by Jenny Lykins
It's not my memory that needs jogging.
"I am expecting Lillianna Dubose to arrive from New Orleans around noon. It was, uh, brought to my attention yesterday that it could be very damaging to your reputation to remain under my roof without a chaperone, so I sent for the widowed aunt of a dear friend of mine. I think you will find Aunt Lil to be a treasure."
"I'm sure I will," Elise managed to say, hopefully with less dread than she felt. That's all she needed. A nosy old woman interfering with their lives. Damn Angeline.
The rest of the meal went downhill from there. Reed informed her that he would be present for dinner so she and Lillianna could get acquainted, but he would in all probability be having a late supper with Angeline at her home. He was confident that Aunt Lil would do an admirable job of entertaining her.
After breakfast Elise went searching for Nell and found her inspecting the linens. She had just pulled out those that needed mending, and was placing fresh potpourri sachets between the remaining ones.
"Nell." Elise rushed forward and grabbed the old woman's gnarled hands. "We have to get busy. He's going to her house for dinner...I mean supper. Whatever. I need that dress as soon as possible. When do you think Sukie will finish it?"
Nell's smile was warm and patient. She took Elise's hand and led her to a third floor room that had been set aside for the seamstress.
"I be fixin' to come and fetch you soon as I was through with them linens. Sukie done worked up that gown and all she be needin' is to fit it on you. There weren't much to it. Miz ‘Lise. I still says you should let her put a ruffle or two..."
Elise interrupted Nell with a wave of her hand. "It's all part of the plan, Nell. It can't have a ruffle."
Sukie lowered the frock over Elise's head, and as it billowed into place she sighed with satisfaction. The mint green taffeta was almost the color of her other gown. The little dressmaker had been a wizard with her needle and had stitched up an exact replica of Elise's costume.
The wide straps fell slightly off her shoulders, and the neckline dipped to create a vee - not too low, but low enough to be seductive. The vee was repeated at the waistline, making her twentieth century waist look a bit smaller above the bell-shaped skirt. Just one thing missing. She spoke to Nell's reflection in the mirror.
"Where can I get my hands on a hoopskirt?"
"A hoopskirt?" Nell's questioning look sparked alarm in Elise, who envisioned one of her plans going down the tubes.
"Yes. You know...a crinoline. It makes the dress stand out. A stiff petticoat with a hoop in it."
Nell pondered on her description for a few moments, then her eyes lit up.
"I be right back," she said as she disappeared through the doorway. Within seconds she was back carrying an enormous crinoline. It was covered with lace ruffles and ribbons and tiny silk bows, with graduated tiers of hoops under all that fluff.
“I sees why they calls this a hoopskirt,” Nell commented, eyeing the thing as though she suspected it of something. “A while back Mistah Reed entertain a man and his wife what come from some other country...France, I believe Mistah Reed say. Anyways, they talks funny. After they left, Sukie done found this stored under the bed. They must’ve forgot it. Ain’t never seed one like this, but the lady wore them and said they was all the rage where she come from.
“She sent a message before they got on their ship in New Orleans and told Mistah Reed not to bother sending it back. To just give it to the lady lucky enough to become Mrs. Blackwell.”
Nell dropped the petticoat onto the floor and helped Elise step into it. She smiled a grandmotherly smile as she tied the tapes at Elise’s waist. “Guess that lucky lady be you.”
Elise refused to let Angeline’s face form in her thoughts.
“Only if we can make him remember me. I know that boy of yours, Nell. He can be too damned honorable for his own good.”
Nell snorted. “Don’t I know it, baby. He a good boy, But it ‘bout time he has a woman to buy these pretties for. And I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout that Angeline. Ain’t nothin’ can make that gal pretty on the inside.”
Elise’s mind focused on how she would appear before Reed in this dress. Once the crinoline was in place she shook the skirts of her gown back down and turned to view herself in the cheval glass. It was almost perfect. The skirt was not quite as wide as the one she'd worn in the future, but the change was so slight it would make no difference. The biggest difference Elise could see was the richness of the fabric and the meticulous perfection of the seamstress.
Sukie calculated what alterations would have to be made, then mumbled under her breath to Nell while Elise dropped the gown and crinoline and stepped out of them. The housekeeper nodded and mumbled back, then ducked her head, hesitating, when she turned back to Elise.
"Miz ‘Lise, Sukie say she cain't do the final fittin' until you puts on your corset."
Elise stared at the two women for several seconds while the meaning of what they said sank in. She threw her head back and laughed out loud at the thought.
"No way. I'm not strapping on one of those torture chambers. I wore a girdle once, and that was enough to kill me. Just fit the dress to me, Sukie, and don't worry about an eighteen inch waist."
Sukie seemed a bit at odds by this strange attitude and language, but she was accustomed to following orders and not asking questions. Before long Elise was back in her room, slipping the gown over her head again, with Nell trying her best to do something with Elise's hair. Elise stopped her by gently taking the arthritic brown hands in hers.
"Don't worry about the hair, Nell. This is the way I need to look. Everything's perfect. All I need to do now is set the stage."
She could hardly wait to see Reed. She'd give anything to be able to recreate the scene of their first meeting in his bedroom, but she knew that would be impossible.
As if the very thought of him conjured him up, she heard his footsteps coming down the hallway. Before she had a chance to move, there he was, filling up the open doorway with his broad shoulders and larger-than-life presence. Nell hesitated between the two for a moment, then slid from the room in silence.
This was not the way Elise would have chosen to present herself to Reed in her new gown. Oh well, she thought, make the best of it. She realized she was staring at him. Reed was, in turn, staring back at her, and it struck her that this little scenario wasn't altogether different from their first meeting.
Reed stood transfixed. Another wave of deja vu crashed over him. His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head in wonder at an inexplicable burning on his face. He was certain he was not blushing. The burn was more intense than that. Almost painful.
The sensation vanished when Elise moved toward him. She did a little spin and dropped a curtsy to show off her incredibly plain gown. Funny though, somehow it suited her. Suited her too well, in fact. A man could loose himself in the activity of just looking at her.
"How do you like it?" she questioned as she fanned the skirts out between thumb and forefinger.
She seemed so proud of it Reed decided not to question the lack of feminine gewgaws. And he definitely could not tell her how very much he did like it.
"Very becoming, Elise. I am pleased Sukie managed so quickly." She was looking at him so expectantly. What did she want him to say? The truth? He chose the coward's way out and changed the subject. "I believe Aunt Lil's carriage is coming up the road. May I escort you down the stairs?"
Elise looked a little deflated when she took his proffered arm. Perhaps he should have been more effusive with his compliments. He made a mental note to make certain he didn't repeat that mistake with the next gown. It didn't occur to him until later that he was assuming Elise would be there long enough to require another gown. He just hoped that not all her gowns would have the same effect on him.
The couple reached the bottom of the staircase just as Obiah opened the front door.
Reed coughed to cover a chuckle when his eyes fell upon his newly arrived guest.
Aunt Lil was always a treat to behold. One never knew exactly what manner of dress Lil would appear in, from the most severe black mourning to something resembling a military uniform. Today her fat, black sausage curls, shot through with generous amounts of gray, framed a pudgy, childlike face. The pink in her cheeks came as much from the exertion she expended in her attempt to mount the veranda steps as it did from a certain robust health. Yes, robust she was, and obviously with an appetite to match. A surplus of juvenile, pink ruffles in today’s costume not only matched the pink of her cheeks but created the illusion of an overstuffed doll.
Reed knew this dear lady was as lovable to be around as she was ridiculous to look at. She was also a hopeless romantic. Her husband had been the light of her life, and she had been his. When he died she had taken to living vicarious romances through her nieces and nephews. She was responsible for stopping more than one arranged marriage for the sake of love.
"Reed Blackwell, stop grinning like a fool and help Obiah get me up these steps." Lil teetered on the first step, peering up at him through a feather that hung from her bonnet. A well-aimed puff of breath blew the rather limp appendage back to its original position.
Reed snapped to attention and trotted down the steps, volunteering to sweep her into his arms and carry her inside. She rewarded him for his efforts with a swat on the arm with her pink lace fan.
After he and Obiah hefted the dear lady onto the safety of the porch she unfurled the fan and made little hummingbird motions with it in front of her face, puffing once more at the errant feather. Flicking her skirts and ruffles into voluminous proportions, she turned to Elise and smiled warmly.
"My dear child, where on earth is your corset?"
“Lil!” Reed exploded.
Elise stood stock still, her wide eyes blinking and her eyebrows at her hairline. Before his voice had died away Elise’s giggles rose to sound like windchimes in the summer breeze. Reed turned a flabbergasted look on her. Any other woman would have left their presence in an irate huff.
As he watched, Elise glided over, actually put an arm around Lillianna's shoulders, and squeezed. She became even more of an enigma to him when she spoke.
"You and I are going to get along just fine, Aunt Lil," she told the older woman, a look of pure delight and a touch of mischief written on her features.
Elise had tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help herself. She'd bitten the inside of her cheek from the moment the door opened and she'd caught a glimpse of this endearing character. But when Lil had asked the question about the corset with such wide-eyed sincerity and warmth, all was lost.
She guided Aunt Lil through the door and made her comfortable in the front parlor. Verda scurried off to fetch refreshments, and Reed made his way to a Waterford decanter of brandy. He splashed a healthy amount into a matching glass and downed it, all in one fluid movement.
"Reed Blackwell, what have you done to find this dear girl's family? Have you had Doctor Freeport look at her? Have you sent out messengers? Speak up, boy. Don't just stand there imbibing."
Reed looked as if he would choke on that last sip of liqueur, then admitted that he hadn't sent for the doctor. Elise was surprised that it hadn't occurred to her that he might. She certainly didn't want to be a victim of nineteenth century medicine unless absolutely necessary.
"Oh, I really don't feel a doctor is necessary at this point. It's obvious I'm not sick. I don't have a fever, no broken bones. Just a little memory lapse." She tried to give them her healthiest smile since they were staring at her looking unconvinced.
"You do have a point, I suppose," Reed conceded, but eyed her with a dubious gaze. "But you must promise if you feel at all out of sorts you will allow me to contact the doctor."
"Yes, sir!" she barked with an expertly executed salute. She saw their raised eyebrows and tried to turn the movement into a hair-patting maneuver.
As the afternoon passed and Elise became better acquainted with Aunt Lil, her fears of a meddling old lady vanished. Not only was the rotund woman best described as "one taco short of a combo plate," she had also commandeered the back parlor and was at the moment giving orders to have it turned into a temporary bedroom.
"The devil himself in pursuit," she said, "would not entice me to climb that staircase. What are you thinking, Reed Blackwell, to even suggest such a thing?"
*******
Elise tried to keep her mind off Reed and the fact that he had left to spend the evening with Angeline. What was he doing now? Would he even remember he had a house guest once Angeline got her sweaty palms on him? Would he kiss Angeline? Would he hold her head against his chest and assure her that the crazy woman would be gone as soon as possible?
Elise had no appetite at supper, and no desire to do anything except sit and stare into the night, willing her husband to come home. After a half-hearted attempt to learn to play whist, she excused herself from Aunt Lil and went to bed early.
She’d never felt so tired. The constant humidity and heat were taking a toll on her body. Even now a trickle of sweat inched its way between her breasts. When she entered her room she found that some well-meaning servant had closed her windows against the “bad” air from the distant swamps. She threw them open and blessed Verda when she found her bed turned down and a cool pitcher of fresh water on the stand in the corner.
Every inch of her gown, camisole and petticoat was damp. Fabric clung to her body like a wet tee shirt contestant's. She had to peel away the stifling layers, and when she finally stepped out of the last vestiges of clothing, she felt as if she'd just removed fifty pounds of excess weight. She draped the multitude of garments across every available piece of furniture to dry before staggering to the washstand.
She wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or depression that weighed her down. She found her thoughts drifting and returning to her time. She and Reed had been so happy, and now he didn't even know her. Could he forget her so completely if he had truly loved her? Had she traveled one hundred and fifty years to watch her husband marry another woman?
With automatic movements she filled the porcelain bowl and began sponging the cool water over her body. Wringing out the washcloth for the third time, she pretended it was Angeline's neck.
Could this woman really come between her and Reed? With a nauseating feeling in the pit of her stomach, she realized the inscription in the book of poems was signed by her, but it had not actually referred to Reed. Was it possible she hadn't come here to be with Reed? That she would end up with someone else? She knew with a visceral feeling that it was possible. All it would take would be to remove one stepping stone in time. To interrupt the domino effect in the chain of events of their lives. Their paths could cross in opposite directions instead of running along, side-by-side.
She couldn't allow that to happen.
The inviting bed called to her. She finished her futile attempts to cool her body and padded over to it. The night raille stuck to her skin when she tried to pull it on, so she discarded it and decided to sleep in the nude again tonight. If a wayward breeze found its way into the room she stood a better chance of reaping its benefits.
*******
Reed strode into the parlor, glanced around quickly and found only Lil. She sat at a card table, cheating at a game of solitaire. He stood quietly for a moment, wondering at the feeling of emptiness the room evoked.
"Reed Blackwell, don't stand there gawking. She retired not ten minutes ago. Now sit down here and let me trounce you in a game of whist."
To deny that he was looking for Elise would only confirm that he had been. Instead, he seated himself across from Lil and tried to catch her slight of hand with the cards.
"How was your evening with Angeline, dear boy?" Aunt Lil never took her eyes from the cards.
"Very enjoyable, thank you. Supper was delicious, as usual."
Reed started to mention the after dinner activities but decided against it. Angeline's activities had proven to be decidedly different from
those her parents had arranged.
She had requested he escort her on a stroll through the gardens, but once they'd walked into the shadows she had halted their progress and pulled him down to a bench. She then proceeded to behave in a totally alien manner, scooting up close, daring to touch his leg on occasion. When he had taken her in his arms to kiss her, she had moved his hand from her waist and guided it upward.
Reed jumped from his chair and began pacing.
"Reed Blackwell, you've displaced the cards. Well, the game is over now," Lil sighed dramatically. "I may as well retire." She shoved her chair backward, and the furniture groaned as she lifted her weight. She assessed her host with a knowing eye on her way out the door. "And I believe you should do the same."
Reed muttered a distracted "Good night" then stalked to the bell pull and rang for the butler.
"Lock up the house, Obiah. We won't be needing you anymore tonight."
"Yessir, Mistah Reed. You goes on up to bed. You looks plum done in."
Reed's thoughts matched those of his servant. Done in. That's exactly how I feel. I just wish I knew why.
As he walked quietly down the darkened hallway he saw a dim strip of light along the floor. A door opened downstairs and a gust of wind rushed passed him, blowing Elise's door open several inches. He brightened. The door stood slightly ajar, and he wondered if she was still awake for a little chat. It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes since she'd left Aunt Lil.
He poked his head into the narrow opening of the doorway and raised his hand to knock. He stopped before his knuckles ever met wood. A groan threatened to rise from his chest, and he forced himself to swallow in a desperate attempt to moisten his suddenly parched throat. A furious heat began in his face and burned a trail to the very core of his being.
In the shadows of the canopy Elise settled herself into bed. A single flickering candle on the nightstand caused faded beams of light to dance across her gleaming skin. Her hair pooled upon the pillow as she fell backward. A creamy thigh glowed as it moved into the light, then disappeared into shadows. He glimpsed the fullness of a breast before the sheet rose with agonizing slowness, partially covering it, only to reveal the smooth skin of a rounded hip.