Timeless (15 page)

CHAPTER 29

As promised, Drew stopped by during afternoon calling hours the next day, presumably to see how I was doing after the scare last night. I wanted to tell him the truth—that I hated watching out with every move I made because I was terrified that whoever wanted me dead would succeed, and that I wanted to go back home to normal life.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t speak freely, since social customs dictated that Lady Givens be in the room during calling hours as well. Not only that, but I had to repeat the lie that Lord Givens had told us at breakfast this morning, that further investigation proved the carriage hadn’t been tampered with, and the problem was due to the bad weather mixed with the carriage being old and in need of updating.

I didn’t believe him for a second. Yes, the carriage was old, but our coachman had been working for our family for years. I knew from exploring what I could of my past self’s memories that he wouldn’t raise alarm unless he was certain he was correct.

I also wondered about Lord Givens’ motivation behind the lie. My first conclusion was that it looked bad to have an attempted murder occur during an event hosted at his house, and he wanted to stop the gossip. But the other, more sinister possibility haunted my thoughts: What if he was behind the attempt and was trying to cover his trail?

It made me antsier to speak with Drew and Chelsea in private. However, Lady Givens seemed so thrilled that Drew had stopped by that I doubted she would be leaving the room any time soon.

Not thirty minutes had passed before Mr. Brookes came into the sitting room and announced that my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Davenport, had stopped by. They seemed relieved to see me. Lady Givens broke the “news” to them about the problem with the carriage being an accident, and as much as I hated the lie, it put my parents at ease. I couldn’t imagine what had been going through their minds last night. They had no idea about the relationship between Drew and me, so they must have been confused about why someone would want anybody from our family dead.

Lady Givens switched the topic as soon as she could, asking my parents how they enjoyed the ball. This led to a lengthy discussion of who was wearing what, who said what to whom, and who danced with each other and how many times. It seemed like my mother could gossip with Lady Givens for hours on end.

All I wanted was to speak to Drew and Chelsea alone, but that was looking more and more impossible.

This was made more impossible when James and his parents stopped by. Presumably, they were there to thank Lord and Lady Givens for throwing such a wonderful party, although I suspected they were looking for a way to get James under my skin. I wasn’t spending as much time with James since I’d met Drew, and I could tell he was worried that my feelings for him were waning. Which, of course, they were.

I wanted to break the engagement as soon as possible.

But making such a strong, public announcement would only make whoever wanted to kill me more determined to finish the deed. Breaking the engagement would have to wait until the person coming after me was stopped.

The awkward conversation between the group lasted for another hour, although it felt longer. There was also no opportunity for Drew, Chelsea, and me to converse privately. I was bursting with the anticipation of wanting to tell Drew what Chelsea and I had discussed last night, and to hear his opinions, but I had to keep my emotions in check.

I would be able to talk with him eventually. For now, I had to be patient.

“Would you all like to stay for dinner?” Lady Givens asked when the conversation lulled.

“That would be lovely,” my mother said. “Thank you.”

Mrs. Williams accepted the invitation as well, and Lady Givens left the room to inform the kitchen staff to prepare food for the added guests. I imagined this might cause a frenzy in the kitchens, but no one seemed concerned.

This also meant I would have to sit through a long, drawn out dinner before speaking privately with Drew and Chelsea. It wasn’t what I wanted to do, but with the social rules inherent with the early nineteenth century, I had no other option.

At dinner I ended up squished between James and Mr. Williams. I say squished because Mr. Williams was quite a large man—so large that I was surprised his bottom fit on the chair. James didn’t seem to have inherited this unfortunate gene, but who knows what could happen in the future.

Lord and Lady Givens arranged it so Chelsea sat next to Drew, and that I was as far away from the two of them as possible. None of this would have seemed odd to anyone—since I was engaged to James—but it angered me. I didn’t like being told where to sit. It wasn’t my home, though, so I wasn’t going to say anything. Plus, in the scheme of things it wouldn’t be a big deal.

When the red wine came out, Mrs. Williams raised her glass to make a toast. “To a wonderful party held by Lord and Lady Givens last night, and to the hope of many more fabulous nights to come!” she said.

Everyone raised their glasses and took a sip. I did the same—but only to be polite. I wasn’t a big drinker at home. The one time my mom allowed me to have red wine at a nice restaurant, I became fatigued and ended up with a headache for the rest of the night.

I stuck with water instead, hoping no one would notice. I assumed my past self had no trouble drinking wine at meals, since it wasn’t illegal for teenagers to drink alcohol in the nineteenth century and she would have grown accustomed to it, but I didn’t want to risk it.

“Are you not drinking your wine?” Mr. Williams asked mid-way through the main course. So much for no one noticing.

“I have a slight headache, so I’m only going to be drinking water tonight,” I explained.

“Well, we mustn’t let a fine glass of wine go to waste!” Mr. Williams said. His ears were bright pink—he’d had a lot to drink, and I suspected he was feeling the effects of the alcohol. “Would you mind if I had yours?”

I told him it was fine. Without delay, he reached for my glass and downed half of its contents in one gulp.

“Oh, honey,” Mrs. Williams said quietly, sounding exasperated. “I’m sure the staff wouldn’t mind refreshing your wine. There’s no need to make a spectacle of yourself by drinking from Miss Davenport’s glass.”

“Miss Davenport doesn’t mind,” Mr. Williams said, taking another gulp of the wine. “Right, dear?”

“Right.” I nodded, although I agreed with Mrs. Williams that Mr. Williams’ drunkenness was causing him to “make a spectacle” of himself. I didn’t say it out loud, though. 

Lady Givens ordered Mr. Brookes to bring more wine to the table, but not before Mr. Williams had finished my entire glass. When Mr. Brookes asked me if I would like more wine, I said I was fine with water. He didn’t look pleased, but that wasn’t my problem.

“Do you have any news on the date of Mr. James’ and Miss Davenport’s upcoming nuptials?” Lady Givens asked Mrs. Williams.

This question led to a long (and for me, unwelcome) discussion of possible dates and locations for the wedding. The mothers were excited to discuss every detail, and their husbands seemed more than happy to take the time to properly enjoy their meat.

Only Drew, Chelsea, and I knew that this wedding would never happen.

“You’ve been quiet this evening, my dear,” Mrs. Williams observed, looking at me in concern. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine,” I said. “I just have a slight headache, is all.”

Unlike earlier, when I had used the same excuse for my reason of not drinking wine, now it was the truth. I wondered if the headache could be from the wine, although I doubted it, since I’d only had a sip. I was probably just stressed from everything that had happened recently.

“I hope you’re not coming down with anything,” she said. “You had quite a scare last night. I’m sure we’re all glad that’s been cleared up.”

“Yes, very much so,” I said, although the mention of the almost-accident put me on edge once more. “So much has happened in the past day. I’m sure I’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I do hope so, dear,” she said before taking another sip of her wine.

Luckily, that ended the conversation about the wedding. But unluckily, it seemed like it was going to be impossible to get time alone with Chelsea and Drew. This meal felt like it was lasting forever. I was glad when the main course ended and dessert was served, and while I was full from the meal, I ate some fruit to be polite.

“Now that the weather is better, we can attach the side seat to the chaise so Elizabeth can come home tonight,” my mother said once we finished dessert. Then she turned to Lady Givens. “Thank you again for lending it to us. I hope it won’t be long until our coach is repaired.”

“It was no trouble,” Lady Givens assured her. “Your coach should be ready within a few days. I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Oh, but it’s not your fault,” my mother said. “I’m just glad my coachman inspected the carriage before taking us home. Imagine what could have happened if we hadn’t known it needed a repair!”

“Yes,” Lady Givens said. “It would have been quite grave, indeed.”

When dinner ended, Lady Givens led the women to the drawing room, while the men stayed behind in the dining room to continue drinking and talking. The mothers walked ahead, leaving Chelsea and I to follow.

“When are we going to get time to talk to Drew?” Chelsea whined, quietly enough so only I could hear. “I feel like I’m being baby-sat all the time here.”

“I’m getting annoyed, too,” I said. “All this protocol is making it impossible for us to do what we have to.”

“I just want to fix this mess and go home,” she said.

“We had no way of knowing everyone would stop by tonight,” I said. “It made everything a million times more difficult. It might be best to wait for tomorrow. We can meet up in the yard behind my house and talk there.”

“I guess we don’t have another choice,” Chelsea said in defeat. “We’ll have to get word to Drew.”

Which was exactly what we did when everyone was saying goodnight.

I hoped we would come to a solid plan tomorrow, because as fascinating as this experience was, I was more than ready to go home.

CHAPTER 30

As planned, Drew and Chelsea met up with me in the yard behind my house the following afternoon. Chelsea and I briefed Drew on our list of possible suspects, and asked for his opinion.

“I was thinking along those same lines,” he said. “And my mom told me something interesting before I left today.”

“What?” I asked, anxious for him to continue.

“She ran into Mrs. Williams this morning while shopping in town, and Mrs. Williams said that Mr. Williams had been terribly ill all night. He blamed it on the food at dinner, but no one else got sick.”

“Sounds like he got a bug,” I said. “Or maybe …”

“Maybe what?” Chelsea asked.

“I only took a small sip of my wine, but I wasn’t feeling one hundred percent last night,” I said. “I thought it was nerves because of the pressure of what we have to do here. But Mr. Williams drank my entire glass when I said I wasn’t feeling up to drinking.”

“So you think someone put something in your wine?” Chelsea’s eyes widened. “That’s absurd!”

“Is it?” I asked. “I’m not an expert on poisons, but I would guess that the amount needed to kill me wouldn’t be lethal to Mr. Williams, who must be triple my size. It would only make him ill.”

“Possibly,” Chelsea said. “But I don’t think we have enough evidence to assume anything.”

“It is something to think about, though,” I said.   

“And you’re not going to like the second part of what she said,” Drew continued.

I looked at him in dread. “There’s more?”

“My mom convinced Mrs. Williams that she should host an engagement party for you and James on Saturday night.”

“But that’s not even a week away!” I said, horrified. “I was hoping the engagement would be broken by then—not that we would be celebrating.”

“I knew you wouldn’t like it,” Drew said.

“We’ll have to make sure this party doesn’t happen,” I concluded. “It’s only going to make things harder and more embarrassing for everyone involved when the truth comes out.”

“Or we could use the party as a way to get the answers we need,” Chelsea suggested.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Everyone involved will be there,” she said. “We’ll just have to corner the suspects, and get one of them to admit to what they’re trying to do.”

“I doubt it will be that easy,” I said.

“But we have to try,” she insisted. “Unless either of you has a better idea?”

I didn’t, and I looked at Drew to see his reaction.

“I have an idea,” he said. “But it’s going to cause quite the commotion.”

I leaned forward, intrigued. “And what is this idea?”

He shared his plan with Chelsea and me. At first I was shocked, but then I realized it was so crazy it might work.

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but if we want to do this right, it needs to be dramatic,” I said. “Saturday night we’re getting to the bottom of this. And then we’re going home.”