Cora

When Cora turned back at the top of the stairs, Simon was still watching her from below with a worried look. It didn’t surprise her as much as it confirmed to her that he was invested in their relationship as much as she was. Today once again proved to her that she was out of time and place. She had a difficult decision to make, and she questioned whether making that one decision would cause the dam to break that held others away. What was she going to do about Simon?

Inside her room, and as soon as the door shut, Cora threw off her cape and tossed it toward the bed. Before she could remove the driving apron, the entire skirt of her dress fell to the floor.

Behind her she heard May gasp, then chuckle. “Well, there’s got to be a good story to go with whatever made that happen.”

Cora turned her back toward May but didn’t yet answer her unasked question. What could she say? “I can’t get this knot.” The sparkle in May’s eyes told Cora she was busy making up a tale of her own to go with it. May wasn’t typical of the Victorian period, having lived part of her life out of it. Her mother’s twentieth-century background brought a progressive element to May’s upbringing.

As the strings of the apron left Cora’s hips, she turned toward May. “I had to rip it off to swim into the lake and retrieve the horse while Simon rescued the driver of the wagon.”

“Wait. Rescue? What wagon? Start at the beginning.”

Cora recounted the driving lesson, the accident, the rescue, and CPR. “I didn’t think what might happen if I used it, but, well, it’s a hundred years early.” Cora sat heavily on the side of the bed and dropped her face to her hands. “Have I messed up the future, changed something enough to alter what should be?” Cora paused and exhaled loudly. “I don’t belong here.”

She felt the weight of the mattress shift as May’s arm curved around her shoulders. “No.” Cora looked up to see May shaking her head as she continued. “Aunt Nellie says ‘time is a fuzzball.’ My mother thought time was a line that ordered the world and constrained everyone and everything to a specific point.” May pulled Cora up.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes and into something dry.” May turned Cora’s back to her and began unlacing the bodice. “Time isn’t what you think it is. There isn’t one time—there are billions. We each have our own thread of time. Our threads start and stop, but they are all mixed up in the fuzzball, too. Your thread has touched this time, so you’re here. Everything that you do is part of your thread. That wagon driver has his own thread. Even though your threads touched, you didn’t change his thread. You can’t. It’s his.”

Cora hoped that was true. It was hard to imagine what May described, but May was living it, and so was Cora. And she had never felt more alive than she did here.

“Get behind the partition and step out of the rest of those sodden clothes.”

Cora pulled the wet fabric from her body and legs and threw them over the top. A rap on the bedroom door stopped their conversation.

May opened it, and the thin voice of a maid said, “His Grace asked that we deliver these. Can I help the miss?”

May replied, “No, thank you. We’re doing fine, but put the buckets on the floor by the dressing screen.” Cora heard several sets of footfalls. Then the door closed again, and May approached the screen. “Are you done?”

“Yes.” Cora peeked around the partition to see what had been delivered.

“Simon sent up some warm water and towels.” Cora noticed a suggestive quality about the smile May wore. “That’s very thoughtful, isn’t it?” May handed Cora a towel, which she wrapped around herself. “Let’s clean your hair first.”

Cora sat on a chair and leaned forward over an empty bucket while May poured some water over her head, then washed Cora’s hair. When she finished, May wrapped another towel around Cora’s head and pointed her back to the screen.

“You wash now, and I’ll … get rid of your clothes.”

Later, another rap on the door sounded, and Cora heard May say, “Thank you.”

“What is it?” Cora asked, still giving herself a sponge bath.

“His Grace asked that a letter be delivered.”

Cora looked around the screen.

“I’ll just set this right here for you to read later.” She placed the note on the table. “Seems important, doesn’t it?”

Cora nodded but couldn’t answer. Her heart and mind were overflowing with thoughts of how she felt about Simon. That was part of the problem. Not part—it was the whole thing. She dropped the towel from around her and stood on it as she sponged off her feet.

She knew she was way beyond curious about Simon. Her interest had started with that, but it had moved on to admiring his determination. Lately, she had added the qualities of loyalty, graciousness, and honesty to her growing list of all-the-things-I-like-about-him. And today she had added trusting. He had followed her lead and performed rescue breathing without questioning her. Warmth and caring sparkled in her stomach.

She didn’t think she’d fallen in love—yet. Nor had he, but left unchecked, these feelings would get there fast. Since she would be going back to her century on the next full moon when the mural was completed, Cora wouldn’t play with Simon’s feelings. She liked him too much.

When she was with him, he eclipsed everyone and everything else that was happening. When he wasn’t around, her thoughts strayed to him with great frequency. What could she do? She had to go back, but how could she leave him? Would he consider going with her? Would that be possible? Aunt Nellie was trying to figure that out. It seemed insane. For sure, he would think she was if she were to ask. In her time, he might be able to choose if he wanted to be able to hear. If this wasn’t some cruel trick of the universe, maybe it was an opportunity for Simon to change his life.

Although to the rest of society, he didn’t seem to be looking for a wife, even dodging several women’s embarrassing attempts, she was certain that his feelings for her had grown beyond friendship as well. Spending their lives together was beginning to make sense to her.

No. She would stop this now. She gave a determined nod to herself. A little hurt now would save heartbreak later. But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t be a little hurt now to leave him.

A new chemise and drawers flicked over the dressing screen. Cora dried off and tugged them on, then she stepped out from behind the screen to a chair where she could pull the stockings over her feet, tying them above her knees. Next, she pulled the corset down, but knew she’d need May’s help for this part. May crossed the room. Tossing a new dress across a chair, she stepped behind Cora to begin pulling the ties. With the corset in place, May gathered the dress on her arms and pulled it over Cora’s head.

“Now, back to our discussion,” she said as she began fastening the buttons. “You said you think you don’t belong here. Well, I don’t belong to this time, either. I was born in yours. I have a birth certificate and a driver’s license to prove it. That should rip a hole in the space-time continuum, don’t you think? How about this? I’ve ridden in a taxi, shopped at a mall, had baby shots, and drunk Coca-Cola. I’ve spent enough time there to earn a college degree.” May waved away Cora’s startled look. “All of that together must be enough to shatter the universe.” She paused. “Or perhaps just theories about the universe.”

May finished the buttons and brought the ties behind Cora’s back to make a bow. “Both centuries are part of my own thread. They are part of my mother’s and all of my siblings’, too.” She stood in front of Cora. “That other theory requires you to believe that time is one dimensional. Yet here you stand—so it’s not.”

May turned Cora to look in the mirror. “You’re dressed. I’ll send a maid to do your hair.” May’s gaze was intense toward Cora through the reflection in the glass, a rare look for her, crowding out her natural mirth, when she asked, “Do you belong here? I can’t answer that question. Only you can make the choice.”

May walked to the door but turned around just before she left. “How do you know where you belong until you’ve been there?” She stepped out, and the door shut.

Cora quickly opened the letter to read before the maid arrived.

My Dearest Cora,

I am in awe of your compassion and knowledge. Thank you for driving out with me today.

With sincere appreciation,

Simon

P.S. There are times, many times, when I feel that I’m not prepared to lead the estate. Father would take my older brothers out on estate business while I was left behind. I thought it was because I wasn’t old enough, that someday I would be, but my twelfth year came and went, and I wasn’t taken from the schoolroom to meet the tenants or visit the shearing sheds in the north. I was sent to school. The years passed, and I was passed over. I suppose I’ve continued to think of myself as unworthy and unable.

But you give me hope. Neither of us was prepared to save a man’s life today. If I just follow your example and live as true as I can, without retreating from difficulty, all will be well.

Cora folded the letter and tucked it into a drawer. It touched her heart to think that Simon believed that she made him a better person. She felt like she was better with him as well. Yes, this separation would hurt them both.

* * *

The next day, as the ladies were in the morning room, and the men had gone out riding, a carriage arrived, delivering four women. Cora recognized Simon’s mother and two sisters but not the fourth woman who traveled with them. Remembering Simon’s comment about “accosting an American,” Cora wanted to leave the room before the women entered but realized she’d have to scurry through the hallway and past the door where they’d enter to do so. I don’t scurry. Instead, she watched through the window as the processional approached the house.

“That’s His Grace’s family, right?” Cora asked Lucy Radnor, who shared the couch with her.

“Yes, they’re breaking their journey here and will continue to London in a couple of days.” Lucy clasped her hands in front of her. Cora wondered if something about their arrival made her nervous. “The dowager duchess is a school friend of Mrs. Hawley’s.”

“Who is that with them?” Cora had to admit, the woman looked like a goddess, tall and slender with more cleavage on display than she usually saw in the daytime here. Black, glossy curls and braids surrounded a classical face with full lips and large eyes. She had the kind of poise that was typical of televised Hollywood events.

“Her two daughters. The elder is Miss Tuttle, Georgia, and the younger is Miss Virginia Tuttle. The woman wearing green is Lady Atkins. Her name is Emaline. She’s the same age as Simon and Everett.” Lucy looked squarely into Cora’s eyes. “Everett believes she is highly infatuated with Simon’s title, and has the support of his sisters to become his duchess.”

Cora studied Lady Atkins. Yes, she was what Cora expected a woman with a high social ranking to look like.

May approached her friends. “What is she doing here?” she hissed.

“Simon’s family is stopping over. Since Emaline is their cousin, I suppose she came along.” Hearing Cora’s light gasp, Lucy added, “Their grandmothers were sisters—Emaline is their distant cousin.”

“Not distant enough at this moment,” May said, then leaned closer and dropped her voice. “That viper was engaged to Simon’s oldest brother when he died. Before the end of the following season, she married an ancient earl with a bad cough who died within weeks, leaving her with a lovely title, property of her own, and a generous settlement.”

“So, now she wants an upgrade,” Cora said to herself, but must have spoken aloud as May snorted, and Lucy looked at her with wonder. “She wants to raise her status in society.”

Lucy nodded. “Exactly.”

The butler escorted the arriving party to the morning room, and a series of curtsies began. Cora watched with fascination as lower-ranking women bobbed to those of higher rank. When the series was completed, their eyes turned to Cora, and May made the introduction.

Cora tipped her head to the side. “My pleasure to meet you.” She saw Simon’s sisters’ eyes narrow and his mother’s chin lift as she gave a sniff before averting her gaze.

“Hardly an appropriate greeting for a duchess,” Lady Atkins mumbled.

May’s mouth opened, but before she could speak, Cora spoke directly to Lady Atkins with a smile on her lips, and she hoped a lighthearted voice. “I’m American. We bow to no one.” Then she held eye contact with Simon’s mother and added, “But it is an immense pleasure just the same.”

Immediately, Mrs. Hawley stepped forward and gestured to the hallway. “You’ve had quite a journey. I’m so happy you’re here. Let’s get you settled.”

The group turned toward the door, but Lady Atkins twisted back and stared at Cora. Her eyes traveled down her dress, and she made no pretense that she was judging her harshly as she lifted her hand as if to cover a laugh.

Cora had had enough and flicked her fingers, saying, “Shoo. Shoo now.” Then she turned her back on the woman.

May burst out laughing while Lucy appeared shocked.

Cora commented, “Well, not a very promising start. I’d guess Lady Atkins and I won’t be friends. Well, really all of them.”

“Oh, you never know.” May shrugged her left shoulder. “Maybe they’ll admire your backbone, and it will work out fine.”

Cora tried to decide if May was sincere. Lucy spoke up. “Not likely that, is it?”

“Definitely not.” May threw her arms around the women’s shoulders and walked them back to the sofa. “There is some history you’ll need to know, Cora.” The women leaned together. “It’s not a coincidence they have arrived, and this won’t be the last we see of them. All three ladies have a scheme. Lady Atkins has her sights set on Simon, and I expect her to follow him from event to event, using her connections with his family to get close to him.”

Cora pondered that. In her current state, she didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad when both options were painful.

“Miss Virginia Tuttle has made no secret of wanting to marry Wetheridge,” May said.

“She can have him,” Cora offered.

Lucy twisted her hands in her lap, and Cora saw the same tension she had seen in her moments before. “And Lady Virginia Tuttle would marry Everett, should he offer. I think both their mothers might want that since they’re close friends.”

“Don’t worry, Lucy. You are firmly settled in Everett’s heart,” Cora said.

“I wish that was true, but I doubt—often.” She shook her head slightly as she continued, her voice a whisper. “He may love to spend time with me. He may even love to kiss me.” May laid her hand on top of Lucy’s and gave a little squeeze. “But he has made no offer. And another season has ended … ” Her voice trailed to nothing.

The three women sat together in silence. Cora wondered if she was at liberty to tell what she knew of Everett’s service to Simon as well as his plea that he desired to make Lucy his own.

No. It wasn’t her story to tell. The most she could do was have a frank conversation with Everett—and maybe Simon. Which she would tonight or at breakfast in the morning. Cora was often the only female who ate breakfast when the men did. She didn’t like to see Lucy feel like she was being dangled along.

May stood from the couch. “Let’s get our hats and go for a walk before they return. With any luck, we won’t have to see them until dinner.”

Cora saw the letter on her bed as she entered her room. It simply said, “Garden maze tonight.” She felt a touch of disappointment as the letter had none of their usual banter. No joke. No long P.S. with personal revelations. No signature or even a wax seal. She chided herself for being spoiled by his previous letters. He probably penned it in a hurry before he left to go riding that morning.

She tucked it into the bottom of her trunk, donned a hat, tying it below her chin, and hurried down the stairs to join Lucy and May. When was she supposed to meet him? Surely he’d give her some sign.

Cora, May, and Lucy extended their walk and returned to the Hawley estate in time to begin dressing for dinner. She didn’t see Simon or any of the men for that matter. When she came down for dinner, Simon was in the salon talking with his mother, sisters, and Lady Atkins, who was worse than a cat, rubbing herself against him accidentally on purpose whenever she laughed or turned to look somewhere.

She joined May and waited, glancing at Simon all too often.

When they were invited into the dining room, Lady Atkins began reaching for Simon’s arm, but he quickly extended it toward his mother.

She tried to push it away. “We needn’t be so rigid in the orders of precedence. You’re a young man and needn’t waste social opportunities on me. You may escort Emaline and become reacquainted.”

“You are charitable to consider my feelings, but it is not a waste for a mother to take her son’s arm. I rarely have the honor. I’d be pleased to escort you in.” Simon gave his mother a bow and placed her hand in the crook of his arm, then led her out the door. The rest of the guests paired off and followed behind.

The seating could not have been more to Cora’s liking. Well maybe, but she was satisfied. Simon sat at one end of the table to Mrs. Hawley’s right while Lady Atkins sat on Mr. Hawley’s left at the other end. Cora sat beside Everett with May directly across from her and Simon in plain view. The only unfortunate placement that Lucy was seated far from any of them across from Lady Atkins.

Cora spent much of the meal trying to decide why it mattered to her if Lady Atkins married Simon. She told herself that she didn’t want to see anyone used for their social position, but that seemed to be acceptable and even encouraged in this time. She also believed Simon deserved much more though she didn’t know Lady Atkins at all to be able to make a judgment like that.

Annoyance at herself built as she failed to clear her thoughts, contradicting herself as they bounced around.

Anyway, that was Simon’s call, not hers. Did she really think that when she left, she would have so altered his life that he wouldn’t find someone to share it with? No. He would find happiness. She had to believe that. Then why did the motivation for marriage matter? Her soul felt deflated, and her heart was limp. At least she wouldn’t have to be here to see it.

She sat in her chair, her back straight but her head bent as she stared without seeing her dessert, her spoon poised just off the table, the apricot ice molded into a rose melting out of shape. Cora was completely torn. If she met him in the maze, would she just be adding greater heartbreak when she left? If she didn’t meet him, she wouldn’t know what message he had for her. She wouldn’t be able to look into his face shadowed in the moonlight. She wouldn’t sleep at all tonight with wondering.

She realized her bone-deep sorrow and the little antagonism she felt toward Miss Atkins were because . . . She admitted she might love Simon . . . and she was leaving him.

Thankfully the women stood to leave the dining room. Much more of that apricot ice, and tears might have begun falling.

When the men entered the salon, Simon was last through the door. He immediately walked to Everett, turning them both so their conversation was private. Simon whispered something to Everett, then his gaze met Cora’s. Everett nodded once and Simon left the room. After excusing himself to his mother, Everett followed. Cora, standing near the doorway, watched as both men disappeared down the hallway.

Cora wondered if he was going to the maze now. Given her realization in the dining room, was it wise to follow him tonight? After just a few minutes, when Simon didn’t return, she decided to risk more entanglements in her heart for another moment with him before she left England. Perhaps love was worth it even for a few days. She slipped around the edges of the room and out the door.