Echoes of Tomorrow (25 page)

She had no idea how long she sat there, staring into space, before a gentle rap sounded at the door.

Elise called out "come in" and jumped up to straighten her gown, in hopes her caller was Reed.  Her right leg was totally numb, and she was in the middle of flailing her arms to catch her balance when the door swung inward.  Aunt Lil entered, taking quick little baby steps, her fat ringlets bouncing up and down like miniature springs.  Today she wore yellow from head to toe, resembling a somewhat overfed canary.

Elise stomped the floor with her right foot to encourage circulation, and groaned at the thought of a conversation with Lil.  Normally the old dear was entertaining, but this afternoon she had no desire to learn a cure for dropsy or how she should massage her eyeballs to maintain perfect vision.  She did have to admit, though, that Lil's recipe of borax, burnt alum, French chalk, starch, and oils of bergamot and lemon for a "perspiration powder" was not half bad as a deodorant.  It beat the heck out of everything else she'd tried.

"What is the matter with you, child?  If your foot is asleep, hold your breath and pinch your left earlobe.  Now, I'm not one to mince words," Lil continued without stopping to catch her breath, "so I'll get right to the point.  You have to learn the rules of the game, my dear girl.  You learn the rules, and learn them well, and then you will know which rules can be broken, and when to break them.  Do you understand what I am saying?"

Elise was concentrating more on the needles that were now prickling her right leg.  She did, however, nod an affirmation as she limped around the room massaging her leg and pinching her earlobe.

Lil stepped into Elise's path and cupped her face with gentle hands.  When she spoke, Elise saw that her eyes were clear and her face sympathetic.

"You give credence to my words, dear girl.  They will stand you in good stead."

Elise blinked and murmured, "Yes, ma'am," as the meaning of Lil's words sank in with clarity.

"Now then.  Nell!"  Lil trilled the name as she bobbed out the door, "Let us plan the demise of that pesky mouse I saw in the pantry last night."

*******

Reed swung himself from his horse before it came to a halt outside the barn.  Tossing the reins to a wiry stable boy, he swept his hat from his head and knocked it against his thigh.  A tiny cloud of dust erupted and swirled in his wake.

The ride had done little to alleviate his ill humor.  The confrontation with Elise kept replaying in his mind, and each time he reviewed it he came away blaming himself for hurting her feelings.  After all, she was his guest, and she had suffered...something.  Exactly what, he did not know.

He grabbed the pump handle and jacked it ferociously.  The water spewed forth with unexpected pressure, hitting the side of the trough, splashing onto Reed's breeches in a most embarrassing area.  He leapt backward, out of the path of the oncoming water.

He studied the offending dark splotch with disgust.  His annoyance grew when he became aware of a carriage careening toward the house.  When he recognized it as Angeline's he hung his head in defeat.

"I am being punished for something.  That is it.  I am being punished."

He took a moment and sluiced water that was still cascading from the pump over his face and neck.  He hoped to make his way unseen to the back of the house so he could slip upstairs and change.

On his way, he caught a glimpse of movement on the upper veranda.  His steps slowed, then stopped while he watched with interest the scene being played out.

Elise stepped onto the upper veranda just as the coachman helped Angeline alight from her carriage.  Elise walked with her back straight and her head held high, a regal picture as she approached the railing.

Angeline flounced down from the carriage step and spun daintily around to stare upward at Elise.

The two women stood thus, both with challenging stances.  Reed was positive, as if they had been men, that a gauntlet had been flung down between them.  But he was not sure who had done the flinging.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

He could not recall ever having been so uncomfortable.  Angeline flitted possessively around the parlor.  She ordered around his servants and rearranged his knick-knacks.  Her forced giggles were becoming tedious in the extreme.

Elise strolled in shortly after his own arrival, her nature subdued and her behavior calm and unsmiling.  He could not imagine how she had made her way down the staircase.  She had not created her usual clatter, and he had never witnessed her descending the stairs in any other manner.  He could only suppose that he was responsible for this subdued character.  He wondered at the pang of regret he felt.

"I do hope you are planning to come to the ball, Miss Gerard.  It is being looked forward to as the social event of the season."  Angeline's smile was almost feline.  "But of course we would understand if you are not well enough to attend, considering your poor health.  You do look a little peaked."

"I will be there, Miss Simon.  I wouldn't want to miss such an occasion."

"But do you have the proper attire?  Perhaps I could help you pick something out.  I have excellent taste in such..."

Elise interrupted with an amused look.

"Thank you, no.  I have already taken care of it, thanks to Re...Mr. Blackwell.  Besides," Elise flicked a telling glance at Angeline's ruffles, "I prefer my own taste."

Reed was positive the two women would soon begin spitting and hissing at each other.  His mind raced across topics to introduce that would prove safe for conversation, but he was saved by the sound of a horse and rider approaching.

"Oh!"  Angeline lost interest in Elise.  "That must be my cousin.  I asked him to meet me here after he settled in at Mon Coeur.  I wanted him to meet you right away, sugar."

Angeline had jumped to Reed's side and now hung on his arm, smiling up at him adoringly.  He had forgotten her cousin was coming in from Baton Rouge for the ball.

Obiah entered the parlor and announced the newest visitor.

"Mistah Vancoeur."

Angeline pranced over to her cousin and pecked him on the cheek as the two men moved together to shake hands.

"Have we met before, sir?"  Reed questioned.  An eery sense of familiarity sparked at his memory.  He heard Elise gasp behind him.

"Not to my knowledge.  Have you spent much time in Baton Rouge?"

Reed answered in the negative, then turned to introduce Elise.  He stammered at the introduction when Elise stood, white-faced, and backed away.

"Jeffrey?" she whispered.

"Why, yes, Ma'am.  Jeffrey Vancoeur, at your service.  Have I already had the pleasure of making your acquaintance?"  He waited for Elise to respond and extend her fingers, but when she failed to do so he merely inclined his head.

Elise's left hand toyed with the neckline of her gown.  She continued to back away, but her hand came up to her temple, and she stopped and looked at Reed.

"I seem to have developed a terrible headache.  Please excuse me."

She didn't even wait for a comment.  She was halfway up the stairs before Reed could utter his first word.

He turned back to the others, bemused.

Angeline looked unconcerned and was obviously satisfied to have the two men all to herself.

Jeffrey's face was sardonic when he said, "I do hope it was not me.  She seemed stricken so suddenly."

Reed poured himself and Vancouer a brandy as Verda entered with the tea tray.

"I am sure it has nothing to do with you, Mr. Vancoeur.  Elise has suffered some illness that still affects her at times."

"That woman is rude in the extreme," Angeline said, clearly seeing an opportunity to berate Elise in the eyes of the men.  "Why you do not send her on her way I do not know."

She dropped that tactic at Reed's hard gaze, but picked up another.

"And the very idea of her attending our betrothal ball.  Why, she is a veritable Amazon.  And the gentlemen will have their own trouble attempting to dance with her.  I vow they shall be unable to get their arms around her, her waist is so big.  I would not be surprised if it were twenty-four inches.  And what do we know about this woman?  Why, she could be a soiled dove."

"Angeline," Reed said through gritted teeth, "Miss Gerard is my guest here.  You will refrain from speaking of her unless you can manage to be pleasant about it."

Angeline feigned a wounded look and retracted her claws.

"Very well, sugar.  I shall endeavor to find something pleasant about the woman."  She smiled, then glided to the tea tray and poured.

Reed looked to the other man for a little male sympathy, but Jeffrey's attention was elsewhere.  The man stood gazing at the second floor landing.  A frown lined his brow.

*******

Elise paced the floor of her bedroom.  She alternated between wringing her hands and kicking the idiotic hoopskirt out of her way.

Jeffrey!  The man downstairs is Jeffrey!  How in the world did he follow me here?  Was he so vigilant in watching me that he somehow saw me find the tea and drink it?  Did the police release him so quickly?

Elise had been so shocked at seeing her nemesis standing there, her only thought was to get away from him.

She forced herself to slow her pacing and calm down.  Being irrational would get her nowhere.

Carriage wheels crunched on the drive as it was brought around to the front of the house.  She sped across the landing to the upper veranda to try and catch another glimpse of Jeff.  She stood inside the door within the shadows and watched as the trio approached the carriage.  A surge of jealousy ripped through her as she watched Reed bend stiffly to accept Angeline's kiss on the cheek.

Jeffrey handed his "cousin" up into the carriage, exchanged a few comments with Reed, then swung up onto his horse.  Reed disappeared onto the veranda below her, and the carriage jerked forward.  Jeffrey walked his horse a few steps and stopped.  He stood in his saddle and looked directly toward Elise.  Then he bowed and tipped his hat.

She forced herself to stand there and not dart out of sight.  Their eyes met, unblinking.  Jeffrey's lips curved into a triumphant smile that exposed two rows of perfect, white teeth.

Elise watched as he kicked his horse into a canter.  He looked like Jeffrey, yet he didn't.  There was no deliberate stubble on his face, and his hair had been combed straight back with some sort of pomade.

She shook herself. 

By now her sense of reasoning had begun to return and she told herself that this man could not be Jeffrey.  The odds of him finding more tea and knowing what to do with it, and how to brew it, were just too slim.

The two men had the same name and looked enough alike to be twins.  This man must be one of Jeffrey's ancestors.  Their mannerisms were the same, as well as their cocky attitudes.  Elise shivered.  Whether this was Jeffrey or one of his ancestors, she intended to stay out of his way.

*******

Staying out of his way was easier said than done.  The next several days seemed to throw them together constantly.  Angeline was forever showing up on Reed's doorstep with Jeffrey in tow.  It occurred to Elise more than once that she'd seen few women in the twentieth century as forward as Angeline.

Even though she had come to the conclusion that this Jeffrey was not her ex-fiancé, she felt every bit as uncomfortable in his presence as she had in his descendant’s.  And she was convinced that these two were related.  Their looks and mannerisms were the same - eerily so.

She had tried to remove herself from the situation and stay as far away from Jeffrey as possible.  But today proved to be an occasion when she decided not to.

Reed had invited her to go riding with him and the Bobsy twins, as Elise had taken to calling them in her mind.  Her first impulse was to decline, but she knew she needed to spend more time with Reed.  Angeline had made a pest of herself, which left very little time for any one-on-one with Reed.

The dance lessons had resumed after Reed made them both uncomfortable with an apology for his outburst.  But it just wasn't the same now.  Elise felt truly awkward and had no need to fake her clumsiness.  She was even toying with the idea of showing improvement so Reed would feel safe in ending the lessons.

She buttoned the double-breasted riding jacket while she swayed to some internal music in front of the cheval glass.  She curtsied to her reflection, as if ending the dance, and reached for the silly little riding hat that matched her violet habit.  The hat pin had little to anchor it, since her hair fell loose around her shoulders.  It looked okay, she guessed, but the hat was designed to compliment the intricate, upswept coiffures of the l840's.  She had tried her hand at creating one of those styles, but the only thing she'd achieved was a pair of aching arms and a lot of singed hair.  And since Oak Vista was sadly lacking in females who needed a lady's maid, there were no servants there with any more ability than Elise.  Besides, her hair was the least of her worries right now.