McCann's Manor by Charlotte Holley

he did if it be the last thing I ever do, and I will repay this wrong."
    Benjamin McCann stormed out of the room. Timothy the cat looked up at Liz a moment, then vanished. The room shifted again and Liz found herself once more in the library with which she was familiar. “Whew!” she said to herself, “seems McCann was not as he was represented at all."
    "What?” A voice to the side of the room asked.
    Liz jumped as the door swung open. “Kim! What are you doing here?"
    Kim stared at Liz a moment. “Hello! I live here, you know."
    "Well, yeah, I—that is, why are you wandering around at this hour of the morning?"
    "Liz, are you feeling all right? It is six-forty-five; I'm always up and wandering around by this hour. You, however, are not . I heard voices and came to see who was here."
    "You heard voices? Six —forty-five ? Is that what time it is? But it was four-fifteen just moments ago."
    Kim frowned at Liz, looked at her watch again. “Yes, I did hear voices, a man's voice and yours. And yes, it is six-forty-five! You're alone?"
    Liz opened her mouth to reply, cocked her head to the side then shook it. “Benjamin McCann and Timothy were here, just moments ago—and it was seventeen ninety-two—October first."
    Kim smiled and said, “I know you're going to have some kind of satisfactory explanation for the sentence you just ran by me. What do you say we go out to the kitchen and whip up some breakfast and you can tell me all about it?"
    Liz smiled, shrugged. “There is an explanation to all this, you know."
    "Yes, I'm sure there is; that is what I want to hear—it must be a doozie. Come on—I'm starved.” Kim led Liz out of the library and down the hall.
* * * *
    Liz had gone up to get her journal from beside her bed while Kim made waffles. Now she watched as Kim finished reading her entry. After Kim closed the book, Liz continued to wait. Kim studied her face, but said nothing.
    "Well?” Liz prodded at last. She finished eating her Belgian waffle, filled with pecans and covered with real butter and light syrup.
    "Well, that is something, Liz,” Kim offered, beginning to eat, now that she had finished reading. The waffles were stacked in a warmer in the center of the table.
    "So, do you think I'm going nuts or what?” Liz queried.
    Kim smiled at her, “Liz, you know better than that. My question is, do you think this information is valid?"
    Liz sighed, “I—don't know, Kim—I was hoping you might have some feeling about it. Am I imagining things, or is this to be believed?"
    "It has the ring of truth to it, but it still doesn't explain Ben McCann. And who is Timothy, anyway? That's what I want to hear about.” She cut her waffle with her fork and chewed the bite, waiting.
    Liz relaxed a bit. “Oh, I thought you thought I was nuts about Missy and it is McCann that worries you?” She sipped her hot and spicy chai tea.
    "So?” Kim lifted her eyebrows and watched her friend.
    "After the dream with Missy, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about the hidden passages and I thought if I went to the library, I might be able to corroborate that much of the story, at least.” She said as she thought through what she had done.
    Kim nodded, “ That much makes sense."
    Liz wrinkled her nose at Kim's sarcasm. “Well, thanks,” she said.
    "So?” Kim continued to encourage the conversation to move forward.
    "I was there a few minutes when I decided where I thought the passage might be. I was going over to examine the bookcase when there was an abrupt shift in energy.” She stopped and looked puzzled, then continued, “I can't describe it, but I knew something was different. I turned around and there he was, sitting at that huge old desk, writing a letter to his sweetheart, Constance."
    "Constance?” Kim echoed.
    "I know, but it is the kind of name a woman in seventeen-ninety-two might have had, you know.” Liz went on with her description, “And the whole room was different somehow. There were lanterns