Chapter 20
By the time they made their final visit to the cottier village, the cold weather had warmed and melted the snow. The thaw made Reese grateful they’d skated when they had. The road was a little iffy.
She had braced for that familiar tug of mud on her boots and worried about the ridiculous riding habit getting dirty. Instead, gravel covered the village road and the space between the buildings. Water ran along lined gutters at the edges of the paths instead of pooling.
“This is brilliant,” she called to Gareth, who was dismounting.
“Your engineer suggested it,” the earl said. “We most certainly do not wish any possibility of that vile pit returning.”
The cottiers had noticed their arrival and hurried from their homes and the community hall. When they saw Gareth and Ellen, they immediately bowed or curtsied, but the children rushed to Jem.
“Do you have time for a story, Mr. Taylor?” a boy cried, already towing him toward the large building.
“You have lessons,” a woman said, hurrying to join them. “But it would be a rare treat if you had the time.”
“I’ll catch up with you, then.” Jem laughed as the other children pulled or pushed him along.
“Have fun,” Reese said with a wave.
“He will make such a wonderful father,” Ellen whispered.
“Yes, he will.” Reese put a hand over her abdomen.
“This way,” Catherine said, a footman following with her bag.
The village looked so different without the snow, harsher and yet more practical, too. Smoke rose from chimneys in thin, steady lines, and a dog barked before giving chase to something between two cottages.
Catherine led them to the new row of homes and approached one in the middle. The stonework matched the others but didn’t yet bear the soot patina common in this time. A small stack of timber lay neatly piled beside the door, bound with twine. Reese stopped when she saw it.
“These are staves,” Gareth said. “Cooper may not be fast, but his workmanship is excellent. I imagine he will be even better when he can use his feet.”
“It’s his lordship,” a youthful voice called from inside. “And her ladyship.”
Bertie tore open the door and threw himself into Gareth’s arms, surprising everyone but the earl. The boy must have really bonded with Gareth during the trip from London. He did the same with Catherine, who laughed. Then the boy saw Reese.
“Mrs. Taylor!” he said, breathless. “Da’s working.”
“I can see that.” Reese smiled down at him. “You look busy yourself.”
He puffed up a little. “I’m helping. I fetch things.”
“But what about your studies?” she asked.
“Da said I can learn my letters and numbers once he’s on his feet, but he needs me now.” Bertie took her hand and then Catherine’s. “Come inside. He’s waiting.”
William sat tall in a chair, a pair of crutches within reach. He ducked his head and did his best to bow while seated. His color was so much better, his eyes clearer, and the hollows from his days of starvation had filled in some.
“My lady. Mrs. Taylor. You are welcome.” William looked past them. “Is his lordship here?”
“He’s examining your work.” Reese leaned closer. “He’s impressed.”
William’s expression brightened as if she had given him a special gift. “‘Tis better than I deserve, but I would do anything for him, giving me a chance like this.”
“I need to see how your feet are doing.” Catherine motioned for him to lift them.
“How is it a woman knows so much about doctoring?” William asked.
“We’re more progressive in America,” Reese couldn’t help saying, since Catherine spoke with an American accent after having spent a great deal of time in the United States and holding joint citizenship.
“May I assist?” Gareth asked from the doorway.
Reese took it as an invitation to leave.
“The village needs barrels, my lord,” William was saying. “For grain, of course, but for cider from those trees you’ve planted.”
“Very useful indeed,” Reese murmured before turning to Bertie. “You should come with me.”
He followed her outside, and she said, “If you hurry to the community hall, you should still have time to hear one of Mr. Taylor’s stories.”
With bright eyes, the boy took off.
“Clarisse, you must see this new lace pattern,” Ellen called.
“I’m coming.”
Reese scanned the village, the memory of how wretched the place had been fading even more. The decades ahead wouldn’t be easy for people like them, but now they had a chance.
Ellen, of course, wanted to visit Kellworth during their trip to Reese’s time. And she had agreed to accompany her friend to see if they’d done enough to protect the people she cared for so deeply.
They would leave tonight.
With each visit to the past, Jem understood better the pull Reese felt for this time.
Like her, he was very much a modern man and enjoyed technology.
It was the people who were the real draw.
As evidenced when they’d made their farewells to the older couples, it would not be easy to say goodbye again.
Candles glowed along the walls of the portrait room, their light reflected softly in the glass of the frames. The moonlight filtering through the tall windows was bright enough to silver the floorboards, but not so bright that it swallowed the warmth of the room.
They had already changed their clothing so they would fit in at Nellie’s modern Regency ball. Reese stood with a pale Ellen, who clung to Michael’s arm.
Gareth watched his frightened sister with an expression that said he wanted to put a stop to the whole thing.
“Do you think she’ll go through with it?” Jem murmured to Catherine.
“She’s determined to make the trip, and I admire her for it. It’s difficult to get over that kind of experience.” Catherine lowered her voice. “I say, good for her.”
“It’s harder saying goodbye this time,” Jem admitted.
“If I hadn’t lost my entire family, I would be in your situation, pulled in two directions.” Catherine sighed. “If only we could talk to each other through time as well as travel.”
“You’ve got that right,” he agreed.
Aunt Nellie swept into the room, followed by a couple of servants, one carrying a tray.
“Lady Ellen, do you still wish to make this trip?” the Fae guardian asked.
Ellen stood straighter, her knuckles white. “Yes, I do.”
“Then I will have you drink this before you go,” Nellie said, handing a teacup to the young woman. “It will settle your nerves and quiet your stomach.”
“And we will be here with you,” Michael assured her.
“Right beside you,” Reese added.
As expected, Ellen’s hands stopped shaking with the first sip. She finished the rest quickly and returned the cup to the tray.
“Thank you,” she said, calm and relieved. “When I traveled the first time, it all happened so quickly. I do not know what I must do.”
“Let me show you your painting.”
Nellie led them over to a portrait of Michael hung near the larger one of Jem and their friends, the paintings that served as anchors, allowing them to time travel at will. Beside Michael’s frame was another, hidden under a cloth. Nellie removed it with a flourish.
“Oh, it is lovely,” Ellen breathed, then frowned. “I suppose it was selfish to hope Michael would be in mine.”
“Good heavens, Ellen,” Gareth growled. “Catherine and I do not even have that.”
Nellie laughed. “I do so love you all, but you must get into place, for it is time.”
Reese hugged Catherine and kissed Gareth’s cheek. “Take care of them,” she said.
“Of course.” He sent Jem a stern look, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Remember my threat.”
“Always, my friend.” And the two men shook hands.
Clasping Jem’s hand, Reese took her position before their painting. With her other hand, she reached out for Michael’s while he held Ellen’s.
“Be sure to touch your portraits,” Nellie cautioned as she swirled her hands to gather the magic.
“Must I keep my eyes open?” Ellen asked, a little breathless.
“No, my love,” Michael assured her.
“Until next time, my dearest of friends,” Reese called as the light of the magic grew blinding.
Then came the dizziness, but Jem was getting used to it now and barely wobbled.
“Ugh,” Reese groaned, her grip tightening. “I should have asked Nellie for some of that potion.”
Jem barely kept his wife on her feet. Surprisingly, Ellen rushed to Reese’s side.
“Help her to sit,” her ladyship commanded. “Where is Nellie? Michael, please call for someone.”
With a bemused smile, he did as instructed, but met Nellie in the doorway.
“And look at you, Lady Ellen,” the Fae woman said with pride.
Ellen straightened from helping Jem seat Reese and said, “She needs tea.”
“Yes, she does.” Aunt Nellie signaled for the maid, Lulu, to come forward with the tray. “I am sure her delicate condition has made this worse, but time travel is good for the babes you each carry.”
Bemused, Jem handed a cup to Reese and held it for her first sip. Then she waved him off.
“Welcome to my time,” Michael said.
Ellen scanned the room, her face a little paler.
“We came dressed for a ball.” He offered her his elbow. “Do you feel well enough to dance?”
“Yes, I believe I do,” she said, taking his arm. “But what about Clarisse?”
“I feel great now.”
So Jem offered her his arm, and the four of them descended the stairs.