“No,” Michael replied. Then he countered, “Something important? You look a little green.”
“’Tis nothing.”
“You said we were in England.”
“That’s correct.”
“You’re lying. How can I be in England when I was in New York thirty minutes ago?”
“NewYork?”
“That’s right. You asked me where I was from. That’s where. New York.”
The duke’s eyes widened. “You traveled here from the new world in thirty minutes?”
Michael narrowed his eyes on him. “New world?” Where had he heard that phrase before? “What—why are you all dressed like people from the past? Is this one of those historical movies?”
“Movies?” the duke asked, leading him gently to a chair.
“What year is this supposed to be?” Michael heard the panic in his own voice and took a seat. He caught the duke motion to John, probably to override the last order and get the doctor.
“’Tis seventeen hundred and twenty-four,” the duke said softly.
“Okay,” Michael said, holding up his hands. “I’m done playing along. I want my gun and badge back. For stealing those, I’ll make sure your daughter goes to prison.”
“Mr. Pendridge,” the duke said as he smiled, though his color had not returned. “If you would calm down I could—”
“It’sDetectivePendridge. But I think you already know that.”
“Detective,” the duke intoned, wiped his brow again, and accepted a cup from another servant dressed in brown and gray.
“That’s right. You know, an investigator. Your daughter robbed me of my gun and badge this morning. She’s a thief and I may begin a case against her. She robbed some people and then pinned the blame on me.”
He reached for the cup being served to him. His eyes were quick enough to note John’s slight smile when he heard about the lady. So then, the butler, or doorman, or whatever he was in this movie, was aware of what she was capable of and he approved.
“Are you telling me you don’t know about your daughter’s behavior?” He sniffed the cup. Wine. He needed it.
“That’s correct. Have you gone to the local magistrate?”
Michael shook his head. He hadn’t. He didn’t know the laws here.
“Areyoutellingme,” her father asked slowly with a methodical look, “that you don’t know where you are or what the year is and yet you claim my daughter stole your gun and badge?”
Yeah, that sounded bad, Michael had to admit. He leaned forward in his chair and guzzled his wine. What was he supposed to do now? His instincts weren’t honed for this. It was as if there were a gigantic joke going on and everyone was in on it but Michael. He put his head in his hands.
“All right, Pendridge,” the duke said, seeming to take pity on him. “I will tell you this. There was a man at my door earlier, who claims to have seen my daughter this morning at a square near Sutton stealing from some gentlemen’s pockets. A man in the crowd tried to stop her but she escaped.”
Michael nodded and looked around again, thinking it no coincidence that things were working out in his favor.
“You were telling the truth.”
“That’s right,” Michael muttered.
“Why do you not tell me where in the colonies you came from?”
“You wouldn’t believe me,” Michael groaned into his hands. “It’s not called the colonies anymore. When I was there,” he said, looking up from his hands, “thirty minutes ago, the year was—” why was he confessing? Why was he speaking as if this were real? He wanted to see the duke’s reaction. Also, he had to tell someone.
“—two thousand and nineteen.”
