The Lovers (Echoes From The Past)

by Irina Shapiro

  November 2013

  Surrey, England

  It took Quinn several hours to get to sleep after the confrontation with Gabe, and when she finally managed to doze off, her sleep was fitful and plagued by strange dreams. She was in seventeenth-century London, alone and terrified. Everywhere people were dying of the plague, and piles of dead bodies were carelessly left to rot, the stench so overpowering that it was nearly impossible to draw breath. She tried to run, but her huge belly slowed her down, and she felt exhausted and out of breath after only a few steps. Each street wound up being a dead end. Quinn felt overwhelming panic as she tried to find a way out of the labyrinth of tiny alleyways, but everywhere she went, there were red crosses on wooden doors and carts full of corpses.

  Quinn breathed a sigh of relief when a carriage pulled up, driven by Rhys Morgan, who looked right at home in seventeenth-century attire. He smiled at her and invited her to get in. Quinn felt tremendous relief as she climbed in, but it was short-lived since the carriage wasn’t empty. Gabe was slumped in the corner, his head resting against the side of the vehicle. He was gray and clammy, his eyes vacant as he stared at her. He was obviously ill. Quinn reached out to him, but he pushed her hand away, lifting his arm to reveal an egg-size bubo in his armpit. Quinn screamed and jumped out of the carriage, which drove away without her.

  Quinn woke with a start, her heart pounding with fear and her forehead covered in cold sweat. It took her several minutes to calm down and remember that she was at home in her own bed. She put a hand to her stomach, breathing a sigh of relief to find it still flat. She’d never been pregnant, but the love she felt toward the baby in her dream had been all encompassing. She would have done anything to protect her unborn child, anything at all.

  Quinn turned on a bedside lamp and angrily wiped the tears from her eyes. She supposed the feeling must have been there all along, but she was conscious of it for the first time. She didn’t just want a child—she’d never feel complete without one. Luke didn’t really want children, so she resigned herself to possibly never becoming a mother if she married him. It had been a sacrifice she was prepared to make, but now, suddenly, she realized that she’d never actually thought it through. They had both been busy with their careers, their lives too hectic to start a family, but now she was nearly thirty, and the desire for a baby filled her with the kind of longing that took her breath away. Was she channeling Elise somehow? Elise hadn’t wanted a baby, but once she found out she was pregnant, her maternal instinct took over, her love for her baby as natural as day turning into night.

  Quinn got out of bed and went to get a glass of water. She was still shaken by the dream. It left her confused and weepy. She sat down in front of the cold hearth and stared into the ashes of last night’s fire. She’d been unusually emotional since “meeting” Elise, and some of Elise’s feelings seemed to find their way into Quinn’s own heart. She’d never experienced this before, not with any of the people whose lives she’d been privileged enough to see, not even Grandma Ruth’s. She’d always been an impartial observer, not a participant.

  “You’re really losing the plot, Allenby,” she said out loud as she finished her drink and padded back to bed. “Get a grip.”

  Chapter 40

  June 1665

  Road to Suffolk

  The rain came down in nearly horizontal sheets of water. Elise ran toward the carriage, her impractical shoes getting soaked in mere moments and squelching loudly. The hem of her skirt was muddy, and rainwater ran into her bodice, but it felt good on her skin, and the air smelled fresh and summery. Elise turned her face up to the sky, put her arms out, and did a graceful pirouette, as if she were performing some pagan rain dance. She came to a stop and closed her eyes, savoring the moment. Elise couldn’t recall the last time she felt such a sense of abandon. It was as if the chains binding her grew slacker with every mile that separated her from London and her husband.

  Elise opened her eyes to find James watching her. Rain dripped from the brim of his hat and his coat was soaked, but he didn’t seem to notice as he gave Elise a warm smile before handing her into the carriage. They’d barely spoken since he came to fetch her yesterday, but there seemed to be a kind of new understanding between them, an unspoken bond. Peg dashed from the door of the inn to the carriage and jumped in, collapsing onto the seat. She was remarkably dry.

  “Ye’ll get a chill,” she said reproachfully. “Just look at the state of ye.”

  “Stop fussing, Peg. It feels good,” Elise retorted, feeling chastened nonetheless. Her behavior wasn’t ladylike, but she didn’t feel much like a lady. She felt like her old self, a carefree girl who was full of hopes and dreams. The carriage lurched, and they got on their way. It would take longer to get to Suffolk than anticipated, what with the roads awash and the wheels getting stuck every few miles, but Elise didn’t care. She was in no rush to get to their destination. While on the road, she was free. Once they arrived, she’d be Lady Asher again, and she would no longer be invisible. And sooner or later, she would have to return. The thought was soul crushing, so she put it out of her mind for the time being. She would enjoy this, no matter what.

  The manor house was located two miles west of the town of Southwold on the shore of the North Sea and was built of forbidding gray stone. The crenelated tower was silhouetted against the leaden sky, its sections like giant teeth taking a bite out of the heavens. The estate was vast and well managed, by all accounts, the parkland full of game. Elise gazed up at the great house as the carriage drew closer. It stood atop a slight incline, like a fortress. She supposed that it might have been a fortress once, as the middle section appeared to have been part of a keep, and the dip in the ground that surrounded the house might have been a moat. Elise looked for any evidence of a curtain wall but found none. Perhaps her imagination was getting the better of her.

  James did not drive the carriage up to the front door but stopped in front of the stables, where he unhitched the horses and led them away to be fed and watered after helping Elise, Barbara, and Peg alight from the carriage. They walked slowly toward the house, taking in their surroundings. All the windows were shuttered. The massive oak door remained firmly closed, and there seemed to be no activity in or around the building. There didn’t even appear to be a groom to see to the horses.

  “Where is everyone?” Peg asked as she looked around in dismay.

  “The house is closed up,” James said as he approached them, having dealt with the horses and carriage.

  “Where have you been staying?” Elise asked, wondering what James had been up to these past few months.

  “At the gamekeeper’s cottage. The man died near a year ago, and it’s been vacant since, so I took it over.”

  “Is that where we will stay?” Elise asked carefully.

  “You are the lady of the house, so it’s only proper that you stay in the house. I’ll send word to Master Grove, the estate manager, that you have arrived, and he will see to provisions and servants. You can stay with me until the house is fit for habitation. Peg will act as chaperone,” he added with a wry smile. “It’s just through there.”

  James took hold of Elise’s valise with one hand and offered his other hand to Barbara, who took it eagerly. He led them down a narrow, wooded path that seemed to stretch on for miles. Peg followed behind, muttering under her breath. Unlike Lucy, whose disposition had been sunny, Peg was a complainer, and her mouth was more often pouty than smiling. Having lived in London all her life, Peg wasn’t used to walking long distances and was out of breath by the time they finally arrived at the clearing where the cottage was situated.

  The cottage was small but clean and comfortable. The first room consisted of a large hearth, a table with two narrow benches, a wooden chest, and an alcove for a bed. The second room held a larger bed, another chest at the foot of the bed, and a nightstand with a pitcher, basin, and a pewter candlestick. There was also a loft accessible by a ladder.

  “Have you been living here
all on your own?” Elise asked, taking in the surprising orderliness of the place.

  “Master Grove’s daughter, Lizzie, comes by twice a week. She cleans and cooks for me.” James seemed at bit uncomfortable at the mention of Lizzie, and Elise felt a pang of jealousy, which she quickly suppressed. What right did she have to be angry? James was a free man, and if he found some comfort in the arms of a comely maid, well that was his business.

  “She’s thirteen,” James said pointedly, as if reading her thoughts.

  “Ah. Is she a good cook, then?” Elise asked to hide her embarrassment. Was she so transparent?

  “Passable.” James glanced at Peg who instantly bristled.

  “Well, don’t ye look at me. I ain’t no kitchen maid.”

  James shrugged and carried Elise’s bag into the bedroom. “You can sleep in here, your ladyship. Lady Barbara, it’s the alcove for you, and Peg can take the loft. There’s a cot up there.”

  Peg didn’t look pleased since she’d been clearly hoping that James would take the loft and leave her to sleep in the alcove, where it was bound to be warmer and dryer, but she wisely refrained from commenting. She was lucky to be away from London, and she knew it. Peg took her small bundle and climbed up the ladder, eager to investigate her sleeping quarters.

  “And where will you sleep?” Elise asked.

  “On the floor. I’ll be fine, don’t you worry,” James added, seeing her expression. “It won’t be the first time. I’ll call on Master Grove and inform him of your arrival,” James said as soon as Peg disappeared up the ladder.

  James looked at Elise as if he wished to say something more, then turned on his heel and left. Barbara sat down by the window and took a piece of embroidery out of her basket, instantly content. There was nothing for Elise to do, so she stretched out on the bed and placed her hands on her belly. The baby gave a hearty kick, making Elise smile. She didn’t wish to stay in the big, empty house. She liked it just fine here and would have gladly kept the knowledge of her arrival from the estate manager. How wonderful it would be to simply vanish for a while and live as she pleased with no one watching her or passing judgment. A place to sleep and simple, country food was all she needed to be happy, and James and Peg were company enough. But, she was Lady Asher, and James wouldn’t hear of it. Besides, he wouldn’t wish them infringing on his privacy.

  Chapter 41

  When James returned an hour later, he was accompanied by a young girl, who curtsied to Elise as if she were the queen, nearly dropping the basket she carried. Lizzie was thin and willowy, with abundant brown hair and large dark eyes. She unpacked the supplies she brought and went to work immediately, and within the hour the small house was filled with the smells of cooking. Once Lizzie got the stew going, she deftly kneaded some dough and made it into four loaves, which she placed in an opening on the side of the hearth to bake while the stew bubbled over the open flame.

  Elise’s mouth watered with hunger, but she’d have to be patient. Instead, she asked James to bring some water from the well and she washed hastily and put on a fresh gown. The one from that morning was still damp. Peg arranged it on the bench, which she pulled up to the hearth so that the gown could dry.

  “That smells wonderful, Lizzie,” Elise said as she inhaled the rich fragrance of cooking meat.

  “Thank ye, me lady. Me da caught the rabbits just this mornin’ and me ma skinned them quick-like once she found out ye’d arrived.” Lizzie suddenly looked worried, realizing that she’d just unwittingly admitted that her father helped himself to the master’s game. Some might see that as poaching, but Elise saw it as nothing more than good sense.

  “Well, how clever of them,” she said, smiling at the girl. “Do you have a big family?” Elise asked. She liked this sprite of a girl.

  “I have three younger brothers, me lady. Two of them is twins, but they look nothin’ alike. And me mam is breedin’ again. I do hope ’tis a girl this time. I want a sister, I do. Brothers are useless,” she added with a pout.

  “You might change your mind once they’re older,” James said with a grin. “They’ll look after you.”

  “Hmm,” Lizzie said, her tone dubious. “More like I’ll be lookin’ after them.”

  Elise thought there was some truth to that but didn’t comment. Perhaps Lizzie would be wed at a young age and have her own family to take care of, leaving her younger brothers to fend for themselves until they found brides.

  “I’ll have to take care of Joe for sure,” she continued, warming up to her theme. “He’s mute. Soft in the head too,” she added, tapping herself on the temple.

  “That must be hard on your parents,” Elise said, wondering if Barbara heard what Lizzie just said, but her expression remained impassive as she continued to focus on her needlework.

  “Neh. He don’t do much, but he’s strong, so Da puts him to work chopping wood and helping Ma round the house. He’s harmless.”

  Lizzie pulled the pot out of the hearth and stirred the contents, releasing fragrant steam into the room. “This could use another hour or so, but I know ye’re hungry, and the meat is cooked through. Shall I serve it now?” she asked.

  “Please do. I’m famished. It’s time to eat, Barbara,” she said. Barbara obediently set aside her embroidery and took a seat at the table. Elise sat down next to her and accepted a bowl of stew. James sliced the bread, and Peg poured out some ale.

  “Won’t you join us, Lizzie?” Elise asked. “There’s plenty for everyone.”

  “Thank ye, yer ladyship, but I must be away,” Lizzie replied shyly. “If you’ll leave the dishes, I’ll do them first thing tomorrow mornin’ for ye when I bring breakfast.” She executed another curtsey and left, taking the empty basket with her.

  The stew was delicious, and Elise ate her fill before declaring herself ready for bed. Peg helped her undress and brushed out her hair while James saw to the dirty dishes and covered the remaining bread so that it wouldn’t grow stale overnight. There was no need for a fire since the night was warm, so Elise said goodnight and closed her door. Barbara was already in her bed, snoring lightly behind the curtains. Elise longed to talk to James, but nothing other than pleasantries had been exchanged between them thus far, and Peg was constantly about, making it difficult to find a moment of privacy. Elise wasn’t concerned about Barbara overhearing them, but Peg was a different matter.

  Elise drifted off to sleep only to be woken what seemed like a few moments later by the opening of her door. She peered into the darkness, trying to make out who it was. She thought it might be Barbara but discovered James standing by the foot of the bed. He looked uncertain for a moment, then came around and climbed in next to Elise. This was not what she expected, but she shifted her body to make room for him. James didn’t say anything, just cupped her cheek, stroking her face with his thumb tenderly.

  Elise opened her mouth to ask him what he thought he was doing when his lips came down on hers and he kissed her gently. This wasn’t a passionate kiss, brought on by desire; this kiss was tender and full of feeling. She knew that she should push him away and ask him to leave, no good could come of this, but something at her core seemed to melt. It had been so long since anyone touched her, especially with love. James’s hand slid downward and rested on the swell of her belly. He didn’t say anything, but she knew the gesture for what it was. He was claiming ownership and making a connection with his child. He’d never touched her this way before, had never gazed into her eyes like this, fearing too great an intimacy. But now he was looking at her, and she was looking back.

  Elise reached out and stroked his face. His jaw was covered with three-day stubble, and his cheeks seemed leaner than before, as if he hadn’t been eating well of late. He sighed quietly when she ran her hand over his well-muscled chest. Elise felt James’s heartbeat beneath her fingertips. His heart seemed to be pounding, or was that hers?

  Elise expected James to say something, but he suddenly got out of bed, kissed her on the forehead, and vanished
into the other room, leaving her completely bemused. Elise gazed after him for a long moment, unsure if he might be coming back, then closed her eyes and willed herself to go to sleep. It had been a long day, and they’d have plenty of time to talk later.

  Chapter 42

  November 2013

  Surrey, England

  When Quinn woke up on Saturday morning after her fragmented night of sleep, she felt grumpy and depressed. Her head ached, and random scenes from the awful dream kept popping into her mind. The row with Gabe weighed heavily on her mind, and she suddenly felt like a caged animal, desperate to get out. She made herself a cup of strong coffee, dressed hastily, and fled the house. She needed to talk to someone, and that someone was Jill.

  Quinn glanced at the dashboard clock. It had just gone 9:00 a.m., so by the time she got to London, Jill would just be opening her shop. Quinn didn’t think Jill would mind her popping by. She was in the shop alone all day, and Quinn was more than willing to help out with whatever needed doing. She had no wish to be underfoot, only to enjoy a bit of her cousin’s company. She picked up two cappuccinos and several almond croissants on the way. She hadn’t had anything to eat since lunchtime of the previous day, and Jill, despite her slender build, was always up for a cup of coffee and a pastry.

  Jill was already working, rearranging some summer clothes on a rack closest to the door and marking them down for a clearance sale in order to make room for new winter inventory. She was wearing a long colorful blouse with a pair of black leggings and comfortable suede boots. Jill’s blonde hair was piled high on her head, errant curls framing her lovely face as she smiled in welcome.

  “Have you come to return your clothes?” she asked with a look of mock horror. “All sales are final,” she added with a chuckle, although, of course they weren’t.

  “No, I’ve come to buy more. And to talk.”

  “And you’ve brought treats.” Jill oohed as she took in the box of pastries and the steaming cups of cappuccino. “I’ve been here since seven, reorganizing all these racks. People just hang things up willy-nilly without any thought for size or order.” Jilly pouted, the pedant in her clawing its way out.