An Earl In Time Page 8

  It was strange to know what this place was going to look like many years from now. Shivering, she forced her attention back to Julian who was sorting through the clothes in one of the trunks.

  “Do you have any idea who might want to curse you?” she asked as she approached him. “Do you have an enemy?”

  “All gentlemen have their share of enemies,” he replied with a glance in her direction. “I did win a significant amount of money in a wager that was placed at a gentleman’s club. Gentlemen don’t like losing money.”

  “Did this gentleman come after you with some kind of spell?”

  He laughed. “A spell? As in an enchantment?”

  Surprised he should take this particular stance against the idea, she said, “It seems to me that someone who spent two centuries living out the same day would be open to the idea of spells. You have been living under some kind of curse for all of these years.”

  His laughter died down, and a worried frown crossed his face. “I was hoping for a more logical explanation.”

  “Like what?”

  He thought for a moment then shrugged. “I don’t know.” Then he turned back to the trunk.

  “This place isn’t normal. There’s been nothing normal about it for a long time.” Recalling what Mr. Thompson had told her, she continued, “No one down the line of your family tree has been able to sell this place, and that includes me. Every time I tried to write my signature on the contract to let the lawyer sell it, the ink wouldn’t work.”

  He retrieved a few gowns and slippers. He stood up and focused on her. “I have no children. There was no heir for me to leave this estate to. My family line is suspended in time with me. The next gentleman to inherit the estate is my cousin.” He paused. “I suppose he acquired the version of the estate that continued on without me. He was due to marry. He probably had an heir. You must come from his line.”

  “I’m not sure about that. There was a cousin who came out here to check on you, and you and the servants weren’t anywhere.” She hesitated to add the rest, but he should know the truth. If it was her, she’d want to know what happened, even if it was gruesome. “No one knew what happened to you and the servants. Some said you killed everyone before running off. But others said your cousin killed everyone.”

  “I have two cousins. Francis is the oldest and his brother Phillip is the youngest. They would never harm anyone. In fact, Francis and I are very good friends. As for Phillip, he’s only five. He’s not old enough to kill anyone.”

  Francis. That name was familiar. She remembered Mr. Thompson saying it. She winced. Since Julian was friends with Francis, he wasn’t going to like knowing what happened to him.

  “What is it?” Julian asked. “Did something terrible happen to him? Did he disappear, too?”

  “No, he didn’t disappear,” she slowly said. “But when you didn’t return to London, he came here looking for you. Only, he didn’t find you. He didn’t even find the servants. He said everyone at this place disappeared. No one believed him. He was convicted of murdering you and the servants.” She took a deep breath and forced out, “They hanged him.”

  “They did what?!”

  She jerked at his sharp tone.

  He took a moment to compose himself then said, “Francis was supposed to marry Lady Kimberly. When I left London, he was planning his wedding. I was supposed to be there to celebrate the marriage with him.” In a whisper, he added, “He’d never been happier.”

  Noting the pain in his voice, she had to look away from him. She didn’t know what she could say or do to lessen the impact of her words. When Mr. Thompson told her about Julian’s cousin, it’d been like reading a news headline. While the events were tragic, it hadn’t affected her. But talking with Julian made it real. She shivered and hugged herself in a protective gesture.

  “I have to warn him not to come,” Julian said. He gave her the clothes and slippers. “Try these on and see how they fit. The maid can alter them if needed. I have to send out a missive.”

  She hurried after him as he bounded down the attic steps. “Do you think it’s going to do any good?”

  “I don’t know, but I have to do something. I can’t let Francis die.”

  “If the same day repeats itself over and over, he’ll never get it.”

  They reached the bottom of the staircase, and he turned to her. “You came here from the future. That’s never happened before. You’re different. That has to mean when I wake up tomorrow, it’ll finally be June 18.”

  “What if you wake up and it’s still June 17?”

  “I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens. All I can do is hope that you coming here means time will move forward for me again.”

  He headed down the hall that led to the bedrooms, and she followed him. The glass had been cleaned up on the floor. She took another look at the wall where the barrier between their time periods had been and saw that the barrier hadn’t returned. It probably wasn’t going to return. For some reason, its sole purpose seemed to be bringing her into the nineteenth century.

  But why? What made her so special?

  She followed Julian to his bedroom and took a peek into it while he ran to a small room off to the side of it. His bedroom was large like hers, and he had a large canopied bed, but the bedding was a gold color. The drapes were gold, too. The drapes hadn’t been there in the future. They had been removed. The bed had been covered with a sheet, so she hadn’t seen the matching blankets and sheets. There was even a rug at the side of the bed that was gold.

  She noted the dresser with a razor, a bowl, a comb, and other items spread out across it. Next to the dresser was a tall oak structure that made her think of those things people from the old-fashioned time period put dresses and suits in. She was sure there was a term for those things, but whatever it was, she couldn’t think of it. Mr. Thompson had told her what it was, too, when he gave her a tour of the place. Now the nightstand by his bed was familiar, but instead of a lamp, there was a small candelabra. He also had a fireplace not too far from the bed, though, given that it was summer, it wasn’t currently being used.

  She went into the bedroom and went to the small room. At the moment, Julian was sitting at a desk and writing something with what looked like one of those feathered pens she’d only seen in the movies.

  She glanced back at the clothes in her arms and decided she might as well see how well they fit her, if they fit at all. She didn’t know what she was going to do if they didn’t. It wasn’t like she’d brought her suitcase with her.

  When she entered her bedroom, she shut the door and put the clothes on the bed. She frowned. Something else was different about this room. It wasn’t just that she no longer had a private bathroom or lamps.

  She took a step back and scanned the room. It took her a few seconds, but she realized the color of her bedding and the canopy part of the bed were no longer purple. They were a deep red color. The drapes at the window were also red.

  Maybe it meant nothing, but something tickling in the back of her mind told her that this was somehow important.

  Recalling the door that had been sealed shut in the room in her time, she went to it and turned the knob. This time it opened. She peered into the other room and saw that she was looking at Julian’s bedroom. Was this also significant, or did one of her ancestors want to seal the door so someone in the other room wouldn’t barge in on them?

  But if the person didn’t want someone barging into the room, why not just put a lock on the door?

  With a shake of her head, she shut the door and went back to the bed. She sorted through the three gowns and decided to try on the short-sleeved white and peach one with the pretty frills lining the bottom of it. After she removed the clothes she put on that morning, she slipped the gown over her head and pulled it down.

  When she wore dresses in the past, she’d always picked ones that reached the top of her knees. This gown reached just above her ankles. The waistline was much higher than what she wa
s used to. The waistline was just under her breasts, and this made them far more noticeable than any of her shirts and dresses ever did. While plenty of women in her time showed off their cleavage, she hadn’t been one of them. Quite frankly, she felt way too exposed. But what could she do about it? It wasn’t like she could slip the t-shirt on without looking out of place.

  She rolled her eyes. She was out of place.

  Resisting the urge to put the t-shirt on, she sorted through the other items and pulled out the piece of clothing Julian had called stockings and slipped them on. She would look ridiculous wearing her sneakers with a gown, so she sorted through the shoes he had given her. She found a pair that matched her gown. They reminded her of ballerina slippers, except she wouldn’t have to stand on her toes to wear them. She put them on and wiggled her toes. They were a little tight. She walked in them and was glad to note the extra room along the square toe-line made it comfortable enough to walk in.

  She went to the mirror above the vanity and checked her reflection. The gown was a little loose in places, but for the most part, it worked just fine. She might be able to pull off this whole “dress up like a woman from the past” thing.

  Her gaze went to her ponytail. She wondered if Julian’s mother had any combs in that trunk. The ponytail looked fine with what she had been wearing before. It really didn’t fit this kind of dress. She supposed she was stuck with the ponytail right now, but at some point, she was going to have to take care of her hair.

  She gasped. Another thought occurred to her, and this one was more pressing than when she could style her hair to fit this time period. Just where was she supposed to go to the bathroom? The bathroom that had once been attached to her bedroom was gone. She couldn’t very well answer nature’s call when she was at the desk in the small room.

  She was going to have to ask Julian about this. As far as she was concerned, this had just become the most important issue she had to address. Once this matter was settled, she could worry about everything else.

  Chapter Ten

  I can’t explain why, but you must stay away from Nightingale Hall. For the sake of our friendship, stay in London even if I never return.

  Julian reread the warning he had written. He was tempted to add more, but it was probably best he keep the missive short. The only thing that mattered was that Francis stayed in London. As long as he did that, the future would be altered so that his dear friend wouldn’t hang.

  He dipped the quill into the inkwell and addressed the missive. He had no way of knowing if Francis would ever receive this, but he had to try.

  He had just sealed the missive when Willow came in through his bedchamber and entered the small room. He tried not to stare at her like a gentleman who’d never seen a lady before. He had members of the fairer sex in this manor, so it wasn’t like he hadn’t been around them for all of these centuries. But they were maids.

  Willow was different. She had inherited the estate in her time. That made her his equal in station. Also, none of the maids in the estate had curves as lovely as Willow did, nor did they have Willow’s natural beauty. She looked much better in a gown than in those strange clothes she’d had on before.

  When he realized she was talking, he forced his gaze off of her breasts and directed his attention to her face. He could only pray she didn’t know what had been going through his mind just now. It wasn’t the slightest bit gentlemanly.

  “The small room off to my bedroom isn’t what it was in my time,” she said. “There’s no toilet or shower in there. I have no idea what toilets are called in this time, and I don’t know where they are in a place this big. At the risk of sounding crude, where do you relieve your bladder around here?”

  It took him a moment to figure out what she was talking about. “Oh, right.” He rose to his feet and picked the missive off the desk. “I’ll summon the maid to bring a chamber pot to your bedchamber.”

  She frowned. “A chamber pot?”

  “That’s what we use in this time.” He figured it was probably similar to a toilet, given the subject of the conversation. “The chamber maid will place it by the bed. When you take care of things, you do it in there, and she’ll empty it out when you’re away from your room. You have nothing to worry about. She’s discreet.”

  “Don’t you have some other way of doing this?”

  “This is the most efficient method we have. You could go to the small building outside, but usually the gardener and stablemaster use that. I recommend the chamber pot. It’s more private, and it’s inside.” He noted the way she shuddered and chuckled. “I don’t know what the inconvenience is. It’s not like you spend all day relieving your bladder. The task is really just a small and insignificant part of the day.”

  “It’s more complicated for me because I’m a woman. I can’t just stand and go anywhere I want.”

  Amused, he said, “I don’t go just anywhere. I’m not an animal.”

  She groaned. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that if you wanted to, you could pick a bush and let it go.”

  “I’ve never done anything of the sort. I’m an earl, not a vagabond. I either use my chamber pot or, if I’m outside, the privy.”

  She didn’t seem completely convinced but nodded as if she intended for him to think he had proven his point.

  Well, he didn’t know what else he could say on this topic, nor was he exactly inclined to discuss this at great length when he had more important things to tend to.

  “I have to send this missive to my cousin,” he said. “After that, I’ll make sure you get a chamber pot, and then we’ll get something to eat. I assume you eat in the future.”

  She blinked in surprise. “Of course, I eat. Everyone needs to eat.”

  “Do you eat at a table while sitting in a chair?”

  “Is there a different way to eat?”

  He couldn’t help but smile at her bewildered tone. “I didn’t think so, but I didn’t think the matter of a chamber pot would shock you as much as it did. It’s nice to know that everything in this time won’t offend you.” He waved for her to join him, and they left the room. “We walk up and down stairs, too.”

  She smirked. “There are some stairs that move in the future. They’re called escalators. But, I will admit, these are in places like airports and malls. You won’t find them in homes, even in ones as fancy as this.”

  Intrigued, he asked, “Really?”

  “Yep. And there are elevators that move you from one floor to another. It goes up and down, and it’s in the shape of a rectangular box.”

  “Are these all run by magic?”

  “No, they move by cables that are similar to rope.”

  That was fascinating. “What other things do you have in the future that isn’t in this time?”

  “Electricity,” she replied as they reached the stairs. “You don’t need to light candles there. You just flip a switch on a wall or turn the knob on a lamp, and the whole room lights up.”

  “Do they work better than candles?”

  “Much better. With candles, you have to light a lot of them to get the whole room lit up, but it only takes one lightbulb to do it.”

  “I wish I could see that.”

  “Unless there’s a portal around here to go to the future, I don’t think that will be possible.”

  The butler approached them as they reached the bottom of the staircase.

  “Is the coachman done checking on the carriage?” Julian asked him. It’d been a long time since he had gone outside to see what was going on around the manor. He couldn’t remember what the coachman did this time of the day.

  “I believe he’s still doing that,” the butler replied.

  The butler glanced at Willow as if he wasn’t sure what to think about having her there without being introduced to her at the front entrance of the house. Julian was sure the butler assumed he had snuck her in here during the middle of the night to engage in all kinds of wanton behavior, but, being a servant, he kept
his thoughts to himself.

  “Do you wish to go with Miss Knudson to London?” the butler asked.

  “No,” Julian replied. “I want the coachman to go to London and deliver this to Mr. Francis Azazel. His address is on the envelope.”

  The butler took the missive. “I’ll take this to him. Is there anything you would have me do before I go?”

  “Yes, tell the maids that they are to get the bedchamber adjoining mine ready for Miss Knudson’s stay here.”

  The butler didn’t seem all that enthusiastic with the idea, but he said he would do as instructed then headed down the hall.

  Willow’s eyebrows furrowed. “Am I imagining it, or does he want me gone?”

  Julian took her by the elbow and led her to the drawing room. “He thinks you’re my lover, and you’ve come here for a secret affair.”

  She gasped.

  He grinned. “I don’t know what they’d think of this in the future, but it does look sordid. You came here out of nowhere, and you have no chaperone.”

  “Why would I need a chaperone? I’m twenty-five, not a child.”

  “In this time, every unmarried lady does well to have a chaperone when she’s in the company of a gentleman who’s not a relative.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Well, besides the whole chamber pot thing.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. It’s just the way things are in this time.”

  “I have a lot to learn,” she said under her breath.

  He supposed he would be saying the same thing if he had crossed into her time. Imagine moving stairs, a switch that brightened rooms without the aid of candles, things called toilets, and ladies wearing breeches as if they were gentlemen.