by Kristy Tate
“Things change.” Jason held out his hand to her.
Reluctantly, Celia closed the wardrobe door and followed Jason to the window. He slid through first, before turning to help her. She didn’t linger in his arms.
“Come on,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, leading her out of the alley and back to the street where the stallion stood stamping his hooves.
Celia cast another worried glance at the gathering storm clouds. Throughout the village, she heard the sound of slamming windows, bracing against the oncoming storm.
At the end of the street, a man in a swirling black cape stood, watching them as they climbed on the horse and rode away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
As days passed, Celia found herself enjoying the quiet rhythm of Regency life. She helped sew costume gowns for Penelope and Mary in the mornings, and took riding lessons in the afternoon from Jason. She filled every spare moment she could find sketching the dresses and hats she saw and admired.
Finally, the day of the ball arrived. Celia stood in the ballroom with Mary and Penelope watching the staff fill cut crystal vases with flowers grown in the conservatory and green house. The room smelled of vanilla and rosemary. In the corner, a quartet of violinists tuned their instruments.
“It will be the ball of the season!” Mary squeezed Celia’s hand. “Thanks to both of you.” She took Penelope’s hand, too.
“No,” Celia said. “This is all you. The music, the food, everything…”
“Not everything,” Mary insisted. “You practically made our gowns!”
Celia flushed. “I just added lace, and stuff.”
“Well,” Penelope said, “I think you made our stuff look splendid!”
“Is it time to get dressed?” Mary asked.
“I think so!” Penelope said.
Celia followed Mary and Penelope up the stairs. Her enthusiasm for the ball couldn’t match her friends. Even though she loved the dresses she had made, and she couldn’t wait to see Mary and Penelope in them, an ache colored all of her potential happiness. She wanted to enjoy each moment as Jason had said, but she still missed her old life and longed to go home. Her concern for the shop didn’t nag at her as it had at first, but she really wanted to see her mom, her grandmother, even Joel. She wanted reassurance that everything would be okay. But she knew she couldn’t know that as long as she was here and they were there.
#
When Jason took her hand and led her to the dance floor, she wanted to sink against him and let him carry her. She didn’t know the complicated steps, and she kept stepping on her skirt.
“Sister,” Jason said, teasing in his voice, “you must try to keep up.”
“How do you know how to do this?” Celia asked through clenched teeth.
“Watch and learn,” Jason muttered.
“Did you have dance lessons as a kid?”
“No.” Jason grinned. “And neither did you, obviously.”
Celia made a low guttural sound in the back of her throat.
Montgomery tapped on Jason’s shoulder. “May I have the pleasure?” he asked.
Jason stepped away with a small bow as Montgomery captured Celia’s hand.
“She is watching us.” Celia nodded at Penelope across the room. She danced with a man with giant buckles on his shoes who reminded Celia of a leprechaun.
“Aye, I think she’s taking special note of your brother.” Montgomery looked almost as glum as his words sounded.
Celia watched two men approach Jason. After a short discussion, he left with them. “Who are those men? And why did Jason leave with them?”
“They are, I’m sure, looking for a fourth for their game of whist.”
“Whist?”
“Cards.” Montgomery laughed. “You should not worry. I trust your brother must know more about the game than you, or else he wouldn’t have agreed to play.”
Celia wanted to laugh, too, but something nagged at her. The two men with Jason—they looked familiar. Her mind went back to her first visit to England when she met Percy and thought he was Jason. There had been three men with Percy. She tried to remember their faces, but couldn’t. It had been dark and shadowy. A chill passed over her.
“Will you excuse me?” Celia asked Montgomery.
Feeling faint, she touched her temple. Something in her gut worried her. She tried to remember where Jason and the men went, but when she got to the landing, she got turned around. There were so many doors.
“You!” An enormous woman pounded across the great hall. The floor shook with each heavy footstep.
Celia froze. The woman looked exactly as she had that very first night, except now her face was scarlet with anger. She pointed a sausage finger at Celia. “What have you done with my emeralds?”
Celia didn’t know what to do, so she picked up her skirts and ran. All the way down the stairs, across the foyer, out the door, down the hundreds of shallow stone steps she called herself a coward. Even while mentally berating herself for running from confrontation, she didn’t slow until she reached the stables. Panting, she leaned against the building and let her racing heart slow.
Thick, angry clouds covered the moon and stars. Distant thunder rolled. Soon, there would be rain. After taking several deep breaths, Celia took in her surroundings and realized she wasn’t alone. Angry voices came from the other side of the barn.
Celia stepped closer to hear.
“Where are they, you lying, thieving knave?”
“I don’t know anything about emeralds,” Jason said.
The sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh made Celia gasp. She ran, feeling sick to her stomach. She got to the edge of the barn in time to see a man deliver another punch to Jason’s belly.
A man on each side of Jason held his arms, while a big bearded man rubbed his red fist. “Let me ask you again, where are the jewels?”
“Leave him alone! He doesn’t have them!” Celia’s legs trembled as she stepped into the clearing. “I do.”
The man with a beard turned to stare at Celia.
She met his gaze without flinching. “Let him go, and I’ll get them for you.”
The bearded man reached behind his back and pulled out a knife with a ten inch blade. It gleamed in the moonlight as he approached. “Why don’t you get them, and then I’ll let him go.”
Celia nodded. Wind tugged her dress and pulled her hair loose from her pins “Just don’t hurt him,” she said, right before she faded away.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It took Celia a moment to realize where she was and what had happened. She stared at the familiar ceiling with a thumping heart, surprised to find herself on her bed in Becca’s house. Was it really that easy? Why didn’t she go home all those other times? Why now? Then she remembered Jason. She couldn’t leave him there. With adrenaline tingling all of her nerves, she bounced up, rifled through her underwear drawer until she found the emeralds, tucked them in her bodice, and dashed down the stairs.
She came face to face with Becca in the kitchen. “Where are you going?” Becca asked.
“I can’t tell you.” Celia tried to step around her, but Becca blocked her path.
“Why not?”
Celia put her hands on Becca’s shoulders and moved her out of the way. “Because you wouldn’t believe me,” she said over her shoulder.
Becca grabbed her purse and sweater off the counter. “Then take me with you.”
Celia banged out the door and tried to close it behind her, but Becca followed.
“I don’t even know if I can get back,” Celia said as she climbed into her car.
Becca got into the passenger side. “Get back where? And why are you dressed like that?”
Celia put the car in gear and backed down the driveway.
“Where are we going?” Becca asked.
“First—the Witching Well.”
“The Witching Well? You don’t really believe in that do you?”
Celia took a deep breath and to
ld her story. At a red light, she pulled the emeralds out of her dress and showed them to Becca. They glistened in the moonlight. “I have to give them back or else they’ll hurt Jason.” Her voice quivered. “They may even kill him.”
Becca didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Where do you think Jason is now?”
“I told you, he’s at the Montgomery Mansion.”
“Near Merlin’s Cave?” Becca finished for her.
“Yes!” When the light turned green, Celia gunned the engine. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
Becca opened her mouth, but no words came out for a long time. “I believe that you believe your story.”
“Just what does that mean?”
“It means that you’ve been working really hard for a really long time—”
“Oh my gosh! You think I’ve lost it!”
“I didn’t say that. I just think—”
“Okay! Come with me, then.”
“What? Drink the water from the Witching Well?” Becca tried to laugh, but it sounded off. “No. I have a better idea. Let’s go to Jason’s apartment. We’ll probably find him asleep in his bed.”
Celia shook her head and pressed the gas pedal to the floor. “I don’t have time for that. I have to get back before they hurt him…again. This is all my fault.”
Becca placed one hand on the dashboard and grabbed the car door handle with the other. Her eyes were wide in her pale face. “How is this your fault?”
“I shouldn’t have ever taken the emeralds. They weren’t mine. I can’t believe that I actually thought I could use them to buy the shop.”
Becca nodded. “I think we’re coming to a breakthrough here.”
“A breakthrough?”
“Tell me, sweetie, where did the emeralds really come from?”
“I told you where I got them!” Celia felt as if everything inside of her was about to explode.
“And you’re willing to give them away to save Jason?”
“Of course.”
“Do you remember that just about an hour ago, you were cursing Jason?”
“Is that all it’s been, an hour? What day is it? What happened at the barn?”
But Becca wasn’t interested in answering Celia’s questions. “An hour ago you hated Jason West. I think if someone told you of an opportunity to leave him for dead in Elizabethan—”
“Regency,” Celia corrected her.
“Regency England, you would have jumped at it. And now—you’re risking both of our lives to save him. What does this mean to you?”
Celia bit her lip. “It means I’m a better person now than I was an hour ago.”
Becca shook her head. “I think you’ve been that better person all along.” She held her breath while Celia passed a slow moving truck. “I also think that you’ve been watching too many action films with car chase scenes.”
“Do you have your phone?” Celia asked.
Becca nodded. “Why?”
“I want you to look up something for me.” She told Becca about Jason’s ancestors. “I want to know if I’m in anyway related to Percy and Honoria West.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Go to family search, or my family tree…I don’t know, but I bet there’s a thousand genealogy sites!” Celia heard her own panic.
“Okay, calm down…and maybe slow down.”
Celia shook her head. “I have to hurry. They might kill him.”
“Sweetie,” Becca put her hand on Celia’s arm.
Celia shook her off. “I know you think I’m crazy! But will you just do it?”
“I will, if you’ll slow down. Take a deep breath.”
Celia wanted to scream, but she bit back all her frustration and eased off the gas.
“Oh, look!” Becca said after a moment. “According to this, you really are related to Honoria and Percy West! You and Jason must be cousins or something.”
“It shouldn’t matter, right? It was so long ago.”
Becca sent her an are-you-crazy look. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of having Jason West’s babies!”
Celia flushed. “Just tell me about Percy and Honoria.”
“Well, they lived to be very old.”
“That’s good! Did they have any children?” Celia wanted to cheer hooray, but after one look at Becca’s somber face, she kept her emotions in check.
“Just one.”
“All they need is one.”
“But look! That one, Zacharias West, had ten children.” Becca wiggled her eyebrows. “It looks like the West men are veril.” Becca’s tone turned serious. “I don’t know how you knew about Percy and Henrietta.”
“Honoria,” Celia corrected her.
“But—none of that matters. You don’t need to risk our lives by speeding. You don’t need to drink unfiltered water. You don’t—”
“Come with me,” Celia interrupted her.
“What? Drink the drugged water?” Becca asked. “No, thank you.”
“How about this? Call Jason, and if he doesn’t answer, you’ll come with me.”
Becca frowned out the window.
“Okay, call Gabe, and if he doesn’t know where Jason is, then will you come?”
Becca looked down at her clothes with a smirk. “How can I go to England wearing this?”
“There’s a bunch of dresses right there.” Celia throw a glance over her shoulder. “Go ahead, put one on.”
“This is crazy talk.”
“I could use your help.”
“That is the first sane thing you’ve said today.”
“So, put on a dress.”
Becca chose a baby blue prom dress.
Celia threw the car into park beside Jason’s Porsche. She didn’t see her grandmother. The truck was parked beside the barn. Light shone through the windows and out the wide open door. Voices came from inside.
“Come on.” Celia took Becca’s hand. “We have to hurry.”
Becca opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again and hurried after Celia, clearly humoring her.
Early evening—the gloaming, her grandmother called it, when the sun faded but the moon had yet to rise. A poem her grandmother used to recite sprang to her mind.
In the gloaming, oh, my darling!
When the lights are dim and low,
And the quiet shadows falling,
Softly come and softly go;
For my heart was crush'd with longing,
What had been could never be;
It was best to leave you thus, dear,
Best for you, and best for me.
Celia stumbled as she ran, her breath caught in her chest. She couldn’t leave Jason. But what if she didn’t make it back? What if Jason stayed there while she stayed here? How could she live with herself? She pushed herself faster and harder until she climbed the hill and saw the well.
“There it is,” she breathed the words.
“There what is?” Becca asked as she gulped for air.
“The Witching Well.” Celia lurched toward it.
“Wait.” Becca grabbed Celia’s hand, but Celia shook her off. “Celia! Stop!”
Celia dropped to her knees at the well’s edge, scooped up a handful of water and drank.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As if she had never left, Celia reappeared in the dark clearing just as lightning streaked across the night sky. The captors holding Jason were so surprised at her sudden return, they dropped Jason’s arms. Thunder boomed.
Jason staggered toward Celia and she caught him. She nearly buckled beneath his weight, but she held him upright.
“Did you see how I just disappeared and reappeared?” Celia asked in a voice she hoped didn’t sound too quivery. Using one arm to hold up Jason, she lifted the other to the sky, as if she could control the elements.
Lightning flashed on cue.
“I can do that at any time and anywhere. If you ever again try to hurt Jason, I’ll show up, behind you, armed, and when you fall
over dead, your last thought will be that you should have listened to me now.”
Thunder accentuated her words.
As the men turned to run, Celia heard one of them ask, “Who’s Jason?”
No one asked about the emeralds.
Celia wrapped her arm around Jason’s waist and held him up. “Are you okay?” Which just seemed like such a stupid question. She could see he wasn’t okay.
“Yeah,” he lied.
“What should we do now?” Celia asked. “We can’t go back into the ball until we’ve cleaned up your face.”
Jason nodded. “Take me to Old Lady West’s.”
“Do you think she’ll help you?”
Jason nodded.
As they limped along in the pouring rain, Celia told Jason what Becca had learned. “So you see, we are related—although very distantly—after all. You’re related to Percy and I’m related to Honoria. So it all makes sense.”
“No, it doesn’t make sense at all,” Jason said. “Where did you disappear to?”
“To get the emeralds, of course.” Mud clung to Celia’s slippers and the hem of her gown. Both would be ruined. But at that moment, all she cared about was getting somewhere safe.
“You went to the twenty-first century?”
She nodded.
“And you came back for me?”
She didn’t reply.
“You must like me.” Grinning, he bumped her with his hip.
“I do like you,” Celia said, returning his hip bump. “But I would have come back even if I didn’t. I couldn’t just leave you here.”
His grin widened.
“What?” she asked, fighting her own smile.
“You really like me.”
“Is this really what we want to talk about right now?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you want to talk about how I was able to return to the twenty-first century and how you did it, too, and how we should do that together?”
“Yeah. I guess so. But first let’s talk about the emeralds.”
She flushed and brushed her soaked curls off her face. “I don’t want to talk about the emeralds. I don’t care about the emeralds! I just want to go home.”
