Through Each Tomorrow, page 28
I sat up a little straighter. She’d fallen in love with a married man?
“Looking back”—she clasped her hands together and lifted her face to the ceiling, as if she was trying to control her emotions—“I can see that he was seducing me, that he only intended to use me, but I fell in love with him and thought he loved me. When he said he was moving to Salem and asked me to go, I knew he was asking me to be his mistress.” She said the word so quietly, I almost missed it.
It was hard to hear her talking about her other path, about a man she loved but who had misused her. Everything she’d assumed about me when we first met was starting to make sense. Josias Reed had told her all the things she wanted to hear and convinced her he was in love with her.
But how did it end?
“Did you go with him?” I asked, making sure my voice and tone were neutral.
“I did.” She crossed her arms. “I rejected my Quaker family and everything I knew and loved, and went to Salem to be his mistress, but really, I was still his servant.” She shook her head. “There, I was a servant, here I had servants.”
“What was your name in Salem?”
Evelyn uncrossed her arms and returned to the seat, where she faced me. “My name was Rachel Howlett.”
I frowned. “It wasn’t Evelyn?”
She shook her head. “My full name in this path is Rachel Evelyn Whitney, but I don’t use my first name here. It never felt right to have the same name in two different lives when I felt like two very different people. So here, I’m Evelyn Whitney, and there, I was Rachel Howlett. But Rachel died in 1692 and no longer exists.”
“She does exist,” I said. “She will always be a part of you, Evelyn. We can’t separate our two lives, no matter how hard we try.”
With another sigh, she said, “I haven’t finished my story.” She played with the lace of her dress, not looking at me again. “It wasn’t too long after we arrived in Salem that I realized I was pregnant, and I had to go into hiding. The punishment for adultery was severe in Puritan Massachusetts. Thankfully, no one outside of Josias’s house even knew I was there, but it became a very lonely existence. The one bright spot was that I believe Josias came to love me toward the end, though it was of little consequence. He soon learned that his wife had changed her mind and was on her way to America with their son. I couldn’t stay at his home, and I couldn’t return to my parents, so I walked to Salem Village, where my cousins Hope and Grace lived. But it was at the height of the witch hysteria, and when their stepmother learned of my identity, she had a fit and accused me of being a witch. I was cast into the gaol, eight months pregnant.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she wiped them away.
I didn’t move as I listened, unsure what to say as the horrors of her story tightened inside my chest. I couldn’t imagine what she had gone through, especially during the witch hysteria.
“I was tried and convicted of witchcraft,” she said simply, though her tone was dry and unemotional. “It was a farce, the whole thing. But because I was pregnant, I was not hanged with the others. Instead, I was sent back to the gaol in Salem. I was so despondent, especially because Josias never came for me. He didn’t fight for me or stand up for me at any time.” She lifted her gaze to mine, so many questions in the depths of her eyes. “Why wouldn’t he fight for me, Charles? Am I not worth fighting for?”
My heart broke as I took Evelyn into my arms, holding her close, wishing I could take away all her pain.
“I had the baby in the gaol,” she whispered. “A little girl with a time-crossing mark on her chest. I never held her. My cousin Hope was there with me, and I made her promise to take the baby to my family in Sandwich. And that’s all I remember. I woke up here the next morning, and I never went back to 1692. My only explanation is that I died in that gaol, abandoning my daughter.”
I continued to hold her as the weight of her pain pressed against my heart. “I’m so sorry, Evelyn. I’m sure Hope was able to get the baby to your family.”
She pulled away and shook her head. “She didn’t. I did a little research soon after I realized I had died there, and I learned that Josias’s wife and son had died on the passage to America and Josias took our daughter, who he named Anne, to South Carolina.”
“What happened after that?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t bear to do more research. It hurt too much. I can’t imagine what Anne did without a time-crossing guide. Josias had no idea I was a time-crosser. That’s why I wanted Anne to be with my family, so she would understand the gift.” Her breathing became shallow, and she pulled away to stand up. “This is why I don’t talk about it,” she said as she struggled to catch a breath. “I feel so panicky. The thought of my daughter not knowing why she is a time-crosser—I can’t.” She looked up at me, her eyes frantic.
I stood and placed my hands on her upper arms. “Take a deep breath in through your nose, and let it out slowly.” I had her do it several more times until she began to calm down.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know this isn’t your problem.”
“Evelyn.” I had her look at me. “What happened was out of your control—perhaps not your relationship with Josias, but he was just as much to blame, if not more so, since he was in a position of authority over you. But losing your life in Salem, and Anne not having a guide, is not your fault. God allowed that to happen for a reason. I won’t begin to pretend that I know what that reason might be, but we can trust Him, that I know for certain.” I’d learned it in my own life. Though I wasn’t sure how God would fix all the brokenness in my paths, I had to believe He had allowed all of it for His purpose.
She nodded, though I wasn’t sure if she believed it.
I slowly guided her back to the bench as the storm continued to blow and the fireplace crackled with heat.
“That was the day I saw the orphanage in New York City,” she said after a moment. “And my heart bled for them in a different way. I had been an orphan once, in this path, and had tried to ignore that fact as I grew up in this opulent lifestyle. I used to turn my back on orphans, pretending I had nothing to do with them. But after I lost Anne, I started to see motherless children in a different light. I began volunteering in New York, and when we arrived in Newport, I inquired about an orphanage here. When I saw little Laura and realized she was about the same age my Anne would have been, I felt a deep bond with her. She had blond hair and blue eyes, just as I imagined Anne might have.” She let out another breath and shook her head. “I knew it would be a miracle, but I asked Mrs. Flanders if Laura had a birthmark like mine.”
“Does she?”
Evelyn shook her head. “But a part of me heals every time I’m with Laura and can make her life a little easier.”
“Sometimes the best way to heal is to help others.”
Evelyn rubbed her hands together and took a tentative look at me. “Do you think less of me, Charles, knowing the truth about my past?”
My heart beat hard as I placed my hands on either side of her beautiful face. “I think more of you, Rachel Evelyn Whitney. For all that you’ve endured and sacrificed.”
Tears glistened in her eyes again, and she entered my arms.
I held her tight, wanting to convince her that my love was unconditional.
“You are the woman I love because of everything in your past,” I said. “It has made you the person you are today, and though I wish I could take all your pain away, it shaped you into this version of you—the version I’ve fallen in love with.”
“Charles,” she said as she pulled back. “I love you, too,” she whispered. “Thank you for seeing who I am and not what I am.”
She kissed me, melting into my arms without effort as her beautiful words warmed my heart and soul.
Evelyn loved me.
23
CECILY
AUGUST 5, 1563
WEXHAM, ENGLAND
For the second day in a row, I woke up at an inn as morning sunshine streamed through the window. This time, however, I was lying in the bed.
Frowning, I turned to look at the wall where I’d fallen asleep in Andrew’s arms. He was sleeping on the hard wooden floor, having rolled up his doublet to use for a pillow.
I couldn’t remember walking to the bed. Had he carried me in the middle of the night?
Warmth filled my chest at his thoughtfulness, and I lay for several moments just watching him sleep. Even if our marriage was in name only, I was proud to be Andrew Bromley’s wife. I vowed I would not make him regret marrying me, even if the wedding had been forced upon us.
Especially because it had been forced upon us.
A noise in the hall made me sit up.
Andrew stirred on the floor, and he blinked awake a moment before someone pounded on the door.
“Cecily!” Charles said from the hallway. “Open this door immediately.”
I was fully clothed, but I still felt exposed and vulnerable as Andrew hurried to stand and pull his doublet on over his linen shirt.
“Charles was understandably angry yesterday in Newport,” Andrew whispered as he buttoned his doublet. “I had hoped he’d be calmer by now.”
“Cecily!” Charles called again. “Don’t make me break this door down.”
“Clearly, he is not.” I got off the bed and smoothed down my hair before I unlocked the door and opened it.
Charles stood on the other side, breathing heavily, fire in his eyes. He glanced over my shoulder at Andrew and then back at me. “Get your things. We’re going to the vicar.”
“The vicar?” I frowned. “Why the vicar?”
“I’m demanding an annulment.” He strode into our small room and came face-to-face with Andrew.
Neither one spoke, and I had a feeling that they’d already said all there was to say in Newport.
“Are you ready?” Charles asked me, turning away from Andrew.
I shook my head, still rattled by his unexpected arrival. “I’m not asking for an annulment, Charles.”
“I’m not giving you a choice, Cecily. The queen will not allow you back into her household if you’re married to a commoner. We cannot return there until we have your marriage certificate and annulment in hand, and even then, she might not allow you back.”
“I don’t care if I can’t go back. All I’ve ever wanted is to return to Arundel Castle, anyway. I’ll travel there with Andre—”
“’Tis not that easy.” He studied me, disappointment and frustration in his eyes. “There will be consequences for your actions. You cannot marry without the queen’s consent, and you cannot leave court without her consent, either. She would have you brought to the Tower if you tried to go to Arundel Castle now. You’re not thinking clearly.”
I pushed past Charles to stand next to my husband. “I’ve never been more clearheaded in my life. I left Windsor Castle of my own free will, and I married Andrew of my own free will. I refuse to go to the vicar, and because I vowed to love, honor, and obey Andrew, you can no longer order me to do anything.”
Andrew stood stiff beside me as we looked at Charles.
“Then I will appeal to your husband,” Charles said, “and demand that he asks for an annulment.”
Andrew’s hand found mine in the folds of my dress.
“I also took vows,” he said, “and I will not break them by giving in to your demands.”
Charles stared at Andrew, so many emotions playing over his face. “You will break them the moment you choose 1883.”
Andrew didn’t flinch or waver as he stared back. “I spent all day yesterday thinking about Evelyn’s words on the veranda. She’s right. I do not want to give up the woman I love.” His fingers entwined with mine. “My father has time to find a different heir, someone who will do the company proud.” He turned to me, searching my face. “I cannot offer much, but I will apprentice with a doctor and pursue medicine here. It will not be the life you’ve always known, but I will do my best to give you the life you deserve.”
My heart fluttered with joy as I realized what he was saying. He was choosing me, and I would choose him, a thousand times over. “I will go anywhere and do anything with you, Andrew.”
“You’ve given me no other choice.” Charles’s voice sounded tired and defeated. “I must challenge you to a duel for Cecily’s honor.”
“Charles! You cannot be serious.” I stepped forward. “Dueling is illegal, and even if it wasn’t, it’s foolish and barbaric. The queen would never approve.”
“Name your weapon,” Andrew said from beside me, his voice level.
“No.” I turned to face Andrew. “You’re both being absurd.”
“The rapier,” Charles said.
“You cannot do this,” I protested, “either of you. How will this solve anything? I might lose one or both of you. Will you challenge each other to a duel in 1883, as well? Will you not be happy until one of you is dead in both paths?”
“I cannot allow your honor to go unchallenged,” Charles said without looking at me.
“You’re talking about hurting Andrew,” I told him—and then looked at my husband, “and hurting Charles. You two are not only best friends, but you share a time-crossing bond. Neither of you need to defend my honor. I can defend my own honor. I am responsible for my choices. I do not need a knight in shining armor to save me.”
“I will go to the livery and rent two horses to take us back to Windsor,” Andrew said to me. He let go of my hand and walked past Charles. “And when we return to the castle, I will honor your challenge, Lord Norfolk.”
“Andrew.” I took a step toward him, but he left the room before I could stop him.
Charles ran his hand through his hair and took a seat on the bed, dropping his arms to his knees.
“How could you?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Don’t even start, Cecily.”
“I love him.”
Taking a deep breath, he straightened, and I saw anguish in his blue eyes. “If that was all you needed, I would throw you the biggest celebration in the kingdom. But ’tis not enough. I, of all people, know it to be true.”
Despite my anger and frustration, I saw something deeper in Charles’s gaze. It wasn’t just his fury at me and Andrew—he was mad at the world. Perhaps at God.
I slowly walked to the bed and took a seat next to him. I wanted to appeal to his tender side to convince him to give up the duel. Charles was chivalrous, but he wasn’t a fool.
“Tell me what’s really bothering you.”
“Where would I even begin?”
“Perhaps with Evelyn.”
Charles leaned on his forearms again and looked down at the wooden floor. “She finally told me about her other path.”
“You didn’t know about it?”
“Nay. She was afraid to tell me because she thought I would think less of her.”
I frowned. “Surely it wasn’t that bad.”
He finally looked at me. “It was bad, but nothing she said made me think less of her. It only made me more compassionate. She made some poor choices, but then other things were out of her control.” He sighed. “I don’t know how to help her.”
“Being a time-crosser is difficult, but being a female time-crosser might be a little more challenging, especially if she was born into a path that was harder for women.”
“She lived through the Salem Witch Trials,” he said in a grave voice. “Or rather, she died at the hands of it.”
My breath stilled as my pulse escalated. Charles rarely spoke about his other path for fear that he might tell me something that would jeopardize his choices there. And for the first time, I wondered if I should question him further, because my time-crossing grandmother, Grace, had also lived through the Salem Witch Trials. Did she know Evelyn? I’d never told Charles about anyone in my other family besides my parents and siblings. He didn’t know that my grandmother had lived at that time.
“How did she die?” I asked quietly.
“I don’t want you to think less of her, either, Cecily.”
“I won’t. I understand how complicated time-crossing is. I don’t blame her for anything she might have done in a different time and place.”
He ran his hands over his face before saying, “She was accused of witchcraft and died giving birth to a child in the gaol—a child sired by a married man.”
I sat a little straighter, recalling a story my mother had told me about Grandmother Grace’s cousin, in gaol during the witch hysteria. “What was her name?”
“Rachel Howlett.”
My lips parted as I stood in surprise. Rachel Howlett was the name of my grandmother’s cousin.
“Rachel Howlett?” I whispered.
He turned to me, his eyebrows wedged into a frown. “Do you know her?”
I slowly shook my head, not wanting to alarm him. I didn’t know Rachel. I knew of her, but I wasn’t sure how much I should tell him.
He studied me for a moment. “You’re hiding something from me, Cecily. What is it?”
I paced away from him. “I—I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
He also stood. “About what?”
“I’ve heard her name before.”
“How?”
I wasn’t sure it was wise to tell him, but I couldn’t think of a reason it would cause problems. “Rachel Howlett was my Grandmother Grace’s cousin in Salem in 1692. My grandmother’s twin sister, Hope, was in the gaol with Rachel when she died.”
It was Charles’s turn to look shocked—and then he looked a little sick. “Does that mean that Evelyn and I are related?”
“No,” I said quickly, wanting to put his mind at ease. “I’m related to Rachel through my time-crossing family in 1913.” I laid my hand on his arm to reassure him. “And even if I was related to her in this path, you and I are not blood relatives, Charles.”
Relief eased his features as he took a deep breath. “It doesn’t really matter. There is no future for her and me either way.” He paced away from me and then turned. “Do you know what became of her child?”
