Whispers from the Past (32 page)

“It might. I have not seen William so enchanted with a young lady since…” Mrs. Eton stopped abruptly and looked my way.

I met her glance briefly. She had not approved of William’s affection for my sister Phoebe. The distance between the upper class and the laboring class had been too far to bridge. Mrs. Eton did not feel the same way about Dorcas, who came from one of the leading families in Worthville. I understood the difference.

I much preferred the twenty-first century’s attitude toward whom a person could love.

Mrs. Eton continued. “William has been so full of grief since the fire that I worried he might never know happiness again. I do hope he will resolve his true feelings quickly, for he must resume his practice in Edenton by the end of May.”

“Abigail,” my mistress said, “perhaps something can be done to extend Miss Pratt’s stay.”

“I do not think it likely. I understand that her brother chafes at the responsibility of caring for her. It cannot be easy. The home of his wife’s parents is quite small. I worry that young Mr. Pratt might return her to her village tomorrow.”

I stiffened with dread. It was too soon.

“Why, she would be most welcome to stay with me. I have rooms to spare.”

“A generous offer. I suspect she would accept. You should send the invitation this morning.” Mrs. Eton smiled serenely. Her gaze met mine, only this time there was something warm and excited flickering in their depths.

Were Mrs. Eton and her sister playing matchmaker? If so, might I help them along?

I stirred on my seat and tried to catch Mrs. Whitcomb’s eye. It was irritating that I could not speak freely, even as a companion.

“Cornelia, shall we ask Mrs. Lewis her opinion?”

My mistress smiled at me. “Yes, please. Mrs. Lewis, do you think Miss Pratt would like it here?”

“She would, ma’am.” I had the opening I needed. “Her eighteenth birthday is Monday.”

I did not have to wait long for the desired response.

“We must celebrate.” My mistress turned to her sister with a happy sigh. “We shall ask Miss Pratt to join us immediately. If we begin our preparations this afternoon, we can manage a lovely party by Monday.”

“I agree.” Mrs. Eton rose and brushed at her skirts. “I must go and let William know of your kind offer.”

“Excellent.” My mistress already wore a faraway look. She had become lost in her own mind—drifting into a place that only she inhabited. No doubt the party she imagined would be glorious when she turned it into reality.

I stayed in my spot, knowing that my duties would increase dramatically once Mrs. Whitcomb had emerged from her spell. I was ecstatic at this turn of events. The news that William had completed the examination of Dorcas had given me pause, filling me with fear that Mr. Pratt might insist upon her return. Yet not even he would attempt to ruin her birthday celebration, hosted by the Etons.

There were six days between Dorcas’s birthday and the likely date of the tornado. After the storm, Mr. Pratt would be too consumed by its effects to expend energy on his frustrations with Dorcas. Perhaps in the time it took for the world to right itself, I would have a new plan for protecting her from her father.

Now I only had to think of a reason to keep her in Raleigh for an extra week.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-E
IGHT

H
ARSH
B
UT
T
RUE

I’d paid a visit to the Archives on Tuesday afternoon, and as I’d suspected, Susanna’s case was on the docket in April 1805. Her last name, though, made me blink in surprise. Susanna
Lewis
.

When I’d read that she’d won the case, I’d closed my eyes and savored the news. She was not in Jethro Pratt’s clutches. However, the faded notes scratched into the proceedings weren’t clear about what happened to her. So, even though I didn’t know where Susanna had ended up, at least it wasn’t with Pratt.

Now that my trip to the past had been moved up by two weeks, there were only a few days left to finish my preparations. Once I arrived home from the Archives, I rode up to the construction site for a quick look. It was still a mess. Fortunately, the change to the creek wasn’t likely to happen early.

Next, I considered what I would need to take with me. I might need nineteenth-century money on this visit and didn’t have a clue what to do about it. Would have to research that one.

No bike this time. I wouldn’t risk the damage again. Plus, leaving it behind in Worthville could change history. Since I’d be walking everywhere, I’d need the best shoes possible that could also double as the ugly boots they wore. That might take some work to find.

My clothes had to be updated. Probably. I had to look as rich as possible, which meant I would have to pay another visit to the costume shop.

I headed straight for my truck after school on Wednesday. Benita, Jesse, and Gabrielle were waiting for me.

“Is something wrong?” I asked as I opened the door and threw my backpack onto the passenger seat.

“We’re meeting at the Grill,” Benita said, “to make plans for the weekend.”

“Sorry. Can’t make it today.” I hesitated, wanting to climb in and leave, but they didn’t take the hint. “I have some errands to run.”

“No problem. I can handle two girls at once,” Jesse said with a shrug. “But you’re coming with us to New Bern on Saturday, right?”

“New Bern?” My brain felt scrambled, like I could hardly keep my thoughts together.

“Benita’s solo with the North Carolina Philharmonic?”

I looked at Benita apologetically. My new mission had wiped out everything else. “I’ll have to miss it.”

She nodded, a slight tremble to her lips. “Sure. That’s okay.”

“Really, I’m sorry.” I was taken aback at how upset she looked. It was the first time we had all agreed to show up at a live concert. Still, I would’ve expected that last-minute disappointments happened all the time. “Something’s come up, and I can’t—”

“What came up?” Gabrielle’s gentle smile didn’t quite match her voice.

“Something I can’t reschedule.”

“Does it have to do with Susanna?”

My jaw tightened. “Yeah.”

Benita reached for me, her long, strong fingers snapping around my wrist. “How is Susanna? Have you heard from her?”

I shifted my attention to Benita. “We’ve heard nothing more.”

She pulled me into a hug, her cheek pressed to mine. “I don’t mind, if she’s the reason,” Benita whispered. “Just do the right thing.”

I nodded my acknowledgment. I
was
doing the right thing.

She crept back and then slid up to Jesse, dropping an arm across his shoulders.

“I’ll get to one of your concerts, Benita,” I said. “Promise.” I climbed into the cab of my truck and reached for the door.

Gabrielle blocked it. She leaned in, her hands gripping my thigh. “If you haven’t heard from her, what are you doing that can’t be rescheduled?”

“I can’t get into this with you now.”

“Are you going to tell me anything?”

I started the engine. “Eventually.” I sounded like such a jerk, but I didn’t have the time to get into it more.

“We’ll talk later.”

“I’m sure we will.”

I drove the truck to Sash and Dash, a costume store I’d used before. The same old woman rose from her beanbag chair, with the same curly gray hair, ear piercings, and goth makeup. But she’d traded the gauzy skirt for leggings. Not a good decision.

She frowned at me. “How can I help you?”

“I’m going to a Jane Austen party.”

She scanned me from head to toe. “The Regency Period?”

“Close enough. American Federal. Do you have anything that’ll work?”

“Can we still channel Fitzwilliam Darcy?”

“Sure.”

“Are you desperate?”

“Absolutely.”

“Lucky for you that I’m not in the mood for price-gouging.” She gestured toward a rack behind me. “I have four coats to choose from. Do you need trousers?”

“I already have breeches.”

“Yeah, that’ll date you. Trousers and boots are good if you want the upper-crust look.”

“Wealthy is what I’m aiming for.”

“Alright, Darcy.” She pulled out a coat of navy wool. “Here’s the best of the bunch.”

It mostly fit. A little high on the wrists, but it would do. And, if the gods were with me, it would still be cool in 1805 and the wool wouldn’t be a problem. “I’ll take it.”

“How ‘bout these?” She held up a pair of light-brown trousers that reminded me vaguely of khakis. They had a flap at the top which buttoned on both sides. That was enough different from a zipper that I thought I’d better go with it.

I held them up against my body. “They’re a little long.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to help with that.”

“The thought never crossed my mind.”

“Good. Boots?”

“No. Don’t think I can hack that.”

“You can find something reasonable at any discount shoe store. Do you need a hat?” She pointed to a rack of hats that were…tall.

“Is it necessary?”

“If you want to be a gentleman.”

“The shortest one possible.”

“Here you go.” She scratched her chin. “That shirt you got last time you were here should still work.”

I blinked at her. She remembered. “So what do I owe you?”

“Fifty bucks.”

“Which isn’t price-gouging.”

“Nope.” She grinned. “You get what you pay for.”

“Right.” I followed her to the cash register. “You know a lot about historical fashion.”

“Uh-huh.” She held out her hand for the cash, wiggling her fingers.

I handed it over. “So why do you work here instead of—?”

“Film industry? Backstage?”

“Yeah.”

She let out a hoot of laughter as she shooed me out the door. “I am a lazy wench. That other stuff is too much like a real job.”

The doorbell rang. I didn’t want to answer, but I was the only one home.

Gabrielle fidgeted on the veranda, arms crossed. Silently, I opened the door wider so that she could step in.

She paced around the foyer, arms wrapped about her waist. I closed the door and leaned against it, waiting for her to start the conversation.

With a sharp turn, she spun to face me as she whipped off her shades. Her eyes were shiny with tears. “I know what the errand is. You’re planning to search for her.”

“Yeah.”

She sucked in a long, deep breath. “She’s gone back to that cult.”

I nodded.

“Do you know where they are? I thought they were far away from here by now.”

“They are, but I have a vague idea of where they might be.”

“How long will you be gone?”

I shrugged.

Her lips pinched. “So you could be gone for days?”

“Could be.”

“Your parents won’t let you.”

“Unless they intend to chain me to this house, there isn’t much they can do.”

“Stop it, Mark. Don’t go.” She raked her hand through the tangled hair that wisped about her face. “She knew what she was doing.”

“Agreed.”

“She’s rejected you. Twice.”

Score. “Don’t go there, Gabrielle. It’s not your business.”

She gasped. “
You
are my business.”

I hated this, but I couldn’t feel pissed at her. She was just trying to protect what was hers. The problem was—I really wasn’t hers. I never had been. “I know you want me to drop this, but I won’t. I can’t.”

“We’re a couple. We have to talk about it.”

I just stared at her. She could talk all she wanted, and it wouldn’t change the outcome one bit.

She turned away from me, her shoulders shaking. She was silent for a long time. I didn’t know what to do. Hold her? Leave her alone to figure this out for herself?

I took the safe route. The coward’s route. I stayed where I was.

“What do I mean to you?” She spoke in a whisper.

I didn’t like the question, but I owed Gabrielle an answer. “You’re the girl I go out with. You’re gorgeous and fun, and I love being with you.”

She swung around. “Yet there’s a part of you that she owns.”

Harsh but true. “Yes.”

She shook her head. “Why do I pick guys who can’t love only me?”

Korry wanted too many women. I wanted one—only and ever. It didn’t make sense, because Gabrielle was amazing.