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fanning the air as if waving away a fly. Taking up his cup, he said, “Do you remember the last summer we were together?”
    “It was in many ways the most glorious summer of my life. How could I ever forget?”
    “Two keen and ardent souls without a care in the world. The days we spent in Ruma and Reate.” Turms chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. “The nights ! Sabine girls are the finest in all the world, say the sages. And, from experience—limited as it may be—I can in no way disagree. I should have married one when fortune smiled.”
    “It is not too late,” Arthur pointed out. “Never too late.”
    Turms smiled. “Perhaps not.”

CHAPTER 4

In Which Tea and Sandwiches
Are Encountered
    G iles?” Sensing that her companion was no longer with her, Wilhelmina spun around to find him on hands and knees, heaving the contents of his stomach into the soft pine matting of the pathway. She returned and knelt beside him. “Take a deep breath and relax. The worst is over.” She put her hand on his back. “That’s right—a slow, deep breath.”
    He did as she instructed, and Wilhelmina felt his ribs expand and contract as the breath went in and out of his lungs. “Again,” she advised, glancing back the way they had come. “Do you think you can walk? We have to move along. Burleigh’s men may catch our trail any moment.”
    Giles nodded and dragged a sleeve across his mouth.
    “Good.” She put her hand under his arm and helped him to his feet. “It really does get easier with practice.” She smiled. “But you’d better brace yourself. We have two more jumps before we’re in the clear. Right now, we have to get off this ley.” She turned and started into the trees lining the path.
    Giles, on wobbly legs, followed.
    They walked a fair distance before Wilhelmina paused to listen. There were no sounds of a chase, so she resumed at a slower pace, allowing her queasy companion to gain a little strength. “The next ley is in the valley beyond that hill,” she told him. “It is about an hour’s trek. There is a brook in the valley, and we can get a drink before we jump.”
    Giles nodded again.
    “You’re not one to wear out a person’s eardrums, are you.”
    “My lady?”
    “I mean, you don’t talk much.”
    “No, my lady.”
    “Please, call me Mina.” She smiled and extended her hand to shake his. “Just Mina.” She began walking again. “It’s this way.”
    She led and he followed a half-step behind, so that she had to raise her voice to talk to him. “You were Sir Henry Fayth’s valet,” she said. “Is that right?”
    “I was his footman and driver,” Giles corrected.
    “And I take it you haven’t made all that many jumps?”
    “My lady?”
    At his blank expression, she rephrased her question in the more formal style of address of an earlier age. “Am I to understand that you have but limited experience in ley travel?”
    “Yes, my lady. This was only my second time.”
    “I see. Has anyone explained to you about the time slip—that’s what I call it. You know, the way time slips around when you make a jump?”
    “No, my lady. But I know Sir Henry made many such leaps. He and Mr. Livingstone often travelled together, and I understand that the places they visited were not in the present day and time—if you see what I mean.”
    “Yes, well, I just want to warn you that we will be returning to Britain—but it will not be the country it was when you left.” She cast a quick glance at her sturdy companion. “What year was it when you left England?”
    “The year of our Lord sixteen and sixty-six, if I have it right.”
    “Then it will have changed.”
    “Are we going back to London?”
    “Not just now. We’re going to Scotland—Edinburgh, to be exact. You should recognise many things—there is much that remains unchanged from one era to the next. But the Britain we are going to visit lies about a hundred and fifty years into the future—that is, your