Through Each Tomorrow, page 22
I dipped my head in deference to him and then left his side to find Kat.
She was not in the hall, and one of the maids said that she had been called back to the Privy Chamber at the queen’s behest.
It was probably better this way. It was the queen I needed to speak to, and Kat was the person who might give me access.
I tried to hold my head high as I walked along the darkened corridors of Windsor Castle, away from the light and the lively music in St. George’s Hall. But tears began to prick the backs of my eyes as I faced the reality of what I was about to do. Whether I agreed to marry Lord Wolverton or some other aristocrat, it mattered not to me. If I could not have the man I wanted, then all I needed was a good man who would treat me well and ensure my protection.
It was as simple as that.
Dim wall sconces offered just enough light for me to see my way to the queen’s apartment. There was no one in the halls, and I preferred it that way.
When I arrived at the Presence Chamber, the ushers let me pass without comment, and I entered the Privy Chamber.
It was rare to find the room empty, though I could hear voices in the queen’s bedchamber, so I knew there were people attending Her Majesty. She was never alone, not only for safety’s sake, but to protect her reputation and because she didn’t like to be by herself.
The door opened, and Andrew appeared, wiping his hands on a clean cloth.
He paused and then slowly closed the bedchamber door.
“I did not expect to see you here,” he said.
My chest rose and fell on deep breaths. It was hard enough to know what I was about to do, but then to face Andrew, unexpectedly, made it even harder. “I came to speak to Her Majesty.”
A frown marred his forehead. “She has not allowed an audience in weeks. What makes you think she’ll see you now?”
“I have an important question for her that cannot wait.” I tried to stay calm as my emotions tore at my heart. “And all I need is a simple yes or no.”
He stared at me, and I could see the uncertainty in his eyes. “What do you need to ask her?”
I pressed my trembling lips together, knowing that I did not owe him an answer but wanting desperately for him to stop me. “I must ask for her permission to marry Lord Wolverton.”
Silence filled the Privy Chamber as we stood facing one another, and though we were only a few feet apart, obligations, expectations, and centuries divided us.
“If I marry him, Charles will be free to stay in 1883 to rebuild his farm and care for his mama and sister—and, perhaps—” I paused to swallow—“marry the woman he loves.”
“Has he demanded this of you?” Andrew clenched the rag in his hands.
“No. I am approaching the queen of my own free will.”
A war waged within Andrew, playing out on his face, and for a heartbeat, I thought he would deny my request to speak to the queen. Hope budded to life in my heart.
But then something flickered in his gaze. Acceptance? Resignation? Surrender?
He slowly lowered his eyes and took a sidestep away from the queen’s bedchamber door.
“I will not stand in your way,” he said just above a whisper, and then he strode out of the Privy Chamber without a backward glance, leaving me alone and bereft.
I closed my eyes as my heart broke into a million little pieces, and the weight of the grief I’d been carrying for months flooded my soul again.
Yet, I refused to cry, knowing that if I started, I might not stop, and that was the worst feeling in the world.
Instead, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes to face the reality set before me.
If I had learned anything, it was that I was strong and capable, and even if it felt like God had abandoned me, Mama and Papa had taught me that He never left my side. My life wasn’t a surprise to Him, and the obstacles He’d placed in my path were there for a reason. I didn’t know why God would allow me to love Andrew, but I also didn’t know why He chose for me to lose 1913, or why Aveline had lost her parents, or why the queen was so ill. Trusting God didn’t mean I wouldn’t have heartache, but it did mean that I needed to lean on Him and follow the path He had laid before me.
With a heavy heart, I knocked on the bedchamber door.
Kat answered it a moment later, concern on her face. “What is it, Lady Cecily?”
“May I have an audience with Her Majesty? I have one simple question and only require a yes-or-no response.”
She was not blind, and she had a finger on the castle’s pulse like no other, so I knew that Kat wouldn’t need me to explain.
With a sigh, she stepped aside and said, “Her Majesty is feeling a little better today. But please be brief and do not debate with her if she refuses to speak to you.”
I nodded as I stepped into the dark interior.
Queen Elizabeth was on her bed, propped up with several pillows all around her and a blanket over her body. Her red hair was in a simple braid, and her pockmarked face was devoid of makeup. It was swollen, as were her hands, which held an embroidery hoop. When I entered, she looked up in surprise.
“Lady Cecily,” she said. “I hope you do not bring bad news. Doctor Bromley has assured me that your brother is doing well.”
“He is, Your Majesty.” My voice quivered with emotion, despite my earlier resolve, as I gave a low curtsy. “It does my heart good to see you again.”
She lowered the embroidery hoop to her lap. “Why have you come?”
I slowly rose to face her, knowing that once my request was made and her response was given, there was no going back. Yet, what choice did I have?
“I have come to ask your permission—” I swallowed the nerves racing up my throat.
“My permission for what?” she asked impatiently.
“To marry Lord Wolverton, Your Majesty,” I said quickly before I changed my mind.
“Ah.” She was quiet for a moment, and then said gently, “Is this what you want, Cecily?”
I pressed my lips together and clasped my hands. “’Tis what I need that matters more.”
“Aye.” She let out a weary sigh. “We rarely get what we want.”
I didn’t answer, since there was no point.
“You could do little better,” she continued. “He is wealthy and loyal to the throne. I think your stepbrother has done well in choosing Lord Wolverton for your match.”
It wasn’t quite permission, but almost, so I looked up at her. “Are you granting permission, Your Majesty?”
“Come here.” She motioned for me to join her and patted the bed.
I glanced at Kat, who raised her eyebrows. Neither of us often saw the queen’s tender, motherly side.
“Leave us, Kat,” the queen said.
Kat did as she was told, and I approached the queen’s bed, tentatively lowering onto the mattress to face her.
Her brown eyes searched mine. “You’re in love with Doctor Bromley, are you not?”
My lips parted in surprise.
“Because he is in love with you,” she said matter-of-factly.
I briefly closed my eyes as tears stung them once again.
“Listen closely,” she said as she put her hand over mine and made me look at her. “Love is fickle and untrustworthy. It does not last, and it offers no protection or guarantee. My mother loved my father, and he beheaded her.” Her voice was fierce as she spoke. “If Doctor Bromley was a nobleman and he had a home to offer to you, I would tell you to marry him—for those reasons alone. I would not take into consideration that he loved you. That would be a secondary bonus. But he has none of those things, so he is not an option. Love is not enough for a woman of your position.”
I nodded, unable to use my voice.
“Marry Lord Wolverton and move as far away from Doctor Bromley as possible,” she continued. “Then, and only then, will you find peace.”
Queen Elizabeth was speaking from experience, as I knew she loved Lord Robert and kept him close at hand. His presence rarely brought her peace and often resulted in difficulties I couldn’t begin to understand.
“You have my permission,” she said. “Now, go and start to make plans. I’m certain Lord Wolverton is eager to leave Windsor. I will pray that I am well enough to attend your wedding.”
My legs felt weak and heavy as I stood and curtsied before leaving her bedchamber.
Kat looked up from her needlework as soon as I entered the Privy Chamber, a question in her eyes.
“She has granted permission.” I choked on the words.
Setting aside her embroidery, Kat joined me in the middle of the room. “He is a good man. He will do right by you.”
I nodded, unable to speak past the emotions in my throat.
“How is your brother?” she asked quietly. “Doctor Bromley tells me he has regained his memory. Are all his correspondences in order?”
Again, I could do nothing but nod.
“You may leave.” Kat returned to her needlework, dismissing me.
I was tired of feeling used and discarded, of being a second thought to everyone.
God included.
18
CHARLES
JULY 27, 1883
NEWPORT, RHODE ISLAND
I didn’t have an appetite that morning, so I skipped breakfast and found myself in the dim library instead. Gray clouds hovered low over the ocean, and a misting rain made rivulets of water run down the windowpanes at Midcliff. I stood at the window, watching the Atlantic roll toward the cliffs in massive waves, my mind filled with all the problems I faced in both paths.
My time in Newport was quickly coming to an end, making me both relieved and anxious. Thankfully, my memory had come back in 1563, and Cecily had been available to help me continue my work. I should have concentrated on the plague that devastated London or the succession issue and who would sit on the throne. But no matter how hard I tried, I could think of little else but Evelyn.
Cecily had been quiet and withdrawn all day. Her melancholy, and the way she had treated Drew when he came to my apartment, confirmed that something had happened between them. Drew had stayed with me after Cecily had gone to supper, but then he’d left to check on the queen and not returned to my bedchamber before I had fallen asleep. I was eager to find out how the queen’s health was faring and to ask him about Cecily. While I had resolved to let it go, I wanted to know if I needed to be concerned.
At least, more concerned than I already was.
“I was wondering where I might find you.” Evelyn appeared at the library door.
My heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. I would never tire of the way she looked at me. All I wanted was to be near her, to ease the longing within me. To see her face and hear her voice. The desire thrilled me and scared me at the same time.
She was wearing a simple gray gown, but it was fashionable and fit her perfectly. She stood out amongst the dark wood paneling and shelves of books.
“I kept waiting for you at breakfast.” She entered the room and joined me by the window. “Drew didn’t come down, either, so I ate alone.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, pleased that she had wanted to see me, too. “I didn’t have an appetite.”
Concern slanted her brow. “Is something bothering you?”
I smiled at the question as I considered all the things that were bothering me in both paths—yet they somehow slipped from my mind when I was with her.
“Congressman Reinhold?” she asked.
“Among other things.”
“You can tell me, Charles. I might not know how to ease your burdens, but I would love to try. You’ve done so much to help me.”
I had told her little about my other path out of habit. It was best not to share, to risk changing history—yet I wanted to tell Evelyn. She was the first person I longed to trust with both my lives.
She took my hand and gently led me to a set of chairs in the corner of the room. She was about to sit down, but I didn’t let go of her hand, and she was forced to stop and turn to me. “What?” she asked.
“I want to tell you,” I said. “For the first time in my life, I want to tell someone—you—everything. But it scares me, Evelyn.”
She still held my hand as she moved closer. “Why?”
Her eyes were so wide and beautiful as she stood close to me. My heart pounded with certainty that I loved her, but that also terrified me. I had never loved someone the way I loved her, and I wasn’t sure what I would do without her.
“It scares me, because I’m afraid that I will bare my heart and soul to you, but you won’t feel safe to tell me about your past.”
Her eyes clouded over, and she began to pull away, but I held her hand and grasped the other one. “I know it frightens you, too, Evelyn. Sharing our pain requires us to be vulnerable, because we don’t want to be hurt anymore.”
“It’s not that.” She shook her head. “I know the past can’t hurt me, but if you knew what I’ve done . . .” She swallowed and gently removed her hands from mine. “I don’t think you’d look at me the same way again, Charles, and that’s something I couldn’t bear. Right now, you see me as innocent and loving—but if you knew—”
“I do know.”
Her lips parted as she frowned. “How could you possibly know?”
“I know Laura is your baby.”
Her frown disappeared as an incredulous look came over her face. “What?”
“I put all the pieces together. Drew said that you changed drastically about a year and a half ago, and with the way you despised me when you met me, I realized that someone had broken your heart. And when I saw you with Laura—not only does she look like you, but you care so much for her, and you’re doing so much for the orphanage. It all makes sense.”
She took a step back, the incredulity gone, replaced with pain. “Laura is not my baby.”
It was my turn to frown.
“The reason I help at the orphanage is not because I got into trouble in this path.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “It has nothing to do with this path. Everything I do in 1883 is driven out of my pain and guilt from my other life. And no matter how much penance I serve, I can never undo what I did there.”
I took a step closer to her. “I want to understand, Evelyn. I want you to trust me enough to share that part of your past with me. I understand—”
“You can’t possibly understand. Each time-crosser’s experiences are unique and complex, and even though you have two lives, you can’t begin to know what it was like for me.”
“I want to know.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think you do.”
I took another step, drawing close, and put my hands around her waist. “Let me decide that for myself.”
Evelyn studied my face for a moment, her emotions raw and, for a fleeting second, hopeful. But then sadness filled it again. “And what if you decide you don’t like what you learn about me?” She swallowed. “What if you realize what I’ve always known?”
“What have you always known?” I whispered.
“That I am unlovable.”
I lifted a hand to her cheek, every inch of my body aware of her nearness, of the scent of her perfume and the softness of her skin. “What if you realize what I know?”
She looked up at me, questions in her tender blue eyes.
“That you are lovable—because I’m falling in love with you.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “How could you be in love with me? You don’t know who I truly am.”
I wiped away her tear with my thumb. “I know you are kind and thoughtful and good. You love the children at the orphanage, and you would do anything for them. You have a gentle and pure heart, Evelyn.”
She started to protest, but I continued. “The reason I know your heart is pure is because of the remorse you feel for your past. An evil, hateful, vindictive person doesn’t regret their transgressions. You are lovable, despite everything you’ve done in your past. And that’s not just my opinion, it’s God’s truth. You are not the sum of your mistakes.”
Evelyn closed her eyes and pressed against me in a hug that took my breath away. Not because of her strength, but because of her weakness.
She rested her cheek against my chest, and I wondered if she could feel my heart beating.
I laid my lips against the top of her head and wrapped my arms around her, loving how she fit perfectly in my embrace. I wanted to know all of Evelyn Whitney, because even the dark moments had shaped her and created the woman I was falling in love with.
“I want to tell you,” she whispered, “but I need more time, Charles.”
I inhaled the scent of her soap and nodded, though she wasn’t looking at me. “I will wait as long as it takes.”
Yet, even as the words slipped out, I knew I didn’t have much time left.
In a week, I would leave Midcliff and Evelyn, and the chances of us ever seeing each other again were impossibly small.
She finally pulled back, wiping the tears off her cheeks. I reached into my pocket and removed a clean handkerchief and gently placed it in her hand.
“Thank you,” she whispered. When she was done, she looked up at me. Her blue eyes were brighter than usual, swimming in tears. “Are you really falling in love with me, Charles?”
My heart felt like it was going to tear in two, divided by all the things that could keep us apart. Yet, I couldn’t deny the truth. “I am.”
Her gaze filled with wonder as she reached up and placed her hands on either side of my face.
“I don’t deserve your love,” she whispered, her breath warm upon my mouth. “But I want it, with all of my heart.”
I couldn’t wait another moment as I drew her close, capturing her mouth in a kiss.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer, increasing the desire building inside of me. I’d kissed other women before, but none of them had been anything more than flirtation. This was different—in every way possible.
Despite all the obstacles in my way, the impossible choices I had to make, and the mess I’d gotten into pretending to be the Earl of Norfolk in 1883, there was one thing I knew for certain. I loved Evelyn Whitney.
