Epilogue #2
“My dear departed mother was ill for a very long time with the wasting sickness. I nursed her for over a year, so I had little time for the entertainments at Court,” Meg replied.
“I beg pardon if I startled you my ladies,” Dr. Shrewsbury apologized.
“Mayhap you would oblige me? My young companion, Sir James Winstanley, has not been at Court for quite some time.” Meg surmised that Lady Dorothy had already met Dr. Shrewsbury since she had given him such an unreserved, friendly smile upon their meeting.
“Well, then, we shall endeavor to reacquaint him with the ways of the court,” said Dorothy warmly.
****
Shrewsbury was trying to determine how best to put forth the highly unusual predicament they were all facing to James and Meg. Finally, he hit upon a plan.
“Pray excuse us, Lady Dorothy, there are pressing matters Lady Margaret, Sir James, and I need to discuss. We will see you anon at the entrance to the Dining Hall for the feast this eve. Mayhap I can also ask a favor? Would you be so kind as to ready Lady Margaret for the banquet after our business has concluded?”
“But of course, let it not be said visitors to her Majesty’s court are received discourteously.
I will take her to the Royal Apartments occupied by the Queen’s Ladies-in-waiting and will attempt to instruct her as to her duties and manners at Court.
Do not fret, I will take exemplary care of her.
Fare-thee-well,” replied Lady Dorothy cheerfully as she quickly turned and started to make her way back down the long gilded hall.
****
Shrewsbury turned to James and said, “My good fellow, I shall attempt to acquaint you with the circumstances relating to Lady Margaret, for ‘tis no ruse.”
“Aye, Shrewsbury, I would like to know what is going on very much indeed. I ask you to spare no detail. You must divulge everything.”
Sir James thought that ’twas obvious that Sir Shrewsbury and Lady Margaret were not strangers.
Mayhap Lady Margaret and Shrewsbury suffered from the same fever that affected their reasoning.
They made their way to Sir Shrewsbury’s apartments.
As soon as the door was closed, Sir James demanded, “I need answers, Shrewsbury, where does Lady Margaret come from?”
Shrewsbury sobered and shook his head, “You won’t find them from me, I fear.
I would surely tell you if I could, but I do not know.
” He drew in a deep breath. “I am an immortal being, existing on the space-time continuum, and have somehow facilitated Lady Margaret’s arrival in this century,” he attempted to explain.
“Experience has taught me that there is no easy way of dealing with this, yet I know that I must find a way to explain what has happened to the both of you. Very well, I may as well just come out with the truth. Lady Margaret is a woman from over four hundred years in the future,” he began.
Sir Winstanley eyed his friend as if he had completely lost his wits.
“Ah, I see you think I’ve gone daft, and, for sure, ‘tis hard to believe,” explained Shrewsbury.
“Meg Hardwick is from New York, a place that will one day be a colony of the British Crown. She is not British. She and her people are known as Americans. The city she comes from does not yet exist.”
James exclaimed, “’Tis sheer madness!”
Shrewsbury turned his attention to Meg and said, “Aye ‘tis true, you are indeed at the court of Queen Elizabeth I in London, England at Whitehall Palace. It is August of 1586,” he said with an apologetic smile.
James guessed that the lady felt overwhelmed and light-headed since her skin grew paler as she listened to his words.
All the blood seemed to drain from her body.
****
I can’t believe that Shrewsbury is speaking the truth! What was she supposed to make of that? Dr. Shrewsbury had just confirmed for her that she was in the sixteenth century. Her heart began to pound. She was desperate to make sense out of what she was hearing.
Dr. Shrewsbury explained, “’Twasn’t easy, but I’ve learned to accept my state of existence. Events in time are transmitted through me. Contrary to your belief, ‘tis not a masquerade of my own choosing. I can exist simultaneously at different points in time, in different places.”
“I cannot fathom it!” exclaimed James. “God’s teeth! You must be in jest, Shrewsbury.”
“Ease yourself, lad.”
Meg thought, when viewed calmly and sensibly, it seemed as though she was imagining things!
Where were her wits? But she did recognize both Shrewsbury and Sir James Winstanley.
Could it be possible? Was Dr. Shrewsbury speaking the truth?
Could it be so that he wasn’t simply crazy and that she had indeed travelled back in time?
Shrewsbury turned to Meg saying, “The portrait of Sir James bewitched you, enchanted you, did it not, milady?”
“Yes,” confessed Meg. As she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her and was aware that her face had flushed to a rosy glow.
“You’ve seen my portrait before?” James asked, dumbfounded.
Meg replied, “Yes, it was part of an exhibit of early Renaissance painting held at the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art.
****
Marry, ‘tis not true! Yet James knew that he was attracted to her. There was no gainsaying she was not beautiful, but he looked at her doubtfully. He did not think she could possibly have come from the future. He pondered what Shrewsbury had told him. By all the Saints! He must be mad!
“So, the lady was so enamored of my portrait that it somehow brought her here?” James asked.
“Indeed,” Shrewsbury began. “Were you so smitten with the portrait you could not bring yourself to stay away?”
“Aye,” replied Meg. “Dr. Shrewsbury. Are you responsible for bringing me here?”
“Nay, Meg, what you felt was betwixt the two of you. If you weren’t destined to be here, you wouldn’t be,” he said simply.
“I do not want to be here. I want to be home. I love modern life—the running water, electricity, cell phones, and laptops. You must send me back!”
“I cannot. Only you can send yourself back,” Shrewsbury apologized with a gesture of helplessness.
“How can that be true? I would be home right now if I could!”
“Aye, Meg, but ‘tis you and you alone who has brought you here. You wanted to be here so much. Once you have made an end of what you came here for, you’ll return to your own time,” explained Shrewsbury.
“Your need for her was so strong, James, that she felt it through the portal of the portrait,” he explained as he turned to face his friend.
“But I do not need her. There is no saying she is not comely, but there are many court ladies willing to warm my bed.”
Meg said vehemently, “You are the most obstinate, boastful, pompous man I have ever met! Whatever feeble glow of attraction I felt at one point for you for a fleeting moment has totally disappeared, having experienced your lack of charm and manners in person.”
James’s mouth tightened. “Aye, and I can do without a saucy idle-headed wench!” he retorted.
“Wench? Wench! Did you just call me a wench? You gravely underestimate me, sir. I am not one of your simpering English ladies! I’ll have you know that I am a Professor of English Literature at a reputable University back in my time.”
“That might be all well and true, milady, but whilst you’re here, you’re merely one of Queen Elizabeth’s courtiers,” he shot back.
****
Why does he seem so cold, almost angry? Why was that? Meg had no idea how long it would take, but she would do everything in her power to get back home. Sir James’s face seemed harsh, yet his eyes reflected honesty and integrity. Could she trust him? What other option did she have but to trust him?
How dare he try to insult her intelligence?
She pondered the thought of a lifetime in this world.
She would be reluctant to marry since it would make her answerable to her husband.
She would be expected to obey his wish. She might be forced to marry into a noble family.
She knew Elizabethan girls were quite often beaten into submission and used as pawns to further the ambitions of their families.
The punishment for disobedience was the whipping stool. ..
End of sample chapter