The Wayfarer: A Time Travel Romance (The Wayfarer Series Book 1)

by Jennifer L. Hayes

  Isobel came even closer. She reached her hand out to me. “May I touch it?” Never taking her eyes off the tattoo, she reached a delicate hand towards me.

  “Sure.”

  Her hands were cool.

  “I want one too!” she declared with a smile. “Did it hurt?” She continued to stare at it like it would somehow move on its own.

  “A little, but not too much.” I could imagine Isobel at a tattoo parlor in L.A. She would be blown away by all the possibilities.

  “Maybe they do such things in London. I will have to look into it.” She got up and we resumed our task at hand. I wiggled into the dress while Isobel helped button me up. Without all the necessary undergarments it didn’t look great, but you could get an idea.

  We continued like this, laughing and chatting like old friends. More than once she reminded me of April with her wit and humor. The final dress was the winner in the end. Of course, I felt like it was completely over the top, but Isobel was so excited that I didn’t have the heart to refuse.

  That being done, we decided to leave for tea. Isobel rang for Miss Barnsby and rattled off some instructions for the dress.

  It was nice to get out of the house. A veil of drizzle left the air cool and brimming with the earthy smell of freshly raked leaves. Isobel had McCleary bring up the Brougham, which was a beautiful red carriage that sat only two people, with a covered roof. It was a much nicer option than the one we’d taken to Oxwich, as the seats were forward-facing with a clear view of the road ahead.

  The household had been a busy hive of activity with the preparations for the ball. No one seemed too worried about our departure, least of all the countess, who was clearly in her element barking out instructions to the staff and reprimanding those who were found by her elevated standards to be incompetent. Hopefully it would be this easy for me to set out tomorrow.

  “What happened to your hand?” I asked Isobel when I noticed that her right hand was bandaged.

  “I cut myself on some glass. It was extremely clumsy of me. There was blood everywhere; a complete disaster. And I nearly ruined one of my favorite dresses.”

  “Poor you.” Her dramatics suggested it was far more serious than I imagine it was.

  “No matter. I can still manage,” she said in case I was worried we’d have to call off our excursion.

  The village of Foxford sat on the edge of two merging rivers. A flint stone bridge crossed the length of both and was wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side. McCleary dropped us off at the far side of the small square, where a cute collection of shops lined the streets. Isobel dragged me straight for Delilah’s, which was a ladies’ store specializing in accessories, everything from hats to ribbons to gloves.

  We hadn’t noticed Jane, Henry’s fiancée, when we walked in but we certainly did now as she made a show about leaving. Many eager young girls scrambled around her, hoping that her good fortune might rub off on them or that perhaps she would be kind enough to bestow even an ounce of friendship on them. She looked overwhelmed by the attention and waited for them to clear out of her way before leaving with her mother and a small entourage. Half the place emptied out in her wake, as most of the women were curious about Lord Henry’s wife-to-be.

  Isobel rolled her eyes at me, a look that was not lost on Jane as she walked out the door. It was clear that Isobel disliked Jane. She wasn’t gaining a sister in this union but an inconvenience, according to her. Everything about Jane had been learned in a book—how to behave, what to say, whom to talk to. She was a doll. That was how Isobel described her. At great length.

  “Honestly, Emma, she’s pathetic.” Isobel said as she ran her good hand over the ribbons.

  I didn’t feel the same way. Of course, a small part of me wanted to hate her for being engaged to a man I had feelings for, but she was a tool in all this. From what I’d heard, the first time she’d even met Lord Henry was at last night’s dinner. Did she even have a choice whether or not to marry? Maybe she had her own hopes and dreams but wasn’t able to share them. I had to think she was more than the picture Isobel painted of her.

  The shop owner, Mrs. Tinkly, was an elegant-looking woman in her forties. With the patience of a saint, she waited on Isobel hand and foot while I strolled around, looking at and touching all the fabrics.

  “That looks lovely on you, Lady Isobel,” Mrs. Tinkly remarked as she held two other bonnets in her hand.

  “What do you think, Emma?” Isobel asked as if Mrs. Tinkly had not spoken.

  “I think she’s right. It really brings out your eye color.” I wasn’t sure what people looked for in a bonnet. To be honest, it was a little too Little House on the Prairie for me.

  “All right, I’ll take both of them, the gloves and the ribbons too,” Isabel said to the shop owner, never taking her eyes off her reflection in the small mirror.

  “Terrific choices. I’ll have those wrapped right away,” Mrs. Tinkly said with enthusiasm. “Will you be putting these on account?”

  “Yes. My friend will have to sign for me, though, as I’ve injured my hand.” She turned towards me. “Emma, do you mind?”

  “Of course not,” I said, walking to join Mrs. Tinkly as she prepared the paperwork.

  “You can sign here”—she pointed to a blank space on the paper—“and here.” She indicated a separate paper.

  I did as I was told and she handed Isobel one of the copies.

  “Emma,” Isobel called out to me. “I bought the second one for you to wear now. You can’t go around with your hair flying around like that. Consider it a little gift.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “You didn’t have to.” I wasn’t sure if I should feel insulted or touched.

  “That’s what friends do for each other.” She smiled and handed me the hat that Mrs. Tinkly was holding out to me. It was not the most flattering of colors on me, but I accepted the gift graciously.

  As we walked out of the shop, we both noticed Lieutenant Walker heading our way. He hadn’t yet noticed us and I considered whisking Isobel in the opposite direction, but before I could, she made a big fuss trying to wave him over. I really wished she hadn’t. I wasn’t sure that I was in the mood. When he asked if we’d join him for a drink at the Hare and Whistle, Isobel accepted without a moment’s hesitation.

  “You don’t mind, Emma, do you?” she whispered to me as an afterthought.

  There was a moment of awkwardness when the lieutenant pulled out a chair and Isobel made a gracious move to sit until he indicated for her to sit around the other side. A chubby drunkard named Joe was patting the seat next to him. Something passed over her face, but in seconds it was gone and replaced by her charming smile. The taste of beer was welcome and before long we were all enjoying a much-needed laugh.

  “Tell me, Miss Clapton, will you be attending the ball tomorrow evening?” the lieutenant asked me in a hushed voice, as if he didn’t already know.

  “It’s Clayton,” I corrected. “And yes, I’ll be there. Will you?”

  “Only to be in your presence once again.” He took my hand and kissed it. “Would you do me the honor of a dance tomorrow then?” His eyes lingered on something outside before turning his gaze back to me.

  “Sure,” I answered only to be polite, but hoped he wouldn’t hold me to it.

  When he released my hand I took hold of my glass. A small part of me felt flattered by the attention, especially in the wake of Lord Henry’s rejection. I figured there was no harm in that. Isobel had settled into a conversation at the other end of the table and seemed to be enjoying herself.

  A few drinks later, I found myself leaning heavily into the lieutenant as he escorted Isobel and I to our carriage. He was making us both laugh with his impersonations of the countess. As one of Henry’s oldest friends, he’d known the family for a long time and was able to imitate her pursed-lip speech flawlessly.

  “John,” came a familiar deep voice. Lord Henry’s expression registered surprise when he saw me on the lieutenant’
s arm. He scowled down at us from horseback. “I won’t have time for a drink after all. I just came to tell Isobel that her mother seeks a word with her.”

  “Surely you didn’t come all this way to deliver a message to your sister. Come now, old boy, let’s have a proper catch-up.” Despite the large amount of ale already consumed, the lieutenant barely even swayed.

  “Another time perhaps. When my time is less restricted. I’ve got much to do before my engagement party.” Henry hardly glanced my way but I felt the weight of his words on my heart, which felt pierced like a pincushion in my chest.

  With his messages delivered he turned and trotted off. Not towards Dormer House but away from it. A sense of dread burned in my belly. My stomach felt turned upside down. Why did I feel like I’d just been caught with my hand in the cookie jar? Most importantly, why did I care so much what Lord Henry thought?

  “Oh, great. What does Mother want now?” Isobel didn’t remark on her brother’s manner; she was more irritated that she had been summoned.

  “Well, ladies, I bid you farewell and look forward to our continued acquaintance tomorrow evening.” Lieutenant Walker bowed his head to us and went back to the pub.

  A weak smile crossed my lips. How could I celebrate Lord Henry’s union with another?

  Chapter 19

  Ladies Do Lunch

  It was amazing to see how quickly the house was readied for the ball. The large formal sitting room, which was really like two very large rooms in one, was stripped of furniture, making a large area for dancing and mingling.

  Even though I wasn’t keen to celebrate Lord Henry’s engagement, the energy in the household was infectious. What an experience to be part of such an event in a house like this. Of course I’d seen Pride and Prejudice at least a dozen times but now I was going to see what these things were really like, not just the Hollywood version. The dining room was set up as a large buffet area where platters of food would be laid out for the guests to nibble on. Extra footmen from nearby estates had been called in for the evening to help serve and clear.

  All morning wagons had been making deliveries with fresh meat, cheese, general supplies and casks of wine and whiskey. It was exciting to be a fly on the wall observing the scale of the preparations. I couldn’t even imagine what would be done for the wedding.

  Lord Henry’s tragic accident registered in my mind and stopped me in my tracks. They wouldn’t need to worry about any wedding preparations in the end.

  Lord Henry will die before then.

  A world without him in it was suddenly too much to bear. I felt shaken to the core.

  Maybe there was a way to stop it. A way to warn him.

  Phoebus was buzzing around making sure everything was in order. At least he wasn’t taking notice of me. No one was. I could slip out easily in all of the hustle and bustle and no one would even realize I was gone. Harris, I’d overheard some servants saying, had left suddenly for London on some family emergency and wouldn’t be back until the morning. One less person skulking around made it easier for me.

  The roads were pretty straightforward. If I made a left at the bottom of the lane I could follow the same road all the way to Oxwich. It was still early enough that I could disappear and be back before sunset.

  The small pouch of coins was tucked into the breeches I wore under my dress just in case I needed money. When I had tried to hand it back to Lord Henry he’d refused. Maybe he realized that I was destitute and at any moment his parents’ kindness to me would run dry and I’d be turfed out with nothing. I was grateful to have it.

  The only person in the barn was the young groom Jamie. Everyone else had been sent on various errands to prepare for the ball. It was easy to convince Jamie that I needed to take Angus out for a bit and without question he tacked him up for me and I was on my way.

  I left at a leisurely pace to start with, and then I hurried along, anxious to put as much distance between me and the Dormer House as possible. It wasn’t like I was a prisoner, but I didn’t think they’d take too kindly to me taking one of their horses to Oxwich without asking. Everyone had their opinion of what I was: a whore, a thief, a simpleton. Even Lord Henry. I wasn’t sure what he thought of me. A naive girl—well, he’d told me that much. A charlatan? I had kind of jumped his bones.

  When I got to Oxwich I stabled Angus at the Good Intent, as it was closest to the apothecary and I was worried about tying him up on the street. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain to the earl that I’d not only taken one of his horses, but had it stolen. As far as anyone was concerned I was just going out for a ride.

  Half running, half walking, I made it to the apothecary and then realized I didn’t know what to do next. When would Miss Crabtree come? Or worse, what if she’d already come? Should I ask? Maybe I could get a cup of tea across the street while I waited.

  The little tea room felt very much like a ladies-who-lunch kind of place. It was predominantly done up in pastel colors with paintings of flowers or food still lifes on the walls. All of the current occupants were well-to-do women sitting in groups of threes or fours gossiping about fashions and scandals. Obviously the news of Lord Henry’s engagement was a hot topic, as more than two tables made some mention or another of it. One woman, in a hushed tone, revealed that the match had been made because the earl’s fortune was in jeopardy. Another spoke about the fact that Jane was technically Lord Henry’s first cousin, although not by blood, as the countess was only his stepmother.

  It was difficult to stay focused on looking out for Miss Crabtree because my attention was continuously being drawn into the gossip vortex. Then a rotund pig-nosed girl started to say that she’d heard that Lord Henry wasn’t even the legitimate heir to the earldom. She’d heard it directly from a ladies’ maid to the countess.

  I felt a strong desire to jump to his defense, but movement across the street at the apothecary caught my attention. An old lady dressed in black had just left and was already making her way down the busy road.

  Shit. Panicked, I reached for my change purse. How much did a cup of tea cost? I had no idea. Soon Miss Crabtree would be out of sight completely and my only chance lost. My hands shook as I tried to pull out some coins from the little purse. I slammed down a shilling and made a dash for the door.

  “Excuse me, miss?” the waitress called out but I was already out the door and dodging through people, horses and dogs.

  My heart thumped in my chest like it was trying to hammer its way out completely. Where had she gone? There was a humming in my ears as I searched through the crowd for the woman in black. Frantic now, I raced up the street in the direction I’d seen her go moments ago. People stopped to look at me. I supposed I was making a spectacle of myself—a tall woman running alarmingly fast. I was sure I would soon be the talk of the town. Something caught my arm and I was yanked back and fell hard into Harris the creepy coach driver.

  “What have we here?” His breath smelt of sour milk and rot. “A little far from home, are we?”

  Busted.

  The adrenaline coursing through my body made it difficult to feel my lips enough to speak. I hadn’t accounted for the possibility of running into anyone I might know.

  “I just had an errand to run.” The ringing in my ears grew louder.

  “An errand? Really, what kind of errand?”

  “I had to return a book for Lord Henry. We bought it the other day but he decided not to keep it.” Oops, I forgot to bring it with me.

  “Without an escort? You on your own? Where’s this parcel you speak of?” He searched me up and down for the parcel.

  “I’ve already returned it.”

  “Then why are you in such a hurry? I’ve never seen a lass run like that unless she’s being chased, and usually that’s because she’s gone and done somethin’ she shouldna been doing in the first place. I wonder what milord would say t’your story? In fact, I think he’d be none too pleased to know you’d come on your own.”

  “Well, why don’t you ask h
im? And why are you here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be in London on a ‘family emergency’?”

  Something passed across his face. Perhaps there was something going on that he wished to keep private.

  “Ah, a smart little lass, are ye? I think you’ve got quite a few little secrets of your own.” His eyes scanned my whole body. Was he coming on to me? Or was he the one who’d left the note under my door? Creepy on so many levels.

  “So why were ye runnin’?” Clearly he was not going to let this go. He struggled to get some sort of leverage over me.

  “I was going to check on the horse. I didn’t want them feeding him too much before I headed back.” This was thin but the best I could come up with in a pinch.

  “I see, well, the Good Intent is the other direction.” He pointed the way I’d just come from and watched closely for my reaction.

  “How did—? I guess I must have gotten myself turned around.” So he’d been spying on me. With a quick jerk I pulled my arm from his sweaty grasp, spun around and headed back the way I’d just come from. Chills rose up my spine. How long had he been following me?

  He continued to watch as I made my way through the crowd.

  All of this for nothing.

  I’d taken a huge risk coming here and now I was no better off than before. My eyes started to sting and I swallowed hard, determined not to cry. What would Harris say to Lord Henry? Or worse, the earl and countess? How could I explain coming here on my own? What if the earl was angry and decided to throw me out? I felt the small purse of money in the hem of my breeches. At least I could survive for a short time.