Echoes of Tomorrow (21 page)

The crunch of carriage wheels alerted the household that yet another visitor had arrived.  Reed was dismally aware of the probable identity of that person.  Knuckling his eyes and shaking his head in denial, he rose from behind the desk and made his reluctant journey to the door.  No sense in putting this off.

A veritable cloud of ruffles floated on the breeze in the open door as Angeline sashayed into the foyer.  A fleeting thought struck Reed that he much preferred his shirt as feminine attire over this abundance of frippery.

"Reed, sugar, aren't you ready to go visiting?"  The pouty look of reproach on Angeline's face had the stamp of being well rehearsed.

Reed had forgotten.  The morning's bizarre events had wiped the scheduled activities completely from his mind.  He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand, and after a mental note to never repeat that painful gesture, he wondered where on earth he had ever picked up such a thing.

"I am sorry, my dear.  I will be ready in a moment.  Business, you know."

He almost - but not quite - cringed at the sound of several elephants galloping down his staircase.  For some reason he couldn't quite pinpoint, he wasn't surprised when he turned and found only one small woman creating all the ruckus.  Strangely enough, he'd known it was her before ever looking.

"Is this the business you spoke of?"  Angeline's voice dripped with such ice, he half expected to see her breath plume in a mist when she spoke.  He sent up a prayer of thanks that Elise no longer wore his shirt.

"Angeline, may I present Miss Elise Gerard.  Miss Gerard, Angeline Simon."

Elise marched up to Angeline and stuck out her hand, exactly as she had done earlier to him. 

Reed groaned.

"Miss Simon, how do you do?"

Angeline turned her frosty stare of disbelief to Elise's out-stretched hand.

"I am fine, thank you."  She ignored Elise's gesture and gave her an almost imperceptible nod of her head.  Elise withdrew her hand and knocked some imaginary lint from her skirts.

Silence reigned as the trio stood; one bristling, one itching to remove himself, and one seeming to be happily unaware of the tension vibrating the air.

Reed interrupted the silence by clearing his throat.

"It seems Miss Gerard has met with some sort of accident or illness.  She...appeared at Oak Vista this morning, knowing only her name."

"And yours."  Elise volunteered this useful piece of information in a much too cheerful fashion.  When two sets of eyes turned to her, she immediately lowered her eyebrows into a look of studied confusion.

"She knew your name?  Are you and Miss Gerard acquainted?"

"Not to my knowledge, my dear.  I don't recall us ever having met, but Miss Gerard, indeed, knew my name."

"There you guys go again.  You know, I'm not deaf, or mute, for that matter.  If you'd like to include me in this conversation about myself, I'd be more than happy to participate."

Angeline's face again took on that look of horror.  Every time Elise opened her mouth, Angeline reacted in that same manner.

"Miss Gerard, are you someone's servant?"  The petite blond's eyes scanned the length of Elise's slim, soberly garbed figure.

"I'm sure she is not," Reed jumped in and cut off Elise's answer.  "When she arrived, her clothing was somewhat... somewhat..."

"Inappropriate?" Angeline offered.

"Oh, no.  Not precisely.  Perhaps ill-advised for this climate is a better way of stating it.  However, Nell located a frock that would do until we can..."

"We?" she interrupted again, her toe tapping a violent tattoo on the floor.

"Yes, confound it.  I do feel somewhat responsible for her.  Until we find out who she is and return her..."

Elise's gaze bounced back and forth, as if following a ball being tossed between Reed and Angeline.  After several passes, she shrugged, rolled her eyes, and turned on her heel to walk the length of the hallway and out the rear doors.

Reed noticed Elise's departure, but he hesitated to end his conversation with Angeline until he had it resolved.  He wanted her to know in no uncertain terms that he was master of his life, and she was not.

"Reed Blackwell, you absolutely cannot have that woman stay here.  Why, it isn't done.  You are still a single man, and heaven knows what she is."

Reed felt an unaccountable anger rise at this veiled slur against his houseguest, uninvited though she may be.

"She will stay here, Angeline.  I will hire someone from town, if I must, to stay here as chaperone.  I feel it is imperative she remain if her family is to find her.  This subject is no longer open for debate."

It was no easier to explain his reaction to himself than to the irate blond who drummed the toe of her tiny, leather boot against the floor.

When Reed's expression made it clear he would brook no argument, Angeline released her outrage with a huff and switched on a sugary smile.

"I suppose you know best, darlin'.  Just please do find the poor creature's family and return her to them as quickly as possible.  Promise me?"

Reed hadn't heard her request past the first sentence.  For some strange, inexplicable reason, when Angeline had called him "darlin'," he'd been struck with an overwhelming urge to seek out Elise. 

What kind of spell does this woman have over me?  I have not had a rational thought since the moment she vaulted into my arms.

He interrupted Angeline's interminable speech, which at the moment  droned on about her reputation and what people would think.

"Angeline, you will have to excuse me, but I must beg off of our little excursion today.  I think it wise to send a few messengers out to make discreet inquiries about Miss Gerard.  Someone must be very worried."

He didn't notice his betrothed's mouth drop open as he held her elbow and escorted her out the door and down the steps of the veranda.  He waved away the coachman and nearly threw her into the carriage himself.  She plopped onto the seat with a thud, golden ringlets dancing wildly around her shoulders.

"Reed!"

"Oh, terribly sorry, Angeline.  Very clumsy of me."  Reed tried to restore his manners and fought down an urge to slap the carriage horse on the rump and send it barreling back down the road.

"I will try to make this up to you, my dear.  Perhaps you will allow me to call on you tomorrow."

"Why, certainly, darlin'."

As soon as she spoke that last word, Reed bowed stiffly and turned on his heel, the need to see Elise overpowering.  He cut across any further speech on her part by mumbling "Good day" and trotting back up the veranda steps.  He didn't notice Angeline craning her neck, or her mouth forming a silent, disgusted "Oh" as he closed the huge mahogany door.

*******

Elise wandered the paths of his garden, wrapped in total enjoyment.  She had often tried to picture her home as it would have been in its glory.  Even her most elaborate daydreams had failed to concoct the beauty of the house and grounds.  The garden sprawled out in a natural setting, with trees, shrubs and flowers all interspersed to give one the feel of walking through a beautiful forest.  Meandering trails wound through the foliage, and Elise wasn't quite sure where she would come out.  What a pity the garden didn't still exist in her time.

So lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear Reed approaching until he was upon her.  When she glanced up, she saw the same look of anticipation he'd worn most of his waking hours in 1994.  Her heart did a somersault, and it was all she could do not to run to him and drag him down to the soft, feathery grass with her.  Instead, she just folded her arms and smiled up at him.

"Hi," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

A question flickered in Reed's eyes before he spoke.

"Miss Gerard, I must apologize for my rudeness earlier, and that of my guest.  Angeline is a rather intolerant woman, and somewhat possessive.  I fear she misconstrued your presence here.  However, that does not excuse our excluding you from a conversation concerning yourself.  Please forgive us."

"No problem."  Elise waved away any further apologies.  "I've been guilty of the same crime on occasion."  She wanted to say, "Besides, I have your full attention now," but she smothered that comment.

Reed took a deep breath and searched her eyes.  That same questioning look was back.

"Miss Gerard..."

"Elise."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Call me Elise.  Please."

"Er, very well, Elise..."  He seemed to have lost his train of thought.  She was enjoying his look of discomfiture.

He stared at her and she immersed herself in his liquid pools of blue.   Her hand started to reach up and trace the line of his jaw, but she caught herself just in time.  “You were saying?”

"Uhmmm.  Oh yes.  Miss Ge...Elise, I feel certain you are not from this area."

"You mentioned that before.  Why do you feel that way?"  She hoped her inquisitive look was convincing.

"Your speech is not at all familiar," he stated uncomfortably, "and you have a somewhat, shall we say, carefree manner about you.  That is not to imply, of course, that there is any fault to be found with being carefree," he hastened to clarify.

Elise smiled to herself.  She'd forgotten how much Reed had loosened up while he'd been with her.  It was going to be fun, loosening him up all over again.

"You know, I agree with you, about not being from here.  I don't know why, but I'm sure I traveled a long way to get here."

"If that is the case, then surely you must have relatives looking for you.  A lady such as yourself would not travel such a distance alone."

"Ummmm, I guess that's possible.  For some reason, though, I have a feeling that any relatives I might have here are very distant, and I probably wouldn't know them."  Elise stayed as close to the truth as she could.  There was a fine line between lying and equivocating.  She hated the thought of deceiving Reed, the one man she respected above all others for his morals and personal convictions.  But in this case, it couldn't be helped.

Reed seemed to have nothing to add to that comment, and as long, silent seconds ticked by he began to act like a confirmed bachelor who had just had a baby plunked into his arms.  He stood there, not knowing what to do with the unexpected person, but trying his best not to fumble the situation.  Finally, he seemed to have an idea.

"Shall I show you around the grounds?  Perhaps, since you knew my name and made your way here, something will jog your memory."

Reed walked beside Elise, strolling at her leisure.  She paused every now and then to admire or sniff a blossom, creating a charming picture.

He was struck by how comfortable he felt with this strange, vibrant woman.  Comfortable and excited.  It was almost as if he'd known her for years, yet the heated attraction he felt for her had intensified rather than cooled.  He had never, ever experienced any of these reactions toward another woman.  The fact that he now felt them break over him in waves disconcerted him no end.  However, since these reactions seemed to be as uncontrollable as certain other reactions he could name, he decided to relax and savor them, without qualifying them in his mind.

The normally mundane trip through the profusion of trees and flowers proved to be most enjoyable.  Elise's interest in the garden seemed to be more than passing.  Her questions about the various plants were intelligent; some even surprised him with the fact that he failed to know the answer.  The best he could do was refer her questions to Digger, the plantation gardener.

Circling back to the house, Reed caught a glimpse of one of his servants, the white, woolly head bobbing along behind a tall hedge.

"We are over here, Obiah," Reed called out when he realized his butler cum valet was searching for them.

They worked their way in the direction of the fuzzy beacon, winding through the paths that had been created in this natural setting.

Obiah finally emerged from a break in the foliage.  His stately bearing betrayed no curiosity toward the young woman who had stormed through the house that morning in an indecent state of dishabille.

"Tessa done sent me to fetch you all, Mistah Reed.  She say the food be turned to ice if you ain't at the table soon."  Obiah's grievous look of impending doom was his own subtle way of poking fun at the cook and her dramatic declarations.  Tessa, short for Contessa, ruled her kitchen, the food, and the people who ate it with an iron fist.  She grumbled constantly over her lack of appreciation, but as soon as one word of compliment was spoken over a meal, she turned into a pussycat.

Reed grinned at the butler's mournful countenance.

"Convey to Tessa that Miss Gerard and I are on our way, Obiah," he said, his degree of solemnity equal to the black man's.  It was a little game they played.

Elise picked up the pace on their return trip to the house, and he realized, in all probability, she had not eaten for quite some time.  How could he have been so inhospitable?

As they passed the kitchen, delicious smells wafted through the open windows, and two servants emerged bearing covered trays.