On a Night Black

by Cherie Mitchell

  Darcy’s cough had returned. He busied himself with finding his handkerchief, patting his trouser pockets and keeping his eyes downcast rather than lifting his gaze to meet Elliot’s furious scowl.

  “I died of the measles,” Hortense said softly, filling the space when Darcy refused to fill it himself. “However, now that I’m here rather than at the party where I initially caught the infection, I’ve bypassed that mortal danger. Using the benefit of hindsight, Darcy collected me before I could make the misstep of attending the party that would’ve resulted in my ultimate downfall.”

  “You should be dead?” Elliot’s words were blunt but this was no time to consider pleasantries.

  “I would be dead if I attended the party but I’ve avoided it this time around.” Her eyes were watchful as she gauged his response.

  “Darcy…” Elliot’s thoughts tumbled over one another. If Darcy could pull Hortense safely past her moment of death, why couldn’t he do the same for Annie?

  Darcy held up his hand in a stop gesture, as if he was aware of what Elliot was about to ask. “Before you leap at me and grab me by the throat, let me explain myself. That part of the past had already been tampered with so it wasn’t as if I was meddling with something that wasn’t already a chaotic mess. Yes, I selfishly saved Hortense from eminent death but the Knave’s rude destruction of many things that had passed before that point in time has caused far greater trouble than my one selfish act has done.”

  Elliot had too many questions and not enough answers, which summed up his life in general since the day Darcy Darcel first spoke his name in the rambunctious surrounds of Chaney’s Tavern. “How did the Knave get access to something with the potential to wreak so much havoc?”

  “From what we can ascertain, it appears he infiltrated the corporation at a base level. There is a traitor on board but the corporation is working on that with the utmost haste and urgency.” Darcy clamped his lips shut on further words but his eyes flashed angry fire.

  “Will the Knave’s meddling in the past have any impact on my life?” Of course he meant Annie but he couldn’t allow himself to raise his hopes. Not yet.

  “We don’t know for sure but you can be certain that the corporation is working on it. Your best interests are being considered front and foremost, just as they always have been.”

  “The corporation is working on it,” Elliot mimicked nastily. “Who is the corporation to decide what my best interests are? Don’t I have any say in this?”

  “Unfortunately, no. You have absolutely no say in it at this stage.” Darcy’s mouth shaped a silent apology.

  A deep sense of unfairness gripped Elliot, twisting his gut painfully and sending his emotions into freefall. “I was told that my role in this operation was vital but I could get up and walk out of here now and you could do nothing to stop me.”

  “Please don’t do that, Elliot. The delicate balance has already been upset so badly. It will only make things worse if you toss all of your hard work aside at this point.” Hortense rose from her chair and walked across to lay a gentling hand on his shoulder. “I can see that you’re angry and I can understand that, but none of this was planned.”

  He forced himself to be still rather than shaking off her hand. He had no argument with Hortense Bevier and it would be wrong of him to direct his fury at her. He scowled across the room at Darcy, who seemed to shrink a little beneath the force of his barely contained rage. “You know what I’m going to ask you next.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hortense was still trying to defuse the situation. She’d offered to make a pot of tea but Elliot knew he couldn’t force anything down his throat while he was in this state. Darcy had aged before his eyes, his face gaining years that hadn’t been there just minutes previously. The inventor was speaking again now, trying to explain the current circumstances without giving Elliot the information he really wanted.

  “Your Annie is a difficult case in an already complex setting, Elliot. Her death had far reaching consequences that would be challenging for anyone to reverse.”

  “Yet you were able to remove Hortense before she could go to the party that should have led to her death. I can’t imagine how preventing Hortense’s death could have any less of an effect than removing Annie from the Knave’s murderous clutches.”

  Darcy briefly closed his eyes and the lines on his face settled into deeper grooves. The fire, burning high and hot now, leapt and danced in the grate and cast a cosy orange glow across the room. Hortense had pulled her chair closer to Elliot’s horsehair armchair and was now seated between him and the door, as if hoping to stop him from… what? From leaving the house? From attacking Darcy and forcing him to tell him everything that he knew? From collapsing in despair?

  “Does the corporation know that you skipped back in time to rescue Hortense?”

  Darcy’s eyes instantly snapped open. “No. They don’t know and I’d prefer to keep it that way for now.”

  Elliot snorted. “Well, I’m certainly not going to be the one to tell them. I have no idea who any of the members of the corporation are so I wouldn’t know where to begin.” He threw Hortense an apologetic glance. “Please excuse my blunt questions and sharp tone. I’m not insinuating that the world isn’t a better place without you in it.”

  “I understand.” She angled a cajoling glance at Darcy and inserted a wheedling tone into her voice, giving Elliot the impression she’d used it in her favour in the past. “Can you tell him a little more, Darcy? It’s plain to see that he loved Annie very much. It would be cruel to withhold all that you know.”

  The inventor scratched thoughtfully at his head, which Elliot unkindly thought was probably just a ploy to buy himself more time. His pulse raced and his temples throbbed as he stared into the orange embers of the fire and tried to imagine a world in which Annie still lived and laughed at his side. How could jumping back to save her before she crossed the Knave’s path be so bad?

  Darcy spoke at last. His voice sounded bone weary and the shadows beneath his eyes had darkened considerably. “The Knave always had a special interest in Annie. That interest continues, in part due to his obsession with you.”

  “His obsession with me? Once again, I fail to understand why I hold such a fascination for that madman.”

  “He’s obsessed with you because you will one day instigate his death – or you would have done so if time was to continue on its original path. Now I’m not so sure.” Darcy made a faint, wistful sighing sound. “I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

  An unpleasant thought crept into Elliot’s mind, where it crouched toad-like and refused to budge. “If you’re no longer sure of anything, how can you guarantee that I will return to 2020 once all of this is over?”

  “I can’t guarantee it but I can hope for it. This has grown more complex than I could have ever imagined.”

  “Is this what you meant when you said that everything could be fixed but it couldn’t always be returned to its original state?”

  “Did I say that? I suppose I did.”

  Elliot persisted. “I’m trying to put all of this together in my own head and you need to help me out here. If the Knave has meddled with events back here in the 19th century, could those changes have a roll on effect right through to the 21st century?”

  Darcy didn’t immediately answer and Elliot turned to Hortense, seeking a slight nod or some other indication that his thoughts were on the right track. However, she looked worried rather than reassuring.

  “I guess that’s my answer,” Elliot said without emotion. He stood up and began to pace around the room while Hortense and Darcy watched him warily. “What about your meddling, Darcy? Has bringing Hortense forward and avoiding her early death altered the future? What if the two of you have a child for instance, a child that would never have existed if you had left things as they were?”

  Hortense gasped and put her hand to her throat while Darcy blushed a deep, hot red before hiding his face in his handkerchief. “
Steady on, old chap. You might be jumping the gun a bit there.”

  “Hear me out,” Elliot said, having found his articulate stride now. “What if you did have a child together and that child grew into an adult who…” He paused before throwing his hands up into the air to indicate infinite expansiveness. “Who did something that hadn’t happened in history if I was looking back from 2020 at this very moment? What if your child grows up to be Prime Minister, or invents something that massively changes the world for better or worse? He or she will undoubtedly be a creative soul with parents such as you and Hortense.”

  “There will be no child,” Hortense said firmly. “So there’s no point in any of us sauntering down that unlikely path.”

  Something else was now niggling at Elliot’s thoughts, something that Ramona had once said. “Has Ramona ever been here in the time machine? She gave me the impression that she’d used it on a few occasions.”

  “Not to this exact time, but she has travelled to years close by.”

  “And she has that privilege because she’s the daughter of a senior member of the corporation? Am I right?”

  “You’re right,” Darcy said glumly. He was hunched gnome-like in his chair now and staring miserably at the fire. “I didn’t think you would be this upset about a few small sleights of hand.”

  “Sleights of hand? Is that what you’re calling it now? You pull someone back from the jaws of death, fiddle with life changing events, and it’s a mere magician’s trick to you?” The room was suddenly too small, too hot, too claustrophobic. He wrenched open the door, bringing Darcy to his feet.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I think I need to be by myself for a while.”

  “The night is stormy and cold. Please don’t go, Elliot.” Hortense was now standing too, her hand on Elliot’s arm as she pleaded with him to stay. “Stay here in the warm and dry. Nothing ever feels quite so bad in the morning.”

  “That’s a flimsy sentiment in the circumstances. The morning after Annie died was as bad as the night before.”

  She uttered a soft sigh and dropped her hand. “I understand.”

  “If you leave now, will you ever return?” Darcy sounded hoarse, as if he’d been running a long distance and his breath had not yet caught up with him. A tiny, nervous tick had appeared over one hairy eyebrow, adding a tense animation to his face.

  “I haven’t thought that far ahead. Hey, I know – why don’t you tell me?” He didn’t try to temper the deep sarcasm within his comments. “You’re the one in control of the future. Oh, and the past too. We can’t forget that you have the ability to do whatever you like in the past, playing God with people’s lives as if it’s your right.” Elliot knew he sounded bitter but he was bitter. A simple yes from Darcy would have him travelling back to the evening before Annie died. He would rescue her and then they could get on with living the life they’d always planned.

  “I’m sorry. I know how you must be feeling but I can’t do what you want me to do and I can’t tell you any more than what I’ve already disclosed. I’m going to be in enough trouble as it is once the corporation discovers what I’ve done.” He looked so miserable that Elliot almost felt sorry for him.

  The rain launched a sudden attack on the windowpane and a small torrent of water streamed down the chimney, causing the flames to sizzle and smoke beneath a dumping of soot. “You might need to get a chimney sweep in to see to that. I’d see to it myself but I’ve moved onto bigger and better things.” Elliot said lightly, feeling some of his useless anger dissolve. The trouble was that he could see Darcy’s point of view, or at least to some degree. If Annie came back, it would make him the happiest man alive but how would her family cope with her reappearance? What would her friends do? How could he explain such a thing after all this time? And then of course there was Ramona… All of which led him to his next question. “How will you explain Hortense’s presence back here after she supposedly succumbed to the measles? Doesn’t everyone think she’s dead?”

  “Hortense has always been one of those people who comes and goes as she pleases. No one ever really knows where Hortense is or what she’s doing at any given time. Her absence is easily explained and her return won’t be questioned.” Darcy smiled at her fondly, the contents of his heart plain to see in his eyes. “It’s all part of her charm.”

  Hortense didn’t respond to Darcy’s explanation. She kept her calm blue eyes on Elliot. “Will you stay? We can talk again in the morning, once you’ve had time to come to terms with what Darcy has told you.”

  “I’ll stay. I’m not keen on venturing back out into the rain.” He hid his yawn behind his hand, suddenly exhausted by the events of the day. “If you don’t mind, I will see myself off to bed. I need some time alone.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  He slept restlessly, dreaming first of Annie, then of Ramona, and then skipping back to Annie again before the Knave’s cruel features loomed over him and startled him awake. He stared out at the still, dark room, listening to his own heart pound in his ears above the silence of the sleeping house. The dream had been so real, as if the man was right here in the room with him. He pushed himself up on his elbows and gazed drowsily at the greyish hue of the curtain. It was already light outside but the sun had not yet pushed its way through the smoky air to penetrate the fabric of the drapes. The events of yesterday swirled around him as he remembered his angry conversation with Darcy and Hortense in the parlour. It still felt unfair that Darcy had used the time machine for his own selfish advantage yet he refused to allow Elliot to do the same – but it wasn’t as if Elliot could do anything to change it. He didn’t know anything about the time travel device and he certainly wouldn’t trust his own ability to choose a time past and successfully manoeuvre the machine to that exact point in history. Knowing his luck, he would probably end up back in Peckham House, locked in a cell and trapped against his will with the raving lunatics.

  He idly wondered what Ramona was doing now, recalling with a smile how she’d danced through his dreams. She was an early riser and she was probably up and out of bed, busily beginning her tasks for the day with her usual solemn and focused intent. Perhaps he could try to contact her with the Com-Dec app… she had told him to call her if he needed anything. Her opinion on the Hortense situation suddenly mattered and this seemed as good a reason as any to call her. He swung his legs out of bed to grab the tablet from where he’d left it on the dresser.

  Ramona had gone over the intricacies of using the app with him before he left but he knew his biggest problem would be connecting, and then once connected the issue would be keeping the connection. He’d seen it go wrong often enough when Ramona attempted to contact Darcy. Eager to start, he sat down on the edge of the bed and hit the Com-Dec icon on the tablet desktop.

  He didn’t think it was going to connect at first. The device buzzed and blurred alarmingly, as if it were about to expire and lay dead in his hand, and then suddenly the line connected and Ramona’s blue eyes were peering anxiously through the screen at him. “Elliot, is everything ok? I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

  She was a breath of sunshine on an otherwise gloomy morning and he couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “Everything is fine and dandy. I just wanted to talk something over with you.”

  Her expression settled into one of watchful caution, unknowingly mimicking Hortense’s face of the night before. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Have you ever heard of a lady named Hortense Bevier?” He didn’t intend to give too much away, happy to honour Darcy’s request that no one should know what he’d done until he was ready to tell them himself, but he was intrigued to hear if Ramona knew anything about the elegant, soft-spoken woman.

  “Hortense? Yes, I’ve heard of her.”

  “And?”

  She tutted gently and shook her head. “Elliot, you know there are some things that I just can’t talk to you about.”

  “Ok, we’ll try another approach
because I’m determined to get you talking to me about something. I know I was brought forward to prevent several murders before they occurred, which did change future events for the better, but I had no idea that this was as commonplace as it seems to be. Do you know anything about alternative versions of the future? Or about the Knave meddling with past circumstances, events that happened before the time I’m standing in right now?”

  “Yes…” She was watching him closely. He could tell she was trying to gauge just how much he knew before giving him any information he wasn’t allowed access to. A conversation with Ramona was always going to be a clumsy lope through a field of brambles on his part, unless he could somehow find his way to an easier and less prickly route.

  “Darcy told me. About the Knave and the consequences of fiddling with incidents already passed.”

  She nodded slowly and opened her mouth, as if she was about to say something. Elliot cursed as the screen suddenly blanked out and went black. “Ramona! Are you there?” He shook the tablet before stabbing his finger at the Com-Dec icon several times in rapid succession, desperate not to lose her. “Ramona?”

  The screen fizzed and hiccupped and then she was back. “I’m here. See if you can get Darcy to look at fixing the communications while you’re there. This is hopeless.”

  “I will, although he has a lot of other things on his mind right now. Anyway, Darcy tried to explain that we can use the time machine to experience alternative versions of the future, based on how events are altered, removed, or changed in the past or the present. I guess it’s something similar to how I was brought in to stop the Knave from murdering those women, but I never considered that there could be more than one case like that. The future isn’t guaranteed and it never can be, even if you’re just moments away from it.” His tongue felt tied in knots as he tried to state this nonsensical idea sensibly, as if the words themselves came complete with fishhooks and snarled loops of cotton ready to trap and confuse the unwary or uninitiated.