The mirror’s gilt edge gleamed at her, beckoning her onward. She couldn’t keep herself from reaching toward the glass, and she couldn’t stop her fingers from dipping into the mirror as if it were the cool waters of a pond.
Her mouth fell open in wonder. She pushed farther, relishing the tingling feeling that ran through her fingers and palm. This was insane. She should be scared. Lord knew what time period this mirror might dump her in.
She should be screaming for help. But she wasn’t, and she didn’t. She smiled and pushed her arm through up to the elbow.
Excitement thrummed through her. Jamie had met her true love— an earl!— after a trip through the mirror.
Leah bit her lip as the pulling grew stronger. Her shoulder was nearly through now.
A soft whine interrupted her, and reality cracked her in the skull. What the hell was she doing?
“Oh shit,” Leah said, yanking backward. “Baron, wait! I can’t…I’m stuck, I’m— ”
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and Leah popped free. She staggered backward, landing on the couch with a thump.
“Oh good heavens, Baron, do get out of the way, or I shall tread on you.”
Leah bolted upright with a screech. Scrambling over the edge of the couch, she darted for the baseball bat she knew Jamie kept in the coat closet. Her heart thumped wildly as she brandished the Louisville slugger at the intruder.
“Who are you? How’d you get in here?”
The bat clattered to the floor when Leah’s brain finally clicked with what she was seeing. A short, rotund woman was climbing out of the bureau mirror— out of the mirror Leah had just tried to dive through. Whoops.
“What the hell?” Leah’s knees gave way with shock.
She clutched the edge of the sofa for stability as the woman’s feet hit the floor and she straightened her skirts.
What was going on here?
“Language, dear,” the little woman admonished her with a motherly smile. She was dressed in a dark gown made of rough wool. Her grayish hair was done in a severe pulled-back style, not a wisp out of place. Her round face held laugh lines at the corners of her eyes, giving her a pleasant expression. Her simple dress and hairstyle were appropriate for a high-ranking servant of the nineteenth century. Only one person Leah had ever heard of fit the description.
“Are you— ” Leah stopped, swallowing the knot of confusion that swelled in her throat.
“Pardon. I am Mrs. Knightsbridge.” The woman bobbed a curtsy. “Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
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leap straight out of her chest. “Leah. Leah Ramsey. I’m
Jamie’s friend.”
“Oh, my dear Miss Ramsey. Miss Jamie told me so much about you.” The little lady patted Baron on the head as he lapped her hand. “What a pleasure this is at last. I would dearly love to see Miss Jamie, and his lordship, of course. Are they at home?”
“I’m sorry,” Leah said, shuffling from foot to foot. For all her theatre history and costume knowledge, she was a little light on time-traveling- visitor etiquette. “They got married two days ago. They’re on their honeymoon.”
Mrs. Knightsbridge clucked her tongue and sighed.
“Oh goodness, what a bother. I have arrived too late for the nuptials. These time shifts are becoming so unreliable.”
She shook her head. “There is no hope for it. I shall have to go back and attempt to time my arrival more appropriately.” The little woman stepped toward the bureau again.
“No, Mrs. Knightsbridge, wait!” Leah jumped forward and grabbed the woman by the elbow. “Please, just a minute.”
“Yes?”
Leah swallowed hard. The words came of their own volition, and she couldn’t stop their complete rush. “I need to ask you something.”
Mrs. Knightsbridge arched a brow in a knowing manner but waited for Leah to continue.
“It’s my grandfather. I’m worried about him. He started talking yesterday about dying.” Leah ran her nails along her jeans, the rough edge of her thumbnail picking at the cotton. “I know you’ve got powers. Jamie told me. Is something going to happen to him? Is he sick and not telling me?”
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“Why ask me, dear?” Mrs. Knightsbridge laid a hand atop Leah’s.
“Because I know you see things. The scrying. That’s how you found Jamie, right? Can’t you tell if something’s wrong with Pawpaw?”
Mrs. Knightsbridge shook her head, and Leah’s hopes slipped through the floor.
“I do not have what I require for that, my dear.
But”— she smiled conspiratorially— “I can assist you in the same manner I assisted Miss Jamie.”
Her hopes leapt through the floorboards and lodged straight in her chest, making her heart beat a ragged thump. “Really? You can send me to another time and place?”