‘How strange… and you study for what reason?’ he asked. I could see that he was trying to understand.
‘To get a job I want. I wanted to work in historical research; maybe stay in academia. Maybe work at a museum. I suppose I didn’t think that I’d end up doing so much hands-on historical research,’ I said. ‘I don’t know if I’ll ever get home. I don’t know if I’ll ever finish my course. Or what anyone thinks about me being gone. I don’t know if there’s been a police investigation, if I’m a missing person…’ I shrugged, trying not to let despair at my own helplessness get the better of me.
‘What strange times you live in. University? You mean Oxford or Cambridge?’ his brow furrowed. ‘I know that there are a couple in Scotland, too. But they don’t admit women. Or, at least they didn’t in my time,’ he added, nodding. ‘I suppose that has been a development?’
‘Very much so. Actually, in my time, there are lots of universities. In every city, and many towns. Not just Oxford and Cambridge. And all sorts of people study lots of different subjects, so they can get qualifications for jobs.’
‘So, everyone in your time works? At a job?’ William frowned.
‘Mostly. Unless they can’t for some reason, or they don’t have to, because they’re very wealthy.’
‘Do people still own estates? Like Trevarron?’ he asked. ‘Are there still lords?’
‘Yes. There are still lords and ladies. Still a royal family. Butthey’re not the only wealthy and powerful ones. Some people grow powerful from business or their jobs.’
‘Fascinating.’ William widened his eyes. ‘Edith would have loved to go to university.’
‘Yes, I can imagine that she would have.’ I nodded sadly, thinking of Edith Trevarron, William’s bright, kind sister. ‘Being away from your own time is terrible, but I found that it was also strangely beautiful,’ I added. ‘I met you, for one thing. And Edith. I never dreamed for a second that I’d be able to live in a different time in history. It was an experience I’ll never forget?—’
‘Edith.I cannot leave her with that animal!’ William interrupted me. ‘I have only just realised… if I am not there to forbid her marriage to Simon Favisham… or if I am not there to protect her at all, what will happen?’
‘I know. I don’t know what we can do about that. I’d far rather that she was here with us than be with him,’ I replied. ‘She would have been in danger. But…’ I didn’t want to say it; the truth that I knew would break his heart.
‘As would I. I left her in the hands of a monster before, Tegan. I cannot abandon her again.’ He stared at me, horror in his eyes. ‘Please tell me that you have a solution. We have to help Edith. We have to.’
‘William, it’s more than 100 years since 1755. Edith is… She is no longer with us, by now,’ I said, gently. I didn’t want to say the wordsEdith is dead.
But she was. Whatever awfulness her life had become without her elder brother to protect her, we had no way of helping her in 1867. We would have to go back to 1755 to do that, and I had no idea if it was even possible.
I thought of my dream. Perhaps I had been dreaming of Edith; trapped in a marriage she didn’t want. Perhaps it wasn’t me in the dream at all?
‘I don’t care. Bend time. Visit your portal. Enact your sorcery. Whatever it takes, I need to protect her.’ William’s voice was stony. ‘I will do as you ask, without question. I will accept a life without being a lord. I will forgive you for dragging me here, in time. I will wander the world in any time as a tramp, if that is what it takes. But, help me save Edith from a life with Simon Favisham. That is what I ask in return.’
ELEVEN
We walked back to Nancy’s cottage in silence.
I pondered what William had said. I didn’t want to leave Edith with Simon Favisham either. He’d already assaulted her at the ball we’d attended together, and then proposed to her, intending to steal her fortune and disinherit William as lord by accusing him of assault and murder. The knowledge that Edith was now dead was also strange. I’d just seen her, a few days ago, but in the time I was in now, more than a hundred years had passed since. It was hard to process.
Nancy let us in and ushered us to the fireplace to get warm. I explained, briefly, where we’d been. She clearly knew what William and I had been up to – why else would we spend the night away in a freezing cold gamekeeper’s hut?
‘There’s ’ot water, if you want it,’ she commented, drily. ‘Tin bath, behind the curtain.’
‘You take it,’ William said to me; I wondered if Nancy would perceive the cold distance between us.
‘Thank you,’ I replied, politely. I wondered how long we would be in this state of truce.
As I went behind the curtain and started to remove my clothes, I mused that William didn’t understand all this because he hadnever been in a situation where he’d had to protect his identity from anyone or risk harm. When I accidentally travelled to 1755, I had to lie about who I was, otherwise I would have found myself unprotected, hungry and at the mercy of the elements. William had never faced that kind of hardship before. William had never had to lie about who he was to survive.
Until now.
I unpinned my hair and got into the warm bathwater, involuntarily letting out a long sigh. I could tell that Nancy had used the bathwater before me, but, at this point, I didn’t care. It was such a relief to be warm again, and the water was comforting. I submerged my head under the water and came up again, taking in a breath.
I wondered whether William would start to understand who he was, aside from his title.
I reached for the bar of soap Nancy had left in a dish on the stone floor. It looked handmade, and smelt pleasingly herbal, like rosemary or bay. I rubbed it over my skin and my hair, lathering it as best I could before submerging myself again and rinsing the soap out.
As I washed, I suddenly heard the sound of a piano playing. I sat still, listening, a tingle of pleasure and surprise under my skin.
