Chapter 18
After a less eventful dinner than the previous evening, Eva sat on her bedroom floor staring at a folded letter. It was the one that Henry had hidden in her suitcase a week ago.
She had yet to open it because she was afraid.
As a child, the fear of the unknown had always gripped her. It was like swimming in a dark sea not knowing what creatures floated by your toes. As an adult, she had mostly got over that fear because life was too short not to chase after uncertainty. But now … hell, now that fear was back, and she had spent the last hour wondering if she should jump off the safety of her boat and dive straight into the deep end.
She could ignore the letter. Leave his words a mystery and she would be none the wiser. But what if he had written about a breakthrough with the time-travelling device? Shouldn’t she know that? The whole drama with the time-travelling device seemed like a faraway problem now. And what if his letter was stupid like hers? What if his words created more of a mess, like hers had done?
God, what was she thinking with that song?
You weren’t thinking.
Stupid Eva, always running wild with her reckless behaviour because she so desperately wanted to feel something other than loneliness. Don’t they always tell you to be careful what you wish for? Whoever they are were right because she felt everything now. Fear, sadness, despair and, most of all, crippling heartache.
She ran her fingers across the letter. It was satin-smooth. With a heavy sigh, she opened it.
To the imp that vacates my home,
I write to you with good news.
The documents you have delivered upon my desk offered the key to your freedom and I have reason to believe that Cooper may have had the last missing device. Allow me to explain after the guests have gone.
P.S. A fascinating discovery pertaining to the time-travelling technology is that it functions with an energy source taken from the stars. Specifically, meteorites that fell from the sky in 1833 during the Leonid shower. They say the stars fell by the thousands, like majestic fireballs across the night sky. Can you imagine what fear such beauty of that magnitude would cause?
I certainly can.
H. Asheford
She read the letter once more. She should have been relieved, screaming for joy by the breakthrough but instead, she felt hurt. She had stupidly expected something more.
“What did you expect?” she said to herself. “An admission of love?”
With the sleeve of her nightgown, she wiped the tears from her face. She hadn’t stopped crying since entering her room hours ago. What happened in the parlour was embarrassing and painful for so many reasons. She didn’t know whether to ignore it or talk to him about it.
Talking would lead to unnecessary words.
Ignoring was easier.
She buried the letter in her trunk, shut the lid and locked it. As she dragged herself off the floor, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the washstand mirror.
“God, look at you,” she muttered. “You’re a lovesick puppy.”
She stuck out her tongue before dropping face-first into the fluffy spread of pillows and blankets on her bed. It was the only place where she could quickly forget the pain of her existence.
***
The next afternoon, as the company gathered in the parlour to play charades, Eva focused on a gold-framed painting above the piano, wondering how she had never noticed it before. It was a depiction of war; a chaotic tangle of dead soldiers, fallen horses and delicate angels in white. An intriguing juxtaposition to the parlour’s dark-blue walls, white ceiling, vases of fresh roses and lighthearted laughter. It was darkness framed in gold, like Henry Asheford.
Boy, oh boy, had he ever shown his true colours yesterday. He was like one of those sweet candies with a sour filling or a jelly donut filled with mustard. Maybe he had been that way all along and she hadn’t seen it. Blinded by his English charm. God. After all this was over, she would lay off Englishmen for a while. Maybe find herself a nice Canadian man. Someone local. Simple. Without a father who wanted him dead.
“Miss Davenport and Miss Edwards,” Lottie declared.
Eva nearly dropped her wine glass.
Fanny stood from her chair and gave a curtsy to the clapping audience. She threw Eva a dark glare before disappearing behind the crimson curtain by the piano.
“Miss Edwards.” Adelia spun around in her chair. “I do believe you’ve been called.”
With great reluctance, Eva placed her wine down and went to the makeshift stage. She hated the game of charades. She pulled back the heavy drapes and joined Lottie and Fanny.
“Right, so the subject is Alice in Wonderland,” Lottie declared.
“Oh, what a joy.” Fanny rolled her eyes.
“You have two minutes to decide who plays which role. When I ring the bell, that is your cue to go on stage, understood?” Lottie said.
“Yes.” Eva nodded, and Lottie moved to the other side of the curtain.
“You could play the Red Queen,” Fanny said at once.
Eva’s head turned to her sharply. “Let me guess, you want to play Alice?”
“As I should.”
“Because a black-haired Alice makes so much sense.”
Fanny was smiling coldly. “Darling, it would be wise of you to focus on your own part than worry about mine. Besides you are quite good at pouting; I am sure you will be a fabulous Red Queen.”
Eva raised her eyebrows.
Lottie’s head popped through the curtain. “You have one minute.”
“Miss Asheford, I believe we are settled. Let us begin, unless Miss Edwards has more to protest about?”
“No, no, I am quite content in playing the bitch this time around.”
The profanity had slipped before Eva could stop it. Oddly enough, it did not phase Fanny.
Her ashen eyes squinted slightly and she shook her head. “It is no wonder you desire the life of a spinster. No man would ever love you for such savage ways.”
Eva opened her mouth to reply but Fanny stepped through the curtain.
A murmur swept the length of the room.
With a sigh, Eva followed suit.
The bell was rung. Fanny was quick to strut around, hands on hips, fluttering her lashes and making the occasional gasp. The crowd stared back awkwardly.
God, this was so not happening right now. With another sigh, Eva grabbed Lord Price’s top hat and put it on her head.
“Oh, my!” Lord Price gave a jovial laugh.
Eva stuck her thumbs in her ears, spread her fingers and crossed her eyes while making a face.
“The Mad Hatter!”
Eva grinned and pointed her finger at Adelia.
“Alice in Wonderland!”
“Yes!”
There was a curt round of applause.
“Thank you for the help, Lord Price.” Eva smiled as she returned the top hat.
“It was my pleasure,” he said, grinning.
The game went on for a few more rounds before Lottie called out Eva’s name again and this time, she was paired with Henry. Behind the crimson curtain, they both glared at Lottie after she announced they would act out Romeo and Juliet.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Eva muttered.
“Let us choose another theme,” Henry was quick to say.
“Another?” Lottie blinked.
“I can think of a few dramatic themes,” Eva said. “The Pit and the Pendulum can give a nice depiction of what it’s like to be stuck in 188—”
Henry elbowed her side. “Thank you, Lottie, we will do Romeo and Juliet.”
As soon as Lottie left, Henry looked at her. “Did you really just compare your situation to being a prisoner of the Spanish Inquisition?”
“I did.”
“That is…” His shoulder slumped. “Never mind, now is not the time to discuss this.”
“We at least share that sentiment.” She grabbed a teacup and a cane from the table of props. “Here is your goblet and your sword.”
Henry was stone-faced.
“I’ll go out there and lie on the ground. You come out a few seconds later to find me dead. Remember to act like you give a shit about me, then drink your poison and die.” She clenched her shaking hands by her side. “I’ll wake up and remember that I give a shit about you, take your sword and stab myself in the heart.”
“God, Eva, stop this, please.”
Anger flowed through her. How dare he use her name now. “I’m sorry, who?”
“One minute,” Lottie popped her head through the curtain.
“We’re ready now,” Eva snapped.
She did not give Henry any chance to speak or react. Instead, she tore the teacup from his hands and hurried through the curtain.
Silence filled the room.
A bell was rung.
It did not take much effort to act heartbroken. She had enough of that emotion coursing through her veins that it practically seeped from her pores. Even the tears in her eyes were real. She staggered toward the middle of the stage, brought the empty cup to her lips, and fell to her death in a graceful, yet amply dramatic way.
There was a muted gasp from the crowd.
Seconds later, Henry’s boots reverberated through the floor against her head, prompting her heart to thud along with every step.
There were more gasps as he carefully fell to her side, landing his head against her thighs.
It took everything within her not to break character by the sudden touch. She opened her eyes, sat up and cried out in anguish as she observed his limp body. With a trembling hand, she touched the side of his face. His jaw clenched as she ran her thumb over his lower lip.
Now for the cherry on top.
She took the poker from his side and stuck it beneath her armpit. Slowly, she fell across his torso and laid her head against his chest.
Beneath her ear, his heart thudded loud and fast.
The corners of her lips twitched. As angry as she was with him, she couldn’t help but enjoy the sound of his heartbeat.
“Romeo and Juliet!” Adelia shouted.
Eva was quick to lift her head. “Yes!”
“Bravo! Bravo! Bellissimo! What a sweet, dramatic pair you both make!”
The crowd clapped as Eva and Henry stood. Amid the cheers, Eva watched the struggle in Henry’s eyes, darkening like waves in a storm.
He suddenly excused himself.
She watched his figure saunter out of the room. As he rounded the corner into the entrance hall, Eva caught a glimpse of Fanny sitting in her chair. Her face was pulled tight into an expression of scorn, her mouth twisted as if she were sucking on a sour candy.
Eva found humour in the woman’s obvious contempt. Look who’s jealous now. She flashed a mischievous smile in Fanny’s direction and made a dramatic bow as if she were an actor on stage. Just as she made to follow Henry, she was bombarded by Adelia’s comments about her wonderful acting. If only they all knew that none of it was an act.
***
Hours later, Eva watched the trickle of water spout from the fountain. Beneath the setting sun, the water looked like a stream of yellow diamonds. If she were to reach out, maybe she could catch a few. Imagine that. A fountain of diamonds. If all else failed, she could sell those tiny diamonds, make a fortune and run far away from Asheford Hall. Maybe buy a remote castle, live as a hermit for the remainder of her days and die in obscurity sometime between the two world wars.
Shit. I’m losing my damned mind.
She brought the corner of a tiny sandwich to her mouth. It was cucumber. Her least favourite sandwich but it was all that had been left over from lunch. Having barely eaten throughout the day, she had grabbed it before legging it to the garden to hide from the guests … yet again.
If her dad could see her now, she was sure he’d be laughing his ass off. He’d say something like, Eva, look at you, eating a cucumber sandwich in a dress while heartbroken over a boy. And she would reply, Yes, Dad, and it’s all your fault.
Eva observed the sky, wondering if he was up there.
No. Don’t be ridiculous. Heaven didn’t exist. But then again, time travel wasn’t possible two months ago. And yet here she was.
A shooting star crossed the dusky sky.
If she were religious or spiritual, she may have considered that a sign. But she was neither, and she was tired of pretending to be something she wasn’t.
She shoved the rest of the sandwich into her mouth.
“Miss Edwards?”
Ungracefully, she peered over her shoulder, mouth full of bread.
Elias furrowed his brow before smiling. “I seem to ha’ disturbed a woman in her natural habitat.”
She swallowed. “Yes, you did, Mr. McKenzie. Not a wise move.”
“Will ye bite my heid off?”
“You’re in luck as I have just eaten a cucumber sandwich.”
“Ah.” He brought his hands up. “Impeccable timing. If ye don’t mind, however, I will sit a good distance away. Just in case ye begin to feel famished again.”
She gave a nod. “I see that your years of research in the field have given you wisdom.”
Elias sat upon the step and leaned back on his elbows. “May I ask ye a personal question?”
“If I could ask one in return,” she said.
“Och, a compromise?”
“Only fair.”
“What is it ye want in life?”
“What … what do I want in life?”
“Aye,” he said. “Before ye answer, I’d like ye to remove all societal structures. Anyone with a brain can ken that most o’ mankind before our time survived without such strictness. Given that freedom, what would ye do?”
“Well, I suppose I’d travel.”
“And?”
“I’d uh … I’d wear trousers every day, forgo the corset and wear my hair down without a care in the world,” Eva said, feeling a spark of excitement. “I’d live out of a suitcase if I could.”
“Then come with me, Jane Edwards.”
“What … what did you say?”
“Be my assistant.”
“Assistant?” Eva snorted. “You mean, archive all the bugs and birds you find?”
“Or ye can be my braw wife and skip the fieldwork entirely.”
Eva quickly stood. She stumbled back against the fountain and held out her hands. “Are you … are you proposing to me? Because if you are … I mean … Elias, we’ve known each other for four days.”
As much as she admired Elias McKenzie, she had never once felt a romantic tug toward him. Yes, he was handsome, witty and Scottish – damn, was he ever Scottish – but he was not Henry Asheford. Jesus Christ, she needed to get away from the UK. No, scratch that, she needed to leave 1881 as soon as possible.
“I know it comes as a surprise. To be perfectly honest, I have contemplated holdin’ off from confessin’ but, aye, life is too short not to take risks,” he said. “Ye say ye have a wish to travel and I can give ye that, Jane. I can take ye on excursions all over the world.”
Her breath came in rapid puffs. “Elias…”
“Please,” he said. “Please, hear me out. Yer an exceptionally rare lass, Jane. Ye present yerself as a bonny peacock but I see a fiery phoenix beneath yer jade-coloured wings. Yer brave, brazen and fearless … all of which are brilliant traits required in the field. No other woman I have ever met had such courage.”
Hell. He’s dead serious.
Elias’s speech reminded her of Henry’s words back at Bondieux House. You soar like a bird under a unique guise of equality. That freedom will get you into trouble in this world. She thought he meant with his father and thugs, not out-of-the-blue marriage proposals by rugged Scotsmen.
Elias looked at her with a heartbreaking expression.
Maybe in an alternate universe, she could imagine him as her husband. They would have a fine life. As good a life as possible in the late nineteenth century. They would also laugh a lot. Most probably dance. For sure, they would empty bottles of whisky, while contemplating the universe from their house in the Highlands. And when adventure came calling, he would take her through the jungles like some Scottish Tarzan, they would have sex beneath a canopy of palms in the twilight hours surrounded by a concert of crickets and she would be happy. It was a beautiful thought.
But it wasn’t her future.
Or his.
She felt her face get hot. The silence between them grew uncomfortable.
Elias swallowed hard and glanced at the trickling water of the fountain. “Och, I suppose I was warned about yer ambitions.”
“Wh-what?”
“Henry told me of yer intentions.”
“My intentions?”
“To become a bluestocking … a spinster,” Elias muttered and stood. “I didnae believe it so. I wondered if I could entice ye to a life of adventure as ye seemed keen on the idea.”
She approached him. “Please do not see this as rejection.”
“What is it, then?”
“It is simply two people in the wrong place, at the wrong time,” she said, her voice losing confidence. “Yes, I am surprised, but I am also touched by your affections. You speak of ambitions, and although we share similarities, I wish to finish school before I consider the complexities of married life. As a scholar, I am sure you can understand the importance of education.”
“Aye, I do,” he said flatly. “Well, Miss Edwards, I appreciate yer honesty, I do … but I suppose I shall retire to my room—”
“Elias.” She caught his arm. “One day everything will make sense. Not only your pursuit for love, but also your career.”
His eyes were hard. “Are ye a prophet now?”
“It’s simply a feeling.”
“I dinnae ken, Jane. Sometimes I feel like everything I do is in vain. Like the world’s a puzzle that cannae be solved.” He looked at the sky. “I swear by all that is holy, our existence must mean something other than God placing us on Earth. My life’s mission is to shed light on Darwin’s theory o’ evolution and make the truth known, as it should have been the day The Origin o’ The Species was published twenty-two years ago. It has been a passion o’ mine since I can remember, but … Jane, what happens when this passion forces me to lead a lonely life? When I am not arguing with professors and being ignored by the scientific community, I am travelling to faraway lands on my own. I’m not sure I can live like that much longer.”
Her heart clenched.
She placed her hands on his burly shoulders. “Elias McKenzie, if you must know, your life’s mission is not wasted. Loneliness is sometimes a consequence of such greatness, but it doesn’t need to last a lifetime.” She attempted to smile. “Nothing ever does.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “Who’s the wise one now?”
“Please”—she patted his shoulders—“do not give up your dream.”
For a blink, they only stared at one another. Then, he slowly nodded and pulled away.
“I bid ye goodnight, lass,” Elias said. “I leave tomorrow at sunrise and we will most likely miss one another. Thank ye for yer honesty. Perhaps, we will catch up again if circumstances allow it.”
Before she could respond, Elias was walking away faster than the speed of light toward Asheford Hall, leaving Eva to wallow once more in her loneliness.