Read Online Gideon the Cutpurse by Linda Buckley-Archer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Linda Buckley-Archer
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acquaintance of the Byng family and Peter demonstrates his soccer skills
Kate was unconscious for barely thirty seconds. When she came round, her face was drawn and her skin was white as paper. She felt sick and weak and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and escape from a reality that she was not ready to face--at least not just yet. Gideon carried Kate to a shady spot well away from the road and laid her gently on the grass. He took a shirt from his bag and folded it into a pillow for Kate's head. Then he gave his water bottle to Peter, saying, "Stay with her. We are close to Baslow Hall, Colonel Byng's house; I shall fetch a horse and will return as soon as I am able."
Peter took the bottle like a sleepwalker. His world had temporarily flicked out of focus, and he was quite happy for it to remain that way.
"Peter," said Gideon, putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Where have you come from?"
Peter looked up at him and realized he was going to have to decide whether to tell Gideon the truth. Could he trust him? He decided to follow his instincts.
"If this...is really...1763," Peter said in a halting voice, "then everyone I know is living hundreds of years in the future. Kate and I come from the twenty-first century. I don't understand how we got here. And I don't see how we can get back. I..."
Peter couldn't find the words to say anything else. He suddenly felt desperate.
Gideon's face did not betray what he was thinking. He nodded slowly and paced up and down for a couple of minutes before answering him.
"I mean no disrespect when I say that I can scarce believe that what you have told me is true, and yet...my heart tells me that you are not lying. Fate put me in that hawthorn bush to witness your arrival, and I promise you that I will do what I can to help restore you and Mistress Kate to your families."
Peter felt a surge of relief and gratitude welling up inside him. Tears pricked at his eyelids. "Thank you," he replied finally. "I'm not lying to you, Gideon--I don't understand how any of this happened, but I swear to you I'm not lying."
* * *
Peter watched Gideon stride away to Baslow Hall. He set to wondering if his mother, so far away in California, had been told that her son was missing and what she would do. He had not seen her for nearly two months. Would she drop everything, tell the film studio that they would have to do without her, and get on a plane? Would she miss him if he got permanently stuck in 1763? Then it occurred to him that if he'd had a father who kept his promises, he wouldn't be in this situation now.
* * *
The shadows were lengthening by the time Kate heaved herself up on her elbows and helped herself to some water.
"Are you okay?" asked Peter. Kate nodded.
"Lost in time," she said after a while. "Why couldn't I see it before? Everyone in fancy dress and speaking funny."
"I thought that's how people spoke in Derbyshire," said Peter with a grin.
"Watch it," said Kate. "And before you ask, my dad and Dr. Williamson at the lab are not trying to invent time travel. That only happens in stories. They're studying how gravity actually works."
"Will," corrected Peter. "They will study how gravity works."
* * *
An air of unreality descended on them while they sat in the warm, still air, waiting for Gideon. Peter sat obsessively folding and unfolding a slip of paper that he had found in his anorak pocket.
"You're like Sam; you're a right fidget!" snapped Kate, irritated. "What is it anyway?"
Peter unrolled the grubby scrap of paper and read, " Christmas homework. To be handed in to Mr. Carmichael on January eighth. Write five hundred words on: My Ideal Holiday."
They both burst out laughing but soon fell silent. Chance had thrown Peter and Kate together, and whether they liked it or not, each was now a key person in the other's life. But, of course, they had known each other for less than a day and a half, and neither had yet earned the other's trust.
After a
Kate was unconscious for barely thirty seconds. When she came round, her face was drawn and her skin was white as paper. She felt sick and weak and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and escape from a reality that she was not ready to face--at least not just yet. Gideon carried Kate to a shady spot well away from the road and laid her gently on the grass. He took a shirt from his bag and folded it into a pillow for Kate's head. Then he gave his water bottle to Peter, saying, "Stay with her. We are close to Baslow Hall, Colonel Byng's house; I shall fetch a horse and will return as soon as I am able."
Peter took the bottle like a sleepwalker. His world had temporarily flicked out of focus, and he was quite happy for it to remain that way.
"Peter," said Gideon, putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Where have you come from?"
Peter looked up at him and realized he was going to have to decide whether to tell Gideon the truth. Could he trust him? He decided to follow his instincts.
"If this...is really...1763," Peter said in a halting voice, "then everyone I know is living hundreds of years in the future. Kate and I come from the twenty-first century. I don't understand how we got here. And I don't see how we can get back. I..."
Peter couldn't find the words to say anything else. He suddenly felt desperate.
Gideon's face did not betray what he was thinking. He nodded slowly and paced up and down for a couple of minutes before answering him.
"I mean no disrespect when I say that I can scarce believe that what you have told me is true, and yet...my heart tells me that you are not lying. Fate put me in that hawthorn bush to witness your arrival, and I promise you that I will do what I can to help restore you and Mistress Kate to your families."
Peter felt a surge of relief and gratitude welling up inside him. Tears pricked at his eyelids. "Thank you," he replied finally. "I'm not lying to you, Gideon--I don't understand how any of this happened, but I swear to you I'm not lying."
* * *
Peter watched Gideon stride away to Baslow Hall. He set to wondering if his mother, so far away in California, had been told that her son was missing and what she would do. He had not seen her for nearly two months. Would she drop everything, tell the film studio that they would have to do without her, and get on a plane? Would she miss him if he got permanently stuck in 1763? Then it occurred to him that if he'd had a father who kept his promises, he wouldn't be in this situation now.
* * *
The shadows were lengthening by the time Kate heaved herself up on her elbows and helped herself to some water.
"Are you okay?" asked Peter. Kate nodded.
"Lost in time," she said after a while. "Why couldn't I see it before? Everyone in fancy dress and speaking funny."
"I thought that's how people spoke in Derbyshire," said Peter with a grin.
"Watch it," said Kate. "And before you ask, my dad and Dr. Williamson at the lab are not trying to invent time travel. That only happens in stories. They're studying how gravity actually works."
"Will," corrected Peter. "They will study how gravity works."
* * *
An air of unreality descended on them while they sat in the warm, still air, waiting for Gideon. Peter sat obsessively folding and unfolding a slip of paper that he had found in his anorak pocket.
"You're like Sam; you're a right fidget!" snapped Kate, irritated. "What is it anyway?"
Peter unrolled the grubby scrap of paper and read, " Christmas homework. To be handed in to Mr. Carmichael on January eighth. Write five hundred words on: My Ideal Holiday."
They both burst out laughing but soon fell silent. Chance had thrown Peter and Kate together, and whether they liked it or not, each was now a key person in the other's life. But, of course, they had known each other for less than a day and a half, and neither had yet earned the other's trust.
After a
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