Reminiscence (Statera Saga Book 1)

by Amy Marie

  “Classes during the week will hinder you from staying in my office during the day as you have been the past few days. Today I feigned a meeting, but the rest of the week I’m afraid you’ll need to remain down here,” Uncle Mike says to Darcy.

  Down here?

  My mind reels at what Uncle Mike just implied.

  “We’re underground below Andover Hall?” I ask in amazement.

  Uncle Mike shrugs at his slip, assuming I would find out eventually. “Yes, my dear. This sanctuary was built long ago with the original construction of the building. Darcy oversaw the plans.”

  I turn to Darcy with my mouth hanging open in awe. “So, the seminary that sheltered you was the seminary affiliated with Harvard? How many people here know about you?”

  Before he can answer, I turn to Uncle Mike with a new inspiration. “The printer’s mark! Is there really a secret society to search for the Statera and protect all this?” I gesture my arms in an encompassing manner.

  Darcy answers for them both.

  “There is no secret society. But there is a group of people that we have trusted with this secret if they have the right potential. Over the years, the information has been passed down, and I have overseen it all dating back to when it was just the three of us trying to interpret the Statera,” he gestures to me. I can only assume he’s referring to himself, Gabriel, and the neighbor girl, Eleanor.

  There are others. I’m interested to find out who is involved, but decide it’s best to wait to ask. They might not tell me until I work through everything I’ve already been told. I sit back in my seat to digest everything.

  “I am sorry you are overwhelmed,” says Darcy with a quick dip of his head. “But you do not have any idea how long I have waited for this opportunity. I was not even sure if it would happen, but part of me always held on to the possibility and hope.”

  “It’s an exhilarating breakthrough,” Uncle Mike says, giving a hearty laugh and slapping his leg. He stands up, “I must be going. It’s late, and my houseguest might worry,” he says, referring to Char.

  We stand to say our goodbyes. As I hug Uncle Mike, he whispers, “Get some rest, my dear, it’s been a long night for you. And don’t forget to try and be open to the reminiscence.”

  I nod in response and after he shakes hands with Darcy, he takes his leave.

  Following him out, I linger just long enough to see him push on a false wall next to a cupboard to utilize the exit.

  A hidden door!

  Turning back into the great room, Darcy’s eyes fix on me. My eyes drop to the ground. I feel like I got caught cheating on a test or something.

  “You know where the exit is now, and you are free to go if you cannot tolerate my company in exchange for protection.”

  Refusing to feel bad, I hold my head high to respond, “I told you I would stay. So, I’m staying.”

  He leans forward placing his elbows on his knees. With a direct gaze, he asks, “You do not mind that I will be occupying the second room?”

  “As long as there’s no secret passage.” I roll my eyes.

  Meaning this as a joke, I’m stunned to see him turn red at the comment.

  “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  He’s had access to me this whole time. I feel violated. I don’t bother to hide my natural reaction to this.

  “I have not used it. It is a safety precaution. This place is full of them.” He assures me in response. “Elean… Nora,” he says, slowly correcting himself. “If we will be working together, you must trust me. If you require sanctuary at any time, even from me, I will respect your privacy. I promise you that.”

  My nod is enough to accept his offered promise.

  “Am I free to go during the day? Uncle Mike told me I would be safe from Talbot.”

  “As long as you keep up the pretense at school and to your work and family just for this week, I would like you to be free to do whatever you please. I will be here at your convenience, as you will remember I cannot leave during the daylight hours.”

  “Thank you, and yes, I’ll remember,” I say.

  Looking at him, I wonder for the first time what he must feel when he sees me if I look so much like the woman he loved. My cheeks immediately flame and I turn away, knowing how easily my face can be read.

  “I think I’ll go to bed now. Good night,” I nod and excuse myself.

  Beginning towards my designated room, Darcy stops me by grabbing my hand. With a turn back in his direction, he raises my hand to his lips and brushes my knuckles against them, mindful of the minor bruising left over from my accident.

  “Sweet dreams, Eleanor,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

  Snatching my hand away and still red with embarrassment, I try desperately to ignore the burning sensation that’s foreign to me.

  “It’s Nora,” is my curt response. Turning, I hastily retreat to my room and slam the door.

  His soft laughter carries through from the other side.

  Chapter 16

  Birds sing to the rhythm of the flowing water.

  Glancing up from my book at the picturesque landscape, I bask in the sunlight at my favorite spot on the riverbank.

  Wondering what brought me here, I stand up and notice that I’m hindered by a voluminous petticoat and skirt.

  Dreaming again.

  At least I’m getting better at recognizing it.

  Looking around, the desire builds to cross the stones and explore the other side where I first saw Darcy. Here in my dream, I remember that this river borders my fath–no, Eleanor’s father’s land.

  My slippered feet hop from stone to stone, hampered by my attire as I attempt to hold up my skirts and cross the path of stones. About halfway through, I look up and spot Darcy staring at my progress from the opposite bank with an amused look on his face.

  I ought to be embarrassed by how much of my legs are showing since he is obviously looking. But irritation begins to outweigh any embarrassment when I glimpse the smirk on his face.

  “Would you care for some assistance, my lady?” he asks with an exaggerated bow.

  I attempt to reply, but realization dawns that this is the replay of a memory, and I have no control.

  Seconds later, I hear myself respond, “Mr. Hughes, I do realize that my dearest friend, Gabriel, has given in to his soft-hearted tendencies to take in stray pets when he brought you here to live. But that does not give you the right to ogle me like a wild animal.”

  Laughter fills my head internally at the wit of my kindred spirit, and the look on Darcy’s face.

  How long after the two of them met did this memory take place? There’s an obvious lack of fondness. Yet, gauging Darcy’s reaction, I see a challenge more than anger or disdain in his manner.

  “Ms. Hutchinson, perhaps you have offended me in your unladylike display? Most gentle women of your stature would certainly not lift their skirts so easily in the presence of a man. Or perhaps you were looking to lure in and trap a wild animal under there?” He flashes a roguish smile.

  In reaction to his offense, I drop my skirts in a huff. I’m just about to give him a piece of my mind when my foot catches on the petticoat, and I lose my footing on the mossy stone.

  Everything seems to happen in slow motion as I comically see his face turn from ridicule, to surprise, to concern, when my balance is lost and I plunge into the river.

  “Eleanor!” The last thing I hear before the whooshing dunk of water is Darcy’s fearful voice, calling my name.

  Beneath the surface, I struggle with the layers and layers of fabric from my dress that are weighing me down to the point of sinking. I kick with all my might to make progress toward the light of the surface. But despite my best efforts, I can’t seem to break through.

  Suddenly in my mind’s eye, I recall my similar drowning dream. I hope that my flailing limbs will avoid the crushing grasp that I fear may come.

  Sure enough, arms embrace me from behind. My thrashing continues and naturally fights o
ff the hold.

  Taking a new turn, my would-be captor lets go this time. There’s pulling on my skirt, and a great weight lifts off.

  The uplifting weightlessness is such a shock, that I don’t fight this time when I’m again embraced. Instead of being pulled down, my body gets hauled upward.

  We break the surface, and I gasp for much needed air. I wipe the water from my eyes and find myself in Darcy’s arms. I thankfully hold on to him as we move to the riverbank.

  My skirt and petticoat have been torn away, and I’m left soaked in my shift, stays, and stockings, as I crawl out of the water. Feelings of embarrassment carry over from the memory to my own instincts as I modestly try to cover up.

  Sitting on the bank together, Darcy anticipates my embarrassment as he removes his jacket to lay it over my lower half. All sarcasm has been wiped from his demeanor and replaced with genuine kindness, as he looks me over and expresses his concern for my welfare.

  My earlier annoyances melt away with his tender actions.

  Perhaps this memory is the moment that things changed for this Eleanor and Darcy?

  Looking into his hazel eyes, the charge of energy that I’ve been unable to rationalize jolts me from my dream and into the darkness of my subconscious.

  Slowly waking in the curtained bed, frustration washes over me.

  My emotions were so caught up in the dream that I forgot it was a memory several times throughout.

  My feelings were in line with what was happening so much, that it was almost like I was controlling the memory at times. Though I know I was only replaying what happened, and just simply got caught up.

  Or was I?

  I come to terms with the fact that I need to open up to Darcy if I am ever going to distinguish what may or may not be true in my mind, and what really happened in the past.

  It’s also important for me to reinforce the difference between the Eleanor of the past and myself, especially for Darcy’s sake. But as strong as my emotions have been taking hold in my dreams and carrying over when I wake, I wonder in the back of my mind how much the distinction may need to be done for my own sake.

  The next day, I decide to take advantage of the opportunity to get out of the sanctuary. The first thing I want to do is explore the directions that Uncle Mike had provided to search the old Grafton property.

  After sending some emails to check in with my family, I borrow Uncle Mike’s car and drive to the area that used to be Gabriel’s home, according to the directions.

  Driving along, several beautiful brick riverside buildings that line the side of the road catch my eye. They appear to have been functionally restored into trendy apartments. The area is not far from my own apartment, and has somewhat of a traditional charm. The air is rich with history, and I get one of those familiar chills.

  A few minutes later, my route leads me to an abandoned piece of property. I park on the side of the road and look around in caution before getting out of the car. Everything in the area appears deserted. Getting out to explore with pepper spray in hand, I wander through a rundown wooded area. An overgrown path leads to a smaller, gloomy clearing back in the woods.

  A bell rings in my head with familiarity.

  The reminiscence!

  Something in the back of my mind tells me that I know this place, but it has changed from the images flashing in my head. My mind’s eye gives me views of a more richly wooded area where a cozy cabin should stand. The desolate landscape that’s left in the present seems to harbor a resonating sadness from the past, and a strong feeling of distress deep within me.

  A vision of Gabriel flashes in my mind, and I immediately understand that this is where he must have been pursued by Talbot and died, right on his own property. Everything that was left behind was destroyed in gunpowder, explosion, and fire.

  Confused by my own feelings of deep loss, I do my best to repress the emotions and try to distract myself with further exploration.

  I walk down to the river and follow the edge to a small rounded clearing that leads to a path of stones. My eyes follow the path to the other side, and I realize that I’m standing right where Darcy was when I first met him, across the river from the park by my apartment. The park area that I had been drawn to was part of Eleanor’s family’s property in her time.

  Understanding the reasons for my reminiscence, I begin to make my way back to Uncle Mike’s car when I’m struck with the sudden inspiration to take some photos and videos of the river area to have on hand and help jog my memory.

  Thankful to have acquired my phone back from Uncle Mike, I make my way around the area documenting every angle around the river that I recognize. With the sun shining bright in the sky, the scene is breathtaking.

  My head leans back and I close my eyes in the light, as an odd feeling of comfort surrounds me. Images in my head of a young boy and girl playing on the stones and riverbank on a bright sunny day bring Gabriel back to mind. I now understand why this spot resonates as a happy place to me.

  I never had a brother, but as close as I feel to Char as a sister, it helps me appreciate the deep feelings of affection that Eleanor’s memories hold for Gabriel. Picturing him in my mind and seeing him come to life in my dreaming memories, I feel a connection to the young man who met such a tragic end.

  My thoughts drift to the connection between Gabriel and Darcy. There must have been a similar sense of affection between them. It seems like a good subject to connect with Darcy on.

  I’m filled with a new curiosity to unravel the mysteries of the past. Reminiscing of Gabriel can ease us into it together.

  When I’m satisfied with everything, I get back to the car and make my way back to Cambridge, mentally preparing for the evening ahead with Darcy.

  Chapter 17

  Back at campus, I walk into Andover Hall and immediately duck around a corner in reaction to Rafe’s voice echoing down the hall. From Uncle Mike’s excuses, I’m supposed to be out of town, so I have to avoid him.

  Uncle Mike has explained that while Rafe seems to know more than most people regarding the Statera, he so far has not been introduced to the secrets held below in the sanctuary.

  At my urging, he promised me to bring the young scholar into the loop when the timing was right, reasoning that he’ll be safer in the meantime. As much as I would love to share with Rafe the strange events that have taken place since the last time we spoke, my fear for his safety convinces me to listen to Uncle Mike.

  “But Rafe, you’ve been so busy lately,” a familiar woman’s voice catches my attention, accompanied by the clatter of stilettos.

  What’s Emily doing here?

  “I’ve told you Em, I started seeing someone. I really like this girl. I’m just asking you to back off and respect that, okay?” Rafe says in a low voice.

  Around the corner from them, I do a little victory dance for Char. I knew Rafe was a good guy!

  “It’s that little blond bimbo that you work with, isn’t it?” Emily asks, turning sour.

  I’m filled with disgust for the woman.

  “It’s none of your business, and I think we’re done here.” Rafe shuts her down, and puts her in her place. His steps sound down the hall in the other direction.

  “We’ll see about that,” I just barely catch Emily’s whisper.

  Before I know it, I hear a loud “Humph!” and the clicking of Emily’s heels are heading my way.

  Without thinking, I’m practically skipping away in the opposite direction. I can’t wait to tell Char about what I just heard! Rafe’s such a stud!

  After avoiding the near confrontation, I manage to find my way down an alternate route in the building to reach the basement. Passing the lecture room that displays the windows bearing the printer’s mark, I note how much my knowledge of the simple symbol has changed my life since Rafe pointed the windows out to me just a week ago.

  Down in the basement, I enter Uncle Mike’s front office. Thankfully the secretary’s desk is temporarily empty for me to slip
by unquestioned.

  Through the mahogany door, I stumble my way around the dark office to a row of bookshelves that hides a small latch. The latch opens the passage to the sanctuary below.

  Darcy told me that the passage is safe for me to use even at night due to the fact that the element safeguard protects the entire building, since it rests on the foundation of the sanctuary.

  I pull the latch and make my way back down into Darcy’s lair. Entering the great room, Darcy is noticeably absent. Grateful for the break, my hunger prompts me to grab a snack in the kitchen before I sit down to write out a timeline that will better help me understand the chain of events revolving around Eleanor’s life and the Statera.

  Moments later, with a tray of peanut butter covered apple wedges in hand, I settle down on a plush chair to snack. I take the liberty to sort through a stack of books and papers looking for something to write on.

  Rustling through some old papers, I notice quite a few documents with a familiar diamond shaped symbol that I’ve now seen several times. It’s the same four-point scrolled symbol on the binding of the Statera in my dream, and the casing for the miniature portrait of Eleanor.

  “Can I help you find anything?” Darcy startles me from my thoughts. He takes a seat in the chair just to my left and gestures to the stack of documents I’m sorting through.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry, but I’ve noticed this symbol a few times.” My hand holds up one of the papers with the diamond shaped symbol.

  “Well, I am not surprised you recognized it. You designed it.” He says, reaching for an apple wedge and popping it into his mouth.

  “She. She designed it,” I say, glaring at him in challenge.

  He meets my eyes, not backing down. The familiar charge in the air sparks in ignition, but anticipating it, I keep hold of the eye contact for the first time since we met.

  The wave of tumultuous emotion that follows whirls through my head, blocking out everything to a point that I’m wondering if I lost consciousness. Suddenly, my mind’s eye drowns in a memory of Eleanor drawing the design of the four-point symbol: The Statera symbol.