Emily's Song

by Christine Marciniak

  Sam held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t enlist yet. George only now convinced me to go with him to join Yuengling’s company.”

  The pout was back.

  “You should discuss these things with me. I’m to be your wife, after all.”

  “I suppose I should.” It hadn’t even occurred to him that Dinah would want a say in the matter.

  “We’ll have to have the wedding before you go. Then I can move in here as mistress of Bonne Terra.”

  Sam’s eyebrows shot up. He was fairly certain that if his father moved back to run the plantation, his mother would quite rightly expect to be mistress of the house, but those details could be sorted out later.

  “I don’t know when we’d need to leave,” Sam said. “I’m not sure I want to rush into anything.”

  “It’s hardly rushing, Samuel.” Dinah tapped him on the arm flirtatiously with her fan. “We are engaged, after all. No one would think it odd if we got married before you left. In fact, they would think it mighty odd if we did not.”

  “There will be so much to do.” Agreeing to marry Dinah was one thing, actually doing it, in the next couple of weeks, he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

  “It wouldn’t be fair to you to not be able to give you a proper party.” If he knew anything about Dinah, it was that she enjoyed a good party.

  “Oh, we can make a party on short notice.” She brightened as if all the objections had been swept away. “That isn’t a problem. My mother can work magic in that regard.”

  “It’s hardly fair to marry you and then immediately leave.”

  “Is it any more fair to leave me, promised in marriage, but not actually with benefit of marriage when you go off?” She quirked one eyebrow at him.

  Tobias came onto the porch. “Dinner is served, sir.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. He’d have to sort things out with Dinah, figure out if they were to get married before he left or wait until he came back. These were things they could only discuss once he had a bit more information himself, and it was a discussion they could have without the presence of George Phelps.

  He tucked Dinah’s arm into his and led her into the dining room. When they got there, Miss Parks stood by the table, in a brown and gold dress, looking most uncomfortable.

  “Who are you?”

  Dinah clutched at his arm, and he patted her hand reflexively while glancing between her with her eyes narrowed in accusation, to Miss Parks, pale and uncertain.

  Who was their mystery guest?

  Chapter Seven

  Emily

  Emily had been stripped and scrubbed and dressed again, all while completely numb, inside and out. She was still here. Still trapped in the 1800s. She didn’t get home. What would Dayna and Johnson do when they couldn’t find her? What about her parents? They were going to panic. And who was going to pay the rent on her apartment? She’d be evicted. And she had to get to work tomorrow. She’d worked too hard to get her CPA and a job with one of the biggest accounting firms in town to lose her job because she’d fallen into the past and couldn’t call to explain.

  Ha! Like any explanation was possible. She could picture the call to Toni, her boss. “Hi, Toni, I can’t come to work today, I’m in eighteen sixty-one.” Yeah, that would work. At least tax season had ended, maybe they’d forgive her if she only missed a day or two. But how on earth was she going to get home?

  “Mr. Marshall is expecting you downstairs for dinner.” Beck finished her ministrations. “That is, if you feel well enough.”

  Dinner. Could she even think of eating at a time like this? But if she had to stick around a little longer, she would need her strength. Forgoing meals was not the way to do that. True she was probably in a state of shock, if her freezing, shaking hands were any indication, but she wasn’t actually physically ill.

  “Thank you, yes. I feel fine.” Fine might be a bit of a stretch.

  “Mr. Phelps is here, too,” Beck continued.

  That made sense, since he helped pull her out of the pond.

  “And your friend came by. I imagine she’ll be dining as well.”

  “My friend?”

  “Miss Johnson.”

  Suddenly she didn’t feel particularly hungry. It was one thing to say she was friends with this person she’d never met when she was only going to be around for a little while. But now she didn’t know how to get home and Miss Johnson would know she didn’t know her.

  “Are you going down, miss?”

  She could say she felt ill and put off the inevitable. The thing about the inevitable though, it always gets there eventually. She might as well deal with it now.

  Oh, how she wished Dayna were here. Dayna would help her come up with some solution; she was quick on her feet like that. Emily looked at the maid who had tended to her and dressed her. She looked so much like Dayna it was scary. Maybe she could help her. It was tempting to ask her, but when she opened her mouth to speak she remembered this woman was a slave, she had her own troubles.

  She was on her own.

  “Yes, I’m going down.” She took a deep breath and stuck her chin out. She might be going down, but she’d go down fighting.

  She dragged her feet on the way to the dining room, which seemed much closer than it had at breakfast. She’d have to admit she lied. That would be fairly obvious to everyone. But what explanation could she give?

  How about the truth? She’d been at her best friend’s wedding in the twenty-first century, fallen into the fish pond and ended up in the nineteenth century. Sure. Everyone would believe that.

  She’d have to come up with another lie.

  Maybe she could faint. Weren’t nineteenth-century women known for having vapors and passing out whenever it was convenient? If they were always trussed up in corsets like this, she could believe that would happen regularly.

  No one else was in the dining room when she got there, but she could hear them approaching. She clutched the carved back of the dining room chair. She wished she were anywhere but here, but this was the reality she had to deal with right now. Reality. That was a laugh. Maybe it was all a dream. Let it be a dream. If she willed herself to wake up, maybe she would. She could sometimes do that during bad dreams.

  Wake up. Wake up. Please, wake up.

  Nothing changed.

  Samuel Marshall entered the dining room with a petite girl with blonde curls and dimples. She was probably one of the prettiest girls Emily had ever seen, making her feel large and dumpy in comparison. So, this was Dinah Johnson, fiancée to the handsome Sam Marshall. They certainly made an attractive couple.

  “Who are you?” Dinah’s eyes narrowed menacingly, her tone somewhere between accusatory and confused.

  “Emily Parks.” At least that part she could say without lying.

  “Why did you tell Mr. Marshall you are my friend? I don’t know you.”

  Dinah knew how to get right to the point.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought it would be an easier explanation. And I didn’t plan to be here for very long.” All very true.

  “An easier explanation than what?” Dinah demanded.

  Okay, now the lies were going to have to start, because no one would believe the truth. Then again, what did she have to lose by telling them the truth? It was the truth after all, and it was always better to tell the truth. Right?

  She swallowed hard and blinked back tears. How had she gotten herself into this mess? She was never playing a drinking game again. “Do you think I might have a glass of water?”

  Samuel nodded to a young black girl standing in the doorway, and she rushed off. George Phelps hurried to Emily’s side and pulled her chair out for her.

  “Please, sit down, Miss Parks,” he said.

  Soon she was seated and had a cold glass of well water in front of her. She took a sip and looked around at the expectant faces. They didn’t trust her. Why should they? She showed up out of nowhere and lied to them. What were they expecting her to t
ell them now? Certainly not what she was about to say.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but a serving girl came in with a platter of ham and put some on each plate. Next, they were dished up potatoes and applesauce. Finally, when their plates were full, she spoke.

  “I’m sorry I lied. The thing is, I don’t know how I got here. You see, I—”

  She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell them she was from the future. They’d think she was crazy. And what did they do to crazy people in the nineteenth century? They locked them up in asylums that were positively primitive. No. She couldn’t take that chance, not with people she didn’t know.

  “No, that’s not entirely true. I was at a party in the ballroom.” That part was at least true.

  “Who did you come with?” Sam asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

  She supposed saying the bridal party would raise even more questions. They were going to know everyone at the ball. She couldn’t make someone up.

  “I came by myself.” Also true, to a point, since she hadn’t brought a guest to the wedding.

  Dinah covered her mouth with her dainty hand. “Alone? No escort? No invitation?”

  Apparently, that wasn’t something a person would do in this time and place. Though showing up at a private party without an invitation or as the guest of someone else pretty much wasn’t done in any time. Emily would certainly never do it and would look quite askance at someone who did. In that, she was in full agreement with Dinah.

  It shouldn’t matter. She would go home and never see these people again, but she didn’t want them to think badly of her. She wanted to justify her appearance here, even though it really wasn’t justifiable, even to her.

  “I’m new to the area,” she said, casually cutting her meat and pretending this was the most logical explanation in the world. And maybe it was, at that, since the only other explanation she could come up with was that the fishpond was some sort of a time portal, which wasn’t a very logical explanation. “And I don’t know anyone that well. I heard about the ball. People were talking about it downtown, so I decided to come. I thought no one would mind an extra person, and I thought maybe I could meet some people, make some friends. I’ve been lonely.”

  She watched Dinah to see if her story would get her sympathy or more censure.

  Dinah however kept tight control of her face. It would take a lot to win her over, if she even needed to, which really she didn’t.

  “Why didn’t you and your mother go visiting in the neighborhood?” Dinah leaned forward, watching her intently.

  “My mother is not with me any longer.” It was true enough as far as it went. Her mother was in a different time and place and soon would start to panic about the whereabouts of her only daughter.

  “I’m so sorry,” Sam said with genuine emotion. Emily shifted her gaze to him. It probably wasn’t Dinah she needed sympathy from, but Sam. After all, she needed his continued hospitality until she could figure out how to get home.

  “So,” George, seated beside her, sounded amused. “You simply invited yourself to the ball?”

  She looked at him. His bottom teeth were crowded, and he could use a haircut, but he had a round, open face that made him seem like the kind of person you really wanted for a friend.

  “I know it was wrong.” This was not the time to go on the defensive. “And I’m really sorry.”

  “Where do you live?” Sam voice was still sympathetic. “We’ll drive you home after we eat.”

  Oh. She hadn’t thought this through to its logical conclusion, had she?

  “Really, there’s no need. Someone should be coming for me very soon.”

  “You expected them before this, perhaps they do not know where to come for you.” He gestured with his knife, until Dinah put her hand on his arm, and he put it down on his plate. “It is no trouble to take you home.”

  No trouble for him maybe, but what were they going to do when there was no home for them to drop her off at. Why couldn’t she simply faint on demand? It would be so much easier.

  “We have a house in town,” she said finally. That seemed safe enough. There were houses in town and presumably these people couldn’t know everyone who lived in them.

  “We’ll drive you home after we eat.” Sam picked up his knife again, ready to eat, now that this was settled. “It’s a nice day for a ride.”

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Once dropped off, she could walk back to the plantation and try the fish pond again. She would just have to stay out of sight.

  “Thank you.” She hoped she sounded appropriately thankful instead of terrified.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t meet you at the ball last night,” George said, pausing in cutting his meat. “I’m always looking for a new dance partner.”

  “That’s because you step on toes, and the girls all want to preserve their feet,” Dinah answered with the teasing ease of long friendship.

  “I’m not a very good dancer.” She wasn’t bad at dancing in the twenty-first century, but if put to the test with real ballroom dancing, she’d fail for certain.

  “Then you would be perfect for me. Next time there’s a ball, you’ll be sure to be an official guest, because you’ll go with me. How does that sound?”

  George grinned, and she grinned back. It was impossible not to like George. But inside she sighed. A guy finally showed interest, and it’s in the wrong century. Figured.

  “Lovely, thank you.” Who knows, if she couldn’t find a way home, perhaps she’d be around for the next ball. God forbid.

  She pushed her food around on her plate. What had she done wrong when she went back to the fishpond? Maybe it was more than just the fishpond. The silver from her ring was missing. Maybe she needed more silver to make it work. She glanced at the fork in her hand. Silver. Why not be a thief on top of everything else? It’s not like they’d be able to do anything about it if she got back home, and if she didn’t, she, and presumably the fork, would still be here.

  “Miss Parks?” Dinah’s voice came to her as if through a fog. Of course, fog. Did the mist last night have anything to do with what happened? Did it have to be night? How could she reconstruct the exact situation?

  “Miss Parks?”

  This time the voice penetrated enough that Emily looked up to see the other three staring at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, bringing her attention back to the table. “You were saying?”

  Dinah’s smiled seemed forced, and Emily sympathized. If she were put in Dinah’s position, she’d probably react the same way. “Would you like my mother and me to introduce you around the neighborhood?”

  “Oh!” Emily was taken off guard by the offer. “That would be very kind of you.” She hoped she wouldn’t be around long enough to take her up on it.

  When she finished her meal, she tucked her fork in her sleeve. Hopefully this bit of silver would be her ticket home.

  Chapter Eight

  Sam

  As old Moses brought the barouche around to the front of the house, Sam watched Miss Parks. She stood a little apart from them, arms hugging her middle, staring out at the old fish pond. He couldn’t figure her out. She seemed uncomfortable and awkward here among them, but apparently had enough self-assurance to come to their ball without an invitation or an escort. Perhaps there was something wrong with her. When he was little, there was a family in town who had a feeble-minded daughter. He didn’t know what ever happened to her; he hadn’t seen her in years.

  “I wonder what her story really is.” Dinah came up beside him and put her hand proprietorially on his arm.

  “I imagine in time we’ll find out.” Sam reached out and touched her hand. He was tempted to remove it, but let it stay. “Since she’s clearly moved to the area.”

  “Oh, I think the less time we spend with her, the better off we’ll all be.”

  Perhaps she was right. Things were unsettled enough without adding a strange mysterious woman to the mix.

  “George seems sm
itten with her though.” Sam watched his best friend walk back and forth behind Miss Parks, clearly trying to get up the courage to speak with her.

  “George is smitten with anything in skirts who looks at him twice,” Dinah answered dismissively.

  That characterization had a certain ring of truth to it, but he didn’t like to see his best friend disparaged. He watched George assist Miss Parks as she climbed awkwardly into the barouche. She didn’t do anything with grace. It was like she had never worn a long skirt before or climbed into a carriage. Sam helped Dinah in. Now she was a woman who moved with grace and dignity, no movement out of place, he was a lucky man, having her for his own and he knew that. Anna had been graceful as well. He shut his eyes briefly. There was no benefit in thinking about Anna. Not now.

  He and George climbed into the barouche, Sam taking the front-facing seat next to Dinah, and George, naturally positioning himself next to Miss Parks. Tobias climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “Where to, sir?”

  Sam looked expectantly at Miss Parks, hoping she would give some guidance as to where they should bring her. But she said nothing, just continued to stare in the direction of the fish pond.

  Perhaps she was a mermaid and had landed here from some fantasy land, which was why she had appeared to him with no clothes on, because obviously mermaids would not wear clothing, and that was why everything else seemed so strange to her. Sam almost laughed at the ridiculousness of that thought but stopped himself in time. He wouldn’t want to have to explain himself.

  “Into town, Tobias,” Sam instructed. “We’ll be dropping Miss Parks off at her residence.”

  “Very good, sir,” Tobias answered with a tip of his hat. He clucked to the horses, and they were off.

  “Are you in the center of town or the outskirts?” Sam asked Miss Parks.

  “Oh, quite near the center, I’m sure,” she answered, with nothing like assurance in her answer. “You can drop me off in the center of town, and I’ll find my way from there.”

  “I think we ought to see you right to your door.” He was not going to simply leave this obviously vulnerable woman in the center of town with no protector.