A Whisper in Time (6 page)

Lessons are ending for the day. I shall write again soon
.

Yours most affectionately
,

Phoebe

I was relieved by what I’d read so far. Her first days had been acceptable, markedly superior to mine. My education had ended on the day I arrived at the Pratts’ house. I slept in a coffin-sized wedge of space under the eaves of the attic and served a family of eight as their sole house staff. By the end of my first month, I had stopped counting the number of times I’d been thrashed for displeasing Mr. Pratt.

August 3rd, 1796

I have received a letter from Mama with news of infinite sadness. My beloved sister was swept away in a swollen river. We have lost our Susanna in the same manner as my father. We shall not have the comfort of the grave
.

Mrs. Eton has permitted me an afternoon to grieve. There is a lovely willow at the back of their garden. I shall curl beneath it and remember
.

Tears blur my eyes and threaten to stain the paper. I shall write no more this day
.

My heart is broken. How can Susie be gone?

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

T
OGETHER
AND
I
N
S
YNC

There was a sharp rap on my bedroom door Saturday afternoon. I looked up to find Dad leaning against the threshold, computer case in one hand, suitcase in the other. Fatigue etched deep lines into his face. “How’s it going, son?”

“Great.” I snapped my laptop shut and gave him my full attention. “Hard trip?”

“Just glad the travel is behind me for a while.” He inclined his head. “Been thinking any more about colleges?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d like for you to consider early decision at Virginia Tech.”

There was plenty about his alma mater that interested me, not the least of which were the mountain biking possibilities. If we’d had this conversation in May, I would’ve had a different answer. But I had Susanna in the picture now and, as much as it surprised me that he’d forgotten that detail, I wasn’t about to remind him. “I don’t think I’ll be ready to make a binding decision by November first.”

Dad nodded. “Do you want to go back for another look?”

“I thought we might sign up for the Hungry Mother Cross-Country race. It’s not all that far from Blacksburg.” I’d never been to Hungry Mother State Park in Virginia, but I’d heard that their mountain-bike race was fun. It was close enough to Virginia Tech that some members of their cycling sports club might be there. Could be an opportunity to make some contacts.

Of course, it would also be fine with me for it to be just something I was doing with my dad. We hadn’t gone on a trip—just the two of us—in a while, and with high school graduation only a few months away, the chance to do stuff like this was about to disappear. An easy race would be a good thing for him since he didn’t have time to work up to anything remotely hard. And good for me too. With my focus on Susanna and school, racing had slipped in my priorities.

I’d already put it on the family calendar, but only as tentative. With my father, plans got canceled whenever a “high-revenue client” beckoned.

“Yeah. Let’s do it,” he said.

“Really?”

“I’ll block it out on my calendar at work.”

“Great.”

After he left, I glanced at the clock. With my lawn service slowing down for the year, I only had a couple of lawns left to do this weekend. I had time to get them out of the way and then squeeze in some variety to my training.

Once the yards were finished, I loaded my bike in the truck and drove to a park in Garner. After a good, hard ride, I drove home, showered, and changed.

Then I went to check on Susanna. It was time for dinner, and still she remained alone. I went down the back stairs and hesitated on the landing outside the apartment. Her door was shut. There were no sounds.

As much as she liked her privacy, I didn’t want to wait any longer to be with her. I gave a light tap on the door.

“Come in,” she said in a husky voice.

I opened the door. The room was dim. It took my eyes a moment to adjust. She sat in a corner of the couch with the laptop on the table beside her and the lamp off.

“Are you reading Phoebe’s journal?”

“Not at the moment. I was earlier.”

Something didn’t feel right. “What does Phoebe say?”

“She writes about her first weeks in the Eton household. Daily chores and such.” Susanna’s voice softened. “It wouldn’t charm anyone but me.”

There had to be more to this story. “Are you okay?”

“I am fine.”

“You don’t sound like it.”

She held out her hand.

I didn’t need another invitation. Walking more slowly than I wanted, I crossed the room and sat carefully beside her.

Her lips curved slightly. “You smell of soap and cologne.”

“I went on a training ride earlier.” I wanted to help her with whatever bothered her, but I couldn’t if she didn’t ask. “What can I do?”

“Kiss me.”

I hesitated. If she were like other girls, I would think
hell yeah
and launch a make-out session, but Susanna still seemed breakable. Where she came from, people might not even kiss until after they married. So, even though she’d been in my world for over a month, I’d been careful to keep the physical stuff controlled within the
proper boundaries
that she expected.

Maybe I was thinking through this too hard. One gentle kiss and then I’d worry about where to go next. I leaned closer and pressed my lips to hers. Damn, she tasted good. I wanted to haul her up against me and explore the lean strength of her body with my hands, but it was too soon. She wasn’t ready.

I really hated that phrase.

Her hand came to rest on my chest even as she drew back slowly. But instead of pulling away entirely, her head dropped to my shoulder.

“Susanna, I don’t know what to do for you.”

“Your instincts are serving you well.”

My instincts wanted more of me touching more of her. I eased her onto my lap and took over her spot in the corner.

We stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, listening to the hum of the A/C and the muffled calls of people passing on the greenway.

Linking her fingers through mine, she said, “Did you enjoy last night with your friends?”

I didn’t want to talk about that right now. Not when we were together and in sync. But she’d asked and it would be a bigger deal to refuse than to answer the minimum. “The game wasn’t very exciting, but we won by a lot, which makes it fun. Afterward, I went out with my friends to get ice cream.”

“What are their names?”

“Jesse, Benita, and Gabrielle.”

“Have you known them long?”

“I’ve known Jesse since our freshman year, but not well.” Jesse was into chemistry and calculus. I’d always liked the “people” sciences more, like psychology and anatomy. We hadn’t had many classes together. “Benita is Jesse’s girlfriend. I only met her a few days ago. And this is Gabrielle’s first semester at Neuse Academy.”

“Is Gabrielle special?”

I stiffened. “What kind of question is that?”

“Your voice was different for her than the other two.” She shifted until our gazes met.

“For one thing, Jesse and Benita are a couple. For another, Gabrielle is a celebrity.”

“What is a celebrity?”

“A famous person. She’s a movie star.”

“On the TV?”

I smiled. It was a technology we’d introduced early to Susanna. “Gabrielle’s films go to movie theaters first.”

“Is she talented?”

“Gabrielle is, but a movie star doesn’t have to be talented to be a celebrity.”

“That sounds like politicians. They can be evil or honorable, but we know about them just the same.”

“Exactly.”

Her head dropped back to my shoulder. I could feel the tension bunching up inside her.

“Mark, why is this topic difficult for us to discuss?”

I swallowed a curse word. If I ignored her question, would it go away?

Nah, probably not. I had to admit the truth, because she’d be able to tell if I didn’t. “I had a lot of fun, and you weren’t there.”

“Do you think I begrudge your evening away?”

“Of course not. It’s just…” I didn’t want to say anymore. Why did she keep asking? “I was out last night with two gorgeous girls, and neither of them was you.”

She looked up at me, wide-eyed. “Should I be jealous?”

“No.” The whole thing made me feel guilty, and I didn’t know why.

“Do you love me?”

The question gnawed at my gut. Why had she asked that? To reassure herself or to remind me? “Forever.”

“We would share a peculiar sort of love if it could not survive conversations with other young ladies.” Her lips pressed to my cheek, close to my ear. “Do as you want with your friends,” she whispered, “as long as you return to me.”

“God, Susanna. How can you be so perfect?” I sought her mouth with mine and kissed her thoroughly, proper boundaries be damned.

* * *

It took a while to finish the make-out session, although probably
make-out
was too strong a term. It had been mostly PG-rated. Not that I minded. Susanna’s struggle to let go was kind of hot, especially since I knew I’d be on the receiving end when she finally figured it out.

Eventually we both realized we needed food. “Burgers, fries, and chocolate shakes?” I suggested.

“Indeed.” Her eyes gleamed.

I’d be willing to bet that, if Susanna made a Top Ten List of Best Things About the Twenty-First Century, a cheeseburger meal deal might be number one.

After we got our fast food fix, I searched through Netflix until I found an old movie of Gabrielle’s. It was a period film, set in New England during World War II.

Susanna settled next to me with a bowl of popcorn and watched a few minutes. “This is your friend? She is much younger than I imagined.”

“She’s been in movies since she was a baby. This film was made at least six years ago.”

“Indeed.”

We didn’t talk for another ninety minutes. That was one of the things I’d learned about Susanna. She wanted to absorb things totally.

Not until the credits rolled did she speak. “I enjoyed that story.”

“Yeah.” I rose and pulled her up beside me. “Want to go out for a walk?”

She nodded and then snuggled into my arms. “Mark, she thinks I’m dead.”

I didn’t have to ask who she meant. “Why does Phoebe think that?”

“The villagers assumed that Rocky Creek swept me away.”

I wished Susanna had mentioned this earlier. No wonder she’d been down all evening.

I thought back to the day I’d helped Susanna escape. Images slipped through my brain like slides in a presentation. Susanna, weakened and bloody from abuse, thrashing through Whisper Falls into the safety of this century. Me, lying on a rain-slickened rock, trying to avoid being pummeled by her master. The men of Worthville, high above us on the bluff, watching silently, a gray blur of dogs at their feet.

Had my leap into the future looked like a death wish? From the villagers’ angle, maybe so. But not to Susanna’s master. He’d been close enough to see that the water wasn’t dangerously swift or deep. “Not everyone thinks we were swept away. Jethro Pratt tried to jump through the falls because he could hear us talking. He does
not
believe that you’re dead.”

C
HAPTER
N
INE

T
HE
R
IGHTEOUS
S
IDE

Mark and I strolled along the streets of his neighborhood, avoiding the other walkers with their dogs on treacherous leashes. It was a serene and lovely way to end the night.

“I don’t get it, Susanna. Why did Pratt let everyone believe we died?”

I was happy to talk about things of no importance, but I didn’t wish to speak of Jethro Pratt—the man who had made the past eight years of my life a misery beyond compare. “Perhaps he didn’t know,” I said, allowing my repugnance for this topic to color my voice.

“Don’t think that’s it.”

I lifted my chin. “Must we discuss this?”

“Yes.”

“Then discuss it alone. I have no comments to add.”

“I’m on your side, Susanna. I just think it’s weird—”

“Hush.” I yanked my hand free from his and hurried in the direction of the Lewis house. Mark kept up easily.

I would distract him. “Have you spoken with your sister of late?”

“No.” He caught my hand again. “It’s been a while since I called her.”

“She phoned your grandfather several times while I was at the lake house.”

He stopped altogether, jerking me to a halt. “How often is several?”

“Perhaps four.” His reaction was most puzzling. “Is this peculiar?”

“Maybe.” He stared up through the trees, as if seeking a message from the heavens.

I looked too and sighed with pleasure. Pines waved their black bristles against the blue-gray of the evening sky. I had to take pleasure where I could, for the stars didn’t appear with any brilliance in this century.

“Did she talk to Gran?”

“Not that I noticed.” I sorted through my memory. “If I answered the phone, she and I would talk briefly, and then she would ask to chat with Charlie.”

“Shit.”

I stared at Mark through narrowed eyes at his choice of words, but he hardly paid me notice. Glancing at his watch, he said, “Let’s get back. I need to track her down.” He took off at a tremendous pace.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Probably.” He made a low growl in his throat. “She has to be avoiding Gran, and that’s not good. Fletcher is being an ass.”

Such strong language for someone whose name I’d never heard. “Who is Fletcher?”

“The parasite who lives with my sister.”

Parasite? That was a harsh claim. “Is your sister married?”

“No.”

“Why have you not spoken of this to me before?”

“I don’t know.” We had reached the low fence that identified the perimeter of his yard. “Maybe because I can’t stand the guy and wish he would disappear.”

I understood such feelings, for I felt the same, but concerning Mr. Pratt.

When we entered the house, he lunged for the phone that lay by itself on the table top. Seconds later, he was talking—or rather, not talking. The conversation involved sharp sounds from his sister through the phone and much nodding of the head from him.