Time Weaver

by Jacinta Maree

  “I did say you were safe,” Klaus stated.

  “He means he was worried about me, Klaus. Not his own safety,” Elizabeth quickly corrected. “And thank you, Harry, but I am quite alright. May I please wash up? It’s been a long night.”

  “Yes, yes of course, Miss Elizabeth. Come in.” Harry sidestepped to allow her passage. Klaus didn’t follow her in, but quickly reached out to hold Harry back.

  “Mr. Smith.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “It is imperative that Elizabeth remain here until my return. I won’t be long. I need to collect some of my belongings back at the Wicker estate.”

  Harry quickly nodded. “I understand, but there is something I need to say first.” Using his most dominating voice, Harry pulled Klaus closer by the collar. Klaus’ eyebrow perked at the gesture. “After everything you’ve put this family through, for Sir Wicker, you must keep her safe. Promise me, you will keep her safe.”

  Klaus’s expression tensed, alarmed. “Careful of what words you use around me.”

  Catching his meaning, Harry loosened his grip. “I will ensure Elizabeth is reminded of that same danger.”

  Klaus gave Harry a brisk nod and glanced down the hallway to where the shower had turned on. He turned, and quickly disappeared into the thick of the Rosefire crowd.

  #

  After she showered and dressed, Elizabeth paced by the windows. She checked and rechecked the time, worried that Klaus was taking too long to return. She pulled the blinds back again to check the street just as a police officer approached the front. Before he could knock, the officer noticed her peeking and indicated her forward to chat. Elizabeth dropped the curtain and pulled the door open.

  “Officer?” she greeted slowly.

  “Morning, Miss Wicker. Sorry to disturb you, but I’m afraid you are needed down by the station.” The chief officer motioned over his shoulder toward two others waiting beside a cop car. “We’re here to escort you there.”

  Elizabeth clutched the door frame tighter. “Down by the station? What for?”

  “We’ll clarify everything on the way. Come along.” With a brief nod from the chief, the two waiting officers stepped on either side of Elizabeth and took her arms, spinning her around.

  “What? Why? What’s going on?” She whipped her head between each guard as they walked her forward. She called over her shoulder to Harry, but was quickly subdued and forced into the back of the van. Neither officer answered any of her questions as they drove toward the station.

  Once there, she was dragged out, locked up behind bars, and left alone. Confused beyond measure, Elizabeth nervously paced her cell. She was quick to notice no other inmates shared her hallway, and no guards manned the door. After almost an hour of unanswered calls, her frustration peaked. She racked her brain thinking over the past twenty-four hours. All she could think of was Nikolas.

  The answer came to her through a shrill laugh. “Suppose it was only a matter of time before you wound up behind bars. I suppose this does feel homelier to you.” Elizabeth turned at Lady Claudia’s voice. She approached her cell, smiling. Elizabeth unfurled her arms and held them strictly by her side.

  “Lady Claudia? What are you doing here?”

  “Surprised to see me? Why, I am the one who put you here, after all.” Lady Claudia took her large, flamboyant hat off before primping her hair to ensure the bun held. Elizabeth craned her neck to see if Nikolas had followed her in. The fortune and luck that fell upon the Beaumont’s seemed to be endless, she wouldn’t be surprised if it was thanks to the Time Collectors influence.

  “You can’t lock me up because I won’t marry your son.”

  Lady Claudia glanced around, showing disgust at her surroundings. “There is something very important you must remember, Elizabeth. People in the Divin Cadeau have grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle. So when that lifestyle is threatened by rats they are all too happy to dispose of them in any way possible. Most rats like to think they are clever. But, lucky for us, I have a very, stupid rat.” From beneath her folded arm, Lady Claudia revealed a soft yellow petticoat. “Look familiar?” Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the sight of her coat. “I found this stashed outside my estate the same night a rat broke into my house. Now, I’m no lawyer, but I dare say this is incredibly incriminating evidence against you.”

  “I must have left it there from my earlier visit,” Elizabeth said. “I was at your estate earlier, your maid invited me in. A witness.”

  “Witnesses are not your best line of defence. I have two of my own, ready to point you out in a line up.” Harold Beaumont. Elizabeth swallowed hard. And Nikolas too, they both saw me. “Can you imagine the scandal if I told everyone about this?”

  “Like I care what they have to say.”

  “But your father would. In fact, he cared quite a lot about keeping the Wicker name honourable.” Lady Claudia’s smile grew. “How desperate are you to muddy up his name, and so soon after his death? How selfish can one silly, little girl be?”

  Elizabeth slammed her mouth shut. Guilt quietened her. Despite her own opinion toward society’s pressure, William Wicker was clear in his desires. She had embarrassed him. Selfish? Elizabeth thought over Lady Claudia’s choice of words, thinking she meant her father again when it became terrifying clear it wasn’t her only threat.

  Sara stepped into the room with her head bowed. She dared a moment’s glance at Elizabeth but didn’t smile. Lady Claudia motioned Sara closer, and immediately Elizabeth understood the upcoming threat. Arthur had demonstrated the same callousness. It went beyond disgracing the Wicker name and taking away her freedom. It meant Sara had to suffer more black eyes. A bloody nose. A broken jaw. Elizabeth lowered her eyes, feeling trapped. She understood Lady Claudia’s demands. The pawn to protect the queen.

  Lady Claudia’s smile grew. In their silent exchange, she read Elizabeth’s submission. She shoved Elizabeth’s petticoat back into Sara’s hands. “The officers will be by soon to let you out. I suggest you get organised and meet at the house for the announcement tonight. If you try to run away, you know what I’ll do.”

  #

  Elizabeth was stuck behind a wall of misfortune. She had never had an easy life. She was accustomed to working until she was coated in sweat and her skin painted in bruises, but this type of struggling tore through her like hot knives. How often could the world crash around your feet, until you couldn’t recognize the pieces anymore?

  At a loss, she wandered back to the only place she felt safe, her old home in the Pitts. Being back inside her old house doubled the guilt, swelling her lungs and chest. Everything was exactly the same, untouched by time. The couch facing the fireplace was cold to touch. The kitchen, with its over-hanging pots on hooks remained hidden by shadows. The umbrella standing by the entrance now blanketed in months of dust. The only thing that was different was her old gutted bedroom. She dared not venture into her mother’s room. Instead, she had found herself back in the lounge, legs curled up and her forehead pressed against her kneecaps. It must have been hours she sat like that, curled over in a mindless haze.

  In her overwhelmed state of mind, she didn’t hear Klaus break into the house. He had found out about her old address, and stormed over ready to reprimand her carelessness, but stopped when noticing her defeated posture. He didn’t approach straight away. Emotions were never his strong suit. Ambitions, though, ambitions were easier to calculate. Often direct, selfish, controlling. Whereas emotions bubbled and swelled in the twists of turns of a hurricane. Just as powerful, and something he couldn’t manipulate.

  “What are you doing here?” He approached her carefully and knelt to her level. Despite his best attempt, his voice came across as rough. “What happened?”

  She shook her head at him, unable to answer. He moved with an awkward coldness, hesitating to reach out and touch her. But as his hand brushed by her shoulder, Elizabeth immediately cringed away. “Please don’t.”

  Klaus pulled his hand back. “You’ve been miss
ing for hours. Tell me.”

  “Lady Claudia paid me a visit. She had me detained down at the police station. She blackmailed and threatened me into marrying her son, Arthur. If I don’t marry him, she’s going to kill Sara.”

  “The maid?”

  “She’s my best friend. Klaus, I don’t know what to do!”

  “Say yes.”

  Elizabeth glanced up. Surely, she had misheard him. “Say yes?”

  Klaus’ calculating face didn’t change. “You can get the pistol back. I doubt Nikolas understands the gun’s true power, so it’ll be to our advantage to place you right under his nose—”

  Anger hit her like a headache. “This isn’t just about getting the pistol! If I marry Arthur Beaumont, he’s going to make my life a living hell! I can’t say yes, but I can’t let them hurt Sara either. I don’t understand. Lady Claudia has a corrupted Time Collector. Why doesn’t she wish for the things she wants? Why go through the hassle of threatening me?”

  “Wishing for control over someone’s willpower is very costly. Surely it would kill the wisher, ending the contract. Making the whole process null. She needs you to do it by your own actions.”

  “But why does she want me to marry into her family? What could she possibly be after?”

  Klaus shrugged in mirrored confusion. “Whatever it is, it is something a Collector cannot grant her.”

  “I didn’t think there was anything off limits.”

  “There are such things as too big of a wish. Nothing is simple, not when dealing with Time Collectors.” He stood and extended his hand for her to take. “But sulking isn’t going to help you.”

  Gingerly, she took his offer, allowing him to hoist her up. “What do you suggest?” The idea of marrying Arthur was sickening. Her skin crawled with the notion of Arthur’s hands running over her.

  “Go to them.” Klaus said confidently. “And I’ll ensure you and your friend are safe.”

  Wearily, Elizabeth glanced up. “How so?”

  “Trust me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two:

  Dread tasted like steel. Elizabeth felt like a lamb hanging on a hook, the perfect feast for the oncoming wolves. She arrived at the Beaumont’s despite every fibre of her being demanding she run away. She had to trust Klaus knew what he was doing, trust that he would come up with a solution to save both her and Sara. As she walked across the threshold into the Beaumont’s foyer, an uneasy flutter went off inside her stomach. The staff moved swiftly on her arrival, having been prepped to take Elizabeth to the guest quarters of the manor. Instructions were left on the dresser. Clothes to change into. Shoes to wear. The list even told her what shade of lipstick to put on.

  What felt like the greatest insult of all were the two cuffs and one collar laid out on the dresser. It was of the Beaumont drawn swords family crest. She was meant to wear them, a symbol of her becoming a Beaumont, but Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to unclasp the choker. Her eyes searched the room. They would be spying on me no doubt. Lady Claudia didn’t work this hard to trap Elizabeth and then risk her escaping last minute. Elizabeth ran her hands along the walls, searching behind shelves and frames for cameras. Behind one of the chairs she found something scratched into the woodwork. A peep hole. And another one by the dresser. One in the corner too. It was impossible to tell how many they had. Exactly how much they can see and hear.

  “I can’t believe you actually came here.” A voice whispered with a timid knock on the door.

  Elizabeth spun around and quickly stood. “Sara?” Sara stepped inside and gently closed the bedroom door. She appeared unhurt, but the pink in her cheeks indicated she had been running. Elizabeth’s eyes shot across the room. Are they listening now? The last thing she needed was Sara unravelling her plans.

  “So it’s true?” Sara spoke and tore Elizabeth’s attention back down. “You intend to marry Arthur?”

  “Yes,” she answered quickly.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t need to understand.”

  “Why?”

  “Sara, please—”

  “It just doesn’t make sense. You absolutely loathe him.”

  “I…it is complicated.” Beneath Sara’s disproving gaze Elizabeth’s mask of confidence slipped off. She crossed her arms, feeling exposed. “Arthur isn’t that bad after all.”

  “Isn’t that bad? What have they done to you?”

  “Nothing. I am being genuine.” She couldn’t say it was to protect Sara. Guilt was vicious, it would push Sara into doing something drastic to ease Elizabeth off her sacrifice. But it was also unnecessary. Klaus had a plan. Hopefully. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? He is part of a wealthy, powerful family—”

  “You’ve never cared for such things.”

  “I’ve matured. I understand now that it’s best for my future.”

  “I know when you’re lying, Elli.” Sara stepped forward and brushed Elizabeth’s arm.

  Elizabeth quickly stepped out of her reach. “Don’t call me that. And it is not wise to act so familiar with me. Not here.” Not where Lady Claudia can hurt you. She wanted to say the words, but couldn’t. Her eyes shot straight toward the peep hole, hoping Sara would understand the hint. But instead, Sara took a step back.

  “Earlier today, why were you imprisoned?”

  “A silly misunderstanding.”

  “Lady Claudia bailed you out?”

  “She is kind.”

  “No, she blackmails people. Threatens them.”

  Elizabeth smiled at Sara’s quick understanding. “Politics, I believe. Nothing but standard upper-class hierarchy at play. Nothing I can’t handle.” She gave Sara a quick reassuring smile. As though relieved, Sara’s chest deflated.

  “You have a plan?”

  “Always.”

  Somebody knocked and opened her door. “Miss Wicker?” A servant called. “You are required down by the ballroom.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you. I won’t be a moment.” He turned and left promptly. Sara casted a sorrowful look at the bracelets.

  “You intend to wear them?”

  “It only makes sense to wear armor when you go into war.” Elizabeth smiled.

  #

  Despite the cloud of warmth, sparkling wine and laughter, the celebration felt cold as Elizabeth approached the top of the ballroom stairs. She glanced out quickly across the filling crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of Klaus. Arthur stepped next to her from the other side of the railing. He was well groomed, stuffed inside a tuxedo with a gold handkerchief in his pocket square. There were brooches of golden watches and other badges pinned to his blazer, no doubt highlighting his wealth. He glanced at her anxiously. With all the commotion, she had forgotten about their last encounter, something he clearly had not. She wasn’t sure if it was guilt or fear squeezing sweat from his brow. Elizabeth’s fingers curled. There was no way she was going to marry this man.

  “You don’t look well. It’s like you’ve seen a ghost,” she taunted him.

  The thick lump in his throat shifted as he gulped. “How are you even alive? I watched you die right in front of me.”

  “Remind me to thank you for that later.”

  “It wasn’t my fault—”

  “Announcing Sir Arthur Beaumont and Lady Elizabeth Wicker.” The booming announcer’s voice tugged their attention back toward the party. Arthur reached his arm out as Elizabeth sourly placed her hand on his. Her grip hovered above his arm with her disgust to touch him. As they glided down the stairs, neither of them smiling, the crowd below applauded and cheered with raised wine glasses.

  “Did you have a say in this?” Elizabeth hissed at him. “Can’t have me as your servant, so you’re taking me as a wife?”

  “As if I would want to marry a rodent like you.”

  “Don’t start pretending your vain insults aren’t a cover for your infatuation with me,” Elizabeth countered. “At least we’re both equally disappointed in each other.”

  “What about you? Wh
y are you agreeing to this?”

  “Turns out, the only way to get a woman to marry you is through your mother.”

  Arthur turned away, greeting one of the Counts with a smile and a firm handshake. He played the role of happy fiancé well, even if two seconds ago he was unable to lift a smile. Elizabeth failed to mimic the fake delight. Purposefully, she would ease her hair to the side, bringing notice to her Wicker crest around her neck. Gentle gasps moved in waves around them. Elizabeth smiled, knowing Lady Claudia watched from the head table.

  Arthur stepped closer. “Forget something?”

  “What?”

  “Your necklace?”

  “What about it?”

  Arthur sighed exasperated. “Embarrass us here and the consequences will be far more severe than a glassing.” Elizabeth turned to face him, but before she could speak, Arthur walked away. He was right. She and Sara were both within the range of fire. The last thing she wanted was to paint targets on their backs.

  An hour passed. Drinks continued to be refilled and guzzled. People danced. Congratulated them. Cheered. Ate food with their fingers. Elizabeth’s wine had gone warm in her grip. She hadn’t drank a drop. Arthur didn’t approach her again for the rest of the night. She found him arguing with one of the maids off to the side of the ballroom. By the look of horror on his face, the maid must have broken something of his. He grabbed her arm and yanked her out into the hallway. Elizabeth took a nervous sip from her glass.

  “Miss Wicker?’” A servant approached and handed her a note. “This came for you.”

  On the piece of paperwork was one word. Garden. “Who gave you this?”

  “The guest only said you know who he is. But he did have a funny accent.”

  Klaus. “I do know him. Thank you.” Elizabeth picked up the end of her dress and quickly excused herself. Behind closed doors the noise from the party quietened into murmurs. The outside wind gently pulled on Elizabeth’s hair, tickling her with a warm breeze. She glanced out and noticed she wasn’t the only person taking refuge in the garden. Couples dotted the pathway, admiring the landscape and open starry night.