Page 5 of A Time Traveler’s Masquerade (A McQuivey’s Costume Shop Romance)
M iss Isla Crawford was of an unsound mind. It was the only logical reason for her outlandish claims. A world filled with carriages that ran without horses, hot and cold water accessed from within the house, and contraptions that allowed people to fly. Such things were beyond anything Simon had ever imagined. Beyond anything the foremost authorities in any scientific field had likely ever imagined. It was completely preposterous. And yet Miss Crawford spoke of the contrivances with such earnestness and detailed description, he found himself envisioning these miraculous devices and advancements.
“And you say this horseless carriage can travel faster than my mount at full gallop?” he asked. At some point, she would surely be caught in her own fabrications.
She eyed him more thoughtfully than he had anticipated. “How fast can your horse go?”
“How would you have me measure it?”
“Do you use miles?” she asked.
“I am familiar with the distance,” he said. “The measurement was set forth in Queen Elizabeth’s reign.”
“Okay, how many miles do you think your horse could travel in an hour?”
Okay ? Her speech was peppered with oddities. They were impossible to ignore. Had she purposely made up words to persuade him to believe her story? “If he were given his head, Blaze could travel the best part of forty miles in that time.” Blaze was the fastest mount Simon had ever owned, and he could not help but allow a touch of pride in his response. He did not add that the horse would be completely exhausted by the time it reached its destination.
Unfortunately, Miss Crawford did not appear overly impressed.
“My car can go double that without any difficulty,” she said. “But there are other cars made especially for racing that can go five times that speed.”
Faster than a gale-force wind? Miss Crawford’s grasp of speed and distance was obviously as erred as her concept of time. “That is impossible.”
“But I’ve seen it! When I was younger, my brother made me watch the Indy 500 and the Monaco Grand Prix with him on the telly. Those cars were going close to two hundred miles per hour.”
Indy 500. Grand Prix. Telly . What on earth did those words mean? Simon had never considered himself a dunce. Indeed, in his youth, he’d excelled in his classes. But at least half of what Miss Crawford had just said was lost on him.
His bafflement must have shown on his face because the vibrancy she’d exhibited when she’d spoken of cars evaporated, to be replaced by an air of disappointment.
“I understand,” she said. “When you haven’t seen or experienced something for yourself, it’s hard to imagine that it exists. Up until yesterday, I would never have believed time travel was possible.” Her shoulders drooped. “And yet, here I am.”
She looked away, and Simon received the uncomfortable impression that she might be crying. Blast it all. He’d offered her five minutes of his time, and they’d been sitting on this damp bench for close to thirty. But he was no nearer knowing what to do now than he had been when she’d first told him she’d arrived from the future. The young lady was quite obviously delusional, and the safest thing to do would be to send her on her way with a cloak, a pair of shoes, and some basic provisions. Yet he could not shake the impression that the logical solution was not the correct one.
He needed more time to think this through. More time to observe her. And more time to listen—to her and to his feelings.
“May I have your permission to share what you have told me with Lord and Lady Maidstone?” he asked.
She nodded and wiped her fingers across her cheeks before turning to face him. “I think they need to know, don’t you?”
“I do.” At the sight of her tear-stained face, Simon experienced a pang of self-reproach. No matter its ludicrousness, it was clear that she believed her own story, and Simon could not help but admire her courage. Had most young ladies of his acquaintance conceived of a situation so desperate or frightening, they would have been too distraught to leave their beds this morning.
“I should probably be the one to tell Lord and Lady Maidstone.” Her fingers were clasped around the edges of his cloak, her white knuckles the only outward sign of her anxiety. “Although, if you’d like to be there, too, I’m fine with that.”
“Then, I shall join you,” he said. Not only would he benefit from the retelling, but it might also be best if someone else were in the room when Miss Crawford attempted to convince his brother-in-law of her fantastic account. Simon had no idea how Maidstone would react. “Unfortunately, if you wish to speak with Lord and Lady Maidstone together, the meeting may need to be postponed a little while. My sister is rarely awake this early.”
“Oh.” She appeared momentarily nonplussed. “I’m afraid I have no idea what time it is.”
“I would guess we are approaching nine o’clock,” he said.
She blinked. “I am usually at work by now. What time does your sister get up?”
“She should be available within an hour or so,” he said, but his attention was drawn to her earlier comment. “What manner of work are you referring to?”
“I’m an assistant to a member of Parliament.”
Simon eyed her with concern. “Forgive me, but you are a young lady.”
“Yes.” A smile tugged at her lips, and with shock, he realized how badly he wished to see her happy. “Then again, my boss is also a lady.”
“Your boss? What is that?”
“The person I work for,” she said. “The member of Parliament for the York Central District in 2025 is Ms. Audrey Marshall.”
Simon attempted to gather his wits. He could scarcely comprehend a scenario that included ladies in the chambers of Parliament. It was as unthinkable as a gentleman taking to the air in flight. He ran his fingers through his hair. This conversation had become fully out of hand.
“She was voted into power by the people of Yorkshire,” Miss Crawford said, and then, as if sensing his disbelief, she continued. “By the turn of the nineteenth century, women in England will begin entering the workforce, taking on jobs in the mines and on farms. That movement continues to grow as new industries spring up across the country. In the early twentieth century, women are granted a vote in elections, and in the England I know, there are very few things that a woman cannot aspire to do or achieve.”
“Including running the country,” Simon said.
Miss Crawford’s smile blossomed. “We’ve already had a couple of female Prime Ministers. From the mid-1700s on, that’s the highest elected position in the country.”
Simon’s mind was reeling, and he could not tell where to place the blame. Miss Crawford’s outrageous claims about life in the future were staggering, but the fact that it was becoming more and more difficult to believe that she could fabricate such things was far more disturbing. If she was truly who she claimed to be, the ramifications of her arrival here were immeasurable. Then again, his visceral response to the warmth of her full smile may well be the most immeasurably concerning thing of all.
He needed to leave this bench and experience some normalcy, but he couldn’t very well leave Miss Crawford here alone. Until he and the Maidstones determined the seriousness of her instability, she should not be left alone anywhere in the house or on the grounds. Being among other people would be a good thing. Preferably people who would accept the unusual young lady’s presence without questioning her background and who would not care one jot if Simon was struggling to string his thoughts into a coherent whole.
He rose to his feet. “Come,” he said. “We have conversed long enough for now. I have completed my morning ride, and you have ascertained that the Maidstones’ woodshed is nothing more than a woodshed. It is time that we returned to the house. After so fraught a discussion, I believe we would both benefit from a visit to the nursery.”
“Now?” She stood. “Didn’t you say Lady Maidstone won’t be up yet?”
“I did. Which is precisely why it is the perfect time.” The thought of being with his nephews lifted his spirits. “If Martha is in her chambers still, the boys will be free to be their naturally boisterous selves.”
“The boys or you?” Miss Crawford asked.
Grateful that their conversation had turned to a more lighthearted subject, he grinned. “I believe it would be safer if I opted not to answer that question.”
“I see.” She eyed him speculatively. “I am beginning to understand why Lady Maidstone was so reluctant to have you visit the nursery last night.”
With a soft chuckle, he offered her his arm. “Being with Will and Sam will be a pleasant diversion from your troubles. You shall see.”
The servant, Hobbes, was at the door when Isla and Lord Bancroft entered the house. Lord Bancroft offered the man his hat, and rather reluctantly, Isla handed over Lord Bancroft’s cloak. There was no fireplace in the entrance hall, and the temperature in the drafty room didn’t feel any warmer than it had outside.
“If Lord or Lady Maidstone inquire after me or Miss Crawford, please tell them we have gone to the nursery and will join them for breakfast shortly,” Lord Bancroft said.
Hobbes inclined his head politely. “Very good, my lord.”
Somewhat surprised that Lord Bancroft was willing to postpone eating in exchange for time with his nephews, Isla walked with him across the hall and up the stairs. On the landing, they turned right, away from the room Isla had used the night before. They hadn’t gone far when the sound of young voices reached them from the end of the hall. Lord Bancroft continued until he reached a closed door on the left.
Pausing, he set his hand on the doorknob. “Prepare yourself,” he warned. “They may be a little rambunctious.”
Isla smiled. “I have three nephews. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them, but I know all about rambunctious boys.”
He nodded, and although Isla received the distinct impression that he wasn’t fully convinced, he opened the door and ushered her in ahead of him.
A fire burned brightly in the fireplace, and the room was blissfully warm. A rug covered a good portion of the wooden floor, and a large, multipaned window let in the morning sunlight. In one corner of the room, two young boys who looked so alike, they had to be twins occupied the small stools positioned at a low wooden table. A middle-aged woman stood nearby, her gray gown covered in a white apron. Isla guessed that she was the nursemaid. The boys were eating their breakfast, but the moment they caught sight of Lord Bancroft, all thought of food seemingly fled. Scrambling to their feet, they hurled themselves at the gentleman with cries of delight.
“Uncle Simon!” they called in unison.
The young boy wearing tan breeches and a red jacket narrowly beat his brother in the green jacket across the room, and seconds later, Lord Bancroft had a child attached to each leg.
“What is this?” Lord Bancroft said, feigning shock as he tousled both boys’ fair hair. “The last time I visited, two four-year-olds dressed in gowns lived here, and now there are two young men.”
“We had a birthday, Uncle Simon!” the boy in green cried. “And Mother said we must wear breeches.”
“Just as Father and you do,” the child in red said.
“Good heavens,” Lord Bancroft said. “Does that mean you are too grown up to play with me?”
“No!” They both laughed, and then the one in green reached for Lord Bancroft’s hand.
“We have new animals. Come and see!”
“Just a moment.” There must have been something in Lord Bancroft’s voice that caused the boys to pause, because the tugging on his arm suddenly stopped. “I would not have thought that you would both so quickly forget your manners?”
The boys exchanged a chagrined look, and then slowly, reluctantly, they turned to face Isla.
“Miss Crawford,” Lord Bancroft said, “may I introduce Master Samuel Winslow and Master William Winslow. Sam and Will, this is your mother’s houseguest, Miss Isla Crawford.”
The boys bent at the waist in a bow. Isla bobbed a curtsy, thankful that no one seemed to notice or care how poorly she’d executed it. The children straightened and glanced at Lord Bancroft. He raised an expectant eyebrow.
“Good morning, Miss Crawford,” they chanted in unison.
“Good morning, boys,” Isla said. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
Lord Bancroft then gestured to the woman still standing beside the table. “Miss Crawford, this is Miss Tomlinson, the boys’ nursemaid.”
“Good morning,” Isla repeated.
“And to you, Miss Crawford,” the older woman said.
“We shall not interrupt you for long, Miss Tomlinson,” Lord Bancroft said.
“Not to worry, my lord. The boys generally play for a bit after their breakfast.”
As though waiting for that very cue, the boy in red—Isla still wasn’t sure which was which—resumed his tugging on Lord Bancroft’s arm. “Now?” he asked. “Can you see the animals now?”
“Very well,” the gentleman said. “And perhaps Miss Crawford would also like to see them.”
“Would you?” the boy in green asked, appearing surprised.
“Absolutely,” Isla said, pleased when her enthusiastic response garnered a grin. “Show me your favorite one first.”
With whoops of delight, the twins ran to the corner of the room where an assortment of rudimentarily carved wooden animals were set up end to end in a straggling line.
Isla leaned a little closer to Lord Bancroft. “Which one is Sam, and which one is Will?” she whispered.
“My guess is that Will is the one in green,” he muttered. “But until I see the back of his neck, I cannot tell for certain. Will has a small birthmark there that sets him apart.”
Given that both boys had shoulder-length hair, spotting the birthmark was going to be tricky, but Isla crossed the room beside Lord Bancroft, willing to follow his lead.
“Look!” The boy in green raised a wooden animal to show her. “My new one is a fox, and Sam’s is a bear.”
Lord Bancroft had been right. Mentally assigning the green jacket to Will, Isla reached for the toy. The wood had been smoothed to a shine, and although the creature was without eyes or a mouth, its long snout, thin legs, and thick tail made it easy to identify.
“Wow! That’s brill!” Isla said.
Will’s brows came together. “What’s ‘brill’?”
“Brilliant,” Isla answered.
When the confusion in Will’s eyes didn’t clear, Isla tried again. “It’s marvelous!”
This time Will smiled. “It’s just like a real one!”
“Yes.” Isla smiled even as she made a mental note to think more carefully before she spoke. Lord Bancroft obviously wasn’t the only one struggling to interpret her modern words and slang.
“My favorite is the hare,” Lord Bancroft said, picking up a small wooden piece with long ears. “They run faster than the wind.”
“Foxes eat hares,” Will cried, pouncing on Lord Bancroft.
“So do bears,” Sam yelled, and within moments, the three of them were entangled in a wrestling match on the floor that involved a great deal of giggling on the part of the twins and mock groans of pain from Lord Bancroft.
“Save the hare!” Lord Bancroft shouted. “He’s done nothing wrong!”
Will rolled over, clambering for the small toy in Lord Bancroft’s hand. “But bear says he tastes delicious.”
“Bear thinks everything is delicious,” Lord Bancroft countered, swinging his arm above his head. “He should try frog.”
Isla laughed. It was the first time she’d laughed since she’d stepped out of the changing room, and it felt wonderful.
“Frog, I tell you.” Lord Bancroft was virtually hidden beneath the boys’ flailing arms and legs. “Bear and fox would like frog so much better.”
Sam’s leg swung out, and Isla shifted a little to the left to avoid the melee. Her foot knocked over a couple of the wooden animals still on the floor, and when she reached for the closest one, she discovered that it was a frog.
“Frogs do taste delicious,” she said, raising the toy in one hand. “But bear and fox will only discover that if they catch him.”
Gathering her skirts in the other hand, she darted across the room. Behind her, the boys scrambled to their feet, and suddenly, they were chasing after her.
“We love frogs!” Will cried, with Sam hot on his tail.
Isla laughed and circled back around to Lord Bancroft. “Here,” she called, tossing him the wooden frog as he came to his feet. “I can run, but in this gown, wrestling is beyond me.”
“Uncle Simon has the frog!” Sam yelled, and as one, the boys tore past Isla to attack Lord Bancroft again.
“Good heavens! Whatever is happening in here?” At the sound of their mother’s voice, Will’s and Sam’s feet came to a stuttering halt, and their attention diverted to the door.
“Mother! Uncle Simon is here!” Will said breathlessly.
“And Miss Crawford,” Sam added.
“Yes, of that, I am fully aware,” Lady Maidstone said. “And I would think half the population of Little Twinning also knows it by now. I’ve never heard such a fracas.”
“I apologize, Martha,” Lord Bancroft said, looking not the least bit sorry. “It was my doing.”
Lady Maidstone gave him a long-suffering look. “Honestly, Simon. If Miss Tomlinson weren’t such a saint, you would cause her to leave her position. She’s the one who is left to deal with Will and Sam after you’ve turned them into human tornadoes.”
Lord Bancroft had the decency to offer the nursemaid a more sincere look of apology. “Forgive me, Miss Tomlinson. Next time, I shall take them outside and allow you some time away from the human tornadoes.”
“Taking them outside does not sound any more calm and decorous,” Lady Maidstone said.
“Of course not.” He winked at her. “Where would be the fun in that? I would simply be providing Miss Tomlinson with a well-deserved respite.”
Lady Maidstone set her hand on her forehead and groaned. “One day, you shall grow up, Simon. The boys may rue the day, but I shall cheer.”
Lord Bancroft smiled and dropped to one knee beside the twins. Placing an arm around each of them, he spoke to them in a low voice. “Boys, I need you to treat Miss Tomlinson especially well today. Mind her every word, and do exactly as she says the very first time she asks. Is that understood?”
The boys nodded solemnly. “Yes, Uncle Simon.”
“Well done.” He tousled their hair again and rose to his feet. “I knew I could count on you.”
“Will you come back to the nursery soon?” Sam asked.
“That all depends upon how well you listen to Miss Tomlinson today.”
“We will be very good.” Sam nudged Will.
“Yes, very good.” Will gave Isla a shy look. “Can Miss Crawford come back too?”
Isla sensed Lady Maidstone’s surprise, but she kept her attention on Will’s earnest expression. “If I’m still here the next time your mother allows a visit, I would love to come again.”
“You run fast,” Will said as though that fully explained the personal invitation.
Lord Bancroft’s cough sounded suspiciously like smothered laughter.
“Thank you, Will,” Isla said.
The little boy beamed. “Next time, I will show you my top. It goes around and around.”
“I’d love that.”
“I have a top as well,” Sam said.
“Maybe we could try spinning them at the same time,” Isla said.
“A race!” Will cried.
This time, Lord Bancroft did nothing to hide his laughter. “No more unruly competitions, or your mother will never allow me or Miss Crawford into the nursery again.”
“Yes, indeed,” Lady Maidstone said, the look of fondness that she gave the twins belying her serious tone. “Next time, we shall have your uncle meet you outside in the yard. You can show him how well you ride Marigold.”
The boys cheered, and Lady Maidstone smiled. Isla glanced at Lord Bancroft. Humor danced in his eyes as he watched Sam’s and Will’s enthusiastic response, and Isla received the distinct impression that he knew exactly what they were feeling. He’d probably had a similar joyful zest for life as a child.
“Unlike the two of you, your mother, Miss Crawford, and I have yet to eat this morning, so we shall leave you now,” he said, reaching for the door. “But if I learn that you behaved well for Miss Tomlinson the remainder of the day, I shall see you in the yard tomorrow morning.”
Lady Maidstone bent down and gave each boy a kiss on the top of their heads before sending them back across the room to their waiting nursemaid. “Is it wrong that I wish they could stay young a little longer?” she asked. “Breeching them seemed to age them by at least five years.”
Lord Bancroft ushered her and Isla out of the room. “They are wonderful little gentlemen,” he said. “And I speculate that you shall find something to enjoy at every age that lies ahead.”
“Even thirteen?” she asked.
He grinned. “Just because I persecuted you at that age does not mean Will and Sam will do the same.”
“I shall hold fast to that hope,” Lady Maidstone said, looking utterly unconvinced. And then she turned her attention to Isla. “I have yet to ask how you are faring this morning, Miss Crawford.”
Lost. Terrified. Overwhelmed. Half an hour ago, those would have been Isla’s foremost emotions. Now, thanks to a little time with two five-year-old boys and their playful uncle, she was able to answer more calmly. “I slept well. Thank you for allowing me to stay.”
Lady Maidstone looked pleased, but it was Lord Bancroft who spoke first. His expression had turned from playful to grave. “Miss Crawford has some rather startling information to share. Perhaps after we’ve eaten, we could reconvene in the parlor and have Maidstone join us to discuss her situation.”
“Of course.” Curiosity lit Lady Maidstone’s eyes, but she led them down the stairs without pressing for anything more. “I shall inform Hugh that we require his presence at the top of the hour.”
Isla inched closer to Lord Bancroft. “Thank you,” she said softly.
He gave her a puzzled look. “For what, exactly?”
For listening to her bizarre tale. For not abandoning her outside. For requesting time with Lord and Lady Maidstone on her behalf. Now that she thought about it, she owed Lord Bancroft a great deal of thanks today. But the moment he’d mentioned a meeting, her chest had tightened, and she’d realized again what a gift her time in the nursery had been. “For taking me to meet the twins,” she said. “You were right. Spending time with them was exactly what I needed.”
“You were certainly up to the task when faced with Will’s and Sam’s high spirits,” he said. “It must be that you truly do have young nephews.”
“I do. Ages six, four, and two.” She paused. “Everything I told you about myself this morning is the truth.”
They’d reached the bottom of the stairs. Lady Maidstone had gone ahead, but Lord Bancroft paused and gave Isla a searching look. “Including where you came from?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, meeting his dark eyes and willing him to believe her. “Including that.”