Amelia and the other girls looked resplendent in their bridesmaid dresses, but Anne outshone them all in her wedding dress of white silk, which was as it should be. She was as happy as any bride should be on her special day, and as she walked down the garden aisle with the early afternoon sunlight reflecting off her golden hair, she seemed to positively glow. Amelia was reminded of the glow of the spirit that had brought them there, and wondered what their fates would be in the coming hours and days.
As the minister read the vows, Amelia pictured herself in Anne's place, with Jeremy as the groom. Would such a union ever take place? Or would she be whisked away, back to her future life, once Anne was married, without any memory of ever having been there? The uncertainty was maddening.
The wedding reception was the perfect celebration that every couple hopes for, and Anne and Gerald never stopped smiling for a second. When they finally left the party, on their way to a special suite in the family wing of the mansion where they would spend the night, Amelia was a little sad. She knew that Anne was just the first friend to be lost as they all moved on to the next phase in their lives. But at the same time, Amelia was also a little envious of the joy that Anne had found.
Jeremy escorted Amelia back to the bedroom she shared with Martha after the party had ended. Most of the guests had either departed for home or retired to their bedrooms. At the door he took her hands in his and said, "Miss Amelia, I have a great desire to kiss you. May I?"
"That would not be proper, Mr. Westfield. You know that only married, or engaged-to-be-married, people may kiss."
"Yes, I know." Then quickly dropping to one knee in front of her, he said, "Miss Amelia, would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife? I love you with all my heart, and I wish to devote the rest of my life to proving the depth of my regard."
While this was all that Amelia had wished for during the past month, the timing caught her totally by surprise. She stood there in shocked silence as Jeremy looked up at her expectantly, trying to interpret her mood.
* * *
Chapter Thirteen
As the silence between them grew awkward, Jeremy looked up at her with increasing anxiety. "I realize that this may come as a shock, since we have only known one another for six months, but during that time I have grown to love you more with each passing day. Since I first looked upon your handsome face in that frozen carriage so long ago, I have been totally smitten. I want you to be the mother of my children, and to be by my side for all time. Please say yes."
Tears wound a crooked path down Amelia's cheeks and her throat felt as if it was caught in a vise. Finally, she managed to croak out, "Nothing would make me happier than to become your wife…"
Jeremy smiled, stood up, and reached for her, but she held him away.
"…but there is something about me you don't know."
"What is it, my love?" he said with great concern. "Is there— someone else?"
Amelia shook her head. "No, nothing like that. It's— complicated, and I'll need time to explain it fully. If you still want me after you hear it, then you'll be pleased with my answer."
Jeremy smiled. "Whatever it is, I want you. There is nothing you could say to change that; absolutely nothing."
"Tomorrow, Jeremy. We'll take a walk on the estate grounds after breakfast and I'll tell you everything. I won't hold you to anything until you know."
"I won't be able to sleep a wink tonight. If it's not another man, I can't imagine anything that could be of such consequence that it would change my mind."
"Tomorrow, my love. I'll tell you tomorrow. Good night."
Amelia turned and opened the bedroom door. Without looking back, she stepped inside and closed it behind her.
Jeremy stood looking at the door for several seconds, then suddenly brightened and smiled again as he recalled her words. "She called me Jeremy," he said quietly, "and then she called me 'my love.' And she said I'll be pleased with her answer after I know this deep, dark secret of hers. Whatever it is," he said confidently, "she's going to be my wife." Turning, he walked to his bedroom in the family wing, humming all the way.
* * *
"Amelia, you can't," Martha said in the morning as she finished grooming Amelia's hair, horrified that her friend would even be considering such an action. "You've already told us what would happen if anyone found out."
"I have to, Martha. I'm going to tell Jeremy everything, out where no one else can hear me. I won't agree to marry him unless he knows, and accepts me for the fraud I am."
"You're not a fraud. You really are Amelia Turner, and I'm really Martha Fuller, even if we weren't born with these bodies."
A knock at the door was followed by the sound of Roberta's voice asking to come in.
"Come in, Roberta," Martha said.
"We're still here," Elizabeth said happily, as she and Roberta entered the room. "I guess that means that the paradox isn't going to send us back."
"It only means that all the proper elements haven't come together yet for time to reset itself," Amelia said.
"We have another problem," Martha said. "Amelia wants to tell Jeremy who we really are and how we got here."
"Oh Amelia," Elizabeth said, "you can't. They'll lock you up and throw away the key. You said so yourself."
"I have to. Jeremy proposed to me last night. I won't live a lie for the rest of my life."
"He proposed?" Roberta asked excitedly. "Really? How did he do it?"
Amelia smiled. "The usual way for this time, I guess. After walking me to the door, he got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife."
"That's all?" Roberta asked.
"Well, no, not all. He told me that he loves me with all his heart, having been smitten since he first saw me in the frozen carriage, and that he wants me to be the mother of his children, and be by his side always. He said that he'll spend the rest of his life showing me how much he loves me."
"Now that's a proposal," Roberta said, sighing.
"Yes," Elizabeth said, "but you still can't tell him how we got here, or who we really are."
"I have to. He has to know before we marry."
"Why? It won't make him any happier if he knows."
"Why don't you wait until after you're married," Martha suggested, "then he can't just drop you."
"If he doesn't love me for who I am, who I really am, I don't want to be his wife."
"Don't be crazy," Roberta said. "He's rich, beautiful, and a real gentleman. He's nothing like the guys that we've known in high school. Just take the ring and get him standing in front of a preacher with you."
"I've already told him that I have a secret to share before I'll consent to marry him."
"What does he know so far?" Elizabeth asked.
"Nothing. I told him it was too complicated to explain last night in the hallway."
"Fine, you're in the clear then," Elizabeth said. "Make up something else to tell him. Tell him that—"
"No, it must be the truth."
"If you tell him the truth, he'll know about us as well," Roberta said. "Then he'll tell his friends, and you'll have ruined our chances for happiness along with your own."
"You'd live a lie, with the man you're supposed to love?"
"Nothing good can come of them knowing," Roberta said. "It's not like we cheated on them or something. We don't have a terrible past that will someday come back to embarrass us or haunt us. Let's just forget about when we were first born and move on."
"Then you're not going to tell Charles?" Amelia asked, looking at Roberta.
"Of course not."
"And you're not going to tell Donald?" Amelia asked, looking at Elizabeth.
"Never."
"And you're not going to tell Tad?" Amelia asked Martha.
"Uh, not unless you think I should. Should I?"
Amelia smiled. "Only if you want to, dear. Look, I'll get Jeremy to promise never to say a word to anyone before I tell him."
"You think he can keep that promise?"
Roberta asked.
"I'll tell him that our relationship depends on it. He'll keep it."
"Okay," Elizabeth said, throwing up her hands. "I think you're making a huge mistake, but I know that once you've made up your mind, there's no way we can change it. However, if the secret does come out, I'll deny knowing anything about it, just as you said you'd do if we let it slip."
"Fair enough."
"And we won't let them ship you off to an asylum either," Roberta said.
"Thank you, but I know Jeremy won't tell anyone."
"Should we assume from this decision to marry that you're giving up on the idea of returning to our own time?" Elizabeth asked.
"I've come to believe that at some point the paradox will catch up with us. One second we'll be here, and the next we'll be back in our own time; probably with no recollection of having come here, except for perhaps a nagging memory of a previous life. Time will reset itself at some point because we were never meant to be here. So I'm going to grab all the happiness I can, for as long as I can."
The girls were silent as they descended the stairs for breakfast, each enwrapped in her own thoughts about the future and Amelia's announced intention to reveal their most closely guarded secret. As usual, the boys were waiting expectantly at the bottom of the staircase. Jeremy stepped forward first and extended his elbow towards Amelia, who smiled and slipped her own arm into his as the others paired behind them.
The dining room was still mostly empty as they entered. Many of the guests were only now rising, while others would sleep in for an extra hour or two to replenish their strength after the late party. A few would be nursing hangovers for part of the day.
* * *
Martha, Elizabeth, and Roberta watched in silence as Amelia and Jeremy left for their walk after breakfast. The other boys wanted to go for a walk as well, perhaps hoping for a little privacy with the girls, but the three girls convinced them to wait a while longer so that proper digestion of their breakfast would give them the strength for a long walk.
Amelia and Jeremy walked through the lush gardens in silence until they were well away from the house. It was another beautiful day. Wispy clouds floated gently across a bright blue sky overhead as a sweet flowery fragrance swirled gently around them. Their destination was a stand of small evergreens at the rear of the gardens. It would provide a place where they couldn't easily be discerned from the house, but from where they would be able to see anyone approaching before that person was close enough to overhear their conversation. As they slipped into the shaded area, Jeremy gestured towards a decorative granite bench in a small clearing and invited Amelia to sit.
"Now what is this terrible secret that I must know before you'll consent to become my wife?" Jeremy asked, as soon as Amelia had stopped fidgeting with her skirts.
"Before I tell you, you must promise that you will never repeat it to anyone. Should you do so, our relationship will end at that point because it will have an enormous impact on me, and others that I love. Also, I will deny ever telling you such a thing, making you look either like a liar, or a fool."
Jeremy's amused smile changed to a look of deadly seriousness, and he looked at her with narrowed eyes. "I thought this was some sort of joke, but I see now you're serious."
"Completely."
After looking at her for a few more seconds, he said, "Very well. I swear that I will never tell another living soul, unless you release me from my oath."
Amelia sat silent for a full minute, while Jeremy waited patiently. Finally he said, "Are you going to tell me?"
"Yes, I just don't know how to start."
"Start at the beginning."
"It's not that easy. When I tell you my story, you will think me mad. And I can't think of any way to tell you that won't sound completely crazy. You must promise me one more thing."
"Anything."
"You must promise me that you shan't walk away until I've finished telling you the whole story, no matter how impossible my tale sounds."
"I promise."
"Okay," Amelia said, taking a deep breath. "I probably should start this with 'Once upon a time' because it will sound like a fairy tale, but I assure you that it is not."
Jeremy gazed at her steadily, without interrupting.
"And it didn't occur in the past. Instead, this tale starts in the future, more than a hundred twenty years from now."
"A hundred twenty years— in the future?"
"Yes, now please don't interrupt."
"Yes, dear."
Amelia looked at him sharply when he used the personal term of endearment.
"Well, I have proposed marriage," he said defensively.
"Yes, you have, but I have not accepted yet."
Smiling warmly, he said, "You're correct, Miss Amelia, please continue with your story so I may propose again very soon."
"In this future time there are four teenage girls, lifelong friends whose only real concern is how to enjoy their summer vacation from school. One day they'll be sitting around while one performs tarot card readings for the others, to predict their futures; only the results from the readings are abnormally confusing. They seem steeped in ambiguity, providing multiple answers to every question. To clarify the meanings, the girls decide to hold a séance."
"A séance?"
"Yes. One of the girls believes that a spirit may be able to tell them why their futures appear so confused in the cards."
"And will they hold this séance?"
"Yes. There's a local house where a spirit is purported to roam the grounds each night. They hope that the spirit will be able to give them some answers."
"And does it?"
"I'm getting to that. Be patient."
"I'm sorry, dear. Please continue."
Amelia didn't acknowledge his use of the term of endearment this time and continued with her story.
"The girls meet late at night and sneak onto the grounds of the alleged haunted house. They try all the doors until they find one that gives way, and then walk through the house to a front room where they light candles for illumination. They talk and enjoy the snacks that they've brought, until just before midnight. As the final seconds of the day tick off, they touch hands on the table and one girl begins calling to the spirit of the house. She repeats the call over and over, with no success."
"I guess the ghost wasn't home that night. It must have been out haunting with friends."
"Shush."
Jeremy smiled, and then closed his mouth, again sure that he was being set up for a joke. He just didn't understand why Amelia had gone to such an elaborate length.
"The girls finally give up and decide to return home, but suddenly, several of their candles are extinguished. They grow nervous and hasten to leave, but when two of them run to the doors, they find them apparently locked. The others quickly pick up their possessions and hurry to the doors to help, only to find that they open easily. The four girls race through the house to the door at the other end of the corridor, where they originally entered, but find the doors there are now locked. They return to the front parlor, but they can't get in. They're trapped in the corridor. They try the front doors, but they're securely locked. And then one of them spots a luminous shape approaching. As it grows larger and closer, they back against the entry doors. And then, just as it reaches them where they stand huddled against the front doors, it takes on the appearance of a large man."
"The spirit changes into a man?"
"Yes. And before their very eyes, the corridor illuminates and music can be heard coming from the ballroom at the rear of the house. The girls suddenly feel ice-cold, scream, and then faint. When they awaken, they find themselves trapped in an incredible nightmare, where the year is 1883, and they're occupying bodies that aren't their own. They recognize no one, including themselves, and they have new names and families."
"Is this a story you've written?" Jeremy asked, smiling. "It's very entertaining."
"No, it's a story I've been living for
the past six months."
With that statement, he stopped smiling. "I don't understand."
"Six months ago I was living in the twenty-first century, and now I'm here, in the nineteenth century. It's been difficult, but we've managed to adapt."
Jeremy didn't say anything at first, as his mind raced to make sense of what he had heard. He knew that her earlier statement was correct; anyone hearing this story would think her mad. "So you're claiming to be one of four girls that came here from the future."
"We didn't come here from the future, our consciousnesses, what I consider our souls, were transferred here by the spirit of the house and placed into lifeless bodies."
"And Roberta, Elizabeth and Martha are the others."
"Yes. We are the ultimate anachronism, four twenty-first century women living a nineteenth century existence. The others will never admit it openly, though. None of us wish to be committed to an asylum."
Jeremy stood up and paced around the clearing in front of Amelia for several minutes without saying anything. Amelia took it as a positive sign that he hadn't immediately begun ridiculing her story. Suddenly he stopped and turned towards her. "Do you have any proof to support what you claim?"
"None. Our physical bodies weren't transported, so there was no way to bring any physical object along, even if we had been prepared for such a journey."
Jeremy nodded. "Why? Why would you have been brought here?"
"I believe it was done so Anne would not be distraught. If her four best friends had died while on route to participate in her wedding announcement ceremony, she would have taken it very badly. We were brought here as surrogates, so the wedding could continue on schedule, and Anne would not be hurt."
Jeremy nodded again and continued his pacing. Amelia seemed so sincere, and yet the story was too preposterous for words. He suspected that if he ridiculed it, or dismissed it, she might never speak to him again. And yet, it concurred with something that he had never understood. Stopping, he faced her again and said, "When we found you and the others, I would have sworn on my mother's grave that you had all passed away. The doctor dismissed my assessment, saying that perhaps your breathing was too shallow for me to notice. He said that he had seen similar cases where someone is believed to have expired, only to be later revived. There are stories that, in years past, people were actually buried, only to awaken and find themselves trapped below ground."
When The Spirit Moves You Page 22