Echoes of Tomorrow (36 page)

A warm breeze ruffled his hair and carried the delicious smells from the picnic basket.

The view of Elise's profile was occasionally enhanced when a breeze from the river billowed her hair off her shoulders and away from her face.  He could tell by the way she held herself that she knew he was watching her.

It was as if they had agreed not to talk about the events of the last twenty-four hours.  His body still tingled with heat from the intensity of last night.  But the confrontation with Angeline had left him drained.  He needed this time to remove those thoughts so that when he was alone again he could approach the dilemma with a clear head.  It was hard to remove those thoughts though, when he couldn't take his eyes off Elise.

She smiled when she reached into the hamper and pulled out a large covered platter.  The mouth-watering smells intensified.  This didn't smell like any fried chicken he'd ever had.  He sat up and eyed the picnic basket with more interest.

She whisked the cover from the platter with a flourish and used it to fan the spicy fragrance toward him.  His salivary glands came alive, but he couldn't for the life of him identify the questionable mass before him.

Elise tried not to look too anxious.  She'd had to substitute several ingredients and make do with others.  She wasn't sure if this was close enough to do the trick.

"It smells wonderful, Elise, but what in the world is it?  Tessa's never fixed anything like this before."  Reed stared suspiciously at the main course.

"It's call pizza.  I, uh, I kept getting this craving, so I finally asked Tessa to fix it.  It must be something I used to eat.  I don't know any other reason why I would know what it is."  She tried to act happy.  "Who knows?  What with the shower, and now the pizza, maybe my memory's returning."

He made no comment but continued to stare at the pizza.  She rummaged around in the hamper and came up with a brown and white jug and a bowl covered with a checkered napkin.

Reed lifted a corner of the napkin and peeked in, then flicked it off and tossed it behind him.  He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Another craving?"

"They're called potato chips.  All they are are thinly sliced potatoes that have been deep-fried.  Here, try one."

These had been easier to convince Tessa to fix than the pizza.  At least she hadn't grumbled as much.  With each ingredient and step Elise had described in the making of the pizza, Tessa had mumbled or cried out "Oh, Lawdy!"  She'd had to settle for goat cheese and plantation-made sausage, not to mention the lack or substitution of spices.  And since Elise had never been the type to know her way around a kitchen, she hadn't even been sure of exactly what spices she did need.

She slid a wedge of pizza onto each of their plates and handed one to Reed.  He looked around, then rummaged through the wicker hamper.

"What are you looking for?"

"Tessa has forgotten to pack the silverware.  That's not like her."

Elise's adrenaline began to surge.

"Oh!  You don't use silverware.  You eat it like this."  She picked up the wedge.  "Now, it's very important that you eat the pointed end first.  It just doesn't taste the same if you don't."

She watched for his reaction, but all he did was raise one eyebrow and say, "Of course."

He bit into the pizza.  His face lit with pleasant surprise, but he didn't show any sign of recognition.  She took a bite herself, and her heart sank at the taste.  It was very good, but it didn't taste like pizza.

Well, on to Plan B.

Reed uncorked the jug and poured the amber liquid into the two crystal goblets.  He handed one to Elise and raised his glass in salute.

"Here's to a most extraordinary meal with a most extraordinary woman." 

A melodic
ching
sounded when their glasses touched.  Reed watched her over the rim of the crystal while he sipped his drink. 

Elise almost faltered at his toast.  Visions of their wedding night assailed her.  She glanced into Reed's eyes and saw them widen in surprise but forced herself to put the glass to her lips and swallow.

Make it good, she thought.

She jumped up, coughing and sputtering, then shivered with a force that jolted her entire body.  Reed leaped to his feet and  hovered protectively.

"What in the world is this?"  She held out the goblet and turned it to stare at the liquid.  "For God's sake, Reed, the stuff came out my nose!"

She watched him again for any sign of recognition, but he shook his head in surprise.

"This is whiskey, Elise.  Why in the world would Tessa pack whiskey on a picnic lunch?"

"Actually, I packed it.  But I thought it was cider.  I must have picked up the wrong jug." 
Yeah, sure.

"I thought it was cider, too, when I poured it.  I didn't realize what it was in time to warn you."

"Well," Elise shook the folds of her skirts and re-fluffed the puffy sleeves that hung from her shoulders, "no harm done.  It seems I've just survived my first taste of whiskey."

They settled back onto the cloth and polished off the rest of the meal while they chatted.  She avoided drinking any more whiskey but needed one more sip to wash down the last bite of pizza.

A glistening drop of amber clung to the rim of her glass.  When she saw it she couldn't resist another attempt to jar his memory.

She watched the droplet hover on the edge, then start to slowly roll down the curved crystal.  She allowed it to carve a lazy, moist path down the bowl of the goblet and halfway down the stem before she stopped its progress with a slender, tanned finger.  She retraced the path of the droplet in an equally lazy manner.  Her finger glided up the stem and caressed the moist bowl of the crystal.  When her fingertip reached the top, she circled the rim and raised sultry eyes to Reed.

Without looking away, without blinking, she held his gaze and slowly - ever so slowly - parted her lips and touched the whiskey-laced finger to her tongue.  Reed's eyes had taken on a glazed cast.  He swallowed hard, almost gulping, when she closed her lips before leisurely withdrawing her finger.

She had definitely made an impression on him.  One sweeping full-length glance confirmed that.  But she could tell from his look that not one memory had been sparked from this whole fiasco.

With more dread than she expected to feel, she launched into Plan C.

"Reed," she said with a soft, coaxing voice as she leaned back into the grass and stared through the lacy green canopy above.

"Hmmm?"  His voice was a velvety, fuzzy hum.  He should be very accommodating.  She tried to speak in a soft, understanding tone.

"When did Angeline become pregnant?"

Even to her own ears, the question sounded like a discordant note in the midst of a symphony.  The only answering sound was the roar of blood pulsing in her ears.  She turned her head, then rolled to her side to look him in the eye.

His lips were a thin, hard line, and he refused to meet her gaze.

"What's done is done, Elise.  Talking about it won't change things."

"But Reed, sometimes talking about it can help clear the air.  Sometimes it
can
make a difference." 

He closed his eyes.  A look of pain caused little crinkles to radiate from the corners.  He shook his head in denial.

"I'm not proud of getting Angeline with child.  It's not something I want to lay before me and dissect."

"But don't you find it strange that in the future..." she caught herself just in time.  She took a few deep breaths to calm herself.  "I mean, in the past you have never...for Pete's sake, Reed, you're not the type of man to scr...have sex with a woman out of wedlock."  She was going to ruin everything.  It seemed her mouth had taken on a life of its own.

Reed's lips were a white line in his now-tormented face.  When he spoke, his voice sounded more defeated than ever.

"How do you describe what occurred last night?"  The muscles in his face were tense, and his look was determined.  "The subject is closed, Elise." 

It was best not to push him.  Somehow, she felt as if she'd just nailed the final nail in her coffin.  Last night he had made love to his wife, but he didn't know that.

So much for Plan C.

And so much for a relaxing afternoon.  It was clear that the picnic was over.  Elise made a few attempts to recapture a sense of lightheartedness, but a depressing pall seemed to wrap around them, like an encroaching fog.

It took only a minute to pack up their belongings and turn the carriage back to the house.  The short trip was made in uncomfortable silence.  They turned onto the avenue of oaks and were halfway through the verdant, green corridor when the wheels of another carriage crunched behind them.

Reed didn't even turn around to see who it was.  At the sound of wheels, she felt him stiffen, and for the second time ever, she heard him curse.

By the time Nicholas and Cyprian bounded from the phaeton, Reed appeared to have come to terms with having to entertain visitors.  He was believably cordial as he handed Marisa down and told her driver to go to the kitchen for a cool drink and something to eat.

Marisa greeted Elise with a hug.  Unexpected tears sprang to Elise's eyes at the welcome feeling of the feminine hug, and she held fast to her new friend long enough to blink away the tears.  Marisa studied Elise's face when she pulled away, but Elise flashed her a smile and then turned to hug the boys.

The group noisily made their way into the parlor, and even Lilianna roused herself to join them.  The dear lady had been making herself scarce by pleading a bad back and a need for rest.

"Elise, your ankle must be feeling better to allow you to move around as much as you have.  I am so glad it wasn't serious."  Marisa patted her hand with genuine warmth.

"It's much better, thanks.  I just have a trace of a limp."

"Can we see if your ankle is as big as it was yesterday, Miss Elise?"

"Nicholas," Marisa admonished, "one does not ask a lady to expose her ankle.  It does not matter how big it is.  It only matters that she is feeling better."

Nicholas pursed his lips and squirmed in embarrassment.  Elise caught his eye and smiled, then shrugged and crossed her eyes at him.  He giggled and nudged Cyprian to make sure he, too, was a witness. 

By the time Marisa and Lilianna turned to look, her face was the picture of sophistication, which only encouraged more boyish giggles.  Reed, however, had watched the little scene, and now he wore a very thoughtful smile.

The impromptu party turned festive as tea was served and pungent spice cakes, still warm from the oven, were passed around.  It was just too stifling to bear the thought of drinking hot tea, so Elise asked Verda to please bring glasses with a little ice in them.

Her request was met with inquisitive stares.  She really didn't give it much thought.  She just wanted to feel the cold liquid trace a path to her stomach on such a suffocating day.

When the glasses of ice chips arrived and she poured her lukewarm tea into one, Nicholas was on his feet again.  He bounced questions off her like a racquetball against a wall.

"Miss Elise, don't you want your tea?  Why did you pour it out into the ice?  Don't you want your cake either?  Can I have it if you don't want it?"

An indulgent grin curved her lips while she sprinkled in a couple spoonfuls of sugar and stirred the iced tea.  Nicholas was still firing questions at her, his eyes coveting her cake, when she handed the glass to him.

"Taste."

At least that stopped the questions.  But he was now looking at her as if she'd just handed him a glass of raw sewage and told him to drink it.

"Go ahead.  Taste it.  And, yes, I want my cake."  She hid her smile at his horrified, then crestfallen face.

Nicholas shot an uneasy glance at Cyprian, who sat quietly apart from the others.  Elise noticed the small, dark face  looked relieved at not being asked to taste this toxic substance.  Obviously Nick noticed it, too.  He sauntered over to his friend and held the glass under his nose.

"Thirsty, Cyp?"

A violent shaking of the woolly little head answered Nick's question.  Cyprian squirmed back in the seat a solid six inches farther away from the dreaded beverage.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Elise said.  She bounced from her seat and scooped the glass from Nick's pudgy fingers.  "It's just cold tea.  It's great."

She proved it by taking several sips - she had to remind herself it was unladylike to do otherwise.  She unintentionally exploded with a breathy "AHHHHH" afterward.

It really was funny.  Such skeptical looks from her audience would have one believing she was Nell, mixing up one of her Voodoo potions.  She offered a glass to everyone in the room, and out of politeness they took it.  Reed, she noticed, was the only one who drank with gusto.  That fact buoyed her spirits somewhat; he had loved iced tea in the future.

But he was beginning to get that look men get when they want to escape.  Any minute now he would remember a pressing problem and excuse himself to deal with it.

She was going to have to speed up Plan D.