Free Searching For Captain Wentworth by Jane Odiwe Page A

I was about to burst out of my clothes was making me feel
as if I wanted to say something
outrageous, swear out loud and tear off my corset.
    I made my way up
the next flight of stairs, my heart thumping in my chest. I wasn’t sure where to go but I could
still hear the murmur of voices
downstairs, so I opened the door that was mine in the time I’d left behind. Of course, I might
have known it was Mr Elliot’s as
it was the biggest room with the view over the gardens. There were an enormous number of looking
glasses of varying sizes
adorning the walls and a dozen carefully arranged wigs on the dressing table, which made me
immediately wonder if he had
any hair at all. I quickly shut the door and investigated the next room. It could be mine I thought, taking in
the gowns hanging from a tall
press and noting the floral, enamel boxes upon the washstand, but there were no definite clues. With
fear and panic rising inside, I
was suddenly aware of clipping footsteps upon the staircase. My first instinct was to hide behind the
door, but I realized how
stupid I would look if I were discovered. And then, before I could do anything else, Emma flung back
the door and marched in.
    ‘What are you
doing in here?’ she demanded, her face flushed red with anger.
    ‘I took a wrong
turn,’ I muttered, without thinking. I could have kicked myself for being so silly.
    ‘If I find you
have taken anything belonging to me, you will be in more trouble than you can imagine,’ she hissed.
‘You know you’re not
allowed in here. Now, go away!’
    Hurrying out of
the room, I was only too pleased to be gone. I had an idea that Sophia and Emma did not share
the close relationship
that their neighbours did. It was a pity, for I felt sure that they were missing so much from having each
other to confide in.
    The last room at
the end of the corridor turned out to be Sophia’s bedchamber. It was half the size of any of
the others, but had an
interesting view looking out onto the short row of Daniel Street with the stables in between. There were only
three houses built along the
road, (Lara’s pub being one of them) which seemed very strange to see. The backs of the houses down
Pulteney Street looked much the
same even if they did look out onto open spaces and distant crescents curving loftily above Bath.
    The small,
half-tester bed was not one I recognized, but the dressing table and oval toilet mirror were the very
same that still occupied a
corner of my bedroom in that other time. I sat down with relief, glad to have a moment to myself.
Peeling off my gloves, I opened
my reticule to safely store them before venturing out again. There to my surprise was the white glove
safe inside, but there was
something else which made me curious. At the bottom of the bag was a small, netted purse, rounded off at
both ends with tassels. I
reached inside to fetch it out and, in doing so, pulled out the white glove before I could prevent it from
happening.

Chapter Nine
     
    Time paused, and
the glove floated in slow motion to the floor. I bent down to pick it up but even as I did so, I
knew the spell had broken. As I
raised my head, the room started to revolve at speed. I shut my eyes to stop the world from spinning and
felt the warmth from a strong,
flickering light upon my face, but it was so bright I knew I had to wait until it was over before
attempting to look again. When at
last it stopped, I found I was sitting on the very same seat in the very same room. The past had vanished,
evaporated as quickly as mist
warmed by the rising sun on a summer meadow. It was as if time had not altered and as the images so
fresh in my head faded into
nothing, I looked about me.
    I knew this must
be one of the spare rooms that I had not investigated, largely because it was filled mostly
with oddments of furniture, books
and pictures that had obviously been stored to save being sorted out. I was sitting in the middle of a
mountainous muddle piled
high on every side. I looked