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James March Part Two

   The dumbwaiter all of a suddenly stops, but I can't see anything. I feel as though I have just run a marathon, with my breathing ragged and my heart going at a million miles an hour.
   I see nothing, only dark, for what feels like forever. Then, someone opens the small door on front of me, and the light blinds me. "Agh!" I groan, very loudly.
   "My dear, let me help you out of there! Come on," I hear a voice say. It's a man's voice, and he sounds very formal. My eyes are slowly adjusting, and I finally open them.
   I see a young man, with dark hair and a mustache of the same color. I take his hand cautiously, not knowing who he is, but feeling like I do.
   He pulls me out, a bit roughly to be honest, and I'm surprised to see myself in a beautiful silk gown.
   I stumble a bit once I'm out, due to the fact that I'm now wearing a dress and small heels. The man catches me and smiles a bit once I look at him. "So that's where you were. All this time, I thought I'd never find you,"
   He says this in a quiet, shocked tone, gripping my wrists tightly as well. His eyes are beautiful, but I can also see darkness inside them. Something almost...evil.
    It gives me a jolt when I look into them, the same feeling from earlier when I touched the receptionists hand. It's a good feeling though this time, and I stare at him.
   He smiles a crooked smile, and then takes my hand just as tight as he had my wrist. "Elizabeth...Elizabeth will be pleased. Come, now, please," He speaks to me as if he doesn't know exactly how to react to me.
   I furrow my brow, and finally speak. "Who are you?"
   He scoffs and pulls me along quickly. "You really don't know, do you?"
   I shake my head, and even though I think he can't see me, he speaks again. "I am James. James Patrick March. The owner of this hotel, and a close acquaintance of your best friend."
   I gasp, loudly. 'This is the man who killed himself,'   I think.
   Up ahead of me, James chuckles darkly. "Not yet, I haven't,"
   I then realize I must have spoken my thought out loud, and quickly apologize. "I'm sorry. But...this is a joke, right? Some sort of weird show this place does? Right? Sir?"
   He chuckles again, as if he knows I'm not of this time. "Oh, no, dear. You are in the year 1926. In the highlight of the year. And like I said, your best friend Elizabeth is waiting for you."
   I feel confused, but I then realize we have exited the kitchen, and walked up the stairs, to the large room that had been my hotel room.
   James takes out a single key and opens the door. The hotel room I was in is now twice as large, and beautifully decorated with what I know is to be antique furniture. But the furniture looks brand new, and quite amazing.
   I then look to the bed, which has a young woman sitting, turned away from me, brushing her hair slowly. "He found you. Thank God," The woman says softly. I recognize the voice and react immediately.
   "BFF/N?" I whisper, walking over to her. Once in front of her, I know. It's my best friend from...well, reality. "Okay, now I know this is a dream," I say to myself.
   BFF/N, or Elizabeth as James called her, laughs almost knowingly. She then stands and turns to me. Sliding her hand into mine, I feel another electric jolt, this one smaller compared to the one I felt around James.
   "Oh, Y/N. This is no dream, and you know it," she says this in a quiet but powerful voice, and I reel at her words. Because like always, I know my best friend is right.
   "But...how...why...who...?" I whisper, my mind going crazy and silent at the same time. I cannot think. I am scared. I am calm. I am uneasy. I am comfortable. I'm going crazy but feel perfectly sane.
   "You're home now. All your questions will be answered at dinner," Elizabeth smiles and kisses my cheek. "I will have Hazel come help you with a new dress, for I am very out of practice. Due to all of my years in the future, anyway."
   I blink, still trying to comprehend what is happening, but can't come to a conclusion. 'My questions will be answered soon,' I think, which helps me rationalize myself.
   Elizabeth smiles at me again, and I smile back shyly. "That's my girl," she says. She then places her hairbrush on an intricate dressing table, and steps out of the room.
   A few moments later, an older woman with about shoulder length red hair steps in the room. Her hair is curled, which makes it seem shorter. She is also wearing a maid's outfit, and dark red lipstick.
   "Hello," she says curtly. "Undress, now, please. Mr. March would like you ready within ten minutes, for dinner."
   I'm shocked at her cold and hateful tone, because up until now, everyone seemed at least civil. But still, I do as she says to the best of my ability.
   She sighs exasperatedly, comes over, and pulls the ties and things apart roughly. She then pulls the dress down, also pulling the shoes off my feet in the process.
   I smile at her, trying to apologize for any inconvenience caused by my lack of knowledge. She sighs again, this time softer. "She's not that wench Elizabeth. Calm yourself." I hear her speak to herself softly.
   She goes to the nearby wardrobe and pulls out a beautiful red silk dress, with small white beads along the cleavage area, arms, and bottom. I gasp at its beauty, and Hazel almost smiles. She then also pulls out a pair of beautiful white slips.
   She walks back over to me and tells me to life my arms. I do so, and she slides the dress on me quickly. She then goes behind me and tightens it. After all is done, my shoes on, as well as red lace gloves Hazel found in the dressing table, and makeup refreshed, Hazel takes me downstairs.
   She hands me off to James, who bows, then looks up as if he is almost taken aback, as I come down the stairs. Elizabeth is clapping lightly from the elegant table in the dining room, which was in place of the living room from my reality.
   We walk to the table, and James pulls my chair out for me. I sit down as smoothly as possible, and somehow manage to not mess anything up.
   I then notice two others at the table, a man and woman, who look to be what I assume is high class. The woman smiles at me, almost queen like, and then looks to what I assume is her husband.
   "John Lowe, and my daughter, Scarlett," The man says. So, I was wrong. She is his daughter. He then smiles at me, but it's a bit less sincere than Scarlett's.
   "My name is-" I start but am interrupted by James.
   "Joanna. Joanna Lumley," he says sharply. I look at him, confused. Elizabeth knows my name, so he must as well.
   He grins slyly at me, and I quickly realize. He doesn't want then to actually know who I am, let alone my name. And with that, dinner begins.