I don’t know how long I was in that cart or to where we traveled because we either went over an enormous rut and I hit my head and passed out, or someone hit my head for me. Whatever the means, I was unconscious for a while. When I awoke the sac was off my head, my arms were free, and I was in a large cage at the edge of the woods with six other battle worn females. After a series of cautious questions, I learned that we were all convicted of witchcraft and were to be hanged at dawn.
I experienced a whirlwind of emotions.
I feared for my life.
I feared for Isabelle’s life.
I longed to have Duncan come rescue me.
I missed Duncan.
I hated Duncan.
I regretted meeting Duncan.
I regretted falling in love with Duncan.
I still loved Duncan, even though he was a shit who hooked up with me because Margaret was no longer available.
I regretted trying to save him.
I wanted to go home.
I was hours into my enumeration of why I regretted meeting Duncan, how I felt about Duncan, and how I felt about my foolish act of going back in time to save him, when two cloaked figures approached the cage. Amazingly my co-prisoners were sleeping; although how they managed such a feat just hours before they were to dangle from a rope until dead, I’ll never understand. I was the only one awake and alert enough to notice Elizabeth and Garth creep up to the cage and slice through the thick leather hinges that prevented me from reaching freedom.
I reached out to shake one of my co-prisoners, but Elizabeth stopped me before motioning me to follow. The night had been a harrowing experience, but somehow I managed to keep my wits about me and followed them silently. I looked back briefly at the sleeping figures huddled together in the cage and hoped they woke early enough to realize their freedom was only inches away. I regretted not being able to alert them, but the slightest sound could have brought Vivian’s people running. I considered throwing a stone into the cage, but if I startled anyone and they yelped it could mean not only my death, but the death of my rescuers as well. It was better to just leave the door ajar and hope the women noticed before it was too late. I prayed they would.
We ran a good distance through the woods until we reached a small clearing where our horses were tethered. Still, no one spoke.
Garth surveyed our surroundings before helping me onto my mount. This time I was allowed to ride astride, which made it so much easier for me to keep up with them. They were both remarkably adept riders.
It took the better part of an hour to reach the Colliers’ Estate. We dismounted when we saw the buildings in the distance and walked our mounts the remainder of the way. This not only allowed us to approach quietly, but it gave the horses an opportunity to cool down after their long ride.
“Not a word of this to anyone,” Elizabeth said firmly to Garth as she took my hand and pulled me out of the stables. “Follow me, m’ lady. I know a short cut.”
I wasn’t sure I was up to any more secret passages, but I also didn’t want to have to explain my condition or the fact that I was out of the Mansion in the middle of the night, so I dubiously followed her. To my surprise and delight, the short cut was nothing more than a stairway used by the servants.
When we reached my rooms, I leaned against the door, closed my eyes, and took a moment to allow myself to react to the ordeal I’d just endured. My legs trembled and my body hurt from head to toe. My hair was littered with feed dust and I wanted a long hot bath more than I could remember ever wanting one. Elizabeth seemed to understand and left me alone until I was mobile again.
“Where is Isabelle? Did you find her?” I asked.
“She helped us find you,” Elizabeth replied.
“Where is she?” I asked again as I looked around the room.
“You must rest, m’ lady. Garth will set up your bath for you and, once we have washed away the filth of that place, you must sleep,” she said softly.
“What of Isabelle?” I demanded.
“Alas, m’ lady,” Elizabeth said hesitantly, “she did not survive.”
“What? How can that be? Did you not just say ‘twas she who led you to me?” I asked with despair.
I was really struggling to stay in character. I’d had it with everything eighteenth century, especially their mode of speech. Trying to remember proper English and omit the slang of modern day when under such stress was all too trying. I wanted to go home and, when I did, I could guarantee I’d never accept an acting part that required I speak in this manner.
I had one day left to find Isabelle and get the hell out of there and I planned on doing just that. She couldn’t be dead. She just couldn’t.
“She performed a casting spell to find you,” Elizabeth said. “It took the last of her magic. As you know,” she hesitated, “’twas her magic keeping her alive.”
My stomach flipped uncontrollably and what little I had left from the cuisine I’d dined on the night before came purging out onto the wide wooden planked flooring. Elizabeth might just as well have said I killed my friend. If it weren’t for me, she would be going about her merry way in twenty-first century Manhattan without a care in the world. Instead, because of my stupidity, she’d returned to a time and place that didn’t support her magical spell for longevity of life and used what little magic she’d been able to salvage upon her arrival to locate me.
I summed up my situation.
My dear friend was dead.
I’d miscalculated my jump back in time and Duncan wasn’t even here.
I discovered I was a dead ringer for Duncan’s true love.
An evil witch wanted me dead and I might not be able to go back to the future, in which case I’d die anyway.
Could things get any worse?
****
There was no funeral for Isabelle because there was no body; therefore, there was no closure for me. All I had to hang onto of my dear friend was a jar full of ashes that Elizabeth had the presence of mind to collect.
I spent the day in my room, feigning a headache. I had no desire to walk amongst the guests of the household. I found them artificial and stuffy. I wondered if I was getting a small taste of what life at court was like.
I was lying on my bed staring at the ceiling when I heard Isabelle say, “You are wasting time. Get up and get moving.”
I sat up and looked around the room.
I was alone.
Puzzled, I walked to the tapestry and pulled it away from the wall. I had no desire to venture down that dank and stifling doorway to doom again, but I thought perhaps Isabelle was hiding there. Had she faked her death?
“I didn’t fake my death. I actually died,” she said. “Look behind you.”
I turned and looked behind me, but saw only my empty room, nothing more.
“Really look!” she shouted.
I strained my eyes to look for whatever it was I was supposed to be looking for, but could still see only the room I stood in.
“What am I supposed to be seeing?” I asked with frustration.
“Me,” she replied flatly. “Don’t try so hard.”
“First you tell me to really look and then you say don’t try so hard. Which is it?” I demanded. It was only then that I realized Isabelle and I were using the twenty-first century style of speaking. “Is it wise to use modern English? Did you not just reprimand me about this?”
“You are the only one who can hear me,” she said with a bit of humor in her voice. “Now relax and look again.”
It finally dawned on me that Isabelle was a ghost speaking to me. I hadn’t spoken with a ghost in quite some time, but I still remembered how to focus to be able to see one. I allowed my eyes to relax and my vision to blur. Sure enough, there before me stood a full apparition of my dear friend Isabelle.
“Hello, my friend,” I smiled.
“Hello,” she smiled back.
“I miss you already,” I whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”
Isabelle scoffed and waved her hand.
“Oh stop,” she said casually. “I led a long, long, long life that was full of adventure. I have no regrets; so don’t you have any either. Your only concern now should be getting the hell out of here before that crazy Vivian realizes you’ve escaped the gallows and comes looking for you.”
“I’d forgotten about her,” I moaned.
“Well, she certainly hasn’t forgotten about you. So, get a move on. You have only one more day before you need to hightail it out of here,’ she scolded.
“I know,” I snapped.
“You’ve got it rough, whether you stay here or go back,” Isabelle whistled.
“What do you mean?” She had my curiosity.
“Duncan is in a rage right now,” she practically whispered, as if he’d hear her or something. “He was frantic looking for you and then he realized I was gone too. I finally had to pop in and tell him what was going on.”
“He knows you’re dead?” I started to shake.
“Yep,” she said flatly.
“He blames me for your death,” I wailed.
“Don’t feel bad,” Isabelle chuckled. “He went into an even bigger rage when he asked me to bring him back here and I said ‘no can do’. There’s no sight on this earth that compares to that of a raging vampire.”
I did my best to subdue the mixture of panic and anger that rose in me. It was understandable that Duncan would be upset with me for the stunt I pulled that resulted in Isabelle’s death. Well, maybe upset is a little mild. Anyway, I get that and that’s why I panicked. I was, after all, a fill in for Margaret. How angry with me was he? Would I be safe with him if we encountered each other or would he want to teach me a lesson that could cost me my life? For the first time since I’d met Duncan, I was afraid of him.
The fact that he went into a rage because Isabelle wouldn’t bring him back angered me. Since Isabelle was already dead and his returning would do nothing to help her -especially since Duncan hadn’t inherited the magic gene from his father- then the only reason I could see that he’d want to return for would be to keep Margaret from meeting up with me. Wouldn’t we have stories to share?
Well, since Margaret was in the future with him the joke was on him. It looked like we both lost out.
“You couldn’t or you wouldn’t?” I asked.
None of this was Isabelle’s fault and I knew she deserved a better tone of voice from me, but my anger with Duncan just wouldn’t calm down enough for me to pull “nice” off.
“Magic works differently here,” she sighed.
“Well, he needn’t worry about getting back to his precious Lady Margaret anyway. I hear tell she’s in the future looking for him,” I said with a shrug. “Besides, why did he wait so long to ask to come back? He’s known you for centuries. You could’ve sent him back anytime during all those years. I don’t get it.”
“First and foremost, Duncan did not wish his family to know what became of him. This is why he allowed them to think Vivian teleported him into the future,” Isabelle said as she leaned closer and spoke in a deep husky voice. “Between you and me…. Our wicked witch hasn’t the power to do such a feat.”
I couldn’t contain my gasp. Was teleporting really that complicated? What kind of danger had I put myself into? This was a classic example of putting a child behind the wheel of a car and handing them the keys without driving lessons. It’s a crap shoot whether they’ll make it down the street without killing someone or themselves. So far, I’d killed Isabelle. I was probably next.
“I thought…,” I managed to get out before she continued.
“Secondly,” she continued. “Even if he had wanted to return, it took him most of this time to accept and adjust to being vampire. It is not that easy for the pure of heart to turn into something they consider a monster.”
“He’s not a monster,” I blurted without thinking.
“Of course he’s not a monster,” she said assuringly.
He’s a very sad victim of darkness who still holds within him enough light to keep from succumbing to the evil they tried to plant within him.”
“Did Vivian make him a vampire?” I asked hesitantly.
Isabelle threw her head back and laughed as she said, “On my dear, dear Jane. You give that horrible creature far more credit than she deserves. Why do you think she tried to pin witchcraft on you and have you hanged at the gallows? If she was truly an adept magical being, do you think she would have to rely on the primitive means of man to do her bidding?”
“The birds,” I mumbled as I rubbed my arms.
“She is a witch,” Isabelle explained. “She has witchy comrades to do her bidding, but she and her friends are no match for you, my friend. No match at all.”
I stared at Isabelle as if she had five heads. Was she kidding me? Had death altered her perception of things? I’d only started studying magic a few years ago and I’d proven quite skillfully that I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. I was about to correct my ghost friend about her assessment of the situation when Elizabeth entered the room. Just like that, Isabelle was gone and I knew she wouldn’t return again until I was alone.
I heaved a sigh of remorse and disappointment before turning to Elizabeth.
“How do you feel this evening m’ lady?” Elizabeth asked with a sympathetic tone.
She was proving to be a reliable ally for me. It was time for me to see just how much of an ally she was. I needed help getting back to the portal in time. I decided to tell all and hope she’d be open minded enough to help.
“But, this is your home, m’ lady. I do not understand why you might wish to leave it. If Lord Duncan is truly a vampire ‘twould not do to mix with him. Vampires can be unpredictable,” she uttered softly.
She didn’t get it. My heart sank and, for some crazy reason that I couldn’t explain. Suddenly my defenses went up. Was she saying Duncan couldn’t be trusted? The look on my face was worth more than a thousand words.
“I am sorry m’ lady,” she quivered, “please forgive me... I… I did not mean…”
Realizing I was probably frightening the poor superstitious gentle woman I sighed.
“’Tis me who is sorry,” I assured her. “Perhaps I need to lay down a bit more. I shall have dinner in my room tonight. Please inform cook.”
With Isabelle gone, Elizabeth was all I had left. It wouldn’t do to alienate her with my rash temper. I couldn’t blame her for not understanding. She lived in a world of magic, superstition, secrecy, and fanatic religious control. Science had yet to interfere with imaginations like it had in the twenty-first century and politics had yet to invade the backward control of the masses. Electrical use didn’t mute the elements of nature required to easily tap into the inherent magic of the earth. She existed in a world that was opposite mine in so many ways. Much of what they considered normal and every day, we considered fantasy, fake, or fanatical. What we considered natural was so unnatural to them that it could only be from the devil himself.
I’d tried to convince Elizabeth that I hadn’t lost my mind and I truly wasn’t Lady Margaret, but to no avail. Apparently the concept of a doppelganger hadn’t been introduced yet. She was convinced my lack of recall was caused by one of two things; either Vivian-the-Horrid had placed a spell on me to make me forget Lord Duncan or the teleporting had confused my mind. She leaned toward the latter, but wouldn’t rule out the first.
It took some convincing to get her to agree to help me slip away to the portal of return the following day. I assumed she decided it was better to humor me for a while. Whatever the reason, I was grateful. In a matter of hours, I’d be back in my own apartment and in my own bed. I felt peace for the first time since I’d arrived.
The thought of having to face Duncan when I returned flitted through my mind, but I forced it back out again. I knew I was being silly fearing him. I may have been a substitute for Margaret, but we’d spent far too much time together for his true nature not to be displayed. I knew that, no matter how angry he was with me, he’d never intentionally hurt me. I’d give him that, at least. I’d managed to send myself back in time successfully. If I could do it once, I could do it again. If sending him back in time to be with his one true love is what it took to appease my irate vampire, then so be it. My future with him was over with anyway. What did it matter where he went or who he was with?
It shouldn’t have mattered. I told myself that it didn’t, but somewhere in the recesses of my emotional body, tears were being shed. Duncan Collier was my one true love and I doubted I’d ever feel that way about anyone again. My heart was crushed and so were my hopes for the future.