Wishes & Tears (17 page)

“Did anyone ever tell you that you have a lovely smile?” he asked, surveying her.

“Someone just did.”

The Forrester home glistened like a jewel among the ruins. A delayed spring cleaning resulted in gleaming hand-scrubbed floors, clean sponged walls, aired draperies, batted rugs, laundered doilies, sparkling oiled moldings, and lemon waxed furniture. The scent of lemons and fresh air wafted throughout the home. Lamp fixtures were polished, globes shimmering from a vinegar and water wash. Dimmed gas lamps and flickering candles warmed the wood and tapestry adding a refined elegance to the indigo dusk.

Hired wait staff in starched uniforms marched around the room like penguins, serving steaming hors d’oeuvres and champagne to mingling guests in the parlor. Men in dapper frock coats and creased striped trousers posed with women in couture creations by Worth and Drecoll, sheath gowns in muted tones and “Alice” blue, elbow-length gloves, and ostrich feathers fluttering in their hair.

After the chaos of the earthquake and fire, the prenuptial soiree for Doctor Ian Forrester and Miss Constance LaDue was one of the first social events held in the city. There was a renewed sense of hope in San Francisco and what better way to anticipate the future than with an upcoming wedding. Neighbors, friends, and the elite ousted from their Nob Hill mansions gathered at 92 Sacramento Street to reminisce about the past and celebrate the future.

Faith accompanied Andrew, introducing him to guests, as the doctor had requested, making sure that he minded his manners and was a cordial little gentleman. Andrew snickered at all the fussing and fawning over him. He swiped damp kisses from his cheeks and stuck out his tongue more than once behind a guest’s back. Faith reprimanded him and removed a handmade slingshot and dried peas from his back breeches pocket. Faith knew that the boy hated being doted on by strangers. To keep him in line she promised him sweets before bedtime. Bribing children, she knew, was looked down upon by Doctor Spock but with Andrew, it was the only thing that assured proper behavior. Besides, Faith surmised, Doctor Spock had yet to be born.

As she controlled Andrew, Faith could feel Doctor Forrester’s eyes set upon her. She wasn’t sure if it was his son’s angelic behavior or something else that prompted him to take notice. Faith purposely ignored his gaze, instead concentrating on her charge. Inside, though, she felt her stomach flutter and warmth radiating within her. Thoughts of her destined future danced in her mind. She wondered if she should be happy or frightened by it.

The doctor’s gaze did not go unnoticed by Miss Constance LaDue who clung to the man like Saran Wrap. She was ever the proper fiancée. Dressed in a virginal white silk gown with pale pink sash, her pompadour hairstyle adorned with a fragrant gardenia, she was all sweet and prim. Her kidskin-gloved hand rested on the doctor’s arm as she batted her wispy lashes up at him.

The girl nauseated Faith.

As if Constance knew, she cast a superficial smile at Faith, eyes burning with the desire to have Faith dismissed as Andrew’s governess and out of her life. Faith swallowed hard. What if the girl had more influence on the doctor than she surmised? After all, the wedding was still planned. What if he did dismiss her as Andrew’s governess? How would destiny kick in? If destiny could be altered, where would it leave her? She placed her hands on Andrew’s narrow shoulders to suppress the trembling.

“I propose a toast,” a stout, gray-bearded man announced, his robust voice startling Faith from her thoughts.

A hush fell over the room as guests formed a tight circle around the man, Doctor Forrester and Miss LaDue. Waiters scurried, pouring frothing champagne into crystal goblets. Bubbles danced in the amber liquid, reflected by flickering candlelight and gas lamps, in the thin glass. A goblet was thrust at Faith. She grabbed it, tilting the glass, liquid drizzling down her fingers. She suppressed the urge to lick them.

“This is a most special evening,” the man continued, raising his glass. “So much adversity and misfortune has affected our lives of late, it is with great pleasure that we gather together in celebration. The esteemed Doctor Ian Forrester and the radiant Miss Constance LaDue are formally announcing their engagement. A June first wedding is planned and I’ve been assured that you all will be in receipt of an invitation. Let us lift our glasses and toast this young, well-bred couple as they embark on a new life in this new city.”

Doctor Forrester, with Miss LaDue attached to his arm, stepped forward. Guests raised their filled glasses. After a silent moment of sipping champagne, applause resounded. Guests gushed over the doctor and his intended. Messages of congratulations and best wishes filled the room with joyful chatter.

Faith set down her glass of unsipped champagne. She couldn’t bring the glass to her lips, couldn’t even applaud. A sinking feeling cut into the pit of her stomach. Fear and doubt and the blended scent of lavender water, roses, and gardenia made her queasy. If the doctor married the young nymphet, she would be stuck in a world where she wouldn’t want to live. The walls felt as if they were closing in on her. She was hot and clammy and chilled all at once. Realizing that no one would miss them, she grabbed Andrew’s arm and swooshed him out of the room.

Andrew seemed as eager to leave as she. At the news of his father’s wedding, the boy broke down in tears.

“I hate her! I hate her!” Andrew cried as Faith walked him through the foyer and up the stairs. “I hate her!”

“That isn’t a nice thing to say,” Faith told him, though she agreed completely.

“I do hate her! She’s not my mother!”

“No, she isn’t. No one can ever replace your mother. She can be your friend.”

He swiped his eyes with his hands. “I don’t want Miss La Doo Doo as my friend. I want you as my friend.”

“I’m already your friend.”

“Why doesn’t my papa marry you?”

She shook her head, lips parting in a partial smile. She looked down at Andrew meeting his gaze. Wisdom out of the mouths of babes.

• • •

As she tucked Andrew and his ratty bear in bed, she envied his innocence. He could go to sleep knowing he was loved and had a roof over his head. Faith knew that she would lay awake worried and confused. Her future depended upon the doctor, a man she really didn’t know but was supposedly destined to marry. Ever since her first time travel adventure, she had thrown common sense out the window. Coming back seemed like the only way to escape Bradley and have an opportunity for a completely new life. Seeing Constance LaDue and the doctor had given her pause. She suddenly felt like an outsider interfering with other lives. After seeing Miss LaDue and the other ladies in their silk beaded gowns, sapphires and diamonds, she felt like the hired help. At the turn of the century, wasn’t it scandalous for society gentlemen to court and wed the household help? She was just a governess now, no longer a respected teacher and wealthy urbanite.

Andrew’s dark eyes were fixed on her, frightened by her somber demeanor.

“Oh,” Faith said, composing herself. “I almost forgot and I bet you did, too.”

“My surprise?” Andrew asked, his eyes opening wide like saucers.

Faith sat on the edge of his bed and nodded with a grin.

“Yippy!” He scooted up and sat in the bed.

Faith placed her hand in her uniform’s pocket and removed chunks of crystalline rock candy. Andrew’s eyes lit up.

“You can have one piece now. The rest best be saved for tomorrow.”

He reached up and grabbed the chunk of clear candy and stared at it as if it were a rare diamond instead. He drew it up to his mouth and sucked on the hard, sweet morsel. Faith watched his expression of innocent pleasure. To children, little things meant so much.

“Thank you! Thank you!” he screamed between licks. “I still don’t know why you can’t marry my papa.”

Suddenly, his eyes focused on the doorway. He jammed the candy in his mouth, covering his face with splayed fingers.

Faith turned toward the doorway only to be met by the ebony eyes of Doctor Ian Forrester. His head was tilted, his face with a most contorted and quizzical expression. His brows were knitted, nose pinched, and eyes open wide as if he had seen a ghost.

“Sir, it was getting late so I thought Master Andrew ought to be put to bed,” Faith said, heart racing. She thought for sure he would be reprimanding her on the spot for removing the boy from the party where he was a novelty.

“I quite agree,” he said, softening his expression as he sauntered into the dimly lit room.

Faith had lowered the lamp earlier to urge Andrew to sleep. Now she was grateful, for it dimmed her view of the doctor and hoped that he had a less focused view of her. As he approached the bedside, towering over her and Andrew, she was a bundle of knotted emotion. Her heart was out of control and she was giddy. It was so unlike her to have a case of the jitters. Ever since she went back through time, she was unlike herself.

“I’m sure you wish to tuck your son in for the night. I’ll leave you both alone,” she said, trying to appear composed. She jumped up from the bed only to find herself intimately facing the doctor. So close was she that the front of her drab gown brushed his waistcoat and she could smell his scent of spice and mint. When she looked up, her eyes caught his. For what seemed like forever, they stood in intimate silence.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said, stepping aside. No respectable woman of the day would ever stand so close to a man. “I … I’ll leave you to your son.”

“Miss Donahue, wait in the hall. I wish to have a word with you.”

Faith paced the upstairs hall, hating herself. She would surely be dismissed. She not only removed the boy from his father’s betrothal party, gave the boy contraband candy, she acted brazen. She was skating on thin ice and it seemed to be getting thinner and thinner at her every move.

“Miss Donahue,” the doctor’s dusky voice called as he closed the door to his son’s room and approached her in the hall.

“Doctor?” She frowned, closed her eyes, and drew a deep breath for courage.

“Candy, huh?” he asked.

“Only one piece. I promised him. I don’t break promises.”

He chuckled, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. “Now I know the secret to your success and why Andrew holds you in such high regard.”

“I am not in the habit of bribing children. I do believe in rewarding good behavior in difficult situations,” she explained.

“I agree, the situation downstairs is most difficult.” He analyzed her with his eyes. “It seems my son feels that I am planning to marry the wrong woman.”

“Children, they say the silliest things,” she said, trying to catch her breath, trying to make light of the topic. His eyes were x-raying her and she began to fidget in place.

“Children are more perceptive than most adults,” he said. He removed a hand from his pocket and began to stroke his chin. As he pondered her, he asked, “What is your opinion?”

“About … what?”

“Am I betrothed to the wrong woman?”

She took a step back. “Doctor, it is truly your personal decision.”

“I am asking you the question.”

She shifted her gaze from his dark eyes to the floor. She had to shake the urge to fling herself into his arms and to kiss him. His magnetic gaze, the way he stood just a little too close, the turn in the conversation, was having a strange effect on her. She couldn’t blame it on the champagne. She didn’t touch it. Though destiny revealed that she was to marry him, this was the first inkling of romance she felt. It was as if his eyes were hypnotizing her into fulfilling fate. Yet, she had to look away in fear. So much had gone wrong in her life, she wasn’t sure what was right anymore.

He interrupted her thoughts. “Miss LaDue is young and beautiful. She is charming, of good breeding, and dutiful.”

“You describe her like a pedigreed dog,” Faith mumbled.

He smiled. “Ah, but dogs have spontaneity, the desire for fun and play, an independent streak.”

“I’m sure she can fetch and come when called,” Faith said to herself. She could envision Constance LaDue as a groomed French poodle, clipped and pouffed in white, with a diamond-studded collar.

“Apparently, she has what you seek in a wife or you wouldn’t be formally engaged to her,” Faith said, looking straight at him.

“She does have the qualities a successful doctor should seek in a wife.”

“Doctor, I think, though, one important quality is missing here.”

He tilted his head. “What is that?”

“Love.”

“Love?” He choked out the word.

“I’m not very familiar with courtship in the higher classes in 1906, but in the future, love plays an integral part in every successful relationship.” She kept looking at him to gauge his reaction.

He began to fidget. Catching himself, he clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace. “Love can come with time and patience.”

“And one can grow old waiting,” Faith replied.

“You seem to be an expert on the subject. Have you ever been in love or are you still waiting?” He stopped to face her.

“I thought I was in love once. I was really too young and naïve to understand that true love is so much deeper and meaningful, heart and soul conjoined.” She thought of Brad and how she fell for his good looks, charm, and earning potential. She should have been looking into his heart for integrity, respect, and honesty.

“Wisdom from a sage.”

“Why?”

“You do claim to be from one hundred years in the future.”

“When, Doctor, will you believe it’s not a claim but a fact?”

He winked. “We’ll have to continue this conversation. The hour is late and I must bid my guests adieu.”

Andrew awakened the morning after the betrothal party shrieking in agony. Faith rushed into his bedroom thinking that her young charge was frightened over a nightmare. The little boy’s arms flailed out as he tossed his head, writhing in his bed. His face was flush with a rash, his trembling lips blue. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Andrew, Andrew,” Faith said in a soothing voice, sitting on the bed and reaching down to grasp his wrists. “Calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”