from her clenched white knuckles to steal a glance at his face .
William sat back in his chair and clenched his own hands together, staring at her with an expression of unease . The situation looked grim for her.
“I’m not crazy, Mr. Sinclair . I’m not. I don’t know what happened. When I get up in the morning—if I’m not already awake—I’m supposed to go to work at the bank. It’s Thursday morning, September 17 th .” When she told him the current year, she winced as his eyes widened and he jumped to his feet.
He stared down at her for a moment, and she tried to meet his eyes steadily.
“Surely, you jest once again, Miss Crockwell.”
She shook her head .
He clasped his hands behind his back and swung away, to begin pacing in front of the hearth.
“So, you would have me believe that you have”—he paused and faced her for a moment with an incredulous look on his face—“come from the future?”
Chapter Four
Mattie winced . Did he have to make it sound so much like science fiction?
“Yes,” she whispered.
William stared at her again for a long moment before he resumed his pacing once again.
“And how do you believe you came to be in this time?” he asked in a carefully measured voice.
Mattie shrugged. “I don’t know. I have this favorite book, and I was reading it, and then I couldn’t sleep, and so I went outside. The moon…” She gestured skyward.
He stilled and turned to look at her once again, a crease between his brows .
“Yes, the moon . You mentioned that before. And what time was that exactly?”
“Around ten thirty at night my time. I don’t know what time that would be here.” She shook her head with the ghost of a smile on her face. “Or even what year this is, frankly.”
A corner of William’s lips tilted.
“The year is 1825, Miss Crockwell.”
Matti e nodded, unsurprised. She had suspected from the cut of his clothing that she’d landed somewhere in the Georgian or the Regency era. In fact, she was in the exact year in which her book was set.
“I imagined as much, Mr. Sinclair.”
William turned toward the fireplace, bracing one arm against the mantle and the other behind his back as he stared down into the hearth. Mattie watched his stiff back as if she could divine his thoughts from the rigidity of his spine. He certainly didn’t appear relaxed in any way.
She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs, beginning a gentle rocking of which she was barely aware . The heretofore romantic idea of traveling through time to meet the man of her dreams seemed suddenly a very foolish idea—one fraught with dire implications. Visions of ending her days in a cold stone building chained to the wall while she ranted that she worked in a bank and really didn’t belong there after all presented themselves as frightening possibilities.
She watched William’s shoulders rise as if he took a deep breath. His back seemed to visibly relax, and he dropped his head. He turned to face her, keeping both hands behind him. While his eyes traveled over her childish posture, he made no mention of it.
“I believe something untoward has occurred here, Miss Crockwell, though I do not know what . I must allow that I too wished on the moon, at exactly the same time as you—though, as with you, my desires were not met in quite the way that I had envisioned. But it is this fact that leads me to believe that between us, you and I have brought about some strange phenomenon which I cannot begin to comprehend.” He regarded her gravely. “The question is…what is to be done now, and how can we return you to your time?”
Mattie breathed a sigh of relief, images of a dark, foreboding insane asylum drifting away.
“I don’t have the faintest idea.”
William echoed her sigh as he took his seat once again, gazing at the hearth in an unfocused fashion.
“I think the answer may lie in the full moon upon which we both made our wishes,” he murmured,
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