heat gave a warm welcome to the room. I searched the shelves, contemplating and wishing I had a Julia Quinn or Rachel Van Dyken novel, but I knew that was impossible. Neither author had been born, and wouldn't be for a few hundred years. But what I did find made me smile — Persuasion. I clutched the beloved book to my chest.
Oh, Nanna, if you only knew. If you were only here now… I took the book over to the comfortable chair next to the fire and flopped into it, dangling my leg over the armrest in a very unladylike manner. For a brief moment, I contemplated moving into a more proper position, but I was done with the prim mannerisms. They hadn't gotten me anywhere. I flipped open the book and began to read.
After an hour, I'd reached one of my favorite scenes when I noticed ink stains that had bled through the next page. Flipping the page quickly, I noticed the stains were deeper on the next page. I could almost read the reversed letters. I turned to the next page and saw, in bold ink, a familiar script that made my heart skip a beat.
"Nanna?" I breathed before beginning to read the bold note.
Choices. Life is full of them, but they all lead us home one way or another. The choices we make simply determine how we reach our destination. You have yours, Jocelyn. If you wish, you may return. Simply put on the same gown that got you here. But if you wish to stay, replace the book and don't look back, because you won't get the opportunity. You must always look forward. But remember, often the hardest decisions are difficult because fear chokes out courage. Remove the fear and follow your heart. That will lead you home by the most perfect path.
Leaning back, I closed my eyes and thought over her words. They caressed my mind like a gentle hug, and my heart healed just the tiniest bit. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision press upon my shoulders. My first response was to run upstairs and put on the dress as quickly as possible. But I knew that I'd only be running away from my problems. If I would have read the note just a day before Morgan had left, I would have been severely tempted to disregard any idea of returning home but not so much now. Now I didn't know if I had any reason to stay, but it hurt to know I didn't have anything to return to either.
Nanna, what do I do? I mentally pleaded. As I stared into the fire, I tried to think of a legitimate reason to leave, one that didn't result from fear.
Reading the words again, I stopped at the part where she told me to follow my heart. A cynical laugh escaped my lips. I did, and look where it got me. Nanna would understand if I gave up and went home.
Playing with the fringe of my house robe, I absently contemplated what would happen if I did choose to leave. I could always search my name on the Internet and find out what happened… I grinned at the thought. Ahh, I did miss technology. I wonder what I'd discover, or even if there would be any historical account at all. Perhaps the unconventional heiress Jocelyn Westin simply disappeared… or maybe it would be as if I had never existed in this time at all.
But back in my own time, would people miss me? With a whimpering realization, I admitted the truth to myself. I'd be missed more here, in a foreign time, in spite of people calling me a harlot, than I would be back home. But was that enough of a reason to stay?
The debate continued in my mind for some time. Still unsure, I ascended the stairs and went to my room. As I stood before my wardrobe, a small smile lifted the corner of my lips. Wardrobe. The key to my future was in a wardrobe. Immediately I thought of C.S. Lewis's books.
With a small shake of my head at the irony, I opened the doors and searched for the dress. The soft whispers of fabric filled me with an odd nostalgia. I would miss wearing these dresses. Oh, I still dreamed of denim and T-shirts, but the feminine flow of a dress had been a welcome change. No matter the weather or occasion, I simply felt