Trapped in Time Read online

  “I never said that!” Caroline protested, feeling more frustrated than ever. Here she was, getting tangled up in the other Caroline’s life, which was apparently a mess, and it was keeping her from getting her own life back on track and getting home to her own universe.

  “You didn’t need to say it—every day and in every way it was implied,” Richard informed her stiffly. “Still, in light of the situation, I fear you must allow me to ply my trade and examine you to ascertain that you are well in both body and mind. I promise I will try to keep the examination brief.”

  “But—” Caroline protested and then realized it was no use. She couldn’t make him understand and they were almost out of the park by now since Richard’s long strides were eating up the distance. Also, it was more than likely that the window had already closed. The question was, would it ever open again?

  Not unless someone on the other side opens it, she thought grimly. And I’m the only one who knows how to operate PORTAL.

  For better or worse, she was stuck in this universe—at least for the time being. And she had no idea how she was ever going to get home.

  Chapter Four

  Despair overwhelmed her and Caroline gave up fighting to get back. Instead, she lay quietly and let herself rest in Richard’s arms. She felt numb inside, as though the cold, drenching rain had somehow soaked through her skin to find her heart and she just couldn’t move.

  Richard didn’t speak to her, he just carried her tirelessly onward, though it couldn’t have been easy for him. She certainly wasn’t as skinny as the heroines in her favorite dramas, who could be toted around with no effort by the heroes, Caroline thought grimly. Still, he never seemed to get tired. He must be extremely strong.

  The front of his shirt was damp linen which felt slightly scratchy against her cheek but the muscles under it felt firm and warm. It was still raining and she turned her face in towards his chest, trying to shield herself from the fat droplets falling out of the sky, which was a dark, purplish gray.

  They left the park area and soon Richard was striding down a paved street lined with old-fashioned-looking lampposts. These had big globular heads inside of which small flames flickered. Due to the rain there were no pedestrians but Caroline did see several vehicles driving along the street beside them.

  A few were horse-drawn carriages but there were also strange-looking brass and wooden coaches. These were round and reminded her a little of Cinderella’s pumpkin which had turned into a carriage. Each had a driver perched up high on a bench at the front and a round door on the wood-paneled side. In the back was a large wind-up key like the kind you might see in an antique toy.

  Caroline wondered who in the world would have the strength to wind the huge keys—they were three feet wide and appeared to be made of heavy brass. Were they purely ornamental or did the strange pumpkin-shaped coaches actually run by clockwork? The vast keys turned steadily as they drove by, making a tic-tic-tic sound but the wind-up carriages seemed to move as quickly and efficiently as the horse-drawn ones.

  She was so intent on looking at the bizarre traffic that she nearly missed the houses they were passing. When she finally looked away from the road, her breath caught in her chest. Immense Victorian-looking mansions with cupola towers and gabled roofs, their wide front porches spread like a lady’s apron around them, were passing by as Richard strode tirelessly on, still carrying her in his arms.

  “Beautiful,” she whispered, blinking her eyes to see better in the rain. It looked like something out of one of her beloved period dramas. She couldn’t believe that such a place could actually exist in reality.

  Well, in an alternate reality, she reminded herself. I suppose that technically anything is possible here, since this is a whole different parallel universe.

  Just then, Richard turned off the main street and down a narrow alleyway between two of the houses—a nice pale blue one and a forbidding gray one trimmed primly in white.

  The change of route, away from the main street, made Caroline nervous.

  “Where are you taking me?” she blurted, looking up at him.

  “Why…home, of course.” He nodded in the direction of the big gray mansion which was on their right. “I thought it best to go around to the servant’s entrance. If your mother sees you in this state she will doubtless become agitated in the extreme.”

  “My…mother?” Caroline’s heart did a somersault in her chest. She wondered if the mother here would be anything like the mother she had lost back home.

  Her mother had been a happy, laughing woman despite her intensely intellectual pursuits. She loved to share jokes with Caroline and their relationship had developed into a genuine adult friendship before she and Caroline’s father had died so suddenly. If there was even a chance that the mother in this world was anything like her own…Caroline’s heart ached at the very thought.

  “Oh, my mother!” she whispered.

  “Yes, of course—your mother,” Richard said, frowning. “She already disapproves of me. The sight of you wearing naught but my coat would certainly set her off.”

  “It would? Why? Can’t we just tell her about the lightning strike?” Caroline asked.

  “I doubt she would believe it,” he said dryly. “I imagine she might think I had…” he cleared his throat, “Had outraged you in some way. I would not give her reason to worry so about her only child.”

  “Outraged me?” Caroline tried to think what he could mean by this strange euphemism which clearly stood for something besides making her really angry, which was what “outrage” meant in her own world. Richard’s language patterns seemed to be straight out of a BBC production but she still found some of his expressions confusing. “What do you mean?” she asked, giving up at last.

  “You know precisely what I mean,” he said, frowning. “I told you on our Joining night that I would never give you cause to reproach me in that way.”

  “In what way, though?” Caroline asked, still confused.

  “A gentleman cannot say more to a lady and remain a gentleman,” Richard replied shortly—and entirely too obliquely for her taste. “Ah—here we are. Can you reach out and ring the bell?”

  He had climbed the wooden back steps of the tall gray house as they spoke and he was indicating a small black handle hanging beside a large white door.

  Caroline reached out and pulled the handle and heard a jingling sound inside. Almost at once, the door opened and an older woman with graying hair tucked neatly under a little white cap was standing there. She was wearing some kind of uniform, Caroline thought—a long black dress with a long white apron Her eyes went wide when she saw them and her hand fluttered to her mouth like a plump bird.

  “Goodness gracious, Master Richard!” she exclaimed. “Whatever can this mean? What has happened to the Missus? Is she quite all right?”

  “That remains to be seen, Dixon. There has been an accident in the park and I must get your mistress into her room directly,” Richard answered curtly. “Stand aside and let us pass, if you please.”

  “Oh yes, sir! Of course, sir!” The maid—if that was what she was—stepped hastily to the side and fumbled a rather clumsy curtsey. Caroline thought Richard would go right past her but he turned to speak to her first.

  “Where is Mrs. Lambert, Dixon?” he enquired.

  “Oh, she went calling to the Harrisons, so she did!” the servant exclaimed. “I expect she’s stuck there now, what with this rain.”

  Caroline heard Richard breathe a sigh of relief and he muttered, “Thank the Goddess.” Aloud he said, “Very well, I’m going to take Miss Caroline up to her room. See that we’re not disturbed—I must examine her.”

  “Oh, of course, sir. Yes, sir!” Dixon exclaimed.

  Richard nodded and brushed past her, still carrying Caroline. They made their way through an old-fashioned looking kitchen with some strange brass appliances, through a parlor decorated in flocked wallpaper, velvet furniture and an austere but colorful hurricane lamp, and up a