“Then you believe me?”
He nodded. “I do.”
“Thank you. I…well…thank you. So, now you see why we can’t tell Ceres’s father.”
“I believe that you exchanged souls with Ceres, but you can still experience this time and let Ceres’s father know she’s alive.”
“But she isn’t. Not really. She was meant to die. She made a choice that would have led to her certain death and when I leave, she will die. Maybe it’s better not to put her father through this agony twice. Ceres is gone. She is truly gone. I’m not Ceres. What’s more, even the thought of going to see her father fills me with dread. As I mentioned, Gertrude said some memories leak through. I am dead certain I need to avoid her father at all costs.”
“Sara, my life here is isolated and if you stayed here that would be fine, but you won’t experience much more of Venice if you do that. I also fear that your presence here won’t go unnoticed forever, and it will eventually get back to your father. Even worse if you die here, I could be accused of murdering you.”
“No, I’ve already thought of that and I won’t let it happen. I have it all worked out. When the time comes, I will swim back into the Adriatic. Once I’m well away from this island, I will say the word. If Cere’s body is ever found, it will be consistent with what everyone already believes happened. If not…well, it doesn’t matter then.”
“I suppose you’re right. If you are going back maybe it is better to spare him a bit of pain.” He furrowed his brow. “There is more to this soul exchange business than first meets the eye. Having to decide how and when someone dies can’t be easy. While it seems like there’s nothing to lose when you’ve been offered the chance to use the pocket watch, I’ll warrant no one fully grasps the fact that they are having an impact on more than just themselves.”
She nodded somberly. “I think that is very true.” She was silent for a moment. “I know I probably shouldn’t ask this, but can I stay here with you and explore Venice until it’s time for me to leave?”
He wanted to say ‘no,’ to beg her to spare him the agony of seeing her every day, all the while knowing she could never be his. But he coveted the little time he had left with her and wouldn’t turn his back on it. “Yes. You are welcome here.”
“Oh, Benedict,” she exclaimed jumping to her feet and hugging him. “This is wonderful and it’ll be so much fun. I’m so glad you know about the pocket watch. There will be no secret between us. It will almost be like having a brother again.”
She thought of him as a brother? Dear God, how much worse could this get? Then he realized exactly what she had said. “A brother again? Did something happen to him?”
~ * ~
Sara hadn’t planned on having this conversation, but once her hand was forced she was very thankful that she did. It made the whole situation simpler, and he knew exactly where things stood before she did something foolish—like fall in love with him.
She liked Benedict. She liked him a lot. In fact, if she were being honest with herself, she was already falling in love with him, and she had to stop that at all costs. Unfortunately, the romantic in her wanted to love and be loved so much that she constantly misread signals from the men she had dated. She believed she had fallen in love before—several times. Each time she was certain that the magical happy ending was just ahead, only to have her heart broken.
Now she found herself in another time, in a romantic city, with an extraordinarily handsome man who could have stepped out of the pages of one of her books. If she made the same mistake this time, and worse, decided to stay because of it, it would be devastating. The fact that he didn’t love her might be the least of her problems. And snuggling up with a pint of ice-cream and watching sappy movies until she had cried it all out, or whatever the eighteenth century equivalent of that was, wouldn’t fix things.
Besides, hadn’t she already fallen in love with Mark? Even as that thought occurred to her, it didn’t feel exactly right. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why.
Still, it didn’t really matter. She needed to protect herself by keeping him firmly in the “friend” realm. She actually believed he could be “like a brother” to her until the words tumbled out of her mouth. She didn’t feel remotely sisterly towards him.
“Sara, did you hear me?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You had a brother?”
Ugh. It still felt like a fist to her gut every time she thought about it. “Yes. He was eight years younger than me. But he and my parents were killed in a car accident.”
“What’s a car accident?”
“A car is like a carriage that doesn’t require horses. It uses an engine that burns gas, but that technology won’t be invented for about a hundred years. Anyway, by the middle of the twentieth century, they became very popular and very powerful. They can travel at high speeds. Three years ago, we had all been to a band concert at his school. He played the trumpet. I was in graduate school at the time and lived in an apartment near the university, so I had driven myself. They were on their way home and a girl who was going way too fast and not paying attention to what she was doing drifted into their lane. Apparently, Dad swerved to miss her, spun out, and tumbled down an embankment.”
“And they were killed?”
“Not instantly.” Tears welled in her eyes. “My dad died within a few hours, but Mom and Josh were severely injured. Mom died after three days. Josh lived for eight more days after that.”
He put his arms around her. “Oh, Sara, I’m so sorry. Do you have any other family?”
“No. It’s just me now.” She rested her head against his chest and it felt oh, so good. Mark had never done this. She hadn’t met him yet when the accident occurred and if the subject arose, he rushed to change it to something less distressing. But she knew Benedict had suffered a similar loss. He understood.
“I know what it’s like to be alone. It must have been hard for you. It must be hard still.”
She nodded. “As time passes, it has gotten a little easier. The pain is still there, just not as sharp and intense.”
“Aye, it’s the same for me.” He kissed the top of her head. “I fear that pain will never go away completely, but we’ll grow stronger with time.”
No one had comforted her like this in a long time. But as much as she longed for it, if she gave in and allowed herself to love him, she’d have another loved one to mourn the loss of in a few weeks.
She stepped back, wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Benedict. It’s been a busy day, and I’m bone weary. I’ll tell you more about the twenty-first century tomorrow but for now, I think I’ll bid you goodnight and find my bed.
He nodded. “Goodnight, Sara.”
“Goodnight.” She practically fled from the room and up the stairs.
Chapter 10
Sara had been tired. It was the good, satisfied kind of tired that signals a day where much has been accomplished. In addition to the laundry, she had dusted and swept the bedrooms before remaking the beds with the freshly laundered linens.
The rest of the laundry was a little daunting. Everything needed to be ironed. She knew that Benedict had someone else do his laundry, but surely his mother had had irons. Sara searched until she found them, shoved way to the back, on the bottom shelf in the pantry. They were black cast iron. She’d seen similar in antique shops and knew enough from old pictures to get the gist of how they were used. She put them on the stove to heat.
She couldn’t find anything that looked like an ironing board, but she’d made do by putting towels on the kitchen worktable. She used one iron until it cooled then switched to the other one. She’d started with her own undergarments, figuring that if she fouled it up too badly, the damage wouldn’t show. That was a good decision because, while she was now the proud owner of a scorched petticoat, she’d figured out that the fabric needed to be damp. The task took hours but allowed her lots of time to plan more of her new book. With no one in
the house to hear her, she tried out bits of dialogue. She even decided on the title: The Passageway.
When she was done, it was time to fix supper. When the last pot was dried, she was tired, but very proud of all she’d accomplished.
Then Benedict had told her about Ceres.
Now Sara lay in bed, her mind whirling with the consequences of having exchanged souls with someone.
Last week the entire experience had been a lark. Sara had been having a wonderful time and had even likened it all to a fantasy vacation. But there was one big flaw in that. When one went home after a brilliant vacation, new friends were not lost forever, no one died and no one was left to mourn a lost loved one.
She had convinced herself that because neither she nor Benedict knew who she was, she was actually just herself. But she wasn’t. She resided in Ceres Llewellyn’s body and the only thing she knew about the girl was that she wanted to avoid her father.
Then, too, Sara had convinced herself that Benedict was simply the source material for her next hero. But he wasn’t. He was a living, breathing, eighteenth century man who had been nothing but kind to her. But now he would have to deal with the consequences of her imminent death.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have asked him to let her stay. Perhaps she should have just asked him to take her to Venice. She could have figured out some way to get by…at least for a few days, if not the whole amount allotted. But she couldn’t bear the thought of that. The time she spent with him was nothing short of magical. She didn’t want to give that up yet. She also didn’t want love to get mixed up in this whole mess. Furthermore, she’d accepted the watch so she could research this time and place. So she vowed to stay focused and avoid falling in love at all costs.
Eventually she fell asleep but her rest was disturbed by dreams she didn’t understand. She woke the next morning, still tired, but she got up and dressed quickly anyway. She wanted to see Benedict before he left for the Shipyard.
She had stoked the fire and had the kettle boiling before he came downstairs.
“You’re up early.”
“A little, but I didn’t want to miss you this morning.”
He frowned. “You look tired. You don’t have to wake before I leave. I’m perfectly capable of making myself tea.”
“I know you are, but I do like making meals for you.”
“I like that too. And I like fresh linens on the bed. I didn’t realize that you’d done the laundry until I went up for the night. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You’ve provided me a home. It’s the least I can do.”
“Still, I don’t want you to wear yourself out. Go back to bed for a while now and get some more rest.”
“I couldn’t sleep if I tried and I don’t want to. I wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask away.”
“I’d like for you to take me to Venice today.”
“I’d love to, but I really have to work. We’ll go again on Sunday.”
“I know you have to work and I’m not asking for you to escort me. I thought I’d just wander around a bit and see what things are like. You know, just ordinary life.”
“No, Sara. That is out of the question. You can’t wander around Venice alone. It isn’t safe.”
“It’s broad daylight. Nothing can happen.”
“All kinds of things could happen. Young women do not wander around Venice alone. You might be mistaken for a courtesan or worse, a prostitute. You can go to Venice when I can stay with you. Not today.”
“Maybe I could dress as a boy. No one would pay any attention to me then.”
Benedict frowned.
“Please, Ben. I only have sixty days here, eight of which are gone. There are only seven Sundays left. That isn’t nearly enough time. The whole sixty days isn’t enough time. I can’t waste it.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Even dressed as a boy something could happen to you.”
“Will you at least think about it?”
He sighed. “Yes, I’ll think about it.”
Sara decided not to press him more. After he’d thought about it, she’d have another chance. “Thank you, Ben.”
She fixed breakfast for him and packed a sandwich and fruit for his lunch. She smiled, thinking cookies were needed. She’d try to bake some today.
~ * ~
Benedict couldn’t get Sara’s request off his mind all day.
For that matter, he couldn’t get anything about Sara off his mind. And every thought, every memory gouged at the spot in his heart he’d made for her that he now feared would be empty forever.
He forced himself to remember that she was simply here to learn. She had to leave. Maybe he should let her do as she wished. He had no authority over her.
But what if something happened to her? He’d never forgive himself.
And so, the circular argument with himself continued incessantly until the workday was over. By which time he’d accomplished little. He sailed across the lagoon and still hadn’t made a decision by the time he walked up to the house from the dock. Seeing the light shining from the kitchen caused his heart to ache afresh. She had become a light in his life. He had let himself imagine this, coming home every day for the rest of his life, to Sara.
As she had the previous day, Sara had prepared a wonderful meal. She didn’t raise the subject of going to Venice during dinner and he’d half hoped she’d changed her mind or forgotten it. But that was a vain hope.
After dinner, she poured them both a cup of tea and put a plate of something she called snickerdoodles on the table between them.
“Ben, have you thought any more about me spending time in Venice?”
Ben. She’d started calling him that and he liked it. “It seems I’ve thought of nothing but that today. Sara, it just isn’t safe.”
“Even as a boy?”
“Even as a boy.”
She turned her head away, clearly frustrated. “I think you are taking this too seriously.”
“It’s your life I’m worried about. I don’t think it’s possible to take that too seriously.”
Looking directly at him again, she said, “I am smart and resourceful. I think I can manage to stay out of trouble. But the truth is, I am going to die anyway. If I get into a bad spot and push comes to shove, I can always say the return word and go home early.”
That thought tore at his heart. He didn’t want her to go home early. He didn’t want her to go at all. “If you do that, you won’t even have your seven Sundays.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
But I’m not. He looked into her eyes, so beautiful and so full of determination. As much as he wanted to, he could not keep her locked away here. Although she’d be safe, she wouldn’t be happy. She wasn’t here to be his wife. She was here to learn and return to her own time. “Fine.”
“Then I can go tomorrow?”
“Not tomorrow. I do think it will be safer for you to be dressed as a boy and that’ll take some work. My mother didn’t like to throw anything away. She packed a lot of old things in the attic, believing they might come in handy someday. There might be old shoes there. She also kept a box that she put worn out clothes in to use for rags or patches and the like. I think it’s in the attic. I expect we’ll be able to find something that I outgrew in that. But you’ll need to alter anything we find in order to make it fit. And I suspect you’ll need to do some repairs as well. If you can put together an adequate costume by tomorrow, I’ll take you into Venice on Thursday.”
“The attic? Can we go look now?”
“If you wish.”
He took a lamp and guided her up the narrow stairs that led to the attic from the second floor. He located the box and together they went through it. He did find a pair of breeches with worn out knees and a crumpled, stained shirt that had probably been his when he was fifteen or so. Both were much too big and would take some work to be presentable. He also located a trunk containing several old pairs of shoes that
had been his through the years. Sara was able to find a pair that fit relatively well. “You’ll need a hat too. I have one downstairs that is a little worn. It may be a little too big, but since you’ll need to tuck your hair up into it anyway, so I expect it will fit. You can use your own stockings.”
She grinned. “This is all great. I’ll work on it tomorrow.”
Unable to match her enthusiasm, he just nodded.
“Ben, I know you’re worried, but I’m sure nothing will happen. I’ll just experience everyday life and at the end of the day, I’ll make my way back to the Arsenale in time to come home with you.”
Home. Maybe if she thought of it as home, she’d decide not to leave. Perhaps it too was a vain hope, but he needed something to hold onto if he was going to make it through the next fifty some days.
Chapter 11
The next day Sara worked for hours on her boy clothes. She put a pot of soup on in the afternoon, so she could keep working and finish the project.
Once they were laundered, she put tucks into the waistband of the knee breeches, moved the buttons over a little and patched the knees. The shirt was much too big. She nearly rebuilt it from scratch. She cut the arms off at the shoulders. It would be easier to shorten them there than at the cuffs. She took in the sides, cut several inches off the bottom and hemmed it, then sewed the sleeves back on. It was still too big, but she was no longer swimming in it.
When Ben came home that night, she greeted him with the costume on.
“I have to admit, it’s not bad. If anyone looks closely they’re likely to know you aren’t a boy. But with luck they won’t even notice you, much less look carefully.”
“So, you’ll take me?”
Ben nodded. “I still think it’s a bad idea, but yes, I will.”
Unfortunately, they woke the next morning to leaden skies and rain. As much as she wanted to go, slogging around all day in the rain wasn’t enticing, so she agreed to wait until Friday.
Friday morning dawned clear and bright and Sara was beside herself with excitement.
Nothing to Lose: The Pocket Watch Chronicles Page 8