by Sky Winters
“Oh it would be nice,” Eleanor nodded.
“Then of course I shall accompany you,” William said with a nod. “But only if Cynthia will join us as well. I’m sure she is as excited about the idea of a travelling circus.”
Cynthia ignored the infuriated expression on Lady Jameson’s face. “Why of course,” she said with a smile. “What young lady wouldn’t be?”
Chapter Six
Cynthia turned one corner of the library and found William sitting there between the shelves, staring out the window at the lands he owned.
“William?” Cynthia said quietly.
If he was startled, he hid it well. “Hello,” he said, his eyes were far away. “I thought you would be getting ready for the circus.”
“I will in a moment,” Cynthia nodded. “I just wanted to put this book back first. Are you all right? You seem a little… pensive.”
“Musgrave and Company have increased their offer,” William told her. “Mother is pressuring me to say yes and there are so many positives to accepting it.”
“Then why are you so conflicted?” Cynthia asked as she came forward.
William sighed. “I can’t get rid of the guilt,” he admitted. “I can’t just forget about the tenants.”
“What does your mother think?”
“She thinks I’m making it too personal,” William replied. “She thinks that business and sentimentality should not go hand in hand.”
“I see,” Cynthia nodded. “And what do you think?”
“I think that… our tenants need their homes,” William said. “But even if I keep the land and allow them to stay on it… half of them can’t afford to keep paying their rent in the first place and I have to be practical. I’m not running a charity.”
“What if they were self-sufficient?” Cynthia asked, the idea coming to her suddenly.
“What do you mean?” William asked.
“What if you allowed them to work the land?” Cynthia asked. “What if they farmed it? Then they would really make use of the land and they would be able to pay you rent as well.”
“Farming…” William said thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought of it.”
“To be honest, I didn’t come up with it all on my own,” Cynthia, admitted thinking of Mrs. Murray. “But I think it might be a good idea.”
William nodded thoughtfully. “It is an exceptional idea. Cynthia… this feels right to me.”
“Then that’s a good sign,” Cynthia nodded happily, but then the smile slid off her face. “Your mother is not going to be happy about this.”
“My mother has to learn that I am capable of making my own decisions,” William said with strength in his voice. “She can’t expect me to do as she pleases and marry who she chooses for me.”
Cynthia glanced up at him. “She wants you to marry Eleanor doesn’t she?
“Yes,” William nodded. “But little does she know that Eleanor is in love with someone else and has been for a long time. He is a man who her parents heartily disapprove of,” William explained. “Which is why she is not yet married.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” William nodded. “Eleanor has never wanted to marry me and to be honest… even if she did, it wouldn’t matter.”
“It wouldn’t?”
William smiled. “I believe I’m falling in love with another woman.”
Cynthia held her breath as his blue eyes locked on hers. “William…”
She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence because William leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. Cynthia stood frozen in place for a few seconds before she found herself melting into his embrace as their kiss deepened. When they finally broke apart, Cynthia knew she was in way over her head, but William was looking at her as though all his plans had just fallen into place.
“Let’s head to the fair shall we?” William said.
“Yes,” Cynthia nodded, but in the back of her mind she was wondering what on earth she was doing letting herself get entangled with a man she couldn’t possibly stay with.
Chapter Seven
The fair was vibrant, chaotic and filled with different forms of entertainment. There were stands set up everywhere, all manner of shows taking place and activities that the local folk could participate in. William and Cynthia had arrived with Eleanor but she had left them to spend a few hours alone with her beau, allowing them a few hours alone as well.
As they walked through the carnival, William spotted a large secretive looking tent that had been set up. Outside it hung a sign that read ‘Madam Victoire: Professional soothsayer and oracle palm reader’. “We must go in,” William said.
Enjoying the atmosphere of the night and the way William smiled every time he looked her way, Cynthia nodded willingly and they moved towards the tent.
“You seem excited,” Cynthia pointed out.
“I love this kind of thing,” William admitted. “I’ve been to one other circus carnival like this as a boy and I visited a soothsayer just like this one.”
The line was short but they were told they would have to go in separately, so Cynthia went on first. It was like being in a dark room that was illuminated only be candlelight. There was a round table with a crystal ball in its center and a woman sat behind it. She was dressed in flowing robes and her golden hair hung long and loose about her. Her eyes looked purple in the misty brightness of candlelight.
“Hello Cynthia,” Madam Victoire said as though she were greeting an old friend.
Cynthia froze immediately. “How do you know my name?”
“Because I have seen you in my crystal ball,” Madam Victoire said mysteriously as she gestured for Cynthia to sit down.
“So then… you know that… I don’t belong here?” Cynthia said almost desperately as she sat down.
“Indeed,” Madam Victoire nodded.
“Do you know what will happen next?” Cynthia asked.
“Give me your palms.”
Cynthia presented her hands to the soothsayer and she looked over them carefully. “Hmm… this is very interesting…”
“What is it?” Cynthia asked urgently as she leaned in.
“You are from another time,” Madame Victoire said softly.
“Yes.”
“And I see that you will return soon.”
Cynthia felt her heart drop. “When?”
“That I cannot say for sure,” Madam Victoire replied. “It could be a week, a month or a year.”
“And… will I ever return?” Cynthia asked. “Return back to this time?”
Madam Victoire looked back down at her palms. “Your future is open child. It all depends on you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Then wait for understanding to come,” Madam Victoire advised. “And make your decision then.”
Cynthia left the tent in a haze of confusion. William seemed to notice her preoccupation because he led her away from the crowd to a secluded little nook behind some trees. “Cynthia?” he said gently. “Are you alright?”
“I… I’m not sure,” Cynthia replied honestly.
“What did she tell you?” William asked.
“I… nothing definite,” Cynthia replied. “She was very vague.”
“It was the same with me,” William nodded.
“What?” Cynthia asked, jerking her eyes up to meet his.
“When I visited the soothsayer at the fair, she told me some things too. They were vague to me at the time but I have since come to understand what she meant,” William explained.
“What did she tell you?”
“She told me that I would spend my life in confusion, until one day a mysterious woman would appear and when she did my confusion would clear.”
“Really?” Cynthia asked.
William nodded. “I was only thirteen at the time but I never forgot her words. They didn’t make sense to me… until the day you turned up.”
“Oh,” was all Cynthia could think of to say.
�
�She was right Cynthia,” William nodded. “My confusion is gone and my path forward is clear.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a box. “I want you to have this,” he said as he opened it to reveal a beautiful emerald green ring, the same emerald green ring that had transported Cynthia back to this time in the first place.
“Oh my God,” Cynthia breathed.
“It’s been in my family for generations,” William said. “I want you to have it.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to marry me Cynthia,” William said fervently. “I want you to be my wife.”
“William…”
“You and I both know we’re perfect for one another…”
“But your mother,” Cynthia said.
“I told my mother of my decision… in regards to the land and to you just before we left.”
“She must be furious.”
“She knows I cannot be swayed,” William said. “She has decided that once we are married… she will move to the city on her own.”
“I see,” Cynthia nodded.
“Presuming of course… that you say yes to marrying me,” William said with a shy smile.
“William…”
“Yes?”
“I may have to leave soon,” Cynthia said sadly.
William looked puzzled, a thousand questions burned in his eyes. “Is that what the soothsayer told you?” he asked.
“Yes,” Cynthia nodded.
William put his hand beneath Cynthia’s chin and lifted her face up to meet his gaze. “Then perhaps we should enjoy whatever time we have left together… until we meet again.”
Cynthia stared at the burning hope etched across his face. It gave her both faith and confidence. “Until we meet again,” she nodded as they leaned towards each other for a kiss.
- The End -
A DUKE IN TIME
Chapter 1
Mary O’Donnell was hard at work in the basement of the Jackson Museum when she heard footsteps coming down the hallway towards her.
“Mary, are you down here,” Tia called as she peered in to the collection storage vault where Mary was working.
“Over here,” she called as she looked up from the tray of artifacts in front of her. While she loved to get lost in her work, visits from Tia were always a nice distraction. They had started working at the museum at the same time. Mary worked as a curator while Tia worked as a fundraiser. They had long ago started the practice of visiting each other when they needed a temporary distraction, and it was always a moment of relaxation.
“What are you doing in jewelry storage,” Tia asked as she walked through the door. She was usually hard at work with the paintings and sculptures, but that day was a special day.
“Just processing this new acquisition,” she said with a grin. She had waited for months for the collection of jewels in front of her to be delivered. The museum had purchased them at auction, but there had been quite a few loopholes because it was an international purchase. Finally, though, the shipment had arrived and she was overjoyed.
“Oh that is right. I forgot that was arriving today. Regency era pieces, right,” Tia said as she peered at the pieces that her friend was working with.
“Yes, there are twenty two pieces, all from one estate,” Mary gushed, so excited about the amazing pieces. The Regency Era was one of her favorite periods in history and she was so excited to work with such a complete collection of jewels form the time period. They were amazing samples of the taste and styles of the time. It was a collection like none she had ever seen before, let alone had the opportunity to work with.
“Fantastic,” Tia said, gleefully. She had worked hard to fundraise for the purchase of the pieces and it always helped her justify all of her effort to sneak down to see the pieces when they arrived.
“Want a peak,” Mary offered, excited to share the treasures with someone else who would be just as excited as she was about their beauty.
“You know I do,” Tia said with a huge smile as she pulled up a chair beside her best friend. It was their ritual, she snuck down and Mary gave her the first peak at new artifacts before anyone else got to see them.
“Let me grab the trays,” Mary said as she jumped up to grab the other two trays of jewelry from the vault. When she brought the trays back, Tia’s eyes lit up.
“Oh they are stunning,” she cried as she stared at the sparklers before her. Each was more beautiful than the last. There were stunning rings with giant sapphires and diamonds. There were drop earrings with stunning gold detailing surrounding emeralds and yellow diamonds. There was such amazing quality of work on each piece that they were really tiny, wearable works of art. She could see in Tia’s eyes that she very much desired to touch the jewels, but thankfully her friend knew better than to ask for the privilege. After all, it would be improper artifact handling.
“Yes, they are wonderful examples of the period,” she answered, her eyes returning to the beautiful sapphire pendant that had caught her attention from the first moment that she had begun to unpack the collection. It was a rather large stone in the center, but the design was a simple one. The chain was a braid of silver and the braided technique continued around the stone itself, showcasing it beautifully.
“They are also fabulous. Look at these jewels,” Tia said, pulling Mary’s attention away from the alluring pendant.
“They are very pretty,” Mary had to admit as her eyes returned to the beautiful pendant.
“Look at those emeralds,” Tia gushed. The necklace that she was referring to was the showpiece of the group to be sure. It had emeralds the size of quarters, each surrounded by diamonds. The chain also dripped in diamonds, which bridged the space between the emerald and diamond clusters.
“Yes, that is a stunning piece,” Mary agreed without taking her eyes from the sapphire necklace that she was so drawn to.
“You prefer the sapphire pendant. It is rather plain,” Tia said, teasing her friend slightly. She often gave Mary a hard time about her preference for simpler things in fashion, even outside of work.
“I do not think you can call a stone of that size plain,” she smirked, still amazed by the delicate detail of the sapphire necklace.
“You know what I mean. All the rest of these are intricate and beautifully detailed. That is the simplest one,” Tia answered.
“Yes I suppose that it is, but it is the loveliest. There is something so beautiful and timeless about the simplicity,” Mary commented.
“Try it on,” Tia urged with a mischievous smile.
“I can't. It would be unprofessional,” Mary gasped.
“I am not going to tell anyone. Go ahead,” she said, tempting Mary more than she even knew.
“No! It would be wrong. This is an artifact. It should not have contact with skin. Think of the damage the oil on your hands could do to the delicate metalwork,” Mary answered, though from the moment that she had seen the necklace, she had been picturing it around her own neck.
“Jewelry is meant to be worn,” Tia pointed out, making a dangerous amount of sense.
“Not these pieces. Not anymore,” Mary said sternly, more to herself than to Tia because she was very tempted to wear it, just once.
“Fine. Do you want to grab coffee after work,” Tia said, seemingly letting the topic go.
“I do not think I will be able to. I think I will be here pretty late. I want to get these all in to the system before the weekend,” Mary answered, looking forward to the peace of being along in the building that evening with her work.
“You are never going to meet a guy if you do not ever leave the museum,” Tia cautioned, only half teasing her friend.
“Maybe I am not looking for a guy,” Mary answered, a little too quickly to really be believed.
“Mary, lie to anyone else you would like but do not lie to me. I know what a romantic you are,” her friend replied with a knowing smile.
“That is why I am not looking. The man I am looking for does not exis
t,” Mary said dismissively, turning her attention back to her notebook and her description of the bracelet she had been working on when Tia arrived.
“Looking for someone like that guy. He is quite dashing but darling, he is dead,” Tia teased, gesturing to the large portrait of a man that was standing on an easel in the corner. It was from the same estate as the jewel and an amazing example of portraiture. The young man was near her own age, perhaps in his mid-twenties. His dark hair and even darker eyes made him look like the devil himself. The slight smirk on his lips did nothing to dispel that impression.
“Yes, he is. These jewels came from the estate of his family,” Mary explained.
“I bet his wife was a happy woman,” Tia said with a laugh.
“Actually, he was killed not long after the painting was finished,” Mary explained, recalling the provenance notes that had arrived with the portrait. It was a sad tale indeed.
“What happened,” Tia asked, her eyes locked on the face of the man in the portrait, long dead.
“His family hosted a house party in the hopes of finding him a wife. One of the potential young ladies had another suitor who was mad with love for her. He shot Daniel,” Mary explained briefly, thinking of how terrible it must have been to die in that way.
“Daniel?” Tia asked, curiously.
“Daniel Briar, Lord Smithmont,” she explained without more detail.
“He was a handsome man,” Tia repeated.
“Quite handsome, “Mary admitted, staring into the eyes of the portrait. Something about the man within looked so alive that it was hard to believe that he had been dead only weeks after the paint had dried on the canvas.
