Fallam's Secret

by Denise Giardina

  It seemed the entire congregation turned to stare at Lydde and Uncle John.

  “You all know the reputation of John Soane, who has brought God’s healing to you and your kin in times of sickness and adversity. You know his kindness and good service. You can understand why two young orphans, two cousins, would seek him out in time of need. You will therefore not be surprised that Satan would seek to destroy such a good and decent man. And what better way than to pursue these pure, innocent ones who sought his aid, themselves among the elect—for yes, I have examined them closely and they stand fast in the face of attacks by the Devil—what better way to attack God’s servant John Soane than through these little ones? But Satan’s plan has failed, as it must.”

  Here Noah paused to cast a benevolent gaze on Uncle John and Lydde. A murmur of sympathy rose from the congregation.

  “Brilliant,” Uncle John whispered.

  “While St. Pancras is closed,” Noah said, “I can think of no better guardian than John Soane. I therefore decree that none shall approach St. Pancras, not even to set foot in its churchyard, save for Mr. Soane.” Noah pointed at Uncle John. “He shall be the caretaker of St. Pancras while I undertake to study that building overwhelmed by demons, in order to learn how Satan works his wiles. Thus we shall between us hope to prevent further attacks. John Soane I trust to withstand the temptations of the Devil while performing this service. Any other caught at St. Pancras shall be thrown into Norchester jail.

  “Further, I am greatly concerned for the safety of the boy Lewis Soane and the girl Mary Soane. They are being targeted by Satan, who would have them blamed for his own misdeeds, and therefore they are deserving of protection. So I will take them into my custody. They shall live with me until this danger has passed, protected by my constables and by my own position as God’s representative in Norchester. All the might of the Commonwealth, of the Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell, of Major-General Elisha Sitwell, and of my own vigilance shall ensure that their souls remain undefiled.”

  Noah went on to preach at length on the myriad ways Satan attacks the faithful. When he finished at last, the congregation filed out, talking loudly, and most of those present sought Lydde out to shake her hand, or wish her good health, or clap Uncle John on the shoulder and offer prayers for his safety as he undertook his perilous responsibility. But Jacob Woodcock rushed past them to confront Noah when he came out of the church.

  “Take care, Pastor Fallam,” he cried, “lest you be yourself fooled by the Devil! For the doctor belongs to St. Pancras and if their worship has been unlawful, he has been a part of it!”

  Noah glanced at Uncle John, then leaned toward Woodcock and said in a low, conspiratorial voice, “And how do you think, Master Woodcock, I have been so well informed about the transgressions of St. Pancras?”

  Woodcock sputtered a moment, not knowing how to answer. He finally contented himself by muttering, “You were not present when the boy entered Norchester and did not see him as some of us did.”

  “I have his odd clothing in my possession,” Noah answered coldly, “and I do see the boy now. Never fear, Jacob, I shall keep an eye on him. If I find any fault in him, it shall be addressed.”

  Then he turned away in clear dismissal of Jacob Woodcock, and said to Uncle John, “Bring the boy to me this evening.”

  IT didn’t take long to gather up Lydde’s few belongings. Everything went into a basket—the green dress and rose wrapper with Aunt Lavinia’s present in the bottom, topped by Lydde’s single change of boy’s clothes, her three pairs of stockings and boy’s undershirts. She had nothing of her own, really, and the realization caused her to sit on the edge of the bed a moment and fight off a surge of panic. There Uncle John found her a few moments later, her knees drawn up to her chin, eyes shut.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She opened her eyes. “Uncle John. What on earth am I doing?”

  He sat beside her and took her hand. “You don’t have to, you know. We can walk to St. Pancras instead and leave. You can have your old life back.”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t do that to him. Or to myself, because I couldn’t bear to be back home knowing he was dead.”

  “We could try to talk Noah into going with us.”

  “He wouldn’t just leave what he’s doing here. And he’d be so much older if he did. How could you ask anyone to skip the prime of their life?”

  “You could stay longer, but not marry him.”

  “What is this, a buffet? I get to pick and choose?”

  “I’m just reminding you of your options. There are always options.”

  She turned and clutched his arm. “What do you really think of him?”

  “Does it matter what I think of him?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think he’s a good man. I think he’s a dangerous man.”

  “Dangerous? But not to me, surely.”

  “To your happiness. Of course he would never harm you. Just the opposite. But it’s hard enough, Lydde, to marry. Harder still for someone who has been independent as long as you have.”

  “It’s not just that,” she said. “He’s a hard man. He’s endured things I can’t imagine, and for all I know he may be capable of things I couldn’t abide.”

  He squeezed her hand and gave her a wry smile. “To my knowledge, marrying a man from the past hasn’t been done before. And you would choose a man who is likely to be caught and executed.”

  “But he won’t be, will he? His body lies in the New River Gorge. Horrible as that is to think about, it gives me hope right now. He’ll escape to America and live for years, won’t he?”

  Uncle John put his arm around her. “Lydde, I was afraid you were counting on that. You can’t. I just don’t know yet what is going on. Are we in the past, or are we in a parallel universe?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Remember when I tried to explain wormholes to you? The Mary you met here isn’t your sister Mary who disappeared in your time and place. I don’t know yet what that means. The Greeks, like Plato, believed in the Eternal Recurrence. People coming back over and over, kind of like reincarnation except in the same body, not a different one. Is that what happens? Is the Mary who disappeared in a fire a recurrence of this Mary? Or are we in a parallel universe with parallel Marys, but with different fates?”

  “You’re saying the Noah I love here may not be the Noah who goes to America and dies along the New River? You’re saying it’s just as possible he could be caught and killed here because this is a parallel universe but with different outcomes?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. And there’s no way to know except to see what happens.”

  “Oh, God,” she whispered.

  “Lydde, there are some things that don’t change about life, as far as I can tell. There may be some sort of plan or connection, but we still don’t know when we’re going to die, or how. Going backward or forward in time doesn’t change that. Our ultimate fate remains hidden from us.”

  “I can’t bear to think of them catching him.”

  “It may happen. And if you can’t face it, you should go back to West Virginia now, before you become more attached to him.”

  “I already love him too much,” she said. “I couldn’t abandon him.”

  “Then that’s the way it is. Lavinia and I talked about it. You’re our daughter. And we’ll be proud to have Noah Fallam for a son.”

  THEY entered the cathedral precinct in the growing dusk, passing through the medieval gate and along the cobbled alley that had changed hardly at all over the centuries. The cathedral loomed in shadow on their right, and straight ahead the Bishop’s Palace glowed with candlelight in several windows.

  They stopped before the heavy oak door and Uncle John pounded with his fist. The door opened at once and a smiling Simon Cleyes ushered them in.

  “Come in, come in! Noah is just—”

  “Here,” called Noah as he clattered down the stairs. He was wearin
g a stiff black coat and his collar-length brown hair was neatly combed and tucked behind his ears. He kissed Lydde on the forehead, pumped Uncle John’s hand. “All the servants live off the premises and are dismissed on the Sabbath, so we are alone and”—he grasped Lydde’s hand—“free.”

  She took the basket from Uncle John. “I would like to change clothes. I want to marry you in a dress.”

  “Let me show you upstairs. Simon, offer John some sherry.”

  Noah held a candle high and led her up the stairs, fingers twined with hers, his face so radiant with joy it nearly broke her heart. At the top of the stairs he drew her to him and kissed her. Then he led her along the hall while pointing out rooms.

  “This is Simon’s room, and this shall be Mary’s. At that far corner is the library, and I have a goodly collection of books which I hope you will enjoy. It is a pleasant room, and when you are here during the day, that is where you will be most comfortable. Here”—he pushed open a door to reveal a blazing fire and a canopied bed—“is my bedchamber. Yours, at night. But you must put your things in the room next to it and pretend that is yours. You must roll in the bed regularly so Nan the chambermaid will think it slept in.”

  “I understand,” she said. They went to that room, smaller and cold, for no fire had been laid. She dropped the basket on the bed and suddenly found it hard to look at him.

  “Lydde,” he said. “Are you having doubts?”

  “Doubts? Why do you ask?”

  “Something in your face.” He held the candle close and laid the back of his hand against her cheek.

  “Some people think if you have doubts about something, you shouldn’t do it,” she said.

  “I believe it is human to have doubts,” he replied.

  She turned her head slightly and brushed his fingers with her lips. “I have been thinking of reasons not to marry you,” she said. “None of them is good enough. Still, I am afraid.”

  “So am I,” he said. “And yet I am so very happy.”

  She rested her head against his chest a moment. Then she stepped away and said, “I’ll be down soon.”

  He smiled and set the candle on the table beside the bed before leaving.

  THE men waited in Noah’s office in nervous silence. Then Uncle John said, “Noah, there’s something I’ve been worrying about, and I must ask you by way of a warning. Would you ever hit Lydde?”

  Noah looked surprised. “Why,” he said, “I doubt that will be necessary.”

  “I was afraid you’d put it that way,” Uncle John said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Let me explain it like this. From your point of view, what is the worst thing a wife here could do to her husband?”

  “To be unfaithful,” Noah replied.

  “And that’s something you don’t have to worry about,” Uncle John said. “Lydde is loyal as the day is long. Well, where we come from the worst thing a husband can do to a wife is hit her. We don’t look on it the way you do here. Back there, it’s against the law, first of all. And women like Lydde won’t put up with a man hitting them. They’ll leave and never come back. So, for God’s sake, even if it does become ‘necessary’ in your eyes, don’t ever raise a hand to her. Even though it may be acceptable here. It would do to her what unfaithfulness would do to you.”

  Noah had been listening carefully. He inclined his head. “I understand,” he said. “Thank you.”

  Uncle John held out his hand and Noah grasped it. “Just love her, son. It will work out.”

  LYDDE changed clothes, then realized she had no women’s shoes. There was nothing for it but to put on her boy’s stockings and boots. Back downstairs, she found the men standing before the hearth in Noah’s office, sipping from small glasses of sherry. Noah held out his hand.

  “And where has my boy gone?” he asked.

  “Fled,” she replied, “but he has left his feet behind.” She held up one booted foot.

  They laughed.

  “I need some warm slippers, like Mary’s,” she said.

  “I shall see to it tomorrow,” said Simon Cleyes. “You do make a handsome woman despite your feet.” He was looking at her admiringly, and she caught a glimpse of his own longing.

  Noah handed her a glass of sherry, and Uncle John proposed a toast to the couple soon to be wed. They clinked glasses, Noah and Lydde exchanging glances as they sipped. Noah leaned forward and whispered, “Doubts?”

  “Forgotten,” she whispered back.

  “Shall we perform the ceremony first?” asked Uncle John. “And then eat supper?”

  “Indeed,” Noah said. “I would dine with my wife tonight.”

  Uncle John set down his glass and reached into his coat pocket. “I have brought this, though I know it is against the law. Do you object? I don’t know what else to use.”

  He held up the Book of Common Prayer.

  “Why not?” Noah said. “It is a lovely wedding service.”

  “Only don’t tell Jacob Woodcock,” Simon said.

  “Woodcock,” Noah scoffed. “If I had not turned from the Puritans on my own, he would have turned me.”

  Lydde took Noah’s arm. “If we can use the prayer book, then may I make another unlawful request? May we be married in the cathedral?”

  Noah looked at Simon, then shrugged. “Why not?” he said. “It seems I do nothing these days that is lawful. The cathedral it is.”

  They carried lanterns with them and crossed the courtyard to the cathedral’s massive door. Simon fumbled with the huge key but soon it turned in the lock and he pulled the heavy oak door open with a creak. Inside, they walked slowly, their boots ringing on the cold stone. The air was heavy, with a musty but slightly sweet smell, as though centuries of incense still infused the air. Uncle John was looking down. Then he stopped.

  “Of course!” he cried, so loud his voice bounced along the vault. The others started. Uncle John pointed down. “The labyrinth! It’s a Cretan pattern instead of Chartres, and its dimensions are different from the one I’ve been working with. I saw this one when I visited Lydde in Norchester in the twenty-first century, but I didn’t remember it exactly. That’s why my calculations have been off. I should have been using this one!”

  He looked around. Noah and Simon were staring at him as though he were raving, and even Lydde looked confused. He waved his hand. “It’s a long explanation and it involves mathematics. But I’m looking for other wormholes back home and I’m plotting on the geometrical form of a labyrinth. This may make a huge difference. Could I come back here sometime in daylight and copy this one?”

  “As you will,” Noah said. “Simon will see to it.”

  Simon nodded, though he looked doubtful. Noah laughed and clapped him on the back. “Never fear, Simon. I have been through the wormhole myself. It is a great mystery, but it is not madness nor witchcraft.”

  They continued on, while shadows danced across the vaulted ceiling above their passing lanterns. On either side, effigies with folded hands lay atop tombs like recumbent witnesses who might rise at any moment and pronounce a blessing. They traversed the cathedral’s length, climbing higher and higher as they passed through the choir and approached the altar. There they halted. Uncle John opened the prayer book, while Simon held the lantern so he could see. Lydde and Noah stood close together, holding hands. Uncle John studied their faces, so luminous and full of hope in the lantern light, and for a moment was unable to speak.

  Then he read, “Noah, will you have this woman as your wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep you only unto her, so long as you both shall live?”

  “I will,” Noah answered.

  Lydde repeated the second vow while smiling up at Noah.

  “I, Lydde, take you, Noah, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness a
nd in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part.”

  Uncle John turned to Simon, who dug into his pocket and placed a gold ring on the pages of the open prayer book.

  “Noah!” Lydde said. Her eyes filled with tears.

  He smiled. “It was a difficult purchase to explain,” he said. “But I was determined you should have it.”

  He picked up the ring, held up her left hand, and slid it onto her finger. Then, with his hand over hers, he said, “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship…” Here he paused, teased the palm of her hand with a fingertip, and gave her such a look that Uncle John cleared his throat. “And with all my worldly goods I thee endow.”

  Uncle John placed his hand over theirs. “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. I pronounce that you be man and wife together, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

  They stood a moment in absolute silence as though unable to believe what they had just done. Then Uncle John said softly, “Son, where we come from, you’re supposed to kiss her now.”

  Noah kissed her gently. Then Uncle John and Simon were clapping them on the back, exchanging handshakes and laughing. Lydde held up her hand. The ring glinted in the lantern light.

  “You’ll have to take it off after tonight,” Noah said.

  “I shall sew it to the inside of my breeches pocket,” Lydde said, “and then I can slip my finger into it whenever I want.”

  Back at the Bishop’s Palace, they dined on slices of cold mutton pie left by the cook on Saturday. Then Simon stood and said, “I shall escort the good doctor to Soane’s Croft and spend the night. It shall be easier to fetch Mary from there. Can you two manage?”

  THEY carried armloads of firewood upstairs and piled it beside the hearth in Noah’s room. The fire had dwindled, but they soon had it blazing again. Noah pulled the curtains around the bed so that only the side exposed to the hearth was open.

  “Now,” he said, “you shall be warm as can be.”

  Lydde stood near the hearth and raised her hand to the firelight. She had felt, when he slipped the ring onto her finger, the same thrill as when he first entered her—to be cherished, to be possessed.