Section I,Next Section

Part One -- September 2131

Posted Monday, 06-Jul-98

lexa Matthews looked up at the clock for the hundredth time. She was incredibly tired. A whole night performing for bored executives was the best gig she had gotten to date -- and that wasn't saying much. It was money in the bank and if that was all she wanted out of her music, then all the idiotic company parties her agent booked her into would have made her happy. But it wasn't the money.

It was the music -- always the music. That constant harmony and rhythm that coursed through her like blood was intoxicating when mixed with the roar of an approving crowd. Not that she'd ever heard one roaring for her. At 28, she was a veteran performer known for never quite reaching the brass ring.

Alexa sighed and stood in the dark room, crossing over to the window. Far below where she stood on the 300th floor of the Center for Time Exploration, multitudes of people still walked through the streets. The 22nd century had seen little advancements in curing an overcrowded planet. Sure there were fewer and fewer babies born these years. But with so many people in their reproductive peaks, the population continued to grow exponentially. No, humankind had solved pollution and hunger. Scientists had made life more leisurely. If anyone worked with their hands, it was considered art. And everyone wanted to be in show business. There were more singers, musicians, dancers and performers than ever before. People didn't have time to see and hear and experience anything fully. In a culture gone mad for political correctness, much applause was given to untalented performers for the sake of "moral support". And every year, more trash was produced and distributed in the name of entertainment simply because fewer people were willing to be selective. Alexa sighed. She would relish the mad rush to write and produce music if she knew the competition was worthy. The glut of performers and performances turned the airwaves and concert halls into a musical battleground where no one was able to rise above the white noise.

Alexa backed away from the window before any of the circling police cars overhead caught sight of her. The party was long over, dawn was approaching, and Alexa had no business being in the executive offices of The Center. At least no official business.

When her agent approached her with an offer to play for the Center's big whigs, an idea had begun to germinate. It was a big risk and a one way trip...and the chance of a lifetime to be heard above the teeming crowds. To her agent's surprise, Alexa had put herself forward to understand her audience. She had visited the Center numerous times, allowing herself to be wined, dined and flirted with by a creepy division manager named Michael. And she insisted on tour after tour and detailed explanations of what exactly the Center did.

Michael Smith, middle aged, paunchy and greasy, had been suitably flattered by all her attention. Alexa was a performer after all. She knew she was beautiful -- it was a requirement of the business -- and she understood the art of charming a client. Michael had waxed poetic about the rise of The Center. Their scientists had found a way to fold time like paper, allowing people to pass through eras with ease. He had been proud of the ruckus such a discovery caused around the globe -- the protests, the anguish, the excitement, and inevitably the lure of money as the technology became easy to mass produce. The military was desperate to cap the project, trying every legal maneuver to stop the Center from opening to the public. The Center had fought back, spending billions on patents and legal fees, playing on the public's avarice for new experiences to gain public support.

In the end they reached a compromise. The military agreed to a tightly controlled, publicly accessible use of the device. Travelers were not allowed to tamper with the timelines. People from the past were not to be told their destinies or anything about the future. Travelers could interact with the people and places in the times they visited, but they had to spend several months preparing to fit seamlessly into that society. Diction, dress, manners, and money were provided to travelers as part of their vacation packages. History aficionados were allowed to visit major turning points in the human timeline, but only in a guided tour package so that these events would not be changed in any way. And most importantly, no one was allowed to travel back in time and meet themselves. The ramifications of meeting oneself sent many scholarly minds into a tailspin as they tried to account for time loops and paradoxes. To prepare the public for this new adventure, the Center also devised scenarios and test runs enough to satisfy even the most hardened military heart. The Center acceded to the need for strict regulation and developed rules and restrictions regarding time travel and interacting with people from the past.

And Alexa was about to break every one.

She watched the sun blearily rise up, attempting to light the streets below from between the skyscraper residences. Today was the day. Opening ceremonies. A huge celebration was planned. And while everyone was dozing through the pomp and circumstance, Alexa would be slipping into one of the modules and firing it up toward the past. And getting famous in two timelines for doing it.

Time seemed to move faster once the sun was up. The city began to wake and people began to wander toward the Center for the much touted launching. Alexa watched with alarm as people began to gather in the building early. She crept through the office passages quietly, deciding that waiting in her module was the smarter of her options.

She sat stiffly for several hours, glancing back at her sound equipment stored in the hold, and tensing every time a voice came too close to her module. Her stomach growled and she wished she had thought to bring something to eat. And something to read other than the manual in the passenger's seat. Finally out of sheer desperation, she began to flip through the pages, trying not to gag at the overly cheerful marketing phrases.

"Congratulations! You have entered a new era in entertainment. We at the Center for Time Exploration believe that the best way to know ourselves and plan for the future is to understand our past."

It went on with relentless cheerfulness for several mind numbing pages, going into great detail about the feat of scientific thinking that led to the astounding invention and the establishment of the Center. Alexa skipped through most of it.

"The machine you are in is affectionately called the Christopher Columbus. We have named all our modules after famous explorers. Now that you've joined us on this wonderful journey, you have become part of an elite, history making society of people."

Stroke my ego, why don't you, Alexa thought with amusement.

"We strongly stress safety in your journey. To ensure the ultimate in comfort and efficiency, please prepare a Flight Check. "

Flight Check? What the heck is that? Alexa looked around the cramped cabin. Clothes? Check. Money? Check. Sound Equipment? Check. Music Sheets? Check on both original work and period pieces. Was she missing anything else? She looked back at the manual.

"Make sure you made one final stop at the Center's Lavatory."

Now you tell me, Alexa thought as she squirmed.

"You are now ready to journey to your destination. Be safe and have a wonderful time."

Alexa checked her watch and saw the festivities would be starting in an hour. She shifted again with boredom and reached into her knapsack for her notes. She had selected a fairly mild decade to invade. With the exception of Madonna, who was now the rock legend of all time for some unknown reason, Alexa was sure that her music would be well received in the 1980s -- that audience was still too embarrassed to admit the 70s had actually happened. Sure Billy Joel and Elton John would be a challenge to beat. But Wham! wasn't going to last too long and at least she didn't have to listen to The Spice Girls. And that picture of Sting was enough incentive for her to write new songs. She was determined to conquer that musical scene and become a star.

Daydreams mixed with real dreams as a long sleepless night began to work on Alexa and she began to doze. She awoke two hours later when a strong hand pounded against the outside of the module.

"OY! You in there! Get out! You're not supposed to be in here!"

Her heart began to pound in alarm as her fuzzy brain registered that she missed all the boring speeches that would have ensured an incident free take off. She sat up and began to hit the buttons on the panel ahead. Lights flared on inside the craft, startling her with their brilliance. The man outside began to scream again, this time for security. Alexa panicked, realizing what would happen if she was caught the same moment she realize she had no idea how to operate this craft. She grabbed the manual from the passenger seat and scrambled through the pages in search of some instructions. There were none.

So she began to poke at buttons willy-nilly. This was not going well. She saw a large command button blinking red and stabbed at it. There was a strong jerk as the craft suddenly surged up and forward. Her windshield cleared and she got a quick look at an alarmed maintenance man before she grabbed the control stick and haltingly surged higher.

"Enter destination." The computer voice said soothingly.

"How?" Alexa screamed.

"Your entry was not received. Enter destination please."

"How? Where? Answer me you mechanical moron!"

"Your entry was not received. Final entry for destination before engine shutdown."

"NO!" Alexa stabbed at the panel again. Up arrows, down arrows, side to side, over and over. The numbers began to climb...900 BC, 12 AD, 156 AD, 2300 AD, 1500 AD, 1814 AD...Alexa's palm flattened against the panel as she was jolted from behind. She looked around and saw the military police flashing blue and red warning lights behind her.

"Your destination has been accepted. Please sit back and close your eyes."

Alexa glanced at the panel in terror. "What destination?" Suddenly the craft raced forward, tunneling through time with vigor. Alexa was thrown back against the seat, forces of gravity pressing painfully against every muscle. She fought the blackness that threatened for endless moments and could think of nothing beyond taking another breath of air. She panted and gasped, the pressure pushing out more air than she was able to replace. It was horrific, this conveyance, in the damage it did to a body.

And then it was over.

"Welcome to your destination. Please land the craft according to your training seminar and stow it away at an appropriate camouflaged receptacle provided by the Center for Time Exploration. Enjoy your visit."

Alexa braced both her hands against the panel and breathed heavily. The craft hovered several hundred feet above the ground, not close enough to be seen with the human eye, but certainly detectable to 20th century satellites and aircraft. She grabbed the control stick. It reacted easily. Alexa cursed herself for refusing those classes on piloting the craft. Michael had offered to give her and "exclusive" tour. With the condition that she would be accompanying him to Bali for a "vacation." She had declined with a delicate shiver to disgust -- which she had verbally attributed to consummate boredom with all things technical.

That was then, this is now. Alexa wanted to know how in heck to land this bucket. Gingerly, she pushed the stick down, but there was no reaction.

"You must release the flaps." The computer prodded gently.

"Where are the flaps? What are flaps?" Alexa countered testily. She punched several buttons again. What the heck...it had worked the last time.

"Flaps released. Begin your descent."

Alexa pushed the stick forward and the craft went into a crazy nose-dive. She screamed in real terror and grabbed the stick again. She fought the controls and tried to lock the flaps back. Nothing worked. The craft began to spin and she could hear the equipment and instruments in the back crash from floor to ceiling like beads in a kaleidoscope. The ground was rushing up to meet her and suddenly there was a bone crunching impact with the earth.

Alexa groaned in pain, feeling the scratching burn left on her skin from the restraining belt. Her head felt wet and sticky, her fingers coming away matted with blood. But most of all, she smelled the acrid smoke rising around her and entering her lungs with choking finality. Alexa struggled with consciousness as she tried to release her restraining belt. The catch gave and she slumped sideward in her chair.

Slurring slightly, the computer voice came back on. "This craft has been damaged. Self destruct initiated."

Alexa sobbed and the computer began to count down. This was the worst idea of her life and she was going to pay for it.

She was nearly unconscious and resigned to her fate when a blast of sunlight hit her. Two strong arms lifted her out of the craft and she heard a voice exclaim, "Sophy! It's a young lady! And she's badly hurt!"

Alexa felt the grass beneath her, but could still smell the smoke. They were too near the craft. "Farther," she whispered. "Farther."

"Lie still, m'dear. My wife and I are here to help you."

Alexa cleared her throat with determination. She could not let these people die with her. "We must go farther!" She insisted though her voice was hoarse. She pointed weakly at the craft. "It's going to explode."

She looked up at the fatherly face above her and saw his sudden understanding and alarm. She didn't understand the warning he screamed at his unseen companion but felt herself carried up and away from the wreckage. Alexa was sure at least one rib was broken, for she felt every jarring step he took as he ran, half carrying and half dragging her limp body. The last thing she remembered was the resounding boom of the craft as it exploded.

Part 2 -- Acquaintance

Posted Monday, 06-Jul-98

The first thing Alexa recognized as the blackness receded was pain. From the top of her head to her very toes, Alexa felt all the spasms that racked every muscle and sinew in her frame. But pain was good -- it meant she was still alive. She let out a low groan, shuddering as it vibrated through bruises galore. She listened for the sounds of a busy century...buses, cars, horns, construction, multitudes of voices screaming obscenities. But other than the insistent chirping of an annoying bird, she heard none of those things. Except for the voices speaking softly in the room.

"You must be out of your mind, Sophy! Bringing her here can only invite disaster!" A deep, masculine voice growled. "I can't believe Richard allowed it."

He sounds like a jerk, Alexa thought fuzzily. But the jerk has a great voice.

"Of course Richard allowed it. She was injured. Would you have expected us to leave her?" Alexa supposed this calm voice belonged to the aforementioned Sophy.

"Of course not. But there must have been somewhere else she could have gone."

"Where? Bedlam? The poor house? I would not consign a single soul to either place."

"Nevertheless, there must have been a better option," the man replied. "What do we know of her?"

Alexa's eyes flew open in alarm. What did they know of her? How long had she been unconscious? Did they go through the craft and its contents? She shuddered at the thought of what it would do to the timeline if any of her gadgets were discovered. God, the last thing she needed was to get busted for breaking another of the Time Travel rules.

The voices moved away from the bed, still carrying a fierce debate. Alexa forced herself to stay still. She stared up at the canopied ceiling of the bed, thankful for the lacy bed drapes that camouflaged her alertness. There was no closing of the door but the voices had faded away completely. Alexa gingerly pushed the bedding aside, biceps and triceps protesting fiercely at the movement. Someone had dressed her from head to foot in a thick, straight, white gown. She didn't remember reading anything about 20th century sleepwear. Perhaps she was being cared for by yuppies and this is what they wore to bed. Alexa's lips twisted with sudden humor as she surveyed the folds of material flowing around her. In the growing awareness of sexual diseases that consumed the 1980s, this nightgown was a definite method of prevention. There was nothing remotely sexy about it.

She slid her feet to the floor, nearly stumbling as she discovered that the bed was raised half a foot above the floor. She looked around the large, ornate room...running her fingers over deep mahogany furniture with appreciation. Lucky me! She thought with a grin. I've been rescued by the rich and famous!

She made her way to a window, her toe connecting briefly with a copper pot just beside the bed. Stupid place for a vase, she thought viciously. She hobbled to the window and parted the heavy drapes. And frowned darkly. This was not what she had expected.

There were only four options for the sight before her. First, she could be living with people who had enough money to buy everything in sight. That was a definite possibility considering the size of the room she was in. Second, she was actually living with hoboes in Central Park and the blow to her head produced the hallucination of a luxurious room. Alexa closed her eyes and pinched her arm. She yelped at the pain and rubbed the spot quickly. She seemed lucid enough. Thirdly, the 20th Century was just not as crowded as it was cracked up to be. Unlikely. The final option gave her another nervous shiver. She had punched in the wrong date and crashed in the wrong century. One she was completely unprepared for. And with her luck, this was the most likely answer.

Alexa wondered glumly just how far off the mark she actually was. Perhaps she should hold out for hope that she was at least in a Rock and Roll era. Then she could salvage something of her equipment and slip into some Beatles and oldies. My equipment… she thought with a sudden start. She vaguely remembered an explosion, but so much was blurry. Where were the crash remains? Did her equipment survive?

Alexa looked at her gown and sighed at her bare feet. There was no indication of clothing anywhere in the room and she began to notice some of her own biological needs. If I was a rich person, where would I hide the bathroom? She wondered as every door led either to a different room or to an empty closet. She tried the larger, ornate door and found herself in a darkened hallway. Several heavy curtains were thrown open, illuminating the pastel colored walls just enough. Where is all the light? Alexa wondered.

She continued to creep down the hallway, unnerved by the whisper of voices around her and yet seeing not a single soul. She tried door after door but could find no bathroom. She saw desks, she saw beds, she saw couches. But not the single thing she was starting to need the most. Help Mama! This place is weird! She gave a quick yelp when she turned a corner and came face to face with a young woman. The young woman, barely out of her teens really, pressed her bundle of linen against her chest and turned her face and body to the wall.

Alexa was at a complete loss for words. What a timid child! She stood silently for a moment, hoping her calmness would bring the child out of her cowering state. She waited and waited, growing impatient. Still the girl remained with face pressed to the wall.

Alexa sighed and touch the girl's shoulder gently. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." There was no response. "I don't bite…really. Are you all right?"

"Yes, mum," was the muffled response.

"What are you doing frightening this poor girl?" A male voice roared behind her.

Just my luck, Alexa thought. It would have to be The Jerk. She slowly and deliberately turned around and sized him up. He was tall, but so was she. She watched his eyes run down her form in assessment and nearly grinned her amusement as a blush spread over his features and his eyes turned away. Seizing the upper hand, she returned the assessment with frank admiration. The Jerk has a face and a body to match the voice. If it weren't for the arrogance in his stance and demeanor, she might have even found him attractive.

"Have you no shame woman? Get back to your room!"

"Am I a prisoner, then?" Alexa countered spiritedly.

"I am beginning to think you should be!"

"Frederick! I can hear you bellowing all the way downstairs! What on earth are you doing?"

Alexa heard the other familiar voice. This must be Sophy, she thought. "This man was just about to inform me of my rights as a prisoner." She replied cheekily. The woman, Sophy, laughed.

"You are no prisoner, my dear."

"Glad to hear it." Alexa replied. "I was wondering if I was to be manacled soon."

The Jerk harrumphed. "And how do you think poor Katy here felt with you bearing down on her?"

Katy, Alexa supposed, was the young lady with an affinity for plaster. "I was not bearing down on her. I was asking if she was all right."

"Are you all right?" Sophy asked her.

"Well as a matter of fact, no," Alexa replied. "I wake up in a foreign place. Every pore in my body is in pain. The first person I encounter prefers to kiss the wall rather than talk to me. The second is playing pirate and bent on sending me back to that room at top volume. And worst of all, I am WEARING A TENT!"

"I am NOT a pirate!"

"Then what do you call THAT get-up?" Alexa asked, pointing to The Jerk's strange attire.

"Madam, I am a Captain in His Majesty's navy." He drew himself up proudly, eyes flashing emerald green and cheekbones prominent as he restrained his temper. "In the Navy, we EAT pirates for lunch."

"Huh," Alexa retorted disbelievingly. "You were probably just too cheap to buy the parrot and the peg leg."

Sophy covered her mouth with both hands, and Alexa wondered if her tongue had gotten her into trouble again. As the other woman's shoulders began to shake, Alexa realized she was laughing. Too bad The Jerk didn't share her mirth. His rather shapely mouth thinned in anger as he sought, vainly, for a comeback. Never one to let a comment pass by, Alexa attacked again.

"Does your Majesty know you berate defenseless women and threaten to make them prisoners?"

"I said nothing of the sort!" The Jerk yelled. The little girl winced at the sound and tried desperately to become part of the wallpaper. Sophy's jaw dropped open in surprise and Alexa only narrowed her eyes at him. "I merely suggested that her attire is more suited to the bedchamber than for gallivanting around the neighborhood!"

"I am not gallivanting! I was looking for a bathroom!"

Her outburst was met with silence. Alexa had the squirmy feeling that she had said the wrong thing. Even the "wallflower" was looking at her in astonishment.

"We can certainly draw a bath if you want," Sophy replied quietly. "After all you have been through, it would soothe some of your bruises." Sophy gently motioned to Katy and Alexa was led back to her room by the girl. "We are about the same size," Sophy called to her. "I will find something suitable for you to wear."

"Thank you," Alexa replied in bewilderment as she followed Katy to her room. She hoped she wasn't expected to squeeze into that torture outfit Sophy was wearing. She hated dresses. Now what? She wondered as she walked back into her room. Here I am again, and I still have the same problem.

"Mum?" Alexa turned around to look at Katy, who was now smiling at her. "I though you were quite courageous, not backing down to the Captain."

Alexa smiled. "Does he intimidate you?"

"Oh yes, mum. He's not unkind. He's a good soul. But we're not used to young men striding about the house the way he does."

"Much less tall, dark and handsome men, eh?" Why does she keep calling me her Mom? Surely I don't look that old to her?

Katy blushed the way innocents do. "Aye mum. The Elliots, the family who owns the estate, they only had daughters."

"Then these are not the Elliots?"

"Oh no, mum," Katy said as she straightened the bedding. "Admiral and Mrs. Croft rent Kellynch from them. Captain Wentworth is Mrs. Croft's brother."

"One happy family…" Alexa murmured.

"Oh yes! Much more affectionate…well…I mustn't be a chatterbox."

Alexa laughed. "I prefer you this way than kissing plaster. Finish your sentence."

"Well, mum, the Elliots weren't very warm to each other. I think its the way of the gentry. But I must admit I'd rather be loved than tolerated."

Impulsively, Alexa hugged the girl. "So do I!"

Katy looked surprised but pleased. "I'll get some water for your bath now."

"Wait, I have a question…where do I… ummm…you know…"

Katy looked at her like she had two heads. Silently, she pointed to the corner of the bed. Then she curtsied and hurried out. Alexa turned to look. It was the copper pot that had viciously attacked her toe earlier. She can't be serious, Alexa thought. I'm supposed to use a vase?

Part Three - There goes the Neighborhood

Posted Tuesday, 07-Jul-98

These flowing dresses really aren't too bad Alexa thought just before one of the pins in her corset poked her. She winced, hoping her companions didn't notice. The proper introductions had been made and now they were all staring at her. The Jerk was looking rather sardonic at her obvious discomfort. Sophy and The Admiral, as everyone called him, were smiling comfortingly and encouragingly.

She had thought nothing could be more humiliating than having two young women bathe her. Katy and her companion had giggled at her protests and poured water over her head, scrubbing and scouring her with a vengeance. Alexa had been ready to pass out as her bruises got more than a workout. She wished she hadn't acted so tough. She had been happy for the help when dressing and had managed to slip in a few questions. Alexa was appalled to read "September 1814" on the newspaper she had requested. Talk about far off target. No one knew where she was from, thankfully, though the entire neighborhood knew of her presence. Apparently there was little else to do but gossip in the area. Katy was turning into a great source of information, now that Alexa had proven herself derisive of traditions such as facing the wall when manor residents ventured past.

Speaking of manor residents, Alexa wondered what these silent companions would do if she jumped up, screamed "BOO!" and ran around like a wild woman with arms flapping. She couldn't suppress the smile as her imagination ran wild.

"What are you smiling about dear?" The Admiral asked.

"Just trying to find a way to break the ice." Alexa replied honestly.

"And how are you getting on?"

"Not very well. Everything I can think of would shock even a pirate." Captain Jerk snorted and rolled his eyes. The Crofts laughed at her response, proving that Sophy had shared the afternoon's conversation with her husband. Alexa took a sip of her wine before venturing. "Thank you for rescuing me. I would be dead if not for you. I know I am blunt and opinionated..." she ignored the second snort from Captain Jerk. "Unfortunately that only gets worse when I am out of my element." People, you have no idea how far out of my element I am!

"There is nothing for you to fear here, Miss Matthews." Sophy replied soothingly. "We are more than able to care for you and will help you find your way home. You seem to be a rather genteel young woman..."

Captain Jerk snorted again at this comment and Alexa rounded on him with impatience. "Are you turning into a pig or something?"

"I beg your pardon?!"

"Well you keep snorting so you must either have a cold or are turning into a pig." Alexa smiled as she again got the better of him. "My first thought was that this was some sort of Naval signal I am not aware of. But the Admiral seems just as mystified as I."

An eyebrow arched at her mockery. "I am not turning into a pig. My peg leg is aching, that is all."

He seemed surprised and pleased when Alexa burst out laughing. "Good answer. There's hope for you yet." She commented.

The Admiral smiled at her. "I'm glad to see that you aren't easily intimidated, my dear. I have half a mind to send you single-handedly against the French."

"I'd recommend it." Captain Wentworth replied. "She'd have them in tears and surrendering from the moment she landed."

"Talk about a backhanded compliment," Alexa replied, though in truth she was rather flattered.

"Miss Matthews, men often delude themselves into believing that shooting at each other is the quickest way to win a war." Sophy Croft said with a smile. Alexa instinctively liked her.

"Well, how else do you win a war?" Captain Wentworth asked. "Surely you can't expect tea and crumpets to win the day?"

"The only way to truly win a war is by not entering into one at all," Alexa replied. "War ruins lives and families and nations alike."

"Aye, that it does. And yet, we could not allow Napoleon to run rampant through Europe."

Alexa nodded and did not reply. Her modern ideas of peace and equality were too revolutionary for these times. It would not do to debate the glories (or lack of them) of war with them. They were called into dinner. Alexa stared at the china settings before them and how the crystal glasses and decanters sparkled in the candlelight. She was seated with her back to the fire, a place she loved, for there was very little warmth in the house. The only bother was Captain Wentworth sitting across from her. She kept moving her head so that the centerpiece covered his face, but one of the footmen removed it, opening her view of his sarcastic expressions.

A mouthwatering appetizer was placed before her. Alexa didn't know if she was allowed to dig in before everyone else, so she waited until the Crofts began to eat. Her stomach felt empty.

"Please don't be shy. You must be hungry after your three day fast." Sophy said.

Alexa smiled at her kindness. "I have to admit I am starving. Wait a minute. Did you say three days? I've been unconscious for three days?"

"You had a serious accident, m'dear. Frankly I am surprised to see you up and about so soon."

"Yes, you have the constitution of a sailor." Captain Wentworth smirked.

"At least I don't smell like one," Alexa said so low that only he heard. The smirk vanished.

"Miss Matthews, I must admit to being concerned about your family. They must be frantic to know your whereabouts!"

Alexa's eyes dropped to her plate. "I have no family."

"No one at all?" Sophy asked with concern. The men frowned and exchanged glances.

"No." It was not a lie. Alexa's family had a Spanish heritage and was she was unlikely to run into any ancestors in England. In her own time, she was an only child...and she had lost her parents several years ago. The memory of how alone she was still stung, more poignant now that there was nothing familiar around her anymore.

She looked up and encountered the unexpected sympathy in Captain Wentworth's eyes. She looked away, having been alone and independent too long to accept it.

"I didn't mean to bring up a sensitive subject, my dear."

Alexa forced a smile. "It's all right. You couldn't have known."

Sophy smiled at her brother. "We know what it is like to have been left by our parents, don't we Frederick? We were lucky to have each other. Have you no brothers or sisters?"

Alexa shook her head. "I am quite independent, madam, and rather enjoy it. I suppose that could seem shocking to some."

"It depends on what you do with your independence." Captain Wentworth replied, leaning back as the servants removed the plates and replaced them with soup bowls.

"Admiral, if I may ask?" Alexa ventured as the soup was served. She took a sip, it was delicious. "Where was my…ummm…carriage? Yes, carriage. Where has it been stored?"

There was another exchange of looks around the table. The Admiral put his spoon down very carefully. "How much do you remember of your accident, my dear?"

Warning bells began to sound in Alexa's head at the evasive answer. Surely there wasn't some CIA/FBI/ Scotland Yard kind of investigation going on? She would really be up the proverbial creek then. "I remember the crash and an explosion. Why? What happened?"

Wentworth and the Admiral looked at each other again. "Where did you get such a …carriage?"

"I got it…it was an experiment." Alexa faltered. The men looked unconvinced.

"An experimental carriage?" Wentworth asked softly. "Without horses?"

"Yes, a horseless carriage." Alexa grasped at a familiar historical phrase. She knew it to be true, but faced with the incredulity of her companions, it sounded pretty thin.

"What powered it then?"

Alexa considered painting a scenario like those cartoons, The Flintstones, where all automobiles were powered by caveman feet. That would get her sent to the nuthouse for sure. "Fire." She said softly, going with the caveman motif. "I burned combustible materials until it moved."

Wentworth blinked in a mixture of disbelief and amusement. Alexa gave him look for look, figuring the only way to get away with such a stupid story was to believe in it. This is my story and I am sticking to it!

"That's actually an intriguing idea," the Admiral said after the soup had been cleared away. "A horseless carriage."

"It's preposterous!" Wentworth replied. "How well did it work?"

"It exploded." Alexa said dryly and shrugged. "I told you it was an experiment."

"And you thought of this all by yourself? Or did someone help you?"

Alexa began to grow angry. "It's amazing, isn't it? I have no father, or brothers, or husband…and I STILL manage to think for myself! What is this world coming to? What else, Captain? I suppose you are about to suggest that I am conspiring with the French!"

"It had occurred."

"Well guess again, Captain Ahab!" She barely registered the confusion on the Croft's faces as they mouthed 'Ahab?' to each other. "What I do, I do for my own independence. I am not a spy bent on the destruction of England. I don't really care about these male ego wars. You want a real fight? Grab a bunch of sticks and beat the hell out of each other! Whomever is left standing wins."

"That sounds like a challenge Miss Matthews."

"It would be a little hard to stand if you were using your peg leg to fight, now wouldn't it?"

Wentworth looked amused despite his best intentions and the sudden grin that lightened his features was irresistible. "It would be most undignified." Alexa found herself fighting a smirk as her tirade ended.

"One could get singed with the sparks flying around this room," Sophy Croft observed innocently. The Admiral could only laughingly agree. "But didn't you have a question to ask?"

"I wanted to know what happened to my carriage?"

The Admiral looked at her sadly. "I'm afraid there was nothing to salvage. The fire must have been quite intense for there was nothing left. If not for the charred grass on the ground, one would not have known anything rested there at all."

"Gone?" Alexa whispered. She felt the blood drain away from her face as she realized the Center would have provided for this eventuality. There could be no remains to be found if a crash occurred. But that crash took all her musical equipment. And her music. Those lyrics and strings of sound that had haunted her until she had written them down. Every single piece of work and love she had created was gone. Like it had never existed. She looked down at her plate, dropped her clenched hands under the table so no one could see them shaking. She bit down hard on her lip, willing it to stop trembling and for the tears to go away till she had a more private moment.

She was undone when Sophy appeared next to her, touching her arm gently and pulling her close when Alexa dissolved into weak tears.

"Everything I owned was there! Everything I am was there!" Alexa sobbed over and over. "I have nothing now…nothing!" Sophy rocked and soothed, much the way Alexa's mother had done once upon a time. But there was no balm for this devastation. Alexa had paid the price for her arrogance and misuse of technology…and it had stripped her of all she held dear.

Alexa was desperate for some solitude. Amid all the grief and loss, she remained pragmatic. It would be hard to live in these restricted times, but she had faced hardship before. And she knew one or two things that weren't even dreams in this world. She would survive. But she needed time to think and plan.

There were protests when she made her excuses and tried to leave the room. Even Wentworth seemed to believe her now that the waterworks had been turned on. Alexa did not want their sympathy or their pity. She was made of stronger stuff.

Part Four – Decision

Posted Tuesday, 07-Jul-98

She spent the next few days in near seclusion, her thoughts running rampant over what options were available to her. Sophy Croft came everyday with news of the outside world or invitations to join them. Alexa hoped they did not think her petulant when she declined, but she made some effort to join them. Her confidence was shaken, however. Not even Wentworth's attempts to goad her into argument could arouse a reaction.

The truth was Alexa was terrified. In a world run by men and social restrictions, she had no place. She did not exist in this time, had no identity or skills, and no money. Not a farthing to her name. It was a frightening place to be. There was only one thing to do and Alexa mustered up the courage to approach her benefactors with a proposal.

She waited until Wentworth was out on his usual trip to Uppercross. The Admiral was out driving like a madman again and Sophy Croft was home alone. Alexa meant to speak to her first, knowing she would understand best the nature and depth of her predicament. She meant to make Mrs. Croft her ally.

She went down to the parlour room, where she knew Sophy spent the afternoons. She entered quietly and stopped short when she realized Sophy was not alone. Five women were sharing tea with her today and Alexa quickly turned her heel to exit.

"Alexa! I am very glad to see you. I have been worrying about your languishing in your room!" Sophy came forward to prevent her leaving. "Come, let me introduce you to our neighbors!"

Alexa smiled gingerly at the expectant women. Mrs. Musgrove, the elder, looked ready to envelop her in a bear hug when Sophy skimmed over the details of her accident. Mrs. Musgrove, the younger, looked agog at the story and somewhat petulant that it had not happened to her. Louisa and Henrietta Musgrove oohhed and ahhhed on cue, asked her several questions without halting for an answer then trotted off in search of the pianoforte. Alexa felt run over by a train and took refuge on the couch next to a quiet, kind woman about her own age.

This lady, Anne Elliot, smiled charmingly and prettily. Alexa thought she would be quite pretty indeed if she wore brighter colors and got more sleep.

"They are a rather energetic group, aren't they?" Anne said softly. "Louisa and Henrietta have retained all the euphoria of youth."

Alexa smirked, "Are you sure it isn't just lack of oxygen to the brain? They didn't take too many breaths between sentences."

Anne laughed softly but was too kind to agree. "I hope you have no lasting effects from your accident."

Alexa liked this woman and saw that Sophy liked her quite a bit as well. "I am recovering, thank you. The bruises will all heal in time. Even the emotional ones."

Anne nodded knowingly, a shadow passing over her features. Alexa knew she had touched a sensitive subject and moved on to other topics. Anne was a charming companion, well read and intelligent. Alexa began to feel that life would not be too hard if she could have Sophy and Anne as friends.

There was a bustle by the door and Wentworth walked in with a shorter, rounder man. He was introduced as Charles Musgrove, son of the elder Mrs. and husband to the younger. He was a cheerful, gregarious man who rolled his eyes when his wife spoke and looked pleadingly at his sister-in-law for help.

But Alexa caught a more interesting scenario. She had sensed Anne stiffen when Wentworth walked in and seen the matching tensing of his expressions as he saw her. There was a history here and Alexa wondered how everyone else could be missing it. Wentworth nodded curtly to Anne and turned on the charm for Louisa and Henrietta.

Typical man, Alexa thought with disgust as she saw him flirt with the younger women. They fawned over him, causing Alexa to wince with shame more than once. No woman should chase a man that hard. No wonder his head was too heavy for his neck. She turned to look at her companion. Anne was watching the display with a consuming sadness that went beyond pain. It was obvious that she had given up.

"Miss Elliot?" Alexa waited for those sad gray eyes to look at her. "I am told that your family owns Kellynch. Would you give me the tour of the gardens? I've been staring at them from my window but am hopeless in finding my way home." Ain't that the truth? Alexa thought as Anne agreed with relief.

Anne was thorough in pointing out the flora and fauna of the place. Alexa was bored out of her mind with the details of plant life, but she was happy for the fresh air. She had been cooped up inside too long. She watched Anne carefully, seeing the surreptitious glances she took toward the parlour windows where Wentworth could plainly be seen.

"Miss Elliot, may I be honest with you?" Anne looked surprised but agreed. "I can see something is going on between you and Captain Fantastic in there. I won't pretend to know the details, but I'd have to be blind to see how he hurts you."

Anne turned away and began to walk down a more private path. Alexa followed silently. "I supposed it was inevitable," Anne whispered. "That someone would understand that there was more than met the eye. I have wondered why my own family does not see."

"People see what they want to. Many don't want to see past their own noses." Alexa stopped Anne's pacing. They were far enough from view to be discreet. "I'm sorry. I'm often accused of being tactlessly honest. I don't know any other way to be. I'm not trying to force you to tell me what's going on…I know it's none of my business. But I like you and want you to know that my shoulder's here for you to cry on if you want it."

"That's very kind of you." Anne seemed at a loss.

"Not really. I'd prefer that you punched him one on the face, but I guess that wouldn't be proper. Nevertheless, two is stronger than one and you can could on me for a laugh at least when he gets your spirits down. I'll make you laugh at him if its the last thing I do. That would bother the heck out of him. And if anyone needs taking down a peg leg or two…it's Captain England in there."

Anne's eyes widened. "Since you are being honest, may I be the same? You have the strangest manner of speaking I have ever heard."

Alexa laughed. "And here I thought I was being polite."

Wentworth spent a frustrating half hour trying to prod information out of Alexa after their guests left. He was good, she had to admit, in maneuvering the conversation so that she might be forced to admit something. And yet he didn't want his sister to see his interest in Anne Elliot. Alexa put on her blandest expression and played "Ditzy Dora" to the hilt as she spoke of planting cycles and rates of growth in rose bushes. Even Sophy walked away from the conversation, finding planning the dinner menu more interesting. Still Wentworth persisted.

"You were out there too long for me to believe that all you spoke about was gardening."

"In case you haven't noticed, it's a big garden."

He looked skeptical and seeing as they were alone, became bolder in quizzing her. "Be honest. You're too lively to be interested in flowers."

Alexa smiled at him. "I suppose having the attentions of two young women makes you think the attentions of all young women belong to you?"

He retreated, "That is not true. Louisa and Henrietta Musgrove are very amiable girls and good company."

"Hmmm, right. Tell me, how many compliments of the navy can you listen to before your brain starts to melt?"

He looked offended. "They are being sincere!"

"Yes, they are. That's the sad part."

"I don't understand you. These are sweet young women. What do you have against them?"

"Personally, nothing at all. I just think they're too young for you. You need someone with more brains."

Wentworth grew frosty at her implication. "I suppose you know all about it."

"I only know what I can see." Alexa countered softly. "And I seem to see right through you and your act."

Wentworth only narrowed his eyes and walked away. He remained distant for the remainder of the evening. Alexa got a chance to speak to Sophy alone when the gentlemen were left to their port and cigars after dinner. Alexa thought it a barbaric custom, but was happy for the moment with her friend.

"I've been wanting to speak with you alone all day." Alexa said as she accepted a cup of tea.

"Is something the matter?"

"Well, yes…" Alexa replied. "First let me apologize for the way I acted that night. I had hoped I was more mature than that." Sophy protested but Alexa persevered. "I have given my situation a great deal of thought. Please know that I am forever in your debt for your kindness. I don't know many people who would take a stranger in and make them welcome. But I can't sponge off you forever."

Sophy looked confused. "Sponge off me? I don't understand."

"I mean, I can't take advantage of your kindness anymore." Alexa leaned forward. "I'm afraid that I have no where to go and I must ask if I may continue to stay with you."

"Of course you may…"

"But I must be allowed to earn my way." Sophy immediately shook her head. "I insist. It will take time for me to adjust to life here and I have so much to learn. But until I can fend for myself, surely there is something I can do to help you?"

Sophy smiled suddenly, "Are you suggesting I make a servant of you, make you scrub pots and dust portraits. Or perhaps you would prefer the outdoors? A shepherdess?"

Alexa gulped. She had been hoping for a more refined job. "Whatever you want me to do I will do."

Sophy laughed heartily and took both of Alexa's hands. She turned them palm up and stroked a curious hand over them. "Your skin is soft and smooth. These hands have never seen a day's hard work. While you were deep in your reveries, Frederick, Richard and I agreed that we would welcome you in our home for as long as you want to stay. I appreciate your offer. It speaks well of your character and confirms what we already knew of you."

Alexa could feel the relief wash through her. "I can't tell you what that means to me – having someone believe in me again."

Sophy sighed. "You seem to struggle so hard against the tide, Alexa. Why?"

Alexa shrugged. "I've been on my own for a long, long time. You learn to fight back and to work for what you need." A sudden smile spread over her face. "Don't tell anyone, but I actually like earning my way. And I hope that I do something for you. I'd rather be useful than not."

Sophy smiled, "Well, I must admit running this great big house is more consuming than I care to admit. I'd welcome an assistant!"

Alexa laughed, "You got it!"

Alexa soon found out that running an estate this size meant learning everything from animal husbandry to sewing. Katy was an invaluable source of information about the more mundane things in life, though she was more prone to backstairs gossip than useful facts…like what did one do when the road was blocked by addle-witted sheep. Sophy managed the tasks with the firmness of a school teacher and the efficiency of an Admiral. Alexa often went to bed, exhausted by having to keep up with Sophy's energetic meandering, and trying to assimilate basic information that everyone else took for granted. By the end of the week, life had settled into a routine.

Part Five – Getting Adjusted

Posted Tuesday, 07-Jul-98

Life was not all work. Far from it. Alexa was becoming acquainted with the phrase "a more leisurely era." With servants to do the actual dirty work, Alexa had plenty of time to accompany the Crofts and Captain Wentworth to social occasions. Most of these social commitments involved dining with the Musgroves at Uppercross or taking one of the hundreds of walks everyone seemed to do. So far, Alexa really, really missed paved roads that didn't have special surprises left by passing herds and most of all, cars. She would give her right arm to become a couch potato again.

Needless to say, she was not allowed to forgo any of these events. Alexa found the Musgroves amusing most of the time. There were times she found them insipid…but then she was being generally cranky to everyone. Still, she enjoyed speaking with Anne and allowing that friendship to grow. Alexa's only complaint about her new friend was that Anne seemed willing to suffer in silence. It was as plain as day that she was in love with Wentworth and probably had been for a long time. Wentworth continued to play the romantic hero to the Musgrove girls, being even more pointed in snubbing Anne. Alexa wanted to crack his head with a blunt object.

Tonight was no exception.

"We ain't savages, Louisa!" Wentworth laughed as he finished off yet another tedious military tale. Anne was as riveted as anyone else, though there had been some exchanged glances with Wentworth as he made mention of a date 8 years past. Alexa tucked it away in a mental pocket, to be fussed over as another piece of the puzzle. Wentworth had seen her amused look and raised an eyebrow challengingly. She merely grinned even wider, knowing her silences made him more nervous than her arguments.

Wentworth ignored her sardonic signals throughout the evening. Even Anne had noticed and blushed as she realized Alexa's intent. Alexa knew she was playing with fire and that it was only because Wentworth was a true gentleman that she was getting away with murder. But that didn't mean he couldn't find other ways to reciprocate.

Alexa tried to contain her horror as the evenings entertainment included dancing. She slunk to the back of the room, close to where Anne was relegated to piano playing. There was a lot of laughing and enthusiasm and the dancing looked like fun. But if anything was going to give her away, it was dancing. There would be no way to camouflage the hips swinging and shoulder rolling she was prone to doing – especially during her concerts. It was great for a 22nd century audience. It would have been fabulous for a 20th century audience. This 19th century audience would think it was epilepsy.

However, Wentworth had other ideas. Despite having loudly inquired whether Anne cared to dance, he did not ask her. He looked as if he were about to, walking toward her corner of the room. Suddenly he veered off and approached Alexa with a cynical stretching of the hand. "Shall we dance?"

"I don't think so." He raised his eyebrows. Alexa relented a little. "I don't know how to dance. Ask Anne."

"I am asking you and I will not take no for an answer." He pulled her onto the dance floor and she almost stumbled into his arms. If it weren't for Anne's startled gaze in their corner, she might not have minded so much. Wentworth didn't seem to mind either and began whispering a count and instructions. Alexa's natural sense of rhythm soon took over and she found herself acquitting herself well enough on the dance floor. Well, at least she didn't rip the hem of her dress or step on anyone's toes.

"You're doing very well," Wentworth murmured as he took both her hands and twirled her around. Alexa almost jumped when his hand rested a trifle too long against her waist. "I've had a chance to think about what you said."

"What I said when?" Alexa replied suspiciously between counting her steps.

"About my needing a smarter woman. You're absolutely right."

Alexa's cautious nature didn't allow her to celebrate. "Oh?"

"I think I misunderstood which direction you were pointing me toward." He smiled and leaned to whisper in her ear. "I understand you perfectly now, my dear Alexa. And I think you are rather brilliant."

Alexa lost count completely and stumbled. Wentworth caught her easily and smiled when she nearly jumped out of his arms. Alexa hurried away, mouthing a silent "I'm sorry," to a puzzled Anne. Wentworth let her get away easily, preferring to help himself to a drink. Alexa sat next to the elder Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove.

"I'm not a very good dancer," she said by way of explanation.

Mrs. Musgrove smiled and patted her arm. "Do you play?"

"Yes. Although I prefer the grand piano, not the pianoforte. I prefer a more robust instrument."

Sophy and the Admiral were close by. "I did not know you had musical talents, Alexa."

Alexa smiled sadly. "I was a musician, Sophy."

"One does not stop being a musician surely?" Anne ventured as she joined them. Louisa and Henrietta were tired and Anne took a break from the piano.

"When you lose your instruments, you stop."

"Are there no substitutes? The pianoforte is a close approximation to the piano, is it not?" Anne asked. "I would dearly like to hear you play."

"Oh yes, please!" came the chorus of pleas.

Alexa, like any performer, was flattered and nervous at the same time. She tested some chords until she was familiar with the sounds the instrument and began to play Ave Maria. She started the chorus softly, tentatively, allowing the pianoforte to become acquainted with her touch. Years of musical training and professional experience immediately reinforced themselves as she cajoled the instrument to new heights. Melody and voice began to blend as Alexa lost herself in what she loved most. And while she played and sang, nothing else mattered and no one else existed. This was always the way for her.

But such moments of absolute release fade too quickly and Alexa blushed to realize she had forgotten about her audience. Anne had tears in her eyes at the end of the recital. The Musgrove women were, for once, silenced as they realized the differences between training and vocation. Wentworth had listened in stunned silence and did not comment more than to applaud with the other men.

Sophy came forward an hugged her tightly. "Now I truly understand why you were so broken hearted over your loss. Thank you for sharing this with us."

Alexa put off requests for more until another day. Now that her secret was out, she would need to think up a whole new set of suitable material. She supposed she should feel guilty for imbuing such kind people with sensations of the future. She had no doubt she would be found irresponsible and criminal by the Center. But she was a musician and music was meant to be shared. Despite all the rights and wrongs of her current situation, she relished the chance to perform again.

Alexa closed her eyes and pretended to doze during the carriage ride home, though actually sleeping while her spine was being bounced around was out of the question. She was avoiding Wentworth's penetrating gaze from across the cramped space. She did not believe his earlier statements were more than foolish rivalry, something meant to throw her off guard. But Alexa was willing to take no chances. Thankfully, Kellynch was close to Uppercross and the ride did not take too long.

The Crofts were already ascending the steps into the house when Wentworth handed Alexa down from the carriage. He looked up toward his relatives briefly before restraining her from hurrying after them.

"What is it, Captain Wentworth? I'm tired."

"I only wanted to say that I enjoyed your performance tonight. You are very talented."

"Thank you." Alexa accepted the compliment easily. She watched as he drew her hand through his arm and let her upstairs. She did not like this new intimacy. She preferred arguing with him. "May I be honest with you Captain?"

"Aren't you always?"

Alexa laughed. That was true enough. "You and I have not always gotten along. I take full responsibility for that. I have this perverse sense of humor that likes picking on people. And you've been a challenging target."

"I have noticed."

"But I am quite serious about Anne Elliot, Captain." He stiffened and she tightened her hand on his arm. "Please hear me out. Just this once. Despite what I led you to believe, she has not confided in me. I don't really know what happened to you both in the past. But you are both good people and it was obviously painful."

"You have no idea of what you speak."

"Perhaps not." She agreed softly. "But I know what I see. Anne is an incredibly kind person. She will do anything for the people that she loves, even if it means it will cost her pain. If you are set against her and determined to marry one of the Musgroves, then do it. But do it for the right reasons. Whatever happened in the past, she doesn't deserve your disapproval."

"How can you know what she deserves if you do not know what happened?" He asked angrily.

Alexa met him with fierce conviction. "Let me be plain. If you can't let go of the past, that's YOUR problem. NOT HERS. As for that silly game you tried to play earlier tonight, forget it. I've met a hundred men like you and I'm neither impressed nor interested."

Part Six -- Close Call

Posted Monday, 13-Jul-98

Alexa was aware as she browsed through the goods at a local merchant's store that Sophy always included a little extra for Alexa to spend on herself when she sent her on these household errands. Katy was supposed to accompany her and was mortified when Alexa insisted on shopping unescorted. But Alexa never seemed to be alone in this world and she was desperate for some solitude and silence to hear her own thoughts. Alexa was already embarrassed at the amount of time, effort and money it had taken the Crofts to provide her with a wardrobe. Captain Wentworth had cheekily suggested a private viewing of the new dresses to which Sophy scolded him on propriety. Behind her benefactor's backs, Alexa had stuck her tongue out at the smirking officer.

Wentworth did not fail to be polite to her and occasionally teasing, but she was aware that his entire demeanor had cooled since their last argument. She was not in the habit of apologizing but could not help being aware that she had been harsher with him than he deserved. It was obvious every time he looked at Anne Elliot that he did not know his own heart. Alexa knew she should keep out of it, but she could not bear to see either one of them spend life without the other. And yet, as days stretched into weeks without sign of a way home, Alexa began to wonder if it was time to interact with the people around her rather than adhere to the strict rules that no one from the future do anything to disrupt the timeline.

Alexa sighed as her thoughts tumbled over each other, confusing her already tired mind. There were days when she could barely believe that she had lived a more comfortable, technologically advanced life than the one she lives in today. Then she would fondly remember the comforts of indoor plumbing. She missed being able to wear trousers, drink a highball, or even go dancing. And she missed television in the mind numbing evenings when Sophy Croft read or sewed. She had gotten amazingly good with billiards of late.

She entered her favorite store where the shopkeeper, Michaelene, smiled in recognition. In her solitary jaunts to the meager town center, Alexa had become friends with Michaelene Smith, a pretty, blond, slight woman with a rather eccentric collection of things in her store.

"Just browsing again, Miss Alexa?"

"I may actually get something today. I am in a shopping mood."

There was a rustle in the back room. Michaelene maintained that she had an assistant, Amy, that Alexa had never met. Alexa suspected that Amy was (1) reclusive, (2) overworked, or (3) a spaniel. The fact that Michaelene called her "my little baggage" once in a while did not bring any comfort. And still Alexa enjoyed hanging out at this shop of knickknacks and the strangest collection of "how to get a rich husband" novels.

Michaelene turned her attention toward two male customers who entered. Alexa began to browse through the hairpins and ribbons. One of the gentlemen, the one with a mustache, tipped his hat at her, she dropped a curtsy. The second, a short frumpy sort of fellow, was content to look out the door. She stared at a hand carved mahogany barrette and sighed. It was beautiful and back home it would be considered an heirloom. There was nothing handmade anymore. She bought it on impulse and immediately tucked it into her hair.

"Very handsome," commented Mr. Mustache. Alexa was startled to find him standing so close. No respectable gentleman in this century stood that close to a lady.

"Thank you," she said moving away. She took the comb out of her hair and looked at other specimens on the counter.

"That one is rather nice," Mr. Mustache persisted. "Seems almost futuristic? Don't you think?"

The word electrified Alexa and she glanced sharply at him. "I don't know what you mean," she replied with an innocent tone that matched his expressionless face. She handed the original comb to Michaelene, "I like this one."

Michaelene quickly wrapped the purchase. Alexa tucked it into her purse and turned to leave the store. Mr. Frumpy held the door open and smiled enigmatically as she stepped through. Every instinct screamed at Alexa to run, but she did not know why. Until she caught sight of the pin on the man's lapel.

It was the Center's trademark.

Alexa swung around and saw the same pin Mr. Mustache…then broke into a run.

Immediately they gave chase and gained on her. Alexa was normally swift but the long skirts, bonnet and packages impeded her progress. She was quickly caught and pushed into an alley.

"Don't give us anymore trouble," said Mr. Mustache. "You're in deep enough as it is."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Take a guess, lady," said Mr. Frumpy. "Theft of Center property, destruction of Center property, messing with the timeline…"

"I've done nothing to disrupt the timeline!"

"Not yet." Said Mr. Mustache softly. "And we're here to see that you don't get any more chances!" He took her by the elbow in a courtly manner, yet his grip was crushing. The second man hung back, keeping an eye on the people around them.

"Don't you think you're being conspicuous?" Alexa whispered to him desperately. "Let me go."

"Not a chance, lady. Forget it. My orders are to take your sorry butt home and lock you up for a long, long time."

Alexa was ready to weep at the thought of jail. She searched about her desperately, wishing she had listened to reason and come with Katy or one of the Crofts. They were rapidly heading for the edge of the market district, toward a secluded portion of town, where Alexa would have absolutely no avenue of escape. Then she saw it, one last gasp chance at freedom. Charles Hayter was driving a small wagon through town. He hadn't seen her as yet, but Alexa had a plan to change all of that.

"What are you going to do with me?" She asked. "And you!" She yelled at Mr. Frumpy to get his attention. "How dare you assist in this kidnapping?"

"Shut up if you know what's good for you!" Hissed Mr. Mustache.

"Is 'e 'urting ye miss?"

Alexa turned toward a barkeep. "OH yes! Help me! I don't want to go with these men. They're thieves! And…and MURDERERS!"

"Don't listen to her, we're just taking her back to Bedlam." Mr. Frumpy said to the gathering crowd.

"He's lying! I've never been to Bedlam!"

"She's one of us!" Cried Michaelene from the door of her store. A diminutive figure peered from behind her, the erstwhile Amy, Alexa's distracted mind assumed.

"That's right! The Miss Matthews from Kellynch Hall!"

"This woman is not who you think she is!" Mr. Mustache declared pompously, still trying to drag Alexa toward the glade.

Alexa resisted with all her strength, then with a flash of inspiration, jumped up and stomped on his toes with both feet. Mr. Mustache howled in pain and as he bent forward to inspect the damage, Alexa raised a knee and rammed it into his nose. Mr. Frumpy let loose a cry of rage and charged only to be knocked down by the barkeep.

"We don't like strangers comin' 'ere and terrorizin' the folks!" The Barkeep declared. Alexa stepped back. "Get out o' 'ere, Miss. We'll keep 'im busy for a while!"

Alexa turned and ran toward Charles Hayter, who was now looking at her with wide-eyed astonishment. "Mr. Hayter! Mr. Hayter!"

"May I be of assistance, madam?"

"Please," Alexa panted, out of breath and ready to faint. "Please take me home."

He assisted her onto the wagon and drove off quickly. Alexa took a quick look back and saw Mr. Mustache and Mr. Frumpy being roughly carted away by the town's men. Thank goodness, I've never been cheap with any of them, Alexa thought as they drew away. She was still gasping for breath, her heart pounding and her mind whirling with terror and confusion.

I'm a fool! I should have known they'd come after me! Alexa thought. What am I going to do now? They must have heard that I am staying in Kellynch! The very idea of leaving the Crofts and all her new friends stung. Already they had become the closest thing to a family she had had in a long time.

"Are you all right, Miss Matthews?" Charles Hayter asked.

"I will be now. Thank you."

"May I ask who those men were?"

"I don't know," Alexa fibbed. Technically it was the truth. Technically she didn't know Mr. Frumpy and Mr. Mustache. "I think they were trying to rob me."

Mr. Hayter muttered something angry under his breath that Alexa didn't listen to. He was always full of what he should do or would do given half the chance. He never actually did anything but pout. Still, he was there when it counted. Alexa tried being more charitable.

"How can I thank you for your assistance?"

"No thanks are needed, madam. I should have done more…had I known the circumstances."

Frederick wouldn't have waited to find out. He'd have thrashed them unmercifully. Alexa wondered when she had started thinking of Captain Nemo as Frederick.

"I must ask you not to tell anyone about today." Mr. Hayter protested. "No, I must insist, sir. The Crofts would be unduly alarmed and as you saw, the ruffians have been apprehended." Alexa struggled to get her tongue around the flowery phrasing, wishing she could use her best street slang and say, They done caught the buggers!

But Mr. Hayter wasn't listening. He was fixated on Henrietta and Charles Musgrove as they walked down a hill toward Winthrop. "Do you…do you mind if we stop at Winthrop. I want to give my mother her… her…"

"Hay?" Alexa supplied sweetly with a knowing look at the contents of the wagon bed.

"Yes, right!"

Henrietta was blushing prettily and Charles quickly invited Alexa to join them on the call. Then Alexa spent the most boring half hour listening to Mrs. Hayter wax on about pigs. Charles and Henrietta were whispering quietly and Alexa could just guess what was being said.

"It seems that we will be walking up to Uppercross together!" Charles Musgrove whispered with a conspiratorial look at his cousin and sister. Alexa thought the whole marriage-first cousin thing was pretty gross herself, but kept her peace. She nearly jumped out of her seat with glee as the group bade the loquacious Mrs. Hayter good-bye.

As they journeyed up the hill, with an out of breath Alexa lagging behind, Charles Musgrove commented on the rest of their party. "We've been on a very long walk, haven't we, Henrietta? Miss Matthews, you will be happy to see your friend Anne again for she is with us, sitting with Mary no doubt. Captain Wentworth and Louisa make the last pair in our party."

Alexa frowned at Charles' use of the word 'pair'. And she frowned even deeper to see Wentworth and Louisa popping out from some nut bushes to join a sour looking Mary and a pale, distressed looking Anne.

Wentworth raised his eyebrows at her but made no comment. She merely looked pointedly at Louisa then at him and watched the blush reappear. They all set off back toward Uppercross.

Alexa took a station beside Anne and tried to cajole her into speaking. But something had shaken her normal reserve and the woman looked almost close to tears. More so, she was exhausted.

"I have something for you," Alexa said out of sheer pity for the solemn, depressed woman. She sent a glance toward Wentworth, who was looked back at them…at Anne…with concern. Good, at least he recognized that she was tired.

Anne looked at her curiously and Alexa dug out the comb from her purse and handed it over. She was a little sad to lose the piece, but it was worth seeing the smile that spread over Anne's features. Alexa waved away her protests and fastened the comb on Anne's hair. For this, she earned a smile from Wentworth. There was hope for him yet.

Mary made some noises to her husband about how she deserved a new comb with everyone ignored. Alexa wound her arm through her friend's figuring they could keep each other standing. They walked for another quarter hour before the Croft's came clattering down the road at them. No one else seemed out of breath as they called hello.

"Alexa! Goodness gracious, I thought you were in town!" Sophy called. "You must have taken the long way home! Did you get lost?"

Alexa sent Charles Hayter a warning look he acknowledged quietly. "Something like that."

"Is that hay you have hanging off your hair?"

Alexa swiped at her hair, wondering if these people really were too polite to tell her she looked like a hag without the broomstick. "It's a long story."

"Well come up here and let us take you home. You look about ready to drop."

Alexa didn't fuss or complain since she was ready to either weep or sleep right where she stood. Wentworth helped her up effortlessly and took out another strand of hay from her hair with a grin. Then with a chorus of good-byes, the Admiral send the curricle scurrying haphazardly through the countryside. Alexa took one look back and saw Wentworth offer his arm to Anne, who was probably blushing like mad. Alexa smiled for a moment before one wheel hit a large rock and nearly tipped them over sideways.

Now I know who invented the roller coaster. Alexa thought.

That night, a smiling Wentworth presented Alexa with a package from Anne. Inside the wrapping paper was several sheets of blank music composition paper and a note.

Captain Wentworth may have already told you, but we all hope you will join us in our trip to Lyme. I know I would be happy to have the company of my friend. In the meantime, please accept these as an inadequate thanks for your gift. And I will share another secret with you. Hidden under cloth in the attic is a baby grand piano that is sadly out of tune. It was hidden there after my mother's death and left unused after the pianoforte was purchased. Yet its sound always reminds me of my mother for she played it nearly everyday. I hope I may one day hear your own compositions played on it. I am sure they will be as special as you are. Anne Elliot.

Alexa was nearly in tears at the end of the letter. Wentworth was all curiosity as always, and this was too special not to share with him. He was silent and pensive when Alexa hurried away with her letter and paper to find the piano and prepare for her trip to Lyme.

Part Seven – Mating Season

Posted Tuesday, 14-Jul-98

On the morning they were supposed to leave for Lyme, Captain Wentworth found Alexa with her head under the baby grand's wooden sleeve.

"What on earth are you doing?" He bellowed.

Alexa quickly ducked out from under, sure for a split second that the tenor and tremor of his voice would cause the sleeve to crash down and decapitate her. "I'm tuning it," she replied, plucking some of the strings within the instruments. Discordant notes filled the air. "It sounds awful. I won't get anything done with it sounding like this."

Wentworth laughed and rolled his eyes. "You can be quite single-minded, can't you? Come on! We're late and the Musgroves are waiting."

"Just the Musgroves?" Wentworth sent her a knowing, if quelling, look. "Don't bother trying to intimidate me now, Captain Majestic. You try to look tough but I know you're all jelly underneath."

"Captain Ahab, Captain Jerk…" He muttered. "I may not know exactly what these names mean. But I know they aren't compliments."

"You forgot Captain Nemo…" He looked startled and even more confused. Alexa quickly backtracked, "But maybe I just said that one in my head."

He gave her another of his looks, "I don't want to know what else can possibly be in that mind of yours."

If I had known how long traveling 17 miles was going to take in this rickshaw, I'd have stayed home with the baby grand. Alexa was in a black mood as the carriage bumped and jumped through dirt roads and what seemed like boulders in their path. That she was stuck in the carriage with the giggle sisters was not a comfort, though Anne was trying to be useful. Charles and Mary Musgrove were in the curricle ahead while Wentworth cantered alongside on his horse. Alexa wanted a massage when she got to Lyme. Her back was killing her. I wonder if anyone will be surprised if I ask for a rump rub?

"You don't look very happy Alexa." Anne said softly.

"I'll look like a circus act by the time we get off this death machine on wheels," Alexa replied. Anne stifled a laugh. "Oh go ahead a laugh at me. Do it out loud. All that repression is going to make your eyes pop out of your head one of these days."

Anne did laugh aloud at that and Alexa smugly noticed Wentworth turning swiftly toward them at the sound. Like one of Pavlov's dogs, she thought with a secret grin.

"I can never predict what you are going to say next."

"It's one of my charms," Alexa replied dryly.

"Do you really think I am repressed?" Anne asked softly, low enough so the Musgrove girls could not hear.

Alexa searched for a careful answer. "I think it's okay to want more for yourself, Anne. And it's okay to tell people exactly what you want and need."

"I've never been as direct as you."

"It wouldn't suit you anyway. Most people find me annoying." Alexa sighed. "I think you are a wonderful person as you are, Anne. I just hate seeing you act as if you are 105 years old instead of 27. Hells Bells I'm older than you and I have way more fun." That last sentence came across louder than Alexa had intended and she drew the attention of the Musgrove girls.

"What are you talking of?" Louisa asked. "Come now, it sounds fascinating!"

"None of your beeswax," Alexa replied, preventing Anne from being too honest. "You just keep talking to each other about boys, trees, crickets…or whatever it was you were finding hilarious. Leave us elders to our private conversations."

Henrietta and Louisa looked agog at the dismissal, never having heard one directed to them before. They exchanged looks and did begin to whisper conspiratorially. Alexa was sharp eared enough to know there were discussing her, and old enough not to care one way or another. Anne, however, wasn't too happy with her reply.

"That wasn't very kind." She reprimanded.

Alexa shrugged unrepentantly. "Let me ask you something. Do you feel that you can't be happy?"

Anne looked startled and shifted her eyes downward. Alexa had once thought this a shy reaction, but today she realized it signaled deep thought. Anne took a few moments then looked up, past Alexa and out the window, where they could see Wentworth riding alongside. "There are times when I don't feel I deserve it."

"Why? If I had to pick one person to be happiest…well, I'd pick you."

Anne patted her hand affectionately. "That is very sweet of you to say. But I have not always done what I believe to be right. I have hurt other people whom I love…loved."

"Did you do it with malice? Did you intend to hurt them?"

"Of course not!"

"Then, I'd call that a mistake. It's human to make mistakes. Some can be fixed, some can't. Some you have to walk away from and just say you learned a lesson you won't forget."

"How do you know which is which?"

"You choose." Alexa said firmly. "But if you just sit still and wait for something to come to you, you take the chance that it never will."

"Captain Wentworth!" Louisa called out the window. The sound brought Alexa and Anne back into the larger world. "How much longer till we reach Lyme?"

"Another hour, my dear," was his affectionate reply. Louisa gave him her best smile and settled back in her seat.

Anne's lips tightened at the endearment and she turned her face away from the chatting couple. Alexa wanted to smack him.

The inn was noisy and smelled of sea water and horses. Alexa was again reminiscing about five star hotels and sanitized living conditions when Charles and Wentworth burst into the party's sitting room.

"Shall we venture to the Harvilles'?" Wentworth asked. He was grinning with excitement and Alexa was sure that he would have left them all at the inn if they had not wanted to go.

Louisa and Henrietta were gawking at the Cobb and even Alexa had to admit that it was a beautiful day. The group stopped at the seashore so Charles could skip rocks on the waves. Anne was smiling into the sunlight, her complexion rosy with vigor. Alexa stepped as close as she could to the water and bent down to run her fingers in it. It was colder than she imagined and she brought her hand up to her mouth, tasting the salt on her fingers. She straightened up and smiled at Wentworth who had come to stand next to her.

"You really love the sea, don't you?" She asked him.

"I do. It's a free life if you do just right." He inhaled deeply. "I love the smell of salt water. Take a deep breath. Tell me what you sense."

Alexa closed her eyes and inhaled, then let out a gagging breath. "It was great until I got a whiff of dead fish." She pointed to fish cutters further down in their path. Wentworth laughed and shook his head, walking away to again lead the group toward the Harville house.

Alexa was just as pleased as the rest of the group to meet the Harvilles. They were open, warm-hearted people who had built a modest life for themselves, but enjoyed every inch of it. Alexa found herself laughing at the stories shared by Captains Wentworth and Harville. Anne, she saw, seemed determined to engage Captain Benwick in conversation. There were several raised eyebrows and knowing glances from the group as it became obvious how separate Benwick and Anne were from the central conversation. Alexa was almost relieved when the party broke up to dine separately. But the twosome continued their private conversation again that night, when Harville and Benwick joined them at the inn. Charles kept nudging Mary to peer at Anne. Louisa giggled to Henrietta. Wentworth glowered at them when he thought no one was looking at him.

Before the evening grew too late or two cold, some of the party decided to walk a little. As they made their way around the inn, Alexa walked with Anne. "You seemed deep in conversation with Benwick."

"I like him."

"Of course you like him! He's quiet, literate…depressed…what's not to like?"

Anne frowned at her. "Be kind to him. He recently lost his fiancée."

"Oh," Alexa said, chastened. "I didn't know."

"Didn't you hear Captain Wentworth mention it before we entered the Harville house?"

"I try not to listen to Captain Blabbermouth too much," Alexa replied watching the blush spread on Anne's face. "Unlike some people I know!"

"You tease him unmercifully. It's a wonder he speaks to you at all." Anne replied.

"I consider it my duty to keep him on his toes. He's a little too smug for my taste."

"You like him, don't you?" There was a strange note in Anne's voice.

Alexa looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you like him. The way Louisa likes him."

"The way you like him?" Alexa added softly. Anne looked away. "If he were ugly and uninteresting, he wouldn't be as fun to take down a notch or two. HOWEVER," Alexa emphasized. "I am not interested in pursuing him any other way than as a debate partner. It is enough for me to know that you have strong feelings for him."

"I have never said so. You don't think anyone is speculating about you and he?"

"Me? I though everyone wanted Louisa for him."

"Until you came to live at Kellynch. He tends to pepper his conversations with your name."

"Only because I terrorize him so much."

"Captain Wentworth admires a lively mind."

"There is a big difference between being friends and being more than friends. I will never be more than a friend. You will always be more than that to him."

Anne looked startled by Alexa's frankness. "Has he said anything? I have not!"

"You don't have to. Neither did he. I may have a big mouth but I also have big eyes that see quite clearly. Just because you think you're invisible to everyone doesn't mean it's true." Alexa stopped and put a hand on Anne's arm. "Where I come from, friendship is enough to dissuade such pursuits. It is enough for me that you like him. I have no designs."

Alexa had trouble sleeping that night, for fear that she had lied to her friend Anne Elliot.

Continued In Next Section