“What happened?”
“He died. It was an accident, quite sudden. He slipped on a patch of ice, hit his head, and died. No one expected anything like it to happen—he was very healthy, and just about to publish his greatest and most consuming work. That’s why I came to England from America, you see. I came to finish my father’s work.” She paused briefly and then went on. “My mother died when I was born. There was nothing else I needed to do.”
Suddenly he took her by the arms. “Then you do understand. I see that you do. That’s what I want to do, you see—finish my father’s work. He was loyal to the King all his life—he just never understood why old King Harry turned away from the one true Church. And when Queen Mary came to the throne, he thought that at last England would return to the true religion, and he did all he could to ensure it, but…”
“He bet on the wrong horse.” Olivia finished softly.
“In truth, mistress, truer words were never spoken. He died a broken man, nearly penniless. All you see here is the result of my work, since I was barely sixteen.” He hooked his thumbs in his belt and looked around. “I’ve accomplished much. The Queen’s visit here was a most favorable sign. And now—now I have the chance to really serve Her Majesty, to do something which will pave the way to royal favor and reward.”
“I see,” said Olivia. “And what exactly is it that you have the chance to do?”
Swiftly, Nicholas outlined the plan. “But just this morning. Master Warren arrived unexpectedly and said that they needed someone who had a wife—and, obviously, I have no wife—but I thought… I saw how you pleased the Queen, and so I thought—”
“That I might be able to play the part of your wife.”
“Yes.” He paused briefly. “Would you do that? Could you do that?”
She hesitated, thinking furiously. What would Alison say? Alison was likely to think she’d completely lost her mind. And what about Alison? This whole time period was much less familiar to Alison—would her friend be all right, left here at Talcott Forest? And what about returning? What if Geoffrey discovered the way to get them back to the future? “I—I suppose I could,” she began slowly. “But I have to talk to Alison. I can’t just leave her here—she’s not as familiar with all this as I am. I can’t just go off and leave her, especially if she’s feeling alone and frightened.”
“She’ll be safe here. My brother will watch out for her. Nothing will happen to her here.”
Olivia took a deep breath and looked around at the peaceful scene. Bees buzzed contentedly in the sunshine, and in the kitchen gardens, two teenage boys weeded on their hands and knees. Somewhere close by, a woman was singing. The whole atmosphere was one of peace and tranquility. It was hard to believe that civil unrest and religious persecutions simmered beneath the placid surface.
“I do not doubt that you would want her to be safe here, and I believe that Geoffrey would do all that he could to protect her from any kind of harm. But you and I both know that circumstances can change on the turn of a dime—a shilling,” she corrected herself. “And it seems to me this undertaking, as you describe it, is filled with a certain amount of risk. What if something happens?”
“I wouldn’t let anything happen—”
She held up her hand. “I know it wouldn’t be your intention. But this is not without danger. And my first loyalty must be to my friend.”
“Will you talk to her?”
“Of course.”
“And if she agrees, you’ll go?”
Olivia hesitated. Privately, she doubted there would be a snowball’s chance in hell of Alison agreeing to this scheme. The last thing Alison would agree with was involvement in Elizabethan intrigue. But the more she thought of it… “How long would I be gone?”
A smile danced at the corners of his mouth. “I must leave four days hence. I expect to be in Calais no more than a day or two—long enough to make the contact with the Spanish agent. And then we’ll return immediately, I’ll bring you back here before I go on to London.”
“So no more than two or three days?”
“Four or five, I expect. Some of it depends on the seas, you see. The crossing may be delayed if the weather is foul.”
Olivia shifted her weight. “I’ll talk to Alison. I can make no promises.”
A wide grin spread across his face, and he took both her hands in his and brought them impulsively to his lips.
“It may be that you’ve brought me the Queen’s own luck, my lady.” He pressed her hands together and took one step toward her. For a moment, she thought he meant to kiss her, when a dry cough made them spring apart. “Do I interrupt, Lord Nicholas?”
Olivia jumped. Sir John Makepeace, dressed in his unrelieved black, stood on the path, gazing pointedly at the couple.
Nicholas recovered, bowing to Sir John. He released Olivia’s hand slowly, as though reluctant to let it go. “Good morning, Sir John. My cousin and I were enjoying this beautiful day.”
The Puritan raised his eyebrow, and his expression showed quite clearly exactly how he thought they were enjoying it. “Indeed.” There was a long pause as he ran his eyes up and down Olivia, taking in her masculine garb. His eyes lingered on her legs, and Olivia fought the urge to cross her arms over her breasts. Suddenly she realized that the shape of her legs through the thick hose undoubtedly constituted a scandalous exposure. “You prefer men’s clothing to women’s, mistress?”
Olivia wet her lips. “My own, my own clothing was ruined in the journey, sir—a careless groom—everything must be laundered.” She glanced up at Nicholas, and their eyes met. She read approval and something which could only be gratitude at her ready lie. “If you’ll both excuse me, I’ll go and see how everything is coming along.”
“And how does your sister, mistress?” Sir John’s dry voice startled her as she turned on her heel.
“Alison is feeling much better, thank you, sir.” She bobbed a little curtsy and withdrew, knowing that both men watched her as she hurried back to the house.
There was another brief silence. Nicholas waited until Olivia disappeared around the corner of the path, and Sir John’s dry cough once more broke through his reverie. “Would you care for some refreshment, Sir John?”
The knight merely gave him a sour look. “I came to discuss my daughter’s betrothal, Lord Nicholas, but such doings as a woman dressed in a man’s clothes is surely an abomination before the Lord. What sort of household do you keep, sir? My daughter has been raised to do her duty as the Lord instructed, to be a comfort to her husband. But such a sight—did you perchance forget my visit, as you were no doubt busy entertaining your, ah, cousins?”
“Of course not, Sir John.” A pang went through Nicholas as he thought of Sir John’s pale, skinny daughter. Patience Makepeace was about as far from the toothsome Olivia as he could imagine. A pity he could only ask her to pretend to be his wife. She was far closer to his idea of what a wife should be.
“I have given the matter some thought,” Sir John was saying. “And upon reflection, while I am not yet opposed to the idea, I see that this is not a matter to be rushed. I am not ruling out the possibility of a marriage, you understand, but I cannot know what to think of you, seeing that, that, spectacle just now.”
Of course not, you old goat, thought Nicholas, watching the man’s thin lips purse as though he’d tasted something sour, you covet my lands too much.
“If you must have your leman—”
“My what?” Nicholas burst out. “I beg your pardon, sir!”
“That lady, if such she be, is no more your cousin than I am, Lord Nicholas,” the knight said dryly. “But I understand that a man has needs.”
Nicholas folded his lips together and drew himself up. He met the knight’s eyes with a cool stare that conveyed more clearly than words the gap between their respective ranks. “I find you forward, Sir John. That lady is no more my leman than you are, sir. And I will thank you not to insult her. Her clothing was, as she explained, quite rui
ned in the journey, and this is a masculine household—I have few comforts to offer a lady as yet. There was nothing among the maids to fit her, and I could not be so cruel as to shut her up till the laundry was done.” The idea of marrying Patience Makepeace and thus forging a legal relationship with her overbearing, sanctimonious father was seeming less and less attractive. Sir John might well be rich, and Patience’s dowry might go a long way toward restoring the Talcott fortunes, but he’d almost rather marry Olivia in her borrowed shirt and hose than anyone related to Sir John in a cloth o’ gold. “I’m off to Calais in a few days. I suggest we meet again a fortnight hence, and give the matter more reflection. I may not be a suitable match for your daughter.”
Anger flickered in the knight’s watery eyes. Greed, and the opportunity to annex the Talcott lands, warred with clear dislike of the younger man. “As you wish, Lord Nicholas.” Without any more ado, the knight turned on his heel and stalked back to the house.
Nicholas narrowed his eyes, watching until the knight was out of sight. Perhaps the Queen’s favor would bring the interest of another heiress, and he could forget he ever thought of courting skinny Patience Makepeace. The thought that Sir John might be his father-in-law, and have the right, through his daughter, to enjoy anything of Talcott Forest, made Nicholas’s blood run cold. And somehow, Nicholas knew that there would be no more conversations regarding a betrothal to Patience Makepeace.
“He wants you to do what?” Alison stared at Olivia, alarm clear on her face. “How could you even think of it?”
Olivia sighed. “Well…”
“You want to do it, don’t you? I can see by the look on your face the whole idea intrigues you.”
Olivia shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I won’t if you don’t want me to, Allie. I don’t want to leave you alone.”
Alison made an impatient gesture. “Oh, cut that out. We’ve known each other too long, Liv. Look, I can understand why you’d want to do it. This whole thing has to seem like a dream come true for you. And I can tell that Charming Nicholas thinks you’re okay, too. But are you sure you can pull this off?”
Olivia shrugged. “I guess I really don’t know. But think of the opportunity, Allie. This is a chance my father would’ve given both arms for.”
“But you aren’t your father, Liv,” Alison said gently.
“Listen. I don’t have to do this. If you think you’d rather—”
“Livvie, stop.” Alison leaned back against the hard back of the chair and stretched both her long legs out on the other one. She smiled at Olivia. “This isn’t about me, and you know it.” She waved one hand in the general direction of the door. “Charming Geoffrey’s just fine. He’s a good sort, and I think I might be able to help him. At least math isn’t a complete mystery to me.” She winked at Olivia, and Olivia knew she was referring to the fact that Olivia had struggled three times to pass Algebra I in high school. Only intense tutoring from both Alison and her older cousin had helped in any way. “The real question is, do you want to? And do you really understand what you’re walking into?”
Olivia sighed. She bounced a little on the bed, her legs dangling like a child’s from the high mattress, twisting her hands together in her lap. “I—I think I do. I mean, do you know, all the time, what you’re getting into, at one of those schools? I mean, when you get involved in breaking up a fight or something, how do you know one of those kids isn’t armed?”
“I always assume they’re both armed.” Alison grinned. “I can see this is the opportunity of a lifetime for you. It’s this perfect blend of the history that you know better than the back of your hand and a chance to play a part but, Livvie, if you get it wrong, what can happen? I don’t think Geoffrey was kidding when he was talking about burning at the stake. Do you?”
“No.” She met Alison’s eyes squarely. “I don’t.”
“So I guess the question is, are you willing to risk your life to do this?”
There was a short silence. Finally Olivia drew a deep breath and nodded. “I guess I am.”
Alison got to her feet, adjusted her shirt and her hose, and patted Olivia’s shoulder. “Don’t guess. Be sure. This is your life we’re talking about, and the prospect of an excruciating death.”
“But what about you? What if Geoffrey finds a way to send us back?”
Alison laughed. “Afraid I’ll get back without you?” she teased. “Look, if it happens that Geoffrey can get us back—well, what do you think I should do?”
“I think you have to go. There wouldn’t be any point to just hanging around here waiting for me. If you get the chance to go back first, just tell everyone I decided to stay in England for a few more days. And that’s kind of the truth, right? You can tell Mrs. Higgins and the tour company that I went off on my own. Just say something about me being a crazy academic type. You know, a nutty professor. And keep your fingers crossed that Geoffrey can make it work a third time, okay?”
Alison bent slightly and gave her a swift hug. “Oh, Livvie, I want you to be careful. Promise you’ll be careful.”
“Of course I’ll be careful.” Unexpectedly, Olivia’s eyes filled with tears. Trust Alison to cut to the heart of the matter.
“What about clothes? Where’s he going to get all the stuff you’re going to need?”
Olivia shrugged. “Beats me. I didn’t even ask him about that. I didn’t want to encourage him too much, you know.”
“From the way he looks at you, I’d say you don’t have to encourage him too much at all.”
“Oh!” Olivia playfully slapped Alison’s arm. “You always say stuff like that.”
“Come on.” Alison jerked her head in the direction of the door. “I can’t wait to hear how Prince Charming intends to pull this one off. Let’s go hunt both of them down and tell them we like it here so much we’ve decided to stay permanently.”
Olivia burst out laughing as she slid to the floor. “Oh, Allie. I think that would give both of them heart failure.”
“Humph.” Alison rolled her eyes. “If Geoffrey can’t figure out how to get us back, he’s going to wish that’s all he gets.”
They dined by candlelight, even though the light lingered long into the summer evening. A soft breeze blew through the open windows of Geoffrey’s study, making the flames flicker on the creamy white tapers. Nicholas had said he felt it wisest to keep the two women away from as many of the servants as possible, and he had sent his agent, an older man who normally dined with the brothers, off to Canterbury on some pretext of pressing business before his trip.
Olivia watched silently as Geoffrey and Alison discussed the calculations with great animation. She chewed her food carefully, watching her friend’s face. Alison’s cheeks were flushed a delicate pink. Geoffrey’s eyes sparkled, clearly mesmerized by her nimble mind. There could be no doubt that Geoffrey found her the most entrancing woman he’d ever met. Olivia’s gaze shifted, and she happened to meet Nicholas’s eyes. He was watching her, eating as silently and as carefully as she.
“Is the food to your liking?”
His words startled her. “Why, yes,” she managed to say without dropping her bread. “It’s very good.”
“You sound surprised.”
“We are surprised,” said Alison. “In our time we think you all had constant cases of ptomaine poisoning.” She laughed.
Nicholas and Geoffrey exchanged confused looks.
“Toe-main?” asked Geoffrey.
Alison held up a piece of meat. “Like this meat—the perception in our time is that since you didn’t have reliable means to preserve it, it was constantly going bad and making people sick.”
Nicholas wiped his mouth and fingers delicately on his napkin. Both brothers had faultless table manners. Olivia noticed. “It is a problem indeed, mistress—but one that your age has resolved?”
“Oh, yes,” answered Alison.
“Tell me,” said Geoffrey, leaning closer, his eyes alight with curiosity. ‘Tell me, how—”
; “Forgive me, Geoffrey.” Nicholas rose to his feet. “There’re matters I must discuss with Mistress Olivia concerning our trip. If you’re finished, mistress, will you join me?”
Olivia picked up her napkin and carefully wiped each finger just as he’d done. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’m quite finished.”
“You don’t mind. Geoffrey?”
“Not at all, not at all.” Geoffrey gave an airy wave. “Please, mistress, pray continue. How is this accomplished?”
Before Alison could launch into a description of modern refrigeration methods, Olivia rose to her feet and slipped out of the room with Nicholas. She gave him a wink as she joined him in the hall. “And I beg your pardon, mistress,” he said as he offered her his arm. “My brother’s constant questions would try the patience of a saint.”
She allowed him to lead her down the stairs into the great hall. “I understand his curiosity. He’s accomplished something quite amazing, all things considered.”
“Hm.” For a moment, Nicholas looked grim. “Will you walk with me, mistress?”
She nodded assent, and he led her out of the hall and into the gardens once more. The summer twilight had darkened into a wash of deep purples and violets and pinks across the sky, and the stars were beginning to twinkle over their heads. Without the interference of artificial light, they looked like fairy dust sprinkled over silk. A hush had descended over the gardens, and the night air was warm. Insects chirped steadily, and from the wide beds of flowering shrubs and herbs, a sweet, grassy scent arose, warm and green. Olivia breathed deeply. There was so much here that was truly beautiful—no wonder Nicholas loved his home so much. And unlike the Talcott Forest she’d seen at the end of the twentieth century, this Talcott Forest had a homey, lived-in feeling to it that was totally different from the cold sterility of the future.
“First of all,” he said without preamble, “I want to apologize for the way Sir John behaved towards you today. It’s my fault—I forgot he was coming, and I suppose it wasn’t prudent of me to allow you to walk about in the garden dressed”—he paused and ran his eyes over her “dressed the way you are.”
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