Chapter 20 #2
“Yes.” The words jolt Leo out of the stillness we were in, and he rushes to me, offering his arm, which I take.
I don’t know that I’ll ever get over how nice it is for him to always offer me his arm.
Yes, I can walk on my own, but it’s so nice to have the connection to Leo when we’re out.
Like we’re a unit, and also like he needs to keep touching me when we’re together.
It makes me feel wanted, which is not always something I always got back in the future.
Not only did no one want my research, but it seemed like no one wanted to date me, either.
(To be entirely fair to the men of the present, I’ve been accused of spending too much time with books about the past to notice anyone, but that’s just an opinion from my grad school roommate.) I’ve never felt like that with Leo, though.
I might still mostly think he’s more interested in how different I am than me as a person, but I don’t doubt the intensity of his interest. And his interest makes me feel warm.
It has me hoping it’s because of me, and not just my novelty.
The carriage ride is uneventful and quick (with a slight delay as Leo had to figure out how to get my wide ass in the seat; the answer being making Anne sit with the coachman and making me kneel diagonally in the middle of the carriage), and too soon we’re at Berkeley Square.
Too soon, because I prefer being alone with Leo, even though that defeats the whole purpose of us spending time together.
“Ready for more balls?” Leo asks as he helps me out of the carriage, a suppressed smile letting me know he’s thinking about our earlier conversation regarding balls. But if he thinks I’m going to back away from that, he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does.
Or the new, time travelling me, at least.
“I’m always ready for balls.” I leave Leo standing by the open door of the carriage, delighting in my foray into innuendos. They are fun; I can see why so many historical figures wrote them into the saucy letters to their lovers.
I hear his laugh booming behind me, getting louder as he jogs to catch up with me.
Leo grabs my arm gently. “That is because you are very curious. In the most excellent manner.”
“Hmm. Wait until you suffer through this party with me before you make that determination.”
“Nonsense. You are fantastic at a party,” Leo says loyally, as the front door to the mansion opens in front of us.
“Don’t put any money on that,” I mumble as we walk through the house. Me sideways sometimes, because of my absurdly horizontal dress.
The excess here is enough to take me aback even though I study pictures and descriptions of these houses.
But it’s a little more blinding in person; the gold and precious stones glittering even in the candlelight and early electricity.
Every available surface is filled up with the same messages: we’re better than you, we’re richer than you, we have more taste than you.
And don’t you forget it.
The message is conveyed with paintings, chandeliers, upholstered furniture made of the most expensive materials by the biggest names. And all with enough gilt to cover an entire herd of elephants, if it were morally acceptable to gilt elephants. I’m sure the owners of this house have tried.
Even the ceiling has elaborate golden molding, in case anyone looks up thinking they’re going to get a break from being beaten over the head with the owner’s wealth.
The decorations are at the same level as the palaces I’ve stayed in, but I guess my mind expects that for monarchs. These are mere lords.
We keep walking past rooms that look dressed up for our visit, for us to only spend a few minutes in each, until we get to French doors at the back of the house.
A trek that has me sweating in my dress because it weighs about eighty pounds, and because the walk is long, despite the fact that we’re only in one house.
“Are you ready to help me find a wife?”
“Yeah. So ready.” I grit my teeth, because of the uncomfortable dress and not because of the thought of Leo marrying someone else.
A thought that has become more and more offensive to me the longer I spend time with the man.
“I’m going to wingman the shit out of you tonight,” I whisper under my breath.
Leo hears and gives me a strange look, but at least he already knows why. It’s relaxing to know there’s one person here I don’t have to watch every word I say around.
Leo opens the door for me and I try to go through it, but get stuck. How I could forget I’m as wide as a basketball player is tall, I’ll never know. It’s probably a testament to the human mind and what it can endure when it has no choice.
I turn sideways to enter while I reflect about how I’m getting used to the Victorian era.
I’ve been lucky so far, aside from the constant, crushing anxiety of almost being found out, but I’m also a guest of the queen.
As much as I’m hoping Cambridge will hold answers on how I get home, I need to acknowledge that it might not work.
If I’m here forever, I need to run away from this. Because they will find out I’m a fraud…and soon. Before that happens, I’ll need to figure out how to survive without royal protection.
If I’m stranded here, I will use all my knowledge of the past to buy stock, bet on outcomes, and otherwise manipulate people into giving me money. Become a professional blackmailer. And if the universe didn’t want me to interfere like that, or turn evil, it should have kept me in the right time.
But if I am stranded here, could I be with Leo? It’s not fair to ask him to wait. By the time I resign myself to being stuck, he’ll have his heir and be working on his spare. And even if we did start something, I could be torn from this world at any point.
“Shall we see the most wondrous garden in all of London?” Leo interrupts my thoughts, which have veered into the stressful again.
“Sure. Who doesn’t like a garden?” Then I turn to see the “most wondrous garden in London” and wish I could crawl back inside and hide behind a naked Greek statue, where reality can’t hurt me.