The Librarian

by Christy Sloat

  “Are you from the Americas?”

  The Americas? What kind of question was that?

  “Yes, I’m from America.” I wondered why she referred to it as the Americas, but I didn’t dwell on it, there were stranger things at stake here. “I’m Emme.”

  “I’m Nancy, and I’ll tell ya that ya need to be leavin’ before the master gets back from his ride. If he catches you in here with me, you’re in for it.”

  “The master, who is he?” I asked, backing up a step. The heat from the kitchens and the threat of this master made my hands shake.

  “You really are daft. Do you know whose home you’re in? And look at ya. What in God’s name are ya wearin’,” she asked as she touched my robe. “What is this frock?”

  “I beg your pardon, Nancy, this is a nice terry cloth robe from Dillard’s.” I looked down at it and then nodded. “You’re right, it’s terrible. I just need a phone. I’ll call my friend to come get me, and you can go back to cooking.”

  Rose wouldn’t be happy having to drive here, wherever we were, but she’d do it. She was a faithful friend.

  Her eyes widened and she shrugged. “A phone? What is that? Some fancy American tool, it must be.”

  Oh. My. God. I’ve died and gone to hell. I’m gonna be stuck in a kitchen with Nancy for all of eternity and there are no cell phones. Did I die in the library? I quickly thought back to the last thing I remembered: reading in my nook while a storm blew around outside.

  Nancy grabbed my hand suddenly and inspected my ring. “Where did you get tha’?”

  I yanked my hand back and held it close to me. “My Gram gave it to me, why?”

  Nancy seemed to also have an eye for beauty, but she better keep her grimy cook hands off Gram’s ring.

  “I know who ya are, that’s why. As I live and breathe, I never thought I’d see the day. Come with me child, up the stairs with ya.”

  I didn’t argue; I just moved up the winding staircase to the upper half of the home. The heat gave way the higher we climbed, but I grew more concerned about where I was and where she was taking me. Nancy seemed to know who I was and that meant getting home, so I followed.

  Now that I saw more of it, I could see the beauty in this home. Hardwood flooring that was probably original as were the windows panes because they had that old warping to them. But they were clean and looked amazing as the sun shone in. Nancy pushed me into a room where a small bed sat and a huge cabinet hung open. I glanced at some of the clothes that hung on the hangers. I saw a lot of lace and even more silk. Whoever lived here liked vintage clothes, that was for sure.

  Nancy closed the door behind us and a smile grew on her face as she inspected me.

  “Where are ya from, lass?” she asked wide eyed. She’d become a nicer lady upstairs like a switch turned off.

  “Maine. Well, I live in California now, but—”

  “No lass, what year?”

  I swallowed. Nancy was bonkers. Even crazier than Crazy Joe that lived down the block from me as a child. He used to talk to birds and telephone poles.

  “Okay, this isn’t funny anymore. Nancy, I need to get home. Can you help me with that?”

  She stopped smiling and at that moment grabbed my arm and squeezed.

  “I’m tryin’ to help ya. But I need to know when you’re from.”

  The way she said when frightened me, and I’m not sure why.

  I just told her, “2017.”

  I whispered it like it was a secret she should never tell anyone. As I did, her eyes widened and she whispered to me, “Well, dearie, you’ve landed yourself in 1892. And this home resides in Worcester, England. The master of this household is Jack Ridgewell. This party that I’m planning is a dinner for his going away. He leaves us for the Americas in precisely one week. It is there that he will be making settlement.” She looked almost sad after she told me this.

  “So, I’m in England, and I’m in a house where a party is going to happen any second? Oh, and no big deal but it’s 1892, not 2017!”

  She nodded and looked happy that somehow my daft self was following along with this madness. This was crazy. This was worse than falling down the rabbit hole. At least Alice was able to eat cake that shrunk her and meet talking animals. I was stuck with a crazy Scottish cook.

  I looked around and saw this home and the way Nancy spoke and dressed; it was hard to disprove Nancy’s words. If I tried to argue any other reason for landing in this house, I couldn’t. I couldn’t come up with any reason of why I was surrounded by the heat of summer when I was just in the dead of winter. Maybe I was dreaming and not dead? If this was just a dream, then I had to just go along with it until I woke up.

  I wouldn’t be stuck here forever. Yay for that.

  Was this crazy? Of course it was. But what was I to do?

  “How do you know of me?” I asked her.

  “Ah. Your ring,” she said, pointing to it. “I’ve seen it before. It was on the finger of a beautiful lady named Miss Grace Bailey. She was here in this house with Mr. Lockhart.”

  “But I don’t understand. Grace Bailey was my great-grandmother,” I said, my mouth going dry. How on earth could she have been here? The timeline and dates didn’t add up. Just a dream, don’t forget that.

  “She was a lovely lass, and Mr. Lockhart explained how they arrived to be here. It was all, of course, very confusing and hard for me to believe that they traveled here through a book.”

  “A book?” I asked her shaking my head. Books could take you places when you needed to escape, but to think that they actually helped you time-travel was pure madness.

  “Yes, the strangest thing I ever did hear. I liked them plenty, so we had a party in their honor. Of course Mr. Ridgewell didn’t know when they were from. He wouldn’t understand tha’.”

  Maybe Nancy was a little more open to certain possibilities.

  “Mr. Lockhart? Would that be Harold Lockhart?”

  It had to be the same one. The scientist who owned the library before it was Gram’s.

  “Ah, yes. That’s the one. Do you know him?” Her smile spread from ear to ear, and it was easy to see that Nancy liked him plenty.

  I shook my head. “No, he’s dead now. What year did they come from?”

  I couldn’t believe I was asking this question. Shit, I was merely playing along.

  “1937, it was. The only reason I believed the man was because I saw them appear and then vanish before my very eyes. Truly amazing, that was.”

  In that year, my Gram would have been born three years after, and Grace would have been pretty young. I wondered how on earth she knew Harold Lockhart. Were they friends? I did know Harold died shortly after Gram bought the library from him. The thing about dreams was things never made sense to you while you dreamt them, and this certainly fit the bill.

  “She traveled like you did. Harold told me that others would be coming someday, but I just didn’t expect ya so soon after their visit.” She ran a hand over her graying hair and smiled again at me. The mean woman that I saw downstairs disappeared. Nancy was just simply doing her job for her master. And I was staring at her in disbelief.

  “He’s been dead for many years, so it wasn’t recent,” I informed Nancy. “Do you know how they traveled here, what they did?”

  She thought for a moment and said, “They used tha’ ring and a book. I thought witchcraft at first, but no, Mr. Lockhart told me it was science and magic of the old.”

  I was so confused my head spun. How could Grace have been here by traveling through a book?

  I sat back onto the bed and let my mind spin up crazy notions. Nancy opened the window and let the cool air blow in.

  “Are ya all right?” she asked, concerned.

  “No, not really, but I think I’ll manage.”

 
“We must get you dressed then. If it’s anything like Grace’s visit, you’ll be with us for a bit. You must blend in. I can’t go hiding you anywhere about the house.”

  “Blend in? Oh no. I don’t see why I can’t stay here until whatever spell I’m in wears off. Or I wake up from my nightmare.” I nodded and smiled like a crazy woman.

  “No. You can’t hide. There will be guests arriving soon, and they’ll be staying in all the rooms. The only room that won’t be full of people is the basement. Trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to hide in there too long.” She chuckled and a small laugh escaped me, although it wasn’t funny. Not even a little.

  She was busy looking for clothes in the closet as I stared out the window. Just how long would I be staying here? What would happen to my life back home?

  Maybe I was in a coma at home and Rose was busy trying to find a cure for me. I thought back to time-travelling movies I had seen and it hit me. Gram wanted me to read the books. She was adamant about it. She called the library magic and said that only I could read the books. The book sent me here, so maybe the me in 2017 was still at home nestled in the reading nook. Maybe the storm was still going on outside as I was reading and was somehow transported here. Or perhaps I was sucked into the book itself and that me disappeared for a while. If that was so, then Grace and I were reading the same book. If she came here with Mr. Lockhart, then the book was somehow our transportation. And maybe it wasn’t a dream at all. Maybe it was really happening.

  I wondered how exactly Grace and I came to travel here, but all the who’s, how’s, and what’s would have to wait because Nancy was pulling off my robe and swatting me.

  “Off. Off. Put these on.”

  I put my hand up and stopped her. “I can take my own damn clothes off, woman.” She looked at me like I had three heads. I undressed to my bra and panties.

  “What on earth are those?” She asked pointing to my lacy red bra and panty set.

  “This is from the finest undergarment store in the United States,” I told her proudly.

  “I don’t care if God made it himself, it all comes off,” she said as she shoved a complicated looking garment my way. “This goes on and I’ll lace you up. Can’t have you wearing contraptions like that for undergarments. People will take notice.”

  “What does it matter what I wear underneath? I’m not going to do a striptease. Am I?” I winked at Nancy, and she swatted me again.

  I pulled up the item she placed on me to get a better look and upon inspection noticed it was a corset.

  “How am I supposed to breathe in this?” I asked as she wrapped it around me. I held my breasts so she couldn’t see them.

  “No time for being shy.” She shoved my hands away and tightened the corset. She heaved, and I held onto the wall for support. “All proper ladies wear corsets, not red undergarments.”

  She handed me what I think were supposed to be underwear, and I put them on like a pair of pants. They were baggy and comfortable like the sweatpants that Nancy made me take off. But I refused to take off my panties. What difference did it make if I wore them under what she made me put on?

  She handed me a mauve dress that took my breath away. I held it up and tried stepping into it, but she stopped me.

  “No. I’ll do this part.” She placed it over my head and it slipped down over my body.

  “This is the finest dress from France and was meant for Miss Everly to wear, but she passed last month.”

  I was wearing a dead girl’s future dress. Great.

  “How did she die?” I asked as she laced up the back of the dress, which made everything tighter.

  “Carriage accident. She was staying here for a while in hopes of a marriage engagement with Mr. Ridgewell, but he was too smart to marry a girl like her.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because she was stealing money from him, ordering dresses on his account, and she treated the staff terrible. If ya ask me, she was a snob.” She pulled her nose up in the air, making me laugh. “Now look at you. You’ll blend in just fine.”

  I looked in the oval mirror that stood in the corner of the room. I looked like I was from the era; I looked elegant.

  “This is so strange,” I said to myself. I pinched my skin and slowly raised my head to see my reflection in the mirror. I was still there. It wasn’t a dream. It was so messed up though.

  Would I ever go home? Would I have to wear corsets for the rest of my life?

  I couldn’t do it. I’d be a cook in a kitchen for the rest of my stay here or even sleep in the basement if I had to. But this damn corset wouldn’t stay on this body. No way!

  “Now,” Nancy said pulling me away from the mirror. “You can go down the stairs and join the party. Just try not to speak to anyone, is that clear? You mustn’t be noticed.” She mumbled some more about hiding me away in the basement and then rolled her eyes.

  I laughed. “Blend in, but don’t talk to anyone. Sure, that’ll be easy,” I said sarcastically. This dress was not going to help me blend in at all.

  “Nancy, when can you tell me about Grace being here? I need to know why I’m here.”

  She tsked and shoved a pair of kid gloves at me. I put them on and realized I liked the way they felt. “When I don’t have a whole house full of people to cook for, that’s when. Now, off with ya.”

  She practically threw me from the room and down the staircase. I made it to the bottom with her hot on my heels when she tore off into the kitchen. I wanted to follow her and to hide in the kitchen. I couldn’t blend in. Who was I fooling? I wasn’t elegant or well mannered. I was a mouthy nineteen-year-old who didn’t care what people thought. I didn’t speak properly for this time period. Sure, I’d seen old movies, but I didn’t have the first clue how to dance or even what women in this time were allowed to say. I was suddenly missing my time period so much that the thought of being stuck here almost brought tears to my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to be back at Gram’s house and out of this stiff dress.

  I hesitantly peered around a corner and heard music being lightly played in a small room to my left. It sounded like a piano and a harp possibly, but I didn’t know much about music. Again, I missed my time. Not in the mood for chatting with anyone, I just wanted to get the hell out of here. Surveying the rooms, I tried to find an exit that would allow me entry to get back home, but to my dismay there was no door marked Here to 2017, anywhere. So I was screwed. I hurried across the hallway and entered a large empty room.

  It seemed like a nice enough room to hide in, but there was no exit. There was a window, and for a moment I considered climbing out of it and running to the town, but what would I do once I got there. No cell phones. Hell, no phones at all. I was stuck here until God-knows-when.

  I stared out the window at a man and woman. They were walking the grounds; her hand was placed slightly on his arm. It was so strange being here. If I wasn’t seeing other people walking around, I’d be sure I was going nuts. But other people were here, and that meant that I wasn’t delusional; I was really here. This wasn’t a dream at all.

  Somehow I was really in this time period, and I made up my mind as I looked out at the grounds that when I got home, I’d find out how it happened. I’d make sure it never happened again.

  “Ahem,” a loud cough startled me from behind.

  I turned and faced the man from which it came. He was tall and had a strong sturdy frame that I noticed filled out his shirt and jacket well. His light brown hair had a slight curl to it that hung low on his forehead. His arms were crossed and ankles as well as he leaned against the archway that led into the room. He looked casual as he pretty much checked me out from top to bottom. His stern face broke into the most adorable, heart-stopping smile I have ever seen.

  “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of an introduction,” he said i
n a British accent that made me start perspiring in a good way.

  “Uh…” I paused. “I’m Emme.”

  I went to stretch my hand to shake his, but when he didn’t reciprocate I pulled back casually.

  “Emme? That’s an unusual name. Is that a family name?” His lips were full and kissable, and I couldn’t stop staring. With that accent and those lips, he was lucky I didn’t attack him right then and there. He was the epitome of hotness in a late twentieth century kind of way.

  “No.”

  I couldn’t think or speak around him, it was pathetic. It must be the corset.

  “Well. Is it just Emme then?”

  “Emmeline Bailey,” I answered quietly. What the hell was wrong with me?

  All of a sudden I was a drooly shy mess. This was not like me at all. Where was my confidence and bold behavior?

  He laughed slightly and then said, “Emmeline is a name far too beautiful to be ignored. As are you. Why are you in here alone, Miss Bailey? You have no escort with you?” He looked around, and when he found no man in here with me, he looked almost worried for my safety.

  My heart skipped a beat. “I’m new here?”

  Pathetic. Just pathetic.

  “Then we shall change that right away.” He smirked. I think I could have swooned at that moment, but I held myself together.

  He took my hand and kissed the top of it ever so slightly. I could have sworn I felt heat burn its way through the gloves.

  He let my hand go, but I longed for him to keep his lips there all day. I didn’t know men in this time period looked this hot, but he was living proof. He wore a double breasted coat that was short in the front and long in the back. It was brown velvet and looked amazing with his blue-green eyes and brown hair.

  His pants were of the same material, and on his feet were high boots that looked ready for a horse ride. I suddenly wanted to take all of his clothes off. It was the most indecent thought for the moment and my cheeks heated. Here he was being polite and I was thinking about undressing him.

  His hand came to my cheek and he ran his fingers across it. “Are you feeling all right?”