Trapped in Time Read online

  “Please…let me die. It hurts so much—let me die!”

  Her wish was granted soon after. As Richard took her skeletal hand in his, a long, rattling breath had rasped from her thin lips and the scrawny chest had at last stopped rising with each tortured breath.

  She was gone—gone right before him and there was nothing he could have done to save her. Well, unless he had some of the healing medicine from his ancestors which was forbidden to him. But he had none and no way to get it. He had felt a helpless sort of rage as he sat by the poor, wasted body and knew that there was nothing he could do.

  A cursory search of the room revealed a tray of what must have been her final meal. There was nothing but a half cup of weak tea and one stale cracker. Looking at the malnourished state of her corpse, Richard had wondered if this was all she’d been given for some time and if so, how long she had subsisted on such poor fare.

  He also wondered what—if anything—the tea had been laced with. It had the smell of almonds—which might point to cyanide poisoning. Then again, it might simply be almond tea—there was no way to tell. Not with the tools he had to work with.

  In any other household he would have tried to find a likely-looking servant to speak to—perhaps even to bribe—to learn the truth of Lady Harkens’ daily existence. But the portly Viscount had no actual human servants anymore—none that worked indoors, anyway. He had only the steam and clock-work powered Tick-Tocks—the mechanical servants which were all the rage among the upper gentry at the moment.

  With their burnished bronze casings and glowing yellow eyes, the Tick-Tocks were grimly efficient and they spoke not a word unless addressed specifically by their master. Richard could well imagine the hapless Lady Harkens begging one of them for more to eat or even to help her escape from what must have been a scene of misery. Such pleas, which might have moved a human servant, would have fallen on deaf ears to one of the mechanical drones.

  No…Richard sighed. As angry as he was, he still could not allow Caroline to wind up as a second bride to that monster. He could not bear the thought of her lush golden-red curls falling out and her teeth crumbling as poor Lady Harkens’ teeth had. Not to mention the thought of her locked in a room, at the tender mercies of the heartless Viscount made Richard’s fangs grow long and sharp and dangerous and his hands curl into fists.

  “She might leave me,” he muttered to himself. “But she shall not go to him.”

  Thus determined, he went back downstairs to attend the close of the ball. For the moment, there was nothing else he could do but keep an eye on his wife from afar—even if she was destined not to be his wife for very much longer.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I must say, Caroline, you played and sang and danced remarkably ill tonight. You have never appeared less accomplished, I do not think.”

  The other mother was in a temper—that much was clear. She’d been extremely angry with Caroline for leaving the ball and “exposing herself to rumor” even though the person she’d left with had been her husband!

  Of course, he’s not really your husband, pointed out a little voice in her head.

  I don’t care—for all she knows he’s my husband. She ought to respect that relationship instead of trying to break it up and ruin it! Caroline thought resentfully. And I don’t care how much money Lord Harkens has—he’s a disgusting man. I’m glad I put on such a terrible performance and “exposed myself to rumor” tonight. At least that means he’ll never want to see me again!

  “The only mercy is, that your strange behavior has not appeared to dampen Lord Harkens’ regard for you at all,” the other mother said, breaking into Caroline’s resentful thoughts.

  “What?” Caroline looked up at her, certain she must have misunderstood. “What did you say?” she demanded.

  “I said, that for some reason—and clearly through no action of your own—Lord Harkens is still interested in courting you.” The other mother shook her head, her elaborate hairstyle bobbing. “Though for the life of me, I cannot see why. Still, we must be grateful for what favors are granted us. We are to call on his mother for tea tomorrow.”

  “But…but…” Caroline could scarcely wrap her head around it. “You mean after the way I could barely play and hardly sing and my dancing was so atrocious I almost ruined the whole dance, he still wants to see me?”

  The other mother looked at her sharply.

  “Caroline, I begin to believe your performance tonight was on purpose. Please don’t tell me you’re willing to sabotage your chance to be a Viscountess just to stay with that wretched Kindred.”

  “He’s not wretched—he’s honorable,” Caroline said, lifting her chin. “And handsome and kind and—”

  “Stop!” The other mother put up a hand angrily, as though she couldn’t bear to hear such things about Richard. “I told you when he forced you to Join with him that it was only a temporary arrangement. You were not blessed with such full curves and such big, brown eyes and such lovely hair—though it looks perfectly frightful at the moment—only to be the wife of a lowly physician—and a Kindred physician at that!”

  “Who cares if he’s a doctor—that’s an honorable profession!” Caroline exclaimed. “And he’s a lot better looking than Lord Harkens, too. That man must be pushing fifty—he’s way too old for me!”

  The other mother gave her an odd look.

  “My dear, the age of the man who marries you signifies nothing—you know that. What matters is the social standing he can bring you. Don’t you want to be a Viscountess and have an estate in the country and a town home in the city and be accepted in all the best and highest circles?”

  “No, not really,” Caroline snapped. “What I want is to be left alone to get along with my husband—the one I’m married to right now, mother! And further more,” she went on recklessly. “I admire Richard for being in trade. Being a doctor is considered very prestigious where I come from! A lot better than sitting around on your ass all day feeling superior to everyone around you just because you inherited a title.”

  The other mother’s eyes widened and she stared at Caroline as though she’d started spouting blasphemy and nonsense in the same breath.

  “Caroline,” she exclaimed. “Will you listen to yourself? The language you used! And saying things are different where you come from as though you were from some other land?” She shook her head. “I’m afraid that lightening strike has quite disarranged your wits—you sound quite hysterical! Quite mad to own the truth!”

  An icy fist of fear clenched in Caroline’s gut as visions of being committed to a nineteenth-century insane asylum leapt to mind again.

  “I’m not mad, mother,” she said, trying to keep her voice low and even and non-hysterical. “I just don’t want to marry Lord Harkens. I’d rather stay with Richard.”

  “Well, I’m afraid what you want does not enter into it,” the other mother snapped. “You will accompany me to tea at Thrashings Hall tomorrow where we will meet his Lordship’s mother and you will make a good impression. Your only other option is a trip to Dr. Gropenor for a thorough examination of your womb.”

  “Examination of my womb?” Caroline could hardly believe what she was hearing. “Are you serious?”

  “Of course.” The other mother sniffed. “If you will not behave, we must try and diagnose the source of your hysteria and treat it before you move against your own best interests.”

  Caroline felt sick. Examination of the womb to try and cure hysteria? Was that an actual thing here, in this universe?

  Not for the first time since she’d been sucked through the window the PORTAL had created, she wished desperately that she’d read up on the Victorian era instead of just binging BBC period dramas where none of the hard or practical facts of nineteenth century life were actually covered. She felt so unprepared for life here and every time it seemed she’d found her footing, this new universe threw her a curveball.

  “Fine,” she said at last. “I’ll go. I guess tea with Lord Ha