Beautiful Whispers (Ausmor Plantation Book 1 - Romance/Suspense) (4 page)

Alexander cut the engine as soon as we passed the outer gates of Ausmor. Various greens whizzed by me and melted into one ginormous abstract expressionist blob of blur. I didn’t want him to slow down. I didn’t want to stop. On the back of his motorcycle, I didn’t have to think. I didn’t hear my sister’s voice and her incessant demands. None of which I’d ever live up to or do right. I didn’t see the worry in Mrs. Kiness’ eyes. I didn’t hear the whispers or feel the ache in my arm or my leg. I was me. Whoever me was. I was alive. Free. Without worry or fear.

I curled tighter around Alexander even though we were only going about seven miles an hour. Safe. I didn’t know why, but he made me safe.

“Better let you off here.” Alexander stopped the motorcycle at the back of the staff garage. “She’s got eyes everywhere.”

I quickly looked around hoping Mrs. Kiness wouldn’t jump out from underneath a blade of grass and lecture me about organ donations and two wheeled contraptions. I couldn’t force my limbs to move. Not yet. I didn’t want it to end. “Can’t we go back to town? I think I forgot the bag of whatever I was supposed to get.”

Alexander twirled the bag around his fingers and handed it to me.

“Are you hungry? I saw that cafe there.”

He jumped off the bike and held out his hand to me. I took it and saw the concern in his beautiful green eyes. Why did he have to look like that?

“What are you afraid of?”

I stopped. No one ever asked me questions like that. They told me what to feel. They didn’t inquire about specifics. What was I afraid of? Everything. Nothing. Everything. Him.

We heard a noise in the garage, and he lurched me off the bike to the bushes. I giggled like a five year old. I couldn’t help it. “What’s the matter?”

He glanced at me as if I had just taken my eyeball out and complimented a hat. “Gotta go.”

He left me hiding alone in the bushes and rushed off out of sight. “What the hell?” I looked down at my clothes. I wasn’t in my pajamas. Did I forget to wear makeup? I wondered about my breath. I never got how some people were able to cup their hands together, breathe into them and deduce if they needed a breath mint or coroner. But I’d had a few candy bars for breakfast,
and chocolate is world renowned for healing properties and inducing perfect hygiene. Couldn’t be that. Then what?

“The hell are you doing hiding out here?”

I closed my eyes. Aunt Bitty. I slowly rose out of the bushes and faced my fate. “Nothing, Bitty. How’s it hanging?”

She glared at me with her blackened, beady eyes - the smallest part of her other than her brain and compassion for any living thing. Elizabeth Austen, my mother’s younger sister, stood with her chicken arms bent in the awkward shape to rest on her hips. Known as The Bitty to her family and ‘The Beast’ to the staff, Bitty wore the dark blue dress, over sized apron and white cap of an 1870 kitchen maid. She let tourists watch her cook in the outdoor kitchen and called herself chef. She made delectable dishes like hangnail pasta and chocolate covered pickles.

“Why are you hiding in the bushes like some friggin rapist ready to slit our throats, bleed us dry and slip on our blood as he makes his getaway.”

I winced. “Be sure to tell me a bedtime story before I go to sleep tonight. I’m not hiding in the bushes. Thought Johnston was stalking me.”

She snorted. “You just think you’re all that, don’t you? Think everyone and his horny brother’s after you.”

I climbed out of the bushes. “That’s me. I’m just all that. Who wouldn’t want to get with this?” I swung
my arms out to the sides as if accepting tourists for a ride, but she didn’t catch onto my sarcasm.

She twirled some of her long red hair around her finger and tried to force it back into the lopsided bun she’d worn for the past twenty years. “Stay the hell out of my kitchen.”

I glanced around us. “Not in your kitchen.”

She stomped her foot and screamed as a few dozen blackbirds made their escape from her predatory screech. “I know you were in my kitchen last night. Know it.” She moved closer and pointed a flour encrusted finger at me. “And if I catch you again.”

“Again? You didn’t catch me the first time.” I breathed easier when I saw Evan - Lillia’s older brother, my former tutor and savior from all things sticky.

“Is there a problem?” Tall and thin, Evan, as handsome as Lillia was, well, whatever Lillia was, either didn’t realize how he looked or chose to ignore it. He, outside of Byron, was the most eligible bachelor around. His fan club – the
Evanites - gathered every morning to catch him with an armload of books, feeding the birds or doing tai chi or whatever he called his slow yoga moves. They rearranged their schedules to follow his.

Evan clasped his hands behind his back. “Can I help you with something, Elizabeth?”

Bitty glared. “Either this one or your bitch sister, Lillia, was in my kitchen last night.”

Evan waited for more. “And?”

Bitty hated everything from crickets to tourists to family to dirt clods, but no one hated Evan. All respected his knowledge – he’d been named the smartest guy in Virginia – and envied his patience in dealing with family situations that most would have fled or set fire to.

“Screw you,” Bitty said leaving in a huff. “Screw all of you!” Just because Bitty couldn’t hate Evan didn’t mean she liked him.

I made a mental note to check the news later and ask the government not to raise the terror alert level because of The Bitty screech. “Sadistic little thing, isn’t she?”

Evan didn’t answer. He nodded and looked down at the ground. He refused to ever say anything bad about a member of the Austen or Morgan family – even The Bitty. I flashed back to when eighteen year old Evan tried to convince his restless parents not to leave Ausmor. Evan could not imagine a world beyond the plantation. Unconvinced by Evan’s numerous arguments, Joseph relinquished his inheritance to Evan. Promises of ‘we’ll see you soon’ hung ominously in the air as they left Evan guardian to his six year old sister, Lillia. In the eleven years since the supposed year long cruise began, they hadn’t returned. It hurt me that he had to take on everything so young, but he never complained.

“Mrs. Kiness told me you’d like me to teach you all about computers?”

I took a deep breath. I could have been sarcastic or snotty but not with Evan. “Yes.”

Evan laughed. “That was difficult, wasn’t it? You so wanted to say something else.”

“Busted.” He and I walked back to the house, and I was glad he didn’t ask why I hid in the bushes. If Karenda had seen me, she’d have scheduled the lobotomy for sure.

“No, I knew you got a ride from Alexander.”

I stopped. “How?”

Evan smiled at me. “You like him.”

To anyone else, I wouldn’t have known how to respond. “Yes.” I said barely above a whisper.

“I can tell.”

“Wait…” I ran in front of him and blocked his path. “You don’t mind? You don’t think it’s against some weird rule or some such thing?”

He hesitated.

Uh oh.

“I just want you to be happy.”

“And?” I waited for Evan’s full explanation. Evan couldn’t decide he wanted water with dinner without a lengthy diatribe about stomach acids, some kind of dam in China and the politicization of water rights around the world.

“I just want…” Evan shoved his hands in his jean pockets then quickly took them out and hugged his chest so tight I was afraid the Celtic knot design on his sweater would snap at his ribs. “I want you to be…at peace.”

Not so bad. “Thank you?”

“Be careful of Mrs. Kiness. She does not like a scene, gossip or anything out of place. And what about him?” Evan nodded ahead to Byron walking towards us.

Crap. “Evan, do you think I’m a selfish little asswipe for going by Eva and not doing the whole Jane Austen thing like Karenda wants?”

He shook his head as if trying to remember how to spell Supercalifragilitous. “I’m sorry?”

I tried to
splurt everything out before Byron shifted focus. “Do you think I’m damaged beyond repair? Broken? Expired? Like something touched me so deeply I’ll never be the same again? And I should have died because now I’m just existing like a shadow or ghost?”

He felt my forehead. “How much chocolate have you had today?”

I quickly grabbed my throat. Did someone else use my voice? Is this me? Something about being with Alexander brought things up. Were they good things like the smell of lavender fields after a misty rain or bad things like the bile from yesterday’s burnt asparagus?

Byron caught up to us. “Evan.” He glanced at me. “Jane.”

“That’s me. Just Jane.” I curtseyed to get a feel. “Doesn’t matter what I want. What hovers thou? The quiet oceans of blue haired miscreants celebrate the flirty rain.” I squinted as the words crashed out. “I’ll work on the Austen prose.”

“Excellent,” Byron said. “I bought you all new editions of Jane’s works. Both the famous and unfinished.
I left them upstairs. Glad you’ve come to your senses and listened to me for once.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I was going to continue being me, but I think Alexander likes me either way.”

Evan smiled as he studied the ground.

Byron’s eyes narrowed. “He’s the son of a maid and gardener. Evan, you can’t allow Jane to embarrass the family—”

Evan bristled. “My cousin can do what she wants.” The last thing Evan wanted was for the family name lecture to be shoved in his face like some pee soaked rag. He’d heard it his entire life. He always did the right thing, gave leeway for others to find their own way and didn’t judge.

Byron leaned in closer to me. “What did I say about him?”

“That I should ride him till dawn? Get more quarters and do it again?”

Evan laughed.

Byron lost his speech at Evan’s reaction. “Evan Morgan.”

I patted Byron’s chest. “Don’t waste your time, By. My cousin isn’t as impressed with you as most. You won’t be slipping his panties off like every slut in town.”

Byron stepped back, but I could see the fire in his eyes. I don’t know how he would have reacted if Evan hadn’t been standing there.

I looked Byron over. Handsome? Yes. Personality? Sometimes toxic. “Do what you want. I
don’t give a shit anymore. Evan, meet me in twenty in the kitchen for my lesson?”

Evan nodded. “I’ll be there.”

I walked away. My stomach hurt. My head swirled. I’d never talked to Byron like that before. I’d never talked to anyone like that before. Byron was my first everything. I’d always loved him even when he cheated on me with anyone who could swing their legs high enough. “What’s happening to me?”

I had to see Alexander. It was the only thing that made sense. Around the side of the house, I passed the dried herb gardens, abandoned butterfly sanctuaries, former purple azaleas and daffodil patches all frozen over and praying for spring. I slipped on a bit of shadowed ice and grabbed for the side door which opened to the Old Wing and staff’s dining and lounging area. No one lurked, and the long dining table had already been cleared.

The giant, wooden mail organizer by the door sat bulging with messages. All the staff bedrooms were opened except for one. He has to be there. I didn’t know why, but I knew it was his room. None of the staff lounged on the chairs or sofas in front of the fire. At the far end in the closed off kitchen, chatter and clinking dishes meant the kitchen staff busied with cleanup. The aroma of fresh coffee and, more importantly, chocolaty hot cocoa with marshmallows bore into my mission.

I resisted the urge to dive into a cup and slithered to Alexander’s door and poised my hand up ready to
knock, but I couldn’t. I rested my hand against the door handle and gripped it ready to fling it open, but I hesitated. “What’s wrong with me?” My heart beat faster and faster until I thought I’d pass out. I closed my eyes and opened the door. He wasn’t there.

A navy blue comforter spread over a twin bed. Just enough room for a small wooden desk in the corner. I walked over to see Civil War books with bookmarks in various places. His notebook stood on top. I peeked around. Should I invade his privacy? I flipped open the top. Various dates and names from the war were scribbled in the margins. More notes on restoration littered along the side as movement out the window of Bitty stomping back to her kitchen distracted me.

The room was like I remembered. I think. Wait, what? I shook my head. I had no idea what I was thinking. Where were the words coming from?

His door opened, and Alexander stood in the hallway. When he saw me, he quickly stepped inside the room and shut his door.

Suddenly, everything made sense. I didn’t think. I couldn’t resist. I needed him. I rushed to him and kissed him.

His lips covered me, and his fingers brushed the hair back behind my neck. Our bodies locked together, and I knew he was mine. “Don’t stop,” I said, afraid he’d push me away or reason with me.

Alexander rested his forehead against mine. His fingers gently touched my lips. “I’ve waited so long.” His accent - gravely and slow. His hushed words slowly dripped.

I could listen to him all day. Forever.

He took my face in his hands and looked deep into my eyes. “You remember me now?”

My heart stopped. It was like the first time we kissed but felt like the hundredth time he said those words. I froze.

He pulled away. His eyes searched for an exit. He stepped back and studied me. “You don’t remember, do you?”

I didn’t know what to say. What answer did he want? What would take the worry from his eyes and put his lips back on me?

He closed his eyes. “I can’t do this again. I won’t go through this again.”

Nothing made sense. The room swirled. My head ached. I studied the closed door. Should I flee? “Stay.” I willed my heart to stop dancing and forced myself to look at Alexander. “Remember what?”

I should have just kicked him in the stomach. The pain in his face would have hurt me less. “I’m sorry.” I moved towards him, but he backed away.

“You should go.” This time, his hollowed voice echoed as if he spoke over the radio thousands of miles away.

“I don’t understand. What did I do?” I tried to touch him, but he leaned out of my grasp. “What is it?”

He grabbed me and ushered me to the door.

I whipped around and faced him. “I’m not leaving.”

“Come on.” He tried to budge me, but I stayed firm and blocked the door.

“I’ll scream.”

He stepped back. “Seriously?”

I wasn’t sure, but I liked how that gave him pause. “I’ll do what I have to do to get you to talk to me.”

His face went from shock to a smile. “That’s the you I know.”

The words jolted me. Images flooded of him and me. Together. Everywhere. He kissed me in the gardens. In my room. In his room. Everything spun around. I didn’t realize what was happening. I came to on the floor in Alexander’s arms. “Where am I?”

“You passed out or got dizzy or something.”

I jumped up. “Evan! I have to meet Evan.”

“You need to—”

I tried to open the door, but he closed it again. “Wait. Talk to me. What’s happening?”

I didn’t face him. I rested against the door as my stomach lurched. “I don’t...it’s just...I don’t know what you do to me.” I gathered my courage and faced him. “All I know was everything was fine, and now you show up and...”

Alexander squinted as I spoke.

I wasn’t sure if the words were in sequence or a mash.

“You’re remembering things?”

I nodded. “I guess. I don’t know. The room spins. I feel like I do right before I hurl. Snippets of whatever, and then I’m somewhere else.” I studied him. Alexander. I remembered my dreams of him. My practice wedding with him when I was eight and how he’d cheer me up after I found Byron with someone else. “All I know is that you complicate things.” I said it as a compliment, and I hoped he took it as one.

He frowned, and I was afraid he’d get angry or hurt or something. Then he smiled at me. “Good.”

Now, it was my time to frown. “What?” I mean I know I didn’t want him hurt but his reaction was just...well...weird.

He stepped closer until he was only an inch from my face and peered into my eyes. “Does Byron do that to you?”

I couldn’t help but blush, and I couldn’t stop the smile from taking over. I shook my head. “No.”

Alexander smiled. “Good.” He opened the door behind me and ushered me out. He grabbed my hand and kissed it. “Thanks for stopping by Miss Austen.” He smiled and closed the door.

I stared at his closed door wondering what just happened. I heard a few giggles and looked to see two of the kitchen maids spying on me, whispering and then quickly fleeing once I looked at them.

I thought about knocking on Alexander’s door again. I thought about lunging in there, but what would I say? What just happened? What did I miss? What did I remember? What did I forget?

I stood there for an eternity, but the pieces flipped over and outta whack. My stomach finally settled down, and my head stopped the spin cycle. My phone buzzed, and I had a text from Evan.

“I have arrived for our lesson.” Evan waited in front of the closed door of the kitchen about ten feet away.

I glanced at him. “You couldn’t have just cleared your throat?”

Evan shrugged. “I prefer the formality of the written word.”

I relented to the lesson. But luckily, it took place in the kitchen in sight of Mrs. Hodges’ chocolate chip cookies and something apple pastry like under a glass dome. “First the cookies and then the pastry.” I muttered to myself as Evan meticulously laid out a lesson plan, his laptop, various books and notes.

“You did all this so quickly?” Why was I surprised? Evan could organize the bejesus out of anything.

He handed me a red pocket notebook. “For your notes.”

“Usually just use my hand,” I said. “Or ask someone else to remember it.” I heard the words come out of my mouth. Who the hell am I? I need someone to follow me around? What am I, six? “I need to get my shit together.”

Evan nodded. “Okay. I can help you with some of it.”

“No. I mean it.” I jumped up and grabbed a handful of cookies. “Enough with the little girl act of everybody tiptoeing around me. By the way, why do they tiptoe around me?”

Evan opened his mouth to say something, but he immediately stopped himself. “I’m not sure if this is the appropriate—”

I touched his arm. “Please, Evan. If I don’t find out what the hell, I’ll go mad. Insane. Out of my friggin
gourd, arguing with the wind, dipping paint chips into chocolate with Bitty.”

Evan closed the books. “You want me to do the website, don’t you?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m all in with the computer whatever, but just...when I was kissing Alexander...” I stopped because Evan shifted in his chair. “This is okay to talk with you about, right?”

He nodded. It wasn’t an emphatic nod, but I took it.

“Just nothing graphic or...disturbing.”

“Right,” I said. “Photographic memory.”

“I don’t want to get any images that I can’t scrub out of there.”

I nodded. “Okay, so whenever I’m with Alexander. And I’m just talking with him. You know fully clothed nothing of his anywhere near my—”

“Okay,” Evan raised his hand to stop me. “Got the picture. Go on.”

“So, my mind goes all gooey, and even though I really want him to continue...you know...doing—”

“Right.” Evan motioned with his hands for me to speed it up.

“I get flashes of things, and then I pass out. It’s like I can remember things that haven’t happened, you know? Like Alexander and I together when we’ve never...” I put my fingers to my mouth, and I swore my lips still tingled from his kiss. “We’ve never. I don’t think
we’ve ever. I mean I want to.” I leaned closer to Evan. “Have you seen him?”

Evan jumped up. “Stop.” He took a deep breath. “Long story short, Alexander was employed at Ausmor last year.”

I frowned. “He was? No, he wasn’t. Was he? I would’ve remembered, wouldn’t I?”

Evan looked at me as if waiting for me to catch on. He’d have a long wait. “You two were...together, but...”

“What happened?”

“Byron.”

“Byron wanted to be with him?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Focus please.”

“Sorry.” I didn’t know why I reverted to weirdness when things got as uncomfortable as that one weird stiff chair in the dining room. Defense mechanism I guessed. Then I got it. “I chose Byron, didn’t I?”

Evan nodded.

I wanted to ask why so I could kick my own ass, but it was Byron. It had always been Byron. I slammed my hand on the table. “It’s my pattern!” Like ugly ass wallpaper that doesn’t want to turn the corner and continue down the hall, Byron was my ugly ass wallpaper pattern. The pieces started to fall into place, but Evan squirmed as if I’d start handing out vivid details of Byron’s anatomy. “Okay, Evan. Teach me about computers.”