Epilogue
… or sometime between the Titanic sinking and Will and Emily turning up in New York …
“So what you’re saying is that”—Sebastian sat on the sofa across from Louisa—“your brother, London’s most eligible bachelor, has secretly been in love with Lady Cassiopeia, London’s most desired debutante, all this time?”
“Well, I don’t know about most eligible bachelor; that comes down to taste.” Louisa winked at him. “But yes, it appears so.”
“And now they’re eloping to Gretna Green.”
“I’m afraid my family shall be racked by scandal quite soon.” Louisa put down her cup of tea. “If you’re not certain you wish to associate yourself—”
“On the contrary. It only makes it more entertaining.” He came over to her and took her hand. “Now that I think of it, Gretna sounds entertaining.”
“Oh, no. Mama would die if two of her children eloped—”
“Yes, that would be unfortunate.”
A cough came from the open door to the parlor. “Visitors for you, my lady,” the butler said. “They do not appear to be properly outfitted at all, and will not say who they are, but they will also not go away.”
“Well, how did they get here?”
“In Lord Farenham’s carriage. The driver says he’d been sent to pick up an … Emmeline? And they claim to know her.”
Louisa jumped to her feet. “Yes, yes, I’ll see them!” And she and Sebastian ran to the front door.
The butler wasn’t wrong. Louisa wasn’t sure where the two visitors came from, but it certainly wasn’t London’s polite society.
The woman was in her thirties and wore all men’s clothes: a loose shirt, baggy pants, and a brown jacket, the only thing that appeared somewhat dry.
She had a dark blue sack swung over her shoulder and long brown hair hastily drawn into some kind of a loosely hanging bun.
The dark-haired man, about a decade older, was slightly better off, wearing appropriate clothes, at least, although the fashion was still strange, and they were dirty and damp.
“I’m very sorry for the disturbance,” he said in a strange accent Louisa needed a moment to pinpoint. He sounded like Emmeline! “Would you be Lady Louisa Ascombe?”
“That’s me,” she confirmed.
The woman looked at Sebastian for a second, squinted and scrunched her nose, then turned to Louisa. “What Will means to say is, we gotta talk, but if you have a hot cup of coffee and maybe a blanket, we’d really appreciate that, too.”
“Of course.” Louisa moved to the side and gestured them in, then shouted for the butler to go fetch provisions. “My goodness, what happened to you?”
“The Newgate Prison, apparently,” the woman said as they walked into the parlor.
“Last time I checked, they didn’t douse people with water in there,” Sebastian said, slowly following them.
“That part is a much longer story.” The woman inspected the sofa as if deciding if she should risk sitting down and smudging it, then did so anyway. “Emily, by the way. I’m Emmeline’s aunt.”
“And I’m Will, her father,” the man said.
Louisa and Sebastian looked at each other.
“Emmeline told me her family was lost,” Sebastian said.
“Yeah, fair enough,” Emily said. “So, where is she?”
Louisa frowned. “I’m not certain. If you came from the prison, didn’t you meet her there?”
“Oh, no.” Emily slid her hair over her shoulder. “What did she do now?”
“Nothing,” Sebastian said. “Her fiancé got arrested, and she went to visit him.”
“Which was last night,” Louisa added. “I hadn’t heard from her since, but I assumed she was busy figuring out his release.”
“Figuring out …” Emily scrunched her nose again. “Oh, no.” She turned to Will. “I hate to say this, but I think your daughter isn’t here anymore, either.”
“What do you mean?” Sebastian asked. “Where did Emmeline go?”
A servant arrived with tea and scones; Emily picked up one, sniffed it as if she’d never seen a scone before, and tentatively bit into it.
“It appears some of our assumptions were wrong,” Will drawled. “Would you two mind telling us how you know Emmeline, and what exactly has happened since she’d arrived here?”
Louisa looked at Sebastian, who shrugged in a might-as-well fashion. “All right. I met her last summer …”
The visitors gulped their tea and devoured their biscuits, and while Louisa and Sebastian interchangeably explained their story, a few fresh, dry pieces of clothing, as well as blankets, were brought and administered.
Once everything was cleared up—although Louisa still had no idea how or why Emmeline’s family suddenly got here—Emily and Will thanked them, and they were accompanied back to the door.
“Is Emmeline going to be all right?” Louisa asked.
“I’m sure she will be,” Emily said. They turned to leave, but she cast one last look back, frowned at Sebastian again, then clicked her fingers. “Oh, yeah! You do look a bit like my husband.” And she walked after Will.
Sebastian tilted his head. “That is one bizarre family.”
“Nope,” Emily shouted without turning back. “Just time travelers.”