Threads of Time: A Historical Time Travel Adventure (Toronto Time Agents) by C. N. Jackson & Christy Nicholas

Author:C. N. Jackson & Christy Nicholas [Jackson, C. N. & Nicholas, Christy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Green Dragon Publishing
Published: 2023-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The next morning, we once again descended to our breakfast and shared a brief conversation with Father Etienne. After he led us in a short prayer before we ate, he asked about our home, our holiday, and what we planned for the day.

Algernon took on his story-telling demeanour, chin and eyebrows raised with lots of hand gestures. “We are on holiday from London, on a personal quest of a sort.”

“Then, I wish you a fruitful search on this glorious day!”

He turned to me and cocked his head. “And have you had a chance to visit our superb Church of Saint- Étienne? It is quite spectacular. We have a stunning new stained-glass window created by Claudius Lavergne himself!”

I was just beginning to get a bit tired of the priest’s eternal enthusiasm. And that after only two mornings. However, his smile was infectious.

While I recognized the name, I didn’t want to fall in the same trap as I had with Jouey. “I don’t know much about that artist.”

With a chuckle, Father Etienne said, “He has earned great renown. He paints landscapes and portraits as well as stained glass. He is a good man, from what I’ve heard.”

A good man could mean different things to different people. I kept my mouth shut and concentrated on my lemon tart. Father Etienne was pleasant company, despite his cloying optimism, but I was itching to return to our mission.

After breakfast, we strode down the street to our next target. A burly man with blond hair barreled into me. I grunted, the breath knocked from me, and I spun to stare at him, but he kept walking as if on the warpath.

Algernon scowled at my assailant and gripped my arm. “Are you hurt, my wife?”

I shook my head and glanced over my shoulder again before we kept walking. Some things evidently didn’t change from history to the modern day.

I’d once conducted an experiment in Toronto. I walked down the busy sidewalk and didn’t move aside for anyone. Most women sidestepped me. Most men did not. Many crashed into me, and then looked surprised. Men were still acculturated to assume they had the right of way before women, and I resented that assumption.

The next two days were pretty much a repeat of the first. We visited about twelve or thirteen bakeries a day until the very hint of baking bread made me want to gag.

Once, when I was young, I had a very bad case of food poisoning after eating a puff pastry shell filled with curdled cream. For years afterwards, the waft of that odor would make my stomach roil. Now, it was the same for any baked goods. Pies, pastries, bread, tarts, anything the bakers were making made me want to run. Which was too bad, because I normally adore all things carbalicious.

Then again, now would be an excellent time to go on a low-carb diet.

The fourth day of our search, I struggled to get out of bed. Not that the lumpy bed was particularly comfortable, but I was growing so weary of failures.

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