Part Two
“Oh, no! Oh, no! Please, no!” the same voice murmured, over and over again.
The voice belonged to a woman of slim build, her hair pulled up in an elaborate style and a similar colour to Honey’s but a shade more blonde. She wore a floor-length dress with a tight bodice and might just have stepped out of a period drama. But as Trixie looked around the group, she saw that they were all dressed that way. Instead of the Cameo, they stood in a long room with several closed doors.
Honey took a tentative step forward. “We do not, I think, have the pleasure of your acquaintance.”
All of the Bob-Whites, Honey included, gasped. Not only were the words unfamiliar, but her accent had changed. Gone was every hint of America, replaced by a decidedly English sound.
“How vexing!” Honey exclaimed. “Whatever has happened to me?”
“To all of us,” Di corrected, gesturing to her long gown.
“The chain,” the unknown woman muttered. “You have broken the chain.”
“I do not see any chain,” Brian observed, looking all around the floor.
The woman shook her head. “You do not understand. I speak of a different kind of chain, a symbolic chain. It held me on my path, but you have broken it and now we are lost.”
“Lost?” Trixie asked. “How are we lost?”
Honey laid a hand on her best friend’s arm. “First, may we make your acquaintance?” She introduced each of her friends, causing more than one wince as she used each of their full names.
“My real name is Vanda Marcellus,” the woman answered. “But in this time, I think I will be… Miss Violet March. I am what is known as a Traveller.”
Trixie’s eyes widened. “Do you mean that you are a time traveller?”
Vanda nodded. “In your time, that would be the correct understanding.”
“And in this time?” Mart wondered.
“That would depend very much on where and when we are,” she answered, eyeing their surroundings shrewdly. “I suspect that in this time the concept had not been given thought.”
Jim stepped forward. “What do you suggest we do, Miss March? Shall we venture through one of these doors?”
“Indeed, no!” Vanda snapped. “You may think that you look the picture of a gentleman of this time, but you will find your manners quite deficient, should you try to converse with one of its true inhabitants and I fear we do not have time for lessons in proper behaviour. No. First, we must find out when and where we are. The accents are a very good clue; all those who have spoken thus far have sounded English. Speak, the rest of you, that I may examine your voices.”
“It is only I who has not hitherto spoken,” Dan told her.
A small smile teased Vanda’s lips. “By your countenance, I see that you did not expect quite those words. I should explain. I hold a small item.” She held up what looked to be a box intricately carved from dark wood, its top inset with mother of pearl. “Ask me not how it works or what it does. It does not do well to know too much of the future. All you need to know is that while I hold it, I – and, it seems, any who travel with me – will always be equipped in attire and in speech for their destination. But I do not control the destinations, only the timing of the jumps.”
“Using the – the – object that we found under the chair in the – oh, why is it that I cannot say the words?” Trixie stamped her foot with frustration.
“That is a discussion that would be better left for a future time,” Vanda replied. “This time does not yet have the words you wish to use and you cannot use words that do not exist; that would cause a paradox.”
“If we can repair this chain of which you speak, might we travel to a future time?” Brian asked. “What would you have us do?”
Vanda shook her head. “The chain cannot be repaired. Even if it could, we have neither end. I am certain that this is not twenty-second century Greece, which was to have been my next destination. Nor is it eighteenth century Boston, which was the one prior to my visit to your time.”
“You travel in both time and place?” Trixie asked, a slow grin spreading across her face.
“Of course.” Vanda looked at Trixie as if she had taken leave of her senses. “The Earth rotates each day and it orbits the Sun each year, not to mention the movements larger still. Places do not stay where they are. That is merely an illusion.”
Jim, who stood near one of the windows said, “You wanted to find out when and where we are. How do we do that?”
“I think I now know,” Vanda admitted. “The speech, the clothes and the room all tell me that we are in the early part of the nineteenth century in England. It is at least a twelvemonth since I have visited this time, or I might recall more closely when these sleeves were popular. But I do not suppose a year or two matters. Let us say that it is around the year 1815.”
“How do we return home?” Trixie wanted to know.
Vanda frowned. “That is indeed a vexation. I should have no trouble returning to my own time, but you are another matter entirely. If Suletu finds that I brought you here… she will be indifferent to your fate and no amount of entreaty will provoke her to help you.”
Trixie’s eyes widened. “Sue who?”
“Soo-LEH-too,” Vanda repeated, more slowly. “Suletu Stark. She is the one who set the chain for me. I am unable to make chains for myself. It is a highly-esteemed position and one not to be coveted by such as I.”
“You cannot make chains and we have no chain and the person who can make the chains will not deign to help us?” Di asked, with a note of hysteria rising in her voice.
“And so, we must work to elude her,” Vanda continued, heedless of the fuss. “She will expect me to act in a certain way. We shall not follow that path.” She glanced around. “We shall, all of us, depart this place and wander the neighbourhood. Should anyone speak to us, we are a travelling party, waylaid by a trifling matter with one of our carriages and stretching our legs while it is attended to.”
“What benefit is there to this course of action?” asked Brian, frowning.
Vanda glanced down, not meeting his gaze. “I believe it is for the best. That is all I can say at this time.”
Trixie peered out of one of the long windows that punctuated one side of the room. “I see no one. Make haste; we may be discovered here at any moment.”
She fiddled with the latch until she found how to undo it and stepped out onto the terrace. A vast lawn stretched out ahead of them and to both sides of the enormous house. Looking around, Trixie noticed a path leading off into the surrounding garden and, grabbing Jim by the hand, she headed in that direction, with the others following her.
“Miss Belden!” Vanda chastened, in a lowered voice. “That is not proper!”
Trixie turned and frowned. “Pray, what do you mean? Should I walk more slowly?”
The Traveller gestured to their hands. “It does not do to be quite so familiar with gentlemen. You may, if you wish, put your arm though his, but beyond that, do not touch him.”
Most of the others smiled at the look of confused disbelief on Trixie's face.
“Allow us to demonstrate,” her brother Mart offered, looking to Diana. “Miss Lynch?”
Di tucked her hand into the crook of Mart’s elbow and they began to stroll down the path, taking the lead of the group. Trixie rolled her eyes at them, but followed suit.
After a few minutes, the path split. To the right stood an ornate archway; to the left, a grove of small trees.
“Which way?” Di asked.
Vanda pointed to the smaller branch on the left. “We shall go this way. It appears more commodious to our purposes.”
“You still have not explained what those purposes are,” Brian pointed out as they wended their way through the grove.
“But sir, I have. I wish, very much, to avoid meeting Suletu.” She glanced back towards the grand house, of which only a glimpse of roof remained in view. “I fear that if we remain in this vicinity, we shall be discovered at any moment.”
“But beyond that?” he enquired, even as they walked along the path.
For a long moment, she did not answer. Those at the front of the group had emerged into the sunshine on the far side of the trees. Trixie was in the process of climbing over a stile into the field beyond the garden, which was surrounded by a tall and prickly hedge.
“I have not yet determined what our best course shall be,” she admitted, at last. “I am hopeful that some opportunity will present itself.”
“That is not comforting,” he answered.
Vanda shrugged. “It was not intended to be.”
The rest of the group cleared the stile and they followed a dirt track out into open countryside. Behind them, the house came back into view, though its lower levels were masked by the gardens. At the far edge of the field, they crossed another stile and emerged onto a country lane.
Vanda peered to the right and the left, but the limited view gave little clue to where they might be. The opposite side of the lane was bordered by another hedged field, but this one without a gate or stile to cross. They could only see as far as the lane remained straight, which was not very far at all.
“I think we shall have to just choose a direction,” Vanda murmured, frowning at the surrounding hedges.
Behind them and to the right, a strange noise echoed through the air and a wave of light washed over them. A bird took flight from a nearby tree in alarm.
“What was that?” Di demanded.
Vanda turned to the left and hitched up her skirts. “We shall go this way. With great haste, if you please.”
“But what was it?” Trixie wanted to know, while struggling to manage her garments.
“Suletu is here,” Vanda explained. “Those who belong in this time will have neither seen nor heard her arrival, but for us it is plain. In the usual way, I should be hastening to her. Come, we must hurry.”
“What shall happen, should she find us?” Di asked, as she scurried to keep up.
Vanda shook her head. “Pay it no mind. Just do as I say.”
They followed the lane for more than a mile, and were passed only by a farm cart whose driver looked at them without curiosity, before reaching a crossroads with a broader road. Two houses were visible to the left and none to the right. Straight ahead, the lane narrowed. Vanda hesitated, peering down each road in turn.
“It is a risk,” she admitted, “but I think we shall take that one.” She pointed to the left. “Do not speak, should we meet anyone, unless you must. Allow me to take the lead.”
“What risk do we face?” Brian asked, walking next to Vanda once more. “What should we look out for?”
She turned to him in consternation. “Why, people, of course. The right inhabitants of this place are our main threat. Should they discover that we do not belong, we will all be in mortal peril.”
Honey’s eyes widened. “You think they will kill us?”
Vanda shook her head. “No, but we will be in peril nonetheless. Pray, do not ask me further. Come. We must find safety.”
The lane meandered through scattered houses, emerging shortly into a small town. A couple of horse-drawn vehicles passed them as they entered and several more were in view. The street was filled with people, going about their daily business. The group drew many curious glances, but no one approached them.
“Many of these people are less finely-dressed than we are,” Diana noted, in a worried murmur. “Is that why they stare?”
Before Vanda could do more than shake her head, a lively group of red-coated men emerged from a doorway a short distance away. One of them started in surprise, then smiled at Trixie.
“I shall meet you later,” he told his companions. “I see someone I must speak to.”
He approached, followed by one of the others.
“Miss Belden!” the first man greeted, obviously delighted to see her. “You will be pleased to know that you now address Captain Woodford.”
“Oh! I am pleased.” Trixie glanced at Vanda, who was gesturing desperately from behind Brian, but could not understand what she was supposed to say or do. “That is very good news indeed.”
“I did not think to happen across such pleasant company in such a place as this,” the militiaman continued, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “Shall I perhaps see you at the ball that the Palmers hold this night?”
“Oh. I am sorry. No.” She glanced again at Vanda, who gestured for her to continue. “No. We are only passing through. Our carriage… is… has something wrong with it… and we will be going, as soon as it is repaired.”
“I hope that the trouble is not serious,” he replied.
Trixie shook her head. “It is but a trifle.”
Woodford frowned. “That is a good thing and yet I confess I am disappointed. Pray, what is your destination? Perhaps we shall see each other on another occasion.”
“I… know not,” Trixie answered. “May I present my friend, Miss March?”
Vanda bowed her head and curtsied, at which point Trixie understood the earlier gesticulation and silently groaned. Introductions were made all around and Woodford’s companion proved to be a Lieutenant Crawford.
“We travel to stay with my Aunt and Uncle Smith,” Vanda explained. “I believe it is another fourteen miles’ journey, though I know not in which direction, or even very well where we might be.”
The red-coated man’s face contorted. “This is the village of Thornhampton. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. You should be cautious here.”
Lieutenant Crawford laughed. “Come, Woodford. You do the place a disservice. You only say that because of your own foul luck in–”
“I have more reasons than one to say so,” the other man interrupted.
“We certainly shall be careful,” Trixie replied. “How long do you stay here?”
“A few days more,” the man answered, “then we go on to Eastholm. It is not much more than fourteen miles’ journey. Perhaps I shall see you again soon.”
Trixie smiled. “Perhaps.”
The man nodded to her, she managed a clumsy kind of curtsey in return, and each party passed on its way.
“How did he know me?” Trixie demanded of Vanda, almost before they were out of earshot.
The other woman shook her head. “I am utterly perplexed! I have never encountered the like in all the time I have been travelling.”
Trixie frowned. “What do you suppose it means?”
Before she could answer, Diana spoke up.
“Miss March? Is it normal for there to be such a glow as I see above that building?”
Vanda turned in that direction, eyes widening. “You can see that?” She muttered something under her breath, which sounded rather like, “Not here, too!” Then urged them all to move in that direction.
“What is it?” Trixie asked, rather breathlessly.
“An anachronism,” Vanda explained. “An item out of its own time. Removing such items and returning them to the place they belong was to have been my entire mission. Another Traveller has scattered them everywhere. He thinks it amusing! But it can cause the most serious of problems. And yet, this is not one of the places he should have been. No, it cannot have been him!”
“He cannot have made a chain for himself?” Trixie asked.
Vanda scoffed. “Sef Rider? No, he is far inferior to myself in both skill and experience.”
“Then, who?” asked Honey.
“That is what we must discover.” Vanda gestured for them to follow her around the back of the building at the end of the row. “And we must find the item. It is close; I can feel it. And to answer your earlier question, I fear that the fact that you are known here means that more mischief has been made by your coming here than I had previously thought.”
“Uh, Miss March? May I ask what Suletu looks like?” Mart asked, from the back of the group.
All of them turned to follow Mart’s gaze. A woman in perhaps her forties or fifties with straight, dark hair and olive skin strode towards them, a haughty look on her rather striking-looking face. She did not seem to have noticed them, but was peering through the doorways of each building as she passed it.
Vanda gasped. “She is here. Hurry!”
She grasped Trixie’s arm and drew her along the side of the building and into a shed at the back.
“Here. It is here, but I do not know where! Please, help me find it!”
The seven set to work, poking through the items stored there and debating among themselves on the likelihood of their belonging to the time in which they stood. Vanda flitted from one to another, rejecting object after object.
“Here!” Diana cried, holding up a rotary eggbeater.
“But how do you know?” Brian demanded of her. He held up a tool of some sort. “I think it might be this.”
“Because its patent date is 1857,” she answered. “It’s written here!”
She nudged the handle and it began to turn slowly and smoothly. In defiance of the laws of physics, it began to describe a figure-8. A golden glow surrounded Diana.
“Quick! Touch it!” Vanda cried.
All of them surged towards Diana and put a hand on the eggbeater just as the air turned white and then everything went black.
Place names came from an English place name generator (https://dev.blueottergroup.com/Online%20Tools/English%20Place%20Names.php). Someone actually did patent a rotary eggbeater in 1857. Notes about other names are at the end of the story.