She felt a flutter of anticipation as she entered the parlour, Bessie tagging along for respectability’s sake. This was exacerbated by the sight of Miss Marley at an adjacent table. Etta had seen more of the delightful Maria Marley – more often than not with the odious Smythe – at the few other parties she had been to so far. Miss Marley might not be the daughter of a lord or lady, but her beauty seemingly won her entry to every house and hall in London.
Etta suspected that Miss Marley’s prime goal, besides netting herself a rich husband, was to make her dread their every meeting. Now, in Gunter’s, Etta saw Miss Marley’s eyes gleaming. There were seats free at her table, so there would be no escape today. Except apparently there would, as she saw Max stand up at the far end of the room. Somehow, he had managed to remain unseen by the sharp-eyed Miss Marley, his back to the door and his face in a newspaper. He gestured for her to join him as he folded it up.
Etta felt immense triumph as she and Bessie swished past, offering up an arch smile and a small bow as she passed, murmuring, ‘Miss Marley. Don’t let me disturb you.’
‘So, where’s Hetty?’ Max asked in a low voice, as he watched Etta eye up a strawberry ice suspiciously after insisting on a spoon for Bessie.
‘I told you. She’s in 2023. Is this just strawberry syrup poured over ice? Like, a freaking slushie?’
‘I’m not sure what that is, but probably, yes. So her mind is in your body and your mind is in hers?’
Etta took a tentative bite of the strawberry ice. It was okay, though she couldn’t be entirely certain of the provenance of the ice.
She shrugged. ‘I suppose so. I mean, there’s really no way of finding out. I’m trying very hard not to think about it.’
‘So when is Hetty coming back?’
She let the ice melt in her mouth for a second, then looked him straight in the eye. A shiver ran down her spine and she nearly lost her words as she saw the earnest look in his deep brown eyes. A girl could drown in those eyes.
‘When … when isshecoming back? If she breaks her bracelet, I suppose, or I do,’ Etta said. ‘The old ladies seemed to imply it was forever if neither of us broke the bracelet.’
Etta saw him looking at her wrists and touched the bracelet instinctively.
‘And you’re really from the year two thousand and twenty-three?’
‘Yes, 2023. It probably sounds weird to you, but it’s honestly not. Not when you come from there.’
At this, Max cracked the widest smile she’d seen from him. His face was completely transformed. It felt like the sun coming out from behind the clouds and Etta found she couldn’t help smiling back.
‘So … what’s it like in 2023?’
‘Well, we had better ice cream for a start. This is fine, but I’d die for a tub of Baci’s gelato right now.’
Max started to laugh at her expression – the most delicious sound in the world – then she heard Clarissa Best’s gentle voice next to her.
‘Lord Stanhope, Miss Bainbridge, how lovely to see you. Might we sit next to you?’
Despite liking Clarissa very much, Etta felt a flash of frustration at the interruption, but Max was far too polite not to welcome Clarissa and her mother to the table.
If Etta had learned anything, it was that privacy was a rare commodity in 1817.
Since they hadn’t been able to really get into much detail at Gunter’s, Etta soon received a note from Max via Bessie. Bessie handed the note over with a warning as she started lacing Etta’s stays. ‘He’s courting you, miss.’
‘Etta, Bessie. Call me Etta. God, everyone is so strange about names here. You’re literally putting a bra on me.’
‘No, miss,’ Bessie replied. She was incredibly stubborn over this point. She hadn’t asked any more questions about the sudden transformation of quiet Hetty into outrageous Etta, and she certainly wasn’t about to drop formalities.
Etta pulled a face at Bessie in the mirror as she broke the seal on the note. Max’s handwriting was beautiful. Bold, thick strokes in dark ink. She wouldn’t mind a fewbold thick strokes herself, she thought wryly, then shook the mental image of Max’s hands on her body from her head.
Bessie tutted and told her off for ruining her hairdo and Etta quickly apologised before going back to her letter.
Walk with me and Charlie in the park this morning, he’d written.Don’t forget to bring your maid this time.
Brief, but to the point. She was grateful. After all, it was a relief she hadn’t completely scared him off by telling him about The Switch – she had been worrying that she should have drip-fed the truth more carefully, if at all. But would she be able to get him on his own, with her ridiculous brother present?
In the end, it turned out Max knew exactly what he was doing. Donned in his very best finery, Charlie was very quickly meeting and greeting what seemed like every gentleman in the park. Left to themselves at last, they had plenty of time to have a long-overdue chat. As Charlie went into great detail about the embroidery on his new waistcoat with one of his equally vacuous chums, they sat on a nearby bench.
‘I suppose you’re struggling to believe me, aren’t you?’ Etta asked. ‘About me coming from the future.’
