A short time later, Callista found herself sitting upright in the lavender-cushioned chair bordering the long table at the center of the dining room; sipping some soothing lemon tea from a rose print tea cup.
Facing her at the table was the couple who brewed and served her this heavenly concoction; its hot languid streams soothing her rattled nerves as she asked them, “How did I get here?”
Nathaniel, sitting tall and proud at the head of his elaborate lace-covered table, shook his head from side to side in response to this question.
“Blast it if I know, Miss,” he admitted, shrugging his broad shoulders as he continued, “Now as I recall, milady here did mention something about inviting a friend to tea sometime.” He paused here, arching a feathered eyebrow to sly effect. “She just didn’t mention that you’d be coming from such a far piece. Do you, by chance, need us to cover what Jasmin so adorably refers to as your cab fare? I still fail to understand as to why you ever so clever 21st century types surrendered the use of carriages; far classier rides, and—all things considered—horse droppings are far easier to clean up than what she describes as fossil fuels.”
After meeting what she saw as Nathaniel’s weak attempt at humor with a polite smile (while all the time inwardly screaming, “It’s a blasted good thing he’s cute! How does Jasmin put up with more than ten to fifteen minutes of all of this dry Euro humor in any given setting?”), Callista turned her attention to her, for once quiet, friend who sat sipping tea at the opposite side of the table.
“I full well realize that this is not the first time in the course of your earthly existence that you have been asked this question, Jasmin,” she pressed her friend. “And still, I must ask you once again. How did you get us into this mess?”
Jasmin chuckled.
“To tell you the truth, Callista, I am not exactly sure as to how you and I travelled back in time,” she revealed, tone serious and thoughtful. “If you’ll recall, I bumped my head on my meal cart at Chez Victoria just before I transported; even so, I don’t exactly credit my accident with bringing me to this place and time.”
With these words, she leaned forward, pinning her friend with a thoughtful stare.
“For so long, Callista, you and I dreamed about, read about, and talked about this time,” she reminded her. “I think we always knew that we belonged here. And our job at Chez Victoria was not doing a great deal to bring the time of Victoria into our lives.”
Callista nodded.
“Between our repeated quest to keep the sugar bowls filled and our repeated mantras of ‘Do you want chutney with that?’, not to mention the number of times that we have to tell the school girls there on field trips that Mr. Darcy does not live at Chez Victoria,” she mumbled, “We weren’t precisely living the dream.”
Jasmin chuckled.
“True this,” she agreed. “And especially when I saw Nathaniel’s portrait and found myself staring at a real life Mr. Darcy—only far hawter and much kinder—I made a subconscious decision to leave my old life behind and come to—well--an even older life, I guess. I think that, in my mind, I kind of wished myself here.” She paused here, her gaze colliding with that of the man who stared intent at her from across the table.
Callista watched with a smile as the couple before her shared a soft, secret smile; their gazes holding as the whole world seemed to dissolve around them.
“Somehow Jasmin, in the back of my mind, I knew that you had left us to go to a better place. And while I missed you, I was never panicked about your whereabouts. Somehow, and in some way, I knew that you were okay—better than okay, or so it seems.”
Nathaniel nodded.
“I make it my life’s purpose and mission, Miss Callista, to ensure that the woman who means so much to both of us is better than okay,” he assured his new guest. “Before Jasmin arrived in my life, I was nothing more than a lonesome widower with no real joy or purpose. I almost wished that I could simply fly away from here, to join my dearly departed wife in a place of peace and quiet.”
Jasmin snorted.
“Cha. The dude wanted peace and quiet, so who does he hook up with?” she sneered as an aside to a smirking Callista. “Moi.”
Nathaniel smiled.
“I sincerely hope that in your time, my darling, the phrase ‘hook up with’ equates to ‘falling madly in love with,’” he told her, tone dripping with sincerity as his azure eyes fair devoured her. “For I am indeed in love with you, deeply and passionately.”
Jasmin nodded, blowing a kiss across the table that a smitten Nathaniel promptly caught.
“And I with you, love,” she returned, adding as she shifted her gaze in Callista’s direction, “My place is here, with Nathaniel. And, as much as I do miss all the folks back home, I can’t help but feel that this is my home. This is my time.”
Callista grinned, but only briefly.
“I can see that this is true, as I’ve never seen you so very happy,” she assured Jasmin, adding as her tone and gaze hardened considerably, “but why bring me into the situation? Why take me away from my life back home, which admittedly was not the most thrilling life, but it was mine, and bring me here?”
Jasmin shook her head.
“While you may not believe this, Callista, I didn’t bring you here—at least not consciously or intentionally,” she revealed, leaning across the table to look her old crony straight in the eyes, “Now, as Nathaniel indicated, I did often wish that I could invite an old friend to tea—especially now that I’m working on my first big novel for Nathaniel’s publishing house, Four Gables Press.”
Brightening immediately, Callista’s blue eyes flew wide as she considered these words.
“So you’re finally writing that big Victorian novel we always talked about?” she asked, tone brimming with interest.
Jasmin nodded.
“I am. A big ol’ romantic historical novel with goth overtones and lotsa sex. I call it The Wind and the Dove,” she revealed, adding with a wink, “And while Google and the Clearview Public Library both have their charms, nothing screams ‘hands on research’ like actually travelling back through the centuries to the time you’re writing about, and living the life of your characters. I highly recommend it.”
“As do I,” Nathaniel chimed in, adding as he waggled his feathered eyebrows to teasing effect. “I especially love to help Jasmin research the lotsa sex part.” He paused here, clearing his throat loudly as he stole a cautionary look in his girlfriend’s direction, “Did I just—how would you say it in your time?--overshare?”
Jasmin guffawed outright.
“It’s cool, Love,” she assured him, continuing as she turned to face Callista, “I so wanted to share my new book with you—to get your feedback, to just celebrate the whole experience with you. I also have an aim to introduce the womenfolk around here to the concept of women’s rights. I swear it, Callista, their idea of liberation is walking halfway across their private sitting rooms with the top two laces of their corset undone—three, if they’re feeling dangerous.”
Callista crossed her eyes.
“Criminy, Jas, it sounds like this century is in dire need of kick ass chicks,” she asserted.
Jasmin nodded.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking this morning, as we were planning a special tea for Nathaniel’s brother,” she revealed, adding as she made a broad gesture in the direction of her lover, “Nathaniel’s brother Alex is coming to visit from Birmingham today. And as I was dressing for the occasion, I came across a beautiful rose print fan that Nathaniel gave me as a gift, just last week.” She paused here as her face erupted in a gleeful smile, “It was so beautiful, and I knew you’d just love it. Suddenly, I wished I could show it to you, share it with you.”
“…And once again, your wish came true,” Callista interrupted her, adding as she folded her hands tight before her on the table, “As it happens, Jasmin, I was working my standard day shift at Chez Victoria, slingin’ chutney and clotted cream like there was no tomorrow, when I started thinking about how much I missed you—missed our friendship. Almost desperate for answers about your whereabouts, I approached Nathaniel’s painting and was searching its image for some sign, some clue,” she stopped here, raising two defensive hands before her as she inclined her head sharp in Jasmin’s direction, “Now don’t get me wrong, Jas. I really was searching Nathaniel’s pic for clues. I wasn’t mackin’ on your man or anything.”
Jasmin chortled.
“No worries,” she insisted, waving away her friend’s concern with a sturdy, dismissive hand, “I swear to you, Callista. If there’s a woman alive who wouldn’t consider mackin’ on my man, then I would check her immediately for the possible absence of a pulse and heart rate. Seriously.”
Nathaniel cleared his throat.
“Excuse me, Ladies,” he interrupted, shrinking low in his seat as he waved his ivory handkerchief high above his head in the fashion of a white flag, “In the room here.”
Callista guffawed outright.
“Sorry about that, Nathaniel,” she apologized, adding more seriously as she turned to face Jasmin, “So as much as you may have wished me back to your time, Jas, I may have wished myself back here as well.” She paused here, adding with a girlish grin as she sat forward in her seat, “And speaking of sweet dreams and fondest hopes, did you just say that Nathaniel had a brother?”
Jasmin nodded.
“Indeed, and a very handsome brother he is,” she revealed, casting a stray glance in the direction of a polished mahogany grandfather clock that occupied a far corner of the dining room, “And he should be coming for tea in, oh, about ten minutes or so.”
Callista bit her lip.
“Well that little factoid is most interesting,” she allowed, attempting a casual tone as she asserted, “And when one really thinks about it, he’d probably be here already if that pesky wife and kids of his weren’t constantly pestering him for this, that and the other thing.”
Nathaniel chuckled.
“My brother is unwed, Callista,” he informed his downright jubilant guest. “Alexander has just served his time in the Queen’s Army, and has come home with the hopes of finding a wife.”
Callista grinned.
“Well, I most certainly look forward to meeting Alexander,” her tongue stroked and caressed this grandiose moniker to delighted effect. “And for once in my life, I’ll be drinking the tea, as opposed to making it, serving it or spilling it.”
Jasmin chuckled.
“That’s the spirit!” she encouraged her friend. “We can talk after tea about what it might take to get you back home—if, indeed, you do choose to go. For now, my friend, enjoy Victoria!”
With these words, Jasmin approached the expansive bay window that fronted the dining room; parting the gold jacquard curtains that lined and covered its crystalline surface to reveal a vast emerald green meadow lined with towering stately oak trees that stood tall and proud above luxurious growths of scarlet red roses and lavender lilies.
The greyish hue of the overhead sky cast the overall scene in something of a somber prism; one that indicated to Dorothy, once and for all, that she and Toto weren’t in Florida anymore.
“Nice place y’all got here,” Callista observed in an awestruck tone, only to frown moments later as she stuck an accusing finger straight in Nathaniel’s direction. “All the same, you gotta come clean, Dude. What’d you do with the sun?”
Nathaniel and Jasmin laughed.
“Just think of it this way, Calli,” Jasmin reasoned. “In this place and time, we white-skinned gals don’t have to blow half of our paychecks on sunblock. And in the time of Victoria, we are ivory skinned, not pasty.”
Callista giggled.
“Good to know,” she answered, exchanging a hearty high five with her crony as she continued to admire the tender ebullience of the old English landscape.
Her eyes flew wide, moments later, as this landscape was enhanced by the addition of a particularly stunning accent; one that took the form of the most beautiful man she ever had seen.
Sitting tall and proud in the saddle of a stalwart ebony charger, their visitor likened a fairy prince in all his golden haired resplendence. His luxurious mane of golden blond hair flew like a pennant behind the nobleman as his strong muscled body—dressed as it was in a gold-trimmed, brass-buttoned scarlet red coat and tight taupe pantaloons—propelled the movement of his regal, fast flying mount.
“Please tell me that this is Alexander,” Callista breathed, hoping against hope that her profuse drool was not falling excessively to ruin her friends’ plush ivory carpeting.
Jasmin grinned.
“That be him,” she assured Callista, pinning her friend with an all-knowing smile.
Callista smiled as she anticipated her meeting with the ethereal Alexander; this beam quickly dissolving as she considered the steel grey servant’s dress that constituted her standard work uniform at Chez Victoria.
A uniform that, in her mind, simply would not suffice to cover her body during her meeting with the man of her fantasy.
“I’ve just got to change before the tea,” she insisted to Jasmin, “but into what? When you magically and accidentally morphed me back through time, you didn’t exactly give me much of a chance to pack an overnight bag….”
“I do believe I can offer you some assistance,” Nathaniel spoke up, adding in a tentative tone as he shuffled his feet beneath him, “You see, my dearly departed wife Eugenia was about your size. I’d be pleased to lend you one of her frocks for the occasion of tea.”