Chapter Seventeen

 

“So then I told Mary that if she spent more time taking a turn about the garden and less time popping sweets into her mouth she might actually be able to keep up with her kids.”

Lana’s eyes widened as she took another chip from the bowl. “You didn't. About time someone told her off.”

“I wouldn't normally say anything about the amount someone eats, but she complains so much. I tire of it and her.” I sighed and ate a chip with dip, being the pillar of virtue I clearly was.

“Has Anne arrived yet?”

“No. They think she might come in the next couple of days. She said a fortnight, but I suspect she’ll want to get to Wentworth faster. She still loves him.”

“But he loves you.” She brushed her foot against my leg.

“Maybe. How is motherhood?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Wonderful. The labor was awful, as I imagined it would be. But Celeste is beautiful and sweet. She sleeps like an angel and I swear she smiles at me. The doctor says no, says it can’t be a smile yet. Just gas. But I know my baby. It’s a smile.” Her eyes lit up.

“How does Danny love it?”

“He’s amazing. I don't know what I ever did to deserve him.” She gushed. “I wish you could meet him. You would get along so well.” She grabbed another chip and my brain did its usual what if.

I sat back, pausing in thought.

“Shall I go first or you?” She remarked, not realizing she had spurned an idea in my mind.

“Emma, you or me? Who’s first?”

I blinked. “You.” My story could wait and it would give me time to think.

We went upstairs and I hooked her in, setting it for ten hours. We were able to go that long now. It was our full night’s rest.

As Lana drifted off to sleep, I contemplated everything Marguerite had said and what we needed to do to fix up the house.

I’d gone over several contractors’ business sites, choosing a few to have a meeting with.

I also considered having someone who would be here while we were in the machine. As it was, we only spent a few hours together per day, as each person was in for ten hours. It was like a married couple working shift work opposite each other. But if we had a helper who could put us in and monitor us, we could go in at the same time, a night shift. And then we could live and go on during the day, like normal people. Not to mention, the added bonus of going into each other’s worlds.

The outside world, apart from our helper, wouldn't know how we spent each night. How we left this world for another, exploring and creating it together.

I combed through the résumés we’d received, unsure of exactly what kind of qualifications I was looking for. What exactly did this caretaker need?

One stood out.

Her face and eyes reminded me of Mrs. Humboldt at Wentworth’s. She had a soft look to her, but maybe also that little bit of extra sass we needed in our lives. She would ensure the garbage never got piled up again and that we didn't spend all day lying about.

I opened my email and sent her a reply.

The pay would be over the top and the compensation would be worth what she’d be doing, working night shifts, and a nondisclosure order was a lot to ask of anyone. Being a retired nurse in search of a job, she was perfect. She could administer the needles. She could see to us both nutritionally. And most importantly, she could understand the equipment.

It was a lot of trust to place in another person, but if Lana and I were ever going to be able to enter each other’s worlds, we would need to be under at the same time.

The technology was there already. I’d used it years ago when sending family members and loved ones into the minds of coma patients and such.

It was going to work. Quite easily if we had a caretaker.

But first we had to fix up the old house.

We couldn't ever have a caretaker come to us in the house as it was.

No, we would fix the house up first and then get the caretaker to watch us sleep each night.

And if Marshall or Marguerite or Stanley or our parents ever showed up, we would be ready for them. We would be ready to defend ourselves. Not only would we be awake and revived during the day, but also the house would be tidy. Marguerite’s stories of garbage and ruin would be seen as lies. Thinking her name nearly made me ache for my friend. Not just to have her friendship back but also for her understanding. I wished she could have gone into the machine so she would get it. But she was never a reader, hated fiction actually.

And now she had said we were over. I had to let that be the case.

We had the house in a not bad spot right now. Three days of cleaning teams had come in and junked out the house. We told them bad tenants were to blame. To which they’d replied that of course they’d heard of the witches who lived here.

Witches.

It was 2027 and witches were still a thing in Rhode Island.

I had to laugh at that.

Ten hours later when Lana woke, I had a plan. It was a smart one.

Lana sighed. “What a great day. We took a picnic and ate by the river. When Celeste fell asleep we made love by the water.”

“Sounds divine.” I lay in my bed, hooking myself up as she unhooked.

“Good luck with Anne,” she muttered as she sent me off into oblivion.

I dropped into the world at the manor. I was on the stairs, going up to ready for dinner.

Louisa and Henrietta were giggling in their room down the hall from mine. I paused before walking past, hoping they wouldn't see me. I had little tolerance for their silliness.

“Did you see Charles fall asleep in his soup last night?” Henrietta asked, laughing.

“I did.” Louisa giggled. I slipped past the parted doorway, hoping they wouldn't see me.

“Jane!” The door opened with both girls beaming out at me.

“Ladies.” I curtseyed as they did.

“Will you go on the hunt with us tomorrow? Mary refuses and Charles says we can’t go unless you or Mary accompany us.” They blinked their eyes at me sweetly.

“Of course. If you want me to go, I am at your service.”

“Thank you!” They leapt at me, hugging tightly. “You’re so much like Anne,” Henrietta whispered.

“And so not like Mary.” Louisa rolled her eyes.

“Wherever would we be if I were?” I winked and hurried to my room.

As I changed clothes and had a sponge bath, I contemplated the idea of Lana here. She would be stunning in the gowns and jewels of the time. The baby would be adorable in the little dresses and boots and bonnets. And Danny would be a gentleman. He would be Daniel of course and she would be Lady Lana.

Then I glanced about the house and considered my renovation. Would I want our house to be like this one, or would I prefer a modern home?

I wasn't sure.

I supposed for resale’s sake, something I would eventually have to consider, modern would make back the money I was going to spend.

The entirety of the renovation was just as Stanley believed it to be, worth millions of dollars. Millions I had stashed away, money I had never touched. I never needed. My life cost almost nothing, for I lived in here.

When I finished dressing again, I dusted some powder on my nose and hurried downstairs.

I walked through the dimly lit halls, listening for everyone else. A crack of a ball led me to the billiards room doorway. I paused when I heard the men speaking.

“Why I never fall in love with a simple girl, one who would be honored to be a navy man’s wife, is beyond me.” It was Wentworth speaking. He sounded upset. “The daughter of a viscount will never be permitted to marry a sailor.”

“You’re hardly a simple sailor now, Frederick. This place isn’t exactly the inn in Lyme. It’s an extensive property, a park even. And your parents bought your commission in the navy. Even removing the Spanish gold prize money, your family isn’t exactly destitute.” It was Benwick speaking.

“I don't understand why you have invited Miss Elliot back here, no offense meant, Charles,” Harville spoke softly.

“None taken,” Charles added.

“I invited her because her family is here and she’s lost a friend. As much as I had a broken heart from her once, I am not so cold as to deny her comfort during this hard time. I wouldn't be cruel to her. I don't think I could be,” Wentworth defended himself.

“It might be awkward, what with you pursuing the cousin,” Harville pointed out. I agreed with him.

“Anne and I had feelings for each other a long time ago. I was a different man then. I was a boy, not even a man. Nothing will be uncomfortable. She is a respectable lady. Charles was nearly engaged to her once and there’s not a moment of discomfort between them.”

“Absolutely not,” Charles agreed again. “And I will never admit to the fact I find her ten times more tolerable than my own wife.”

They all laughed and played on.

I cringed, turning around and heading to the library to peruse the books.

I sat in the corner, pretending to read but really I was drawing the office I would need in the upstairs for us to do our work comfortably, when Wentworth entered the library. He cleared his throat to make himself known. “I believe dinner will be ready shortly.” He spoke with the slightest of grins.

I glanced up from my book, narrowing my gaze but saying nothing.

“You don't appear to be anywhere near as excited to see me as I imagined you might be.”

“Possibly it’s because I too have come to the realization that my parents are important people, so I will likely abandon my feelings sometime soon and break your heart.” I didn't even try to hold back.

He laughed, entering the library and closing the large door. “Using the secret passageways to spy on me?”

“Of course.” I lowered the book and drawings.

“I do not doubt you or your affections, only your ability to be free with them.” He pleaded with his gaze and words for forgiveness.

“No. That's a lie.” I stood, putting down the book completely. “You doubt me because you had your heart broken. That would be the same as me doubting your safety in a house because mine burned down with my husband in it. You can’t blame every female for the actions of one, just like I can’t abandon living indoors because fires happen.”

He parted his lips, visibly offended and then snapped them shut. He took a noisy breath and stepped closer. “I’ve offended you, and while the words were not meant for you to hear, you did. I cannot change the fears I have, only hope that you will forgive me for them and whatever strain they have caused.”

“Maybe.” I narrowed my gaze again.

He stepped closer, not testing my anger but maybe our restraint.

I took a step back, hoping he would give chase.

He did.

He came as close as he was the first time we kissed, but lifted my hands with his, kissing the backs of them delicately. “Forgive me,” he whispered to my hand.

“Perhaps.” A smile danced upon my lips as I thought about his other words. “You said you loved me.”

“I did? Are you certain? It’s hard to hear through the brick walls.”

“I heard you. Verbatim, you said, ‘Why I never fall in love with a simple girl . . . ?’”

“Hmmmm.” He furrowed his brow. “That is not the way I intended to tell you I loved you. I imagined something more elaborate, perhaps a stroll in the gardens and a stolen moment amongst the hedges. Or a hilltop at sunset.”

I bit my lip, wanting things I hadn’t wanted in so long I wasn't sure they still worked.

“I do.” He spoke one thing but his eyes wrestled with another. Perhaps the propriety missing from the moment. Neither of us was showing any. “I do love you. The moment I met you, I couldn’t help but want to be near you. And now if I could wish one thing, it would be for us to never be apart. And though this is the wrong way to ask, as your father has not been considered in any way, marry me. Put me out of this agony I am stuck in. My hands and lips burn to touch you—be mine.”

I exhaled, not just air but the subtlest moan as well.

The moment couldn't have been done better.

A fireside library proposal was one of my dreams. Forget sunset and hedges, this was gold.

I took two breaths before I could answer, savoring the seconds spent in this blissful moment, and of course we were interrupted on my second breath.