Louisa’s head jerked up to stare at Mrs. Dobbs. 1617? She had set the clock to 1610. What year was this? Had her hand shaken so badly?
“How long has it been since 1617?” she asked carefully.
“Why, three years, dear. It’s 1620, or have ye forgotten?” Oh, God, Louisa thought. She was ten years past the last sighting of Valerie. What if she wasn’t in Virginia any longer?
May 1620
Virginia
Chapter 4
Alec Whitfield pushed away the ledger in disgust, and rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger. The numbers were beginning to dance in front of his face, but he still hadn’t managed to make the numbers balance. God, he hated doing the books. Alec leaned back in the high-backed chair and closed his eyes for a moment. A fragrant breeze was blowing through the open window, carrying the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass. He could hear the incessant buzzing of insects and frogs holding court at the lake, but the house was quiet. The children had gone to bed hours ago, and Valerie had retired early, pleading a headache.
The thought of Valerie made Alec’s chest constrict with anxiety. He couldn’t forgive himself the momentary weakness that had resulted in another pregnancy. He had been so careful, so controlled, but all it took was one mistake. That night six months ago, he’d had a few glasses of brandy with Charlie before going up to bed. His brother enjoyed these rare moments when they sat in front of the fire and talked like men, sharing a drink or two. He still lived with them, although it was time for him to be thinking of a family of his own. Alec was already married by Charlie’s age. But Charles was in no hurry. He was itching to see the world, and he longed to do it before settled down.
By the time Alec crawled into bed Valerie was already asleep, naked and warm. She must have been waiting for him and dozed off. She never bothered to open her eyes; just wrapped her legs around him in silent invitation; as he bent down to kiss her. She was so ready for him, so hungry, that Alec just plunged in, allowing his body to silence his mind. That had been his mistake. Valerie’s legs were wrapped so tightly around his waist that he wasn’t able to pull out at the crucial moment and spilled himself inside her; for the first time since Louisa’s birth. He prayed that there would be no consequences to his stupidity, but God hadn’t been listening. When Valerie bolted out of bed to grab for the basin a month later; he knew. She was always sick in the first trimester, vomiting as soon as she opened her eyes in the morning. Alec had been so angry with himself; he nearly killed his horse, galloping for hours to ease his fury.
It wasn’t that Alec didn’t want another child. He would have been happy with a dozen, but he would trade all the children in the world for his wife. Louisa’s birth had nearly killed both mother and child, and Alec wasn’t willing to take chances with Valerie’s life. Finn had been born at Yealm Castle under the watchful eye of Dr. Marsh, but by the time Louisa came, they were already in Virginia with Bridget being the closest thing to a midwife.
There had been a barber-surgeon in the area, but he went back to England along with some of the colonists who chose to return, and no one had taken his place. Alec hadn’t worried too much, knowing that Bridget had delivered numerous babies and would be up to the task. After all, this wasn’t a first child, and the second birth should be easier. Or so he thought. Louisa had been breech, and after three days of labor, Valerie had still not delivered. If the baby did not come soon, they would both die.
That night was still clearly etched in his mind. Three-year-old Finn had been crying for Valerie all day, unable to understand why he couldn’t see his mother. Alec finally asked Charlie to take him into his own room and comfort him. Finn adored his uncle, and was very happy to have Charles all to himself. Getting to sleep in Charlie’s bed was a special treat and the little boy went off happily, kissing Alec and running off with his favorite toy clutched in his hand. His nightshirt trailed on the floor, making him look small and vulnerable. Alec prayed that Finn would still have a mother come morning. Bridget was already waiting for him by the time he walked into the bedroom and rolled up his sleeves. Valerie was lying in the middle of the bed, white and still. A few hours ago, she was still screaming, but by this time, she was so exhausted that the contractions came and went without a peep. Her eyes were closed, her face clammy to the touch.
“Val, it’s me. I am going to help Bridget deliver this baby. Can you hear me?” Valerie gave a slight nod without opening her eyes.
“All right. Let’s begin. We do not have much time. I will try to turn the baby from the inside, while ye push on her belly as hard as ye can when I tell ye. Can ye do that, Mr. Alec?” Bridget looked white as a sheet herself, her frizzy red hair doing its best to escape from the kerchief on her head. Alec tried not to look at her bloodstained apron, and simply nodded. Bridget pushed up Valerie’s nightdress and showed him what to do. She put her palms flat against the heaving belly, and moved them simultaneously to one side, trying to dislodge the child.
“Ready?”
Alec watched as Bridget pushed her hand between Valerie’s thighs almost up to her elbow. Valerie’s body went rigid with pain, but Bridget didn’t stop. “Now!” Bridget’s face was scrunched in concentration as she tried to maneuver the baby while he pushed on Valerie’s stomach; trying to ignore her wail of agony. “Again.” It took several tries before Bridget finally pulled out her arm. It was covered with blood, but she thought she had done it.
Valerie moaned as another contraction seized her. “Valerie, push. Just a little bit longer, sweetheart.” Bridget positioned herself between Valerie’s legs, waiting. “Push, love. I see the head crowning. Just a little bit longer.”
Alec never even bothered to look at his newborn daughter. All he cared about was Valerie. Her eyes never opened as the baby slithered into the world, her pulse so faint that he was sure he’d lost her. He held her tight, trying to tether her to this world, praying silently that God wouldn’t take her from him. The baby gave a lusty wail as Bridget cleaned it and wrapped it in a warm blanket.
“Take it away, Bridget,” Alec growled. He didn’t want Valerie disturbed. Alec sat by his wife the whole night, giving her sips of water, and trying to feed her some beef tea. She needed strength to fight, but she hadn’t eaten in days. He finally dozed off in a chair, as Valerie sank into a fitful sleep, moaning with pain every time she moved. It was well past sunrise by the time Bridget entered the room carrying the mewling infant. “She is hungry, Mr. Alec. She needs her mother.”
Alec watched as Bridget untied Valerie’s nightdress, and put the baby to her breast. Valerie didn’t stir, but the baby began to suck greedily, her tiny hand curled into a fist.
“Would you like to hold her?” Bridget asked as the infant stopped sucking and drifted off to sleep. Alec reached out for the little bundle, feeling its comforting weight in his arms. He peered into the little face, looking for traces of either Valerie or himself. He couldn’t see any, but he felt a wave of tenderness as he held the baby close. “You have to bring her back,” he whispered to the baby. “Only you can do it.”
It took Valerie a week to recover from the birth. She was still terribly weak, but she was managing to eat and feed the baby. Alec had been right. The sight of her daughter was all Valerie needed to start coming around. Finn liked to come for every feeding, watching his mother put the baby to her breast. He was allowed to hold his sister for a few minutes after she fell asleep, before kissing Valerie and going outside to play. As the bloom came back into Valerie’s cheeks, Alec thanked God that his family had been spared.
“Mr. Alec, can I have a word?” Bridget was standing before the desk in his study, nervously pleating the fabric of her skirt.
“What is it, Bridget? Is it the baby?” He had just seen Valerie, and she seemed much better.
“No, it is not the baby. I don’t rightly know how to tell ye this, Mister Alec, but I must say it, so please don’t take offense, sir.” Alec watched Bridget’s face turn a remarkable shade of scarlet as her eyes slid a
way from him and toward the floor. “The mistress has suffered some damage during the birth. Another pregnancy might very well kill her. Ye must not get her with child again.” Alec thought the poor girl would faint from embarrassment, but he couldn’t let her go without asking.
“Are we forbidden marital relations then?”
“Not exactly forbidden, sir. Ye just have to … ah … ye know, not…”
“Thank you, Bridget. I think I take your meaning. I will be most careful.” Bridget gave him a slight curtsey and bolted from the study, slamming the door behind her. At the moment, he didn’t think he would ever dare touch Valerie again, but he knew time would change that. At least he could still make love to his wife.
Chapter 5
Alec was startled out of his reverie by Valerie’s scream. It sounded shrill and desperate, as Alec ran from the study toward their bedroom. He found Valerie sitting up in bed, her eyes wild; her arms wrapped around her middle, rocking back and forth. Alec sat down on the bed and drew Valerie into his arms.
“Again?” he asked softly. Valerie just nodded against his shoulder, wiping tears with the back of her hand. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Only if you come to bed,” answered Valerie, pushing the hair out of her face. Alec quickly removed his clothes and got in next to his wife, drawing her close. “Tell me.”
“It’s the same dream, but it gets more vivid every time. I notice details that I hadn’t seen before, and it all seems so frighteningly real. I see my parents walking side by side. My father is wearing khakis and a white polo shirt, and my mom is wearing a burgundy dress with her favorite ruby necklace. They are walking down Fifth Avenue toward the Metropolitan Museum, laughing and talking. I can’t make out what they are saying, but they seem happy. So happy. They must be going to visit Louisa and take her to lunch. They used to do that once a month when they came to the city from Connecticut.” Valerie opened her mouth to continue, but a sob came out instead, making her sound like a wounded animal.
“Do you want to stop?” Alec wasn’t sure if describing her dream would help her deal with it, but she always seemed to want to talk about it.
“No. I need to tell you. I see them standing at the light, waiting to cross. They are about a block away from the museum now. It’s a beautiful, sunny day and there are lots of people on the sidewalk. The light changes, and they start to cross the street when a motorcycle comes flying around the corner, tires screeching. He plows right into them, and I see them going down, blood all over my father’s white shirt.
My mom is lying on her back, her eyes staring at the sky above. She looks as if she’s dead, but her hand is twitching, trying to reach my father. There is a crowd of people around them, staring in horror. Then there are the sirens of ambulances and police cars, and they’re put on stretchers and taken to the hospital.
I can see the doctors working on them, but it’s too late. My mom is gone. My beautiful mom. They pull the green hospital sheet over her face and turn away. My father is still alive. He is hooked up to all these machines. Their beeping is the only sound in room. He is so white and still. Doctors come and go, but there’s nothing more they can do. He quietly slips away early the following morning. I can see Louisa crying as they tell her. She’s with her boyfriend, Doug.”
Alec held Valerie as she cried. He had a hard time picturing the dream since he’d never seen a motorcycle, ambulance or a police car, but he could understand her grief. The dreams began a few months ago, and seemed to come more frequently as the pregnancy progressed. He was sure it had something to do with her anxiety over the impending birth. Maybe she was longing for her parents and sister. He still longed for his despite the fact that they were long gone.
His sister, Rose, shut herself away in a French nunnery years ago; cutting off all contact. He still missed all of them, especially Finlay. His brother had been his closest friend; and not a day went by that Alec didn’t have a conversation with him in his head, telling him all about Valerie and his son. Finlay would have been so proud of his boy. Every time Alec looked into Finn’s green eyes, so like his brother’s, he felt a pang of sorrow that cut him to the quick.
“Alec, there was something else this time.” Valerie looked up at him, her face pale and drawn. “I saw Louisa. She was dressed in an old-fashioned gown, holding the Cupid clock. Oh, Alec, what if she figured it out?”
“Val, I know it seems real, but they are just dreams, brought on by your anxiety. You are missing your family, that’s all. Your parents are most likely alive and well, doing whatever it is that middle-aged people do in the twenty-first century, and Louisa is most likely married with a baby by now. They are just dreams.” Alec hoped that he sounded convincing, but Valerie wasn’t having it.
“I see it all so clearly. I can feel it in my bones. They are dead, Alec.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve known you for nearly fifteen years now, and you’ve never had the Sight. You are just overwrought because your time is getting nearer. It will be all right, I promise. There is a physician in Jamestown now, and I will get him the moment you feel the first contraction. I will not let you die.” Alec felt a lump in his throat as he spoke the words, knowing full well that he didn’t have any power over life and death. All he could do was pray, and beg God that he would spare Valerie and their child.
“Make love to me, Alec,” Valerie slid her hand down his body, wrapping her fingers around him. “I need you.”
“Val, please. You know we mustn’t.”
“It’ll be all right.” Valerie was stroking him, kissing his chest, and it would have taken a much stronger man than him to refuse her. Valerie lifted her nightdress and lowered herself onto him with a sigh of pleasure. She began to move slowly, deliberately, driving him to the brink. Alec cupped her breasts. They felt heavy and swollen, but he liked them that way. He ran his thumbs over her nipples, making her throw her head back, moaning.
Alec tried to think of unbalanced ledgers to prolong the pleasure, but it proved to be in vain as he spilled himself inside her. Valerie collapsed on top of him, kissing him softly.
“I love you, Alexander Whitfield, and don’t you ever forget it.” Alec wrapped his arms around Valerie, holding her close. Some days he could almost feel Finlay in the room with them, but today wasn’t one of them. Today she was his alone.
Chapter 6
Louisa threw off the thin blanket and rose from the narrow cot. The loft was so dark that she couldn’t see her own hand in front of her face. Mrs. Dobbs had warned her against opening the shutters and the window during the night, for fear of letting in evil humors, but Louisa didn’t care. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe. She opened the tiny window and threw open the shutters, letting in the cool air. Weak moonlight flooded the room, dispelling the feeling of being buried alive. Louisa pulled a chair up to the window and sat down, peering into the darkness. She heard the brook gurgling somewhere to her right, and an owl hooting in the distance. The dark outline of trees looked ragged against the night sky, the only light coming from the crescent moon and countless stars.
After living in Manhattan for eight years, the sounds of nature seemed almost like complete silence. Louisa longed for a car horn, or the sound of a TV from her neighbor’s apartment. It would be lovely to put on her iPod and listen to some soothing music, but those things were lost to her forever now. Her life would now be reduced to the basics, with no comforts or gadgets that she was so used to. Even running water seemed like a luxury now. A shower would have been wonderful, but the closest she could come was the ewer and pitcher on the nightstand. She could wash parts of herself if she chose, or get up early and go take a dip in the brook, if it was deep enough.
Louisa was so wired that sleep simply wasn’t possible. Silent tears slid down her cheeks as the pent-up emotions of the day finally caught up with her, drying quickly in the summer breeze. “Get a hold of yourself, girl,” she whispered to herself. “It will be all right. One day at a time.”
John Dobbs
had promised to take her to Plymouth in the morning. He would install her at a respectable inn, and go to the docks to inquire about a ship to America. He said the voyage would take about two months; weather permitting. The thought of being trapped on some wooden ship for two months in the middle of the ocean terrified Louisa, but she tried not to think about it. It was the only way to get to Virginia, and to Virginia she would go. Valerie made the trip with an infant, so her own crossing would be a piece of cake.
Louisa finally drifted off just before sunrise, exhausted and emotionally drained, and didn’t wake up until Mrs. Dobbs came in and started chiding her about the open window. It wasn’t until Louisa finished her milk and buns, that she realized that she would be riding to Plymouth on horseback. It seemed her ordeal was about to begin. As she mounted the horse with the help of Mr. Dobbs, she wondered what would be the bigger challenge, riding to Plymouth astride, or spending several hours with her taciturn companion.
Chapter 7
The ride to Plymouth had been long and uncomfortable, with the unfamiliar muscles of the horse moving under Louisa’s butt, and flies buzzing around her head. She was perspiring freely from the May heat, and the strain of keeping herself upright on the horse. Every time she began to relax, she felt as if she was sliding off to the side and would fall off; winding up under the hooves of the unfriendly mare. She was so tense that she barely noticed the fields and the villages that they passed along the way.
John Dobbs was silent for most of the ride, as expected, and only perked up as they got nearer to the town; shielding his eyes from the sun, and looking toward the harbor where countless masts could be seen above the roofs of Plymouth. Was the ship that would take her to America already in port? Louisa clutched her valise tighter, and followed Mr. Dobbs through the narrow streets of the city in the direction of the docks.
A Leap of Faith (The Hands of Time: Book 2) Page 3