by L. P. Dover
“Didn’t you say my grandmother’s coachman found me?” I asked, praying to God I didn’t pass out from how tight the corset was.
I watched Helen in the mirror and she nodded. “You were asleep on the front porch with no carriage in sight. No one heard a sound. It was most peculiar, as you were dressed in your nightgown with a blanket wrapped around you. We don’t even know who brought you, or why you weren’t wearing a traveling dress.”
“Neither do I,” I replied. “I’m afraid I can’t remember.” I’d had plenty of crazy dreams before. I was surprised I didn’t fly in on a rainbow-colored unicorn.
Her brows furrowed. “It is most strange. Reginald brought you inside and led you to the sitting room. You were so exhausted, no one wanted to move you. It was Ms. Hamilton who knew you from the second she saw the locket.”
She finished tightening the corset and I sucked in a shallow breath. As long as I stood up straight, I’d be okay. I had no clue how I was going to survive the entire night. I just prayed sitting would not be involved. “Are there any family portraits with me anywhere?” I didn’t remember finding any in my grandfather’s belongings.
“Not that I know of,” she answered with a shake of her head. She glanced toward the door, her gaze sad. “Your father never sent any.”
If my history was correct, he’d left Adeline-Jane with his parents, so he could mine for gold. He later died when one of the tunnels collapsed. “I can’t imagine what she must’ve gone through, losing both parents,” I whispered to myself.
“What was that?” Helen asked.
I waved her off. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.” The thought of it all was too depressing to dwell on. I needed to change the subject. “What do you think I should cook tomorrow for the baking raffle?”
Her gaze met mine in the mirror. “What do you like to bake?”
“Lots of things. I’m always finding recipes on—” I stopped mid-sentence.
Her brows furrowed, and she stared at me curiously. I couldn’t tell her I found recipes online. She’d think I lost my mind.
With a wide grin, I cleared my throat. “I’m always trying to find new recipes. Hopefully, I can think of something.”
She winked. “I can help you. I happen to know my way around the kitchen downstairs.”
“That’d be wonderful. Thank you.” I drew in a ragged breath. “What all do I have to do when the men show up tonight?”
Helen lifted my gown over my head and it flowed down my body like silk. The clothes were one of the things I loved about the 1800s. Then again, I was fascinated by history, and here I was . . . right in the middle of it.
“First,” she began, “you’ll be introduced. From what I’ve seen when your cousin, Emma, had her party, most of the men will want some time with you. You’re a beautiful woman. I dare say you’re going to be busy tonight.”
Great. Now I could mess up a relationship in my dreams as well. Wasn’t I the lucky one? “I’ve never had any luck with relationships,” I confessed.
Her eyes twinkled. “That’s because you haven’t met the right one. When I met Jonathan, I knew he was the one the second our eyes met. It was like magic.”
“Must be nice to feel that—to just know,” I murmured. “Believe me, I’ve wanted to.” I’d tried opening myself up to people over the years, but the connection was never there. It always felt forced.
Once dressed, Helen curled and pinned my hair, so it was off my bare shoulders. My locket hung snugly between my considerable décolletage. I couldn’t help but stare at myself in the mirror. I was Adeline Hamilton, but not the same one everyone believed me to be.
Helen moved to the door and I looked at her reflection. “I’m going back down to the kitchen. The guests should be arriving soon.” She pointed toward the window. “Your bag is on the floor over there. It was found beside you on the porch.”
I looked over at the brown carpet bag with flowers stitched into the fabric and nodded. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
Her footsteps sounded down the stairs, but then another sound caught my attention. I jumped to my feet and looked out the window, resting my knee on the window seat cushion. A stream of carriages and horses made their way down the long, dirt road. The guests had started to arrive.
Turning away from the window, I lifted the carpet bag and carefully opened it. My fingers tingled with the thought of touching something so old and unique. The contents in the bag were the biggest surprise. It was filled with little trinkets, cash, and a beautiful diamond necklace.
A knock sounded on my door.
“It’s time, Ms. Hamilton,” a voice called out. It sounded like Evelyn.
Heart racing, I pulled up the loose board I knew about in the window seat—thankful that some of the layout was identical to real life—and stuffed the bag down inside, hiding it from view.
“Coming,” I shouted. I had no clue why the money was there, or why I would need it, but in my dream, it was obviously there for a reason.
Seven
Adeline
Watching our guests arrive and climb out of their carriages left me absolutely fascinated. The men were dressed in tail coats and top hats, while the women wore an array of colored gowns with cinched waists and large hoop skirts.
My nerves got the best of me as I noticed the number of people arriving. I’d never been the center of attention at a party. Granted, a part of it did make me excited; it wasn’t every day I could live in history. The sheer detail of my dream was staggering. It was all so real.
I walked downstairs, and a familiar curly, brown-haired woman caught my attention as she turned the corner to the kitchen, wearing the same maid outfit as Helen. My grandmother waved for me to join her in the parlor, standing in a group of women, but I held up a hand and rushed into the kitchen. There was food everywhere, and only one woman by the stove. Her back was to me, but there was no mistaking who it was.
“Margaret?” I called out.
She spun around and smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Why hello, Adeline. How are you enjoying 1865?”
“I should drink wine more often, if this is the result.” I glanced around the kitchen. “It’s actually pretty cool. I never thought I could dream up my dead relatives.”
She giggled. “Jessica told me the 1860s were your favorite. I’m a history fanatic as well.”
“I’m surprised she’s not here in my dream,” I added. Maybe if I thought of her enough, she’d appear.
Margaret shook her head. “She doesn’t belong here. This is your dream. You’re the one who has always wanted to live in the past. I’m sure you can handle the way of life here.”
The wood stove behind her reminded me that the house didn’t have electricity. Then again, nobody did right after the Civil War. It was going to take some getting used to. “Hopefully, I can live without my flat iron,” I teased, earning a smile from Margaret. “I have a question though.” Her brows lifted. “Why does everyone here think I’m Roger and Annaliese’s daughter? Adeline-Jane died in a carriage accident.”
Margaret nodded. “She did. Sadly, she never made it to Asheville. But you did. They don’t know the difference. You can be who you want to be here.”
Thinking about it all made my brain hurt. “This is so freaking weird. I can’t even wrap my head around it. It’s a dream for Christ’s sake.” I walked around the kitchen. Everything felt so real. “I keep waiting to wake up any minute.”
She walked over to me and touched my arm. “It’s not time for that, my dear. Didn’t you want to find your true love?”
I snorted. “Not like it matters. I’m in a dream. As soon as I wake up, it’ll all be over.”
Her grin widened. “Maybe. All I can say is enjoy the time you have here. Not many people get this chance.”
“Adeline,” my great-grandmother called out. I looked over at the kitchen door and when I turned back to Margaret, she was gone. I grabbed a slice of apple off the fruit tray. “I’m losing my mind.”
My great-grandmother opened the kitchen door, her lips pursed. “It’s not polite to keep our guests waiting. Come on. Your aunt and uncles are here to meet you, along with your cousins.”
Helen, and who I assumed to be was Evelyn, came into the kitchen and grabbed the plates of food. I followed my grandmother out into the foyer. The whole house was filled with people, several of whom I recognized from some of the pictures I had back home. It was surreal seeing them all in the flesh.
Once introductions were made, I got a good look at a man standing by the front door, greeting everyone as they came in. I knew upon first look it was Andrew Hamilton, my fifth great-grandfather. It was uncanny how much he looked like my grandpa, with white hair, a square jaw, and a tall, stocky build.
My great-grandmother joined him at the door and waved me over. Andrew smiled down at me and pulled me into his arms. “You look just like your mother. I’m so glad to finally meet you.”
“Same to you,” I whispered, hugging him back. I knew I didn’t belong there, but it sure felt like I did.
Letting me go, he stepped back and beamed. “There are many who want to meet you tonight, young lady.” He nodded toward the line of guests standing at the door. “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, my stomach in knots. I stood with them and greeted the guests as they came in. Andrew would occasionally grin at me, nodding in approval. Even his smile reminded me of my grandfather, which made my heart ache. I missed him more than anything.
Once the line had died down, my great-grandfather gently grasped my elbow. “There’s someone I want you to meet. He arrived earlier, before you joined me at the door.”
He nodded toward the parlor, where a young man stared at us. He looked to be around my age, maybe a year or two younger. His dark blond hair was slicked back, and his suit fit him perfectly. Judging by the arrogant grin on his face, he came from money.
My great-grandfather leaned toward my ear. “His name is James Ferguson. He comes from a wealthy background, and his father’s a good friend of mine.” Then he cleared his throat. “But of course, money doesn’t always make a good husband.”
“Or a good wife,” my great-grandmother cut in.
Their sentiments echoed what I’d just told my students the day before. The Hamilton’s hadn’t wanted my great-grandfather marrying someone beneath him, but he chose love over society.
Andrew walked me around the various rooms and introduced me to over a dozen men. But to be honest, I was more interested in the home décor than the potential suitors. The library was magnificent, with its floor to ceiling shelves of books, dark green walls, and the smell of old paper. But the sitting room was my favorite of all. The walls were blue with gold designs to match the gold draperies over the windows. The couch and chairs were a deep, royal blue, surrounding a magnificent, square oak table. It was the perfect set up.
We arrived in the parlor and James met my gaze, his stride prideful as he started toward us. He was extremely good-looking, but I could already sense his cockiness before he even opened his mouth. He bowed his head at my great-grandfather. “Hello, Mr. Hamilton.” When he lifted his head, he turned his blue eyes my way, then back to my great-grandfather. “I was wondering if I could have a few minutes with your granddaughter.”
Andrew glanced down at me and I nodded. “Of course. Adeline, this is Mr. James Ferguson,” he said, waving his hand between us, “Mr. Ferguson, I’d like you to meet Ms. Adeline Hamilton.”
He reached for my hand and chastely kissed the back of it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hamilton. Would you care to accompany me?” He held out his arm and I took it, trying my best to be polite.
“I’d be happy to.”
There were other men in the house who stared at us as we walked from room to room. I felt like a piece of meat on display at a butcher shop. I knew what James was doing. It was evident in the way he held his head high, parading me around.
“What do you do, Mr. Ferguson?” I asked.
“My father owns a steel factory, Ms. Hamilton. One day soon, it’ll be mine.”
“Well, isn’t that nice.”
“It is,” he said, agreeing with a nod. “It’s a lot of responsibility though. If it weren’t for the company, we never would’ve been able to build the railroad. It’s because of us, our city is able to receive the supplies we need.”
“Sounds like the Ferguson’s are important people.” I tried my best not to roll my eyes.
His head lifted. “We are. That’s why it’s pertinent for me to make a good match. And I think you’ll fit in just perfectly.”
An exasperated laugh escaped my lips. Everyone in the room froze and stared at us. Mr. Ferguson looked appalled, like there was something wrong with me. Clearing my throat, I slid out of his hold. “How do you know I’ll fit in with your family?” I asked, taking care to whisper the words. “You don’t even know me.” Even if it was just a dream, I wasn’t going to fall for the first handsome man to spout pretty words. Maybe that was why I was single. I didn’t want to be anyone’s trophy bride.
Mr. Ferguson appeared flustered, his gaze darting around the room. He leaned in close. “You’re beautiful, and a Hamilton. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other later.”
Plastering on a smile, I peered over his shoulder, pretending someone needed me. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Ferguson, but I must be going.” He called my name as I hurried off, but I wasn’t about to look back.
Turning the corner into the adjacent room, I ran right into the arms of a man. His hands wrapped around my bare arms and I gasped. “Oh my. I am so sorry.” When I met his gaze, my breath caught. His chocolate-colored hair was gelled to perfection, and he had a set of smoldering, gray eyes. There was something about him that drew me in. It was as if I’d met him before.
His hands slid down my arms and he stepped back, lips pulling to the side in a sly grin. “Running away a bit fast, weren’t you?”
I glanced over my shoulder at Mr. Ferguson who, judging by his scowl, didn’t like my attention turned on another man. “He’s not exactly my type.”
The deep chuckle that escaped his lips made my stomach flutter. “I’d say not. I think he knows it too. The look on his face when you walked away was priceless.”
Clearing my throat, I couldn’t look away from his mesmerizing gaze. “I’m sorry, but you look familiar; however, I can’t place your face.”
About that time, my great-grandfather walked up, setting a hand on his shoulder. “I see you two have met. Adeline, this is Mr. William Blair. He just moved into town.”
So that was why I recognized him. I’d seen pictures of him before, and he looked exactly like the William Blair of my time. No wonder I was dreaming about him. Jessica had me all nervous about meeting him, and here he was, in my dream.
William reached for my hand and kissed it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Adeline.”
“Likewise.” I did my best curtsy, voice shaking. There was something seriously wrong with me. I’d never felt so flustered around a man before. My great-grandfather grinned at us both and walked off.
William’s focus landed on Mr. Ferguson, who still fumed in his corner of the other room. “How about we take a walk outside? It’s getting a little too crowded in here.”
“I couldn’t agree more. It feels like everyone’s staring.”
Sliding his coat off, he wrapped it around my shoulders. Scents of sandalwood and cedar swarmed around me. It was very masculine and alluring. “It’s because they are,” he murmured. “You’re the highlight of the party.”
I scoffed. “Don’t remind me.”
He nodded toward the door. “Come on, let’s take a walk.” He offered his arm and led me outside. A blast of chilly air swept past us when the door opened. It smelled much cleaner than the air back in my time. However, all I could focus on was William’s scent, and how warm his coat kept me.
As we strolled around the front porch, the view of the mo
untains was the same, no matter what century—majestic and beautiful. The front porch had always been my favorite part of the house.
“You don’t speak like all the other ladies,” William pointed out curiously.
Leaning against the giant, white column, I faced him. “I’m different.”
He mirrored my stance. “I see that. Maybe that’s why everyone’s so taken with you.”
My heart skipped a beat and my breath hitched. What was it about this man that made me feel alive? “My grandparents arranged this party, solely so I could find a man. But here’s a secret . . . I’m not going to marry just anyone.”
His gaze raked down my body. “You don’t take me as the kind of woman who needs a man to survive.”
That made me laugh. “Thank you for noticing.” I glanced through the window at some of the other young ladies who were no doubt searching for their own prospective husbands. “I’m not like those young women in there, desperate to find a man for survival. Little do they know, there’s an entire world they can explore. They don’t need a husband to do any of it.”
“You’re right. Women are capable of anything. Maybe there’s a man out there who would love to explore with you.”
I snorted. “I’m definitely not going to meet him in there. All those men are younger than me, and clearly need more time to grow up.”
William shook his head. “You’re what . . . thirty?”
My eyes narrowed. “Good guess.” From the looks of him, he had to be a couple years older. “And you are?”
“Thirty-three,” he answered, looking amused.
A small silence blanketed the area as we stared at one another. “So, you just moved into town. Where did you live before?”
Turning his attention to the snowy mountains, he released a heavy sigh. “Here and there. My family wants me to help with their real estate business. We own a lot of land in both North and South Carolina.”