Living London

Epilogue



Time had been kind to me. Each year that passed was more wonderful than the last. Through the raising of our four children, and now various grandchildren, Morgan and I grew deeper in love. Though now older and far wiser, I had a hard time believing I had actually done it, fallen through time. On various occasions I had tried to explain it to Morgan, yet he'd simply shake his head and say it didn't matter, all that did matter was I was here, with him. And he was right.

Part of me wondered how Nanna knew this would happen to me, and if it could happen again to someone else. Thoughts of that nature prevented me from sleeping one night, and so I padded to our large library to pick out a book. As I opened the doors, I half expected to find Elle asleep on one of the couches. I grinned to myself as I thought about my youngest granddaughter. Orphaned as a baby, she was dropped off at my youngest child's home in Sussex. I'm sure whoever left the infant with the note explaining the circumstances of her predicament expected the owners of the house to give her a life of servitude, but that wasn't the case. She was raised as a Westin. With an impetuous and reckless spirit that fought against her clumsy nature, she was constantly entertaining. When her mother suggested she spend some time in London when she turned twelve, I threw myself into her life with abandon.

The room was warm from a low fire, and I walked to the part of the library that held the oldest books. I picked up a treasured volume of the Psalms, flipping through the pages. It was an old copy, passed through generations of Westins. I had brought it to my London home shortly after I'd married Morgan almost forty years ago. I hadn't read it much, preferring my own Bible, but it had caught my eye for some reason in the library. Searching for Psalm 23, a favorite from childhood, I noticed faded ink marks next to the familiar chapter. I held the book closer to the candlelight and examined the page.

"Time is precious, no matter where or when you find yourself." Strange. I had to wonder. Maybe I wasn't the only one who had fallen through the ages, and in doing do, discovered myself.

I closed the book and walked upstairs to my snoring husband. Snuggling up to his warmth, I fell asleep and dreamed about a Highland warrior defending a beautiful blonde girl who seemed oddly familiar.

Elle. Shocked, I woke up with a start. Is that how Nanna knew? I blinked, assaulted once again by the imagery of the dream coming at me full force.

I collected myself. I knew I had time, but I wanted to prepare her a little more than I had been. Bless her soul, Nanna had done her best. And I'd survived, but Elle would have more to conquer than I'd had. Smiling to myself, I rose from bed once I saw the light peeking through the drapes and called my lady's maid to help me dress.

She will swoon when she meets him, I thought to myself as my hair was dressed. Flashes of white teeth and a large claymore flickered through my mind, and I wondered if maybe fencing lessons would be necessary. Can't ever be overly prepared in this case. She'll have to learn herbs and healing arts as well if she's to be taken back that far. Making a mental checklist, I organized the next few years in my head as my heart prepared to set time in motion.

As I left my room and headed to the library, I chuckled. Elle's legs were dangled over the side of the wide blue armchair. Only the top of her head and expressive blue eyes could be seen over the large volume of Dante she held in her small hands. "Good morning, Elle dear."

"Oh! Good morning, Grandma! Please forgive me!" she exclaimed as she dropped the large book onto the wooden side table, knocking it over along with a vase of flowers.

Yes, we have work to do. "Not a worry, love. We'll have someone in here to fix it right up. I have a question for you."

"Yes?" She straightened herself and folded her twitching hands in front of her apron, waiting.

"Elle, what do you know of medieval Scotland?"