Window on Yesterday (12 page)

Aspirin. Alycia suddenly recalled the small container of aspirin she had tossed into her handbag that morning. If she could only bear to keep her eyes open long enough to find her purse ...

“Alice? Are you awake, my child?”

Stunned, her breathing growing shallow and uneven, Alycia lay absolutely still, her mind consumed by one question: Who was Alice? Then, as the mental numbness wore off, her thought process exploded with queries and speculations.

She was not alone! The thought induced some comfort.

Who was with her?

The voice had definitely been female—a nurse?

The voice had been soft, slow, the intonation not quite that of a Southern drawl, but close to it.

Alycia was hot. With sharpened awareness, she realized that she was uncomfortably covered or clothed. Why was she hot, when the weather was so damp and chill?

What was going on? Where was ... ? Alycia’s thought was cut off by a particularly rough bump. Her head thumped against the blasted object. Annoyance flared.

How in the world was a person supposed to think with all the rocking and rolling and the clattering of wheels and the rattle of harness and the steady pounding of horses’ hooves and ... Hold it! Clattering of wheels? Rattle of harness? Pounding of horses’ hooves? What the ... ?

Alycia’s eyes flew wide open. Her glance darting around frantically, she attempted to absorb all of her surroundings at once. Her eyes widened even more as her tired mind registered certain salient facts: She was reclining on the hard seat of an inadequately sprung carriage—no, not a carriage. Her swiftly moving glance took in the ceiling and side appointments of the conveyance. It was a coach, a traveling coach!

“There, you see, my dear? ‘Tis as I said ‘twould be. The child has regained consciousness. She will be right as rain before time.”

‘Tis? “Twould? Before time?

Alycia’s mind shut down again, but her body jerked when a hand was laid gently on her arm.

“Rest easy, my child. We will be home soon.”

Home?
Her mind was off and running with the word.
Home. Pennsylvania. Sean.

Anticipation trembling through her, Alycia opened her eyes and turned her head in the direction of the soft, reassuring voice. The sight that met her eyes was almost shocking enough to close them again.

A middle-aged couple sat on the seat facing Alycia, their expressions revealing genuine concern. But it wasn’t the couple themselves that propelled Alycia into struggling to sit up. It was their appearance. Incredibly, unbelievably, they were attired in the fashion of the Revolutionary War period!

Shutting her eyes quickly, Alycia flopped back against the hard seat. She winced as a stabbing pain lanced through her head. Damn this head injury! She must be hallucinating! Fighting a feeling too close to panic to be contemplated rationally, Alycia forced herself to take slow, calming breaths. She had barely begun when the sound of the man’s voice demolished the thread of control she had grasped.

“Verily, child, I would that you remain quiet until we have arrived home.”

Verily? Verily! I would that? Home? Alycia’s mind splintered. She wasn’t hallucinating! The blow to her head must have been worse than she thought. She was going stark, raving mad!

“Where ... where am I?” Alycia cringed inwardly at the unfamiliar, whimpering sound of her voice and at her use of the trite phrase she had believed was spoken only in jest or in bad movies.

“Why, very near to home now,” the woman answered.

“Some ten miles from Williamsburg,” the man interjected.

Williamsburg? Alycia silently repeated the place-name. That would explain the couple’s attire. But how could that be? Frowning, she grasped at the shadowy memory of the road sign she’d noticed shortly before that truck went haywire. The signs had indicated that she was approaching the exit for Richmond. How had she gotten to Williamsburg?

As if in answer to her question, the coach lurched, nearly pitching her to the floor. Rattled more than she wanted to admit, even to herself, Alycia peeped at the man and woman from beneath her slightly raised lashes, hoping they’d be dressed properly. They were—for the late eighteenth century. Suppressing a sigh, she managed to articulate a one-word question.

“Williamsburg?”

“Yes, my dear,” the woman responded in a soft, genteel voice.

Okay, Alycia told herself. You’re in—or close to—the restored area of Williamsburg, and these people are just very serious about their roles as citizens of the period. You are not mad or even slightly crazy. You are exactly where you wanted to be, in the meticulously recreated Colonial town where so much early American history took place. Alycia shivered with relief at having arrived at a reasonable explanation for her present situation. Of course, there were still the nagging questions of how she had gotten from the accident site to where she now was: why she had glimpsed blue sky and leafy trees through the coach window; why she was ensconced inside this torture chamber of a coach and not an ambulance, and where these nice people had come up with the name Alice, when her own name was clearly printed on her driver’s license. Come to that, what had happened to her car?

First things first, Alycia advised herself, inching her eyelids up a smidgen higher. The rather attractive, if slightly portly, man was frowning at her with fierce concern. The plump, soft-looking woman was nervously biting her lip. Hoping to ease their obvious anxiety, Alycia again struggled to sit up.

“Oh! No!” the woman exclaimed in an alarmed tone. “Alice, please do not sit up!”

“Why not?” Alycia muttered, wishing the woman would stop calling her Alice.

“ ‘Tis beneficial to rest upon receiving a blow to the head,” the man replied in a soothing if pompous tone.

‘Tis?
Again? Really, Alycia thought, these people were carrying the act too... Oh, dear God! The pain! The world seemed to spin out of control, whirling like a carousel in ever diminishing circles. Alycia’s eyes widened. The light. It hurt. It was too bright.

Sean!

* * * *

This time when Alycia regained consciousness it was to the delicious feeling of resting on something soft. She immediately realized that the jolting motion and the accompanying rattle, clatter, and clip-clop had ceased.

The silence was beautiful, as was the cool, moist cloth covering her forehead and eyes. As a matter of fact, Alycia mused, she felt wonderfully cool all over. With the return of full awareness came the bolstering realization that the pain in her head had subsided to a dull ache. Now life might be bearable again, she decided wryly, if only she knew where she was and how she’d arrived here.

Alycia had a clear memory of the uncomfortable coach and her friendly if rather odd traveling companions. But not for an instant could she believe that she had traversed the distance between Richmond and Williamsburg in that horrendous contraption. Thinking about the coach brought thoughtful concern for her car.

What had happened to her car after the accident? Had it been completely demolished? she wondered, sighing for the probable loss of the compact. She had liked the little car with its neat hatchback.

Hatchback! Alycia moved restlessly. Her luggage had been in the hatchback. What of her suitcases, her clothes, her makeup? She had packed her best clothing for the trip, including two brand-new outfits she’d had to scrimp and save for all winter! Lord, if the luggage had been lost, it would take her a year to replace the contents, never mind the suitcases themselves. Then came the thought of her handbag. Where was it? Her credit cards and all her money were in her purse!

Suddenly frantic, Alycia clutched at the cloth on her forehead and moved to get up. Her abrupt action sent an agonizing shaft of pain through her head. Moaning, she slumped back against what she now recognized was a down pillow at the head of a rather large bed. Slowly, her gasps for breath eased to a steady breathing pattern. Drowsiness crept over her as the pain lessened. She was so tired, so very tired. Within moments her breathing deepened and Alycia drifted off into a sound, natural sleep.

While she slept, Alycia dreamed she was being pushed and tugged in different directions. She cried out for Sean, begging him to make whoever was tormenting her stop yanking at her.

The low, faraway sound of Sean’s beloved voice reached her in the depths of exhausted slumber. “It’s all right, love, I’m here. I’m with you. I’ll always be with you.”

The tugging and pulling mercifully ceased, and Alycia gratefully plunged into the well of undisturbed sleep once more. But a hint of the dream urged her into wakefulness.

Sean! His name leaped into Alycia’s mind before she was fully awake. Sean didn’t know, couldn’t know, about the accident! She had to phone him immediately! Tearing the soothing cloth from her brow, Alycia flung her legs over the edge of the wide bed and stood up. She remained upright for all of five seconds. Then she crashed to the floor like a felled tree. She was sobbing harshly and cursing under her breath when the bedroom door was flung open and someone rushed into the room.

“Alice!” The voice belonged to the woman in the coach. “What have you done to yourself, my child?” As the woman dropped to her knees beside her, Alycia heard her call out, “Lettie! Come quickly!”

“I’m ... all right,” Alycia tried to assure the woman between gulping sobs. “Just... just help me to get up, please.”

“You are most certainly not all right,” the woman scolded her in a gentle voice. “You suffered a blow to the head in that dreadful collision,” she continued, circling Alycia’s trembling shoulders with one plump arm. “I would that you had remained abed.” Alycia opened her mouth to protest being treated like an invalid, but the woman spoke before she could utter the first word. “Ahh, there you are, Lettie. Come, girl, help me to get my niece back into bed.”

Her niece? Alycia’s senses swirled. Dizzy and disoriented, she barely heard the soft but decidedly feminine reply. “Yes, ma’am.”

Feeling completely drained, Alycia was of little help as the two women struggled to lift her from the floor and onto the bed. When the transfer was finally made, she sank into the soft mattress with a heartfelt murmur of thanks. Still light-headed, yet determined to look at her benefactress, Alycia opened her eyes and offered the woman a tremulous smile.

“You are most welcome, niece.” The plump woman smiled back. “Not only for the meager service I could give you but in this house as well.” Bending to her, the woman patted Alycia’s hand. “You must rest.”

“I’m hungry,” Alycia blurted out when her stomach growled a demand for sustenance.

“But that is wonderful!” The woman beamed at Alycia. “I will see to a repast for you at once.” Her long skirts swished musically as, spinning away, she headed for the door. “Come, Lettie, I’llhave need for you to carry the tray.”

As the two women left the room, Alycia noticed that Lettie, who was black, was dressed like an eighteenth-century house servant.

How odd, she mused muzzily, wriggling into a more comfortable position on the soft mattress. But, if little else was clear in her mind, Alycia was convinced she had definitely arrived at her intended destination. A confused but dreamy smile tilting her lips, Alycia let her mind wander to her previous visits to the restored area.

On Alycia’s first visit, she had been enchanted to discover that the structures of Williamsburg had been carefully restored to what they had looked like in Colonial times and that the people—guides, merchants, carriage drivers, and numerous others—were dressed in the attire of the period. They were all also fluent in the language usage prevalent at the time.

Still, on reflection, Alycia couldn’t help thinking that the people she had met were carrying the torch of recreation just a mite too high, considering her accident and injuries and everything. One would think, she reasoned, they would have dropped the act and rushed her to a hospital.

Shrugging off the strange behavior of her newfound friends, Alycia tentatively moved her head and opened her eyes. She was immediately delighted by two discoveries, the first and foremost being that the pain in her head was just about gone. The second was that she was in a large bedroom decorated in a conglomeration of lovely furniture from several historical periods.

Alycia’s gaze lingered on an exquisite Queen Anne secretary before drifting to a matching cherry-wood dresser and highboy. There was a delicate chair, obviously French, placed by a beautiful spindle-legged Chippendale table. But what filled Alycia with the most delight was the bed she was lying in. An imposing four-poster, it was intricately, lovingly carved of deep red mahogany, and as lovingly cared for.

Pursing her lips, Alycia glanced around in bemusement. Never on any of her previous visits to the Williamsburg Inn had she occupied such a large, richly furnished room. The rooms at the inn were lovely, but this ... Alycia frowned slightly. This room resembled the bedchambers in the large, opulent plantation mansions located along the James River.

Pondering the strangeness of everything that had happened since she had initially regained consciousness, Alycia casually glanced down at herself. Her frown deepened as she examined the handmade sheer cotton nightgown—or night rail, to use the historically correct term—that she was wearing. Sighing, she fingered the soft material.

Alycia marveled in exasperation. Really, she thought, this was pushing the act to the outer edge of enough. She had packed a perfectly good, not to mention comfortable, nightshirt in her suitcase and ... Her suitcase! Alycia bolted upright in the bed, wincing as a warning shaft of pain streaked through her.

Easy does it, she advised herself, moving cautiously as she sent her glance on a more thorough inspection of the room, hoping against hope to discover her suitcases stacked out of the way in a corner. Disappointment sank like a stone inside her when the single object she found in one corner was a beautifully beveled standing mirror.

Shoulders drooping, Alycia sat staring into middle distance, silently asking questions for which she had no answers. Her expression of bafflement gradually changed to one of contemplation as middle distance telescoped on one of two undraped windows. Beyond the panes, Alycia could see an expanse of blue sky. As if impelled by a force she couldn’t resist, she very carefully slipped from the bed. Steadying herself by grasping on to pieces of furniture as she went, Alycia walked cautiously to the window. She was wet with perspiration and breathing raggedly by the time she slowly sank onto the deep windowsill. As she stared out the window her eyes grew wide with confused surprise.