by Gloria Gay
“Yes. I know that very well,” Jestyn said, “that’s why I’m very concerned for your safety. And even though I’ll hate to see you go and had a horrible feeling when I thought that if you touched the pendant you might just disappear, I will at least have the assurance that you will be safe in your own time. You run a lot of risks here. I’m certain an acquaintance of ours, Lady Millthorpe is behind a lot of this talk. Lord Halensford assured me of it. And she sent word that she’s coming for a visit.”
“Who is this Lady Millthorpe?”
“I’m afraid Wilma Millthorpe has pursued me even through her marriage, Jane. She tired of waiting for me to propose, even arranging a compromising situation in order to trap me that did not work and when I became engaged she was so enraged she accepted Lord Millthorpe, even though she had assured me she would never accept his offer. Then I lost my fiancé.”
“I shall just have to suffer through her questioning. I’m certain there’ll be a lot of that.”
“Questioning a stranger is rude but I wouldn’t put it past her for a second,” said Jestyn.”
Just then Beacon, Jestyn’s butler, appeared at the door of the drawing-room. “Are you in for Lord and Lady Millthorpe, Mr. Greywick? They are waiting in the hall.”
“Talk about the devil–” Jestyn said so that only Jane heard him. “All right, Beacon, show them in and order tea for us, will you? Aunt Florinda, please partake of tea with us, dear.”
Aunt Florinda moved closer to Jestyn and Jane in the sofa.
Beacon was soon back, followed by Lord and Lady Millthorpe.
“Dear, dear Jestyn,” Lady Millthorpe said, rushing over to Jestyn and ignoring Jane.
Jestyn placed his arm as a shield so that Lady Millthorpe had to stop in her tracks. “You naughty man,” she said, “Keeping from us that you had a houseguest. We had to hear it from your neighbors.”
“Allow me to introduce our guest, Miss Jane Fielder,” said Jestyn. “Miss Fielder, Lord and Lady Millthorpe.”
“My, but you seem so–uh, how shall I say it?” Lady Millthorpe said, staring rudely at Jane. “So of the Colonies–not English at all. I’ve heard at least four different versions of your appearance, Miss Fielder. How are you coping?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Jane said, turning away from Lady Millthorpe as she busied herself with her teacup and scone. She didn’t want any of her words to encourage any meddling in her life from Wilma Millthorpe.
Lady Millthorpe had a face in which her features were all competing for space. Her eyes, nose and mouth were all large and though they were regular and attractive, their oversize diminished their beauty.
“A cup of tea, Lady Millthorpe?” Aunt Florinda asked. Jane was grateful for Aunt Florinda and she stole glances at Lady Millthorpe as both she and Lord Millthorpe were supplied with cups of tea and pastries which she passed on to Jestyn to pass on to them.
Lady Millthorpe took the cup Jestyn handed to her, making sure her hand brushed his as she took the cup. She thanked him profusely and turned again to Jane.
Jane knew she was intent on questioning her and just as intent was Jane in parrying all her queries.
“I’m immensely curious about the place you hail from, Miss Fielder,” she said after taking a sip from her tea. “Do tell us more about it–New Amsterdam, was it?”
“New York.”
“Really, Wilma,” Her husband cut in, “The name change has been in effect for more than a century. I’ve told you so repeatedly.”
Jane was certain Wilma Millthorpe knew the name well and had said the wrong name in order to get a reaction from Jane.
“Do direct your talk at Jestyn, dear,” she said to her husband, “and allow me a few minutes with Miss Fielder. I’m most curious about her life before she landed on our shores.”
When Jane said nothing, Wilma, after placing her tea cup on a nearby table, turned again to her.
“Tell me about this place, New York, Miss Fielder. I’m curious to the extreme.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not very good at description,” Jane said flatly.
“Surely you have friends there? Family?”
“Of course.”
“And how have they allowed you to travel by yourself to our shores? Did your family not object?”
“Does your family object when you travel, my lady?” Jane was adept at answering a question with a question of her own.
For a while they spoke thus. Wilma tried to question Jane and Jane evaded each and every one of Wilma’s questions with a question of her own. Wilma sighed in exasperation. She appeared flustered that she was making no headway in her questioning. What she didn’t know was that Jane was a seasoned reporter and good at tricking her subjects into replying to her questions, instead. And Jane had determined that Wilma would find out nothing from her.
Jane noticed Wilma’s frustration and forced herself not to smile.
“Surely people in New York are not so very different from us in England, Miss Fielder,” Lady Millthorpe said, her large green eyes, like peeled grapes staring intently at Jane. “Yet you seem so – so utterly foreign.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Jane said, “But, since I will remain here for only a very short time, I’m glad you will only have to put up with my – uh – foreignness during its short duration.”
“It just seems something you couldn’t change, even if you tried hard,” Wilma said, her eyes like an inquisitor’s probing Jane’s face.
“There you are correct, Lady Millthorpe,” Jane replied. “I haven’t the least wish to appear less foreign than I am. In fact, I’m proud to be an American.” She glanced at Jestyn, who was with his eyes telling her not to continue on that track.
“You’re a mystery I intend to solve, Miss Fielder; I give you fair warning,” Wilma’s voice had risen a notch.
“Really, my dear,” said her husband, “this questioning is beyond rude. Miss Fielder cannot be made comfortable by it.”
“Are you made uncomfortable by my questions, Miss Fielder?” Wilma asked, obviously hoping for a reaction from Jane.
“Not in the least, Lady Millthorpe. I appreciate your concern, my lord,” Jane said, turning to Lord Millthorpe, “but there really is no reason to be upset over it. I will remain in England only until I am able to move about, enough to board a ship back to the States.”
“What a quaint way you have of calling the Colonies ‘the states,’ Miss Fielder,” Wilma said.
“We did win a war against England, my lady,” Jane said sweetly. “That victory gave us the right to call our country anything we please.”
“Wilma, do behave,” said her husband. “You are, after all, a guest in this house. And speaking of such,” he added rising, “I believe we have overstayed our visit. Come along, my dear.”
For a moment Lady Millthorpe appeared as if she would challenge her husband but then the clock in the hall struck the hour, reminding her that to go past the established time for a visit would be a breach.
“That woman makes me seethe,” Jane said when she heard the front door close behind them.
“She makes me seethe, too,” Jestyn agreed.
“Now, where were we before we were interrupted,” Jane asked.
“We were on a very unpleasant subject,” he whispered to her ear once Aunt Florinda had moved away from them and gone to take up her stitching closer to the door.
“The danger you are in the longer you stay here,” Jestyn said to her. “I believe we should increase our efforts to find a way out for you. I agree that your pendant holds the key to the mystery.” Just then Beacon walked back into the drawing room.
“A message for you, sir,” he said, “From Mr. Kelliton Cannidge.”
“Thank you, Beacon,” Jestyn said, taking the letter from him.
When Beacon had left Jestyn quickly tore open the letter and scanned its contents.
“Cannidge has agreed to a meeting with us this afternoon, Jane. His note is extremely cordial
,” Jestyn added, handing the note to Jane.
“That makes it easier for us, Jestyn,” Jane said, eagerly reading the note. “He says he is free between two and five in the afternoon. At what time should we visit?”
“I have a shipment for the home farm I must attend to at one, but I should be free by one thirty. Is that a good hour for you?”
“Fine with me.”
Jestyn brought out the journals and for an hour they perused them in silence, each concentrating in one of the journals.
Jestyn rubbed his eyes wearily and turned to Jane. “Maybe we should get lunch out of the way before our meeting with Cannidge. Are you hungry?”
“Famished,” Jane replied as Jestyn helped her from her seat, for she still had trouble getting in and out of chairs, although not as much as before.
“You’re improving by the minute.”
“It’s easier now to get out of chairs. You noticed, Jes.”
Jestyn sighed. “I’m of two minds on it. I know in how much danger you are here and any improvement in your health means you are able to move about more so that we may find the way out for you. On the other hand, I cannot help but mourn what your absence would mean to me.”
He went and got her crutches while Aunt Florinda went to pull the bell cord. And just as Jestyn helped Jane up from her seat and pulled her into her arms, his arms tightened around her. She leaned against him and when he pressed her close to his chest she felt his arousal. Her skin sizzled and she was suddenly light-headed. Breathless from their encounter and surprised at the intensity of their touch, Jestyn stayed as close as he could to Jane as he managed the crutches toward the small dining room, which was close by.
Aunt Florinda was already there and she helped Jestyn to settle Jane in a chair.
Their light lunch of baked codfish, creamed potatoes and salad was pleasant and leisurely and they chatted with Aunt Florinda as she spoke in her sweet way and expressed her wish that Lady Millthorpe would not call again too soon.
Jane was quiet as Aunt Florinda and Jestyn chatted. Jane’s mind was on their heated encounter and she realized that it had surely changed their feelings toward each other. They lingered over a glass of port and Jestyn’s eyes on her burned her skin as they tried to talk of light subjects. Then Jestyn went to tend to business while Nelly helped Jane to her room and then into the walking frock she was to wear for their visit to the artist’s house.
***
“I have been meaning to ask you about the clothes you and Cedric were wearing when the portraits were made,” Jane said as Jestyn maneuvered the carriage out of the yard on their way to the village. “They seemed a little more old-fashioned than what you are wearing now. How long ago were they made?
“They were made when Cedric and I were in our twenties,’ added Jestyn. “That’s probably why they seemed different from what we wear now,” said Jestyn, as he led the bays down the lane toward the village.
“Do you still have them–the clothes, I mean?” Jane asked.
“If I still do they would be up in the attic. They were in fashion about seven or eight years ago and probably tight around the shoulders now.”
“And they would not have been given away? You’re certain they would still be in the attic?”
“I think they might,” Jestyn answered. “We don’t like to part with things,” he said wryly. “That’s why attics exist–to delay making the decision.”
“Do you think I could see yours? I would really like to see it again, Jestyn. Maybe we can find a clue in it, some sign that you held the pendant in your hand, however slim.”
“Let’s look for it, then.” Jestyn said eagerly. “There are trunks and wardrobes there holding clothes of centuries past but since I’m familiar with those clothes I’m sure I would find them easily enough. Would you also like to see the other costumes?”
“I would love that!”
“After we visit with Mr. Cannidge, then.”
“I’m so looking forward to our visit with him,” Jane said eagerly. “He might be able to tell us more about my pendant.”
“I have faith in that too, Jane, but don’t allow your hopes to soar too high. We don’t know that he will disclose what he knows to us, even if he knows about the pendant. If he doesn’t want to part with the information we must find a way to convince him to do so.”
“I hope he’s an amiable man. He sounds all right in his note and eager to meet with us.”
After a few minutes they reached the village and went down its main street. Only a couple of carts and a carriage with its driver were on the street.
“I think Lentricks Street is beyond the fountain,” Jestyn said. “I remember having visited Cannidge a couple of times with father before he contracted him to do our portrait.
CHAPTER 11
They turned into the street and very soon they were going down the short gravel path to a stone cottage that looked like it had been there since the Norman invasion. Jestyn parked the carriage in front of the modest gated garden which was just a few feet wide. The gate had been pushed back and Jestyn and Jane went up to the faded front door and Jestyn used the knocker.
The door was opened by the artist himself, who smiled broadly and greeted them warmly. Then he led them into a neat parlor and showed them to a stiff brown sofa. Both Jestyn and Jane took note that his eyes had immediately alighted on Jane’s pendant and that there was a startled look in his eyes as he stole glances at it.
The tea tray was brought in by a middle-aged woman with her hair in a disheveled knot at the top of her head.
“Thank you, Mrs. Drapey. That will be all,” Cannidge said. He appeared eager to have the woman out of the room as quickly as possible. She had hit the sofa with her knee and almost toppled the tea tray. Her grey clothes under her apron had an unkempt look to them. She looked more like a char woman than a house servant.
Once Mrs. Drapey had closed the door behind her Cannidge told them his aunt, Mrs. Radsing, was also his housekeeper and was busy tending to her niece, who was in labor. “Mrs. Drapey is helping with the household chores today, in my aunt’s place.”
Once Cannidge had poured their tea and settled back with his own cup, He addressed them.
“And how can I be of help, Mr. Greywick? I understand from your note that it has to do with the two portraits I painted of you and your brother?”
“Actually the three portraits.” Jestyn corrected him.
“Ah – you found the other one?”
“We did, yes,” Jestyn said, putting his cup on a side table and leaning forward.
“Mr. Cannidge, I’ll get right down to our reason for meeting with you. It’s extremely important to us that you relate the reasons for painting in a pendant that seems to be an exact copy of the one Miss Fielder is wearing.”
“Where did you get that pendant, Miss Fielder?” asked Cannidge.
“We cannot disclose that information unless we are certain it will not be repeated, Mr. Cannidge,” Jestyn cut in before Jane had a chance to answer the question.
“She doesn’t have to answer it, Mr. Greywick,” Cannidge said with a long sigh. I know she is not of our time. I have heard rumors about Miss Fielder,” he added. “Actually, had you not contacted me, I had every intention of calling on you to advise you about the gossip about Miss Fielder that has come to my notice.
“You must, Mr. Greywick,” he added, turning to Jerstyn, “remove Miss Fielder from the community so that the gossip will go down.”
“I understand Lady Millthorpe is behind a lot of the talk,” Jestyn said.
“She gossips about you constantly, Miss Fielder,” Cannidge agreed. “What her agenda is, I fail to see, but she has become your enemy. And, as she’s very wealthy, she’s able to pay a few people from other villages to stir up people around here. ”
“We want nothing more than to return Miss Fielder to her time, Mr. Cannidge,” Jestyn assured him, “but we need your help. We feel you may hold the key to it, because the key to it we are
certain is the pendant, since that is how Miss Fielder came back in time.”
Cannidge rang the bell.
“Mrs. Drapey,” he said, “I’m going below stairs with my guests. Please let my aunt know where we are when she returns from her sister’s. She’s coming back here to get some clothes.”
He scribbled a note on foolscap he had retrieved from a desk nearby. “And give her this note,” he added, handing Mrs. Drapey the note.
“Very well, Mr. Cannidge,” the woman responded with a tooth-gapped smile as she took the note.
“Come with me,” Cannidge said, rising, and added when Mrs. Drapey had left. “I always let my aunt know when I’m going downstairs, just in case there should be a problem down there. She would know to call for help. But my aunt is away from the house and I must rely on Mrs. Drapey to tell her, as you saw.”
“I’m glad you told her,” said Jane. Yet she didn’t relish going down into the musty gloom of that underworld with only Mrs. Drapey, who did not look too bright, aware of where they would be.
Cannidge lit tapers on candle holders and handed one to Jestyn and one to Jane. Then taking up his candle rack he led them to the narrow stairs of a cellar. And although the stone stairs were narrow it was an incredibly long trip down. It smelled musty and dusty at once. Jane felt a shiver as she glanced at the ancient stones on the walls by the narrow stairs as they walked silently down the stone stairs for about fifteen or twenty minutes.
They finally reached a small square room. Cannidge walked a few steps across it and placed the candle rack on a small table.
“This cellar was once part of Cabling Castle, which went back to William the Conqueror and was destroyed by the forces opposing the invasion. I inherited it from my father. “The small house above it has been in my family for more than a century. But the cellar below it was filled with dirt, which one of my ancestors arranged to have removed. But it remained a secret in my family for decades. My family was very secretive and devoted to their Druid history. I, myself, continued to dig out the dirt, little by little, and painstakingly, I assure you, until the labyrinth was revealed. I continued digging because from the scrolls I had I knew there was more to be revealed.
