Page 88 of No Place in Time

“So if we go back,” Cecily said slowly, “to 1239—”

“The succession changes. I inherit. Julian never becomes baron. I could marry…” He hesitated and turned toward her. “I could marry you.”

The words came out before he’d fully decided to say them. He felt her go still beside him and waited, watching her face. Her eyes were bright. Were those tears? He couldn’t tell. He wanted to say more, to explain what he meant, that it wasn’t just a practical solution to the succession problem, that he’d been turning the thought over for months without letting himself finish it. That he was in love with her. But the words stuck in his throat.

“And the other Lady Cecily… she never marries Julian,” he said, the words coming out clipped and formal. It felt safer to talk about the plan. “He won’t marry her because he won’t have the title.”

“Then everything that happened to her—”

“Doesn’t happen. That entire timeline, the one where we disappeared and she… you… I mean the other Cecily… married Julian, it won’t exist.” Finn took her hands. “I believe we can prevent it. All of it. But we need the machine. And we need to go back. Back to our time.”

“Then let’s go back for ours.” She said it simply, as if the answer were obvious. “We know exactly where it’s hidden. You marked the trees yourself.”

Finn’s eyes held hers. “We can’t.”

“Why not? It carried us across all these decades. It can carry us back.”

“It carried us wrong the last time.” He needed to say it plainly. “I set those dials in the dark, half-blind. We meant to travel ten years and it gave us one, because I rushed it. Your grandfather told me what rushing costs.” He paused, not sure what to say next, then, “I would need a full day or two before I’d trust those dials again. Clear light. A quiet hour, maybe tools to make repairs. We don’t have that much time. She doesn’t have that much time.”

Cecily’s steps slowed on the rutted track, though she kept walking. “So we leave behind the machine in the woods,” she said slowly, “and go hunting instead for one we have never laid eyes on, hidden somewhere on an estate thick with Julian’s and Benedict’s men.”

“Yes.”

“That is not, I think, the wiser plan.”

“No,” Finn agreed. “But we can’t trust our lives to a machine that’s not ready to use. And if we wait, then Lady Veyron—the other you—could die. That’s the choice.”

She let out a breath. “When you put it so reasonably, I find I have no argument left to give you.” She laced her fingers through his again as she said it.

“What will become of it, the other machine, if we leave it in the woods?”

“Nothing, most likely,” he said. Brambles grow thicker and cover it.” He paused. “Or someone finds it and pulls the lever, and off they go.”

“Cecily’s mouth tightened. “Or perhaps, if we go back to our time and alter the future, this future, the machine ceases to exist. If not, let us hope for brambles.”

They walked on. Then he looked toward the road ahead.

“How much farther?” he asked. “To your uncle’s estate.”

“Before nightfall. I’m sure he’ll take us in.”

“It will be safer than Faversham,” Finn said. “And we need somewhere to rest. To plan.”

∞∞∞

The sun was setting when Malethurst appeared in the distance. It was an impressive manor estate, well-kept, with fields stretching around it, yet smaller than Veyron Hall.

They approached the main entrance. Finn’s clothes were mud-stained from days of travel. Cecily’s gown, despite the inn maid’s efforts, looked worn and dirty. They both looked like the weary travelers they were.

Finn knocked. A servant opened the door. Behind him, an older man, gray-haired and round-faced, approached. His eyes widened when he saw Cecily.

“Cecily!” His eyes then narrowed slightly as he took in her disheveled state. “They told me you were at death’s door. You look disheveled, hungry, but not unwell. What is this?”

“A foolish journey from Graston and a lame horse, Uncle Stephen,” Cecily said, forcing a weary smile. “We had to walk. Malethurst was closer than Veyron.” It was the story they’d rehearsed, and she prayed it was enough.

Concern was evident on her uncle’s face. “Heavens! Come in, come in.” He looked at Finn. “And this is?”

“Finn, my lord,” he said with a bow. “I’ve been escorting Lady Cecily.”