“No, we just met…”
He chuckles and nods his head in wide-eyed sarcasm. “Right…”
I pout and I know it’s not attractive, but I hate it when he’s such an adult and when he’s so goddamned right. I hate not having comebacks, but I never do. Words fly so fast out of Tynan’s mouth and I can’t keep up. He knows it and he almost always takes pity on me.
Declan brings drinks: my Cosmo, Tynan’s wine and a light beer for himself. I can’t get excited about my little pink drink. My disappointment is heavy and I feel a vision trying to peek through of an older man with his head hanging in despair. The man seems familiar and his grief is thick.
I push it away.
The rest of the evening is spent in strained conversation and concern that my best friend loathes this man who I am more than a little afraid of falling for.
CHAPTER 7
Ellie It’s only seven in the morning, but I know Mrs. Dawes will be at the store already. Her routine was always to arrive at the store around six, meditate and then take a nap. My hope is that this hasn’t changed. And if I’m honest with myself I am hoping she hasn’t changed. These new visions and the arrival of Declan are rocking my world a little. I need an anchor.
Walking up to the store, I see a sign on the door: “Come on in” it says with a crudely drawn smiley face at the bottom. I open the door thinking how odd that is when I hear Mrs. Dawes calling my name.
“I’m in the back, Ellie! Come on through.”
I weave my way through the vitamin displays and bins full of tea wondering if she bought herself a security camera for the storefront. Breathing in the familiar smells, I smile to myself with anxious anticipation. I haven’t spoken to this woman in eight years. Part of me feels like an intruder. I breathe deeply and keep walking.
I can see that I am walking backwards and forwards at the same time. My past is serving my future somehow. It’s all coming together…that is the feeling that hangs lightly in the back of my mind, but I don’t know how to verify its truth.
“Oh there you are! It took you long enough,” she says as soon as I find her in the back room. She’s on the floor going through a box of old books, reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose and her red hair tied back in a messy bun. She’s wearing a bright orange silk vest that is much too big for her over an old white t-shirt and faded black yoga pants.
So far, so good; she looks the same. My chest warms at the thought.
“What do you mean? Did you see me at the front door? And what are you doing down there? What’s all this?” I ask, pointing at the slew of boxes.
“My, my we have a lot of questions this morning! I would have thought you’d start with ‘It’s so good to see you, Mrs. Dawes…after all this time.”
I swallow hard. “It is. It is good to see you. I mean, I know that we wave to each other at Foodland, but it’s not the same.”
“No, love, it’s not.” She stands up, opens her arms wide and I run to her. She feels and smells exactly as I remember: soft and musky. I let myself bask in her motherly embrace and suddenly Frances pops into my head. I’ll have to tell her all about this. I can’t keep any of this from her.
Mrs. Dawes gives me a big squeeze, bringing me back to the task at hand. “I have to know; how did you know I was coming?”
“Ah-ha! Excellent question, but I don’t think I’ll answer it. Now come and sit down, Ellie. Just move those papers and you can even lie down on the couch if you want.” She motions to the brown and yellow striped sofa that is clearly older than I am. “Don’t argue! Lay down and I’ll explain. I know why you’re here.”
I do as I’m told and then squint my eyes at her doubtfully, “You do?”
“Yes, I do. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time. You’re here about the visions, right? My guess is that they have been a little clearer lately? Don’t look so surprised, my dear. I am a seer, you know. Plus, I saw you with that young man last night walking along the harbour. There was no doubt in my mind that you had a connection with him. I felt immediately that you recognized each other and knowing, as I do, that you’ve never ventured too far, I figured the memory of him was from a previous life.” She smiles at me in an attempt to quell my shock. “So just lay back. We’re going to relax you and you’re going to tell me what you see.”
I open my mouth to protest and then think the better of it. I did come here for answers. Settling myself back onto the couch, I look up at the ceiling. Posted to it is a picture of what looks like a part of the milky way…swarms of stars pooled together to make the most vibrant blue. I breathe deeply and close my eyes instinctively. I focus on this image in my mind’s eye and hear Mrs. Dawes’ voice vaguely in the background. It happens almost effortlessly. She mutters something about being calm and serene and then I hear numbers. She seems to be counting backwards…
“Tell me where you are.” I hear her voice say.
“I’m at a ball. He’s here!” I exclaim.
“Ok, Ellie. Here’s what I want you to do: Remove yourself gently from the picture. You’re going to describe what you see as if you are floating above the scene, ok? Can you do that?”
I take a deep breath and I nod, or at least I think I do…
CHAPTER 8
Louisa London, England – 1790
The room was warm and lit by a hundred candles that shone once at the wick and again as shimmering orbs that danced about the room. Soon forgotten are the rain and the mud, the foul smells and the sickness. London society was all astir as Mr. Henry Madison was having a ball. Eligible bachelors drank wine and shook hands as they surveyed the room for money and beauty. Everyone was herded into the ballroom and announced with name, land and title all in the same breath. Here high society mingled with high society.
Miss Louisa De vale was here with her father, Sir Thomas De vale, a very wealthy gentleman and a baronet. Her beloved mother had passed away ten years ago. Many of Sir Thomas’ friends had advised sending her away to school, but he simply could not. Louisa’s presence had soothed and comforted him. She had cried, of course, when her mother passed, but it did not seem to haunt her as it did him. Her father had been beside himself with grief and was overcome with a kind of helplessness previously unknown. Perhaps it was uncommon for a father to be so close with his daughter, but Louisa understood that she reminded him so much of her mother and her lively, innocent spirit eased his heartache just enough to get through each day.
A ball was not at the bottom of a list of places she wished to be at this moment, nor was it at the top. She comprehended that it was part of her role as the daughter of a baronet to make appearances in society. Her mind drifted to the stack of books at her bedside, but she calmly brought it back to the splendour of her present moment. She would make the best of it.
The music floated seamlessly throughout the ballroom and seemed to cast a spell. Louisa had never wanted for a dance partner before and tonight was no different. Her auburn hair, bright green eyes, easy manner and, of course, her fortune, made her a favourite with many men, young and old. She was kind, pretty and intelligent: three things that seldom seemed to exist together among the ton in London. She would dance until her feet begged her to stop and then go out and dance some more.
Louisa felt her father’s proud, admiring gaze and then turned to hear him declare, “My dear girl, have I told you how lovely you look this evening? You have your mother’s eyes, yet you are the spitting image of my own dear mother.” He paused and shook his head with a mixture of sadness and wonder. “I cannot believe you are two and twenty.”
His face was full of kindness. He was a tall and stout man with big, expressive eyes and hair the colour of silver.
“I thank you, father. You are too generous.” Louisa bowed her head. She was acutely aware of how blessed a life she led and her father was one of her many blessings. “Isn’t this delightful? Are we not fortunate?” she asked with a wide smile looking about the room.
“We are indeed, my dear. Com
e now though, Louisa, not one of the fine gentlemen here are of any interest to you? You still maintain that you will not marry?” Sir Thomas shook his head in good-natured disbelief and did not wait for her to reply. Although he would never say it to her, Louisa knew he felt strongly that marriage and family brought happiness and stability. Perhaps he found it difficult to see how she could flourish without the love of a husband and children of her own. She was an only child with very few living family members. After his death, she would be quite alone.
For Louisa however, the prospect of marriage was a dismal one. The men she met were mostly kind and attentive, but they often had little to discuss. They had all been educated at some of the finest institutions in the country, but seemed loathe to share what they learned. The male sex in general appeared to be more interested in complimenting her beauty than discovering her opinion on politics and literature. As much as she enjoyed flirtation, the idea that she must bind herself to one of these men for life seemed unimaginable. She was indeed grateful for the fact that she did not need a husband. Louisa would inherit her father’s estate upon his death and she was already worth thirty thousand pounds. She had decided to live as an old maid, albeit a very wealthy one.
Of course Louisa would never be idle. It was not in her nature. In truth she fancied herself a philosopher. She had read Thomas More’s Utopia and some ancient Indian philosophy. Lately though, she had been most intrigued by Gnosticism and the notion that spirituality was meant to be more of a personal experience. The works had belonged to her mother, whose own father had met an Italian monk and purchased the books for her. Louisa’s mother, Mary, had a father much like her own who encouraged her to read and to indulge her curiosity about life and the world.
She had never met her maternal grandparents, the Boyles, but from her mother’s description of them she knew she would have loved them. They were both Scottish-born, as was her mother, and both came from noble families. According to Louisa’s mother, her grandmother had been fair and kind, while her grandfather had been passionate, intelligent and a collector of fine Scotch. Mary Boyle was born on the Isle of Mull off the western coast of Scotland and lived there until she was nine years old before the family moved to London. Mary had always had fond memories of her time on Mull. Apparently at one time they had the finest home on the island, but it was now long deserted.
“Excuse me, Sir Thomas?” asked Mr. Madison, the host of tonight’s ball and an old friend of Louisa’s father. He was a short, slight gentleman, nearly a head shorter than Sir Thomas. His voice was characteristically quiet and so he had to repeat himself three times before the baronet heard him.
“Ah yes, Mr. Madison! A lovely evening you have given us, sir. Louisa and I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality,” said Sir Thomas slapping the smaller man on the back.
Mr. Madison managed to smile through the obvious pain, “You are most welcome, sir. And good evening Miss De vale. I am honoured to have you both here. There could be no ball without the De vales. It simply would not do.” He inched slightly away in anticipation of another friendly blow. “Now, my reason for coming to see you is that there is a young man who would very much like to make your acquaintance, sir. His name is Mara and I believe he has done quite well for himself. From what I can gather, he has made his fortune by connecting wealthy investors with engineers constructing new towns and ports. Specifically he has been working with the British Fisheries Society. I know it is not customary to speak of such things at a ball, but his offer will be of interest to you, I believe, sir. May I introduce him to yourself and your daughter?”
Louisa looked about the ballroom to see if she could spot this Mr. Mara. As she scanned the room her gaze was drawn to a tall, handsome man with dark hair and a stiff, serious mien. He stared directly at her as if he had been waiting for her to notice him.
Their eyes were locked for a moment until he looked away embarrassed, apparently, at being caught by her. Louisa’s own fixation was broken by the sound of her father’s voice, “Yes of course, Mr. Madison. Bring the young man over!”
She watched as Mr. Madison walked over to the man she had been so struck by and led him in their direction. Her heart leapt in anticipation, but she would have to wait. At that moment, her intended dance partner came to collect her and brought her to the dance floor. Looking back to where her father stood, she observed introductions being made and Mr. Madison leaving with a bow. What was being said? She wondered.
Mr. Mara was dressed like a gentleman, in fine clothes and well-groomed, but he seemed uncomfortable as though he thought himself an imposter. Louisa smiled at the thought and mused about how refreshing it would be to know someone who was not born into society. He turned his head briefly to discover her looking at him. From this shorter distance she could see how dark his eyes were. They matched his hair, his coat and even, perhaps, his mood. She smiled at him and he quickly looked away.
Louisa’s partner prattled on about his father’s estate in Hampshire. Men were always telling her about the estates of their fathers. She nodded politely, but could pay only sparse attention to what was said. Moving her gaze back to the mysterious black-eyed man, it was clear that Mr. Mara was nervous speaking to Sir Thomas. He could not have been more than twenty-five years old, half her father’s age. If only she knew what they were speaking of. Louisa knew it was ill-mannered to be so curious, but she could not help it. She wanted to be involved. She wanted the sound of Mr. Mara’s voice to wash over her like a cool, symphonic wave and she longed to see those ebony eyes up close.
William
William Mara looked down at his hands, absent-mindedly massaging his knuckles. He had been waiting months for this introduction and now that it was here all he could do was fidget. What is the matter with you, William? We have made proposals like this before. It’s either a yes or a no and there’s an end to it.
He had worked hard to arrive at this point. Growing up in poverty meant he seldom dealt with the very rich, much less members of the upper spheres of society, except to see them pass on the streets of London from time to time in their fine carriages. How very different his life looked now. It was still difficult however, to reconcile this reversal of fortune in his thoughts. He was not rich, although he was successful to be sure. Owning a house of his own with two servants and finally being able to shop for finer clothes made him feel satisfied, yet there was a part of him that always felt like the poor, filthy boy from Newgate Street. Until he could rid his mind of that feeling he would keep striving, keep searching.
Raking his fingers through his dark, unruly hair, Mr. Mara began to look about the ballroom. He had never been to an event such as this and he had to admit to himself that he was quite uncomfortable. If only he could have approached Sir Thomas someplace else. He disliked the idea of doing business in a ballroom, but it could not be helped. Mr. Madison had been kind enough to offer the introduction and William was in no position to dictate the terms of it. In any case, he and Sir Thomas were not likely to cross each other’s paths any other way in London.
He continued to shift his stance and looked nervously about the room as his gaze fell upon a vision in emerald. A young woman stood directly in front of him, but twenty feet away. He felt a jolt in his chest and a haze in his head. Her brilliant red hair was swept back with black feathers and with a likeness that was quite eerie, her eyes appeared to match her green dress. Embarrassingly, he could not look away and his boots seemed fixed to the floor as if he would next sink where he stood, pulled under by some invisible force.
She was taken to the dance floor by another man and William shook his head in an effort to remember himself. It was then that he noticed Mr. Madison standing in front of him offering to take him to meet Sir Thomas.
“Sir Thomas, allow me to introduce you to Mr. William Mara. Mr. Mara, this is Sir Thomas De vale of Overfield Manor in Gloucestershire.” Mr. Madison was pleased. He appeared to rejoice in connecting two men who might otherwise never have met.
&nb
sp; “Sir Thomas, it is an honour to make your acquaintance. I have been waiting for this day for many months now. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me,” said William in a voice much louder than he had intended. He inwardly cursed his tenseness and with a deep breath, attempted to cool his head.
“Speak with you, lad? I thought we were meant to meet and exchange pleasantries! Your manner is so serious,” exclaimed Sir Thomas with a kind-hearted wink.
William winced at his teasing. He had never been one to take well to jokes, but it was clear the baronet intended to have a little fun with him. Sir Thomas crossed his arms about his chest and leaned back to give Mr. Mara the floor, “Ok, then! Out with it lad! You have my attention.”
William cleared his throat and attempted to look the gentleman in the eye. “Sir, I have an investment opportunity that may be of interest to you.”
“Is that so? Alright, let’s hear it.”
“Yes, sir; I am to help oversee the construction of a fishing village in the northwest area of the Isle of Mull. Fish are plentiful there. The community is in need of organization and there are many opportunities for a man of your station to profit. I know, sir, that your late wife was born in Mull and so I thought it might be of particular interest to you,” said William looking down slightly for a moment at the mention of Mrs. De vale.
“That is true, Mr. Mara. My darling Mary was indeed from Mull. I am curious how you knew that!” William felt himself go red. “Do not be uneasy. I am even more curious about your proposition. Call on me tomorrow at my home on Turks Row,” said Sir Thomas, offering his hand to William.
“With pleasure, I look forward to it.”
And with that, William finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like days. He turned to walk out of the ballroom, but not without first scanning for a sign of Miss De vale. She was easily found, for as it happened, she was looking straight at him.
Without Fear of Falling Page 4