Slumber

by Felicity Harper

  The housekeeper looked befuddled. Mr Thackeray was not usually one for such frivolities as dining out of doors. He seemed not at all himself this morning. “No trouble at all, Mr Thackeray,” she said with a puzzled frown. “I shall see to it now.”

  “Thank you, Mrs Finn,” Gilbert called after her retreating back. Once she had gone, he addressed the part of the room from where he had last heard Clementine speak. “There now, Princess: we can sit outside and, while I dine, you can tell me everything you remember. How does that sound?”

  “There is little I remember of that day,” Clementine began, gazing upwards and trying to force the memories to come. “I recall wishing my aunt a good morning and perhaps my cousin too. Papa was away but - I think - coming home soon. They are all fragments of memories; some I am not even sure are from that day.” Gilbert was sipping his coffee as he listened to her. “Was it that day when we spoke?” she asked.

  “No, that was a day or two before,” he answered. He shook his head as he remembered their meeting. “I have thought since how well you looked that day. There were no tell-tale signs of illness or fatigue - nothing to indicate what would happen.”

  Clementine smiled sadly. “It is not an illness, Mr Thackeray. ‘Tis a curse from which I suffer.”

  “I cannot believe in curses, Your Highness. They are the stuff of Gothic tales, not reality.”

  “Please, let us drop the formality. There are no social conventions or protocols to dictate what one should do in situations such as these. Call me Clementine.” Gilbert shifted uncomfortably. He had never been particularly reverent in the past, she thought with amusement.

  “Perhaps you are right,” Gilbert admitted thoughtfully. “After all, this is a very unusual situation.”

  “It certainly is.” Clementine agreed. “So,” she teased, “shall we be friends, Mr Thackeray, or is that too wildly inappropriate for you?”

  “I dare say I can cope,” he replied seriously. “Though, if we are to be friends, you should probably call me Gilbert, … Clementine.”

  Clementine covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. He made even such a small thing as addressing each other by their given names seem so scandalous. “I will do my best to honour your wish, Gilbert Thackeray, though I worry it will earn me one of your stern looks!”

  “Just Gilbert will do,” he said, giving her one of those very looks. “And, in my experience, a ‘stern look’ never worked on you anyway.”

  “It did if your intention was to amuse me,” Clementine smiled. She had always relished those moments when she had ruffled his solemn exterior. Gilbert Thackeray had always taken himself far too serious for her liking.

  “Wilful creature!” he said without rancour and poured himself some more coffee.

  Although neither Gilbert nor Clementine realised it, the master of the house was causing quite a stir. Mrs Finn, Mrs Hill and the maid had gathered at the kitchen window and were watching their employer keenly.

  “Is he going doolally-tats, then?” Hetty asked.

  “Certainly not!” Mrs Finn said haughtily. “Mr Thackeray is a scholar. They does thing differently is all.”

  “Well, all I can say is that, if they’re all like ‘im, the loony bin must be stuffed to the rafters with them ‘scholars’,” Hetty smirked.

  Chapter Seven

  “I have already told you: it has nothing to do with my feelings! It was the curse!”

  They were back in the study. Gilbert was behind his desk, furiously dipping his nib pen in and out of the inkwell as he took notes. In a search for clues, he had made Clementine go over and over the events of the days preceding the “incident” and she was now about ready to start launching things at his stubborn head.

  “It seems to me you were under a tremendous burden,” Gilbert was saying now with great authority. “An imminent marriage proposal; the probability of leaving the safety of the Palace - the only place you have ever known - and placing yourself into the hands of a man you barely know.”

  Clementine wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue, which was completely pointless as Gilbert Thackeray could not see her. “I wanted Sir Hugo to propose!” she all but shouted. “I am very fond of him and I was looking forward to starting a life with him. I still am!” She sighed in frustration. “Mr Thackeray - Gilbert - you are barking up the wrong tree.”

  Gilbert’s mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. “Just out of interest, would you mind explaining the Duke’s virtues to me? From the little I have seen, he is not the sort of man I can imagine the King championing as his daughter’s suitor.”

  Gilbert’s superior attitude did nothing to soften her opinion of him. Just the opposite in fact. “He is handsome and amusing and an excellent horseman,” Clementine said. Then stopped. There were other things she liked about him - she was positive of that. So why, under Gilbert’s unwavering scrutiny, was she struggling to name them?

  “Actually,” she finished lamely, “I see no reason to justify my choice to you.”

  “Indeed,” he said, returning to his notes. His smug tone did nothing to quell Clementine’s sudden desire to launch heavy items at him. A sudden thought occurred to her.

  “There was post that day!”

  “Really? What sort of post?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” she answered. She wandered about the room as she tried to remember the rest. “A letter, I think. There’s something I feel I should remember but it’s out of reach just like a will o’ the wisp.”

  “Can you remember the circumstances?” Gilbert asked her. “Might you have seen who delivered it, for instance?”

  “No.” Clementine frowned in concentration. “I think it was already there.” An image of the breakfast room popped into her mind. “I was having breakfast!” she told him excitedly. “Evangeline was there too!”

  “Excellent!” Gilbert said, nodding at her to continue as he scribbled more notes. But, no matter how hard she tried, the rest would not materialise.

  “It’s hopeless!” she lamented. “I shall never remember!”

  “There’s no point in despairing,” Gilbert reassured her. “These things take time.”

  “But I don’t have time!” Clementine wailed.

  In an effort to cheer Clementine up, Gilbert spent the rest of the afternoon reading everything he could find in his library on curses. The exercise had yielded slim pickings so he had sent Hetty off to the nearest bookseller with a note asking him to deliver everything he had on the subject.

  “Whatever he has should arrive by tomorrow,” Gilbert assured her. “Mr Godwin is pretty reliable in these matters.”

  Now that he was exploring the possibility that she really had been cursed, Clementine was feeling better disposed towards Gilbert. “Thank you,” she told him. “I really do appreciate everything you are doing for me.”

  A tentative knock interrupted them and Mrs Finn stuck her head around the study door. “Is everything all right, Mr Thackeray?” she asked.

  “Yes, everything is fine. Thank you, Mrs Finn.”

  “It’s just … well … Hetty says she heard you talking to someone.” She looked pointedly around the room. “Will there be an extra place for supper?”

  Gilbert frowned to hide his smile. “No. It will just be me as normal - and don’t worry about setting up the parlour. I’ll just eat in here.”

  “Very well, Sir.”

  “Oh no, Gilbert!” Clementine burst out as soon as Mrs Finn had retreated. “Please let us go into the parlour. It’s so cosy in there.”

  “If you wish,” Gilbert replied. Mrs Finn opened the door again. “Beg pardon?” she asked clearly perplexed by the Master’s behaviour.

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs Finn,” Gilbert said smoothly. “I’m a little muddle-headed today. I think I will eat in the parlour after all.”

  “Yes, I think that would be a good idea. A break from work might do you the world of good, Sir” she said with motherly concern. The housekee
per departed and Gilbert groaned.

  “Wonderful! Now the servants think I’m losing my marbles!”

  “It’s a little disconcerting to know you are watching me eat when I cannot see you.”

  “Well, just so you know, I am staring intently at you while you tuck into that delicious looking dinner,” Clementine teased.

  “Thank you for that,” Gilbert smiled as Clementine giggled. “Now I don’t feel at all awkward.”

  “You’re very welcome, Gilbert Thackeray.”

  When Mrs Finn saw his plate was empty, she smiled with pleasure. “Would you like your coffee in the study?” she asked.

  “I think I’ll have it in here, where it’s warm and cosy,” Gilbert replied. Mrs Finn gave him a long, thoughtful look. She wasn’t used to Gilbert sounding quite so cheerful nor so willing to enjoy his home comforts. “Hmm. I’ll fetch it then.”

  “Thank you, Mrs Finn and, if you have some, perhaps a piece of your delicious fruit cake?”

  Mrs Finn’s eyes widened in delighted surprise. “Yes, of course, Mr Thackeray!” she cried happily and practically skipped from the parlour. Clementine smiled as the elderly woman left. “You certainly seem to have made her day,” she remarked.

  “Mrs Finn is forever trying to feed me up. I dare say my asking for cake this evening will result in a flurry of baking. I can see me having to eat cake at every meal from now on just to keep her happy.”

  “Gilbert Thackeray! Be thankful you can enjoy cake!” Clementine scolded him. “I long to taste food again!”

  Gilbert sat down in a chair by the fire. “Do you feel hungry?” he asked, the myriad complexities of the situation piquing his interest once more. “What do you feel, Clementine? Tell me.”

  The Princess glided to his side. “No, I’m not hungry and, physically, I feel nothing. Hardly surprising, I suppose, as I have no body.”

  “What did it feel like to see your body laying there?” Gilbert asked and then, realising how insensitive that might sound, added, “You don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “It doesn’t,” Clementine said with a shrug he couldn’t see. “I’m not sure I felt anything much about my actual body; it was more sadness for Papa.” She sighed at the memory. “He looked so broken.”

  Gilbert nodded his understanding. “I will visit him on his return and, with his - and your - permission, I will examine your body for any signs of trauma.”

  “Yes, that’s an excellent idea. I will come too!”

  Mrs Finn entered at that moment with a tray of steaming coffee and a pile of fruit cake. “That’s an adventurous amount of cake for one person to consume, Mrs Finn.” Gilbert said drily.

  ”You could do with a little adventure, so tuck in,” the housekeeper ‘tsk tsked’ him as she placed the tray on the small serving table and, having given her orders, bustled out of the parlour.

  “Consider yourself scolded, Gilbert Thackeray!” Clementine smirked.

  Once again, Clementine found herself alone. She really hated the night time. She considered for a moment, then thought ‘he’ll never know’ and floated up the stairs to Gilbert’s room. He wasn’t in his bedroom so she peeked into his dressing room and found him wearing just his breeches and his unbuttoned shirt. He was looking into the mirror as he shaved himself and. though she knew it was very wrong of her, she stayed to watch. He looked so unlike his usual self in this state, almost rakish. Clementine had to bite her lip to stop herself giggling. Gilbert Thackeray was the last person she would have described as rakish - but, then, she had never seen him like this before.

  He finished shaving, rinsed off and reached for a towel. He was patting himself dry when he suddenly stopped and looked around the room. “Are you in here?” he asked suspiciously.

  “No!” Clementine replied and then, realising what she had just done, clapped her hand over her mouth.

  “Oh?” Gilbert’s raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “So you are omnipresent now are you, Princess?”

  Clementine sighed pitifully. “If I promise to close my eyes, can I stay?”

  “Absolutely not! It would be highly inappropriate.”

  “Very well,” Clementine tutted. “Then I shall leave.”

  “I had Hetty leave the fire burning in my study,“Gilbert called out to her. Her dejected tone had made him feel a bit guilty. “If you want, you can sit in there.”

  “Thank you. Gilbert Thackeray,” Clementine replied forlornly. “I shall go there.” She passed through the bedroom and down the stairs. She went first into the kitchen to see if anyone was still up and then wandered through the rest of the house, managing to entertain herself by playing ‘ghost’ until she felt certain that Gilbert would be asleep. Then she went back up the stairs and pushed her head through the wood of Gilbert’s bedroom door. Seeing him sleeping soundly, Clementine sat in the chair close by the hearth.

  Despite the strangeness and uncertainty of her situation, Clementine found she was enjoying her time with Gilbert Thackeray. Now that he could hear her, she no longer felt quite so alone; and she was sure that together, they would find a way for her to go back to her body and resume her life.

  She smiled at how he looked in repose. He was no longer the buttoned-up scholar or the unlikely rake. With his hair boyishly tousled and his face relaxed, he looked like someone to whom a young woman might very well lose her heart. Not her, obviously, because she had the Duke waiting for her; but someone she found herself envying all the same.

  “Goodnight, Gilbert,” she whispered and she settled down to wait for morning.

  Chapter Eight

  Although Clementine didn’t sleep as such, she must have drifted off somewhere as the next thingsof which she was aware were the morning light flooding the room and the sounds of Gilbert splashing water in his dressing room. She was just rising from her chair to sneak out of the bedroom before Gilbert sensed she was there when he walked in: naked.

  Immediately, Clementine closed her eyes and held her breath in case she gave herself away. It would be very embarrassing for them both if he realised she was there. Still keeping her eyes tightly closed, she drifted towards the door. Or, at least, that’s where she thought she was going. It was hard to tell. Then something slammed into her.

  Clementine jerked as a fierce bolt of energy surged through her. A rush of intense awareness radiated through her entire being, lifting her and lighting her up from within. The sensation was not of pain but profound pleasure which lasted just a few, blissful seconds before it receded.

  Clementine snapped her eyes open. She was expecting to see the world around her somehow changed forever. What she actually saw was Gilbert Thackeray’s eyes widening in awe as he stared straight at her.

  “My God! Clementine!” He sounded breathless and confused.

  “Gilbert!” she said, still dazed. “That was incredible!”

  “I know,” he said wonderingly. “I walked through you and ….” He stopped, unsure what it was that had happened.

  “I felt it too,” Clementine replied, feeling suddenly shy. “You can see me, can’t you?”

  Suddenly speechless, Gilbert nodded, For a long moment, both aware of the intimacy of what they had just shared, neither of them spoke, And then Gilbert realised he was standing stark naked before a Princess and cold reality washed over him.

  “Close your eyes. woman!” he demanded.

  Clementine smiled as he reverted to his usual, stern self.

  “But, Gilbert, I saw ….”

  “Out!” He pointed to the door. “I shall see you in my study just as soon as I am decently attired. Now, go!”

  Rolling her eyes, Clementine obeyed his command and left.

  “Once again, Gilbert, I don’t know why it is that only you heard my call. As I have said - oh, at least a million times - I tried to get the attention of others but only you responded.” Clementine glared at him. How typical of Gilbert Thackeray to ruin a perfectly lovely
encounter by analysing it to death.

  Gilbert watched her drift around his study, a foot or so above the floor, and marvelled once again at what had happened. “Don’t you see, Clementine? This is a breakthrough!” he told her excitedly. “The fact you are able to leave your body is fascinating in itself but what I witnessed this morning is astounding! I have never heard the likes of it before!”

  “I’m not a scientific study, Gilbert!” she snapped.

  “I know you’re not - but I’m trying to help you and, to do that, I have to understand what is happeneing..” He put down his pen and gave her his full attention. “Tell me what you would have me do.”