Down the Rabbit Hole

The artist smiled a little and picked up the coin. Weston felt a moment of panic but the man merely looked at it, then set it down. Weston wondered what the man might have wished for, had he known it could grant wishes.

“All right, my lord. It will be a challenge, but I can rise to the occasion. Can you tell me what these items symbolize so I can cast them in the proper light?”

The locket was easy; the others took a moment of thought. “The locket symbolizes the love of my life. The train car is the future of England, and the coin, well, the coin represents all that we wish could be.”

The artist nodded as though he understood perfectly. “I will consider, my lord, and let you know if I need you to pose again.”

Weston grimaced. He hadn’t considered that possibility, but it was too late to back out now.

He left the conservatory and sent one of the footman to ask Miss Kemp to join him in the library. It seemed to take forever but he suspected that was only his imagination.

He was not going to tell her that he had already told his aunt and his sister that he was going to marry her, nor that he’d included the locket in his portrait. He would tell her he loved her and that he hoped the twenty-first century had shown her, as it had shown him, that anything was possible where two hearts were as one.

He paced the room while he waited, touching items at random; a porcelain figurine on the mantel that reminded him of his sister, one of the leather-bound books that looked as though it was frequently pulled from the shelf, the velvet softness of a tulip in one of the arrangements that appeared on a regular basis. His aunt’s doing, no doubt. How many rooms did she fill with flowers?

Why should a trip through time awaken in him the realization that he did not know his household, his family, or his world as well as he should? Because he now knew how temporary it was? How easily space and time could be shifted to a different reality?

Weston doubted that he would ever time travel again, but once was enough to change his view of this world and to realize that the future was, in some part, up to him.

The footman opened the door and Alice entered. She came to him, smiling a little but with her hands folded neatly at her waist and not the slightest sign of nerves.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Kemp.” He gestured to the footman to leave the door open.

“Thank you, my lord, for considering the proprieties.”

He nodded. “It’s nice to see you smiling,” he began.

“I do believe that Mr. Arbuckle’s Miss Amy did me a favor. Lady Anne is so relieved to have her gone and me in her place that she has yet to find fault with any of my suggestions.”

“About that, Alice, there have been some changes in the last hour. I talked to Anne about what she truly wants from her London Season. What she truly wants.” He went on to explain his sister’s true wishes and how he was going to permit her to have the Season she longed for.

Alice took it all in and stayed silent almost a minute. Well, for thirty seconds, at least. “Does that mean there is no place for me here now?”

He took a step closer to her, but when she stiffened just a little he did not reach out for her. “There is a place for you here. If there is one thing I learned in the future it is that times change, but they can only change if someone sets the change in motion.”

“Yes, divorce is so commonplace in the future that it seems absurd that it spells social ostracism here.”

“And we can begin that change if we set it in motion by marrying and announcing to the world that love is more important to us than social acceptance.”

“So our possible marriage is going to change how the Regent and the ton view marriage and divorce?”

“I have no doubt of it,” Weston said, ignoring her skeptical tone. “If we show the world that we mean to be a part of society despite your parents’ behavior, then I am convinced that eventually they will accept us.”

Alice nodded but was still not smiling. “And given that Lady Anne’s true reason for her Season is to enjoy music and not necessarily to find a match, we need not worry about how our marriage will affect her prospects?”

“Exactly.”

“Weston, darling man, I would marry you in a minute if the reaction of the world were my only concern.”

As she spoke, Alice took a step back; several, in fact. Her voice was so full of regret that Weston was afraid, actually afraid.

“What society would think was a logical reason to refuse you before, but now, the reality of the future has made me see it differently.” She drew a deep breath and shook her head. “The real reason is far more personal.”

“Tell me.” He was angry now, and he knew it showed in his voice.

“I will.” With another breath she began. “Do you know how many times my aunt told me I was just like my mother? Just like her.” Alice closed her eyes. “The very thought terrifies me.” She put her hand on her heart. “It fills me with a soul-wrenching fear that I will commit myself to you and then make your life, our lives, a living hell.”