Читать книгу Debutantes Don't Date - Kristina O'Grady - Страница 11

Оглавление

Chapter Four

Conversation and laughter quieted to an eerie silence as the foursome emerged from the library. Mrs Barrett had made certain the scene she had been privy to was spread to all her dearest friends. Of course she was shocked, simply shocked, she would say, at Bingham’s behaviour. She couldn’t say anything at all about the American however. Americans are very crass, don’t you know?

Everyone in the room stopped to watch the foursome leave the ball. Once the door shut behind them the room burst into animated conversation with the ladies whispering and giggling behind their fans and the men smiling knowingly to each other. The infamous Lord Bingham had finally been brought down by a woman.

Lord Bingham escorted Grace past the throng of spectators, his hand warm upon her back. She welcomed his support as she passed each curious face, so much so that she found herself leaning into his side. But she stopped dead when the front door opened before them.

What was going on?

The street was lined with horse-drawn carriages. The streetlights held flames, not the steady glow of light bulbs. Snow lay thick on the ground and smoke from many fireplaces filled the air. This was not the London she knew. She had arrived here this afternoon in a cab, and the streets had been packed with noisy cars and trucks. Where were they now?

“Miss Lancaster?” Lord Bingham’s voice was warm against her ear. “Come, our carriage is waiting.” He led her down the steps of the Manor and handed her into the carriage. He followed her in and settled himself beside her. Lord and Lady Harrison were already seated across from them.

She gazed out the window of the carriage and saw the streets filled with more carriages and carts and horses. She looked across to the other seat at her companions. She studied their clothes. She didn’t think they were wearing costumes like she was. She could feel the zipper against her skin. Lady Harrison’s dress had buttons down the back; she noticed them when she was led from the library. This was all too much for her to take in.

Grace frantically dug into the purse attached to her wrist. She fumbled for her cell phone and desperately tried to get a signal. It was no use. There was no signal. Things were not right here. In fact they were very, very wrong! She felt the panic begin to rise in her throat again but before it could overtake her, the carriage stopped and the coachman opened the door to reveal a grand house.

“Welcome to our home, Miss Lancaster,” Lady Harrison said as she turned to welcome her guest down from the carriage.

Grace felt her mouth fall open; she had never seen such a huge house. In the dark it was magnificent, all lit up. Looking all the way up to the roof hurt her neck. She had read all about Mayfair in the romances she used to read, and she always pictured town houses all stuck together, but to actually be here and see these grand houses for herself was something else entirely.

As Lord Bingham led her up the steps with his hand once again on the small of her back, a distinguished-looking gentleman opened the door of the house.

“Good evening, Hoskins, this is Miss Lancaster,” Lady Harrison said to her butler once he had closed the door behind them.

The old man turned his eye to her and bowed at the waist. Grace expected to hear him creak as he straightened but for such an elderly man he seemed agile enough. “Pleased to meet you, miss.”

“It is very nice to meet you too, Mr Hoskins.” She managed a small smile and shook his hand.

“Miss Lancaster will be staying with us for a little while, please have Mrs Walters make up the blue room. We will retire to the drawing room. Have Matilda bring some tea please.”

“Of course, my lady. And Miss Lancaster’s maid? I’ll direct her to the blue room to unpack the Miss’s things.” Hoskins glanced around looking for the obviously missing items.

“Um. We seem to have misplaced Miss Lancaster’s maid and luggage. Perhaps Polly could stand in for the time being and something should be arranged for Miss Lancaster to retire into tonight. I’m sure everything will be sorted out by tomorrow.”

“As you wish, my lady,” Hoskins bowed again before turning to carry out his instructions.

“Come with me, Miss Lancaster,” Lady Harrison said as she linked arms with Grace and pulled her down the hallway. “We need to have a little talk without you interfering, my dears. We’ll see you in the morning,” Lady Harrison called with a grin over her shoulder to the men still standing in the entrance way before shutting the drawing room door behind her.

“It seems to me, Miss Lancaster, that we have a mystery to solve, don’t you think?” Lady Harrison spoke as soon as they both were seated on the floral sofa.

Grace ran her hand along the upholstery. The gold thread shimmered in the candle light, the silky fabric rustled under her hand. She didn’t want to talk to this lady, all she wanted to do was go back to her hotel room, crawl into bed and go to sleep. She was sure if she could just wake up from this crazy dream, everything would be OK.

“Miss Lancaster?”

“Yes.” Grace finally looked up into Lady Harrison’s eyes. “I don’t know what’s happening. Everything is not as it should be. You’re not as you should be. I need to find my boss and my crew. Something is not right.”

“You’re right. Things are not right. Something has happened to you, something that is unexplainable. But, we need to figure out what it is; otherwise I fear my husband will throw you into Bedlam. So, let us start at the beginning. What is the last ‘normal’ occurrence you remember?”

For a moment Grace couldn’t breathe; her throat closed at the word Bedlam. Did they still have such a place? “I remember having a few drinks during my break, I remember the lights going out and I remember hitting my head quite hard on the back of a table, I remember your brother rescuing me from all the eyes of guests who were outraged at seeing more than they should’ve when I was trying to get up. I remember taking your brother into the alcove and kissing him, I remember that nosy old lady and your brother telling her we were going to be married, I remember the library and you and your husband and some old lady who thinks she’s the Duchess of Kensington but isn’t.”

“I didn’t know you hit your head.” Lady Harrison ignored everything else Grace had said, except that.

“Yeah, I don’t really remember why I was under there to begin with, maybe I dropped something? But I do remember cracking my head on it.”

“How did the lights go out?”

“What do you mean, how did they go out? There must have been a power cut.”

“A power cut? What is that? I’m not familiar with the term.”

“You know, the electricity went out. There was no electricity going through the power lines.”

“No. I still don’t know what you mean. What is electricity?”

Grace refused to accept the conclusion her brain was rapidly coming to: that this was not 2014. Grace pulled her cell phone from her handbag and held it out to Lady Harrison to test her theory. “Have you ever seen one of these?”

“What is that?” Victoria said as she held out her hand as though she was reaching for a snake. “May I have a look?”

Grace handed it over reluctantly, unsure what Lady Harrison would do. She gingerly held the phone in her hand and turned it over and over, peering at it so closely her nose was almost touching the screen.

“Here, let me show you.” Grace couldn’t stand the tension any longer. She reached over and turned it on.

Chaos erupted.

Lady Harrison screamed, dropped the phone and jumped onto the sofa. Hoskins ran in welding a fire poker, looking for an attacker. Grace managed to scoop the phone into her bag before anyone noticed and calmly informed Hoskins that it was only a mouse that ran across the floor and under Lady Harrison’s seat. Hoskins cast a suspicious look at Grace, not quite trusting the newcomer, but Lady Harrison had calmed down enough to come down from her perch and with an anxious look at Grace, she apologised to Hoskins for frightening him so.

“I’m not quite sure why I acted like a frightened young miss; the poor little mouse caught me unawares. Have Mrs Walters bring one of the cats up from the kitchen tomorrow morning, will you, Hoskins?”

“Of course, my lady,” he said with a bow and left the room with the fire poker still clenched in his fist.

Once he had shut the door, Lady Harrison once again arranged herself on the sofa and smoothed her skirt. “First things first, tell me what that thing was?”

“So you really haven’t ever seen one?” Her heart sank. This was not good

“No. Never. Could you tell me what it is? I would love to know. I’m fascinated by phenomena that can’t be logically explained.”

This at least Grace could answer. “It’s a cellular telephone but it’s commonly known as a ‘cell phone’. Where I come from we use it to communicate with our friends, family and people at work. We can look things up on the internet and I can even send a tweet.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, too much information? Sorry. Umm, let me think.” Grace rubbed her forehead and tried to come up with an easy way to explain the phone. “OK, I will try to explain it without confusing you too much. Keep in mind that I’m not exactly sure how this all works either, at home you just go to a store, buy a phone, charge it up and use it.”

“Are you telling me that everyone has one of these ‘cell phones’?”

“Well, most people do, yes. Everyone I know does, but I am sure that not everyone has one. There are some places that still can’t pick up any signal.”

“Signal?”

“In certain places around the country, around the world even, there are towers that send out signals the cell phones pick up. If you happen to be too far away from a tower, you can’t pick up the signal and then your phone won’t work. Here I’ll show you.” Grace pulled the phone back out of her bag to show Lady Harrison the signal bars. “See these lines? When I’m close enough to a tower I have four bars, but see how they are not filled in? That is because there is no tower.”

Grace’s voice broke on the last word. Tears and panic clogged her throat, but she managed to ask a very important question. “What year is it?”

“1814,” Lady Harrison said with confidence.

“This can’t be happening.” Grace laid her head in her hands.

Lady Harrison moved closer to her on the settee and gently rubbed her back for a moment before asking, “What year did you come from?”

Grace raised her head and looked her square in the face. “How did you know?”

“Tell me, who in 1814 would be carrying a cell phone in their reticule and have a job organising parties? So, what year did you come from?”

Part laugh, part sob caught in her throat as she answered, “2013. The lights went out at midnight, and when they came back on, everything was different. What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know.” Lady Harrison paused before adding, “This may be the wrong time to ask, but you aren’t still wearing the same fashions in 2013 as we are now, are you?”

Grace burst out laughing in spite of her predicament and she felt the tension leave her body. “No. We are definitely not wearing the same fashions. You don’t want to know what women get around in in my time. The ball I was at before I was sent here was a costume party. This dress is just something I found in a small theatre shop in town which rents costumes.”

“Oh, thank goodness, I would hate the thought of wearing the same clothing for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be wearing whalebone corsets and high-necked gowns in a few years from now, very different from today’s fashions. Oh, wait, umm, that might be a long time from now, I think I’m thinking of Anne of Green Gables and that is in the early 1900s. Oh God, I don’t know, I guess you will just have to wait and see.”

“Well, as long as I’m not wearing this dress that makes me look like I’m with child, I’ll be happy. Whoever thought to dress a female figure in this is beyond my comprehension.” Lady Harrison spent a few moments looking mournfully down at her dress before she asked Grace something Grace couldn’t answer. “Well, I think after this, we are close enough for you to call me Victoria. I never have liked stuffy titles between friends.”

“Thank you. Please call me Grace. No one ever calls me Miss Lancaster.”

“I would be honoured to call you by your Christian name.” Victoria gave her a smile. “Do you know how you arrived here, Grace?”

Tears stung in her eyes and she shook her head. “And no, I don’t know how to get back either.” She would do almost anything for a tissue to blow her nose.

“Grace,” Victoria said, handing her a handkerchief to wipe her eyes, “listen to me. I think if you don’t know how to get back to where you came from, the best thing to do is to accept Jasper’s proposal and marry my brother. He really is not all that bad and besides, you seemed to get along with him well enough tonight, if what he says is true.” She smiled gently. “Did you really get caught by Mrs Barrett?” At Grace’s nod, she continued, “I wish I could’ve seen the look on her face!”

Grace tried to dry her eyes but the thought of being forced into marriage – even if it was to the sexiest man she had ever met – caused tears to seep from the corners and wash her face.

“We will have to come up with a plausible story as to why you are here with no maid or luggage, but I’m sure I can think of something. Not to mention your confusion at the ball…hmmm, let me see. It’s wonderful you hit your head.” Victoria paused when she caught Grace’s look. “Very well, not wonderful, but convenient. We can send for a doctor and say you are confused because of the knock and when he is here, you can ‘recover’ and all will be well!” Victoria clapped her hands in excitement. “But there is still the issue of your lack of maid and chaperone, not to mention clothing.”

Victoria paused again to think but Grace was too amped up to hold her tongue. “I don’t want to marry your brother.”

Grace was grateful Victoria didn’t look insulted as she knew she would need all the friends she could get.

“I don’t know what else you can do, dear. With Mrs Barrett seeing the two of you and all, you won’t have many prospects, at least not desirable ones, come for your hand. And as much as I would love to keep you, my husband would never allow you to stay here if you refuse my brother. You could, of course, go to Lord Lancaster, but if you’re from America, that might not be for the best. I fear if you don’t marry Jasper, you won’t have anywhere to go.” She grasped Grace’s hand. “Please stay.”

Grace took a deep breath. Victoria was right, she had nowhere else to go. If indeed this wasn’t a dream, she would have to marry someone. She didn’t fancy wandering the streets of London with nothing but the dress she wore. It was freezing out there.

She decided there was nothing she could do about it right now. “And my maid? What are we to do about her?”

“You just leave that to me. I think for now what we both need is a good night’s sleep. But first I must call for the doctor. Do you think you could manage a swoon again?”

Debutantes Don't Date

Подняться наверх