Time Is Magic

There was something about the lady’s drawing room that disquieted him, although Nicholas was struggling to identify exactly what it was. To all outward signs it was a perfect example. A worry alighted briefly on Nicholas’ brow as he wondered if perhaps that wasn’t the problem; it was as though someone had staged the perfect drawing room. It lacked the inconsistencies that reflected the owner’s personality.
The entrance of the lady herself pulled Nicholas from his reverie, the first rustle of silk from the corridor had him on his feet with hands crossed behind his back.
Since the moment she had first left him her calling card, Nicholas had thought of little else than Miss Constance Stubbington. Why should a lady from such a neighbourhood leave a card for him at all? He was not someone of means or family. Undoubtedly he had achieved a certain reputation on his own merits, but it was not one which would lead a gentleman to expect calling cards from respectable young women.
The door opened and Nicholas turned. Although he had no real preconceptions, he found himself surprised by Constance Stubbington. She was taller than most of her sex, and although her features were not those considered beautiful by the fashions of the day, she was attractive. It was the eyes, Nicholas thought, deep blue and holding an amused sparkle that implied a keen intellect. She was well dressed although her clothing was more simple than fashionable, that appeared to be a choice of style rather than economy.
‘Mr Coates, thank you for visiting,’ she spoke with surety, as though she addressed an equal. Nicholas found to his chagrin that her very appearance had robbed him of a ready reply.
Clearing his throat, he managed, ‘Miss Stubbington, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.’
She smiled, nodding as she crossed the room not with the studied elegance of most young woman but with purpose, as though she were conducting business. The Chatelaine at her belt clinked with each step, settling into silence as the lady folded herself neatly into the seat opposite and gestured for him to do the same.
‘Mr Coates, you will have many questions about why you are here, I am sure. I am afraid that I will not be able to furnish you with answers, unless I first receive from you an undertaking that whatever business we discuss here remains entirely between us. It must be spoken of with no one outside of these four walls. Do you agree?’
Nicholas felt his jaw slackening in astonishment and with a snap of his teeth, closed his mouth.
‘That is an extraordinary thing to ask,’ he protested.
‘It is,’ Miss Stubbington agreed, ‘but I must press you for an answer.’
‘I…uh…that is, of course Miss Stubbington. You can be assured of my discretion.’
‘Excellent.’ The words had barely left Nicholas’ lips before the young woman continued. ‘Forgive me for my directness, but time is pressing. Mr Coates, you have a reputation for having a finer mind than your resources can support.’
Nicholas felt colour flooding his cheeks and he opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a gesture.
‘Please, Sir, there is not time for the usual protests and posturing. It is not my intention to insult, I am merely stating the facts as I see them. You have a fine mind, but not the family or wealth to make the most of it. I would like to remedy that.’
Nicholas could only stare at her, all his efforts needed to prevent his mouth from falling open once again.
‘My proposal is this: I will set you up with a laboratory and introduce you to some of the most powerful minds in Natural Philosophy. In return, you will present the results of my own private research as your own, alongside your own discoveries.’
‘Why would you need me to do such a thing?’ Nicholas asked, his astonishment such that he quite forgot proper etiquette. An upturn to Miss Stubbington’s lips gave him the impression that she approved of this lapse.
‘I am a woman, Mr Coates. My findings will never be accepted. As you are aware women are not considered modest witnesses.’
Nicholas nodded, canting his head to one side and viewing the woman opposite him more fully, more frankly. ‘Your area of study?’
‘My interests are eclectic,’ came the reply, ‘like you, I am interested in finding the laws which explain the observed phenomenon of our world. Unlike you, however, I seek those answers in the past.’
‘The past?’
‘I believe that ancient civilizations knew more of Natural Philosophy than we do ourselves. I believe we can discover much by studying them.’
‘Because?’ It occurred to Nicholas that he had become completely relaxed in this woman’s company, they were now exchanging ideas as freely as he might with any of his fellows from the college. He glanced anxiously at Miss Stubbington’s expression, but could see only the enjoyment of the exchange reflected in the pinkness of her cheek and the light in her eyes.
‘Are you familiar with the term “Sacred Geometry”?’
‘Uh, I believe so. It is the mathematical principles which can be found in nature, that are also reflected in certain ancient structures.’
‘Exactly so. I am a seeker of this kind of knowledge. I travel extensively, I collect artefacts, measurements, stories. It is my belief that these ancient things hold the answers to questions we pose today.’
‘Madame, are you asking me to present…wild theories to the Society on your behalf? I would be a laughing stock!’
Miss Stubbington sits very upright, astonished in her own turn by his words. ‘Indeed not! If I cannot first persuade you of the merits of my argument, it would be a poor thing.’
Coates leant forward, apologetic, ‘Forgive me, Miss Stubbington. It is only that you are offering me my very heart’s desire. It is my nature that makes me suspicious of such an opportunity.’
Constance nodded, fingering the chains of the Chatelaine. Nicholas watched as she untangled the objects that hung from the belt, the usual keys and pouches of herbs settling amongst a pocket knife, a notebook and most astonishingly a sextant.
‘Who are you?’ Nicholas could no longer contain the question. Miss Stubbington only raised her brows. ‘There is no Constance Stubbington, I know that. No record, no whisper of you before the day you left your calling card.’
‘Your hypothesis?’ The question is a challenge. A glove across the cheek.
‘You are the daughter of a famous family, noble or perhaps even royal. You have the resources to pretend to wealth, and contacts with the finest minds in the Empire. You are using an assumed name, because you could not conduct yourself in this fashion using your real one?’
Constance listens to all this, that amused smile returning. ‘If such a thing were true, I could hardly admit it. Therefore, let us presume that it is, and go forward accordingly?’
Nicholas bobbed his head in agreement, noting that he had only felt similar emotions when he had been entirely out maneuvered during a chess game.
‘Very well. It would be beneficial if you could prepare yourself by reading certain texts, I will have them delivered to you. They will give you an overview of various forms of ancient magic, and how they pertain to the manipulation of time. I cannot expect you to be critical of my thinking unless you understand all the source material.’
‘Time?’
‘Indeed. It is time that I most urgently need to tame, Mr Coates, and so that is where we will begin. Now, I must beg your forgiveness and bring this meeting to an end. You will receive word from me by the end of the week as to the location of your laboratory. Begin your own experiments, build your reputation, Mr Coates. I will be depending on it.’
The lady rose, and Coates was forced by propriety to do the same. He bobbed his head in agreement, and watched as Miss Constance Stubbington swept from the room.
It was, he reflected, something like having been in the path of a tropical storm. He was uncertain as to the future but he did not for a moment consider refusing her offer. He had never felt more alive.