Chapter 18 #2
That hadn’t lessened his interest in things of that nature, though, and he wasn’t entirely unhappy to have a chance to walk around the grounds of a castle that he was fairly certain had been built as an Elizabethan folly.
‘Twas for certain it hadn’t been looming over the countryside during his youth.
“Not too many people here,” Harriet said, sounding slightly concerned.
“It looks like rain,” Sam said with a shrug, “and, as you said, they also don’t open until next week.
We probably won’t see anyone but the chief organizers today, but perhaps your parents are a bit more involved in this part of it than we realize.
Let’s go do a careful bit of scouting and see what turns up. ”
She nodded, though she didn’t look particularly convinced.
Sam fetched her out of the car, then reached for her hand, which she didn’t seem to mind.
He had a quick look around them but saw nothing particularly noteworthy.
Vendors were staking out prime spots and there were a few others dressed in attire appropriate for the locale.
He didn’t recognize anyone from Chevington, thankfully, though that was yet another group of souls he and Theo had made a point of avoiding.
Too much history there between their families for anyone’s comfort, no doubt.
As for more quotidian matters, he supposed he and Harriet might not stand out completely, but he couldn’t help but wish he’d been wearing clothes that would have allowed him to blend in more easily.
He steadfastly refused to think about the times at the beginning of his and Theo’s career of scampering through the centuries when they’d arrived in a different time period without the appropriate accoutrements.
That lesson had been learned very quickly and subsequently given them access to places where they likely shouldn’t have gone.
He shook his head. He thought too much about too many things. He glanced at Harriet to find she was watching him, hopefully not closely enough to see those thoughts crossing his face.
“Why don’t we make a circle around the castle to determine the size of the battlefield?” he suggested, opting for a distraction. “We can go inside the castle proper later if they’ll let us.”
“All right, but if my parents are hiding inside, I don’t want to go find them.”
He smiled. “Point taken. Let’s leave the innards of the castle to the merchants and concentrate on what’s to be noticed outside.”
She nodded, though she didn’t look any less unnerved.
He took her hand, then walked with her around the field where a few enthusiastic lads seemed to be setting up for a decent bit of jousting, contests with the sword, and the general medieval activities of archery and hawking.
He would have commented on the quality of the swordplay on display, but his phone interrupted him. He pulled up a text from Oliver.
Rental car in village car park, expired ticket from yesterday on dash.
Sam had the sinking feeling those were not necessarily good things. He considered, then sent back a question. Costumes?
Just maps. Will keep looking.
“Sam?”
He shoved his phone in his pocket. “Oliver found your parents’ car,” he said brightly. “I’m sure they’re just wandering around here getting comfortable with the venue.”
“Probably,” she said carefully. “I’m sure they have a UK phone, but I didn’t think to get their number yesterday.”
“I’ll ask Oliver if he can find it, then we’ll call them and see if they want a decent pub supper tonight. My treat.”
She nodded, but she didn’t look particularly relieved. He texted Oliver the request, then put his phone back where Harriet wouldn’t make off with it.
“Why don’t we take another turn about the edge of the field and memorize a few heraldic symbols on display? Your father will appreciate the effort, I’m sure.”
“If you like.”
Sam put on his most reassuring smile and started the trip around the edge of the field again, but his thoughts were running in directions he didn’t care for.
It was entirely possible that Harriet’s parents had overindulged at the local pub, taken a room at the inn, then overslept.
That they’d parked in the village and not at the venue wasn’t unthinkable either, particularly if they hadn’t wanted anyone to suspect them of being medieval re-enactment aficionados.
But he couldn’t imagine Harold Brewster overstaying his parking pass by almost an entire day.
“What about this bit of forest?”
Sam came back to himself to find that they were indeed facing a decent thicket of trees that his father never would have allowed so close to his hall.
Times had changed, though, and a bit of shelter from the drizzle that had started up wasn’t unwelcome.
He nodded and wandered onto a path that was indeed lovely and well-trodden.
There were even the occasional spots where one could have stepped off the path and—
He stopped suddenly and looked to his right.
There, just off the main path, was a faery ring. He realized he’d almost pulled Harriet off her feet, so he smiled and made certain she was situated properly with her feet on the ground and her jacket pulled up to her chin. He reached up and tucked a lock of hair into her bun, just to be thorough.
She was looking at him as if she’d never seen him before. “What is it?”
“Ah,” he said, attempting another smile, “there’s an interesting bit of flora over here I’d like to take a look at. All for the cause of keeping litter off our footpaths, what?”
She frowned, but followed him on his three-pace journey to the faery ring just the same. She then caught her breath.
“There’s a snowdrop blooming over there,” she whispered. “They don’t bloom this late in the year, do they?”
“Not usually,” he managed, though anything was possible if a bit of weather had been leaching into the current century from a different, icier period of time.
He caught Harriet before she simply stepped inside that ring of what he imagined had been all snowdrops earlier in the current year. His grab for her had perhaps been unnecessary given that she’d first frozen in place, then stepped backward so quickly that she’d almost knocked him on his arse.
He steadied them both, then looked with resignation at the doorway that had suddenly appeared inside that magic ring of plants, shimmering in the sunlight that filtered down through the trees.
“What,” Harriet wheezed, “is that?”
“Faire trickery,” Sam said promptly. He turned her to him and pulled her into his arms. “A bit too magical for my taste, but they’ll likely make a few quid for it at some point during the festivities.”
He wasn’t sure if he were gratified or insulted by the way she was clinging to him, though he was fairly certain it wasn’t because of the sheer magnetism of his poor self. He shifted to have the best look he could manage into that doorway and suppressed the urge to swear.
It could be said that when it came to what was possible to know and do in the current century, he had a few gaps.
He had, for example, never taken the time to hop on a plane to Rome for a long weekend of eating as much gelato as possible.
He’d never gone to Paris to sample pastries, or to Portugal to lie in the sun on a gorgeous bit of beach, or to any number of other places in the world to become familiar with things he’d only read about.
His life was full of busyness and fussy details about too many things, to the point that his mother, did she know the true extent of it, would have gently put her hands on his shoulders, then instructed him to slow down, breathe, and smell a few roses.
But if there were one truly outlandish thing that made up his current life, it was that he knew exactly what a gate through time looked like.
Not only that, he was remarkably adept at determining from just a peek through to the other side where—or, rather, when—he would arrive if he stepped through it.
And he would have bet the Aston Martin he hadn’t yet purchased that on the other side of that gate lay the century of his birth. He was also certain that Harriet’s parents had stepped through that gate because he could see Petunia Brewster’s conical headwear lying under a tree on the other side.
It was one thing to worry about his brother being off in the wilds of the saints only knew when without supervision; it was another thing entirely to think of Harriet’s parents doing the same.
He could only hope that they’d actually been dressed appropriately for whatever century they might have actually stumbled into. And at least it was May and not January. Things could have been much worse. He would need to go after them, of course—
Leaving him unable to go after his brother.
He closed his eyes briefly, then pulled back from Harriet and put on his best smile.
“’Tis chilly here in the shade. Why don’t we go find a bit of sunshine?”
She looked as shocked as he had the first time he had witnessed a doorway in the fabric of time standing there half open in the middle of a field. He’d shaken his bloody head for a solid fortnight.
He said nothing more at the moment but instead took Harriet’s hand and pulled her away from trouble.
She came along, which he appreciated, but he could hear the wheels turning.
Again, he didn’t blame her. He had endlessly discussed with Theo all the things they’d seen over the course of their lives that hadn’t made sense until the moment they’d looked through a shimmering doorway into a different world.
“Why don’t we drive back to the inn,” Sam said, wondering if he could possibly make that sound as appealing as he needed it to. “Oliver can spy on your parents and keep them safe whilst we pretend we haven’t been investigating their illicit activities.”