Moonlight Wishes In Time (29 page)

The rest of the night stretched endlessly. Mattie turned down offers to dance, and hovered near Mrs. Sinclair. Sylvie popped by occasionally to urge her to dance, but Mattie declined. Lord Hamilton’s sons attempted to fetch her drinks, but she turned down their offers and coughed as if she had a cold. William did not approach her, not once. She saw him occasionally on the other side of the room. He danced with Louisa Covington only once, she noticed, and appeared to keep to himself for the rest of the evening. She felt as if she were making his life miserable, and she missed the smile on his face.

William continued to keep his eyes averted from her even on the way home. He said nothing as they descended the carriage, only bowing before turning away. Mattie thought at the moment that she could have done without electricity to bring a smile back to his face. But the prospect of chamber pots for the rest of her life brought her up short from her fantasy of begging William to
take her back, if indeed he had ever taken her in the beginning.

Mattie rose early to the sound of horse’s hooves on the ground below. She ran to the window just in time to see William mount his horse and ride away, disappearing in the morning mist down the drive.

She’d suspected he would leave without saying goodbye, but the awful reality of it almost took her breath away, so painful was the feeling. In tears, she slumped to her knees at the foot of the window, hugging herself and rocking back and forth. Vague images of the memory of his cold eyes and flat expression from the night before tore at her heart.

Now, more then ever, she felt she had to leave the house, but the idea terrified her. To be out amongst the general populace of 1825 without a protector—a woman alone in the early nineteenth century? The idea that William would no longer be around to protect her terrified her just as badly.

She allowed Jane to serve her toast and tea in her bedroom, and then dressed with Jane’s help in a lovely pale yellow dress of Sylvie’s just before noon.

“Jane, I need your help.”

“What can I do, Miss Crockwell?” Jane asked as she finished dressing Mattie’s hair.

“I need you to come with me to the garden. I have to take a walk, and I need a chaperone.”

“Of course, miss, I can accompany you. But a chaperone?” Jane gave her a worried  look.

“Well, you’ll find out anyway, but I’m going to meet Mr. Stephen Carver.”

Jane’s eyes rounded, and her hand stilled as she set a pin in Mattie’s hair.

“Miss, are you sure? That doesn’t sound quite—”

“Proper, I know. Well, it’s okay. We’re just going to talk about America, and we can speak to each other without the more formal restrictions of Georgian society there. I hope you don’t mind. You won’t get in trouble, will you?”

Jane shook her head. “No, miss. I do not think so. Mrs. Bailey said I should attend you.”

“Good! Are we ready?”

“Yes, miss.”

Mattie made it down to the garden only moments before noon, when Mrs. Brookfield and Stephen were expected to arrive. She hoped Mrs. Sinclair or Sylvie wouldn’t come looking for her to attend a house call.

She wasn’t sure where in the garden Stephen might think to find her, so she headed over to the formal gardens on the side of the house facing away from the drawing room, and she sent Jane over to the front of the house as a lookout so the maid could let Stephen know where she was.

Tippy-toeing around such a massive estate was presenting itself as a complex task, and she wasn’t sure she had the imaginative creativity to handle it. What she would give to be able to text Stephen on her cell phone at the moment, or even William for that matter, just to let him know she thought of him and to ask him to understand and forgive her.

She wandered through the gardens, nervous about being in full view of anyone in the house except those on the front side such as the drawing room. Jane hurried back within ten minutes.

“I am certain that Mr. Carver saw me as he descended the carriage,” she said. “I gestured in this direction, and I believe he understood the message. He nodded before he handed Lady Brookfield down.”

“Thank you, Jane!” Mattie said. “Let’s sit for a moment.” She seated herself on a bench. “What I have to say to Mr. Carver is private, though, so…” Mattie looked at the maid with a cheesy smile.

“I shall stay out of hearing but within view, miss,” Jane said.

“You’re a pal, Jane, you really are.”

Jane scrunched her forehead inquiringly, but at that moment, Stephen came into view. He strode confidently across the lawn, not appearing in the least concerned whether he was discovered. With a nod to Jane, he tipped his hat to Mattie as he approached her and took a seat. Jane moved away to wander the paths.

“Alone at last,” Stephen said with a pleasant smile.

“Please don’t get the wrong idea, Stephen,” Mattie warned.

“Not at all, Miss Crockwell. At any rate, my interests are fixed, as I think are yours.”

Mattie thought she understood what he meant.

“You mean Louisa Covington?”

Stephen jerked his head in her direction and nodded sheepishly.

“Am I so transparent?”

“Yes, you are, actually,” Mattie smiled. “How does she feel about you?”

He looked down as if to study the ground. “I am not certain. Marriage to me would involve a very long journey. I enjoy England, but America is my home and where I wish to live. That I have fallen in love with an Englishwoman is ironic.” He looked at her quickly and straightened. “But we are not here to discuss my affairs. How may I assist you, Miss Crockwell?”

Now that the moment was here, Mattie was reluctant to tell Stephen about the time traveling. There was always a danger that someone would haul her away.

She looked down at her hands, lacing and unlacing her fingers together.

“I need to leave this house, to find somewhere to live for the next three weeks, but I can’t tell you why.” She looked up at him with a hopeful expression. “I wondered if you had any ideas. I’m absolutely penniless—in fact, the clothes on my back were loaned to me by Sylvie.”

Stephen reared his head back with a startled look. “Penniless? And no clothes of your own? Goodness, Miss Crockwell, what has befallen you?”

“Would you believe I stowed away aboard a ship? That I’m actually from the working class in the United States?” Mattie thought the stowing-away part was very clever.

“A stowaway? I cannot imagine how arduous that must have been. And why would you wish to stowaway aboard a vessel to come to England?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she shrugged. “A silly idea.”

Stephen regarded her with a puzzled face. “I must confess, Miss Crockwell, that your tale lacks a certain…conviction. And you tell me that you must leave the house, but cannot say why, for three weeks.”

Mattie’s cheeks burned. It was difficult being called a liar, especially when she was one.

“I know, I’m sorry, but I really can’t tell you much of the truth. What I can tell you is that I have fallen in love with William, and I really can’t, so I have to leave.”

“That is certainly frank, Miss Crockwell. From what I have seen, I think William may share your affections. Why must you leave? I was under the impression from your conversation last night that he had done nothing to offend you. Has the family discovered your situation, your status, and asked you to leave?”

“No, they actually know about me and have taken care of me. And they know I have to leave in three weeks. Oh, gosh, listen to me. They sound perfect! How could I walk out on them without so much as a thanks?”

“I am certain you would thank them, Miss Crockwell, but I must admit I still do not understand the dilemma. However, if you feel you must leave, I can loan you the necessary funds to travel to and secure quarters in Southampton until the sailing of your ship. I do so with misgiving, Miss Crockwell, as it is not at all proper, nor safe for you to travel alone either to Southampton or back to America. Is there no other recourse?”

Mattie colored at his offer of money, but frankly, that was probably just what she needed most. Money and courage. The idea of hanging out in Southampton, wherever that might be, didn’t appeal to her. She felt she was only digging herself deeper in a time-traveling hole.

“Oh, gosh, Stephen. What a generous offer, but the thing is, I’m not going to Southampton. Please don’t ask me to explain. I can’t.” Mattie winced under his look of confusion. What was she thinking? She didn’t even know what she wanted from the man.

“You know what? This was a mistake.” Mattie rose hastily. “I shouldn’t have pulled you into this. That was silly of me. I’ll be fine here.”

Stephen jumped up to join her, and took her hands in his. “Please forgive me
if I have failed you in any way, Miss Crockwell. It is my desire to assist you, but you have not told me what I could do to help.”

“I know. You’ve been great.” Mattie almost hugged him but remembered where she was and pulled back. She gently withdrew her hands. “Because I can’t explain, it makes everything more difficult. I’m just a foolish girl in love with the wrong man at the wrong
time
, and I’m trying to run from it, instead of just survive it. That’s probably the crux of the matter. I need to just buck up and deal with it. This won’t last forever.” She sighed and looked toward the house.

“If there is anything you think I can do to help you, Miss Crockwell, please let me know. Short of inviting you to stay with my aunt, which would be thought unusual and would elicit comment, I do not know how else I could remove you from the house. I understand the pain of unrequited love, Miss Crockwell, though as I mentioned I did not think that was the case between you and William.”

“Have you ever told Louisa how you felt? Asked her if she would consider moving to America with you?”

“No, I have not.” Stephen grimaced as he looked down at the ground. “I did not wish to ask that which might make her unhappy.”

“You’ll never know unless you ask, Stephen,” Mattie said. “I could find out how she feels. I don’t want to worry you, but I think some folks plan for her to marry William.”

Stephen’s head shot up. “Ah! So you have heard. I did not wish to mention it to you and thought perhaps that might be the reason you wished to leave.” He frowned. “I am not at all certain William shares that hope. How could he if he is enamored of you?”

Mattie smiled. “Hmmm. Well, I know she has thought of marrying William, but she didn’t sound too enthusiastic about it either. She seems to be just kind of accepting of the idea. Maybe she’s not in love with him.” Over his shoulder, Mattie saw Jane check the watch pinned to her dress.

“I think Jane is telling me we have to go,” Mattie said. “I appreciate your offer of help, Stephen, but I think the only thing I can do is stick it out for the next three weeks until I leave.” She held up a hand to his inquiring face. “Don’t ask! But in the meantime, you and I could figure out how Louisa feels about you, and if she’d be willing to go with you. This isn’t about separating her from William, because I don’t think she’s that invested in a future with him.” Jane moved toward the front of the garden.

“I’d better go, Stephen. Wait for a few minutes before you follow me into the house.”

Stephen took her hand and bent over it. “Remember, I am always at your service. You have left me with more questions than answers about your origins, Miss Crockwell, but we Americans have always been a mysterious, independent sort, have we not? Good day.”

Mattie followed Jane back to the house through the kitchen, with a wave to Mrs. White on the way. Jane headed off to her duties, and Mattie had just reached the stairs in the foyer with a plan to sprint up the stairs to her room when the front door opened. She turned around expecting to see Stephen, but it was William who entered. He handed his hat and coat to John and raised his eyes to see her. Mattie froze under his gaze, suddenly warm. His face brightened into a loving smile.

“Miss Crockwell, I am so glad to see you are still here.”

****

At the sight of Mattie, the constriction, which had gripped William’s heart ever since he walked away from her the previous day, eased. He simply could not force himself to remain angry with her any longer, and in the absence of anger, he had only sorrow and happiness left to him—sorrow at her choice to leave, and happiness that he had the opportunity to meet her and know love.

He had ridden away in the early morning hours with the express intention of spending the next three weeks at his hunting lodge in York, but he got no farther than the first inn along the road before he realized he could not bear to be separated from Mattie.

He had returned posthaste, fearful that she would refuse to speak to him again. But here she was on the staircase before him, lovely in a pale yellow dress with high color in her cheeks. Did she blush to see him?

“William,” she said with a catch in her breath. “You’re back!” She seemed frozen on the staircase; her hand gripped the banister.

William hoped the emotion clearly apparent in her voice was joy to see him.

“Miss Crockwell, I must speak to you in private,” William said urgently. “I hope you can forgive me—”

He swung around at the sound of the front door opening, surprised to see Stephen Carver opening the door unannounced. John jumped forward to close the door behind Stephen, who stopped short at the sight of William. His eyes traveled toward Mattie on the staircase.