Not Quite Darcy Read Free Page A

at.
    â€œWould you,” he continued, “be more certain about participating if it weren’t merely satisfying your curiosity about the time? If there was a purpose to the trip? A greater good?”
    â€œWell, sure. I mean, assuming all of this stuff isn’t rhetorical. Which it has to be.” She gave a nervous laugh. Such a thing wasn’t possible. She knew this. Any sane person would.
    York smiled timidly at her and gave her a hopeful smile. “If there was a compelling reason to go or something out of place that you could set straight, would you be more willing to participate in such a venture?”
    Eliza blew her bangs out of her eyes. “Traveling through time to right a wrong? Kind of like a female, all-human, temp version of Doctor Who . Sure, I’d be game for something like that.” She tried to sound flippant, but couldn’t help but wonder what was going on with this pair. Perhaps they were involved in some kind of elaborate Doctor Who cosplay. It would go a long way to explaining all the general weirdness of the situation, and it went right along with the whole “British” thing.
    â€œA picture is worth a thousand words. Or so they say.” Lancaster stood up and whirled around to the large rectangular object behind his desk. He lifted his hand to sweep the material to the side, but York stopped him.
    â€œJames, you’re going to give her no more preamble than that?”
    â€œYou’re the one who keeps reminding me that Americans prefer the direct approach, Archibald,” Lancaster snapped.
    Lancaster tugged on the cloth. Eliza braced herself as it fell to the floor. She was almost disappointed to see a simple mirror, albeit one with a very elaborate gilt-edged frame. Reflected in it she could see Lancaster, York, and herself seated before Lancaster’s desk. Her dirty-blonde hair was a disheveled mess and her green eyes reflected a lot more wide-eyed fear than she would have expected. She tucked her features into a controlled mask of calm.
    â€œVery nice mirror you’ve got there,” she said in a perky, soothe-the-loony voice.
    â€œAs a scholar of his time, I’m certain you’re familiar with Lewis Carroll?”
    â€œAlice, Wonderland. Yep.” Eliza nodded. Though the mirror seemed a common-enough object, she was unable to take her eyes from it.
    â€œThis device would follow along with Mr. Carroll’s ideas. Please, step around to get a better view,” Lancaster said. “Our thirty minutes aren’t over yet. I assure you, you’ve nothing to be afraid of.”
    â€œI’m not afraid of it.” She gulped. “This whole situation is just a little weird, that’s all.”
    She slipped past the desk and approached the mirror. The frame’s gold finish snapped and sparkled as she neared.
    â€œTouch it.” Lancaster’s baritone rumbled in her ear and nearly made her jump.
    He stepped past her. “Like this.” He placed his palm in the center of the mirror for just a moment, then pulled his hand away and gestured for her to do the same.
    Cautiously, she held her hand up to the mirror. As she inched toward the bright surface, she felt a slight electric buzz dance across her skin. She fought the urge to scratch and pressed closer. The strange frisson intensified. Her instincts told her to pull back, but she caught a smug look in Lancaster’s eyes and pushed her palm flat against the surface.
    The buzzing sensation ceased as though someone had thrown a switch.
    She watched, mesmerized, as the mirror began to ripple, like waves receding from a thrown pebble. She snatched her hand back and stared at it in wonder as the reflection of the office dimmed and an entirely different scene shimmered into view: a rainy London street, apparently in Victorian times, as the few scattered people in the scene were dressed as though they were costumed for a Charles Dickens production.
    It was