Through Each Tomorrow, page 12
There was little I could do about the inheritance question while I was in Newport, so I turned my thoughts to Evelyn, wanting to give her my full attention. I had enjoyed her company at the picnic, but we hadn’t had any time alone to talk about the fundraiser. That morning at breakfast, she’d asked if I was still interested in playing a game of tennis at the Newport Casino.
She appeared at the top of the steps, wearing a blue-and-white-striped day dress with a bustle at the back and blue pearl buttons down the bodice. It was a little shorter than her other gowns, allowing her leather shoes to peek out from beneath her hem. She wore a straw boater with a blue band around the crown, and her blond hair was pinned up in a low bun at the nape of her slender neck.
But it was her smile that made her ensemble so stunning. It had been missing for the first part of my visit. Now I couldn’t get enough of it. Her cheeks were pink as she met my gaze, and I was certain I was doing a poor job of hiding my reaction to her.
“Are you ready, my lord?” she asked.
I smiled and offered her my arm. “I thought I asked you to call me Charles.”
As she slipped her delicate hand around my elbow, her smile fell. “I call you ‘my lord’ to remind myself that, despite your reassurance, you are still an aristocrat, and I promised myself never to be deceived again.”
Her words were sobering and reminded me that this wasn’t a simple summer flirtation, and I was deceiving her, though perhaps not how she assumed.
I opened the door, and we stepped into the sunshine. Without another word, I assisted Evelyn into the waiting carriage, and we sat across from one another as it pulled out of the drive.
“May I ask what happened?” I asked cautiously, wanting to address her earlier comment.
She clasped her hands and took so long to answer, I was afraid she wouldn’t trust me with the truth. Finally, she said, “Someone I cared very deeply about deceived me. Sometimes I fear the damage to my heart is irreparable.”
“I’m sorry.” The memory of seeing her with Baby Laura had replayed in my mind several times over the past couple of days.
“You did nothing wrong, though I confess I am struggling to believe that you are helping me with the fundraiser with no ulterior motives.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I remained silent as I looked out the window.
“You are nothing like him,” she said after a moment.
I returned my gaze to her and found her studying me.
“You took the time to ask what mattered to me. He never did. All he was interested in was himself, and in the end, his actions spoke louder than his words. It took the greatest sadness of my life to finally understand that my heart is mine alone to guard, and I realized I needed to do a much better job.”
Anger for a man I’d never met continued to increase. “A real man guards the heart of the woman he loves,” I said, unable to hide my feelings. “I don’t know who he was, but not all men are as heartless and cruel.”
She slowly nodded. “I know.”
We were soon at the Newport Casino, and I helped Evelyn step out of the carriage. It was Friday, so the casino was busier than usual. We entered the paneled foyer and placed our names on the waitlist for a tennis court, then asked to speak to the proprietor, Mr. Bennett, who also owned the New York Herald. He was a prominent figure in Newport society and spent his summers operating the casino.
Evelyn and I waited outside his office for several minutes before he could be located, and when he finally arrived, he was gregarious and hospitable.
“Welcome to the Newport Casino,” he said as he shook my hand and slapped my back. He had a thick mustache that curled on the ends and blue eyes that were almost translucent. “I’m James Gordon Bennett, Jr. It’s a pleasure to have you with us, Lord Norfolk.”
“The pleasure is mine.”
After I introduced him to Evelyn, we went into his office.
“What can I do for you?” Mr. Bennett asked as we took the seats across from his large desk.
“Miss Whitney and I are eager to help the local orphanage on School Street,” I said. “Currently, there is not enough staff or money to maintain it properly.”
“I wasn’t aware that there was an orphanage in Newport,” Mr. Bennett said as he nodded and then waited for me to continue.
“We thought it would be helpful to host a fundraiser for them, not only to earn money but to bring more awareness to their plight.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Mr. Bennett said. “But I’ve already given my quota to charity this year.”
“We are not looking for your money,” Evelyn explained. “We are hoping to host a lawn tennis tournament here in August and allow the proceeds to benefit the Newport Home for Friendless Children.”
Realization dawned on Mr. Bennett’s face. “Ah, I see now. But I’m afraid August would be a difficult month. We’re hosting the third annual US Lawn Tennis Championship August 4 through 8. I do not believe we could successfully host two large tournaments back-to-back. I’m sorry. Perhaps next year, we could plan for June or July.” He began to rise as if the conversation was over.
But I wasn’t ready to concede. The orphanage needed money before next summer.
More importantly, I didn’t want to disappoint Evelyn.
“Perhaps we don’t host a tournament,” I suggested, “but a charity event before the championship begins. A game with a local citizen playing against the reigning champion from last year’s tournament, all in good fun and sportsmanship. We could host a dinner and dance afterward, right here at the casino.”
“And we would not ask you to do a thing,” Evelyn added quickly, “just provide the space.”
Mr. Bennett squinted and ran his hand over his mustache, clearly taking our proposition into consideration.
Evelyn was on the edge of her seat as she waited, and I hoped and prayed Mr. Bennett would agree—not only for the orphanage’s sake, but for her sake. I couldn’t imagine how helpless it would feel to have a baby at an orphanage.
“I think it’s a splendid plan,” Mr. Bennett finally said. “I will speak to Mr. Sears, the champion from last year, and see if he would agree. If not, I’m sure we can get another player from this year’s roster to compete against a local citizen.”
“Could I propose the local citizen?” Evelyn asked. “Or, at least a visitor to Newport?”
Mr. Bennett smiled at Evelyn. “Lord Norfolk?”
“Yes.” She beamed at me. “I’ve heard he’s quite talented.”
“Why not?” Mr. Bennett said. “I think we’ll draw a bigger crowd to the charity event if we have an earl playing our national champion.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” I didn’t want to draw that much attention.
“Please,” Evelyn said as she put her hand on my arm.
I was afraid I would be unable to say no to her again, so I quickly gave her an alternative idea. “Perhaps we host a small tournament among the local men to see who plays Mr. Sears? A week or so before the national championship.”
“Only if you promise me that you’ll compete in the smaller tournament.” Her smile was so brilliant and hopeful, I found myself agreeing to her request.
When we left the meeting, we walked out of the building and onto the back lawn. There were several courts, side by side, and we had one at the end. Evelyn was beaming, and I couldn’t hide my pleasure at her happiness. I’d never felt anything so satisfying.
“Lord Norfolk!” Isabel called to us, waving her tennis racket from the court where she and a young man played together. Mr. and Mrs. Reinhold sat nearby under an umbrella with another older couple.
I didn’t want to share the moment with anyone else, but it would be rude to ignore Isabel, so I smiled and veered off-course to greet her.
Evelyn followed.
“How wonderful to see you again,” Isabel said as we joined her and the man playing tennis with her. “Lord Norfolk, this is Mr. Morgan Brent, an old family friend from Virginia.” Her accent had deepened. “Morgan, this is Lord Charles Pembrooke, the Earl of Norfolk, and Miss Evelyn Whitney.”
“Ah,” Mr. Brent said with the ease of an aristocrat as he shook my hand, “so this is my competition.”
Isabel’s cheeks filled with color as she lowered her eyes.
His competition? Did she think I was competing for her affection?
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Brent.” I accepted his handshake, trying to lessen the awkward moment.
He squeezed my hand harder than necessary, so I returned the gesture in kind.
Evelyn’s gaze slid between me and Isabel, uncertainty drawing her inward again.
She and I had made so much progress, I didn’t want to lose ground.
“It was nice to see you,” I said to Isabel as I put my hand on Evelyn’s lower back, “but Evelyn and I should start our game.”
“How about a doubles match?” Mr. Brent suggested, swinging his racket as if he was serving a ball. “Isabel and me against you and Miss Whitney.”
I started to decline, but Evelyn said, “I think that’s a splendid idea.”
“You’ve never seen me play,” I teased her.
“You’ve never seen me play,” she countered with a waggish smile.
I was starting to see some of the old spark in Evelyn that Drew had mentioned—and I liked it.
“We accept,” I said with a grin.
After finding our rackets and tennis balls, Evelyn and I took our positions on one side of the net. Lawn tennis was like the game of real tennis in 1563, but I was more skilled at this version than the other. The rackets were bigger, the balls bounced higher, and the court was smaller. It was also played on grass as opposed to stone.
Mr. Brent served, and Evelyn easily hit the ball back into their half of the court. It was a marvel to watch both her and Isabel play in their full dresses, not only because it was hot, but because it couldn’t be easy for them to maneuver. It was much the same for women at Windsor Castle.
As we played, I couldn’t help but admire Evelyn’s form and her effortless handling of the racket. She had a beautiful backswing, and she was naturally athletic.
Isabel was no match for Evelyn, and that soon became evident as Mr. Brent hit most of their shots.
Evelyn and I played well together, anticipating the ball, moving aside for one or the other with little communication. When we scored, she offered me the most brilliant smile, and when we lost a point, she squared her shoulders and returned her focus to the game.
In the end, we easily beat our opponents.
I shook Mr. Brent’s hand.
“We’ll need a rematch, of course,” he said.
“Of course.” I smiled congenially.
“I’ll be in town for the next couple of weeks,” he added, his chin lifted. “My parents have taken the rooms adjoining the Reinholds’ at the Ocean House.”
“It was such a surprise,” Isabel said. “I had no idea the Brents were coming to Newport.”
“I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of you.” I toweled off my face and neck, guessing that Mr. Brent had come to woo Isabel.
“We run into Lord Norfolk all the time,” Isabel told Mr. Brent. “He’s been a delightful companion.”
“I’m sure he has,” Mr. Brent said.
I ran the towel over the back of my head as Evelyn came up beside me. I glanced at her to smile, but her face had turned pale.
Instead of returning my smile, her eyes swam with dozens of questions, and I somehow felt guilty.
Frowning, I scanned the casino lawn, but nothing seemed unusual or out of place. “Is everything all right?”
She swallowed and said, “Excuse me,” then left the court without looking back.
“I’m sorry.” I laid my towel on a nearby chair as I left Isabel and Mr. Brent to follow Evelyn.
I jogged off the court, nodding at the Reinholds and their guests as they sat in the gallery, and entered the cool interior of the Newport Casino.
Evelyn sat on a sofa in one of the corners, a large fern almost blocking her from view.
When I approached, she stood, her hand on her forehead.
“What’s wrong?”
She lowered her hand and shook her head. “Everything is fine.”
“No.” I led her to the couch. “Tell me what happened.”
Her hands trembled as she tried to clutch them on her lap. “It’s—” She swallowed and took a breath. “Your mark—on the back of your head.”
My hand went to my time-crossing birthmark. It was usually hidden under my hair. Had she seen it while I was toweling off the sweat? Was she familiar with Drew’s? Did she know what it meant?
I slowly lowered my hand. “Perhaps we should take a walk for a bit of privacy.”
We left the casino’s front door and stepped onto Bellevue Avenue. Without thinking, I led her to the north toward Touro Park.
“Do you know what the mark means?” I asked her.
Evelyn bit her bottom lip for a moment before asking, “What other time do you occupy?”
“1563.”
“And how much time do you have left to choose?”
“My twenty-fifth birthday is next March.”
We walked side by side down Bellevue. I wanted to offer her my arm, but I kept my distance, suspecting that she needed space to process the information.
“Which path will you choose?” she asked quietly.
I let out a long breath and watched the carriages as they passed. “I was going to choose this path—but my stepsister, Cecily, is in 1563 and she needs me. She is also a time-crosser, but she unexpectedly lost her other path and is stuck there. I need to find her a husband before March, or I must stay to take care of her.”
She nodded slowly, as if she was trying to take it all in.
“Drew never told you that I’m a time-crosser?” I asked.
Evelyn’s head came up quickly as she came to a stop, a frown etched deep into her forehead. “Drew is a time-crosser?”
I stared at her, confused. “You didn’t know?”
We had just arrived at Touro Park, and there was a bench nearby. Evelyn went to it and took a seat, staring straight ahead. “Drew is a time-crosser?” she asked again, almost to herself.
I joined her on the bench. “He never told you?”
“No.” She finally looked at me, so much confusion in her eyes. “Drew spent much of his childhood at boarding schools, and when we were together, it was all very formal.”
“You’ve never noticed his mark?”
“No.” Evelyn shook her head. “I can’t believe my brother is a time-crosser and I didn’t know it.”
Realization suddenly came over me. “Then how do you know what the mark on the back of my head means?”
Evelyn slowly lifted her gaze, and I could see the truth written all over her face.
“Are you a time-crosser, Evelyn?”
Her hand came up and rested over her chest. “My mark is here.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant. I’d only ever known time-crossers with a mark on the back of their heads. Me, my father, Cecily, and Drew all had marks just above our hairline.
She slowly lowered her hand. “Time-crossers with the mark on their chests only get twenty-one years to decide.”
“And when is your twenty-first birthday?”
“August 31.”
I blinked a few times, unsure how to process what she was saying. “You will need to make your final decision next month. Are you leaving here?”
Evelyn shook her head as she looked at her hands, grief and heartbreak sloping her shoulders. “Just like your sister, Cecily, I lost my other path without warning. I will remain in this path for the rest of my life.”
I suddenly understood the depth of her sadness—at least part of it. “When was your other path?”
Tears gathered in Evelyn’s eyes, and she stood. “I don’t want to talk about it, Charles, and please don’t ask again.”
“Evelyn.” I reached for her, but she pulled away.
“Perhaps we should go tell the Flanderses about the fundraiser.” She wiped her tears. “I don’t want to think about my other path. Not now—and not ever again.” She continued to walk toward the north, but stopped when she realized I wasn’t following.
“Evelyn—”
“Please don’t ask.” She pressed her lips together. “I died in my other path, and it no longer matters who I was there.”
“How long ago?” I asked. “Will you tell me that much?”
She let out a heavy breath. “Last October.”
I thought about what she’d told me about last October. “Around the time that you saw the children in the orphanage? In New York City?”
She looked away from me. “I couldn’t tell you the whole story before. Yes, I saw the children, and it had a profound effect on me. But it wasn’t the only thing that had broken my heart. That was the same day I realized I had died in my other path. All of it came crashing down at the same time, and the only thing that has brought me joy since then is helping at the orphanage.”
“I’m sorry.” I wished I could offer more. “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve endured.”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded, but then she said, “Until now, I didn’t think there were any other time-crossers in this path with me. Now I find out that both you and Drew are time-crossers.” She let out a breath. “You would think it would bring me comfort—but I know how difficult it is to live two lives, and it only makes me sad.”
“Please don’t worry about me,” I said, feeling an inexplicable bond with Evelyn—and a desire to ease her pain.
She nodded and slipped her hand around my elbow. “Will you come with me to the orphanage? I don’t want to think about our other lives anymore. I want to focus on this one.”
“Of course.”
When we arrived at the orphanage, several of the children were playing outside, and they greeted her like they had before. She smiled for them, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes today.
