by Bess McBride
“Phoebe,” his own dear one said on a whisper. He moved closer to her as if to protect her.
“Wow, are you a sight for sore eyes!” Mattie said.
Reggie looked from one woman to the other in confusion. What the deuce was occurring? Was he the only one not to understand? He turned to William.
“Nothing is amiss,” William said quietly. “All is well.”
“Mrs. Sinclair? Mattie?” Phoebe whispered in a voice of confusion. “Are you like me? Did you travel...?”
“Let’s get you inside,” Mattie urged. “It’s cool here in the garden.” She took Phoebe’s hand in her own. “Come on, Reggie. Stay close. She’s going to need you.”
Reggie could do nothing but attempt a reassuring smile as Phoebe threw him a concerned look over her shoulder. William clapped an arm around his shoulder and guided him toward the house.
“You can have no idea what a happy occasion this is for my wife, Reggie. All will be made clear to you very soon.”
They entered the house, and John, the Sinclair’s footman, closed the door behind them.
“Thank you, John. If you could just bring us some tea to the library, that will it for tonight,” Mattie said as she escorted Phoebe toward the library. Reggie did not think he had ever been in the library of Ashton House before, and he surveyed the lovely room, paneled in dark wood with the requisite number of books on shelves lining the walls. A settee of royal blue and matching gilt-edged chairs faced the hearth.
Mattie settled Phoebe onto the settee and seated herself beside Phoebe.
“Would you care for something stronger than tea, Reggie?” William asked.
“Yes, thank you.” He took the glass of port William offered.
“And you, Miss Warner? Tea or something stronger?”
“I think you should stick to tea at the moment, Phoebe,” Mattie counseled. “You’re going to need to keep a clear head for now.”
“Tea,” Phoebe said in a small voice. She stared at Mattie then allowed her gaze to sweep the room to encompass William and himself. Reggie could not begin to fathom what was afoot. Americans seemed such an informal lot. He had always admired Mattie’s lack of ceremony, but had never known the extent of her familiarity until now—perhaps because she had often much been in William’s company.
“Gosh, do you know what this means, William?” Mattie asked as she gazed at Phoebe.
“I can only begin to imagine, my love. But I do believe that Miss Warner and Reggie would appreciate some explanation as well.”
“I’m just waiting for John to come and go, and here he is!”
John entered with a tea service and set it on a mahogany table in front of the settee.
“Thank you, John. See you in the morning,” Mattie said. The footman bowed and left the room, and she poured out several cups of tea. Reggie waited impatiently. That which had begun as a plea for help had evolved into a puzzling mystery to which only Mattie and William now held the answers. He did not like to think what might have happened had he attempted to take Phoebe to his father’s house first, and he thanked his lucky stars—or the moon—that he had chosen to seek Mrs. Mattie Sinclair’s assistance.
“Well, I don’t know where to start,” Mattie said with a broad smile as she studied Phoebe’s bewildered face. “Reggie, you’d probably better take a seat.”
Reggie complied, all eagerness to hear Mattie’s words. She addressed herself first to Phoebe.
“I’m Mattie Crockwell...Mattie Sinclair now, and I’m like you, Phoebe—a time traveler.” Mattie’s eyes swung toward Reggie. “And I guess like you too now, Reggie, if those jeans of yours are anything to go by.”
Reggie cast a startled eye upon her for a moment before turning toward William who nodded.
“It is true.”
“I do not know why I did not previously recognize you as such,” Reggie murmured. “Of course, that explains much.” He eyed Phoebe who remained silent for the moment. He knew her too well to suspect she would hold her tongue for long. He was right.
“And you’re still here?” Phoebe asked Mattie abruptly. William, standing by the fireplace mantle throughout, moved restlessly, and Mattie threw him a bright smile, which served to set him at ease. He seated himself in a chair opposite the settee and swallowed his port.
“Do you mean, am I still here by choice or am I still here because I couldn’t get back?” Mattie asked.
Phoebe bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to come out so rudely. What I meant to ask is...so it’s possible to stay in the past? Or the future? There’s no time limit?”
“I don’t think so.” Mattie looked to William as if for confirmation. “I’m still here. I’ve been here for two years now. But I did end up going back for a month...accidentally.”
“And you, William? Did you travel forward in time? Is it not a wondrous thing?” Reggie asked.
“I have not,” William replied. “Until tonight, I did not know it was possible for one of our time to go forward. I think I must not chance it. I will rely upon the three of you to share your exploits.”
“So, you liked it, Reggie? I can’t imagine the scene. What happened when you traveled? Was it the moon?” Mattie asked.
Reggie’s nod of affirmation echoed that of Phoebe’s.
“We think it’s the moon. Is that what happened for you?” Phoebe asked. “Was it full?”
Mattie nodded, casting a decidedly unfashionable but devoted look of affection in William’s direction. “Yes, we wished on the moon. We think that wishing on the moon for the same thing at the exact same time initiates the time travel.” She looked from Reggie to Phoebe. “How on earth did you travel forward though, Reggie? What was your wish?”
Reggie felt his face redden. “I do not like to say, but it sufficed to send me to New York City in the year 2013. I did not wish for that particular year though or any particular year for that matter.”
“Well, I think you both must have been wishing for the same thing. And you traveled back at the same time. Was that planned? Or an accident?”
Phoebe chuckled, and Reggie delighted in the sound which suggested her fears of being left at the Sinclairs were eased to a degree.
“No, it was definitely an accident. I would have been better prepared if I had known I was going to show up in the late Georgian era, and Reggie would definitely have changed back into his clothes.”
“So, he appeared in his pantaloons and waistcoat?” Mattie smiled broadly, and William joined her response.
“Mrs. Sinclair! Please,” Reggie said faintly.
She laughed. “I hope you know something about the Georgian era, Phoebe, because the customs take some getting used to. Like what you can and cannot say without embarrassing someone. Isn’t that right, Reggie?”
“We must not tease Reggie so in front of his guest, my dear,” William said. Reggie heard his chuckle as he pretended to chide his wife.
“Reggie switches to ‘Miss Warner’ when I say something that shocks him,” Phoebe with a smile. “I’ve read a lot of historical novels—mostly romance, I have to say—so I can guess at some of the customs.”
She turned to William.
“In fact, I work at a publishing house. Sinclair Publishing. What a coincidence, huh?”
Mattie gave William a startled look. “Really? That’s odd.” She seemed about to speak further but pressed her lips together.
“Will you have another, Reggie?” William asked, gesturing to his glass of port.
“Yes, I think I must,” Reggie replied.
“I think it wise that you brought Miss Warner to us, Reggie,” William said as he rose to pour him a drink. “Since my mother is now mistress in your house, given the marriage of our parents, I can safely say that she would not be overly pleased to receive yet another strange woman into her home. She has only just now begun to accept Mattie following the birth of our child, her first granddaughter. It was most difficult for Mattie when she first arrived, and I would not wish to
see Miss Warner undergo the same difficulties. As you are not master in your father’s house, you may not be able to employ the same measures as I did—that is, the right to insist on having my guest treated with civility.”
“William. Don’t be too hard on her,” Mattie protested.
“No, I must speak. I know my mother, and I love her, but she did her best to dissuade Mattie from marrying me, and I do not forgive anyone for that.”
He resumed his seat, and Reggie regarded him with renewed admiration. He had always looked up to the older boy who lived on the neighboring estate, but as William’s junior by several years, he had never felt completely at ease with him. As a red-faced youth, Reggie had sought to emulate him.
“I often forget that we are now stepbrothers. It is not often remarked upon,” Reggie murmured.
“And since you are, I think you can just as easily stay here as at our house,” Mattie said. “We have plenty of room, and I know Phoebe wants you to stay. I heard her say so in the garden.”
“Yes!” Phoebe exclaimed enthusiastically. Reggie’s lips twitched. These modern women seemed to practice little restraint.
“If I am invited to visit awhile with my stepbrother and his wife, then I humbly accept,” Reggie said. “I am most grateful. I shall have to send for clothing as soon as possible in the morning.”
“I shall see to it,” William said. “We must send a note around to your father as early as possible in the morning to assure him of your safety. Your father sent a groom over just this morning to ask after your whereabouts when your horse returned to the stables without you.”
“Sebastian! I am relieved to hear he arrived home safely. I assumed my father would have sent out a search party. Although I left the house in anger, vowing not to return for some time, the arrival of Sebastian, riderless, would have elicited concern.”
“Did you have an argument with your father?” Mattie asked.
“It was nothing. I related that I wished to remove to America for some time—as did your sister, William, and Stephen and Louisa Carver. He was adamantly opposed to it, fearing I meant never to return.”
“Yes, I can see his concern,” William said. “You are heir to the estate.”
“So, let me guess. You left the house, rode out on your horse, wished on the moon to be in the States, and there you were, right?” Mattie exclaimed.
“Succinctly, yes, that is what occurred.”
“Hah! That’s it! And I don’t have to ask what you were wishing for, Phoebe. It’s kind of written all over your face.”
Reggie watched as Phoebe looked first to him with brightened cheeks, then covered her face with her hands, allowing only her eyes to remain visible.
Mattie laughed and patted Phoebe’s knee. “It’s okay, Phoebe. Same thing happened to me. I loved my romance novels, and look where I am now! Right in the middle of one.”
Reggie looked to William for his reaction, but he only smiled fondly at his ebullient wife. Reggie thought he understood the smile and the sentiment behind it as he himself felt the same affection for Phoebe, now dropping her hands and glancing sideways at him. His own dear Phoebe.
“So, what are your plans, Phoebe?” Mattie asked. “Are you thinking about staying? You can stay here with us as long as you want, of course. No need to worry about anything. I’ll loan you some clothing in the morning.”
“I don’t know,” Phoebe said with a guarded glance in Reggie’s direction. “I have no idea. I have a lot of questions as you can imagine.”
Mattie nodded. “Yes, I can imagine. I did, too. We’ll tackle them in the morning. You guys look worn out. Let’s get you to bed.” She rose and addressed herself to both Phoebe and Reggie. “Remember though! No wishing on the moon. No wishing. No moon. Don’t even look at it. Unless you plan to go back right away.” She smiled. “And I hope you’ll at least visit for a while. I’d love to hear what’s going on in the States.”
“No wishing,” Phoebe echoed.
“It shall be as Phoebe wishes,” Reggie said with a smile.
Phoebe turned to him with a roll of her eyes and a wry smile. “Very funny,” she said.
Reggie inclined his head and followed the party out of the library and up the stairs.
William escorted him to one bedroom, and Mattie took Phoebe to another.
“I hope you will be comfortable here,” William said, surveying the well-appointed room, the furnishings comfortable and in good taste. “I will send word to your father as soon as possible in the morning. We must prepare for a visit from him though, and the inevitable questions about your disappearance. What will you say?”
Reggie shook his head. “I had not thought of that.” He mused for a moment. “I suppose I could say that I was struck on the head and, rendered unconscious, was found by a tenant and nursed to health until I regained my senses.”
“He will wonder why you have chosen to stay here. Mattie may believe there will be no questions regarding your stay given our new family connection, but I think your father and my mother will have doubts. Your father may even suppose you to still be angry with him.”
“I cannot deny that I am still displeased with him. He vowed to cut me off if I emigrated to America. Though I made clear that emigration was not the object of my desired travels, but only an extended visit, he did not appreciate the difference. I was forced to remind him that I have my own income from my mother’s inheritance.”
“I am sorry to hear that he has issued such threats. He must be frightened of never seeing you again.”
Reggie shrugged. “Perhaps. And perhaps I was too hasty with my anger.”
“I do not think he can disinherit you in any event as the estate is entailed to the firstborn son.”
Reggie shook his head. “No, he cannot, but if he feels the better for saying it, then I suppose I must allow it. Did you never wish to go to America, William? Or for that matter, attempt to travel to Mattie’s time...to the future?”
William nodded. “Yes, I did contemplate it when I could not foresee a future here with Mattie, when I thought she would not stay. Although she was returned to her own time for a month, quite by accident, and I desperately wished to join her there, I could not leave my family or the estate. As you may imagine, once my mother married your father, and my sister married Thomas Ringwood, I might have been free to travel forward in time, but by then, Mattie had returned to me, and we were expecting a child. Now that we have a child, the question is unthinkable. We cannot be separated from each other—not I from my wife or child, and not my wife from her child or me.”
“I feel much as you do, William. I cannot bear to lose Phoebe.”
“So, it is as Mattie suspected. You have developed a fondness for Miss Warner.”
“I am completely enamored of her,” Reggie said with a smile.
“Do you intend to make her an offer?”
Reggie nodded. “Yes. I would need to purchase a home as I would not with to reside with my father, but yes, I do intend to make her an offer. As to whether she will accept, I cannot say. Her immigration involves not only life in a new country, but a journey of nearly two hundred years. It is much to ask.”
William nodded. “Yes, it is. I do not envy you the uncertainty of your situation, Reggie. You may rely upon me to assist you in any way that I can.”
“Thank you, William. Of course, there is always the chance that she will have me, but upon her terms—in her time and in her country. I do not worry about the estate as you must have done. Father lives, and Samuel could assume the inheritance in my permanent absence. There is no one to care for—no sister, no mother. Lady Hamilton, your mother, would have no concerns. It is possible that I could seek to return to the future with Phoebe, and if so, I would entrust the management of my mother’s inheritance to you.”
“Is that your desire?”
Reggie shook his head. “I do not know. It is wonderful in the future—comfortable, even luxurious, but one must have money or seek employment. I would
prefer to have my own income and debate the possibility of employment if I should so desire.” He looked around the bedroom, not really seeing it. “But this is my home, and I would miss England terribly.”
Reggie gave a short laugh and continued. “I have not yet asked Phoebe for her hand, therefore, I do not know if my musings are just that, and not simply a means of torturing myself.”
“I hope she will consent. When will you ask?”
“In the near future, I think, but I must give her time to adjust to her present circumstances.”
Chapter Ten
Phoebe looked over her shoulder to see Reggie follow William into a room down the hallway. Reggie caught her eye and nodded with a reassuring smile. And Phoebe was reassured.
She followed Mattie into a large bedroom that looked remarkably like one of those photographs she’d seen on historical architecture. Mattie used her candle to light several candelabras in the room.
“This was the bedroom I first stayed in when I got here, so I thought I’d bring you to this one.” Mattie grinned and opened her arms expansively as if to display the bedroom. “So, what do you think? Feels like a fairytale, huh?” She laughed, surveying the room as if with fresh eyes.
A high-ceilinged room, the walls were painted pale green. Dark green velvet drapes covered the windows. The coverlet of the velvet-curtained, four-poster bed was white, mirroring a lighter color found in the rose and moss green Oriental carpet. A green velvet settee and several chairs flanked the fireplace.
“It’s stunning,” Phoebe breathed.
“I can’t tell you how frightened I was when I got here, but you seem to be handling it pretty well.”
“Am I?” Phoebe mused. “Maybe because I came with Reggie. You must have felt very alone.”
Mattie shrugged and led Phoebe to the settee. “Sometimes, but only when William wasn’t there. I fell in love with him the moment I met him. It sounds hokey, I know, but I felt like I already knew him when I met him. It’s a long story.”
