Chapter Eight

I remembered all too well how tiring the transfer through time was.  I’d also needed time to adjust.  I led her to my bed and helped her get comfortable.  Elizabeth hadn’t been notified of my return and she wouldn’t be looking for me until it was time to dress for dinner.  This gave Isabelle a few hours of rest before we had to worry about her presence in my room.

I moved around the room as quietly as I could so as not to disturb her.  Even though I’d been the recipient of Isabelle’s surprise visit, I was still anxious to learn as much as I could about Margaret.  After fingering through her meager belongings, I sat in one of the armless baroque chairs placed against the wall opposite the room’s entry.  I took a moment to admire the remarkable comfort of the seating while stroking the thick floor to ceiling tapestry that hung on the wall.  Its intricate wooded scene was breathtaking. I couldn’t resist running my hand along the artful design.  I became so obsessed with following the fine lines of the artwork that I stood to make it easier.  As I did, the heel of my riding boot slipped from beneath me and I lost my balance.  Rather than catching myself with my hand against the wall, I fell even further as I quickly discovered that the tapestry was covering a large opening in the wall.

I was about to look behind it when I heard Elizabeth in the adjoining sitting room of my suite.  I couldn’t believe how the time flew by.  She was obviously coming to help me dress for dinner.  I looked out at the position of the sun and was surprised to see that it wasn’t in the right position to indicate the approaching dinner hour.

I looked worriedly at Isabelle as she lay peacefully on my bed.  Panic was creeping in.  How would I explain her presence to the household?  I’d been so focused on studying Margaret’s belongings that I hadn’t taken the time to devise a story.  My heartbeat wildly as I listened to Elizabeth approaching my door.  She wasn’t alone.  I assumed it was a servant with my bath.  I went riding, after all. My mind raced at what to do.  Memories of my lessons with Isabelle flooded forth. Thoughts and ideas of magic she hadn’t even gone over were almost overwhelming. 

Without even thinking I said in a firm, hushed voice, “In the light of day or the dark of night, hide this woman from their sight. If by chance her face they see, let it look exactly like me.”

I watched the energies swirl around Isabelle’s peaceful body as her dark features transformed into my light ones.  Satisfied, I slid into the opening behind the tapestry just before Elizabeth entered the room.

I heard her gasp and shush the servant accompanying her when she saw my friend and mentor’s sleeping form.

“I had no idea m’ lady was returned,” she whispered.  “Be as silent as you can, Garth.  ‘Twill not do to disturb her rest.”

I heard heavy footsteps cross the wide planked floor toward my bed.  I held my breath and waited.

“She looks the angel,” Garth whispered. “I have ne’r been this close before.”

“You should not be so now.  Be about your business and be gone,” Elizabeth snapped.

I listened intently to the bustling of Garth and Elizabeth as they prepared my bath and laid out my clothes.  I worried over the fact that their activity did nothing to disturb Isabelle.  I wanted to check on her to make sure she was okay and prayed the servants would leave soon.

To my dismay, Garth left, but Elizabeth stayed behind.

I had no idea what to do.  It was only a matter of time before Isabelle woke up.  With Elizabeth in the room, I certainly couldn’t just pop out from behind the tapestry.  I had no idea what was behind me, but it seemed like a deep dark hollow or corridor.  It was definitely creepy.  I didn’t like the feeling I got while hiding there and it had nothing to do with the fact that I’d cast a spell to disguise Isabelle and I wasn’t sure how long it would hold.  There was something about this hidden room or hallway that bothered me.  It was more than the fact that it was dark and dank.  Since the castle was primarily built of stone and there was no electricity, dark and dank was a common thing in rooms that didn’t have a fire or proper window for light and ventilation.

I heard Elizabeth gently waking Isabelle and I went into action.  No longer was I thinking about the fact that Isabelle looked like me.  No longer was I worried about how I’d explain Isabelle’s presence to Elizabeth. My only concern was the danger to Isabelle should she be woken from her slumber too soon.  I leapt from behind the tapestry and grabbed Elizabeth from behind, placing my hand firmly on her mouth to muffle her startled screams.

I was about three inches shorter than Margaret’s lady’s maid. The heels of my boots gave me some added height, but the height difference still made it difficult to maintain leverage as she struggled to be free.  I was grateful for the martial arts training Duncan insisted I take after the mugging.  It helped me throw her off balance and sit on top of her until she calmed down enough for me to release her.

The shocked look on Elizabeth’s face would have been classic, had I not known how superstitious people of that era could be.  I’d grown fond of Margaret’s personal maid in the short time I’d been there. had no desire to frighten her like I clearly was.  My heart went out to her as I scrambled for an explanation for the situation.  There seemed to be none except the truth. 

So, I told it.

To my surprise, Elizabeth calmed down almost immediately.  She confided that the Margaret-Jane she knew before going to the future and coming back with amnesia was able to perform such spells.  To my surprise, the girl was totally comfortable with it. She was actually more comfortable with the spells than she was with the concept of my not being Lady Margaret. That, she told me, was impossible.

Apparently, not only did I have a face that was identical to Lady Margaret’s face and a name that matched hers as well, but I had marks in the same places on my body. I had to agree with her that it was a bit odd. I had no explanation for it.  None at all.

Isabelle slowly roused during my tussle with Elizabeth and managed to catch most of our conversation.

“I can explain it, if you wish,” she said softly, “but first, can you undo the spell. It feels rather odd to be you,” she smiled.

I eagerly retracted the words I’d spoken and smiled as my beautiful friend resurfaced.  Elizabeth gasped in appreciation and then affection.

“Greetings, m’ lady, it has been some time since you graced us with your presence,” the excited gentle woman said as she curtsied deeply.

I looked on curiously, but said nothing.  Through my experiences on this journey, I’d learned firsthand that observation often times provided more answers than questions.

“Ah, I see you have met my mother,” Isabelle said sweetly.  “Alas, although I appear to be Rosalie, I am not she.  I am Isabelle, daughter of Rosalie Johanna Remoras who reigns over the Spanish world of magic as queen.  She is powerful, beauteous, loving, fair, and most of all, a dear woman.”

Elizabeth stood up and walked closer to the bed.

“The resemblance is so that I could not tell you are not she. Now that I look closer, there are some differences; although very slight,” she said calmly.

“From my father,” Isabelle chuckled. “He is a privateer.  Did you know this?”

“I have heard it spoken, but knew not if ‘twas to be believed,” my attendant replied demurely.

“Believe every word,” Isabelle said wistfully. “He is the one person my mother cannot control. It is probably why she loves him so.”

“When did he die?” I asked.

“Oh, he is not dead yet,” Isabelle replied, “Nor is my mother.  In fact, I should not yet be born.”

“Yes, I forgot, sorry,” I muttered, suddenly feeling foolish.

“It is an easy thing to forget,” Isabelle sighed.

“May I ask something m’ lady?” Elizabeth directed her question to Isabelle.

“Of course,” she replied.

“You appear unwell.  What causes you to arrive here a sickly adult instead of the wee babe that you should be?” Elizabeth asked hesitantly.

I held my breath. I knew the answer, but I still dreaded hearing it come from my friend’s lips.

“I have been in the future with Lady Margaret and Lord Duncan,” Isabelle said to Elizabeth while locking eyes with me.

I received her telepathic message to keep quiet, loud, and clear.  Of course she would claim me as Margaret.  Until we knew what happened to her and had a clearer picture of our own future, it was probably best to keep certain things to ourselves.  I was feeling a little overwhelmed with the information we’d already shared and was grateful not to have to divulge any more.

Elizabeth looked at me cautiously as she said, “You mentioned nothing about finding Lord Duncan.”

“I remembered nothing,” I replied and then addressed Isabelle. “I have been suffering amnesia since my return.  Perhaps you will be able to shed light on the darkness I have been living in.”

“I will do my very best,” Isabelle replied as she lay back against the pillows Elizabeth had painstakingly puffed and fluffed. “For now, I must rest.”