written in flourishing scripts. She thought of the library at Longbourn, with its well-worn books, and she thought how much her father would love the Prince’s collection.
As she wandered round the room she tilted her head to one side, the better to read the titles, although most of them were in Italian and barely comprehensible to her. But here and there she recognised a few English books: Tom Jones, Robinson Crusoe, Shakespeare’s plays.
She found herself curiously drawn to one corner, where the books were more densely packed than elsewhere, and one book in particular seemed to call to her.
She took it out and looked at it. It was bound in old, deep red leather and it was ornamented with script in gold lettering, which had been handled so often that it was beginning to flake. She could still see the title, however, Civitates Orbis Terrarum.
Opening the book, she saw that it had been published in 1572 in Cologne and that it was a book of engravings. It contained maps and prospects and birds’ eye views of various cities around the world. There were people in the engravings too, dressed in sixteenth century costume, the women wearing long dresses which flowed into trains behind them and the men wearing short cloaks.
It was fascinating to see views of various cities in times gone by, and as she turned the pages she found herself looking at images of places she recognised. She knew at once when she had arrived at engravings of Venice. There was a view of San Marco and the Palazzo Ducale, and—she felt a creeping fear crawl over her—the Palazzo Ducale was on fire. She had seen it before, that fire, in her dream. It had frightened her, and it frightened her again, so badly that she tried to thrust the book away from her, but somehow the book seemed to be stuck to her fingers and she felt compelled to look at the image.
I must have seen it before, she thought. I must have seen this engraving somewhere and that is why I saw it in my dream. It must have been a memory.
But she knew she had not seen the book before, and that, even if she had, it could not be the source of the image in her dream: the view in the Civitates was looking at the burning palace from the direction of the canal, but in her dream she had seen it from the other direction.
I didn’t dream it, she thought, with a terrifying realisation. I was in the past. I was there.
She dropped the book, letting it fall from numb fingers. Despite its great antiquity and obvious value, she felt only the vaguest sense of relief when it was caught by other hands which stopped it plummeting to the floor, for one of the Prince’s guests had entered the room and had saved it from its fall.
‘My dear young lady,’ he said in concern, ‘you are as white as a ghost. Are you unwell?’
She turned towards him and had difficulty in making out his face. It seemed ageless: unlined and yet old, sympathetic and yet devilish. It floated before her in silent mockery, completely at odds with his words and behaviour, and she felt very strange.
‘Here,’ he said, offering her his arm.
She did not respond, only looking at him, and he pulled her hand through his arm himself, saying, ‘Let me escort you to a seat.’
As he touched her, she felt her will altering, flowing, and merging with his. She moved with him to one of the window seats. She was ensorcelled by him. Her body was light and ethereal and her thoughts were unclear, as though her mind was filled with mist.
She was aware of a peculiar sensation as the room around her began to alter, distorting and changing like a wet portrait in the rain. The green wallpaper began to melt and run down the walls and a deep ochre ran down in great rivulets behind it and took its place. The curtains too began to change, their dark green velvet dropping away to be washed over with rivers of gold silk. Pictures were appearing and mirrors disappearing; beneath them the console tables were altering, their legs narrowing and their tops flowing with marble; the vases of flowers were being replaced with porcelain and ormolu clocks. The carpet was giving way to polished floorboards and the sound of unearthly laughter filled the air. He seized her in his arms and waltzed with