“But I didn’t save your brother.”
“Well, technically you did prevent the duel, even though you couldn’t prevent his death,” Deirdre said.
“And he wasn’t really our brother,” Mina added. “So you succeeded, even if not the way we expected.”
“What we know now is that our task wasn’t learning a lesson or doing something ourselves. We were merely the tools used to set a few events right that had somehow gone wrong. You helped us do that. Uncle Huxley inherited the title as he should have in the first place. And he was a marvelous guardian.”
“But he inherited the title before.”
“Yes,” Mina interjected. “But this time, because of what he learned about Teddy through your intervention, Uncle Huxley didn’t want us to wear mourning for such a brother, so he took us on his world tour. We collected thousands of specimens for his collection. Deirdre and I became quite expert at catching butterflies and moths and had such a wonderful time.”
“Did Huxley find his new species?”
“In New Guinea,” Deirdre said with a wide grin. “A stunning iridescent blue and green wing with a row of pink spots along the outer edge. The adults measured six to eight inches across. Magnificent. He named it Papillio huxdeirmin.”
“I’m so happy for him,” Eleanor said.
“Extinct now, unfortunately. That’s a specimen on that wall,” Mina said, nodding toward a framed butterfly that looked like a print.
“You should buy it,” Deirdre whispered. “When Uncle died we donated his entire collection to the British Museum, except for a few we kept for sentimental reasons. That silly female who runs this place has a price tag on it of forty-five pounds. It was worth thousands when we were alive.”
“And we want you to have it,” Mina said. “To remember us by.”
“As if I could forget you.”
Deirdre stood. “We just wanted you to know how much we appreciate your help. Now we really should go. Our husbands have been quite patiently waiting for us.”
“Wait! Did you marry brothers? I worried that since I prevented you from meeting—”
“We did marry brothers,” Mina said. “Magnificent, brilliant, kind, handsome Dutchmen we met on a butterfly hunting safari into central Africa.”
“They didn’t speak a word of English, and we didn’t speak any Dutch.”
“Oh, but what fun we all had learning.”
“Mina,” Deirdre said, her tone an admonishment.
“I’m glad,” Eleanor said. She wanted to ask them about Shermont, yet she debated whether to do it. She wanted him to have had a happy, fulfilled life and to have found love. Did she really want to know the details?
The ghosts said their good-byes, but as they faded, Eleanor heard them arguing yet again.
“We should have told her,” Mina said.
“She’ll find out soon enough,” Deirdre said.
“Wait! Come back! Tell me what?” Eleanor jumped out of bed and ran to where they had been. “That’s not fair,” she said to the ceiling. She spun around in a circle and wanted to yell and scream. “Damn it.” She stomped her foot, but it didn’t provide the same satisfaction as when she was wearing shoes. “Come back. Please.”
A long silence was her answer.
She sank into one of the chairs and dropped her head into her hands. Now she would never know about Shermont.
“The reason I was so hesitant,” Deirdre began.
Eleanor looked up to find the ghosts seated in the window seat. “You came back.”
“Obviously. Although materializing and dematerializing is quite draining.”
“Just tell her,” Mina said.
“Yes, well, the reason I was so hesitant when Mina first suggested taking you back in time to stop the duel is because we had already taken someone back earlier. That had ended with disastrous results. When we brought you to the present, we had to bring the other time traveler back as well.”
Eleanor connected the explanation to Patience’s disappearance into thin air. No wonder it was a disaster. She couldn’t think of a worse person to take back.
“Because of the necessity of bringing two of you back together and the limits of our available energy, we have returned you to a point two years in the past, if you measure from when you left. You are at the point when you visited the inn the first time. That’s why you’re in a different room. It’s the one you stayed in then. As far as anyone here knows, you arrived last night.”
“We’re quite pleased it worked out so well,” Mina said.
“Wait a sec.” Eleanor was a bit confused and plenty worried. “Won’t returning to an earlier time create a time paradox? An anomaly? Am I going to explode upon meeting myself?”
The ghosts giggled in response. “Good heavens, no.”
“Each individual is unique,” Deirdre explained, “and cannot exist in duplicate form. When you came back in time, you replaced the previous Eleanor completely. Quite simple, really. Elegant. As are most big truths of the universe.”
“But I remember everything that happened.”
“Yes. Your experiences during those two years and what you learned on your trip to the Regency made you stronger. Therefore, you, as the more powerful force, replaced your younger, weaker self. You are still you. The one and only you.”
Eleanor was still uncertain, but she had to accept it as truth. She hadn’t believed time travel was possible … until it happened. Still, if she met herself in the hallway, she was going to run in the other direction.
“Are you happy now?” Deirdre asked Mina as they started to fade.
“Wait! Please.”
The ghosts rematerialized.
“Please,” Eleanor said. “Tell me about Shermont. Did he have a good life? Did he marry and have children?” Her voice caught in her throat. “Did he find love?”
The ghosts looked at each other.
“We can’t say,” Deirdre said.
“Does that mean you don’t know or that you just won’t tell me?” Eleanor managed to keep her tone even despite her frustration.
“We did leave England just a few weeks after Teddy’s death and didn’t return for nearly twelve years,” Mina said. “After Uncle Huxley died we buried him at sea off Madagascar in the glorious Viking funeral he always wanted, and we continued his work. Until we decided the children needed to go to school. Such a handful they were. Climbing in the rigging, swearing like sailors, vowing to become pirates—even the girls. But they turned out—”
“Enough,” Deirdre said. She turned to Eleanor. “We’ve brought you our journals.” She motioned to the stack of more than a dozen slim leather-bound books on the table, some well-worn, some new looking. “We hid them so no one would ever find them. We fetched them earlier this morning.”
“While you were still sleeping.”
“Please consider them a thank you present. If you want, you can read all about our lives. You can probably auction the books off for enough money to put your business venture on solid footing. Now, it’s time for us to go.”
“Wait. You do know what happened to him? Lord Shermont?”
“Yes, we—”
“Mina!” Deirdre’s sharp tone was more than a warning.
“Why won’t you tell me? You told me all about your lives.”
“We have limitations. His story is not ours to tell,” Deirdre explained.
“What if I ask you to take me back? What if I want to stay there permanently?”
Deirdre shook her head. “I’m sorry. That was never an option. You are where you are supposed to be.”
“You have been given the chance to relive two years of your life. A great gift,” Mina said.
“Use it wisely,” Deirdre added.
As they faded, Eleanor called, “Will I ever see you again?”
They didn’t rematerialize, but she distinctly heard their voices.
“Yes, when you—”
“Hush, Mina.”
To her surprise, Eleanor was heartened by the prospect.
Chapter Seventeen
Eleanor closed the book, stood, and stretched. After spending the morning reading the tiny handwriting in the journals, her eyes felt grainy, and her shoulders were cramped. She smiled. The girls had certainly led an exciting life. And she was only a quarter of the way through the stack of journals.