Whispers from the Past (39 page)

“Dorcas. You are worth a thousand such people—”

“Are you sure that William should hang on to the burden of me?” She shook her head in exasperation, even as her smile stayed sweet. “We will encounter much that I would never wish for William. But do you know what else I do not wish for him? A life without
me
. I love him as no one else can. I may be a burden, but I shall make it worth his while.”

I could not argue. She was correct—for her and William. But could these same sentiments apply to me and Mark? I did not think so. William and Dorcas were so well-matched. Both were beautiful, kind, wise, and well-bred. And, of course, they loved each other completely. Generously. Her lame leg was inconsequential to the larger glory of their lives.

Mark had other choices besides me. He would find many young women worthy of him at his university. They would be everything he deserved from the day he met them. With me, it would be years until I caught up to him—and there would be some ways I never would. Could our hearts survive my mistakes? Could we weather my lack of knowledge, education, and ambition?

I agreed with Dorcas about the purity of my feelings. Mark might meet young ladies capable of loving him well, but none would love him better. If only that were enough.

“Susanna?” Dorcas watched me with concern. “Will you ponder what I’ve said?”

Before I could respond, there was a tap at the door and Mrs. Eton entered in a rustle of silk skirts. “Oh, my dear,” she said with a gasp. “You are breathtaking. I cannot wait to see my son’s face when he has his first glimpse of you.”

“Thank you.” Dorcas beamed.

“The carriage awaits. Let us go.”

They left the room, arms linked, chatting happily.

I followed more slowly, marveling at Dorcas’s words, wondering if they might ever take root in my heart and grow.

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY
-E
IGHT

H
OME AND
F
RIENDS

When I’d arrived at Newman College in August, I’d hunted for the perfect way to spend my unfilled hours and found it at a tutoring center. My specialty turned out to be helping students with English as a second language.

Three months later, there was a small crowd waiting when I showed up for that day’s shift. I’d developed a reputation as the guy to go to when it came to government bureaucracy. All of that research I’d done to help Susanna with identification came in handy for international students. Forms and paperwork confused them, and sometimes I’d spend our tutoring sessions explaining the system.

When our volunteer shifts ended, my girlfriend and I walked back to my residence hall, holding hands. Madison talked nonstop while I admired the night sky. Everything about this part of Virginia was gorgeous. Including Madison.

She was a commuter student. Her dad was a professor here at Newman. We’d met first at freshman orientation and then later at the tutoring center. She asked me out, and we’d been dating since. Her family liked me. My family liked her. It was nice. Uncomplicated.

When we reached the entrance, she stopped and smiled at me hesitantly.

I dropped a kiss on her lips. She sighed and drew back.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.” She was smiling, but something was off.

“What’s going on?”

“I think we’re…not working out.”

Wow. Did not see that coming. “You’re breaking up with me.”

She nodded.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about this, but I did know what I
wasn’t
feeling. I wasn’t mad or shocked. It was more like
inevitable
.

She scooped her fine, silvery-gold hair with one hand and pulled it over her shoulder to hang in a shiny wave down her chest. She always did that when she was nervous. “We’ve been dating two months. I’m ready for more, but I don’t think you have more to give.” She shrugged. “At least not to me.”

“Madison—”

“It’s fine, Mark.” Her smile trembled. “Someone hurt you badly, and you’re still not over it.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I watched and waited.

“Sometimes, that’s just the way things are.” She looked away. “Who was she? Gabrielle Stone?”

“
No
. Where did you hear about her?”

“Being the ex of Gabrielle Stone is something we would notice, even up here in the mountains.”

“We weren’t really dating.” It was a secret I hadn’t shared with many people, but it felt okay to tell Madison. “I was still messed up.”

She looked back at me curiously. “Who would’ve thought that Gabrielle Stone and I had something like this in common? Neither of us could make you forget the girl who hurt you.”

I nodded. I could
never
forget.

“Wow. That makes me feel a little better. Can you get her back?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know where she is. She’s… disappeared.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“May second.” To be exact. I pressed my lips together before I revealed any more about how messed up I remained.

She linked her fingers through mine and brushed her thumb over the top of my hand. “I wondered if there was something wrong with me, you know. Two months is a long time for holding hands and sweet kisses, and it’s been really nice. Easy. G-rated. In many ways, you’re still faithful to her.”

She was right, of course. In many ways, Susanna still had me. No telling how long that would last.

Madison leaned forward to kiss my cheek. “Good luck, Mark.” Then she was striding away.

I’d stayed at college every weekend so far this semester. Susanna’s ghost lingered too completely in Raleigh. It was easier not being there.

But I couldn’t avoid it anymore. I had to spend Thanksgiving week at home.

I took off after classes Friday afternoon and hit the interstate. Dread filled me with each mile that I drove. For the next eight days, my family would be watching me for any signs of sadness. Especially my mom, which was ironic. She’d always thought Susanna and I were too close.

Even though I knew they were worried, I’d said nothing to reassure them, because what could I say? I
wasn’t
fine. I would be fine one day. I just didn’t know when that day would be.

That’s why college had been such a relief. There was so much to do. I had classes and the mountain biking team. I had the volunteer work, and I was so good at it that a social work professor had contacted me recently to recruit me for some sort of specialized major they had.

I would survive the holiday. It would be fine.

Mom had dinner waiting on me. Fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Even Dad ate it. The conversation was good, nothing controversial, and then I escaped to the laundry room with a huge bag of dirty clothes.

Breakfast on Saturday morning just kept the awesome going. Omelets, hash browns, stewed apples. If Mom wanted to work out her worry by feeding me well, I was okay with that.

I was heading for the coffeepot for a second cup when my phone rang. I smiled as I picked up. “Hey, Granddad.”

“What’s the atmosphere like over there?”

I could practically feel my parents’ stares. “Intense.”

He snorted. “Want to spend the night here? You can tell your folks that I need your help.”

“Sure, Granddad.” My parents would see through that lie, but they wouldn’t make a big deal about it. “See you in a couple of hours.”

I ended up spending two nights. Granddad and I did some chores. Gran fed me every dish I’d ever mentioned liking. And I returned home on Monday feeling good.

My phone went off Tuesday while I was in the rec room on the computer. It was Benita. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. When do you go back to Newman?”

“Saturday. Did Jesse come home?”

“About that.” She sighed. “We’re not together anymore.”

“What?” Wow. I hadn’t expected that. “When did that happen?”

“A few weeks ago. I’ve been replaced by a chemistry major.”

“Damn.” Okay, completely stunned.

“Yeah.” She blew out a breath. “So, anyway, I’m doing this concert thing downtown and thought maybe you might come.”

“Sure. Where and when?”

“Seven PM tonight at Christ Church. Do you know where it is?”

Right across the parking lot from the State Archives. I knew it well. “I’ll be there.”

“It’s a string quartet, and some of the music is a little weird.”

“It’ll be fine. Want to go out for something to eat afterwards?”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “Mark, how are you?”

“I’m good. See you later.”

I’d have to leave the Archives by five-thirty. I hadn’t checked documents there since July. The staff was likely to remember me, though, since I’d been fiercely determined, looking for her name everywhere. I hadn’t found anything.

I walked through the Search Room and went straight for the drawers with newspapers on microfilm. It shuddered through me, an odd, shaky feeling I got whenever I tried to peer into history. Into Susanna’s unknown past.

There were hundreds of pages to skim in the
Raleigh Register
of the early nineteenth century. When I’d visited this summer, I’d browsed through every page from May through August 1805. I’d searched the digital Archives endlessly. Court records. Contracts. There were plenty of Susannas, just not mine.

Would I find anything about her today? Was I being crazy? Could I ever admit that I was obsessed with finding any tiny news of her?

No. It would worry my folks. They would think I was addicted to the pain.

I set the twin spools of microfilm in the machine and started on September 1st, 1805—then checked the time. Less than an hour until closing.

The pages rolled slowly past, but nothing seemed interesting until the final week of September. The name Eton appeared. William Eton, Phoebe’s first love. He was the man who could have been Susanna’s brother-in-law. The article announced the wedding of William Eton to Dorcas Pratt, to be held October fifteenth in the State House.

I fast-forwarded to the week of October fifteenth. Nothing. Nor the next week. But I hit the jackpot at the beginning of November. A long and flowery article took up half a column, describing the wedding of William Eton to Dorcas Pratt.

There were descriptions of Dorcas’s gown and the menu at the wedding breakfast. There was praise for the beauty and elegance of the events. And finally, near the end, a list of the guests, including “the bride’s dearest friend, Mrs. Susanna Lewis.”

I froze. She still used my name.

“…the Archives close in fifteen minutes…”

I didn’t have time to think about it. I punched the print key, boxed up the microfilm, and returned the archival stuff to the drawer. Then I left the building, walked two blocks to the church, and sat on a bench in the side garden. I read the newspaper article again, then folded it into careful quarters and slipped it into my back pocket.

The quartet arrived, laughing and talking as they entered the sanctuary. Benita didn’t notice me sitting in the shadows.

I didn’t want to be noticed. I wanted to think.

Of course Susanna used my last name. Society thought she was married. Yet seeing it there had affected me just the same.

How had she explained my absence to everyone? My lack of communication?

Over the past months, I’d begun to wish she’d left a journal for me. Or letters. Anything so I could know that she’d been happy.

Did she like being thought of as my wife? How long had she stayed in Raleigh? What had she done for a living? Did she have her own home and friends?

Had she ached for me as much as I ached for her?

I had to suck it up and go inside. Rising swiftly, I fell in line behind the other concert-goers trickling in.