"Twenty-three," Amelia said without having to think about the question, "one for each day he's been away from the mansion, less the postal delivery time."
"As far as I know, he's only written home about a dozen times since he entered college almost four years ago." Smiling, she added, "And most of them were only to ask Daddy for more money."
"I think he likes me well enough," Amelia said, "but that doesn't mean he wants to marry me. I've just been handy as a dance partner, and for conversation while he's home. When he graduates he'll be able to travel the world on your father's ships, if he isn't tied down with a wife."
"If my brother is so foolish as to let a woman like you get away, then he deserves to spend a solitary life at sea. But I don't think he's that obtuse. I only hope he bares his heart to you before someone else does. Would you wait for him if he wanted to spend a few years traveling to our shipping offices around the Atlantic?"
"I'd prefer to go with him, given the choice," Amelia said smiling, "but only as his wife."
Anne smiled. "Well of course; no proper young woman would be a traveling companion to a man that wasn't her husband. Do you get seasick?"
"I don't know," Amelia said, wondering to herself when motion sickness medicine was developed. 'Probably not until the mid-twentieth century', she decided. "I've never traveled on the ocean."
"I made one trip to Baltimore, and I was sick the whole time— both ways," Anne said. "I lost eight pounds during the trip because I couldn't eat for days. Every time I put anything into my mouth, I had to run for the railing. It was the most awful experience of my life. I'm perfectly content to leave the sailing to the men. We women are just too frail for such activities."
"I think that I'd like to try it sometime," Amelia said.
"Perhaps Jeremy will take you for a cruise on your honeymoon."
"You're not going to stop, are you?" Amelia said, giggling.
"I'm right about this," Anne said smiling. "You'll see— sister-in-law." Pausing, Anne changed her expression from playful teasing to serious discussion. "Amelia, you've changed."
"What?" Amelia said, instantly alarmed that Anne had noticed a change in Amelia's demeanor, although expecting from her arrival that someone as close as Anne should have observed a difference. "How?" she asked nonchalantly.
"For the better, dear. You know that I love you like a sister, and have almost since the first day we met at school, but I've always felt you were a little— wild and impulsive. Those aren't necessarily bad qualities in a young girl, and we did have such a wonderful time during our years at school, but you've matured since I've seen you last. I guess we all have as we've begun to face the responsibilities of our future lives as wives and mothers, but you're more gracious now, and even more caring towards those around you than you were in the past. I know you girls have spent a lot of time together since June, while I've been spending so much more time with Gerald during our courtship, but while we've always looked to you as the leader of our little band, and still do, I've seen even greater respect for your wisdom and opinions in the eyes of the other girls since you first arrived. Especially from Roberta, who frequently voiced an opinion inconsistent with your own." Anne paused again for a couple of seconds. "What I'm trying to say is that I can't think of any woman more capable of taming my big brother, and I can't think of any woman in the world that I would rather have as my sister-in-law. I know that Jeremy loves you deeply. And if you love him, I hope that you'll wait until he makes up his mind to propose before seriously considering a proposal of marriage from anyone else."
Amelia looked at Anne for a couple of seconds before responding. "Anne, I love you also, and can't imagine that there's a finer family into which I could marry." Smiling, she added, "I don't know if I can tame your big brother, but I'd love to give it a try. If he proposes, I'll accept. And if he wants to spend a few years traveling alone before we wed, I'll wait for him. Of course, I hope that he'd prefer to marry me before leaving for distant ports where he might be enticed by women looking for an eligible bachelor. Or better yet, I hope he'd take me with him where I can keep my eye on him."
Anne smiled as well. "I love my brother, and I doubt that any woman could steal his heart away from you at this point, but he is a man after all, and men can be so easily distracted by an attractive face. If we work together, I'm sure we can get him to the altar before any other woman has a chance to latch onto him. I'll start by subtly mentioning at every opportunity that you have suitors lining up to court you, and have already received half a dozen proposals of marriage. If he feels that he might lose you to someone, it might spur him to quicker action."
"I don't want him to feel that I trapped him," Amelia said.
"Of course not, dear," Anne said, smiling. "We never want our men to know that they never had a chance, and that we just allow them to pursue us until we decide to reel them in."
* * *
Chapter Eleven
It was naturally accepted that in due course the four young women would return to the distant homes of their host bodies. As the date for their departure from the mansion grew ever closer, they grew ever more restless. If not for the dream-reinforced memories from their spirit hosts, seamless integration with the families of the four original girls would be impossible. Even now, the difficulty of usurping the position of loved ones in the minds of parents and siblings, without raising suspicions in those that knew the girl best, was the source of intense emotional distress.
At the mansion there had only been Anne who knew the girls before their arrival. And she had been willing to accept slight discrepancies in personality and attitudes because of the months that had passed since she had last seen the girls, new maturities arising from new responsibilities, and of course, the seriousness of the accident. Her preoccupation with other important matters also facilitated the perfect assimilation of the girls into the Westfield household.
Following breakfast on their last day in New Bedford, the four girls bid goodbye to Anne and her father and climbed into the same carriage in which their predecessors had met their cruel fate. The coachman originally hired to bring the girls to the mansion had returned home by train, once he could travel. He would return for his rig when the amputations had healed sufficiently for him to resume his occupation. Until then, having the carriage and horses remain at the mansion saved him the livery bills that he would have normally incurred during his convalescence.
The girls were driven to the train station in town by one of the household coachmen, while a stable-boy followed along in a wagon containing their luggage. Originally everything had been piled atop the one carriage, and the additional weight had greatly contributed to the coach becoming mired in the rapidly accumulating snow.
Despite their anxiety over meeting new families, the girls couldn't suppress the excitement they felt with their freedom from the snowbound mansion. Seeing the nineteenth century countryside around their hometown was a revelation. The rurality of the city's outskirts in the nineteenth century had been unimagined during their time in the mansion. Where their homes would one day stand, they saw only acre upon acre of snow covered farmlands. Naturally gone also were the gas stations, fast food restaurants, stores, and strip malls that would one day be as familiar to them as the harbor itself. Even seeing the city's core was a shock. It was so different from that which they were familiar that it was difficult even to get their proper bearings.
Arriving at the station just in time to catch the northbound Old Colony train, the two estate employees had to rush all the trunks and suitcases onto the platform so railroad personnel could load them into the freight car located just behind a billowing steam engine and tender. All trains had resumed normal service during the past couple of weeks, once the tracks and rail yards had finally been cleared of the heavy accumulation of snow.
Plans called for the girls to travel first to Roberta's home in Worchester, and then on to Elizabeth's home in New Haven. Once each felt somewhat at ease, the others would cont
inue their journey. Lastly, Martha and Amelia would head for their family homes in Hartford.
The pot-bellied stove in the passenger car might have kept it comfortably warm, if a leaky flue hadn't required that a window remain open enough to keep everyone from succumbing to carbon monoxide fumes. And the hard wooden seats were meant for utility, rather than comfort. Even so, it was preferable to traveling in an unheated carriage.
In Worchester, the girls hired a carriage and freight wagon to bring them to Roberta's home. After a short drive through the city, the carriage pulled up to a large two-story brick home on a quiet street of single family homes. The cold weather was naturally responsible for people remaining indoors as much as possible. As the two drivers carried the luggage up onto the porch, a matronly woman, inadequately dressed for the weather, rushed out of the house and embraced Roberta. Pulling away after a couple of seconds, she urged the girls into the house. A man, who appeared to be a butler, walked out to pay the drivers before carrying in the luggage.
The woman was, of course, Roberta's mother; the girls recognizing her as soon as they saw her. Once they had removed their coats and warmed a bit, Amelia, Elizabeth, and Martha began asking innocent questions about the family, the house, the neighborhood, and the city with a rapidity intended to confuse. Roberta was amazed that so little of the information was new to her, a fact she related later when she and her friends were alone in her bedroom.
"I know everything," Roberta declared with a smile. "I can see images in my mind of my younger brother and sister, my father, and dozens of relatives, friends, and shopkeepers. It's like I've lived my entire life as Roberta."
"That's wonderful," Amelia said. "If the rest of us can rely on recalling so much of our predecessor's life once we're in our new surroundings, we'll have little difficulty fitting in. I feel much better now about our chances of going undetected."
"Perhaps we should stay overnight anyway," Elizabeth said, "just in case."
"Of course," Roberta said. "It's not necessary, but I hope you will. We have plenty of room. Amelia and Martha can stay in the guest bedroom on this floor, and you can stay in here with me."
The girls were introduced to Roberta's younger brother and sister as they arrived home from school, and that evening they met her father. Delighted that his daughter was safely home again, he held out his arms to embrace her before he had even removed his greatcoat. To Amelia it seemed that Roberta appeared a little uncomfortable, at least at first, but she stepped into his arms and hugged him as he kissed her cheek.
Amelia, Martha, and Elizabeth left the next day, confident that Roberta would have no problems fitting in with the Johnson family.
On their way to Elizabeth's home in New Haven, they passed through the city of Hartford. Although they never considered stopping, they were able to catch a first glimpse of the city from the train. There was little to see however because snow covered everything, softening land contours and hiding the unsightly scars found in every industrialized city.
Elizabeth's home was a large two-story frame structure sitting squarely in the center of a two-acre lot. Like Roberta's home, and others in the neighborhood, it had its own small carriage house and barn in the rear yard. The girls discovered that Elizabeth's mother and father were away, but the maid who let them in greeted them as if she knew them all very well, and they all recalled her name as soon as she opened the door. A gallery of pictures on the walls and on the fireplace mantle in the parlor immediately reignited dormant memories in Elizabeth's head and she was able to identify every individual.
Martha and Amelia spent the next two days with Elizabeth, until her parents returned home with Elizabeth's younger brother. By then Elizabeth had become comfortable in the house, and didn't require any additional support.
As Martha and Amelia headed for Hartford, and home, they discussed their memories of the city. They discovered that as they talked they recalled more and more about a city both had only visited briefly as Arlene and Megan. More importantly, their recollections were mostly of Hartford in the nineteenth century.
Arriving at the train station, they stepped off the platform of the ancient passenger coach, and made arrangements with a freight wagon driver to take Amelia's things to her home. She paid the fee that he had to collect, and gave him a generous tip of a shiny new dime. Martha and Amelia then hired a carriage to take them to Martha's family home. The driver carried her trunk and suitcases up onto the front porch of the enormous wood frame house, and smiled widely before expressing his appreciation for their generosity when also tipped a dime for his efforts.
A butler, hearing the commotion, opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch to investigate. Of average height, and with a receding hairline, he appeared to be about fifty years of age. Amelia had noted that although clean-shaven adult males seemed a rarity in this time, facial hair was seldom a feature on male domestics such as butlers, coachmen, and liverymen. The Fuller's major domo perpetuated that observation.
He smiled warmly at Martha and said, "Welcome home, Miss Martha. The house just hasn't been the same with you away for so long."
Martha instantly recognized his countenance, and returned his smile before saying, "Thank you, James. It does seem like a long time, doesn't it? I'm very happy to be home again. You remember my good friend, Miss Turner, don't you?"
"Of course, I do. It's wonderful to see you again, Miss Turner," he said smiling.
Returning his smile, Amelia said, "Thank you."
"Who is it, James?" wafted out of the house.
"It's Miss Martha, madam, and her friend, Miss Turner."
A middle-aged woman, elegantly dressed and bearing a striking resemblance to Martha, stepped out onto the porch and rushed to her daughter. Embracing her, she said, "Oh, it's so wonderful to have my baby home. I've missed you so much." Separating from Martha, she held out her arms to Amelia. "And Amelia, it's wonderful to see you safely home also."
Amelia went to her, embraced her lightly, and touched cheeks.
While Martha's mother led the two women into the house, James brought Martha's trunk and suitcases inside the house and set them down in the foyer. As he climbed the stairs with the first suitcase, Martha told her mother that they wanted to freshen up a little after their trip.
"Don't be long, girls. Lunch will be ready soon."
"We won't, Mummy," Martha said.
Martha's room was by far the largest and most luxuriously decorated of the young women's bedrooms. Her closets were full of beautiful and expensive clothes and she would lack for nothing in this household. The girls used the bathroom to freshen up, and then went back downstairs to join Martha's mother in the dining room.
They had just taken their seats for lunch when James entered and announced, "Miss Turner's mother is here, madam."
Mrs. Fuller immediately said, "Well, don't keep her waiting in the foyer, James, show her in."
Amelia rose and smiled as a stunning woman of about 40 walked into the room and rushed to embrace her. A little shorter than Amelia herself, the woman shared the same classical features, but where Amelia's hair was brown, her mother's was auburn. Martha's mother had been gaining weight as she grew older, but Amelia's mother still had the slim figure she'd maintained since she was a young woman.
"When your trunks arrived, I knew that you would be over here," she said to Amelia. "I couldn't wait to see you again. You look wonderful, darling." She pulled away from Amelia to say, "Martha, you're looking very well. And Louisa, how have you been? We haven't seen each other in ages." She released Amelia to lightly embrace the other women and touch cheeks with both.
"Kathleen," Mrs. Fuller said, "it's been far too long. Can you join us for lunch?"
"Thank you, Louisa. I'd love to." Removing her coat, she placed it into the waiting hands of James. "Isn't it wonderful to have our girls home again? I was so worried when that dreadful storm hit just after they left. I had the most awful feeling that we would never see them again. I can't tell you
how tremendously relieved I was when I received a telegram from Mr. Westfield informing me that they had arrived safely. I'd barely slept for several days. I kept seeing a picture in my mind of them perishing. I saw them huddled together in a carriage, trying to protect themselves from the ferocity of that awful storm. My husband said I was being foolish, but agreed to take me to the Westfield's as soon as the weather permitted. But when we received the telegram, we cancelled our plans, and I got my first good night's sleep in days. And now our babies are back home where they belong. I'm so happy."
"I know exactly what you mean," Mrs. Fuller said. "I had a similar vision. My husband said that I was just overreacting to the storm. But I saw it all so clearly. The telegram that we received from Mr. Westfield allowed me to relax as well, but I still see that strange vision of Martha and the other girls, freezing in a coach that became stuck in a snowdrift. I guess that my husband was right; I was being silly. Our girls are obviously healthy."
The visions of both mothers had completely unnerved Amelia, and she later invited Martha to come over to visit her the following day, desperate for an opportunity to compare notes as soon as possible. Was there a closer bond between these women and their children than she had suspected, or were they also getting visions from the spirits of the girls that had departed these bodies? Perhaps the spirits had been trying to prepare their parents, so the shock wouldn't be so great when the terrible news arrived? If their bond with their daughters had been so strong, would their mothers discover that these girls were not the genuine article? The two young women would have to be very careful until they were sure they had been accepted without question. Taking over somebody's identity is not so easy, even if you look like the genuine article. Facial expressions, mannerisms, attitudes, and even the way a person stands and walks are a critical part of everyone's persona.
When The Spirit Moves You Page 18