Race to World's End (Rowan and Ella Book 3) (18 page)

17

The
Florida Straits 1825

When she awoke, Ella
was on the bed, the light fading outside her window. Adele sat in a chair by
the bed watching her.

“You scared us,
Miss Pierce,” she said quietly.

Ella had hoped it
was all a terrible dream. She closed her eyes again as if she could make it so.
She opened them again.

“The Judge thinks
it will help if you eat something.” Adele indicated a china dish on the
bedcovers with a sandwich that had been cut into fourths. “I do, too.”

Ella sat up in
the bed. The sandwich was made with homemade bread and seemed to have some kind
of fried fish filling. Until she picked it up, she hadn’t realized how hungry
she was. She took a bite.

How is this possible? How can I be in 1825? Do people really
fall through time? If so, how come I haven’t read about it before?

“Daisy is
bringing another pot of tea,” Adele said.

Wonder if I could ask her to pop some ice cubes in it,
instead
.

“I have to say,
Miss Pierce, I’m so glad you’re here. It will be like having a sister. I can’t
wait to go shopping with you and show you the island. When you’re stronger, of
course.”

“So…I am to just
live here with you and your father?” Ella looked around the room as if trying
to imagine her new life here.

“And Lawrence, of
course,” Adele said, her smile creating dimples in her fair complexion. “Until
the wedding, that is. Papa will help Lawrence find a little house for the two
of you after that.”

“When is the
wedding?”

Adele laughed.
“Oh, my goodness, Miss Pierce! I cannot imagine a bride-to-be forgetting her
wedding date! Lawrence hasn’t mentioned to me when you are to be married. But
he’s already asked Papa to have the ceremony here at Morton House. You and I
will have such fun planning it! Our gardens are the envy of Thompson Island.”

A sharp rap on
the door was followed by the door opening before Adele could say
come in
. The woman who stood in the
doorway was about Ella’s age. She wore the costume of a lady’s maid and her
hair was tied back severely into a slick black bun at the nape of her neck. She
looked to be of Cuban descent.

“Yes, Daisy, just
put the tray down on the dresser,” Adele said.

“Excuse me, Miss,
but Lord Bingham is asking if…our guest will be dining with us tonight.”

 
“No, Daisy. Please tell Cook it will just
be Lord Bingham, His Honor and myself
 
tonight. Miss Pierce will eat in her room.”

“Very good,
Miss,” Daisy said. Ella couldn’t help but notice a coldness about the woman
that radiated out from the doorway in which she stood.
Either she just got some really bad news, or she’s a major malcontent
,
Ella thought as the woman curtsied and left the room.

“Daisy’s very
conscientious,” Adele said, turning back to Ella. “Between the two of us, I
think we’ll take very good care of you.”

“So Lawrence is
an earl or a duke or something?” Ella popped the last bite of the sandwich in
her mouth and began pressing the crumbs from the plate onto her finger to lick
them clean. She noticed Adele watching her in fascination as she did and
immediately stopped. Adele handed her a cloth napkin.

 
“Yes, indeed, Miss Pierce. You are
engaged to a duke. That will make you a duchess, you know.” The girl hopped up
and went to a tall bureau in the room, where she pulled out a long nightgown of
thin damask. “I think you have everything you need for tonight. Anything you
don’t have, Daisy will be by before you retire to get for you. Tomorrow, we
shop!”

The feeling in
the pit of Ella’s stomach threatened to reject the sandwich she’d just eaten. A
light film of sweat popped out on her forehead and she pulled back the covers
in hopes that it would help.

“Are you alright,
Miss Pierce?”

“I…can you tell
me where the bathroom is?”

When Adele
frowned in confusion, the feeling in Ella’s stomach kicked into high gear. She
felt the perspiration begin to creep down the back of her neck.

“Where I can…relieve
myself?”

“Oh! Of course,”
Adele said. She walked to a screen in the corner of the room and pulled out a
large ceramic chamber pot.

Oh dear God, you have got to be kidding me.

“It’s just for
now, Miss Pierce, while you’re getting your strength back,” Adele said,
depositing the pot on the floor. “We have a thoroughly modern privy in the
garden not ten steps from the house and I’ll show that to you tomorrow.”

As in a thoroughly modern hole in the ground with a
splintery board thrown over the top?

“Okay, thanks,”
Ella said weakly, falling back into bed, suddenly cold.

Adele came back
to the bed and put a cool hand on Ella’s damp forehead and then turned and
folded up a linen towel to blot the moisture from Ella’s face. “I’m just so
glad you’re here,” Adele said. “You’ll see. It will be wonderful.” She gave
Ella’s shoulder a light squeeze before turning and exiting the room.

Ella stared at
the closed door, the scent of flowers and cinnamon still hung in the room after
the girl was gone.

Please God, make this be a joke and I swear if it is I’ll
take it with good grace and laugh with the best of them. Please don’t let me
really be living two hundred years before everyone I know is born.

***

That first night
had been an uninterrupted spate of sleep that felt as close to a coma as Ella
could imagine. She slept deeply, without dreaming, to awaken, still in 1825. In
the morning, the maid, Daisy, came into her room to jerk open the shutters and
let the morning’s sun invade the room, to whisk away the chamber pot—Ella
still cringed at the thought of it—and inform Ella that breakfast was
being served downstairs.

Ella tried to
imagine, if she ever got the chance to tell someone from her own time what Key
West was like in 1825, how she could ever describe it without mentioning the
harsh smell of rotting fish, the burning, pounding sun that never quit and the
ever-present, single-minded assault of the ubiquitous clouds of mosquitoes.

What an
amazing—nearly unbelievable—transformation to the ultimate tourist
destination Key West would someday become, she thought numbly as she sat in the
open-air carriage outside Adele’s house. Even the mode of transportation was
foul-smelling, she thought with a grimace as one of the pair of Friesian chargers
deposited a solid wet mass of excrement onto the hard-packed dirt street in
front of the Morton House.

Main Street, soon
to become Whitehead Street, as Adele said at breakfast, appeared to be the main
drag in 1825 Key West. At this stage it was only a barren avenue lined by four
or five clapboard houses. As Ella looked at them—simple, handcrafted
houses that looked part Bahamian, part New England—she couldn’t help but call
to mind the hurricane that would wipe them all out in 1839.

Can it be? Can it really be that I’m here?

She tried again to
think of the last thing she could remember before she awoke on the streets of 1825
Key West, but all she could bring to mind was an image of her father and
stepmother waving goodbye to her as she got onto an airplane.
Where was I going? Was that years ago or
last month?

“Papa said it’s
probably best not to think too much,” Adele said, breaking into Ella’s
thoughts. Ella turned to her. She looked as fresh as springtime in muslin and
lace. Her waist was small and the girl accentuated that with a thin belt of
white leather cinched tight.

She had dressed
her hair and tucked it efficiently up into a large bonnet, but the lack of hair
framing her face played up her pretty features to her benefit. Adele had a
large and full mouth. She was clearly used to filling in the role of hostess
for her father. Ella detected a strong vein of competency and strength under
the girlish affectations and manners.

“I know,” Ella
said. “I can’t help it. Until I can remember more of how I came to be here…”

Adele nodded
sympathetically. She had lent Ella a dress that belonged to her mother, and
although Adele bemoaned the fact it was tragically out of date for today’s
fashions, Ella couldn’t tell the difference.

“Just try not to
worry about it,” Adele said, shading her eyes to see past the glare of the
midday sun as it brutalized all in its path. Ella assumed she was looking for
Lawrence, who was giving their driver directions.

“Do I have any
money?” Ella blurted.

Adele frowned and
looked around as if Ella had said something obscene. She answered in a whisper.
“Do you mean a dowry?”

“I mean, how will
I pay for…anything I see today in the shops?”

Instantly,
Adele’s face cleared. “Oh! Lawrence handles your money.”

“Even though
we’re not married?”

“That’s right.”

“And he…do I have
to ask him for it?”

“Well, of course.
If he believes it to be a foolish purchase, he won’t allow it. He is going to
be your husband, Ella. He is protecting you.”

“I see.”

“But he won’t
deny you anything today, I can assure you. And if he does, you do know how to
stick that bottom lip out to get what you want, don’t you? I do it with Papa
all the time and plan on managing my own husband the same way.”

“You…pout?”

Adele shrugged
and twisted the blonde curls peeking out from her bonnet. “Or you could try
kisses. I’m sure Lawrence would deny you nothing if you were to sit on his lap
and beg him sweetly.”

Oh, Jesus.

Lawrence appeared
and quickly jumped into the carriage with them. “Ready, ladies?” he said
breathlessly. Ella tried to imagine kissing him and felt a sensation in the pit
of her stomach that suggested she’d eaten a bad oyster.

The journey into
town could have gone faster, Ella noted, if they’d all just walked. In fact, it
occurred to her that Lawrence was using the outing as an opportunity to show
Ella her new home. As they rode the island’s perimeter, Ella tried to hold the
picture in her mind of the Key West she knew from her last visit in 2004 against
the one she was seeing now. As the horses carried them through the dusty island
lanes and streets, the sounds of their hooves in a staccato rhythm that seemed to
echo tribal drumbeats, Ella found herself more bewildered, not less.

The few homes
that dotted the streets looked like they could have been lifted directly from
New England. They were, Ella noted, in general, well-proportioned houses featuring
double hung sash windows, wide porch columns, and widow’s walks. Some homes
showcased the small balconies that spoke of a Bahamas influence. She was
reminded by both Lawrence and Adele that Thompson’s Island had no natural water
source, so she wasn’t surprised to see gutters styled to funnel rainwater through
downspouts into cisterns on many homes.

Whether it was
Hemingway’s house in 1935 or Judge Morton’s 1820 residence on Main street, Ella
noted that the famous Key West louvered shutters were everywhere, filtering out
the aggressive sun and heat while permitting the few wisps of summer breeze to
circulate through.
Backed up with central
air,
she thought, fanning herself with her hand,
shutters were romantic and quaint. In 1825, they’re like a flea trying
to take down an elephant. Grossly ineffective.

She watched
Lawrence throughout the ride. Not unattractive really, but she wouldn’t have
said he was her type. She usually liked an athletic build and preferably tall.
While Lawrence was easily six foot, he was slim and she noticed he crossed his
ankles when he sat which she had never seen a man do before.

Perhaps it’s an 1800s thing?

He was extremely
solicitous, and if it weren’t for the fact Ella was starving for information
and details, might possibly have even been borderline obnoxious.

“You see the
gates just there, my dear?” he said pointing out the metal Presidential Gates
that led to the Naval Station. “Built a scant two years ago in 1823 when Porter
first came to the island.” He leaned over from where he sat across from her in
the carriage and Ella fought the impulse to lean away from him.

“You need not
worry a tick about your safety from marauding bandits on the high seas now that
Commodore Porter is here,” he said. “Isn’t that right, Adele?”

Adele’s head
bobbed an affirmative. Ella thought she looked tired this morning. Her
ebullient affect from the day before seemed to be missing, or at least a shadow
of what it was. She wondered if there was something bothering her.

“He has
established his West India Anti-Piracy Squadron, or Mosquito Fleet, as his men
call it. Damn amusing that. And he’s vowed to wipe out piracy in the West
Indies, particularly the Florida Straits, in a matter of months.”