dress. When she had her clothes on, she looked into the mirror and nearly started crying again. She looked awful! Her eyes were still red, and her hair was a tangled, frizzy mess—and she knew she had no way to repair the damage. As she looked into the mirror, she thought that if all women had to confront the world with the face God gave them, there would be a great increase in female suicides.
Putting her shoulders back, she left the bathroom, where she almost ran into Nicholas, as he was waiting for her in the hall.
“First we eat; then, madam, we talk,” he said as though his words were a dare.
Dougless merely nodded as she went ahead of him down the stairs to the little dining room.
Dougless smiled when they entered the room, and she remembered something she’d read in a guidebook. It had stated that there are two meals that should be eaten in England: breakfast and tea. When she and Nicholas were seated at a small table, the landlady began bringing in platters full of food. There were fluffy scrambled eggs, three types of bread, bacon that was like the best American ham, grilled tomatoes, fried potatoes, golden kippers, cream, butter, and marmalade. And in the middle of the table was a large, pretty porcelain pot of brewed tea that the landlady kept filled throughout the meal.
Ravenous, Dougless ate until she could hold no more, but she couldn’t come close to competing with Nicholas. He ate nearly all the food that was set on the table. When Dougless finished eating, she caught the landlady watching Nicholas curiously. He ate everything with his spoon or his fingers. He used his knife to cut the bacon while holding it in place with his fingers, but he never once touched his fork.
When he had finally finished eating, he thanked the landlady, then took Dougless’s arm in his and ushered her outside.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she ran her tongue over her teeth. She hadn’t brushed them in twenty-four hours, and they felt fuzzy. Also, her scalp itched.
“To the church,” he said. “There we will conceive of a plan.”
They walked quickly to the church, with Nicholas stopping only once to gawk at a small pickup truck. Dougless started to tell him about eighteen-wheelers and cattle trucks, but thought better of participating in his game.
The old church was open and empty, and Nicholas led her to sit on a pew that was at a right angle to the tomb. In silence, she watched him as he looked at the marble sculpture for a while, then ran his hands over the date and name.
At last he turned away, clasped his hands behind his back, and began to pace. “As I see it, Mistress Montgomery,” he said, “we need each the other. It is my belief that God has put us together for a reason.”
“I thought I did it with a spell,” she said, meaning it as a joke, but, actually, she was glad that he at last seemed to realize that she was not a witch.
“It is true that I believed that at first, but I have not slept since you called me into the rain and I have now had time to consider more thoroughly.”
“I called you?” she said in disbelief. “I never even thought about you, much less called you. And I can assure you that there weren’t any telephones in that field, and I certainly couldn’t shout loud enough for you to hear me.”
“Nonetheless, you did call me. You woke me with your need.”
“Oh, I see,” she said, starting to get angry. “We’re going back to your belief that I somehow, through some sort of hocus-pocus, brought you here from your grave. I can’t take this anymore. I’m leaving,” she said as she started to stand up.
But before she could move, he was in front of her, one hand on the high arm of the pew, the other on the back, his big body pinning her to her seat. “It matters not to me whether you believe or not,” he said, his face near hers, his eyebrows drawn together. “Yesterday morn when I woke it was the year of our Lord 1564, and this morn it was . .
Putting her shoulders back, she left the bathroom, where she almost ran into Nicholas, as he was waiting for her in the hall.
“First we eat; then, madam, we talk,” he said as though his words were a dare.
Dougless merely nodded as she went ahead of him down the stairs to the little dining room.
Dougless smiled when they entered the room, and she remembered something she’d read in a guidebook. It had stated that there are two meals that should be eaten in England: breakfast and tea. When she and Nicholas were seated at a small table, the landlady began bringing in platters full of food. There were fluffy scrambled eggs, three types of bread, bacon that was like the best American ham, grilled tomatoes, fried potatoes, golden kippers, cream, butter, and marmalade. And in the middle of the table was a large, pretty porcelain pot of brewed tea that the landlady kept filled throughout the meal.
Ravenous, Dougless ate until she could hold no more, but she couldn’t come close to competing with Nicholas. He ate nearly all the food that was set on the table. When Dougless finished eating, she caught the landlady watching Nicholas curiously. He ate everything with his spoon or his fingers. He used his knife to cut the bacon while holding it in place with his fingers, but he never once touched his fork.
When he had finally finished eating, he thanked the landlady, then took Dougless’s arm in his and ushered her outside.
“Where are we going?” she asked as she ran her tongue over her teeth. She hadn’t brushed them in twenty-four hours, and they felt fuzzy. Also, her scalp itched.
“To the church,” he said. “There we will conceive of a plan.”
They walked quickly to the church, with Nicholas stopping only once to gawk at a small pickup truck. Dougless started to tell him about eighteen-wheelers and cattle trucks, but thought better of participating in his game.
The old church was open and empty, and Nicholas led her to sit on a pew that was at a right angle to the tomb. In silence, she watched him as he looked at the marble sculpture for a while, then ran his hands over the date and name.
At last he turned away, clasped his hands behind his back, and began to pace. “As I see it, Mistress Montgomery,” he said, “we need each the other. It is my belief that God has put us together for a reason.”
“I thought I did it with a spell,” she said, meaning it as a joke, but, actually, she was glad that he at last seemed to realize that she was not a witch.
“It is true that I believed that at first, but I have not slept since you called me into the rain and I have now had time to consider more thoroughly.”
“I called you?” she said in disbelief. “I never even thought about you, much less called you. And I can assure you that there weren’t any telephones in that field, and I certainly couldn’t shout loud enough for you to hear me.”
“Nonetheless, you did call me. You woke me with your need.”
“Oh, I see,” she said, starting to get angry. “We’re going back to your belief that I somehow, through some sort of hocus-pocus, brought you here from your grave. I can’t take this anymore. I’m leaving,” she said as she started to stand up.
But before she could move, he was in front of her, one hand on the high arm of the pew, the other on the back, his big body pinning her to her seat. “It matters not to me whether you believe or not,” he said, his face near hers, his eyebrows drawn together. “Yesterday morn when I woke it was the year of our Lord 1564, and this morn it was . .
Similar Books
