Chapter 29
The next morning passed in a blur. Eva hopped into the carriage, her belongings firmly secured in Henry’s travel trunk on the roof. The journey to the train station was quiet; not a word passed between Eva, Lottie, Elias or William.
They passed by rolling hills, blanketed in a thick fog. Farmers cultivated the land, sheep munched the lush grass by the roadside and children played alongside the stone fence. As they approached St. Austell, the houses were larger and the streets busier with horses, carts, carriages and people. At the station, they retrieved their trunks and climbed onto a London-bound train.
It was a slow journey, with many stops. Eva was relieved that they had a small, four-person compartment to themselves. There were two benches padded in a thick red velvety material. Above were racks for their trunks. The window was large enough to cover most of the exterior side of the compartment, displaying a lovely view of the countryside villages with their orchards, animals, churches and cemeteries.
About halfway to London, Eva’s restlessness got the better of her. She opened her mouth to excuse herself but realized that everyone was sleeping.
Lottie was resting her head against the window, a shawl wrapped firmly around her narrow shoulders. William was asleep, open-mouthed with his head lolled against the bench’s backrest and Elias slept in the corner, next to the door with his arms crossed and his head to the side.
Careful to not make any noise, Eva stepped out of the compartment into the hallway and slowly slid the door shut.
The inside of the train was a light-oak colour with red-carpeted floors. On one side of the hallway was a row of compartments, on the other, a line of windows.
Eva placed a hand on her stomach. She was struggling with the fact that she was on her way to London. It was a place she never thought to visit while stuck in 1881. Her companions seemed at ease with the decision and that was the only thing keeping her calm. She had tried to reason with her anxiety. She told herself that it was only London, that she had been there countless times with her dad, but deep down, she was terrified of what she would see.
Eva walked toward the dining carriage.
The area was spacious with a multitude of gold-trimmed windows, framed by red curtains. The tables were decked in white cloth, set with china dishes and silver cutlery. The red padded seats were made of a similar velvet material to those in the compartments and were detailed with golden buttons along the edges.
A couple huddled together on Eva’s right. They were in a private conversation over a plate of fried oysters.
Eva furrowed her brow. A bit decadent for a train ride.
At the far end was a table of women enjoying a spot of tea.
“Hello, madam, sir,” a waiter greeted her with a curt nod. “Would you like a table?”
Sir?
“Aye, we would,” Elias’s voice boomed from behind.
Eva spun around. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“I was, but I heard ye sneakin’ about and had to check if ye were causin’ trouble,” he said, smirking.
“If you would follow me,” the waiter said.
“Come now, let us enjoy a dram on me,” Elias said.
Eva frowned and stumbled forward, following the waiter to a table halfway down the carriage.
The waiter placed two menus on the table. “I shall give you a few moments. I can recommend the fried oysters.”
“Thank you,” Eva mumbled. The thought of fried oysters made her stomach squirm.
As soon as the waiter left, Elias clasped his hands across the table and cocked his head. His eyes squinted as if he were trying to figure something out.
“What?” Eva said.
“Ye once told me ye enjoyed whisky, was that the truth?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
He cleared his throat and set the menus aside.
“Then it is settled. Two whiskies.”
“What if I wanted coffee?”
“Yer havin’ whisky.”
She mirrored his clasped hands and leaned in. “I don’t like men deciding things for me.”
“I figured as much. Otherwise, ye would’ve listened to Henry’s request without a second mind to it.”
Her face fell. She slumped against the plush seat and looked out the window. “How could I ever listen to that nonsense?”
“I don’t believe he will be happy with either of us for defying his request.”
“Do you think I care about that?” Eva looked at him. “The only thing that matters is we try to convince him to flee with Lottie.”
The waiter came. “Have you decided what you would like?”
“Two whiskies,” Elias said.
“Make it four,” Eva added.
The waiter shot Elias a look as if asking permission. He gave a curt nod.
“Swallyin’ away the nerves, are we?” Elias said.
“I have to kill them somehow.”
“Have ye considered what ye will say to him?”
“No.”
“Have ye considered what ye will do once all of this is over and done?”
“What’s with all the questions? Can’t we swally away our depression in silence?”
“We have yet to talk about his request.”
A day had passed since Elias had delivered Henry’s letter. She had done her best to remain calm and focused. She hadn’t allowed herself the chance to consider what would happen if they failed to convince Henry to leave London. Would she still return to her world? What if the device did not work as intended, what would she do then?
“I’m not going to Scotland with you,” Eva said.
“And I am not marrying my friend’s lass.”
“At least we can agree on that.”
“Aye.”
“Did he … did he bring it up with you?” she said quietly.
“Aye, he did.”
Eva’s heart hammered. “What did he say?”
“He begged me to give ye the life he could not.”
“You can’t be serious,” Eva said. “Did I already mention how I hate it when men decide things for me?”
The waiter returned with a silver platter of four whiskies.
On impulse, Eva took a glass and sunk it back. The strong, bitter liquor was a shock to her empty stomach, but it felt good, as if it cleansed her from the inside.
Elias laughed. “Och, slow down, lass. Why do I have the feeling ye could outdrink me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I could never outdrink a Scot.”
He gave her a pointed look. A sly smirk danced on his lips.
“What?” she said.
“Och, nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You know I’ve been meaning to ask how you knew my real name. Did he tell you who I was?”
“Aye, he did, although, he mostly whispered it in his sleep.”
“Are you serious?”
“Aye.”
“Oh.” Her gaze slid away from him to the second glass of whisky. “How … how is he?”
“That is another thing we must talk about,” he said quietly. “I found him at a pub one night, brawling while drunk as a mule—”
“No,” she gasped.
Elias clenched a large hand around his glass. “How much do ye wish to know? Because if you will faint or cry now, I have a mind to speak about it in the privacy of my own home and not in the middle of a restaurant while folk enjoy their fried oysters.”
“You of all people should know that I don’t faint or cry easily. I want to know all of it.”
“Christ … very well.” Elias drank back his whisky in one shot. “The night I found him, he was begging for death to take him. I had to interfere and drag the dumb bastard out of the pub and nurse him back to health for a few days.”
“How badly injured was he?” she said.
“Bad enough to be out cold for a couple o’ days.”
Her heart lurched painfully. A hard lump was forming in her throat. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s talk about this another time.”
“I must say one more thing.” Elias’s lips twisted. He leaned closer until they were just a few inches apart. “A fire broke out at the Asheford Sons wharf the night he asked me to deliver the package to ye.”
“You think he’s responsible?”
“I dinnae ken,” Elias mumbled. “But just prior, he had business with the police.”
“Yes, with Clarkson,” Eva nodded. “He told me he had a sudden meeting with him. It was the reason he travelled to London at short notice.”
Elias narrowed his eyes. “Och, did he now? He told me he was requestin’ a meetin’ with an investigator, claimin’ he required information on a matter. I escorted him to deliver a letter to the police station that very night.”
A thick silence followed.
Elias shifted in his chair. “I suppose I should also mention that he specified that his time for duty had come, not only as an Asheford but as the company’s heir.”
“God no,” she said.
“I dinnae ken what it means.”
“It means he’s been lying.”
A pause ensued. “At least, he has to one of us.”
No longer caring about decorum, Eva brought the second glass of whisky to her nose and drank it in one go. Henry had lied. Regret be damned. The sinking suspicion that he had betrayed her had already seeped deep into her bones and she knew it would take all the effort in the world to ignore it now.
***
It was sometime in the evening when the carriage came to a stop before a narrow Regency-style townhouse on a London street. Eva jumped down from the carriage into a cold puddle and dashed to the large, ornate red door.
It was unlocked, and she entered into a brightly lit hallway. The walls were a dark shade of olive-green and there was gold everywhere. Thick-framed paintings of various animals and twisted antlers hung on the walls. In front of her, a narrow, carpeted staircase climbed to a landing, where a stained-glass window cast a shimmering kaleidoscope of green and blue onto the floor.
A female servant dashed into the hall from a room on the right. “Who in God’s name are you?”
“Is there a Mr. Asheford here?” Eva said.
“Why, yes, but he’s—”
Eva sprinted down the hall and took the stairs two at a time to the second floor.
“You cannot enter a stranger’s home without invitation!” the servant shrieked. “I shall call the police, I shall!”
On the second storey, Eva busted through every door she could find. All the rooms were small with the beds neatly made. As she opened the last door at the end of the hall, she walked into a darkened room with the curtains drawn.
The lingering scent of sweet tobacco filled her nostrils.
She crept in, dreading what she might find.
The bed was not made, and the covers had been tossed around. His clothing was discarded across the chair in the corner. An empty bottle of whisky and small glass vials sat on his bedside table.
Eva went closer and picked up one of the vials.
The label read Laudanum.
“Marguerite has informed us that he left over an hour ago,” Elias said.
“Marguerite?”
“My housekeeper. The one ye gave a fright to.”
Embarrassment stirred in her. She would have to apologize. “When … when will he return?”
“I dinnae ken.”
She rolled the vial in her palm. “He’s been taking laudanum.”
“Aye, for the pain.”
She felt light-headed. It was worse than she thought.
“Eva, come now,” Elias said softly. “It isn’t good for ye to see this. Let us sit in the parlour and talk. Maybe have a cuppa or a wee dram?”
She set the vial back onto the table and stepped away, her face contorted. Her hopes of reaching him were slipping away. She turned from his room and walked into the hall, a shiver tingling down her spine.
The parlour was an elaborate homage to a tropical paradise. Palms in thick terracotta pots complemented the deep crimson walls and the thick, oriental-themed curtains that hung from brass rails. A stuffed monkey wearing a red velvet vest perched on a bookshelf. A blue heron with magnificent, fluffy plumage, bolted to a wooden plate, had been propped next to the sofa. Upon the living-room table stood a marble elephant with golden tusks. The room was eclectic and chaotic. It was the perfect representation of a man well-travelled and interested in the cultures of the world.
“Do I spot sword-fighting mice, or have I gone mad?” Lottie said, examining a glass dome on a table beside the sofa.
“That is Jean-Luc and Pierre Baptiste,” Elias said.
“Goodness,” Lottie laughed. “What impressive names for mice.”
“You’ve got a pretty cool collection of oddities,” Eva said.
“Aye, I enjoy takin’ pieces of art home from my travels,” he said. “Although my biggest collection is in Edinburgh.”
Marguerite came into the room with a tray of tea and set it on the table. As she laid out the cups, she threw Eva side glances.
“Tea is served,” Marguerite said. “Is there anything else, master?”
“Thank ye, that will be all.”
“I wish to apologize for my rude behaviour earlier,” Eva said to Marguerite. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was overcome with emotion.”
“Mr. McKenzie has explained the situation, Miss Edwards. All is well.”
Eva shot a look to Elias. “Has he?”
He gave a tight-lipped smile. Once the housekeeper had hurried from the room, he continued. “I told her Henry was a long-lost cousin ye have not seen in many years.”
“Really? A cousin?” Eva exclaimed.
“Did you want me to say ye were lovers?”
Not knowing how to answer, she clamped her mouth shut and leaned back on the leather sofa.
“Well, my brother is not here,” Lottie said. “What shall we do now?”
“We wait,” Eva said.
“Or perhaps, we pass the time at the market. I’ve got business in fetchin’ a few provisions for my upcoming travels,” Elias said.
“Where are you going?” Lottie asked.
He smiled. “I leave with my colleagues in a few weeks to travel to the north of England, toward Scotland. It is my plan to spend Christmas with Ma and the nieces this year.”
“You have nieces?” Eva said.
“Aye, seven of them.”
“Elias is their only uncle,” Lottie laughed. “Can you imagine that?”
“As ye can imagine, I am very loved.”
It took Eva by surprise to learn of Elias’s family. She pictured him now in the Highlands, surrounded by seven little girls all fighting for a chance to sit atop their uncle’s shoulders. The scene softened Eva’s heart. It must be nice to have a big, loving family.
“So, what do ye lassies say? Will ye both accompany me to the market? It shouldn’t take more than an hour.”
Before Eva could protest, Lottie grabbed her hand. “Come with us, Eva. Knowing my brother, he will not be back so soon. Besides, William is already out looking for him.”
Eva took a deep breath and nodded. She could use a distraction.
Soon enough, she found herself sandwiched between Elias and Lottie walking beneath the store awnings toward the market. What she saw horrified her.
The street was chaos with rows of carriages and carts all crossing each other’s paths. At the intersections, policemen directed the traffic, to little effect. There were so many people, all weaving between the carriages like it was a game of Frogger.
A pile of brown sludge landed with a sticky thud at her feet.
Eva gasped.
“My apologies, miss,” a young voice said.
She looked up from the mess at a dirty child standing in the gutter. Barefoot, with a ratty brown flat cap, the child held an overflowing bucket of brown liquid. The contents of it had dripped across his forearms.
“Wee bugger,” Elias muttered under his breath. “Watch how yer shovelling shit next time.”
Eva’s head jerked toward Elias. “Shit?”
“Pay no attention to it.”
“But it’s all over my dress.” Eva looked down at her hem.
A spatter of brown marked the pale-yellow material.
Her gag reflex triggered.
“Do not worry about it, Eva,” Lottie said. “This is city life. Is it not thrilling?”
No, it was not. It was far from thrilling. It was … downright shocking.
The air was acidic, thick with hazardous smoke, horse dung and urine. There were carts at the side of the street filled with mountains of literal shit. Piles of garbage filled the alleys, street corners and storefronts.
What she knew of historic London had transformed into a scene from a movie in front of her eyes, like Sweeny Todd or Sherlock Holmes, but the grime filter had been multiplied by a thousand and one. Maybe she was exaggerating a bit. Or maybe she was just used to different standards: clean, modern, with a little more order. And less stink. Way less stink.
As they went to cross the street, a man on a horse blazed by, cutting them off with a dense gust of wind.
Eva stepped back and cursed.
Just as she lost her footing on the curb, Elias’s hand caught her arm. “Lass, ye gotta stop cursing like a wee sailor,” he muttered.
“This city is absolute chaos,” she said.
“Aye, that’s London.”
“How much further must we walk?” Lottie said.
“The market is a few streets over; we are nearly there. Can ye do it, Eva?”
She barely nodded.
“Lottie, hold onto yer friend and I shall do the same, On three we go—”
“What do you mean on three? Shouldn’t we wait until there’s a gap?” Eva said.
“If ye want to stand here all day,” Elias said, smirking. “Ready? One, two—”
Elias pushed her arm forward, prompting Lottie to do the same. Together they darted through the endless stream of traffic. Once they reached the other side, Eva immediately jerked away from them.
“That was not on three!” Eva shouted.
“There was a gap.” Elias winked. “Come now, the market is this way.”
Eva took hold of Lottie’s arm and they followed Elias through the street. When it came to hygiene, the market was hardly any better than the street. Wooden stalls had been set up in the centre of the courtyard with a variety of goods: vegetables, fruit, dried spices, flowers, fish and meat. The air reeked of sweet, rotting food and sulphur.
“What’s that smell?” Eva whispered in Lottie’s ear.
“The cesspools beneath the houses.”
She cursed.
That would not be the last time she would publicly swear. 1881 London was a far cry from the city she remembered. It was hell on earth.
By the time they returned to Elias’s house, the chaos of the city was still crawling beneath her skin. She fell onto the sofa in exhaustion with the black satin pouch on her lap. She wanted to study the time-travelling device in closer detail, but as soon as a fire was lit, the warmth soothed her mind. Instead, she rested under the comfort of a quilt and watched the embers burn beyond the metal grate of the fireplace. Her eyes fluttered shut and she fell asleep.