Page 7 of The Uprising
‘Well, if I didn’t know better, I’d say yes, that must be it. But no, George, it’s started again. I actually time travelled back to Tudorville; I’m certain of it. I met you and the children. And Edward. But then we were back at court. God, it was weird. I had to act as though none of this present-day stuff is happening.’
‘What? Oh no, don’t tell me I didn’t remember.’
‘Nada. Absolutely nothing.’
‘Did you test me with the Cornelius code?’
‘Yep.’
‘And?’
‘Nothing. It was quite funny, really. You couldn’t understand why I would ask about our dog when you’d just received a letter from the king.’
‘King Henry?’
‘Yes. He’s married to Jane Seymour now.’
‘What year is it then?’
‘It’s still 1536, would you believe?’ said Cara.
George shifted in bed and pulled himself further up; his book forgotten. ‘So, that means time isn’t equal in the timelines. A year has passed here but not there. It’s extraordinary... Did you figure out what month it is?’ he asked.
‘Yes, it's October. And I was upset, but I can’t remember why.’ She shook her head as if it were full of cobwebs. ‘Oh, lord. It’s coming back to me now. I was angry with you.’
George blinked. ‘Angry with me? Whatever for? I’m a lovely chap and I’m always in your good books in Tudorville. It was only here we used to argue like bloody idiots.’
‘You won’t believe what you did.’
‘Go on.’ George cleared his throat.
Cara’s frown deepened, and she stared at him as the memories whirled into her mind.
‘I will say in advance that it’s wholly unfair to hold me accountable for anything whatsoever because I know nothing of my doings back then. I’m a model husband now; let’s not forget that important fact,’ he added, seeking to charm her out of her miserable black cloud.
Cara smiled, but the sadness reflected in her grey eyes. George always made her feel better, no matter how dire the situation.
‘You have only gone and taken a bloody mistress.’
George shook his head. ‘No. You must be mistaken. I wouldn’t do that.’
‘No. I’m not mistaken. I only wish I were. I overheard the servants talking when they came in to clean our apartments at Hampton Court. It was awful.’
‘Oh, so it must be true, then... You know better than to believe court gossip.’ He removed his glasses and closed his eyes, pinching the top of his nose as if he had a raging headache.
The charged silence reverberated between them.
Cara said nothing as she watched him fight to contain his frustration.
Finally, he looked up and their eyes locked. ‘You’re jumping to conclusions based on a dream.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I’ve so enjoyed this peaceful interlude without these ridiculous arguments cropping up. Last year was like living in a Shakespeare play, all misunderstandings and hearsay, over nothing.’
‘How can you say it’s nothing? You have taken a mistress! Goodness knows how many noblemen she’s entertained before you. It’s vile to even think of it.’
‘Then don’t,’ he said, his tone sharp and his expression stern. He picked up his book. ‘I do hope when you calm down, you’ll see how ridiculous this is.’
Cara shook her head and her voice was high pitched. ‘I can’t believe it. When I think of those lonely months I was languishing at Willow Manor waiting for word to join you; worrying about you, missing you, and all the while you were shagging some hot court-babe and sending the occasional note to keep me sweet.’
George let out a low laugh.
