The Christmas Eve Letter: A Time Travel Novel (30 page)

Evelyn’s eyes slid away and slowly closed, fluttering.  “I am so tired.  So very tired.  I must sleep now.”

“Yes, Evelyn,” Eve said.  “Sleep for as long as you like.”

Eve reached for the case-notes clipped to the wall above Evelyn’s bed and logged in all the pertinent information before she left the room. 

Walking toward the nurses’ desk, Eve saw him:  Detective Sergeant Gantly walking heavily toward her, his face set in stern concentration.  She paused near a gurney, waiting for him, her arms folded.  Two nurses passed her, glancing back over their shoulders, one with a girlish grin on her face.  They’d seen the two of them together before.

He closed the distance between them and stopped about three feet away.  They both remained silent, each sizing up the other.

“We have to leave,” he said.

“Leave?”

“Yes.  We have to leave the city.”

“What are you talking about?”

Detective Gantly took her by the arm and conducted her to an open door that led into an empty office.  They stepped inside and he left the door ajar so that only a sliver of light entered the room, falling on the floor like a narrow yellow plank. 

“Miss Kennedy, you must know what I’m talking about.”

And she did, although she had no idea where he was going with the conversation. 

“Why we?” she asked, with a raised eyebrow.  “
We
have to leave the city?  Why?”

“I told you about them.  I told you the Harringshaw family was powerful and dangerous.”

“And where have you been for the last three days?” Eve said, forcefully, trying not to assume the tone of an angry, ignored lover. 

He lowered his voice.  “I have a friend in San Francisco.  We can go there.”

“You keep saying we,” Eve said.  “Why would
we
go anywhere?”

He sighed a jet of air through his mouth.  “Because you cannot stay here, and neither can I.”

“Why?  What is Albert doing to you?”

“Albert Harringshaw will probably have my hide sometime after the costume ball.  He will be in Chicago for most of December and when he comes back, he will want you in his doll house and he will want me out of the way, permanently.  He knows about us.”

Eve dropped her arms to her side.  “Permanently?  That sounds very bad.  Are you just being melodramatic?”

“No, Miss Kennedy, I am not.  Even detectives can find themselves unwittingly caught between the wealthy and powerful, and the officials who want some of their wealth and power.  If someone gets in their way, they simply remove them.  So you see, Miss Kennedy, whether that sounds melodramatic or not, that is just the way it is.”

In the dark, cool room, Eve shivered.  “I see.  And you want me to go with you to San Francisco?”

He stared, intently, a beam of light illuminating his face.  “We could get to know each other, Miss Kennedy.  We could become properly acquainted.”

Eve shook her head again.  “Properly acquainted?  What does that mean, Mr. Detective?”

He didn’t blink.  He didn’t move.  “Miss Kennedy, it means that I am very attracted to you, as you are to me.  Don’t try to deny it.  And don’t play the silly female role.  It doesn’t suit you.  You’re much too smart for those games.”

Eve was silent.  He waited.

“I can’t leave New York yet,” Eve whispered.  “I haven’t finished what I came to do.”

Gantly’s voice took on an edge.  “And, pray tell, Miss Kennedy, where did you come from and what did you come here to do?”

“I can’t tell you yet.”

He turned in impatient frustration and rising anger.  He scratched his hard jaw and faced her.  “Why am I not surprised?  So you plan to move into Mr. Albert Harringshaw’s pleasure palace then?”

“No!  Of course not.”

“Then tell me now!  Who are you?”

“I can’t.  But I will tell you soon.  I promise.”

They stood, shifting their weight, searching for words.

Eve stepped close to him, only a foot away.  She reached out to touch his hand, and then stopped.  He inched closer to her.  Their eyes met, shiny in the door light, desire building.  Eve felt a sudden fever for him, an animal want and need so strong that she pulsed with it. 

Patrick was alive with longing, and fighting hard not to show it.  It was the first real intimate moment they’d had, and they held it, silent, breathing, throbbing.

“I don’t know how to say what you want to hear,” Gantly said. 

“Just say what you feel, Patrick.”

A nurse passed outside, her head down, reading a chart.  They ducked away from the light.

He stood over Eve, looking down.  She felt the heat of him.  She dared to look up at him.  They stood in silhouette, waiting, calculating.

“I want to touch you, Miss Kennedy.  I want very much to kiss you.  I want us to be together, as close as two people can be.”

And then he grabbed her shoulders and kissed her, the tip of his tongue plunging, tracing and exploring her lips and mouth, pulling her into his hard, wide chest.  Eve arched back, stunned by crazy pleasure.  She kissed him, long and warm, her body awakening from a long sleep.  They remained locked in a kiss for timeless minutes, and Gantly felt her lips sweeten and flower.

When they finally disengaged, he moved his hand to her cheek.  His touch was lightly sensual, and it made her a little drunk with pleasure.

“A lovely woman you are, Eve.  Lovely indeed.  I spend hours thinking about your loveliness and your stubbornness.”

Eve smiled at him, an intimate smile.  “I’ve missed you, Patrick.  I thought you’d forgotten me.”

“Never.  I’ve been busy working for us.”

She took in a breath, as his tongue traveled down to lick her neck.  They moved back to the light that was leaking in from the hallway, and they turned slowly, as if dancing.  Eve closed her eyes and made a little sound of pleasure as a new sensation engulfed her.  And then she gently broke from him, looking up.

She whispered.  “Where can we meet, away from everything?  You must know a place where we can be alone together for a while.”

He stared at her in serious delight.  “I have old ways, Eve.”

She waited for more while her pulse raced.  “Okay…What does that mean?”

“I want our love to be right.  To be true.  I want it to last and to have the right kind of beginning.”

Eve stared, first in puzzlement and frustration, and then in admiration.  She leaned her forehead against his chest.  “Okay, Mr. Detective.  Okay.”

“I want us to marry, Eve.”

Eve didn’t move, but her entire body was on fire for him.  “Marry?”

“You flame my thoughts—every thought, Miss Kennedy.  You ask me where I have been for the last three days.  I have spent them plotting our escape to San Francisco.  That is all I have thought about.  Perhaps I would not have asked you to marry me so suddenly, if things were not so dire and urgent.  But now, I must ask you.  It will be much easier for us to travel if we are husband and wife.  Will you come with me, Eve?”

Eve lifted her head, staring into his eyes.  “We’ve just touched, Patrick.  We’ve just kissed.  We don’t really know each other.”

Her lips were gently parted and moist, her left eyebrow slightly arched.  Patrick was struck by a spasm of sexual energy. 

Eve saw a sudden surprise in his eyes, then pleasure and finally an invitation. 

“We know all we need to know, Eve Kennedy.  We will touch, Eve, and I promise you we will certainly kiss… and we will love.  I will never stop loving you, whether you agree to marry me or not.”

CHAPTER 26

On the evening of December 4
^th
, Eve and Dr. Eckland arrived at The Harringshaw mansion for the much celebrated and publicized costume ball.  The mansion stood on the north side of 5
^th
Avenue, ornate and imposing, surrounded by wrought-iron gates and fences. 

When Eve stared out the carriage window to take it in, her mouth opened in surprise.  This was not the museum she’d seen and visited in the 21st century.  This was something out of another world.

The mansion was made of pale yellow brick, handsomely trimmed in chocolate colored stone, with turrets, gables, pyramids, peaks and towers that reached into the sky.  There were fireplace chimneys, wrought-iron balconies, and acres of slanted surfaces, shingled in slate, trimmed in aged green copper, with countless windows, both dormer and flush, round, square or rectangular.  It was a magnificent sight, and being one of the first personal residences to be completely lit with electricity—at a cost that was unimaginable to those who read about it in the newspapers—it seemed from another world. 

Eve gazed upon the mansion, overwhelmed by its opulent glory, its soft glow and its massive structure.  There was nothing to match it, even in the 21st century.  This was wealth only dreamed of in fairy tales or created by special effects in a Hollywood movie. 

Eve glanced at the red and brown brick houses down the street and wondered what those people thought of this mansion, living in its vast and magnificent shadow.

Fifth Avenue was congested with well-dressed curiosity-seekers, who were being held back by the police.  Eve darted glances up and down the street to see if she could see Patrick, but he was nowhere in sight.

A canopy had been constructed over the 5
^th
Avenue entrance to help shelter and protect guests from both the curious and the light snowy weather.  Dr. Eckland’s carriage joined a line of carriages that pulled up and dropped guests under the canopy, to be greeted by footmen in burgundy livery and powdered wigs. 

Eve and Dr. Eckland were helped from their carriage and Eve, dressed in her petticoat, gown, and long tailored winter coat, was assisted down a thick, red carpet.  She and Dr. Eckland were then escorted past the potted trees and statues, to the front entrance, and then into the grand, glittering and endless rooms of the mansion. 

Eve entered the Harringshaw’s gleaming spacious lobby, her body a knot of nerves, her awed eyes searching the space.  She took in the scent of roses, vanilla, cigar smoke and oak, the latter coming from the grand fireplace in the far right of the great hall, where a giant spruce Christmas tree stood towering and gleaming.  Eve saw sprigs of holly and shiny red berries wedged behind picture frames and clocks, twisted around the chains of chandeliers, arranged in vases, fastened to the tops of draperies and pinned into women’s hair.

They joined the receiving line and Eve linked her arm into Dr. Eckland’s.  He patted her hand reassuringly and smiled, as they waited to be announced. 

“You are the prettiest woman at the ball,” Dr. Eckland said, proudly.  “I have already received countless covetous glances.  You don’t know what that does to an old man.  Well, it makes him feel like a young buck again.”

“Thank you for bringing me, Dr. Eckland,” Eve said.  “And thank you again for the lovely dress.  It’s much more than I could have ever imagined.”

“Not at all, my dear.  It is not the dress we’d first conceived of, but a beauty nonetheless.  It has been a great pleasure, I assure you.”

Eve’s low-cut, sleeveless dress was made of orange brocade, shading from the deepest orange near her feet to lighter shades in the bodice.  The figures of flowers and leaves were outlined in gold and white, with iridescent beads.  Her underskirt, visible only on the sides, was light yellow, as was the satin train, which was richly embroidered in gold, and lined with a deep green.  To top it off, Eve’s powdered white wig was dressed high, with a wide orange ribbon on the side. 

Eve was well aware of the men’s wandering, wide eyes and the women’s curious and jealous stares as she stood there, aloof and proud, like a princess.  In any other circumstance, it would have been delightful fun.

Dr. Eckland wore a broad-rimmed feathered hat, a blue velvet jacket with golden buttons, a long, golden sash across his chest, black tights and blue velvet shoes, with curved-up toes. 

Eve took the opportunity to glance about at the astounding array of costumes, jewels and flowers.  She saw princes, monks, cavaliers, highlanders, queens, kings, dairy-maids, bull-fighters, knights and nobles.  And there were men dressed in red hunting-coats, with white satin vests, yellow satin knee-breeches and white satin stockings.  Their ladies wore red hunting-coats and white satin skirts, elegantly embroidered.

“Did you know, Miss Kennedy,” Dr. Eckland said, “that the owners of all the greenhouses and hothouses for 50 miles have been working overtime for weeks to supply flowers for this occasion?”

Great vases of flowers exploded out and tumbled over each other:  peonies, tulips, gladiolas, African daisies, hydrangeas, white lilies, yellow lilies, and tiger lilies, and most of all, roses, thousands of roses of every shade of white, pink, yellow, orange and red. 

Eve thought it looked like a costume drama from a Hollywood movie, except that it was real. 

And then they were announced.  “Dr. Morris Waldo Eckland and Miss Evelyn Kennedy,” the broad chested man with a basso voice bellowed out.

Dr. Eckland led Eve down a grand marble staircase into a white marble reception hall.  They strolled under a vaulted ceiling and glistening chandeliers illuminated by electric lights.  Eve saw lavish jewelry on throats, around necks, in hair-combs, in ears, and sewn onto capes and bodices and buttons.  Pearls, diamonds, emeralds and rubies were reflected by the light, adding a sheen and luster Eve had only ever imagined. 

They approached another wide, grand, marble staircase that led to upper rooms.  It was wide enough for eight people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder.  Ladies in silks and velvet glided up and down, past paintings by European and American masters, and sculptures from Greece, Italy and China. 

They entered a luxurious music room, filled with a golden harpsichord, two glossy grand pianos, a harp and 20 to 30 pink silk upholstered chairs.  Two large cabinets, carved from the finest wood and ivory that the world could offer, held violins and lutes.

In one lavish salon were silver platters filled with caviar, crudité, fruit and nuts and tarts topped with strawberries.  On another table were crystal wine glasses, champagne flutes and heavy golden goblets.  Livery dressed in blue velvet coats, silk pants, white gloves and powdered wigs poured champagne and the finest red wine, as guests drifted by.