Trapped in Time Read online

  “Oh, magnificent,” the other mother breathed reverently as they followed the brass butler through the entryway and into a kind of atrium. Here there were potted tropical plants—and even trees—everywhere. Overhead was a domed glass ceiling which let in the murky light of the afternoon.

  The butler halted at the entrance to the atrium and, to Caroline’s surprise, at last began to speak.

  “Mrs. Lambert and her daughter, Caroline, here to see you, Lady Harkens,” it said in a high, tinny voice that sounded like a scratchy old recording. It didn’t open its molded brass lips to speak—indeed, Caroline didn’t think they could open. Instead, the sound seemed to come from somewhere around the vicinity of its brass chest.

  “Eh—what’s that?” someone asked.

  Looking around the butler, Caroline saw a tiny, wizened old lady with silvery hair perched on a dark maroon horsehair sofa with elaborately scrolled back and sides. Sitting opposite it was a chair and a loveseat, both the same shade of maroon and both clearly part of the set.

  Surrounded, as they were, by the tall, leafy potted plants and trees, it looked like someone had taken a fabulously expensive drawing room set and plunked it down in the middle of the rain forest.

  “What did you say?” the little old lady asked again. Picking up a curly silver ear trumpet, which looked to Caroline a little like a miniature French Horn, she put the small end to her ear and looked expectantly at the butler.

  But the other mother was, apparently, too eager to wait for a second introduction from the mechanical servant.

  “Oh, Lady Harkens,” she bawled, stepping forward and raising her voice until Caroline winced. “I am Mrs. Lambert and this is my daughter, Caroline. We are so honored to be taking tea with you today!”

  “Tea, is it?” At first the little old lady looked confused, but then she seemed to recollect herself and nodded eagerly. “Ah yes—tea! Quite right—William said you would be coming. Please—be seated.”

  “Thank you, thank you!” The other mother gave her a deep curtsey and Caroline did her best to follow suite, though she had never learned to curtsey in her life. After a moment, she and the other mother were seated across from Lord Harkens’ mother.

  The other mother took the love seat, so Caroline settled herself on the chair. This way, she reasoned, she was out of elbowing or pinching range—the other mother wasn’t above such tactics to let her know when she was doing something wrong—which seemed to be nearly always.

  “Now then, Jock.” Lady Harkens addressed herself to the Tick-Tock butler. Perhaps because of her hearing loss, she misjudged the sound of her own voice so that she was practically shouting at the mechanical servant. “Bring tea!” she yelled at him. “Lots of cucumber sandwiches! Oh, and that new sweetening syrup too—I like that!”

  The butler bowed jerkily. “Yes, Milady,” the tinny, mechanical voice said, issuing again from its chest. Then it walked off with its stiff-legged gait, leaving the three of them alone.

  Caroline sat quietly while the other mother attempted to make polite conversation with Lady Harkens. She might have tried to join in—as revolting as she found the Viscount himself, his mother seemed nice enough—but the other mother talked so much there wasn’t much for her to do but nod at intervals in the shouted conversation.

  At last another brass Tick-Tock servant came into the atrium, pushing a silver tea service on a rolling cart. This one was a maid, with a molded brass dress that seemed to be part of her legs for it split down the center when she walked. She lifted the heavy silver tea tray and placed it down on a low table in front of Lady Harkens. Then she looked at the old lady, her yellow lamp-like eyes glowing.

  “Will there be anything else, my Lady?” she asked. Once again, the voice issued from the chest and Caroline was startled to find that it was the exact same voice the butler had used. Maybe whoever invented these things only had access to one voice and had used it for all the Tick-Tocks. Whatever the case, it sounded just as eerie coming from the maid as it had from the butler.

  “No, Matilda, you may go!” bawled Lady Harkens. Then she addressed herself to pouring out the tea. Caroline was a little afraid that the steaming silver teapot might be too heavy for her to handle, but the little old lady seemed to be stronger than she looked because she handled the tea pouring with ease.

  “Now then,” she shouted at the other mother. “Will you have sugar or sweetening syrup in your tea? I have a new kind that comes all the way from the New World and it’s very tasty indeed—it gives one such a lift.”

  “No sugar for me, Lady Harkens if you please!” the other mother shouted back. “But Caroline will have some—she takes her tea quite sweet.”

  “Yes, yes—sweets to the sweet!” Lady Harkens cackled as she dropped three sugar cubes into Caroline’s teacup and then added a heavy dollop of pale golden syrup from a brown glass bottle.

  Caroline wondered if her tea was going to taste like pancakes—was the stuff from the “New World” maple syrup? But luckily when she took a sip, there was no maple flavor at all—it was simply very sweet tea.

  “It’s good, isn’t it?” the old lady asked loudly, smiling at her. “I only take a little myself because too much gives me heart palpitations but a young miss like you can certainly have more and appreciate the flavor.”

  Did too much sugar really give her heart palpitations, Caroline wondered. How strange—but whatever.

  “It’s very good, thank you, Lady Harkens,” she said loudly and distinctly.

  “Yes, yes—you enjoy it, my dear!” The old lady nodded at her eagerly, making a motion for her to drink up.

  Since Caroline liked sweet tea and because Lady Harkens was watching, she went ahead and drained the cup. But only moments after setting it back down on her saucer, she began to feel strange.

  First, a rush of heat seemed to go through her and then her heart began to pound like a drum. Her palms began to sweat inside her proper lace gloves and she felt suddenly as though she was tingling all over.

  Oh my God—what’s wrong with me? What’s happening? Is something affecting me? What was in that tea?

  She glanced at the silver tea service and her eyes fell on the brown glass bottle sitting beside the sugar bowl. There was a label on it, but Caroline couldn’t read it from where she was sitting.

  “Excuse me, Lady Harkens,” she said loudly. “But could I see that bottle of sweetening syrup please? I’d like to know what’s in it.”

  “What’s in it, you say?” the old lady shouted. “Why nothing but cane sugar and a bit of cocaine—that’s all, my dear.”

  “Cocaine?” Caroline looked at her, wide-eyed. “You poured cocaine in my tea?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she jumped up and grabbed for the bottle. Turning it over, she read the label.

  “Mrs. Winslow’s Delight—a sweetening concoction which will lift your spirits!” it read. “Made of only the finest cane sugar and the purest extract of cocaine.”

  “Oh my God,” Caroline muttered, her heart pounding harder than ever. “There really is cocaine in this!”

  “Caroline, whatever is the matter with you?” the other mother demanded. “You’re being abominably rude! Sit down at once.”

  “Cocaine—she put cocaine in my tea! Right in my tea and I drank it—I drank it all!” Caroline exclaimed. She was aware that she was talking very loud and fast but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

  “What of it?” The other mother looked irritated. “There is cocaine in a great many things, as you know. My friend, Mrs. Fellows, swears by the cocaine throat drops she takes to control her allergies. And only yesterday Mrs. Bunting was telling me of the miraculous cocaine soothing syrup she uses on her youngest child, Violet—she tells me it helps her overcome her excessive shyness.”

  “I’m sure it does—she’s probably tripping balls,” Caroline said bluntly, then clapped a hand over her mouth. You can’t talk like that! whispered a worried little voice in her head. You can’t, Caroline—eve