Down the Rabbit Hole

“Never, Stepp. Please go on.”


“First, the coin, my lord. It bears the date 1808, but quite it is only 1805. How can that be?”





CHAPTER THIRTEEN




“Ah, yes.” Weston prayed for inspiration as he pulled the coin from his pocket. “Well, you see, Stepp, the coins are being minted for use in India, as you can probably tell by the foreign wording on it.”

Weston handed him the coin so Stepp could examine it. “Yes, sir, I noticed that. Everyone has.”

“The coin has no value in itself. It is a medium exchange like the paper currency the government is trying to have us use now.”

Stepp nodded.

“The estate has interests in mines in Wales, and the ore from those mines is being used to mint these coins. This is a sample given to me as a gesture of . . .” He hesitated, trying to think of the right word. Stepp was hanging on every detail and, no doubt, this would be the official explanation spread belowstairs.

“The project managers gave it to the trustees and thence to me as a gesture of goodwill and commitment to the process.” In fact they had sent a small, toylike train, but Stepp did not need to know that.

“Thank you, my lord. There has been much speculation belowstairs, up to and including the absurd idea that it is a magic coin.”

Weston smiled and shook his head.

“Would that all headaches were as easily cured,” Stepp said, as he handed the coin back. “Next, my lord, you may not know, but Miss Kemp has been unavailable and sent a replacement, a Miss Amy Stevens. I have no doubt, sir, that Miss Stevens did her best but even I am grateful that she is only temporary. I do hope Miss Kemp will return soon.”

“I do believe that she will be arriving today.”

“Indeed!” Stepp’s relief was profound. “Thank you, thank you very much, my lord.” The butler did relax now and nodded. “I suspect that Lady Anne’s upset with Miss Stevens had much to do with Martha’s abrupt dismissal. I am certain that Miss Kemp’s arrival will ease Lady Anne’s sensibilities.”

“I’m sure,” Weston lied. He was not sure at all. If the day proceeded as he hoped, Alice would be his fiancée very soon, and not someone Anne could order about.

As he spoke, he realized that Martha’s dismissal was probably something for which he and his fellow time travelers were responsible. He must do something to help the maid find a new position.

The idea struck him at the same moment that the coin glittered a brighter gold. Give the servant the coin and send her out to fulfill wishes. Who could resist such a task? Of course, convincing her of the truth of its magic would have to come first.

Stepp had turned to leave the room and literally swayed on his feet. “My lord, where is the Guardi painting that should be hanging on that wall?”

Dear God in heaven, when would this confusion end? The painting. Where had it gone? Had it time traveled? The thought was cynical, but the weight of the coin in his pocket gave him the answer. Weston suddenly knew what had happened to the painting. It was with Miss Amy and Simon West. The painting was what they had taken with them to the twenty-first century when they left the coin behind. So, again, he opted for the truth, or a version of it.

“I do believe it has been stolen.”

“Stolen!”

“Yes.”

“But by whom?”

“I will tell you more when I am certain.” That is, as soon as I think of some way to explain the theft. “In the meantime make a notation in the journal you keep that the painting has been stolen.”