Through Each Tomorrow, page 15
I couldn’t help it. She was stunning.
Drew elbowed me in the side, and I turned to him. “What?”
“Get out of the carriage.”
“Andrew,” Mrs. Whitney scolded him. “That’s no way to talk to our guest.”
There was a warning in Drew’s eyes, and I knew he’d caught me staring at his sister.
I didn’t like how this felt, and I suddenly had a greater appreciation for how he reacted when I warned him off Cecily.
I exited the carriage and helped Mrs. Whitney and then Evelyn.
As she stepped down next to me, I inhaled a breath of her perfume and every one of my senses ignited.
We entered Chateau-sur-Mer and were presented to Mr. and Mrs. Wetmore. They lived full-time in Newport and were anchors in local society. Though they seemed impressed with my noble title, they did not fawn over me.
The house was full of people I’d met throughout the summer, though most of them were part of the older-money crowd. Mrs. Astor stood in the Wetmores’ massive entrance hall next to Mr. Ward McAllister, one of the self-appointed arbiters of society. He had made Newport a famous summer destination for the wealthiest Americans and was rumored to control the list that Mrs. Astor used to determine her party guests. I’d seen them at the casino and the Fourth of July celebrations, but we’d not been introduced.
“Have you met Mrs. Astor yet?” Mrs. Wetmore asked Mrs. Whitney.
“Not formally, no.” Mrs. Whitney looked unaffected by the question, though I knew it was all that she thought about.
“Let’s change that, shall we?” Mrs. Wetmore smiled as she motioned for Mrs. Whitney and me to follow her.
The Wetmores’ entrance hall was filled with people, and it was hard to maneuver toward Mrs. Astor. We were almost to them when I noticed Helen Whitney speaking to them with Vicomte Deville at her side.
“We will have to arrange a gathering,” Mr. McAllister said to Helen in a southern accent. “I would love to have you and the vicomte to tea one day soon.”
Mrs. Whitney’s body grew tense as Helen glanced at her with triumph. She’d gotten to them before we could.
“Mrs. Astor and Mr. McAllister,” Mrs. Wetmore said, seemingly unaffected by Helen’s presence, “I’d like to introduce you to two more guests.”
The pair turned to us, and Mrs. Astor raised her eyebrow.
“Lord Norfolk,” Mrs. Wetmore said, “may I present Mr. Ward McAllister and Mrs. Caroline Astor?”
I harnessed all the charm I could muster, realizing that I had lost sight of Evelyn before I could put my name on her dance card. It took all my self-control not to scan the room. Instead, I gave my undivided attention to Mr. McAllister and Mrs. Astor. They were, after all, the reason I had come to Newport.
“I am pleased to meet you,” I said as I bowed over Mrs. Astor’s hand and then bowed to Mr. McAllister.
“And this is Mrs. William Whitney,” Mrs. Wetmore continued, “Lord Norfolk’s hostess for the summer.”
“How do you do?” Mrs. Whitney asked, giving a curtsy.
“The pleasure is ours,” Mr. McAllister said as he bowed over her hand. He then turned to me. “I do hope you’re enjoying our Newport summer, Lord Norfolk. I had hoped we could meet, sooner rather than later.”
“It’s been a lovely time,” I assured him.
“Carrie told me she met you at the outing to the fort,” Mrs. Astor said. “I do hope you have a chance to dance with her tonight”—she motioned to Vicomte Deville—“both of you, of course.”
“I will find her immediately and ask for a dance.” I bowed again, wanting to find Evelyn even more. “I hope you’ll excuse me.”
Freshly cut flowers perfumed the air as a five-piece orchestra played soft music in the ornate, three-story ballroom. The sound lifted toward the stained-glass windows high above the room.
Within moments, I was surrounded by young women and their doting mothers, all of them making introductions and asking me to fill their dance cards. I was forced to oblige, trying to keep at least one dance open for Evelyn.
As I took a card to fill in my name, I got a peek at Evelyn through the crowd. I hurriedly wrote my name and then said, “If you’ll excuse me.”
There were disappointed murmurs as I pushed my way through the crowd, ignoring the greetings of others, and approached Evelyn.
She was surrounded by a handful of men. Her cheeks were bright pink as she smiled at one man after the other.
Jealousy wound its way around my heart and choked any goodwill I felt for these gentlemen. If they had taken all her dances, I would not be pleased.
As she turned from one man to the next, her blue eyes caught on me and lit up with pleasure. “Charles.”
My heart pounded hard at that look. I tried to see her between the shoulders of the men in front of me. “May I have a dance, Evelyn?”
She looked at her card and frowned.
“Two would be preferred,” I said to a round of disapproval from the other men.
“I only have one to give,” she said. “The waltz right before supper.”
“I’ll take it.”
Time crawled along as I waited for the waltz. I danced first with Carrie Astor and then several others, but it was hard to focus on my partners when I couldn’t keep my eyes off Evelyn.
Every time we passed one another, our gazes collided, and the tension in my stomach tightened. When it was finally time for our waltz, I approached her on the dance floor, every nerve in my body alive with awareness, and without a word, I took her hand and drew her into my arms.
Her breath caught as she looked up at me, but she came willingly and, I hoped, with as much anticipation.
“The music hasn’t started, my lord,” she whispered as we stood face-to-face, her hand in mine and my other hand around her waist.
“I didn’t want to miss a moment with you.”
The first strains of the waltz began as others found their partners, and we started to dance.
“My mother will be so pleased that we waltzed together,” she said.
“Are you pleased, Evelyn?”
Her body was closer than necessary as we moved across the floor, but she didn’t pull back or put space between us.
“Very,” she breathed.
I inhaled the soft scent of her perfume, wishing this moment would never end, longing to be the Earl of Norfolk in this path. What would she think when she learned the truth? Would she understand because she was a time-crosser? Or would she never speak to me again, knowing that I had tried to deceive her and her mother, not to mention all the other people in Newport?
“Will you sit with me at supper?” I asked her.
“Are you not tired of me?” she teased. “We see each other all the time. Perhaps you want to sit with Isabel Reinhold or Carrie Astor.”
There was a slight edge to her voice, and I wondered, again, if she was jealous.
I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter. Because I wasn’t who I said I was, and even if I were, I might not stay in 1883.
Suddenly, I wanted her to know me—the real me, just as I wanted to know her. But it meant I would need to risk everything.
Moments before the song ended, I asked, “May I take you outside? I have something I want to tell you.”
“Of course.”
We stopped dancing, and I led her toward one of the tall sets of French doors. There were so many people that no one paid attention when we slipped outside.
The air was much cooler as we stepped onto the manicured yard. The moon was full and bright, creating moon shadows on the lawn.
We walked to a stone railing and leaned against it.
My pulse was erratic as I thought about what I was going to tell Evelyn. The only way she might trust me with her past was if I told her about mine. And, to do that, I would need to be honest about this one, too.
Behind us, the music from the orchestra drifted out to the lawn, creating a cocoon of gilded warmth. Thankfully, there was no one else outside. What I had to say needed to be kept private.
“What did you want to tell me?” she asked.
I took a deep breath, knowing there was no going back now. “It’s about my other path.”
She turned to me. “You don’t need to, Charles. I, more than anyone, understand how difficult it is to live two lives. You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“My other path is 1563,” I said, not allowing myself to back down. “And it’s there that I’m Charles Pembrooke, the 2nd Earl of Norfolk.”
Evelyn didn’t speak as she studied me, though her expression was wary. “And who are you here?”
“I’m Charles Hollingsworth.” I allowed my accent to slip into the Virginia cadence I’d adopted in this path. “My father, Nathanial, was a time-crosser. He was a Confederate soldier in the American Civil War and died when I was only six, but his father taught me about my time-crossing gift. I grew up on a farm where my father was a successful horse breeder until we lost everything in the war, and I now live there with my widowed sister, Ada, and our mama, Meredith.”
There. I’d said it.
Her expression didn’t change. “You’re not an earl here?”
“No. But in 1563 I am, and I’m also a member of the privy council for Queen Elizabeth. I’m currently at Windsor Castle because there is a plague outbreak in London. Andrew and I grew up together at my castle in Arundel, and that’s how we met. I asked him to go to Windsor to care for the queen, who is ill. In exchange, he asked me to come here and pose as the Earl of Norfolk for your mother’s benefit. He is also trying to get your father to invest in my family’s horse farm.”
Evelyn wrapped her arms around herself and paced to the end of the railing.
My throat tightened with uncertainty. But I couldn’t live with myself if I continued to deceive her. She deserved so much better.
“You lied to me,” she said just above a whisper without turning back.
Letting out a breath, I took a step toward her. “I’m sorry, Evelyn.”
“I can’t abide lies or deceit, Charles.” She hugged her waist, the weight of her pain rounding her shoulders. “I told you I was hurt by someone I trusted.”
“I never meant to hurt you—truly.” I took another step, afraid she would slip away from me, desperate to convince her. “That’s why I’m telling you now. I didn’t want the lies to continue.”
“You’re not the only one to blame. I’m just as disappointed in Drew.”
There was nothing I could say to defend myself or Drew. Evelyn had every right to be angry and disappointed.
“I’ll understand if you—”
“I know how difficult it is to be a time-crosser, Charles.” She finally turned to face me, pain and anger still fresh in her eyes. “And I understand why you’ve done what you’ve done. But you still tried to deceive me.”
“Please forgive me.” It was all I could ask.
“If anyone else learns the truth, it would ruin our family.” She walked back to me. “Mother must never know.”
“I won’t tell her.” It took all my willpower not to reach out to her while she was standing this close. “Can you forgive me, Evelyn? I care too much for you to hate me.”
She studied me in the moonlight, and I could see the war waging in her mind and heart. Finally, she said, “I could never hate you, Charles.”
“It breaks my heart what happened to you,” I told her as I put my hand on her cheek. It was as soft as I imagined. “And the last thing I want to do is add to your pain.”
“Are you staying in 1563?”
“I’m not sure what I’m doing yet.”
Evelyn took a step back, leaning against the railing as she faced the ballroom. “Someone I once loved told me whatever I wanted to hear to get what he wanted. He made me believe that I was in love with him, and I did unspeakable things because of it.” She turned her head to look at me. “I like you, Charles, but I’ve already tried to manipulate God’s plan for my life, and I won’t do it again. If you are called to 1563, then you must do everything in your power to ensure that you end up there without harming anyone in your path.”
“Drew believes I should leave Newport after the tennis fundraiser, and I think he’s right.”
She looked back at the ballroom, and I could see a dozen emotions passing over her beautiful face. “It’s probably for the best.”
I took a step closer to her, knowing that we didn’t have much time left. “I really do hope you can forgive me. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. It’s why I told you now, so you wouldn’t find out another way.”
She pressed her lips together for a moment and then let out a breath. “I won’t pretend that I’m not upset. But if anyone knows how complex and difficult it is to be a time-crosser, it’s me.”
And with that, she slipped her hand around my elbow and led me back to the ballroom.
13
CECILY
JULY 25, 1563
WINDSOR CASTLE
The jousting tournament had been planned for weeks, but with the queen’s ongoing illness, many had suggested canceling it. When the queen heard the rumors, she ordered Kat to tell the castle to continue with the plans. Even if she couldn’t attend, she wanted others to enjoy the entertainment and communicate to the world that there was nothing wrong. She had commanded Lord Burghley, her Lord High Treasurer, to be the presiding noble. He sat on a raised dais and reigned over the tournament.
Hundreds of courtiers, servants, and guards stood or sat in the Lower Ward near the tiltyards, where the jousting took place. Events such as this one were usually held during wedding feasts or when dignitaries visited, but with the ongoing plague still ravaging London, we were cloistered in the castle with little to break up the monotony of the days. A jousting tournament was exactly what everyone needed.
The day was overcast, but the rain had held off as we watched various noblemen compete for favors from the queen’s ladies in waiting. Throughout the day, the winners had been given scarves, ribbons, and veils, and the queen had ordered that the best jouster be given a gold ring from her collection. That evening, we would have a feast in the Great Hall.
“Do you joust, my lord?” I asked Lord Wolverton, who sat next to me in the stands.
Aveline sat on my other side. Because the queen was bedridden, our efforts to convince her that my cousin would be a good maid of honour had stalled. So Aveline, like everyone else, was looking for ways to pass the time.
My only consolation was that there were no other maidens gaining the queen’s favor. It gave us more time to prepare Aveline.
“No.” Lord Wolverton shook his head. “I do not joust. There is enough danger living along the Scottish border. Why increase the odds of injury or death to try to prove my strength or courage?”
“Is there any entertainment to be had at Alnwick Castle?” I asked, trying not to sound gloomy.
“Do you require entertainment, Lady Cecily?”
I had to think about that for a moment. I’d had it all my life. I couldn’t imagine not enjoying a bit of entertainment from time to time. “I do not require it,” I said, “but I enjoy it when it’s available.”
He pursed his lips in disapproval.
“There is no entertainment at your home, my lord?” Aveline asked.
“When others insist upon it,” he told her, “but if I had my way, we would not waste time, money, or energy on anything that did not serve a purpose.”
“Entertainment serves a great purpose,” I countered. “Life is full of difficulties and hardships. Entertainment exists to ease those challenges, if just for a moment. To help us forget about the ongoing troubles that surround us, and to make us laugh and smile and cheer. I propose that it is an essential part of life.”
“Then we have differing opinions.” He crossed his arms. “It will be something you’ll need to work on.”
“If you are trying to convince me to marry you and travel to the ends of nowhere,” I said, my voice a bit dry, “perhaps you should make that life sound more pleasing.”
“I do not wish to make it sound unappealing.” He uncrossed his arms. “But I want to be realistic, so you know what to expect.”
“Is there no ability to change how things are done at Alnwick Castle?” Aveline interrupted, no doubt trying to ease the tension between me and Lord Wolverton as two jousters entered the lists, the field in which they would compete. One of them was Charles. His match was the last of the day and highly anticipated by all the spectators.
Lord Wolverton squinted as he watched the jousters mount their horses. “I suppose I could be persuaded, if Lady Cecily had enough evidence to support her case. I am nothing if not reasonable.”
Aveline smiled and nodded encouragement at me, but I had to press my lips together to keep from responding. Though Lord Wolverton was kind, he was also very opinionated and hardheaded. Reasonable was not a trait I would have assigned to him.
Charles was in his full armor with the Norfolk Crest on his shield. He was a crowd favorite, and many of the ladies fluttered their scarves at him to gain his attention as he paraded in front of the stands. He waved at the noblewomen, creating a round of enthusiastic chatter.
And though I enjoyed entertainment, jousting was not my favorite. I had watched Charles joust most of my life and hated it every time. The idea of two men galloping toward each other with ten-foot wooden lances pointed at their opponent was ridiculous. It was designed to show strength, bravery, and fighting skills, but in my mind, it was only for pride.
Charles did look handsome and strong on his horse, wielding the family crest. I could only shake my head and hope and pray that God would keep him safe. What would his Evelyn think if she saw him now? Would she be like the simpering noblewomen, trying to gain his attention? Or was she serious and withdrawn? It was the first time I’d wondered about the kind of woman who could capture his attention.
Andrew stood on the side of the tiltyards, ready to assist should the worst happen. I’d seen many men injured over the years, some dying from their wounds. Even King Henry VIII had been seriously injured during a jousting match, creating problems for years to come.
