Page 1 of The Journal of a Thousand Years
CHAPTER 1
LONDON, 1920
The long, sweltering summer surrendered to a damp autumn the day the calendar changed to September. The cooler weather was welcome for those of us who couldn’t afford to leave London. The city had become an oven throughout most of August, and anyone who could retreat to the seaside or country did so. Except for Gabe Glass, that is. His family owned an estate, and with his parents away, the manor was available for his use, but he chose to stay in London. My friend Daisy suggested I was the reason behind his decision.
“He wants to be whereyouare, Sylvia,” she said as we walked along Bond Street. The end of the drizzling rain meant we could finally lower our umbrellas and walk arm in arm. “It’s clear to everyone that he stayed in the city because of you.”
Gone were the days where I’d dismiss the suggestion, or change the subject, or deny my feelings for Gabe. I no longer even blushed when someone mentioned his affection for me. Ever since we’d kissed outside the drawing room of his Mayfair townhouse almost a week ago, I’d accepted that we couldn’t deny our feelings for each other any more than we could stop breathing.
Nevertheless, I wasn’t so self-absorbed as to think I was the only reason he remained in London. He wanted to flush out the person who’d tried to kidnap him. That same person had also stabbed him and conducted tests to study his reactions. The most recent test had involved us being shot at. Gabe’s magic responded by slowing time, ensuring we all survived. Despite his friends’ attempts to squirrel him away to the countryside, Gabe was determined to stay and capture whoever was responsible for disrupting his life.
I didn’t mention any of that to Daisy. She was only partly listening as she gazed upon the wares displayed in the shop windows. At first, I thought she was envious of the expensive jewelry and exclusive hat designs, but then I realized she was studying them with a creative eye. She’d recently declared she was going to become a fashion designer, although her conviction had already begun to waver as she realized she didn’t like to sew, and all her best designs were inadvertently copied from magazines.
I also didn’t mention Gabe’s troubles because that would remind her of Alex, and thinking of him would make her melancholy. I’d yet to discover what had happened between them, but I suspected it had something to do with introducing him to her parents.
Daisy stopped abruptly in front of the window of The Home Emporium, a shop that sold soft furnishings and housewares. “Oh, look at that.”
I followed her gaze to the black velvet cushions embroidered with a bold geometric pattern in gold arranged on a chaise longue. I couldn’t see the price, but I knew from a past visit to the shop that only the very wealthy could afford their items. Despite her privileged upbringing as the daughter of a lord, Daisy wasn’t well-off. The money she’d inherited from her grandparents had almost run out, hence her needfor employment. Unfortunately, daughters of noblemen weren’t equipped with many employable skills. Daisy’s keen sense of the modern woman’s style might benefit her, however.
“It’s very smart,” I said, “but it won’t suit your flat.” Daisy’s furniture was a mixed ensemble of pieces from her parents’ home that they no longer wanted, and things she’d bought cheaply. There was no cohesion to the collection, yet somehow it all worked together.
“Not the chaise or the cushions, although they are terriblychic.” She pointed at a card propped up against one of the cushions. “I’m referring to that. Look at what it says.”
“Wanted: a respectable, steady young woman, about twenty-three years of age, as a shop assistant. She must have a pleasant disposition and good appearance,” I read. “Are you giving up on fashion, Daisy?”
“I think so, yes. While I adore clothes, I’m no designer.”
I watched her studying the chaise longue and cushions, and the small table lamp beside it with a slender brass base and domed shade. Her gaze held wonder as she took in every detail. “Perhaps you’re not a designer of clothes, but of furnishings.”
Her head whipped around, and she blinked at me. “Do you think so? I do love The Home Emporium. I often go in just to browse and imagine how I would use a particular piece in a particular room.”
“There you are then. Plus, that advertisement has your name all over it.”
She studied it again. “I am twenty-three. And I’m from a respectable family and have a pleasant disposition.”
“Not to mention that your appearance is better than good. Although I don’t know why appearance matters for a shop assistant.”
Daisy pouted. “The ad asks for someone steady, and I have a rather fickle nature.”
“Nonsense. When it comes to the things you love, you are as steady as they come, and I know you love furnishings. Besides, you have an excellent eye for putting a room together. The position was made for you, Daisy. Go inside and apply.”
I gave her a little shove in the direction of the door, then waited for her to return a few minutes later.
She emerged, beaming. “I begin tomorrow.”
I hugged her. “There now, doesn’t it feel right?”
“Yes. Yes, it does.”
I hooked my arm through hers and we continued our walk to Petra Conway’s stationery shop. “It’s good to see you smiling again, Daisy. I’ve been worried about you. It’s not like you to be gloomy for so long.”
A stoop of her shoulders accompanied her sigh. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bore. It’s my family, you see. I always knew they were snobs, but now I’ve realized how horrid my parents truly are.”
“What happened? What did they say when they met Alex?”
“Nothing. That’s the whole problem. They treated him as though he was a groom or footman escorting me. They barely even looked at him, let alone spoke to him.”
I hugged her arm. “What will you do?”
