Why did she just say that?
“Look,” she continued, as another wave of dizziness crashed upon her. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me… maybe if I just sit for a few more minutes.”
“Settling for a rest in thy chamber is a most excellent idea, dear cousin,” Elthea enticed. “I do fancy after all you have suffered this day, a repose is in order. You shan’t be alone, child, I shall stay with you. Come this way,” Elthea began leading as she stood and gently grasped Maggie’s arms before she could sit down again.
Placing an arm around Maggie’s waist, Elthea motioned for them to leave through the door Maggie had wanted to inspect when she first entered the great hall. But the oddest thing was how she found herself accepting the woman’s guidance farther into this castle. Why was that? A little voice seemed to be telling her something was rotten in Denmark, and although she giggled internally at the irony of her own pun, she knew deep inside not all was as it should be. Yet, the thought of lying down for just a little while seemed so appealing.
The heavy oaken door hinges squealed and the sound carried across the great hall as Countess Elthea pulled it back. Beyond it, Maggie saw a winding staircase of stone, illuminated by thick candles flickering in large iron sconces. She allowed a groan to escape her lips.
“Come, child. We shall do this together. Step by step. It isn’t far,” Elthea encouraged.
Maggie concentrated on each step, leaning against the woman for support as her own energy seemed drained.
“What’s wrong with me?” she moaned as they rounded each step, merely to be faced with more stairs. “Why do I feel so weak?”
Elthea sighed. “I pledged to care for and be true to you, precious cousin. I beg, accept within my reason, I have your best interests at heart for I love thee dearly. Recall a time, long ago, when you were but a small child on sojourn just after your father died. You came to me in the night, frightened by dreadful mares. That eve, you were served a mildly potent drink which assisted thee to rest in quietude. Do you recall that night, child?”
With mental desperation, Maggie compiled the woman’s words down to the only thing that made sense. “I remember when my father died, but you… you were my aunt Edithe then,” she stuttered. “It was the first and only time I met you.”
At least she had the presence of mind to know that now she was really confused.
“Hush, dear Margaret, we share the same ancestry…” Elthea continued, “therefore, I confess, ’tis the mead that debilitates. I instructed Evan to blend a gentle potion which simply allows one to rest not only the body, but also the mind. Pray, do not conclude I am deceitful, child. When you arrived, most distraught, I realized I must take present matters into my own judgment, for it would never do to have thee in such an agitated state when your husband to be, Lord Robert, returns,” she finished with a puff of exhaustion.
Maggie heard all her words, yet they registered as if everything were in slow motion, while this woman, and everything around her, was in real time. Three steps from the landing she halted and pulled back against the curved stone wall, while staring at the woman who held her in the unbalanced condition.
“Wait a minute… you drugged me?”
“Dearest Margaret, remember, if nothing else, I understand the loss of great love in this life, and how loneliness can play havoc with not only the heart, but the mind as well. When you arrived, ranting senselessly, after all you have been through, I felt there was no other alternative but to quell your state of delusion,” the woman chided. “Regrettably, Nicholas has already observed your behavior, yet he is an honorable man and after I speak with him, I am certain no further word of your… your confusion will pass his lips.”
“You drugged me!” Maggie’s heart started racing as fear infiltrated her body and took hold. Her head was spinning. Her arms and legs felt like anvils were attached to them, making every step an enormous effort. She knew if she didn’t find a place to sit down soon, she was going to fade out.
“Please, Margaret, I am endeavoring to keep this unfortunate display away from the eyes of gossiping servants. It wouldn’t do for Robert to think that you are not capable of making sound decisions. Your chamber is right there.” She pointed to a large wooden door on the other side of the landing. “You must rest, child, and be able to receive Robert this evening.”
Maggie found herself putting one foot in front of the other, desperate now to reach a bed. She tripped once and cursed at her gown. “Shit… how do you wear this stuff?” she mumbled, knowing she should be very angry and yet somehow feeling a companionship with the woman who had just drugged her! Damn… she did need a rest!
“Countess Elthea…”
Maggie heard the male voice and froze as she entered a long stone hallway. The man who had brought the tray, Evan, was closing a door and spied them. “So much for stopping gossip,” Maggie managed to say, though her lips were enjoyably tingly.
“Oh, Evan is devoted to me,” Elthea whispered, grunting as she again led Maggie toward the assigned room.
Evan hurried to them and flung open the door. In the recesses of Maggie’s mind, she registered a huge bed covered in luxuriant furs, a fireplace at one end, and lit sconces on the walls. There was a table and a chair and an ornately carved wardrobe. Nice place, she thought… to be drugged and held captive by some loony foreigners. This has to be a dream, she thought, and was sure she would wake up in her aunt’s bedroom.
She really wasn’t the adventurous type.
“But if I’m not… you know, like dreaming, then what a crazy adventure,” she said, right before being deposited upon a bed that she swore was filled with straw. “I should have stayed home and found a job and paid my bills and…”
Elthea was guiding her toward the pillow, and Maggie gave up her worry and just sank against the sweet softness. Rest, she thought, for just a few minutes, until she got her bearings back, and then she would give them all hell before she stormed out of the place.
She vaguely heard Elthea talking to the man who had closed the door and was standing by the bed.
“Oh, Evan, whatever shall I do? Robert is to arrive soon, and Lady Margaret is obviously not in her right mind. How can I keep her isolated until clarity returns? So much depends upon this union, yet I want Margaret to be fully aware of her decisions. She is like a daughter to me, and I wish only to protect her.”
“M’lady, do not distress thyself. Should the Lady Margaret still be… indisposed when Robert returns, we shall simply say she is recovering from her exhausting trip. Anyone, especially a gentlewoman, would be taxed after such a crossing from the Continent. It would seem reasonable to wait a few days for their meeting.”
“I do not know what else to do, Evan. The dear child has had so much grief in her short life, it is no wonder that she escapes in her mind. I fear Robert would not have patience with her if she continued to rave about such strange things. He knows she is still grieving for her late husband, though it has been many years since he passed. I only saw them together once, yet their union was blessed by such love it is no wonder her desolation has made her appear peculiar to some.”
“I… I’m not this woman,” Maggie mumbled, drifting off. She had heard their conversation and felt sorry for the woman they spoke of, but she was also determined they know she wasn’t the peculiar one here. She merely needed to rest, and then she would be able to make herself understood and get back to sanity, safety. That’s all…
Just as sleep was wrapping its dark arms around her, a thought passed though her mind.
She had asked for an adventure, to go joyriding into the unknown, and she’d gotten it.
A brief vision of her aunt Edithe flashed, and she heard her voice saying…
“Bullshit! There is no safety! You can’t have an adventure until you lose your perception of safety.”
If it weren’t so bizarre, she’d laugh. Well, if her lips still worked, she would have laughed. Whatever was happening to her was one hell of an adventure
. She felt like Alice in Wonderland, and she had definitely fallen down some kind of rabbit’s hole. She only hoped when she awakened she’d be in her aunt’s guest bedroom in Trowbridge, or back in New Jersey.
Anywhere… but here, on the other side of the looking glass.
Chapter Six
The soft strains of music entered her wild dreams, dreams where she saw herself racing through the woods with a handsome man. A part of her brain was sending signals that she must wake up, yet all Maggie Wanted was to return to the man with such beautiful eyes, who professed to love her more than she’d ever thought was possible. Still the soft, quaint notes lulled her away, and soon she had lost him. Knowing she could never recapture such a wondrous dream, she began accepting, reluctantly, that it was time to awaken. Her senses became more alive, and Maggie smelled the faint aroma of food. Blinking, she stretched her arms and was about to yawn when her vision was captured by a continuing nightmare.
She couldn’t believe it!
The guy from the faire was dressed in a new costume of burgundy and white, and he was sitting on a chair in the corner of the room with his leg propped up on a cushioned stool as he played a mandolin. And… and the woman who had seemed so nice and then drugged her, was sitting at her bedside sewing something as she slowly nodded in time to the music! They both looked so peaceful, so innocent, as though both were sane!
The woman glanced at Maggie and dropped her sewing to her lap. A smile Maggie would have sworn was real appeared.
“You have awakened, child. How do you feel?”
Maggie attempted to bring moisture into her dry mouth. It didn’t help her mood to realize that as she was licking her lips the troubadour stopped playing his weird-looking guitar and was now staring at her.
Wide-awake, she pushed herself into a sitting position, and said, “I hope you both realize kidnapping is a major crime in any country. I demand that I be released!” It sounded so melodramatic, like something someone would say if they were in a movie, and that feeling of strangeness returned with force.
Why would they still be keeping up this elaborate charade?
“Lady Margaret, cousin, daughter of the sister of my soul, I would not hold you against your will, nor would anyone here.” Elthea looked beyond her to Nicholas and smiled in acknowledgment before turning back to Maggie. “I ask your indulgence for aiding in your rest, child, yet I can see that you are still confused. Pray let us speak of this with a calm voice, so we may each be heard. I ask this with your best wishes in my heart.” She delicately patted the center of her breast. “I will listen and speak through this.”
Despite the chaos that was wildly running through her head, Maggie found herself nodding in mock agreement. What were her other options? She could make a mad dash for the door. The drugs had worn off. They might not catch her, but it was now dark, and she didn’t see herself running through forest and stream in the middle of the night, searching for a Renaissance Festival and the year 2000. All she was certain of was the fact she wasn’t about to be drugged again.
“O-kaaay,” she rasped. She simply didn’t know how to refuse such respectful logic and cleared her throat. “All right. Where am I? What year do you think it is?” Wow. Maybe she was still a little woozy.
No one said anything. They were both staring at her as if she’d lost her senses. “Okay, so you didn’t get it,” she said, waving her hand. “Skip the last question and answer the others. Starting with, who are you people? And how dare you drug me to keep me here?”
Elthea immediately rose and started pacing the room, wringing her hands together and sending darting glances to the freshly attired actor in the corner.
Of course, she was still bound up in a soiled, bulky, uncomfortable costume. If she looked bad before, imagining what she must look like now made Maggie grind her back teeth.
“Well…?”
The woman stopped pacing and grabbed the thickly carved dark wooden footboard. “Lady Margaret… I am your cousin, Countess Elthea. You are here to be joined in marriage to my son, Robert. Lord Amesbury. And this is Nicholas Layton, son of my fondest friend, Lady Anne. I sent for him, and you encountered him after running from the woods. Margaret, what happened in those woods? Now you must try to remember and tell us.”
Maggie saw that Elthea really believed what she was saying and that Nick had believed it before the two women had even met. Something was very, very weird. As it was dark and she wasn’t about to go running off in the woods in a foreign country, Maggie decided that she would answer their questions. Just play along, she thought. Since her reality was vastly different than theirs, and they couldn’t even discuss hers, it was her only course. Play along… until she could escape.
“Okay, you want me to tell you my story?”
“Aye.”
“About what happened in the woods?”
Elthea nodded, and even Nick leaned forward with interest. At any other time she might have laughed at him, but this was way too serious. Even the truth was too bizarre.
“And you won’t interrupt?” She shot that question toward the singer, now trying to appear uninterested.
“Nicholas?” Elthea whispered to him, like a mother chiding a child to respond.
“I will not interrupt Her Ladyship’s recounting of her unfortunate mishap in yonder wood. Does that satisfy Lady Margaret?”
“Your dry wit is not appreciated at this time, Nicholas,” Elthea remarked.
He looked to Elthea and became contrite. “I beg your pardon. I will not interrupt.”
“Thank you,” the woman answered, then smiled encouragingly to Maggie. “Tell us, child. I am listening with my heart.”
“May I have something to drink first? Something without drugs or potions. Just plain ole water will do fine.”
Elthea hurried to a table and brought a large round tray to the bed. Placing it on the fur blanket Maggie had thrown off in her sleep, the woman then poured what looked like water into a heavy silver cup. She handed it to Maggie with the words, “I swear by all I hold sacred, this water is pure, taken from our well. I have added nothing.”
She then removed a cloth and revealed a trencher of bread, soaked in gravy with a slab of meat on top. “Eat, child, and tell us your story.”
Taking her chair and angling it better to see Maggie’s face, Elthea whispered, “We shall listen without interference.”
As incredible as it would sound to anyone if she dared to express her thoughts, Maggie found herself liking this woman, a woman who admitted drugging her! It was crazy. Maybe she could secure not only Elthea’s sympathies but her help in escaping as well? Hmm… she would think on that later. Right then, she had to pull herself together and entertain them. Well, she would tell her story, and it would be the truth.
Let’s see how they handle that, she thought while bringing the cup to her lips.
The truth… It seemed a rare commodity.
Sipping the water, which tasted better than any water she could remember, Maggie deduced it wasn’t drugged. She was so thirsty that she drank three cupfuls before again licking her lips and glancing at Nick.
A surge of feminine power went through her as she saw his stunned reaction to her subtle flirtation. Clearing her throat, she looked at Elthea.
“Well,” she began, “it all started when my aunt sent me a birthday card with a ticket to England. Can you imagine? Me, either, especially since I’d just lost my job, but then I thought… what the hell, you know? I mean, what did I have to lose? A chance to get away from all that and visit with my aunt. You would have done it, right?”
She looked into their stunned faces and laughed. “Okay, no interruptions. Well-done, guys. Where was I? Oh, right… So I’m with my aunt and she says we’re going to a Renaissance Festival, something she and Malcolm, that’s her lover, have done for years and years. Now she not only has this costume for me, this very dress…” And Maggie waved her hand in front of herself, before ripping the snood the rest of the way from her hair. Shaking
the length of it free, she glanced at Nick in the candlelight and was pleased to see him inhale deeply.
Brushing her hair back from her face, Maggie smiled at Elthea and continued.
“So you can see why I couldn’t refuse to wear it, right? It is, or was, lovely before the woods incident. Anyway, the night before the faire my aunt also gave me a special strand of pearls that were precious to her. So we go to this faire and everyone is talking just like you guys, only even thicker sometimes… you know, all your thees and thous and exaggerated speech. Like, mammering clapper-clawed maggot-pie. There’s one I remember!”
Elthea’s chin dropped, but, to her credit, she did not interrupt. Nick, on the other hand, brought his fist up to his mouth and attempted to muffle a laugh.
“Anyway, so my aunt and Malcolm want to go through this maze. Are ye prepared to be a-mazed? That’s what the man said at the entrance. Well, I’ve been a-mazed all right! I’ve gone beyond amazement into insanity, for nothing else could explain what happened after I entered. There was this little girl following me all day at the faire. She looked almost angelic and she gave me a rose…”
She spoke, without interruption, for the next twenty minutes. Sometimes, she would judge their reactions and then, seeing how shocked they were, would look out to the room as she related the sequence of events that brought her to this place.
“… and then I was drugged and deposited on this bed and, well, here we are folks. That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it.”
Her audience appeared stunned, speechless, and Maggie congratulated herself for giving a great performance. There was too much detail in her story for them to completely disregard it as the ravings of a crazed woman. Neither said anything for several moments. They just continued to stare at her and each other.
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