“You like my mirror, child?”
Sue smiled at Tara’s eccentric maiden aunt. “It is unusual,” she agreed, looking once more at the numerous gilded cherubs that gaudily crowded around the antique glass, smoky with age.
“It’s been in my family for generations. Since the Middle Ages in fact. My many times great grandfather had it made for his daughters for Valentine’s Day.”
“They celebrated Valentine’s Day that long ago?” Lucy asked in amazement.
“Oh my yes. In the Middle Ages St. Valentine was a most popular saint and they had many interesting customs surrounding the day. They took it very seriously – not like the frivolity you see today.” Miss Williams wrinkled her nose in distaste and the three women visiting her shared amused glances.
“What kind of customs, Auntie Gert?” Tara asked encouragingly. She loved her father’s great aunt with all her heart and was very pleased to be able to show her off to her two friends. They had spent an enjoyable evening this St. Valentine’s Eve sharing good food, stories and laughter. Tara had never seen her aunt so animated. The extra company had done her good and she was glad she had followed her impulse and invited Lucy and Sue along on the visit.
“Well, let me think now. Ah, here’s one that many young women would do well to implement nowadays. It would simplify the whole courtship procedure immeasurably. Not that there is much of a courtship nowadays, the way girls flit about from man to man and vice versa,” Aunt Gertie muttered under her breath. “Well, now, seeing as you young ladies have yet to find your knight in shining armor, you might like to give this a try. Tara dear, bring me a bowl from the kitchen. Any one will do – a clean one, mind.” As Tara hastened to do her bidding Aunt Gertie turned to Lucy and Sue. “While she’s gone I want you to write out the name of every eligible young man you know.” She reached for a writing tablet and began expertly tearing hearts out of the paper. “One name to a heart. Then fold them up and put them in the bowl. Here’s Tara now.”
Obediently the three women bent over their task and thoughtfully scribbled down names.
“No jokesters now, mind. You could saddle your friend with a n’er do well for life,” Aunt Gertie warned. Tara promptly crumpled up three of the names she had written. “Now, toss them all into the bowl and swirl them around. That’s right. Tara, you pick first. Then Lucy. Then Sue.” Each woman selected a heart and took a quick peek.
Tara flushed with excitement. “Now what, Auntie?”
“Now, you sleep with that scrap of paper under your pillow tonight and on the morrow, St. Valentine’s day, if you’re brave enough, you pin that name on your sleeve and where it there for a week. Then see what happens.”
“Is that where the saying, wearing your heart on your sleeve comes from?” Lucy asked, her eyes alight with excitement.
Auntie Gertie nodded her head, but something outside the living room window caught her eye. “Can you hear that?” she fretted, “Ice on the roof. It’s freezing rain again. You girls can’t possibly travel home in this weather there’s nothing for it but for you to spend the night.” The old lady seemed unaccountably delighted at the prospect of extended visitors. Seeing the protests beginning to form on more than one pretty face she thumped her cane imperiously. “I won’t hear a single excuse. I have plenty of room and will enjoy seeing your fresh faces over breakfast tomorrow morning. Tara, you take Lucy and Sue upstairs and let them each pick a room and chose some nightclothes for them from the hall closet. When you’ve changed come back down here and I’ll tell you all a bedtime story.”
* * *
“Your Aunt Gertrude is something else,” Lucy said with admiration. “That’s what my Grams is going to be like if she ever lives to be a hundred a four.”
“Is she really that old?” Sue asked, shimmying into a delectable frothy white nightgown that definitely belonged to another time period.
“Don’t forget your cap,” Tara teased, slipping the sheer lace onto her head and tying a bow under her chin while Lucy and Sue giggled some more. “And Aunt Gertie has the birth certificate to prove it. Okay – all ready?”
“We look like something out of the middle Ages,” Lucy joked, prancing around her white robe. “I’m Princess Lucy and you two are my ladies in waiting.”
“No fair,” Sue pretended to be miffed. “You chose the best role for yourself. I want to be a princess too.” Her pretty pout was ruined by the comical wrinkling of her nose as she tried not to laugh.
“Children, children. We can all be ladies of the manor tonight. Come one, Aunt Gert must be getting tired. She’ll want to see us all decked out in our finery before she goes to bed.”
* * *
“But you don’t really believe that do you?” Sue asked skeptically. Tara and Lucy’s rapt perusal of the Valentine Mirror as Gertrude Williams called it, worried her.
“I’d give practically anything if it were true,” Lucy sighed wistfully.
“There’s no such thing as magic,” Sue said firmly, trying to quell the unidentifiable stirring she felt in her bosom. “It’s not possible to see your future by looking into the past…at least not this way.”
Aunt Gertrude had retired for the evening after she had entertained her three guests with a superstitious story about the mirror that dated back to the Middle Ages and the knights of yore. “Back when men were strong and brave and true.” The old lady had winked knowingly at them. “Isn’t that every girl’s dream – to have a knight in shining armor?”
“That was the plan,” Lucy acknowledged somewhat sourly.
“And it still can be,” Aunt Gertrude said with conviction. “When the time is right. I find it most providential that you three have been stranded at my doorstep on St. Valentine’s Eve. Mind what I said. Each of you give it a good polish on Valentine’s Day and see what you spy…Use a nice soft cloth and some elbow grease and you just may be surprised at what you see…”
And no matter how Lucy and Tara had begged, Aunt Gertie wouldn’t tell them any more.
Lucy walked back and forth in front of the mirror, watching her distorted refection in the antique, smoky glass. She laughed as her reflection shimmered. “It sure looks like there’s something inside there – this mirror has more depth than any I’ve ever seen.”
“Of course it does. It’s ancient; they don’t make them like that any more. Honestly, we’re not twelve year olds on a sleep over pulling out the ouja board. We’re grown women and you two are acting like you’ve been cast under a spell. Here I’ll show you.” Sue marched up to the mirror and began to give it a vigorous rub.
“Stop! It’s not time!” Tara cried, pulling her friend away. “You’re not supposed to do that until Valentine’s Day. You’ll jinx it or us if you do it earlier.”
“Oh for pity’s sake. Nothing happened. Nothing’s going to happen.” Sue exclaimed in exasperation.
“Right, time for bed before we get into an argument. I say we meet back here first thing in the morning and each give polishing the mirror a try. Until then…” Lucy zipped her lips. “Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
* * *
Moving stealthily and quietly in the darkened hallway she made her way down the stairs, her white gown billowing about her bare feet. Once in the hallway below she practically floated into the formal living room and came to a halt in front of the Valentine mirror.
It must be too dark to see my reflection, she thought when the mirror gaped emptily back at her. Well, I’m down here; I might as well get it over with. Pulling her hand back inside the voluminous sleeve of her white nightie she reached out and began to carefully polish one small corner of the mirror.
Suddenly her stomach lurched, her head felt light and her whole body felt an unbearable pressure for a split second before she collapsed onto the ground gasping for breath. Her hands clutched the springy grass and she bent her head low trying to stay the waves of nausea that had suddenly assailed her.
“Grass?” she exclaimed in surprise and looked up quickly, startled to see that men dressed in armor surrounded her.
“What manner of witch might you be, then?” one asked menacingly.
She looked about, bewildered. It was dark and most of the men had heavy facial hair.
Were they speaking to me? Where am I? What do I do? What do I do? Sue hugged herself and stumbled back a step, falling ungracefully in a pile of billowing nightgown.
Grubby hands reached for her, causing her to scream in terror. “No! Leave me alone!” She felt something solid behind her. A large stone. Huddling into herself, she sat against it, eyes wide.
The assorted men in various states of dress stood looking at her. Some with feral glints. Others with puzzlement. Still others with concern. Behind them, a large bonfire raged, its light flickering off the knights’ armor.
Sue’s heart pounded harder. Why didn’t I wait till morning? I am lost, Father. It’s dark and I can’t see and I’m scared. She clenched her eyes closed against hot tears.
A cold, wet nose touched her hand. Blindly, she grabbed for the coarse fur, pulling the animal close, burying her face in its hair. The pair sat like that for several long moments until she felt the animal bark.
She peeked up to see the men part, allowing one man through. He carried a small tallow candle in a metal shield. One gesture from him sent all the company back to the comfort of the bonfire. All save one.
Like a dark colossus, the single knight stood, his back to the fire. Sue watched him, trying to read his body language. Strength. Confidence. Vigilance as he stood guard over his leader.
The animal in her grasp wiggled free, drawing her attention to the approaching man. As he neared, the candlelight revealed his features causing her to gasp…
***
lalala
...sort of!
Time travel Trecebo-style! 
I'll wait for more!
(Sorry, that's about all my tired brain can muster right now, it's 1:40 AM here.) 
Restie
