pester her to death. Instead of teaching a week at summer theatre camp, she was moping around Jamie’s house with a pile of movies, a boatload of snack food, and a greyhound that refused to get full.
“You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are what they were last April, please tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged.” Mr. Darcy’s eyes melted Leah from the TV screen, that beautiful deep voice rumbling through her bruised heart. “But one word from you will silence me on this subject forever.”
Leah mouthed the reply with Elizabeth Bennet. “I am ashamed to remember what I said then. My feelings are so different. In fact, they are quite the opposite.”
Baron whined again and pawed at Leah’s hand, shaking the tortilla chip free. He snatched up the forbidden snack and trotted happily to his bed beside a large mirrored bureau. Crumpling the chip bag closed, Leah tossed it on the side table atop her MacBook and lost herself in her favorite movie for a few more minutes.
She sniffed and wiped away her tears at the sight of Mr. Darcy kissing his new bride as they rode away in the carriage. Why wasn’t life really like that? Modern guys—well, the ones she’d dated anyway—wouldn’t know chivalry if it bit them on the ass.
The power button clicked beneath her finger and the TV went silent. Baron yawned and stretched, then trotted toward the kitchen, leaving Leah alone with nothing but her contemplation and half a bag of chips. A warm tugging began in her chest, a feeling she couldn’t place at all. She glanced over at the bureau.
Jamie had traveled through that mirror. It was some kind of time portal, Leah knew. It stood silently—tall, gleaming, with an almost otherworldly allure. Her Converses hit the floor with a soft thump, and before she knew what was happening, she stepped toward the antique bureau.
The mirror’s gilt edge gleamed at her, beckoning her onward. She couldn’t keep herself from reaching toward the glass, and she couldn’t stop her fingers from dipping into the mirror as if it were the cool waters of a pond.
Her mouth fell open in wonder. She pushed farther, relishing the tingling feeling that ran through her fingers and palm. This was insane. She should be scared. Lord knew what time period this mirror might dump her in. She should be screaming for help. But she wasn’t, and she didn’t. She smiled and pushed her arm through up to the elbow.
Excitement thrummed through her. Jamie had met her true love—an earl!—after a trip through the mirror. Leah bit her lip as the pulling grew stronger. Her shoulder was nearly through now.
A soft whine interrupted her, and reality cracked her on the skull. What the hell was she doing?
“Oh shit,” Leah said, yanking backward. “Baron, wait! I can’t…I’m stuck, I’m—”
Something pushed her from the other side of the glass, and Leah popped free. She staggered backward, landing on the couch with a thump.
“Oh good heavens, Baron, do get out of the way, or I shall tread on you.”
Leah bolted upright with a screech. Scrambling over the edge of the couch, she darted for the baseball bat she knew Jamie kept in the coat closet. Her heart thumped wildly as she brandished the Louisville Slugger at the intruder.
“Who are you? How’d you get in here?”
The bat clattered to the floor when Leah’s brain finally clicked with what she was seeing. A short, rotund woman was climbing out of the bureau mirror—out of the mirror Leah had just tried to dive through.
“What the hell?” Leah’s knees gave way with shock. She clutched the edge of the sofa for stability as the woman’s feet hit the floor and she straightened her skirts. What was going on here?
“Language, dear,” the little woman admonished her with a motherly smile. She was dressed in a dark gown made of rough wool. Her grayish hair was done in a severe pulled-back style, not a wisp out of place. Her round face held laugh lines at the corners of her eyes, giving her a pleasant expression. Her simple dress and hairstyle were appropriate for a high-ranking servant of the nineteenth century. Only one person Leah had ever heard of fit the description.
“Are you—” Leah stopped, swallowing the knot of confusion that swelled in her throat.
“Pardon. I am Mrs. Knightsbridge.” The woman bobbed a curtsy. “Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
Leah’s heart pounded so hard she was sure it would leap straight out of her chest. “Leah. Leah Ramsey. I’m Jamie’s friend.”
“Oh, my dear Miss Ramsey. Miss Jamie told me so much about you.” The little lady patted Baron on the head as he lapped her hand. “What a pleasure this is at last. I would dearly love to see Miss Jamie, and his lordship, of course. Are they at home?”
“I’m sorry,” Leah said, shuffling from foot to foot. For all her theatre history and costume knowledge, she was a little light on time-traveling-visitor etiquette. “They got married two days ago. They’re on their honeymoon.”
Mrs. Knightsbridge clucked her tongue and sighed. “Oh goodness, what a bother. I have arrived too late for the nuptials. These time shifts are becoming so unreliable.” She shook her head. “There is no hope for it. I shall have to go back and attempt to time my arrival more appropriately.” The little woman stepped toward the bureau again.
“No, Mrs. Knightsbridge, wait!” Leah jumped forward and grabbed the woman by the elbow. “Please, just a minute.”
“Yes?”
Leah swallowed hard. The words came of their own volition, and she couldn’t stop their complete rush. “I need to ask you something.”
Mrs. Knightsbridge arched a brow in a knowing manner but waited for Leah to continue.
“It’s my grandfather. I’m worried about him. He started talking yesterday about dying.” Leah ran her nails along her jeans, the rough edge of her thumbnail picking at the cotton. “I know you’ve got powers. Jamie told me. Is something going to happen to him? Is he sick and not telling me?”
“Why ask me, dear?” Mrs. Knightsbridge laid a hand atop Leah’s.
“Because I know you see things. The scrying. That’s how you found Jamie, right? Can’t you tell if something’s wrong with Pawpaw?”
Mrs. Knightsbridge shook her head, and Leah’s hopes slipped through the floor.
“I do not have what I require for that, my dear. But”—she smiled conspiratorially—“I can assist you in the same manner I assisted Miss Jamie.”
Her hopes leaped through the floorboards and lodged straight in her chest, making her heartbeat a ragged thump. “Really? You can send me to another time and place?”
“Of course,” the housekeeper said.
Leah jammed her hands in her pockets to keep them steady. She was almost vibrating, she was so excited. Go back in time? To when the gentlemen knew how to treat a lady, to when class was something everyone aspired to? She could find someone there, someone who appreciated her. Someone her grandfather would approve of. Someone who wouldn’t dick her over like Kevin had. And with time travel, she could be back before anyone knew she’d gone.
She grinned. “Let’s do it.”
Besides, who wouldn’t jump at the chance to visit Regency England?
The scuff simply refused to budge from the duke’s favorite Hessians. Avery Russell sighed and resumed polishing the expensive leather boots. His Grace would be quite put out if these weren’t presentable in time for the next morning’s calls.
“Russell, are you about? I must speak with you.”
Avery didn’t look up from his work at the butler’s supercilious tone. “I am here, Mr. Smythe.”
