In this first book of the Quantum Lace series, Lady Bridgit Darnell’s life in 1895 in England is interrupted with what she initially thought was merely a strange dream – a dream in which she meets present-day Markus in South Carolina who tells her not only that quantum physics has shown time-travel is possible, but he outlines how he himself has already been able to travel through time.
Awaking back in what she recognizes as her own time and place, Bridgit is convinced the vision must have been a fantasy of her own making until an event occurs that proves the dream was in fact real, and the ripple effect of which alters Bridgit’s life forever… Chapter One – The Dream “I am home,” Bridgit mumbled sleepily to herself as she slowly opened her eyes and carefully looked around her familiar bedroom, reflecting on the events of the past several hours, or was it just a few minutes? Some dreams are simply a jumbled mish-mash of the day’s comings and goings. This had not been one of those dreams… Nor was it a problem-solving dream where one has visions of cryptic clues that help alleviate a challenging situation. To be completely honest, this did not feel to Bridgit as though it was a dream at all, but yet… Her thoughts were interrupted by Dixon who came in to open the curtains, releasing a bright display of dust particles dancing in the shard of daylight that came streaming into the room. “Are you well this morning, Miss?” asked the short, slightly plump but very agile Dixon with a caring tone but displaying a lack of any interest in not only the answer, but indeed whether or not an answer was even given. She was too intent going about her morning chores, confident that if Miss had been other than well, she would already know about it. Although originally hired as lady’s maid to Lady Bridgit Darnell, when the housekeeper, Mrs. Capwell, left to move to Brighton with her son, Dixon took charge of the household with such military precision that it was not deemed necessary to hire a replacement. With the precision of a well-rehearsed soldier, the be-spectacled, grey-haired Dixon went from one activity to the next, all the while commenting in great detail on the unusually fine weather and excess of sunshine that May of 1895 in Warrior Square had bestowed upon them. “You’ll be wanting to take this shawl with you down to the shore, Miss. It may be bright and sunny out theres abouts, but it is still mighty chilly and you don’t want to catch cold. I’ll be back up in ten minutes to help you dress. I’ve laid out the blue for today. Mrs. Patterson still hasn’t fixed that rip you put in the hem of your brown one when you caught it the other day. I keep telling her ‘we ain’t made of clothes, you know’ and all I gets is ‘I’ll see to it…’ See to it my foot. That woman would take seven minutes to boil a three-minute egg, she would…” Normally not the role of the cook to mend a hem, but Mrs. Patterson took extra pride in her sewing ability and when she once criticized Dixon for a crooked seam, it was decided in order to avert domestic warfare, that in the future all manner of things to do with fabric and thread would be the domain of Mrs. Patterson. Only Bridgit and her father were in residence and, despite their social position entertaining was something they did rarely, so aside from Dixon and Mrs. Patterson, the remainder of the household staff consisted only of Mr. Chapman the butler; Perkins the valet; Annie, who took on both responsibilities of kitchen maid and general under-housemaid duties; and the tasks of houseboy fell to Perkins’ nephew, Rodney. There was one other addition to the household staff – the rather now aged French chef, Monsieur Dubois who had worked for Sir Frank Darnell decades ago and, when Sir Frank discovered the man was now homeless and penniless because he was infirm and no longer able to run a large kitchen, had hired him to join the staff at their home in Warrior Square as chef – however, the only time Monsieur was required to cook was if either Sir Frank or Lady Bridgit felt in the mood for something in particular – the rest of Monsieur’s days were spent reading and reminiscing. As she had completed her immediate chores and not waiting for a response from her mistress, Dixon left the room, closing the door behind her and leaving Bridgit again to her thoughts. Yesterday had been quite an ordinary day, yesterday evening equally so. Bridgit retired as usual and went to sleep, but as she began to dream, that was where normal ended. She imagined she was seated in a booth in a large restaurant overlooking a harbour. Massive arched windows gave her an almost one-hundred-eighty-degree vista, but something was odd. The boats were all white in colour and almost to a vessel they were absent of any masts… www.amazon.co.uk/Quantum-Lace-Book-One-ebook/dp/B01N5NKYO3 |
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