I had never been any good in home ec at school. It wasn’t fair that the girls were forced to sew aprons or make change purses while the boys got to do woodworking. Who knew I would one day need that skill?
“Do you want another sip?” I held a glass of nice brandy to Henry’s lips. Mr. Greasly had been kind enough to leave us a bottle.
He had started breathing through his teeth, which told me it was painful.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to give it a go?” I asked.
The skepticism in my own voice was answered with a grunt from Henry, which at the moment was his version of a laugh.
“Almost done here.” He accepted a quick sip and continued his work. He was truly gifted at this. The stitching on my own arm was smooth and healing nicely.
With a quick nod he gestured for me to cut the thread. Once the bandages were on, color started to return to his face. He was lying on the small single bed and I sat perched on the side of it. His injured leg was elevated with some pillows after I’d insisted it would help.
He studied my face. We both stared at each other, taking everything in. It was the first time since he’d told me he loved me that we’d had enough light to see one another’s expression. His brows furrowed.
“What happened to your nose?” In all the craziness of him being dead and then coming back to life we hadn’t talked about how I’d come to him in the first place. “Your left eye looks swollen too.”
“Oh, right.” As if on cue my nose started to throb and a sick feeling rose in my gut. I wasn’t sure how to start.
I felt drained from all the lies I’d had to tell over the past week and couldn’t do that anymore. If he was going to love me he needed to love all of me. So I told him what Mr. Jacob had done to me and what he’d said about Isobel being the one to hire him.
Henry listened without interrupting me once. He flinched when I described the struggle and near rape. The whole time I spoke he held my hand, gently stroking me with the pad of his thumb, like he was rubbing a small kitten in the furry bit between its eyes. I cried when I told him about leaving Mr. Jacob in the fire. The loss of human life weighed heavily on my conscience, but he looked at me without judgment.
“Emma, I am appalled that I allowed this to happen to you. You were in my care and I failed you. For that I will never forgive myself. I betrayed your trust and yet here you are tending to my wounds when I should be making amends for yours. As for Isobel, I should have warned you about her the moment she turned up at Dormer House.” His expression was somber. “I was consumed with my own problems at the time and failed to.”
“You could never have known.”
“I have always known her nature and should have taken certain precautions. Even as a young girl she was always so manipulative. I think she does it for sport. She once had a poor stable boy sent away after she pretended he’d tried to force himself on her. Everyone knew she was lying but the boy was sent away anyway and the lad’s mother died shortly after for heartbreak. Isobel lied about it because she was feeling bored and wanted some attention.” Lord Henry looked disgusted as he remembered the incident.
“Didn’t you tell anyone?” I asked.
“Of course. I told my father and he refused to believe it because the countess had assured him it was true. A smart man always sides with his wife, my father told me, and that was the end of it.”
It started to make sense. Isobel loved to play the victim so she always bent the facts so that people felt sorry for her. How much energy she must expel keeping track of all the lies or half-truths. She’d thrown me a few bones here and there, making me believe she was so kind and generous, all the while plotting to destroy me. But why? For her own amusement? And what about her brother’s attempted murder? Clearly she’d had some hand in that.
Then something struck me. “Henry, if you died, who would inherit the earldom? Would it pass to your brother Edmund?”
“No, he’s only my stepbrother. It would go to my sister’s husband. God help whoever marries her.” He looked mortified at the thought.
“Oh, I didn’t realize Edmund wasn’t your father’s son. Then it makes sense. That could be Isobel’s motive.”
“I never thought of her as an ambitious woman, but clearly I was mistaken. How easily she was able to deceive us all. She is more clever than I ever imagined.”
Her tangled web would be difficult to prove.
“If you tell yourself a lie often enough I suppose eventually you start to believe it.” As I said it, it struck a nerve and I realized that I had started to convince myself of the lies I’d been telling since I got here.
“However, it doesn’t always work.” A look of mock guilt crossed Lord Henry’s face. “I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t falling in love with you but clearly that failed miserably.”
He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. With a small tug he pulled me down to him and we kissed slowly but passionately. My body tingled under his touch. I could feel that familiar pull he had over me. Soon I would lose myself to him completely, so I pulled away, which took every ounce of willpower I could muster.
Before anything more could be said between us he needed to know the truth about me. I had a new set of butterflies in the pit of my stomach this time, not from need of him but from fear. How was he going to react to what I told him?
“I need to tell you my story.”
“You have already, and I’m moved by your courage.” He tried to urge me closer.
“No, there’s more.” I sat up straight and held his hand.
“Oh?” He tried to sit up too but it was too painful so he stayed where he was.
“So you remember the day you found me?”
He nodded. Then I proceeded to tell him everything. When I told him about Ben, I could feel him tense up a little but he listened to my every word. I even told him about my journey into Oxwich alone and about Miss Crabtree.
“Really? Women are allowed to marry each other?” he said with astonishment. After everything I had told him, that was the first thing he picked up on as being a stretch of the imagination.
“You did hear everything I told you, right?” I wasn’t sure if he’d actually registered the rest of my story.
“Every word of it.” He studied the pattern of the bedding a moment, no doubt trying to figure out what to say. “Well, your story sounds as fantastical as one of those Grimm Brothers’ tales. Had you told me this when we’d first met, I’d have known you to be mad. However, knowing you as I’ve had the pleasure to do so, I can see that you have all your faculties.” He laughed a little. “You are nothing like the women I have known in my lifetime, but everything I find myself desiring to be with. I can’t fault you for misleading me, as we both know I would never have listened.”
“Do you believe me?”
“I do believe that you are telling me the truth as you know it to be. But you’ll have to bear with me, Emma, as you’ve just turned my world upside down in every way.” He searched my eyes. “Your story does at least help to explain one small piece of the puzzle.”
He dug around in his pocket and pulled out something the size of a business card and handed it to me. I flipped it over in my hand and there was my own face staring back at me. My California driver’s license.
“How’d you—?”
“After you’d left, or been taken, I should say”—he looked a little sheepish—“I questioned Harris about your things and after many threats and much persuasion he gave it to me. First he tried to ask for money in exchange but then thought better of it. It turns out he’d been stashing some of our household items in the passageway to the barn in the hopes of fetching a small fortune.”
I remembered the candlestick that I’d tripped over in the tunnel.
Henry squeezed my hand. Harris had probably hoped to blackmail me to get it back until he’d realized that I had nothing. I guessed Harris had probably written the note that I’d found under my door.
“He doesn’t kn
ow how to read”—or maybe not—“so I don’t think he knew what to make of it. I couldn’t make sense of it either at the time, but now, hearing your story…” Henry was still confused but knew that I was telling the truth.
“This is my driver’s license.” I held it up for him to see. “In my time we don’t get around on horseback or carriages, we have cars. It’s like a carriage but with a motor instead of horses. It propels itself forward and it goes very fast.”
“Incredible,” he said with the fascination of a little boy. “What about those germs you spoke of? Is that something from your time?”
I wasn’t sure how much I should say. Was this going to disrupt something in the space-time continuum? Was that even a thing?
“Germs are like tiny little bugs that we can’t see with our eyes but that transmit disease. In the near future one of your physicians will discover the germ theory and then it will become widely known. Just like cholera. A physician named John Snow is right now investigating the cholera outbreak in London and will soon discover that contaminated water is the source.”
“If what you say is correct, we’ve had it all wrong.” He smoothed his left hand through his hair as he contemplated what I’d just told him, his interest in medicine taking hold.
“Obviously I’d keep this to yourself. I don’t know how this knowledge could affect anything in the future.”
“If you are truly what you say you are”—he hesitated—“from the future, do you want to go back?”
Ah, the question I’d been asking myself. His eyes were searching mine. It felt like they were pleading with me to say no.
“Well, I did at first, but I didn’t know how. I’m still not clear on how I got here. But now…” We looked at each other and I realized this was where I belonged. With him.
A loud knock at the door startled both of us. I could hear voices on the other side. Mrs. Greasly was fussing over someone.
“Out of my way, woman!” It was the muffled sound of the earl’s voice.
The door swung open. In poured the earl, flanked by two men in blue uniform, both looking like they’d been dragged out of bed or come straight from a long night of drinking. Mrs. Greasly flitted about trying to reassure everyone that they were operating a decent establishment and not a brothel. Her eyes fell on me with accusation.
“Constable, arrest this woman for attempting to harm my son. And for the murder of Mr. Marc Jacob.” The earl practically spat the words. I stood up immediately in all the panic.
“Father, this is ridiculous!” Lord Henry shouted, trying to get out of bed, but found that his body was far less mobile than he thought. “You’re gravely mistaken.”
“This woman is a thief and a charlatan,” the earl continued.
“You’re wrong!” I shouted back. “Someone tried to kill your son and if I’d not come along they’d have succeeded.”
“How dare you talk to me with such incivility. You may have corrupted my son’s better judgment but not mine. Remove this woman from my sight immediately.”
“You have no right.” Lord Henry was furious. “Miss Emma is not the villain here, it is Isobel and your wretched wife! If you so much as displace one hair on her body, so help me, I will strike you down.” His eyes were bloodshot, making him look more fierce, and everyone in the room held their breath to see what the earl would do next.
The storm outside had come back with a vengeance and a clap of thunder had everyone a little more tense. All eyes were on me, as if I’d used special powers to summon the storm. Everyone seemed on edge. Mrs. Greasly made some little hand gesture against the devil. Part of me wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but when men had their dander up who knew what could happen with the least bit of provocation. Like fighting dogs, a change in the breeze could be enough to turn the tide.
“Take her.” The earl would not look weak in front of an audience. Whatever storm might come from it, he didn’t care as long as he didn’t lose face right now.
One short burly constable grabbed hold of me from behind and dragged me out of the room. I would not be falsely imprisoned. Not again. Not this time.
“No!” Lord Henry shouted from the room. “Release her!”
“Constable, I need to teach my son a lesson, if you’ll excuse us.”
My legs thumped down the stairs as my captor tried to drag a woman taller than himself. I only pretended to struggle weakly until we were down the stairs and away from the watchful eyes of the other constable. The bear hug was the easiest grab for a woman to escape from if she knew what to do and it just so happened I did. April and I had loved our kickboxing and street-fighting classes. We’d done them during college more as exercise, never imagining that we would ever use it for real.
As soon as I was alone with my assailant I dropped my weight down into a squat and raised my arms at the biceps. When his grip loosened I swung my right leg and hip back and with my left arm shoved his torso backwards so that we both collapsed to the ground. He hit his head hard when we came down and I jumped up and ran out the door before he realized what had happened.
The rain was bucketing down once again and I ran towards the stable where the gelding was sheltered under the eaves. My heart was racing, thumping hard in my throat. With a flying leap I attempted to vault onto his back. A sharp pain shot up my pubic bone as I missed my mark, but I kicked him forward anyway. He lunged into a fast trot and then a long smooth canter. My only thought was to get away, but as soon as we were a fair distance away I had to figure out where to go.
Miss Crabtree.
She seemed to be the only safe place for me. It was incredibly gloomy, but when I came out of the forest on the top of a rolling hill overlooking a quarry, I could make out lights in the distance. It had to be Oxwich. They stretched out for a long way. A part of me felt reluctant to keep going. I hated putting so much distance between myself and Henry. At least for the moment he was safe.
I dug my heels in and rode towards the lights. Another deafening thunderclap came right on top of us this time and the whole sky lit up like the Fourth of July. The smell of sulfur stung my nose and a sickening vibration coursed through my body. My horse stumbled and I slid off his back, crashing to the ground in a somersault.
Everything went black.
Chapter 31
Despair
Beep, beep, beep came the annoying sound. It was low but grated on my every nerve. Like the bleep of an alarm clock. My head throbbed. The bile rose up in my throat and I turned my head just in time to retch. My body heaved and I threw up again. Someone shuffled around my room and when I opened my eyes Ben looked down at me with a look of concern.
“What the…?” were the first words that came to me. I wasn’t sure if I said them out loud or if I just thought them.
“Nurse!” Ben called out and looked towards the door. I was in a hospital room.
I was stunned, unable to even utter a word. A surly nurse with red wispy hair came waddling in. For a moment my heart leapt when I thought it was Miss Barnsby but it was just a partial doppelganger.
“Yes, son? Oh, has she been sick again?” She clucked with sympathy.
She cleaned everything up.
“The doctor’ll be in in a bit, dear.” She said this like I was hard of hearing, then looked to Ben. “It’ll be all right, you’ll see.”
No, nothing is all right.
“Emma, can you hear me?” Ben was trying hard to be brave.
All I could do was blink my eyes in confirmation. My lips had lost the will to even open. What had happened to me? Where was Henry?
Chapter 32
Déjà Vu
While the doctor spoke I caught only every fifth word. It was like Charlie Brown listening to grown ups. Wah, wah, wah… temporal lobe seizure… wah, wah.
I knew I should be listening. Ben was doing that for the both of us. Right now I was processing. Once again my whole world had been turned upside down just when I was starting to feel like I had my feet under me. My lips still buzze
d from my last kiss with Henry like it was only moments ago.
Ben looked at me just then and I wondered if he knew what I was thinking. I couldn’t even muster up enough emotion to feel ashamed. The last thing I remembered was sliding off the gelding’s back when the lightning struck and then everything went black.
“It’s very common for someone suffering these types of seizures to feel confused and possibly even angry when they come out of it.” The doctor’s white coat glowed from the sunlight, making him look like an apparition. Perhaps he was just that. “The MRI we did early is consistent with TLE.” He clicked a wireless mouse and a picture of my brain filled the screen on the wall.
“You see here?” He pointed to a spot on my brain. Like a bored teen, I only half cocked my head to follow what he was doing. “This section looks smaller and brighter.”
Ben asked a question, good student that he was, but I stopped listening. I didn’t want the doctor’s medical explanations. How could he tell me everything I’d been through was only a symptom of epilepsy? I didn’t have epilepsy, not that I knew of.
When I’d tried to explain how real and vivid everything was to me both he and Ben simply looked at each other with a silent nod, like they were in on a secret. It infuriated me. That was when I stopped listening. I’d gone through something. I was a Wayfarer! It was a thing!
“It could be from head trauma she may have suffered in an incident long ago that no one noticed at the time. We can’t be sure,” the doctor was explaining to Ben as if I wasn’t even in the room.
“What about the car that hit me on my bike?” I suddenly felt like I needed to pay attention. Both men looked my way like they’d only just noticed me there.
“What do you mean? When were you hit by a car?” Ben looked confused.
“Well, that’s how all this started, isn’t it? I went to get groceries on Mrs. Grimshaw’s bike and when I left the store it was raining hard and some car plowed into me.”
The Wayfarer: A Time Travel Romance (The Wayfarer Series Book 1) Page 19