Down the Rabbit Hole

Mr. Arbuckle cleared his throat. “The item you carried, my lord, takes the physical place of the coin they carried. That is the only reason you were allowed to bring something that is not from this time period.”


Weston wanted to know why the coin chose that particular item, the locket, but feared the answer would be something to do with the absurdity of time and space continuity or whatever Arbuckle had called it.

Or, he would have feared it if he believed a word of this story. Still, there was the issue of his traveling by coach for hours only to magically arrive where he had started.

And what was so important about a damn coin? Questions. He had a hundred. Weston pressed his lips together and waited for an answer to the first one.

“If you will come with me now I will prove that you have moved through both space and time.”

“But I have a dozen more questions,” Alice insisted.

“I am sure you both do, Miss Kemp, and I will do my best to answer them, but first I want to establish the truth of what I say, if you please. The changes in London will convince you better than I ever could with words.”

Mr. Arbuckle walked toward the door. Weston followed him, anxious to see the proof.

“I cannot go out in public wearing this!” Alice had not moved from the spot.

Both men paused. Mr. Arbuckle did not open the door.

“Miss, I assure you that no one will be at all shocked. The jeans you are wearing are typical for all English women.”

“Jeans?” She looked down at the offending garment. “Do they now name their items of clothing?” Her tone indicated that her question was more sarcasm, the kind she had deplored in him.

“Alice. We have traveled two hundred years into the future and you choose to quibble over an item of dress?”

“Quibble!” Now she was insulted. “You know as well as I do that what people wear can seal their fate in society. Beau Brummell has proved that.”

“Miss Kemp, please do trust me in this,” Arbuckle urged. “No one will think it unusual for you to be out and about dressed as you are. You are wearing essentially what Miss Amy and Mr. West were wearing when they traveled back in time, as they are wearing what you wore. So you see it is perfectly normal.”

Weston could not control a burst of laughter. “‘Perfectly normal’ are the last words I would use to describe this situation.” He turned to Alice. “Come, my dear, have you not always wanted to experience the comfort of men’s dress? Now is your chance.”

“Dress as a gentleman? Never. No more than you have wanted to dress in skirts, my lord.” But with a sigh Alice moved toward the door. “Very well. But I will box the ears of anyone who dares insult me.”

“I know that you are entirely capable of taking care of yourself,” Weston said, “but I assure you, Alice, that I shall do more than box ears if anyone should insult you.”

Alice turned her head away quickly, but not before he saw the hint of a smile.





CHAPTER THREE




As they made their way into the passage toward the front door a woman was coming up the stairs. “Are you done with the tea things, then, sir?”

A servant. This woman was a servant of some kind, but dressed in a way that made it look as though she were trying to copy her betters.

“Yes. We are done.” She was looking at him, but it was Arbuckle who answered. “Mr. West and Miss Kemp will be back shortly.”

“Very well, sir.”

Weston gave a brief nod when the servant glanced at him for confirmation. As the housekeeper moved into the next room to clear the tea table, Arbuckle whispered, “I beg your pardon, my lord, but the housekeeper—Tandy is her name—knows nothing of what has happened. And since you look exactly like Mr. West and not at all like the current earl, I thought it best to address you as him.”

“Yes, I see,” the earl answered, and then looked at Alice.

She nodded. “We will have to be careful what we say when she is around.”

“Which is not that different from our day, is it?”