The clinking of silverware against porcelain felt painfully loud as I sat at the dinner table, barely able to focus on the food in front of me. Each bite tasted like nothing, my mind lost in the dizzying thoughts of where—and when—I was.

Every second spent here reminded me how far I'd fallen from my own world. I glanced around the room, the flickering candlelight casting shadows that felt as heavy as the thoughts pressing down on me.

Harry's gaze was on me, soft and attentive, but with a hint of worry he wasn't hiding well. He was trying to keep his expression calm, but I could see his fingers tapping lightly against the edge of his plate, his restraint threaded with tension.

"Anne," he said softly, breaking the silence. His voice was steady, yet cautious. "Are you sure you're all right?."

I forced a weak smile, hoping to ease his concern, but the effort felt strained.

"Yes... I just—there's a lot on my mind," I replied, my voice quieter than I'd intended. So much, I wanted to say, too much.

James, who had been quiet up until now, looked at me with his calm, observing gaze. He was less forthcoming than Harry, more reserved, and I was thankful he didn't try to press. Still, the weight of both their attention was too much, the room itself beginning to feel like it was closing in on me. My pulse quickened, and my breathing felt shallow, like I couldn't get enough air.

Harry must have noticed, as he quickly added, "You don't need to stay if you're not feeling up to it, Anne. Please, don't feel pressured."

The kindness in his voice almost undid me. I nodded, suddenly desperate to escape.

"Thank you. I think I'll... go back to my room. I appreciate the company, truly, but I think I need some time alone."

"Of course. If you need anything... we're here." Harry nodded, his worry deepening, though he did his best to hide it.

I managed a small nod of gratitude, barely trusting my voice. As I rose from the table, my legs felt unsteady, but I managed to make my way to the door. Just as I was about to leave, Harry called after me, his voice soft but full of understanding.

"Anne... you don't have to go through this alone. Whatever it is, remember that."

I hesitated, glancing back at him, trying to give him some reassurance. But I couldn't find the words, couldn't explain the depth of my confusion, my grief, the overwhelming sense of loss and helplessness. I simply nodded before slipping out of the room, my steps quickening down the hall, as if distance might somehow quiet the storm inside me.

I barely made it to my room before my legs gave out, and I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing, trying to make sense of what I'd learned. 1820.

The date repeated itself in my mind, stark and final. I wasn't just lost in a place I didn't know—I was trapped in a time that wasn't mine. My father... gone forever, and me here, left in a world that didn't belong to me.

The stillness pressed down on me until I felt like I was suffocating. After what felt like ages, a soft knock sounded on the door, and Mrs. Fitley slipped inside. Her face was etched with worry as she approached me, her presence familiar and strangely comforting amid the strange furnishings and haunting quiet of the room.

"Miss Anne," she said gently, her voice a balm to my frayed nerves. "Are you quite all right? You looked so pale when you returned."

I looked at her, my throat tight, the words I wanted to say fighting with the tears I couldn't afford to let fall.

"Mrs. Fitley," I began softly

"Call me Elle, little one." She smiled

"I...Elle, I don't belong here. In any sense of the word." My voice trembled, and I looked down, not knowing how much to reveal, how to express the overwhelming urge that had taken hold of me.

She reached out, her hand gently resting on my shoulder.

"It's all right, dear. If you feel out of place... perhaps we can help you settle in, help you feel more at ease." Her voice was filled with quiet kindness.

Harry's words echoed in my mind—you don't have to go through this alone. But how could he understand? How could anyone here? How could she?

I shook my head, determination rising within me as I met her gaze.

"No. I need to... I need to go home. I don't know how or what it will take, but I can't stay here. My life—my father's memory—is back there. I can't... I won't just let it slip away." My voice grew stronger, fueled by an ache that words couldn't fully convey.

Elle studied me with a careful, slightly concerned expression, but she simply nodded, as though sensing the resolve behind my words.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the light filtering through the curtains, a soft, steady reminder of just how different everything was here.

Dalmeny House, with its strange charm and creaking walls, was filled with people who had been nothing but kind since I arrived. Since they found me, I corrected myself, wondering yet again how I'd ended up in their world at all.

Everyone had been so welcoming, and I felt a pang of guilt for retreating into my own misery. For as long as I'd been here, Mrs. Fitley—Elle, I reminded myself—had been by my side with quiet kindness and calm. She'd insisted I try to eat, that I rest, and when I couldn't bear to be alone with my thoughts, she stayed, sometimes saying nothing, just keeping me company in the dark hours of the night.

But I couldn't go on like this—lost in grief, unable to face this new reality. I'd done that before, lying in bed day after day, sinking into my sorrow after my father died, and I knew it had only led me deeper into loneliness.

My mind drifted back to the book I found before... before whatever happened, happened. It was an old, leather-bound volume, and I remembered my fingers tracing its worn edges, the way the gold accent danced around the emerald cover, glowing and buzzing with magic.

I looked up, realizing Elle was standing next to me, watching me with her usual patience.

"Elle," I began, the name feeling strange on my tongue, like I was trying on something new. "When... when I was found... was there a book nearby? Something I might've had with me?"

Elle looked at me with a slight frown, a moment of surprise flickering over her face. She stepped further to me, shaking her head slowly.

"No, Miss Anne, there was no book when we found you. Only you, lying there on the ground like you'd fallen from the sky. We checked, of course, to see if there was anything else you might've dropped, but there was nothing."

Her words settled uneasily in my mind. Nothing? It was almost impossible to believe. That book had been in my hands. I'd felt it. Yet somehow, it was as though it had vanished—like it had been part of whatever had brought me here and left me stranded.

"Thank you," I said softly, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite the strange, hollow feeling that had formed in my chest.

Elle stepped closer, her gaze gentle.

"You've been through quite an ordeal, and I understand how much you must miss home." she said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

I nodded, overwhelmed by her kindness.

"Thank you, Elle. Truly. Everyone here has been so welcoming, more than I could ever deserve."

"Nonsense," she replied firmly, her expression softening into a warm smile. "You are a guest, and we are here to see to your well-being. No one should go through what you're facing alone."

As Elle left soon after and I was left with a renewed resolve. I couldn't afford to lie around, wallowing in grief like I had before. I needed to find answers, to figure out what happened and why I was here. I would face whatever this was, not just for myself but out of gratitude for these people who had shown me, my family and Sarah.

My gaze landed on the old desk in the corner, its surface cluttered with papers and a small inkpot. I stood and moved toward it, my fingers brushing against the cool wood as I considered my options.

I could start by gathering information about this place and time, perhaps even about how the time travel had occurred. Knowledge was power, after all.

I had spent the last few hours tossing ideas around in my mind, my thoughts spiraling as the midnight hour crept upon me.

The dim light from the candle flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls of my room, making it feel even more isolated than it already was..What if there's a way home? I wondered, pouring over my notes once more, trying to make sense of it all.

Just then, a soft knock broke the stillness of the night. I paused, my heart leaping in my chest as I recognized the rhythm of it.

Elle must have left something. I took a moment to gather myself, smoothing my hair and taking a deep breath before calling out.

"Come in." I replied, hastily clearing the desk of my jumbled notes. I didn't want to seem too absorbed in my plotting, though I knew Elle would likely understand.

"Anne?" Harry's voice was low, respectful, as if he knew he was crossing a boundary by entering a room. "I wanted to check on you after dinner. You seemed... troubled."

Eyes wide as I shifted uncomfortably, my nerves dancing beneath my skin. Surprised at his presence.

"I'm okay," I lied, offering a weak smile. "Just... thinking. It's been a long day."

Harry stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and leaned against it, his gaze searching mine.

"I know it's inappropriate for me to be here," he began, the tension in his voice evident.

"But I couldn't just leave you alone. Not after what happened earlier. You left so abruptly."

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his concern.

"I appreciate it, really," I said, trying to sound reassuring. "It's just a lot to process."

He took a step closer, and the warmth of his presence was comforting, yet it stirred something deeper within me.

"You don't have to pretend with me, Anne. I can see it in your eyes. Whatever you're going through, you don't have to face it alone."

His sincerity tugged at my heartstrings, and I felt the urge to confide in him—tell him everything. But the words were stuck, tangled with the fear of being vulnerable. Instead, I focused on the flickering candlelight, willing my emotions to settle.

"I'm trying to sort through everything," I finally said, my voice steadier. "But it's overwhelming."

Harry nodded, his expression softening, as if my words had cracked a small part of the wall I'd built around my feelings.

"I can only imagine," he replied gently. "It's a lot to take in, especially that fall."

I hesitated, my heart racing at the thought that had just formed in my mind.

"I was wondering," I began, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

"Can I look through your library? Maybe there's something there—some clue that could help me figure out how to get back home."

His brows furrowed slightly, confusion flashing across his face. "You think a library can send you back?" he asked, half-amused.

"I suppose we could always try reading a few dusty tomes and hope for the best."

I laughed, the tension in my chest easing just a little. "Well, if nothing else, I'm looking for a book somewhere in your collection."

Harry's eyes lit up with a thoughtful glimmer, though a hint of skepticism lingered.

"A search in my library? Sounds like a grand adventure." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But I warn you, I have a strict 'no ghost stories after dark' policy."

I chuckled again, enjoying the lightness of his tone. "That's fair. I'd hate to find myself haunted by a mischievous specter while trying to find a book."

"Precisely!" he exclaimed, grinning at me with a playful spark in his blue eyes. "Besides, it might be hard to focus on ancient manuscripts when you have a ghost whispering sweet nothings in your ear."

"I'll keep that in mind. Maybe we can turn the search into a ghost-hunting expedition instead."I couldn't help but smile, warmth spreading through me.

"I can't wait" he replied, leaning back slightly, but his gaze remained locked on mine, a mixture of admiration and something more lingering in the air between us. "You have an adventurous spirit, Anne. I like that..."

A smile breaking across my face. The idea of searching through dusty bookshelves alongside Harry filled me with a sense of excitement.

"I could use a partner in crime." I laughed.

"Then it's settled. Tomorrow morning, I shall escort you to the sacred halls of Dalmeny House's library," he declared dramatically, as if announcing a grand event

"Who knows what we might uncover? Secrets of the Strathmore family, ancient spells, or maybe just a few very boring history books."

"I'll take what I can get," I replied, playfully rolling my eyes. "Even boring history could provide some insight."

Harry smiled at me, the kind of smile that sent a flutter through my stomach. "Boring? James will be disappointed of you when he finds out"

"We better get some rest then" I felt my cheeks warm, both from his teasing and the underlying connection that had been building between us.

"Indeed," he said, leaning a bit closer

"I suppose I'll just have to bring my best investigative skills tomorrow."
I chuckled softly, feeling the weight of my uncertainty lift just a bit in the warmth of his humor.

"Perfect. I'll bring Fitley's famous scones" he replied with a wink. "You never know when you might need sustenance while uncovering the secrets of the universe."

"Or a good ghost story," I added, savoring the lighthearted banter that had somehow made this strange world feel a little more welcoming.

"There are many stories surrounding Dalmeny House. The Strathmore family has been here for generations, and many visitors have come and gone, some leaving behind whispers of magic and mystery." Harry said in a hushed tone. 

"Magic?" I repeated, a spark of interest igniting within me. "You mean like... actual magic?"

"Well, stories often exaggerate," Harry said with a chuckle, ruffling his dark hair. "But there are tales of peculiar occurrences, things that people sometimes brush off as mere folklore. You might find something helpful there."

"I mean, if you have time, would you share what you know about your family and the house? Any tales that might relate to... well, magic?" I asked, my heart racing.

He considered this for a moment, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Would it help to get out for a bit after searching through the library?" Harry asked, his gaze steady on mine, as if he were trying to read my thoughts.

"I'd like to show you around Dalmeny House. It might take your mind off things. We could even go horseback riding if you're feeling well." He added.

The idea of being outside, surrounded by the vastness of nature, was tempting. I could almost picture the rolling hills and the fresh air brushing against my skin, invigorating me after feeling so lost and overwhelmed.

"Horseback riding?" I echoed, my voice tinged with excitement that surprised even me. "I've always wanted to try that."

"Then it's settled. I'll make sure to arrange it for you. It's a beautiful way to see the estate, and I promise to take it easy." A smile broke across his face, illuminating his deep blue eyes and sending warmth cascading through me

The corners of my mouth turned up in a genuine smile.

"Thank you, Harry," I said, feeling warmth bloom in my chest at his kindness. "I'd really like that."

He studied me for a moment, a thoughtful look crossing his features, as if he were weighing his next words carefully.

"Just remember, you can talk to me. If you need someone to share your burdens with, I'm here."

My heart swelled at his sincerity.

"I will," I assured him, my voice softening. I meant it. It felt good to have someone who genuinely cared enough to reach out, someone I could lean on amidst this whirlwind of confusion and loss.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said, a smile curling his lips.

"I can be a decent listener, you know. Even if my only expertise is in riding horses and avoiding overly dramatic family feuds." His eyes sparkled with mischief, and I felt myself relax further.

"Well, I could definitely use a decent listener. But I have to warn you, I can be a bit of a talker once I get going." I chuckled, my shyness ebbing just a bit.

"I don't mind a bit of chatter," he replied with a wink, leaning in slightly, his presence warm and inviting. "As long as you don't expect me to take notes. I'm more of a 'let's ride and see where the conversation takes us' kind of guy."

His playful demeanor ignited a flutter in my stomach.

"That sounds perfect. Just promise not to throw me off if I start babbling about my troubles."

"Promise," he said, his voice dipping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But I might have to distract you with my dazzling wit and charm instead."

I couldn't help but laugh again, feeling a bit shy yet giddy at the way he was flirting with me.

"I'll hold you to that," I replied, meeting his gaze with newfound confidence. "But only if you can guarantee there won't be any embarrassing falls in front of you."

"Embarrassing falls? Anne, I would never let that happen," he said, raising an eyebrow in mock seriousness.

"I'm a gentleman. Besides, I'd rather catch you than let you tumble."

My cheeks flushed at the image of him catching me, and I looked down, biting my lip to hide my smile.

"That's quite the rescue plan," I said softly, glancing back up to find him watching me intently.

Harry's expression shifted slightly, a mixture of warmth and something deeper in his eyes.

"I mean it, though. I want you to feel comfortable. This can be a beautiful place, and I'd like to share it with you."

Harry and I lingered for a moment, both hesitating as if our feet were reluctant to pull away from each other.

There was a charged pause, thick in the air between us. His gaze softened as he looked at me, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and for a fleeting moment, I felt myself blush. It was a delicate warmth that rose unbidden, a welcome distraction from the turmoil of earlier.

"Well," he said finally, breaking the silence, though his voice was low and gentle,"I suppose it's time I let you rest. Midnight conversations aren't exactly customary, I'm sure."

"Maybe not," I agreed, feeling the tension loosen just a bit, allowing a hint of laughter to slip through.

"But it has been... nice."

"Then I'll look forward to tomorrow. I promise, I'll make Yorkshire seem far less... grim." He nodded, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

"Good," I replied, trying to appear confident, though his gaze made my heart flutter strangely. "I think a distraction would do me well."

"Then I'll consider it my duty," he said with a bow, teasing as he held my gaze a moment longer. There was an intensity in his deep blue eyes, so close yet so reserved, as though he were as unsure of this connection as I was.

He lingered by the door, hand resting on the knob, yet his focus remained on me.

"Good night, Anne," he said softly, his voice taking on a tender edge that made me feel seen, as if the weight of my heartache and confusion had not gone unnoticed.

"Good night, Harry," I whispered, a smile lingering on my lips long after he left.

When the door finally clicked shut behind him, I found myself strangely breathless, a feeling both grounding and oddly freeing.

There was something about Harry's presence, his unexpected kindness, that made this place feel less foreign, and for a brief moment, I felt a flicker of comfort in his words and gaze.

Yet, as I settled into bed, alone once more, the weight of reality returned, heavy and unrelenting.

My mind returned to thoughts of home and perhaps—just perhaps—finding a way to navigate this tumultuous sea of time and loss.

Tomorrow felt like a new beginning, filled with possibilities and a glimmer of hope.