27. Chapter 27
Chapter 27
O n a chilly Christmas night in 1864, Will and Emily met in Hartford. He’d rented a room at an inn for them to get ready.
“You have everything you need on the bed.” He stopped at the doorway while Emily crossed to the narrow bed, its blanket barely visible under the neatly splayed out clothing. “A maid should arrive in a minute to help you. I’ll be down the hallway.”
“You got me a dress?”
“It was not custom made, but I believe it will suffice. This is not a time when people would complain about the lack of finery.”
Emily lifted a long lime green skirt; the bodice, decorated with lace and tiny green flowers, came separately. How is this not fine? It looked like a dress for a princess. There were also a lot of white skirts with lace around the edges, two fine cotton shirts, a corset… She lifted a pair of undies, typical old-fashioned ones that ended below the knee with a ruffle of white lace. These might be cute to wear. Except… she looked closer at the crotch area. Oh, no.
“I have a problem.” She walked to Will. “There’s a hole in my pants. See!” She held them up, displaying the part not sewn together between the legs. “They forgot to stitch this.”
Will went bright red and averted his eyes. “I should not be looking upon women’s unmentionables.”
“You already looked at them when you bought them.”
“Which was inappropriate. However, everything should be up to the standards.”
But that meant… “Are you saying women here walk around with their crotches out?”
She was surprised his ears didn’t burst into flames. He looked down the hallway and nodded. “There’s the maid.”
“Sir. Ma’am.” The young woman bobbed.
“If you can assist my cousin, please,” Will said with a pointed look at Emily. “She doesn’t talk much and requires a lot of help with the simplest tasks.”
The maid looked at Emily with pity. “Oh. I see. Right in here, then, ma’am.”
Emily sent Will a narrowed glance and let the maid gently direct her into the room. Perhaps it was for the best she didn’t talk too much—she didn’t need the maid proclaiming her a spy, too. And she did have to admit the woman was very adept; she tugged on stockings, fluffed out skirts, and laced the various shirts and corset with the efficiency of a machine. While finishing the latter, Emily lifted what looked like a giant slinky off the bed.
“That is a crinoline,” the maid explained slowly and clearly. “We’ll attach it to the hooks on the corset now. See?”
Emily bit her tongue and tried not to roll her eyes.
Will knocked just as the maid finished, and she excused herself. Will, too, had changed, and now wore an elegant, tight-fitting formal suit, all black.
“Looking good, Gramps. Do you think we’ll fit in?”
“Not perfectly. But there will be enough of a boodle to not make us too noticeable.”
Emily strode to the door and nearly tripped on her skirt.
“Small steps,” Will said.
She stabilized herself and tried again, progressing steadily to the door, where she stopped—or rather, the door stopped her too-wide skirt. “Now what?”
“I believe you squish it at the sides. Like this.” Will demonstrated with his hands, making himself look like a bird trying to take off.
“And then I’m the weird one,” Emily muttered, but tried it nonetheless. The crinoline squished and regained its form once she dropped it. “Oh. Bouncy and squishy.”
Will followed her with a smile.
“You find this amusing, don’t you? You love seeing me struggle.”
“It is a refreshing change. For once, I’m not the one out of my element.” He offered a hand. “Shall we?”
The ball was on the second floor of a townhouse around the corner. As they stopped at the entry to buy tickets, voices and violin music drifted from upstairs.
“Never heard of anyone charging for a ball.” Emily rubbed her arms and shuffled on her feet. It looked like snowing, and the temperature was appropriate, but she couldn’t blame Will for not getting her a jacket. Or whatever existed in this time. He’d had his hands full with sub-standard underwear.
“It’s a charity event. The proceeds go to the Union Army. Also,” Will lowered his voice, “you may not want to speak so loudly. The accent.”
“Right. Don’t talk, especially to Fabienne.”
“I didn’t say you’re not allowed to talk.”
The double door opened into a room that glimmered and glittered in a kaleidoscope of colors, thanks to the vibrant gowns of the ladies, occupying every corner of the place. Multiple chandeliers were set alight, reflecting in a row of mirrors against one wall. On the other hung two star-striped flags.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Quite so.”
Keeping to the walls, they strolled around the room. Most of the space was reserved for dancing; and with those skirts, Emily could see why they needed it. The dancers twisted and twirled, the ladies bouncing with small, dainty steps, the gentlemen maintaining a straight, dignified pose. There seemed to be a dance within the dance, as multiple couples stuck together and often changed partners.
“I don’t think our proms hold a candle to this,” Emily muttered to Will as she watched the elaborate movements. “They’re usually more head-banging, followed by an awkward waltz.”
“Does no one dance like this anymore?”
“No one I’d know. What do we do now?”
Will pulled out the packet of her chewing gum.
She lifted her eyebrows. “You have strange traditions.”
“It’s not a tradition. Chew one.”
“I thought you wanted it.” Still, she wasn’t saying no to gum. She opened the packet and plucked one in her mouth.
“How long do you require for the right consistency?” Will asked.
“Consistency?”
“I heard your gum can become extremely sticky. How long?”
“I don’t know, a minute? I never counted.”
They walked to a group of chairs. She refrained from popping a bubble.
Will gripped the back of an armchair, upholstered in a red and gold diamond-patterned fabric. “When you’re done, stick it here,” he said, loud enough only for her to hear it.
“Are you crazy?” What was this, grade school?
“Please, just stick it,” he ground out, glancing around warily.
Emily frowned but took off one glove, turned toward the wall, and quickly stuck the bright pink blob on the back of the chair. “There. Do you want to explain why I’m vandalizing some person’s property?”
Will did his best impression of a sphinx and changed the topic. “There she is.” He nodded his head to the side.
Emily turned, and her heart leaped. Fabienne. She was a few feet away, talking with an older woman. She wore one of those delightfully simplistic gowns—no frills or lace, just simple ivory silk. Mesmerized, Emily watched her movements—a little twirl of the fan, a shake of the head, a shuffling of feet. Like she couldn’t keep still.
“She’s so pretty.”
“We can step closer,” Will said.
Emily nodded eagerly, and he took her hand. She tried to keep a straight face as they approached Fabienne, who’d been left alone and stared through the window into the night, the fan hanging limply from her wrist. In the affect, Emily had forgotten all about her small, dainty steps, and suddenly the crinoline swung, and the lace of the petticoat was under her foot and— bam , she crashed straight into Fabienne, sending her fan flying.
Dark blue eyes met Emily’s, and in a split second, Emily felt as if she’d been absorbed into a deep, lonely night. A very sad night.
Will bent and retrieved the fan. “My apologies, ma’am.” He avoided looking at Fabienne as he handed her the fan, then quickly steered Emily away. “Come. Would you like to dance?”
“Oh, no. No way. I can’t do… that .”
“The next one is a polka. It’s easy. You won’t have to interact with anyone else.”
She fumbled with her hands. “I guess we can try. But I don’t know how it goes.” Why did Fabienne look so sad?
“Don’t worry. Just follow my lead. A lady would never be blamed for any mistakes.” He led her to the dance floor. “Curtsy.” He bowed, following the example of other dancers. “One hand over my shoulder, the other one here.” He clasped her hand in his and extended it outward.
She stopped herself from laughing, but a snort still escaped.
“Is something wrong?”
“I’m such a loser, dancing with my grandpa.”
“A loser?” He nudged her into motion as the music picked up. They made short, jumping steps while moving in a wide circle across the room.
“A person who’s not popular. You know, because I brought my grandpa to a dance.”
“I’d say I’m spry for a grandpa.”
He was—and it looked like he was enjoying it, too. Light from the chandeliers brought out the golden specks in his eyes as they whirled around the dance floor. The flurry of other dancers obscured Fabienne, but every few seconds, Emily caught a glimpse of the ivory dress by the window. Didn’t she want to dance?
“How did she lose her memory? Fabienne?” Emily asked.
“It happened as she activated the watch. My best theory is some of the almonite in her watch shifted form—an instability—and leaked into her blood, allowing temporary travel. The trip, in theory, wasn’t successful. She got split. One part of her traveled to the future, one didn’t. Therefore, she was still conscious in the present and never pulled back from the future.”
“And the memory loss?”
“Have you ever traveled to the future?”
“Once, one day forward. Oh! I don’t gain memories of the time in between.”
“Exactly. Put your arms akimbo.”
“What?”
“Put your arms akimbo and make a pass around me.”
She hurried up, already falling a step behind the other dancers.
Will continued, “You only have memories of your past and present. Same for Fabienne. She couldn’t remember those two years because a part of her never lived them. The split also affected her personality. Fabienne who lived the two years in between behaved slightly differently.”
“But she made no more trips during that time?”
“No. After the morning in New York, the almonite harmlessly passed out of her system, leaving no trace—”
“Until Robbins contacted her and gave her a new dose.”
Will put his hands against his waist and rotated around her. The other men were doing it too, but that didn’t help. They still looked silly. She clenched her teeth, fighting off a smile.
Poor Fabienne. Emily couldn’t imagine how it’d feel to lose two years of memory. All the school stuff she’d have to learn all over again!
“Remember I said I needed you?”
“Huh?” She almost stumbled as she turned.
“In the park. You were somewhat occupied with uncovering my parentage.”
“Oh. You do?”
“Fabienne is in danger.”
Emily whipped around to check on her, dragging Will into an unscheduled pirouette. She breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed Fabienne near the chairs, with no murderer creeping up to stab her.
“Not yet.” Will maneuvered her back in position. “But she will be. From the very mission that is supposed to fix her mistakes. And I need you to save her.”
“What? When? Why? If you know, why don’t we just tell her—”
“We can’t.” His grip tightened. “Emily, trust me. I don’t wish for anyone—for you—to get in danger by trying to change things. For trying to achieve what you perhaps think a more desirable outcome.”
“What would be a more desirable outcome than this? She already succeeded in what,” Emily looked around, searching for Fabienne again, “…she wanted.” She was there, safe still—but not alone. A lean, blond man had joined her. Brayden . They were talking, and he held the back of the chair— oh, no . Not the Gum Chair.
Emily turned back to Will, who had the strangest expression on his face—like he was suppressing a smile. She gasped. That sneaky little… He was trying to sabotage Brayden! With gum , no less! And he made her do it so he’d be free of guilt.
So much about not enacting changes. She pulled free and started for the chair corner, but Will stopped her and directed her off the dance floor. “Don’t do it,” he said.
She gritted her teeth while she waited for her brain to supply a smart retort.
“Trust me.”
“But…” She accepted Fabienne eventually abandoned this life and returned to France—or changed this life, or whatever happened with the mission, honestly, this time travel knot was mind-boggling—but she didn’t have to be an accessory to elimination, not tonight. Unless everything in the diary had been a lie, some parts of this life made Fabienne happy. Brayden was one of them. And Emily wouldn’t let the same thing that happened to Mama and Dad happen to them.
“Everything must happen the way it always has,” Will said.
Emily forced her eyes off Fabienne and Brayden. “Are your parents happy?”
“Very much so.”
“And the rest of your family is alive.”
“Indeed.”
She closed her eyes and nodded to herself. “Then I’ll do what I can to help you. And if Fabienne could do it, I can make a change that will save Mama too, right?”
“Yes. There is a way.”
“Okay, Mr. Enigmatic.” She tried a smile, though it didn’t quite reach full capacity. “So, time travel? No biggie. Just tell me how to make the changes stick. Is there anything else?”
“In fact, there is,” he said as he led her to the exit. “You also must learn how to stop time.”