A Bridge Through Time: (Time Travel) by Gloria Gay Read Free Book Online Page B

anxiously.
    “Yes, Miss Fielder,” Greywick replied. “A bedroom is being prepared for me just a few doors from yours. Tomorrow afternoon Dr. Lenn will help to move you to my house. My elderly Aunt Florinda lives with us. She will be able to provide female companionship for you while you recover.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Greywick. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Jane grimaced as she turned away. She couldn’t wait to meet the elderly Aunt Florinda who was to provide companionship for her!
    ***
    Jane spent a restless night in which she awoke several times. And each time she focused her eyes on the moonlit bedroom. Why did the people here insist on it being the past? That part she could not understand. No one seemed dishonest, so why continue with the farce? She had not seen other tourists in Lord Halensford’s house, either, only servants and Dr. Lenn.
    It seemed an elaborate setup if it was for tourists and why not admit to it, anyhow?
    Everything was different here: the clothes, the people, even the country air seemed alien. And scary. The cacophony of alien smells was those of a primitive farm. Those did not seem staged. The smells and flies were not for tourists. Of that she was certain.
    ***
    Jane awoke to country sounds of a rooster’s cry, birds twittering and the sounds of chickens, cows, ducks and other farm animals. A medley of smells from hay, blossoms, fruit, vegetables, wood smoke and manure assaulted her senses and a wide part between the drapes allowed a strong beam of sunshine into the room. The windows had been thrown wide open by Nellie who was now transferring the contents of a large tray to the round table by the window. Each time a breeze picked up it brought a welcome scent of jasmine and honeysuckle from the vines by the bedroom window, to counteract the other smells.
    Another maid, a taller, older woman with bad posture, closely set eyes and brown hair tied back into a bun was also in the room. Nellie introduced her as Sharon Mae. Sharon Mae stopped what she was doing long enough to nod at Jane – a nod that was accompanied by a curiosity stare.
    She had been placing an armful of thin folded towels on a table and when she finished she helped Nellie set up Jane’s breakfast on a table by the window.
    Jane looked around the room while the two maids moved about. Last night she had been unable to focus on anything except her pain. Now she noticed it was a pretty room with its walls hung with what appeared to be pink brocade. A cream tablecloth embroidered with a deeper shade of pink blossoms covered the small round table where Nellie and Sharon Mae were arranging the contents of a large tray with covered dishes.
    “Lady Elizabeth sent some clothes for you to wear, miss,” Nellie said while the other maid was pouring a cup of tea for Jane.
    “That’s very nice of Lady Elizabeth, Nellie. Whose clothes are they?”
    “They be Miss Alice’s clothes, miss, Lady Elizabeth’s sister. Miss Alice died two years ago, in May. She was just turning twenty, too.”
    “She died young, Nellie.”
    “Yes, miss, of the influenza that raked the area. My brother died the same month. It took fair half of the house servants and I don’t know how many gentry.”
    Jane could see that Nellie had lost her apprehension and curiosity around her and was now acting more normal, in contrast to Sharon Mae, who stared at Jane whenever she thought Jane was not looking.
    If Nellie was an actress she was an excellent one. A shiver of fear shot through Jane. More and more she was beginning to feel that nothing about her stay in Lord Halensford’s estate was staged. And if it was not staged, what was the alternative? She forced her mind away from it. She would not think it because she might make it so. There had to be an explanation. Yet she could not make herself believe that a tour she had taken with her mother a decade ago now was comprised of chiselers who separated tourists from their money, pretending to live in another