by Jenny Lykins
Her head began to throb, and she was sure her blood pressure was at stroke level. She shook her head to clear it, then cradled her forehead in the palms of her hands while she thought of a way out of this mess.
Reed obviously misread her actions. He stood, his head bowed, and tossed what was left of the ragged hat onto the seat he'd just vacated.
"I don't blame you. No one can feel more disgust at my actions than I do, myself.
Her head shot up at his words and the sense of misery he exuded. Her mouth took over and ignored any signals her brain might have sent.
"Reed, you didn't rape her. You were with me. Don't you see, it's not your baby. You were with me that night. We're married. You can't marry her because you're already married to me."
She'd taken his hands and now slid to her knees on the floor. He knelt beside her on one knee and pulled her to him. His tanned, work-roughened hand cradled the back of her head and she nestled her face against his chest.
"Oh, little one, listen to what you're saying. I love you even more, if that's possible, for still wanting me after my dishonor. I don't deserve your love. I would live in fear of my actions coming back to haunt you and making your life miserable."
Elise raised her face and spoke in a voice choked with tears.
"Reed, think. Remember me. Right now I'm just a shadow in your memories, but I'm your wife. Your future."
His look was indulgent, pained, and she knew he thought she was rambling in desperation. With tender care, he lifted her and placed her gently on the loveseat.
"I have to marry her, Elise. You don't deserve this pain, but I do. I deserve worse. I just wanted you to know the truth. I should have told you everything when all this started. It could have saved a lot of heartache."
He stared down at her for several seconds, his emotions clear in his eyes, then he turned and left the house.
Elise curled into a ball and buried her face in her knees as she sobbed uncontrollably.
"Oh, God, you're right. It could have saved so much heartache."
She wasn't sure how long she'd been curled up on the loveseat when a gentle rap sounded on the door. Her cheeks felt taut from all the tears that had dried on them, but she didn't care. She didn't even bother to look up until she heard someone enter the room.
For once Aunt Lil wasn't bouncing. In fact, she approached Elise as she would a bereaved widow at a funeral.
"My dear, I should shame you for leaving Oak Vista and not telling me goodbye, but I understand. Truly I do. I don't know what Reed Blackwell is thinking of to let a girl like you go and marry that little puffed up, overindulged...well, I'd like to buy her for what's she's worth and sell her for what she thinks she's worth."
Boy, did Lil hit the nail on the head with that one. It felt good to laugh, even if it was only a half-hearted chuckle. But the humor didn't last long.
"Don't blame Reed, Aunt Lil. He has his reasons."
"Oh, fiddlesticks. What possible reason could he have to marry that girl when he obviously loves you?"
What reason, indeed. Elise studied the pattern of the Aubusson carpet before finally looking Lil in the eye and shrugging.
The older woman's eyes narrowed for just a moment, then flicked to her reticule. She rummaged furiously for a second, then stopped. Both hands remained in the embroidered bag.
"Well, enough gloom. I understand this is your birthday."
Oh, good grief, she'd completely forgotten. What a hellish birthday.
"I brought you a gift. Just a token." Lil withdrew a tiny package and held it out to Elise. "Happy birthday, dear girl."
"Oh, Lil, how sweet of you. But how did you know? I didn't even remember, myself."
Lil wagged a pudgy finger at her. "I have my ways. I'm not as scatterbrained as people imagine."
Elise tried to formulate a response to that as she untied the ribbon and opened the little gift.
Her breath left her lungs in a broken sob. The tears flowed and dripped onto her lap, and still she sat, motionless.
"Elise! My dear girl! Oh, heavens! Marisa! Marisa, come quick! Something is wrong with Elise!"
Lil threw open the pocket doors and ran from the room.
Elise heard the clatter of shoes on the cypress floors, she felt someone shaking her shoulders and wiping her tears. She heard voices calling her name. But the only thing she saw was the gift in her hand - the gold filigree locket she'd worn the day she married Reed.
*******
She stared at the cup of noxious tea and reflected that it would smell every bit as bad in a hundred and fifty years.
Not a lot of emotions penetrated her thoughts. It felt almost as if her heart and mind had been given generous doses of Novocain.
She was glad she'd made Nell give her the tin filled with tea before she left Oak Vista. It saved her a painful trip back to collect it.
Nell hadn't given it willingly when Elise told her she wanted the brew that would send her back to her own time. The kindly old woman had tried to convince her that everything would work out. Well, she'd been wrong, and now it was time to leave.
The wedding was scheduled for noon. High noon in the verdant, aromatic gardens of Oak Vista. The wedding at noon, to be followed by a gala reception with the whole countryside in attendance. Less than twelve hours away.
Her fingers brushed against the locket pinned over her heart. A sob escaped her throat and she wondered where it had come from.
The house was quiet. Everyone had been in bed for at least a couple of hours when Elise tiptoed to the kitchen to brew her tea. She wanted to do this alone.
The rising steam began to lessen and Elise picked up the cup and placed it to her lips. She'd discovered the first time she'd drank it that the taste worsened as it cooled.
She held her breath and downed it. It didn't taste as bad as it smelled. That's right. Now she remembered.
She poured another cup and drained it, and continued to do so until the tea pot was empty.
All she could do now was wait.
Her movements were slow and methodical as she washed out the teapot and cup, dried them and put them away.
She climbed the stairs as if climbing the steps to her gallows, then closed the door to her room with a quiet click.
Her clothes all hung neatly in the armoire. To kill time she took each item out and folded it with meticulous care before placing it in the handsome, leather-bound trunk Reed had provided.
Each piece of clothing held its own memory. The mint green gown she'd had made to resemble the one she'd been wearing in the future when he'd appeared on her bed. The yellow skirt and bodice from the day she'd watched him swim and he'd tackled her in the clearing. And, oh yes, the peach ballgown she'd worn the night Reed had danced with her and said, "I love you, little one."
As she lovingly smoothed the skirts, she noticed a dark stain on the fabric. Her brows knit in dismay when she found another one. Then yet another appeared, the dark peach splotch feathered across the silk. Confusion clouded her features when more stains appeared out of nowhere, until finally sensation began to replace the numbness, and she felt the hot tears burning rivers down her cheeks. Tears she wasn't even aware she'd shed. Tears that fell to the silken memory in her hands and branded it just as they branded her heart.
Oh, lord, it's going to be a long night.
Her eyes were still burning when she finished packing her belongings. She supposed they would be sent to Reed when it became apparent she was missing.
With that thought in mind, she sat down to compose a letter to Marisa. She needed to thank her for her kindness and friendship, and tell her not to worry about her. It took her several hours and countless sheets of stationery before she finished one she was satisfied with.
She ended up telling Marisa that she'd suddenly regained her memory, that she was married, the mother of a small child and had been so anxious to see her family she'd left immediately. She'd even mentioned that hopefully the "borrowed horse" would be returned befor
e anyone even missed it.
The story would never win the Pulitzer, but her heart just wasn't in it.
She sealed the letter and placed it in the trunk.
By the time she collected the wadded balls of rejected prose and burned them in the fireplace she could hear the servants beginning to move about downstairs.
With alarm, she yanked back the draperies and stared into the darkness. The diamond-studded night sky was already fading to dark gray. The stars were beginning to dim, and even as she watched, objects took form and became visible.
This wasn't good. She'd meant to be gone by now. The wedding was only hours away, and instead of disappearing she'd cried and reminisced.
If Nell gave her the wrong tea she'd kill her!
Elise paced the floor for several minutes, stopping every now and then to see if she still reflected in the mirror.
How stupid! She wasn't a vampire.
She studied her hands and prayed they would become translucent and then disappear altogether.
A quiet rap on the door jarred her from her prayers.
Marisa cracked the door and peeped in, then stepped into the room.
"Oh, good. I thought I heard you...moving...around."
She stared at Elise, still dressed in her clothes from the day before, then glanced at the bed that hadn't been slept in.
She held the question in her eyes, but Elise just shook her head.
"Some nights I have trouble sleeping. Last night was one of them."
Marisa didn't look convinced, but she was too polite to pry.
"I'm so sorry. I stopped by to tell you we'll be leaving for the wedding around ten thirty. Will you be rested enough to go?"
Elise caught the unexpected sob before it was fully born.
"No. I don't think I'd better go." Her voice cracked and tears burned her eyes. Damn. She hadn't thought she could cry any more. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her back to Marisa.
In the next instant she felt a motherly embrace encircle her shoulders. A hand smoothed her hair.
"Are you all right, Elise?"
Oh, no! Don't be nice to me! Don't be nice.
It was too late. The dam burst and sobs wracked her entire body. They rose up from the very depths of her.
Marisa guided her to the edge of the bed and sat her down. She gathered her into her arms and rocked her as she would Nicholas, patting her gently and crooning words of comfort.
"Oh, Marisa, I love him. I can't watch him marry someone else. I love him."
"I know, I know," Marisa murmured. "I wondered if you would ever admit it to me."
Elise raised her sodden face from where it'd been buried in Marisa's shoulder.
"You knew?"
Marisa gave a breathy laugh. "Even a blind man could see how the two of you feel about each other. What I don't understand is why he's marrying her."
The sobs had subsided, but the tears continued to flow. And along with them came the story.
The words tumbled out so fast she was barely making sense. A voice in her mind told her she was betraying a confidence, but she was past caring.
The only part she left out was the part about the future.
"He's convinced he f..f.forced her. She knew how he was dressed, and he's convinced the only way she would know is if it r..really happened. But he was with me." She struggled to stop snuffling like a baby. She couldn't possibly be making sense.
"Oh, for pity's sake. Leave it to a man to be so unbelievably obtuse. Of course, he was raised by the servants, so we can make a few allowances for that."
"What are you talking about? Make allowances for what?"
"Elise, anyone could know how Reed came home after that ball. Why, there are no secrets on the servants grapevine. Even the most discreet homes have their dirty laundry aired on occasion.
"All the ladies of the households do their best to quell any gossip, but by the same token, they know just who to go to, to find out what's going on in other homes.
"But Reed, you see, was raised without a lady of the house. The servants were his family. One could certainly never place that cold uncle of his in that category. Anyway, just by having the nature of a man, he wasn't, shall we say, inquisitive enough to discover the wealth of information that flowed in and out of his home."
Good heavens, she'd been as dense as Reed. Her heart pounded and she knew she had to get to Reed, to tell him.
She surged to her feet and was overcome with blinding dizziness.
"Oh, no! Not now! Not now!"
She dropped to her knees and scrambled to the chamber pot. Without hesitation she rammed her finger as far down her throat as she could. She retched again and again to empty her stomach of what little was in it.
Marisa was beside her, shaking her and pleading with her to tell her what was wrong.
The dizziness worsened. She was only barely aware of Marisa dragging her onto the bed. A blanket of darkness settled over her.
"Not now," she whimpered. "Not now."
*******
He knew what it felt like to walk to his own funeral. The walk to the minister standing under the arch of flowers was the longest walk he would ever take in his life.
He stood there now, next to Angeline, and tried to breathe despite the stifling humidity. With an evil sense of satisfaction, he noted that the plethora of nauseating ruffles on her gown were as wilted as her hair.
Angeline turned to look up at him and graced him with an angelic, loving smile for the benefit of the onlookers. He didn't bother to respond.
The minister's voice began to drone.
As he stood there and stared, Angeline's face began to transform into Elise's. Reed blinked several times and even shook his head, but he could still see Elise. She had on a beautiful, white-beaded wedding gown with a matching veil. The gown belonged to Jan, who stood beside her.
Jan? Who is Jan?
Of course, Jan was married to Don, the man standing beside me.
Then it began. Memories tumbled over him like a cascading waterfall. They came so fast, one wasn't completed before another began.
Elise! She's my wife! My beautiful, wonderful, airplane-flying wife! And Angeline's baby isn't mine!
"...reason these two should not be joined together in Holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."
Reed's head jerked up and he opened his mouth to speak.
A growing murmur of the crowd stopped him, and he spun around to see Jeffrey Vancoeur walking up the aisle. He stopped within inches of Reed.
"Terribly sorry, Blackwell, but I feel you might want to see me in private."
Reed glanced at Angeline, who was glaring at Jeffrey with murder in her eyes.
The two men excused themselves and entered the house from the rear. They both ignored the crescendo of voices as they walked away.
Reed listened in stunned silence as Jeffrey told him that Angeline was not pregnant and never had been. He summoned a terrified slave Reed recognized as Angeline's maid. She confirmed that she'd washed the rags from Angeline's "monthly curse" with clockwork regularity.
"You can thank Lilianna for ferreting out that tidbit of information. Not only did Angeline lie about being with child, Blackwell, but once she'd spun her story, she was trapped. She approached me in the hope I would help her out of her predicament by obliging to get her with child. She pointed out we were only second cousins. And, of course, by being a relative, I was honor bound to keep her little secret."
Reed breathed deeply in an effort to remain calm.
"How very enterprising of her. Tell me more."
"Not much more to tell, really. Of course, I wasn't accommodating."
"Of course."
"I threatened to expose her to you. She played her hysterics very well and promised not to go through with the wedding. She was very convincing. I left town believing the whole thing had been settled. Imagine my surprise when I stopped here at breakfast that day and found the wedding plans were in full swing. And she
'd even managed to force out your charming houseguest. You know...the one you're in love with."
You're right, Reed thought, and I'm going to shout it to the world.
"I spoke with Angeline again, rather sternly I might add, and she tearfully swore to put an end to this charade. I'm afraid I can be very naive, and I woefully overestimated her character.
"I only just arrived back in the area today. Of course, I came straight here as soon as I was made aware of the day's festivities."
A beaming Reed held out his hand and clasped Jeffrey's as he clapped him on the back. He felt as if he'd just been given a pardon from purgatory.
"You're a good man, Vancoeur. I'll find a way to repay you."
"Repay me by marrying Elise Gerard. If any two people should be married, it is you two."
"It's a deal," Reed said with a laugh. "But before you leave I have something I want you to witness."
He stuck his head out the study door and murmured to a passing servant. He turned back and smiled at Jeffrey. Amazing how his descendent was an exact duplicate in looks, but there was far more than a hundred and fifty years separating their personalities.
Within minutes the door crashed open, and Angeline and her ruffles stood in the doorway, vibrating with rage. The servant who brought her left at a run.
"What is the meaning of this?" she screamed as she stormed into the room.
Reed's voice was deceptively calm. In fact, she was forced to stop screeching and stand still in order to hear his quiet words.
"I believe you know what the meaning of this is, Angeline. I know everything. The wedding is off. In fact, the wedding was off when I remembered exactly what happened the night I supposedly raped you. I just hadn't had the chance to stop it."
Angeline took a breath to speak, but Reed held up his hand for silence.
"If you prefer, I can go out and explain to the guests what has transpired and reveal the content of my conversation with Jeffrey."
He nodded to Jeffrey. Jeffrey nodded back.
