Whispers from the Past (19 page)

I read this last bit with a smile. All kisses shared with Mark had been wondrous. Even the first one had been delicious, filling me with joy and pleasure and the desperate want for more. It seemed impossible that there might never be another.

It was well that someone had shown an interest in her, but she was wise to suspect her lack of feeling. Mr. Timmons hadn’t captured her heart, for which I was glad. Deborah was right. Mr. Pratt would never permit such an alliance.

I lowered the sheet to my lap and closed my eyes, allowing the sad news to wash over me, rippling through me in waves, snatching away my breath. It was unimaginable how many women had been lost to the common and natural act of childbirth. Medical science was one of the finest parts of the twenty-first century.

I had brought paper and pen to write my own letter immediately. I couldn’t waste another moment. Indeed, I had to hope that the passage of time hadn’t soured her enthusiasm. I wrote my letter with painstaking care.

I stood before the waterfall, with its shimmering flow, and begged, “Please let it be March of 1805 in Dorcas’s world.”

I crossed, left my note, and returned.

For the next several days, I would rise each morning as early as possible and return to this spot, hoping and praying for her letter. I couldn’t let my thoughts stray to what I would do if she did not hurry—or if she did not respond at all.

I joined Isaac for a soup kitchen run that night. It was my second trip. It would be the last one for a long while, although I did not share this fact with him.

With great care, I followed his instructions to remain inside the building unless I was hauling food with someone else. Once the supplies had been carried in, I helped the volunteers clean the dining hall.

We had only just returned to Lucy’s when Marissa entered the restaurant. Her eyes scanned the room until they found me at a table, enjoying a quiet cup of tea with Isaac.

She pulled out the empty chair between us and sat down. With a pointed look, she frowned into his face and asked, “Are you trying to get into Susanna’s pants?”

“Marissa!” I said with a gasp. I’d heard her use that expression often enough with the guys she dated, but with me? And my friend?

Isaac’s lips twitched. “No, I’m not, but then I’d hardly admit it if I were.”

She gestured toward me, her gaze never leaving his face. “What is it that you like about her? And don’t give me any crap about enjoying her company on food shuttle rides.”

Isaac turned to smile at me. “Is she always like this?”

He wasn’t angry. I smiled back in relief. “She is. Perhaps you are fortunate, for she has chosen to be restrained with you.”

“Good.” The smile disappeared, and he edged forward on his seat. “Susanna is amazingly kind and the most nicely honest person I’ve ever met. She’s also completely uninterested in me as a potential boyfriend, which is great because I like knowing where I stand.”

Marissa’s nose wrinkled. “Okay, you get a pass.” She whipped around to give me a hard stare. “April fifteenth is

Gran and Granddad’s party. You have to come.”

In the space of two minutes, Marissa had led me from embarrassment to amusement to a haunting sense of regret. “You know I cannot go.” The refusal rasped painfully in my throat.

“You have to. It’ll kill them if you don’t show.”

“Mark will be there.” My gaze dropped to my hands, clasped together in my lap.

“Of course he will.”

I shuddered. “I cannot see him. It is too soon.”

She reached over and laid a gentle hand over mine. “You can’t do this to my grandparents. Focus on them. Don’t think about Mark.”

“Stop, Marissa.” I had made myself clear with her. Why was she raising the question again before an audience?

“Have Isaac bring you.” She swiveled to stare at him. “Are you free three weeks from today?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Would you be willing to drive Susanna out to my grandparents’ house on Jordan Lake? The event starts at two. It’ll be held outdoors. Nothing fancy.”

“I’d be happy to.”

“See, Susanna? You have a ride, and you don’t have to stay long. It’ll be good.” She smiled with determination. “All decided.”

I made a trip to the waterfall in vain on Sunday. There was no response to my letter.

I had given Dorcas no reason to check often. Perhaps I would fail to elicit her attention in a prompt manner.

There would need to be two plans. One with her help. One without. The latter would present far greater difficulties.

If Dorcas did not respond in the required time frame, I would be forced to present the petition myself. I would hope that a week would be sufficient advance notice to place it on the docket.

Once I had turned in the petition, I would have to hide for the week before appearing in court.

With this alternative plan, I had less than three weeks to complete my preparations and leave for the past.

Although I did not wish to consider the potential problems, I had to weigh the likelihood that my case would be postponed until July. Would I be imprisoned or, worse, bound over to Mr. Pratt? In either possibility, would I have access to Dorcas? I did not care for these thoughts. It made the need for assistance from the Etons even more imperative.

I didn’t like this plan, but I would proceed as if it were most likely.

The church at the end of the lane included a small thrift store in its basement. After worship service on Sunday, I paid a visit, hoping that there might be garments that could form the beginnings of my new wardrobe. I located two large cotton nightgowns in pleasing shades. Careful research on the internet had reassured me that—with a bit of lace trim, wide ribbons, and a reworking of the fastenings and seams—I could create believable nineteenth-century gowns.

I would have to fashion a set of stays. I did not relish their use, but there could be no helping it. A proper lady in 1805 would always require their support. My other undergarments—my shift and stockings—would be the finest I could afford. I decided I should save the purchase of them for another day.

A pair of leather slippers and a somewhat frayed straw hat completed the wardrobe.

Preparations for my visit to the past had begun in earnest.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-F
OUR

C
HICK
F
LICK

Gabrielle was waiting at the front door as I parked in the cobblestone driveway. She stepped aside silently as I entered the house.

“Are Jesse and Benita here?”

“No.” She shut the door with a soft
click
. The security system chirped twice before she spun around. “It’s just us tonight.” There was a challenge in her voice.

“Your aunt?”

“Out for the evening.”

“Garrett?”

“He’s around, but he won’t bother us downstairs.”

I wasn’t a fool. I’d wondered if Gabrielle wanted the publicity about us to become real. She’d said that she hadn’t put the publicist up to it, and I believed her. But maybe she’d decided she wanted to pursue the idea. What I didn’t know was if Gabrielle liked me—Mark Lewis—or if she liked having a boyfriend to show off now that Korry Sim had conspicuously moved on.

I kept my expression easy. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Everyone thinks we’re a couple. We should talk about that.”

Not
everyone
. My family didn’t.
I
didn’t. “I’ve only been single for eleven days.”

“I know, but I’ve been watching you for a while. It’s been hard not to notice how uncomfortable Susanna had become. She didn’t want the same things you did. It was just a matter of time before one of you gave up.”

“What the hell?” I turned my back on Gabrielle, angry and hurting and…

She was wrong. Susanna and I hadn’t been headed for a breakup. That had come out of nowhere.

Wait. I wasn’t having this conversation with Gabrielle or anybody else. If she didn’t shut up about it in a hurry, I was out of here.

Her hand touched lightly on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I won’t mention her again.”

“Good choice.”

Her fingers trailed down my arm to clasp my hand. “Look, we’re going to be hanging out anyway. Why not let people assume we’re together? It’s not like I’m expecting a normal dating relationship. You’re leaving for college. I have a film lined up this summer. I don’t want a long-term boyfriend.” She moved to stand in front of me, studying my face earnestly. “That’s why you and I make sense as a couple. No one needs to know exactly what we mean to each other. We can go to prom together. Continue hanging out with Jesse and Benita. The premiere for
Flight Risk
is Memorial Day weekend. You could be my date to that.”

“I’m not over Susanna.”

“I’m not completely over Korry.” Gabrielle smiled at me tentatively. “My PR team loves that photo from the Kennedy Center. You’re hot and have this whole ‘sexy hero’ thing going.”

My face heated up with embarrassment. “Glad I could please your PR team.”

“Mark, don’t be mad. It’s not like that. We’re friends. We have fun together. It has to be clear that you’re the only guy at Neuse that I want to spend time with besides Jesse, and he’s taken. If it makes my publicist happy, that’ll get her off my back.”

If I said no, how would it affect our group? Would the four of us have to end?

I couldn’t face any more change right now. I wanted things to stay the same so that I could get through the rest of the year. “What if all I want is to continue the way we are?”