Chapter 27
A light rain fell over the church, covering the cemetery in a dreary layer of mist. The church bells chimed. People trickled out of the metal doors in hushed murmurs. A child screamed and was promptly silenced. Ignoring the commotion, Eva stared at the grave of an unknown woman. It was a large slab of stone, weathered by white salt spots, in a bed of moss and white daisies. The stranger’s life story etched onto the stone’s surface had faded with time.
Cruel, cruel time, Eva thought. It would eventually come for us all.
She tilted her head to read the date of birth, but the engraving was illegible. She wondered whether Henry’s grave would also be battered and left to ruin in her time. The thought was like a shot to her heart.
“There you are,” Lottie said.
Eva quickly wiped the tears from her face.
“Oh, Jane, you are not well.”
“I’m fine.”
William stood by the cemetery gate, hat in hand. His blond curls fell in ringlets around his boyish face. “Ladies, if you are ready, we can head back to Asheford Hall,” he said.
Lottie looked at Eva. “Are you ready or do you require a moment?”
Eva’s lips twisted. “I said I was fine,” she said with more force than intended. “Let’s return before the doctor arrives. I’m eager to get these stitches out.”
Lottie nodded and tucked her gloved hand into the crook of Eva’s arm.
Eva nearly recoiled from the girl’s touch. She had stopped counting the days since she last felt the warmth of Henry’s hand on her skin and every passing second since, she realized she was withdrawing further within herself. She did not want to be touched, nor did she want affection. Small talk had become torturous. Without a word from Henry, her nerves were wrecked with a sickening, phantom pain. And worse yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something horrible had happened. If it were not for the looming uncertainty, she would have jumped on the train in search of him.
“How did you like the sermon, Miss Edwards?” William asked, drawing her out of her thoughts.
“It was boring,” Eva said bluntly.
As of late, she had also found herself unable to continue with the Jane Edwards act. Why bother? Lottie and William both knew the truth. Without the guests, Henry, or the potential threat from his father around, there was no point in staying hidden.
“How so?” Lottie said.
“Lots of talking,” Eva said.
“Ah, yes, Father Pentley does rather like the sound of his own voice,” William said.
“He isn’t that bad,” Lottie said. “I did like the part about God’s guidance in times of trouble. What did you think of that, Jane?”
“There is no such thing as God, Lottie,” Eva said flatly. “It’s you against the universe. Always has been. Always will be. And my name’s Eva. Please, call me Eva.”
William and Lottie shot one another a look.
The inside of her chest felt hard and cold. Let the bemused expressions, judgments and gossip come, she no longer cared about any of it.
They boarded the carriage in silence and were soon before the large white doors of Asheford Hall. Eva jumped down from the carriage, hiked up her skirts and ran into the front hall. On the grand staircase, the mousy-looking servant girl carried a bundle of sheets in her arms.
“Excuse me, Mary,” Eva said, her voice echoing loudly in the large space.
The servant girl abruptly stopped. A flash of fear crossed her face before she collected herself.
“Has a letter come?” Eva asked.
“No, Miss Edwards,” Mary said. “’Tis the same as yesterday and the previous day.”
And the previous day … and the previous day.
Eva grumbled. She did not need a snooty, mousy-looking girl to tell her how irrationally annoying she was being by asking for the mail every day.
Lottie came through the door with a giggle, followed by William. They both stopped short before Eva. Their grins faded.
“I’ll be in my room,” Eva declared. Again.
She did not wait for Lottie’s response. Picking up her skirts, she stormed up the staircase and went straight to her room. It was bad enough that she was heartsick with fear from Henry’s disappearance, but the obvious flirting between Lottie and William rendered her a gasket waiting to blow.
She sighed heavily.
This was not like her. Evaline Quinn did not pace around waiting for something to happen. She made things happen. But what could she do? She couldn’t exactly run around in London. There was a target on her head. Not to mention it was 1881. Life at Asheford Hall had kept her sheltered from the world outside and she was not sure whether she could easily survive it without Henry by her side.
She pounded her fists against the bed. “What the hell can I do?”
A thought entered her head.
She dropped to her knees and pressed her palms together. It was such a strange thing to pray to God. It almost felt perverse. Here she was, a non-believer, using prayer as a final act of desperation.
This is not you.
“But what if Lottie’s right?” she whispered to herself.
An angry tear fell down her cheek. She had to do something.
She shut her eyes and prayed to keep Henry safe, for him to return unharmed, for heartbreak to heal … for the chaos in her veins to dissipate … for the ache in her bones to vanish … for the strength to face the truth and, most importantly, she prayed to God that Henry Asheford had not betrayed her.
***
The bright, vast meadow in front of Asheford Hall smelled of summer rain and crushed rose petals. Birds chirped in the sky. Silver platters were laid on a picnic blanket with tea, sandwiches, chocolate cake, scones and clotted cream. It would have been the perfect birthday feast for Eva, but she had murder on her mind.
She pulled back the bowstring. The arrow sat tight between her pointer finger and her middle finger. As she observed the straw target, her hand vibrated with the force.
She aimed and released.
The arrow swooped through the air and hit the red bullseye.
“Well done!” William shouted from behind.
Eva barely peered back over her shoulder. “Thanks,” she mumbled.
She prepared the next arrow.
More days had passed without word from Henry. By now, her fears had transformed into raw anger. Sure, there was no texting, calling or internet in this century, but goddammit, he could have written a letter and sent it via pigeon or something. There was no excuse for not writing. How dare he leave them all hanging like this? He of all people should have known how horrible it was to worry about a loved one. Again and again, her mind bounced back and forth between fear and anger.
He left you. And you prayed for him like a stupid, silly girl.
A flash of shame burned her cheeks.
She raised the bow and aimed. This time, she was too quick to release the arrow. It flew high, missing the target completely.
She prepared another arrow.
You prayed, thinking that a nonexistent God would do something.
It was foolish to believe in that nonsense. If anything, her dumb prayer had made things worse. Since then, she had been more heartbroken. The chaos in her veins had turned into molten lava. The ache in her bones made it difficult to get out of bed in the morning, and most annoying of all, her suspicion that Henry had betrayed her had dug its claws into her brain, and every day that passed, the idea seeped poison into her thoughts.
She released the arrow.
Then another. Then another.
And when there were none left, she threw the bow to the grass with a guttural cry of rage.
What happened to their pact of loyalty and trust? How dare he run off on his own for her sake! Were they not in a partnership to help one another? Goddammit, she was his girlfriend and he had brushed her off and told her to stay home like she wasn’t strong enough to handle their mission to fix or retrieve the time-travelling device. Sexist prick.
Oh, but he did not want to ruin the last night.
Those were some of his words that morning before he fled to London. How dare he plan his leave without telling her. How dare he take away their moment to say goodbye properly. How dare he … how dare he … how dare he…
A hand touched her shoulder.
Eva jolted away. “Don’t touch me,” she snapped.
Lottie’s childlike face stared back. Her eyes were wide, and her lips were turned downward. She held a small gift, wrapped in silver paper.
For a moment, Eva stared at the girl.
Regret for her action fell from the sky and squished her. The endless days stuck at Asheford Hall, pacing the rooms and gardens, unable to act, made her feel trapped, and consequently, her moods were volatile.
“I’m sorry,” Eva choked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“I can assure you my brother has prepared me for much worse.” Lottie attempted to smile but it was rigid. She held up the present. “Please open your birthday gift.”
Eva examined the small silver box, adorned with a white silk bow. Her heart raced uncomfortably. She didn’t want to celebrate her birthday. She didn’t want to receive gifts from these people. All she wanted was to shoot arrows and return to bed. Alone.
Lottie dropped her palm to her side, still holding the present. “All right,” she said quietly, “we can open gifts later. Will you not come and eat your birthday cake, at least?”
Eva’s eyes glided past Lottie toward the silver platters on the picnic blanket. The biggest, most chocolatey, three-tiered cake sat like a prized jewel among a bed of white rose petals.
Chocolate cake had been his favourite food.
A choked laugh escaped her lips. “Did Henry ask your staff to make that?”
“He did,” Lottie replied.
“Right,” Eva mumbled. That cake was now enemy number one. Visions of stomping on it flashed in her mind. Maybe that would give her some satisfaction?
“He also tried to get Mrs. Byron to make tacos al pastor,” Lottie continued, “but the recipe proved too difficult. They had difficulty sourcing the ingredients.”
Eva sucked in her lower lip between her teeth. Her heart could not help but clench at the news. No, he left you without a proper explanation, remember? With a curt nod, she picked up the bow from the grass.
“Sorry, but I’ll pass on the cake,” Eva said and turned toward the bullseye. She knew the cake would taste sandy and sour in her mouth. Instead, she would continue shooting arrows. It was the only thing that calmed her stormy mind.
“He has left me too,” Lottie’s voice came loud.
Eva froze.
“I may not show my apprehension for his disappearance, but I, too, am worried sick for my brother. Do not forget that he too left me without a word,” Lottie said.
“I know—”
“Then why do you behave like it is my fault?”
“Because you are his sister—” Eva paused mid-sentence. That did not come out right. With a huff, she dropped the bow again and propped her hands on her hips. “What I mean to say is that everything reminds me of him, and it makes me angry. There was no reason for doing what he did, no reason at all!”
“My brother always has his reasons and I’m positive they are valid ones.”
“No.” Eva shook her head. “Becoming a police snitch isn’t valid. Having to face the darkness on his own isn’t valid. Leaving us here without a word isn’t valid. Whatever his reasons, they are bullshit!”
Lottie’s eyes opened wide.
The sun was hot across Eva’s forehead and beads of sweat trickled down her back. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for acting like a total ass. I’m sorry for saying words that may hurt you. I’m sorry for being someone you’re not familiar with. Jane Edwards was a character, but she was not me,” she said, pointing at her chest. “Sitting here all pretty, eating cake and waiting for something to happen, is not what I do. The fact that your brother knew that and still forced it on me fills me with rage. I’m not sure how much more I can take.”
As Eva watched Lottie struggle with what she had said, her own stupid tears came hot and quick. She growled. Stupid, volatile emotions. Out of all the days, this one was by far the hardest and she no longer knew what to think. She was angry with Henry for not writing about his whereabouts, she was sad to see Lottie’s naive hope for her brother’s well-being slowly crumble, and perhaps most of all, she was upset with herself for moping around like a lost puppy without its master. These feelings were complex. They rattled her brain into a scramble of incohesive thoughts. But if she had learned anything these past few months, it was that she didn’t need to face this alone.
She had friends.
For the first time, she could lean on someone for support and here she was ruining it with her stupid, volatile emotions. A sudden instinct to pull Lottie into her arms overwhelmed her and she did not hesitate to reel the girl in.
Lottie’s head fell into the crook of Eva’s neck. Her little body convulsed with tears. “I do not want to fight with you, Eva.”
Eva’s heart melted.
“My brother loves you dearly,” Lottie sobbed. “So do I.”
“I know,” Eva managed to whisper.
“Must you return to the future?”
“Lottie—”
“You can stay here with us.” Lottie beheld her with large tears marking her cornflower-blue eyes. “We can become sisters, perhaps start a new life … we could take a ship and travel to your country and … and—”
Eva dropped her forehead against Lottie’s. “Please,” she whispered. “Not today. My heart can’t bear it.”
“But he’s so happy.” Lottie’s words were barely audible. “Like he was years ago.”
Every word hit Eva’s heart like a hammer. “Lottie, I’m not going anywhere until he returns.”
“Do you promise me?”
“Yes.”
Eva held Lottie’s hand. It gave her renewed strength and she understood in that moment that, despite her anger, she would do anything to keep Lottie and Henry safe. She would somehow find a way to make the situation better.
A startled gasp came from William. “Somebody is coming,” he said.
Eva’s head snapped up.
A carriage rolled at full speed down the private drive toward Asheford Hall and came to an abrupt halt. The door opened and Elias McKenzie emerged, a solemn expression etched across his face.
Eva’s stomach roiled as she hobbled a few steps before breaking into a sprint across the meadow. Her legs could not take her quickly enough to Elias, and when she reached him, she fell into his arms.
“Where is he?” she breathed.
His expression was icy.
This was not the Elias she knew. Something bad had happened.
She shook his arm. “Why won’t you speak?” she demanded. “Oh, God … what’s happened? Where is Henry?”
“He’s in London,” he said, “and he has sent me to deliver a package for a lass called Evaline. Am I to assume that is you?”
“Wh-what?”
“Are ye Evaline?”
“Yes. How—”
He shoved a wooden box into her hand.
Confusion rippled through her. She glanced back at Lottie and William who looked like they had seen a ghost.
She gripped the box and pulled open the cover to reveal a black satin pouch and a pearly white envelope. She propped the box beneath one arm and tore open the folded letter.
Dear Eva,
In this box, you will find the device. It is my wish for you to use it and return home without further delay. If it does not function, please consider Elias’s proposal. Go to Scotland and never return.
You and I cannot be. That has always been the painful truth.
Goodbye, my rare, exotic bird, I have set you free.
Henry
Eva’s gaze bounced between the black satin pouch and Henry’s immaculate handwriting until her vision grew red with rage.