn’t sure what time it was, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
Isabeau laughed. “It’s nearly afternoon. You slept a very long time. Maman checked on you and said we should leave you be, that you needed your rest.”
“I suppose I missed breakfast,” Sophie said, her stomach growling.
“Yes, but if you’re hungry it is almost time for lunch.”
Isabeau closed the door of her room behind her and descended the grand staircase with Sophie following close behind. They entered the drawing room, where Madame Petellier and her two younger daughters sat embroidering. They greeted Sophie, and she took a seat on one of the chairs, watching them creating tiny pieces of artwork. Alice’s needle moved furiously, leaving a trail of tiny flowers, and Delphine worked almost as fast creating what looked like little birds.
“They’re so good!” Sophie said, examining them. “I wish I could sew.”
“You can’t sew at all? Not even embroidery?” Isabeau said, mouth agape.
Sophie shrugged. “No, not at all. It’s less of an in-demand skill where I’m from, but a lot of people still do it very well.”
“Your land sounds very strange,” Delphine said.
“And yours is strange! It’s normal to me,” Sophie said. Her eyes wandered to the tapestries on the wall again. They were like a medieval version of a comic book. In this room, they depicted a scene showing the dark-haired man with a fair-haired girl inside what might have been a church. He was opening an ornate box decorated with emeralds.
She turned her head to follow the story as it continued behind her. The dark-haired man had dropped the box, the girl was fleeing, and two rings floated in the air. Sophie stood and moved closer to the tapestry. The rings looked like hers. Well, one was just like hers, with the Celtic pattern, and one was just like Edouard’s slightly plainer band. Both had tiny emeralds dotted into them. Sophie looked down at the ring on her finger, and back at the tapestry version. They were almost identical!
“You must be hungry,” Madame Petellier said right into her ear, startling her. “Come, we will have some lunch now.”
“Those rings,” Sophie said, holding out her hand so Madame Petellier could see her ring. “They’re just like mine.”
“It’s a popular style here,” she said smoothly, but Sophie caught a flash of alarm in her eyes. “Come along, Cook hates it when we’re late. He says it ruins the taste of the food if it’s not eaten right away.”
She took Sophie’s arm and propelled her away from the tapestries and into the dining hall. Sophie made a mental note to look closely at all of the tapestries and try to piece together the tale they told. Perhaps if she got Delphine on her own she would explain the story was without her sisters there to quiet her.
In the dining hall, they were served more of the dense bread with some mutton soup. Just like the night before, Sophie found the food delicious. She’d still prefer a pizza, but she couldn’t deny the soup was tasty.
Once again, the meal was served with wine, but Sophie asked for water instead. She couldn’t be drinking alcohol all day, every day. She wondered how everybody else did it. Perhaps the alcohol was weaker than in her time?
She surveyed the tapestries again as she ate. These ones showed Notre Dame, and she wondered then if the church in the drawing room tapestry was actually inside the cathedral. She resolved to visit there as soon as possible and find out. The old man had said her ring came from Notre Dame too, so there was obviously a link. She didn’t know if finding out would help her get home, but she had to try.
“Sophie?” She became aware suddenly that Madame Petellier was speaking to her.
“Sorry, Madame,” she said. “I was just daydreaming.”
“I was just saying that my girls are very much looking forward to the ball at Edouard’s home this Saturday.”
Sophie’s traitorous heart sped up at the thought of seeing him again. Even after the embarrassing kiss, she still wanted to. “There’s a ball?”
“Yes, Edouard throws the best balls in the North of France.” Delphine clapped her hands together. “All the most eligible bachelors in Paris will be there.”
“Delphine is eager to begin courting,” Isabeau said, smiling.
“I’m sure there will be lots of suitors vying for your attention,” Sophie replied.
A b
all! What would she wear? Was she even invited? Nobody had actually invited her, they’d simply said that they were excited to attend. Fear of being disappointed froze the question in her throat.
“What will you be wearing?” she asked Delphine, whose eyes shone with excitement.
“The tailor is coming this afternoon to measure us all for new gowns,” she exclaimed.
“He’s going to make you several dresses, Sophie,” Madame Petellier said. “One for the ball, and a couple more to wear every day.”
Sophie beamed; so she was going to the ball! “That’s very generous Madame, thank you.”
“Edouard already paid the tailor, but of course I would not have left you here if he hadn’t,” Madame Petellier said.
Sophie was as excited as Delphine about the ball, but it was a strange position to be in. After being independent for so long, it was quite jarring for Sophie to suddenly find herself with no money and having to depend completely on someone else. She was grateful, though. Her impromptu time traveling could have gone much worse than it had up to now.
“Will your fiancées be at the ball?” Sophie asked Isabeau and Alice.
“Yes,” Alice said.
“Do they live here in Paris?” Sophie asked.
“No, they both live on their duchies. They do have homes in Paris, but they rarely stay there,” Alice said. “They’re not as large as Edouard’s father’s duchy, but they are both very good matches.”
Sophie nodded. “I’m sure they are wonderful matches for you both.” She paused. “Edouard… he does not have a fiancée?”
“No,” Isabeau said, looking uncomfortable.
“But if he is heir to a large duchy, wouldn’t a lot of women be interested in him?” Sophie asked.
“They are interested in him, he is not interested in them,” Delphine said. Alice glared at her.
Sophie had to get Delphine alone some time, she was obviously the best sister to get any information out of. She wondered why the other two were so guarded about Edouard. What did they know about him that Sophie wasn’t supposed to know?
“Do they have balls where you are from, Sophie?” Delphine asked, eager to change the subject.
“Sort of. I expect they are a little different than yours.” Sophie said.
“But there is dancing, n’est pas?” Delphine asked, aghast at the idea that there might be a place with no dancing.
“Yes, but I don’t think our music and dancing is the same as yours.”
Delphine clapped her hands. “We must show you how to dance for the ball! “Isabeau, you play the clavichord, and Alice and I will demonstrate the dances.”
“I take it I am to be the man,” Alice said drily. Delphine shrugged and gave her a small smirk. Alice nodded, resigned to her manly fate and took up a position on the dance floor.
“The couples stand facing each other,” Delphine explained, “in a long line on either side.”
She took position facing Alice. Alice bowed, Delphine curtsied, and then they turned, held hands and walked with slow, deliberate steps. “There would be a kind of corridor of couples here,” Delphine said. “When you reach the end, you join, and the next couple proceed.”
“Ok, seems straightforward enough,” Sophie said. She was relieved, she’d been expecting a complicated set of steps, like a waltz or something.
The girls showed her a few more dances, and she was happy to discover they were mostly basic, and generally involved group dancing. She’d never quite mastered the Cha Cha Slide, but curtsying and walking in a straight line? She’d nail that, surely?
“Can you show us dances from your land?” Delphine asked, eagerly.
Sophie thought of the last time she’d visited a nightclub. She was certain the girls would find modern dancing either scandalous, ludicrous, or both. “I’m not very good at the dances,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“No matter,” Delphine said. “let us show you the gardens now that it is daylight!”
Sophie allowed the exuberant girl to take her hand and lead her through to the gardens. She hoped this was her time to get Delphine alone, but Alice and Isabeau followed them. Never mind, she thought, there would be another time.
The gardens were as spectacular as the house, with an enormous lawn and a large woodland section. Sophie marveled at how clean and fresh the air was here, unpolluted by modern living.
“It’s beautiful,” she said to Delphine. “I love it!”
“Sometimes, when Armand visits me we walk in the gardens and just talk,” Alice said. “It’s very relaxing.”
“Armand is your fiancée?” Sophie asked.
Alice nodded. “Yes, he’s one of Edouard’s friends, his father has a duchy next to Edouard’s.”
“Do you love him?” Sophie asked, remembering Alice’s silence during Isabeau and Delphine’s discussion on love.
“I think so,” Alice said. “I enjoy spending time with him.”
Sophie nodded. “I think that’s maybe as close as it gets.”
They walked around the garden, discussing the dresses they might wear for the ball. Sophie was looking forward to the tailor arriving. She adored modern fashion, and she had spent most of her life studying it and working in it. There were few occasions in the modern world where you could wear a full-skirted ball gown and not be ridiculed. Full-skirted, elaborate dresses were beginning to be frowned upon even for weddings, with a more streamlined silhouette the current fashion. Sometimes, Sophie thought, a girl just wants to wear a ridiculously large dress and feel like a princess for a day.
Isabeau wanted something in a deep red wine color with gold trim. Sophie could see how the dark-haired beauty would look stunning in those colors. Alice wanted a pale-yellow silk, and Sophie imagined something like the dress from the Disney version of Beauty and the Beast, although she wasn’t sure that was a style suitable for this time period. She hoped it was, she imagined Alice would look incredible in it. She made a mental note to ask the tailor. Delphine wanted a violet hue, and Sophie thought that would also complement her coloring.
“What dress would you like?” Delphine asked as they walked. Sophie looked up at the green on the leaves of the trees towering above them and pointed upwards. “I think something like that color,” she said. She glanced at her ring, the tiny emeralds sparkled in the sunlight. “I think it will look good with my ring.”
Isabeau nodded, “It’s a good choice,” she said.
They began walking back towards the house, and when they were halfway there Marta came outside to wave them in.
“The tailor must be here!” Delphine squealed, gathering her skirts and running back towards the house. The other three picked up their walking pace but made no attempt to run.
When they got back to the house, the tailor was in the drawing room with a large bag of fabric samples for the ladies to choose from. His assistant, a young girl with mousy hair, took each of their measurements in turn, before they discussed styles and fabric with the tailor. Sophie listened carefully to the instructions that the three girls gave to the small, delicately-boned man.
When it was her turn, she requested a green dress, with gold detailing on the bodice, flowing sleeves and a very full skirt. As an aside she asked him about creating a tiered dress, like the Disney dress, with layers of cascading fabric. The tailor listened with his eyebrows raised but nodded at the end.
“I have not made such a dress before, but it could be done easily enough,” He said. Sophie called Alice over and explained the idea of the dress.
Alice clapped her hands in glee. “It sounds wonderful!”
The tailor left with instructions for ball gowns for all four of the women, plus five additional dresses for everyday wear for Sophie. She was excited to see the finished results in a few days’ time.
Chapter 18
Sophie spent the rest of the day perusing the books in the library. Although most of the books were difficult to read, and often were highly religious in nature, she did find some books
of poetry and a couple of plays that were interesting enough. She missed her Kindle and the ability to just download and read a good thriller or a romance. She’d love to watch a good movie too. The best equivalent here would be to see a play, but Shakespeare wasn’t even born yet, and so she had no idea about playwrights and plays of the time.
That evening, as the sun was setting and she was getting ready for dinner, she looked out of her bedroom window at the outline of Notre Dame. Her ring was emitting that strange warmth as it was sometimes prone to do, and she resolved that after the ball, she would visit the cathedral. Her ring reacted to the sight of the cathedral, and she wanted to know why. Perhaps Notre Dame was key to getting home. What if I can’t get home? she thought, but she quickly pushed the thought away. Not getting home wasn’t an option. She would find a way, there would be a way to do it.
She descended the stairs to join Madame Petellier and her daughters in the parlor before dinner. When she arrived, she was surprised to find Sabine there too. This could be a good chance to find out more about getting home, she thought.
“Hello, Sophie,” Sabine said as she entered the room. “You look very well,” she added, taking in Sophie’s much more refined appearance compared with the first day she’d arrived here.
“Sabine! It is nice to see you,” Sophie said.
She glanced at Madame Petellier, who said, “Sabine is a healer, she comes here once a month and brings us some herbs that help treat a lady’s… monthly affliction.”
“Oh… of course,” Sophie said. Obviously, you couldn’t just grab a hot water bottle and pop a couple of Advil. She hadn’t even considered the complications of that time of the month without all the modern conveniences.
“Sabine makes the best infusions,” Isabeau said. “They work better than any I have ever tried.”
“Thank you, Mademoiselle Isabeau,” Sabine beamed.
Sophie recalled that healers were often accused of being witches throughout history. She’d never believed in witches, but then again, she’d never believed in time travel either, and that was clearly possible. Maybe that was how Sabine knew she could get home—if Sabine was a witch.