A Whisper in Time (19 page)

I grabbed a fry and chewed slowly, glad the couple had pulled the attention back to themselves. The rest of the dining area was beginning to fill with Neuse classmates. All were looking about as mentally worn-out as we were.

“So what’s the holdup?”

Okay. Center of attention again. Not happy about that. They would want to know what I thought, and I hadn’t made a final decision before the request got put on hold. I liked the irony of ending up on the homecoming court, I had Susanna’s go-ahead, and yet it still didn’t feel quite right. “I’m working through the angles.”

Gabrielle settled against the booth and crossed her arms. “He has a girlfriend.”

Had she really just deflected this to Susanna? Not exactly the way to get my agreement.

“Oh, right. I’d forgotten about her,” Jesse said. “Does she know that Gabi asked you?”

“She does, and she’s okay with it.” Why did I let that slip out? By defending Susanna, had I backed myself into a corner?

“So it’s all good.” Jesse scooped up his complete share of fries and dumped them on a napkin.

“Then you’ll do it,” Gabrielle said with satisfaction.

That wasn’t what I’d said, but it was what I wanted to do. And Susanna
had
said it was okay. Grudgingly. So why did I feel played?

“What’s your girlfriend’s name again?” Benita asked.

“Susanna Marsh.”

“What’s she like?”

Gabrielle’s words floated back to me.
Describe without mentioning looks
. “She’s quiet. Smart. Loyal. Pure.” Plus both slang meanings of hot, except I wouldn’t use that word with them. It was private. Just for the two of us.

“Where is she right now?” Benita asked.

“Home.”

“Where’s home?”

Shit. Where was my brain today? Had the tests turned it into mush? “My parents have a studio apartment over the garage. Susanna is living there for now.”

Jesse gave Benita a wide-eyed look. “Wish you had parents like him.”

He might not think that if he’d heard the rules my parents laid down.

“What does she look like?” Jesse asked.

Oh, yeah, guys had their priorities straight. I pulled out my phone, opened the gallery, and hunted for the photos from the Eton House. I’d taken the first shot secretly. We’d just arrived, and she’d been absorbing it all. The booths. The docents in costume. The little kids giggling over the games. She’d smiled in total wonder, hands clasped against her waist, in love with the place and the day.

I handed it to Jesse.

He sucked in a quick breath. “I see why you’ve been hiding her. I’d hide her too. Damn.”

We fist-bumped.

Benita looked over his shoulder, frowning. “Okay. She looks…nice. But I don’t understand…”

Jesse and I said in unison, “The hair.”

“What about it?”

Jesse and I laughed. He said, “Oh, yeah.”

Benita took the phone and swiped to the next shot. “What’s she wearing?” She showed us the image, the one inside the dress-up booth.

Gabrielle studied the photo closely. “Federal-period costume.”

I nodded, impressed at Gabrielle’s knowledge. “We were at the Avery-Eton House, near the Governor’s Mansion.”

“She likes that kind of stuff? Is that why Alexis called her the colonial girl?” Benita smiled. “I hope so. I think that’s seriously cool. When do we get to meet her?”

“Not in this century,” Gabrielle said.

I cut a sideways glance at her. “What is up with you?”

“Nothing. Sorry.” She closed her eyes. “Long-distance relationships suck.”

“Yeah. Sounds like it. Maybe you should discuss that with
him
.” I retrieved my phone. “I’d better be going.”

Gabrielle got out of the way. I slid from the booth, grabbed my backpack, and started across the dining room. I’d barely made it halfway when I felt a light touch on my shoulder.

It was Gabrielle. “I apologize. It wasn’t right to take that out on you.”

“Agreed.” I stared down at her, wondering if there was more, not cutting her any slack at the moment. Normal teens didn’t get automatic forgiveness for crap like that.

“Korry can’t come, but he’s already okayed you, and my publicist is pressuring me to announce my escort. And…” She bit her lip and looked around the room. People were staring. “You’re the perfect solution. I didn’t know what I would do if you said
no
.”

“Well, you got your
yes
.” I backed up a couple of steps and turned to go.

“You’ll need to rent a tuxedo,” Gabrielle called to me.

The sound in the dining room dimmed significantly. Message sent and received.

I didn’t understand what had gotten into Gabrielle. “No, I won’t. I own one.”

The noise around me rose again. Now everybody knew that Mark Lewis would be escorting Gabrielle Stone on the homecoming court.

* * *

Once I got home, I raced up the back stairs and found Susanna’s door closed. I tapped lightly, but there was no response.

Maybe she was taking a nap. I’d try again later.

Bike ride. Shower. Change.

By the time I made it to the kitchen, Mom had dinner on the table. I detoured to the back stairs to get Susanna.

“She’s not there,” Mom said.

I looked over my shoulder. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen or heard her since I got home.”

“Is she at the lake house?”

“She didn’t leave a note.”

Weird. I walked to the window overlooking the back yard and peered out. No sign of her in the garden.

“I wouldn’t worry, dear. She’s probably walking on the greenway and lost track of time.”

“Maybe.”

“Are you talking about Susanna?” Dad asked from behind me.

I whipped around, uneasy at the odd inflection in my father’s voice. “Yeah, Dad. We can’t find her.”

“Then I guess you need to see this.” He held up some of Mom’s fancy stationery. “She left this on my desk.”

“Why for you?”

“I’m not sure.”

Dread jolted through me. There could be no good reasons for Susanna to write a letter to my father. “Let me see that.”

I charged across the room and snatched it from his hands. The note was brief, written in her precise, elegant handwriting.

Dear Bruce,

When you read this, you may have noted my absence. I have left for an errand that will likely keep me away overnight. Do not worry. I shall return tomorrow.

Please say nothing to Mark until he asks. He will be unduly concerned, and I should not like to distract him from his studies.

Sincerely,

Susanna

After reading it a second time, I tossed it on the table, stalked to the window, and glared at the setting sun. This was bad. Really bad. I clenched my fists in front of me, so my folks couldn’t see.

The card rustled behind me as my mom picked it up. “Do you know where she’s gone?”

“Not for sure.” One idea kept tickling at the periphery of my brain, but surely Susanna wouldn’t be that stupid.

I had to think. She hadn’t gone to the lake house or she would’ve said so. Who else did she know? How had she gotten there? Bus?

No, the destination was likely within walking distance. I frowned over my shoulder. “Dad, has she said anything to you recently? Anything that seemed strange?”

He shook his head, his eyes narrowed on me with suspicion.

I needed to take a deep breath. Until I had this figured out, I couldn’t act too “unduly concerned.” It took all of the acting skills I possessed to hide from them how bad this was. “Mom?”

“Hmmm?” She looked up from the notepaper. “Susanna has gorgeous handwriting.”

“Mom. Focus.”

“Watch it, son,” my dad growled.

Another deep breath. “Has Susanna said anything to you? Like, maybe about her sister?”

Mom wrinkled her nose at me. “I thought her sister had escaped.”

“She has, and I don’t have any more information than that.”

“Okay, dear. Nothing about the sister.”

“Has she said anything recently that seemed weird?”

“Nooooo,” Mom said, drawing the syllable out.

I turned to face her fully, jamming my fists into my pockets to hide their tension. “Have you thought of something?”

“She asked me about the difference between oral antibiotics and topical. We ended up talking about first-aid classes.”

It felt like someone had put a metal clamp around my chest and squeezed hard. Random events clicked into place, like colored glass in a kaleidoscope falling into a pattern.

Granddad’s wound.

The top drawer of my dresser.

Her eighteenth-century hairstyle.

I gave my mom as relaxed a smile as I could manage. “That can’t be it. Maybe I’ll go up to her apartment and look around for hints.”

Tearing up the stairs two at a time, I burst through the door. It looked perfectly neat. Perfectly kept. Perfectly empty.

The laptop sat in its orderly spot on the table.

I popped it open and brought up a browser, hunting through the recent history of links she’d visited.

Women’s fashions from 1800
.

Treatment of puncture wounds
.

Prescription drugs
.

I checked the list of drugs she’d researched. Many were antibiotics, although some were…unexpected, indicating health problems that I didn’t know anything about. Problems that old people had—like maybe my mom and dad.

Had Susanna gone in my parents’ room looking for drugs?

Damn. They didn’t have a rule about that because no one would’ve ever imagined Susanna would do such a thing. Including me.

Okay, I’d have to deal with those thoughts later. For now, I had to forget how angry I was and refocus on why she did this.

She’d spent a lot of time with her sister’s journals recently. Had something happened to Phoebe—something related to her health?

I brought up the file containing Phoebe’s last journal, went to the end, and worked backwards, skimming the words as best I could. I didn’t have to go far when the word
amputation
jumped out at me.

Phoebe’s thumb had been amputated.

Was that something Susanna would feel compelled to prevent?

Of course it was.

Emotions exploded inside me, a volatile mixture of anger and fear. Susanna had returned to the past.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
EVEN

F
OREVER
F
ROM
V
IEW

“Where have you been, Susie?” Phoebe raced across the lawn and into my arms, the wooden slats of the fence our only form of separation. “I have missed you.”

“And I have missed you. Oh, my dear sister.” I hugged her tightly to me, but she no longer had the frame of a little girl. She’d grown taller than me by two inches, and her body had curved into the form of a young woman.

I dropped back a step. “Let me see. You are lovely.”

She smiled and bobbed a half-curtsy. “I do thank you, ma’am.” She reached across the fence again and caught my hands. “I cannot stay. I am needed in the house. How long will you be here? We thought you were swept away. Where have you been? Please say we can be together for a time. I have many questions.”

“I shall not leave until the morning. May I stay here?”

A scowl settled on her face. “I share a room with Letty. She is our newest chambermaid.” The scowl cleared. “Of course, Letty will not tell. You may sleep in my room. Come here after dark.”

“I shall.”

A horse and carriage clopped to a halt in the street. Phoebe gave a quick glance and gasped. “I must go and so must you.” She squeezed my hands briefly. “I shall see you soon. You will not forget?”

“I shall not.” I stepped deeper into the shadows as she darted across the gardens and down some steps into the basement of the house.

Where would I go until nightfall? Where could I stay hidden from view? A lone woman, regardless of attire, was bound to attract notice if she wandered about without purpose.

There were no churches yet in Raleigh, and I hadn’t thought to bring anything to barter with, so I could not slip into a shop or a tavern.

Merciful heavens, I had not made a perfect plan.

I watched as a fine-looking young man alighted from the carriage and then turned to offer a hand to his three companions. This was, no doubt, Mr. William Eton. The first woman I recognized as Mrs. Abigail Eton, elegant and cool in her pale gown, even from a distance. Next came a young lady, likely Miss Judith Eton, for she was a younger version of the mistress of the household—both in countenance and dress.

Last he helped a girl of tremendous beauty, delicate in stature. Her ink-black curls were cut stylishly short. Her dress flounced with row after row of lace. Doubtless I was seeing a glimpse of Miss Margaret Dunwoodie, the young lady who would’ve ended my sister’s dreams had I not shown up this day.

Quickly, before they could spot me, I trailed along the lane in the opposite direction and followed the boundaries of the Eton property. When I reached their neighbor to the east, I paused. The Etons had planted a high, sturdy hedge, as had their neighbors, leaving a small gap.

The sight made me smile. A feud, a past unpleasantness, or perhaps merely a desire to be left alone echoed in that narrow space. It would serve my purpose well. I plunged between the hedges to lie on the grass in the cedar-scented shade.

* * *

The growl of my stomach awakened me from a light doze. As I nibbled on a granola bar, I peered at the sky. The sun perched on the horizon, although there was sufficient daylight to see. Supper could not be more than two hours away. Phoebe’s duties would end once the meal had been served.

I crept back to the Etons’ side yard and hid beneath the branches of a willow. The servants scurried about. Mr. Eton arrived and handed his horse over to a waiting slave.

I tracked that young boy as he led the horse down the block, disappearing behind a row of buildings, doubtless the stables. It was hard to reconcile my thoughts on the enslavement of people. I too had been bound out against my will. My enslavement had promised an end date, although I had not known at the time that my release would only have come with death. Mark’s world had taught me how desperately wrong this system was. Yet where was my rage for that young boy? Or the girl I had been?