Thursday's Child (Out of Time #5) (18 page)

“Well, I know that
now
,” she said with a lovely pout.

Simon sighed and shucked off the rest of his clothes. He pulled on his nightshirt and found Elizabeth fighting a giggle. “What?”

“Your knees are so…adorable.”

Simon scowled and plucked at his long nightshirt. “I hate this thing.”

Elizabeth tried again not to laugh.

“It bunches up when I sleep,” Simon protested as he slid into bed next to her.

Elizabeth lost her battle and a fit of giggles ensued. “I think it's cute.”

“Do you?” he asked as he caressed her neck and jawline.

The giggles disappeared under his touch and he leaned down to kiss her. He deepened the kiss and when he finally pulled away, he was gratified to see her eyes slightly glazed. She smiled up at him dreamily, all thoughts of his knobby knees gone.

Chapter Fifteen

Elizabeth rolled onto her side. She could only make out vague shapes in the darkness of their room and her head was too heavy with sleep to make sense of any of them. A flash of lightning sliced into the room through the small opening at the edge of the thick drapes that hung over the window. She waited for the following clap of thunder, listening to the stillness of the night, but none came. Only the sound of the rain as it pelted against the glass of the window and…something else. She closed her eyes and listened. It was faint, somewhere outside of their room.

Simon's arm had fallen across her waist in his sleep and she lifted it carefully and placed it on top of the covers as she slipped out from beneath it. Simon shifted slightly and she thought she might have awakened him. But his face was still slack with sleep and his breathing slow and deep.

Softly, Elizabeth tiptoed across the creaky wooden floor to the door of their room. She eased it open and stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her. The house was sleeping. The drapes were open at the large window at her end of the landing and the light from the storm flashed down the hall. The paned glass appeared as a stretched checkerboard on the floor with each burst of lightning. Elizabeth stood on the carpet and wrapped her arms around her middle to ward off the night's chill and listened.

She heard the noise again, more clearly now than she had before. It sounded almost like a rocking chair rolling back and forth on a wooden floor. It seemed to be coming from Louisa's room at the far end of the hall.

Elizabeth walked slowly down the hall, her own shadow stretching out in front of her, long and jagged. She tread softly as she passed the Harpers' rooms and neared Louisa's. The door to her room stood ajar and Elizabeth could hear the sound more clearly now.

Elizabeth's heart began to race as she reached out and grasped the door handle. She eased the door open just a touch more and peered inside. The room was dark, but there was enough light for Elizabeth to see a small wooden cradle rocking back and forth of its own accord.

A chill swept over Elizabeth, but she stepped inside. The room was empty, save for Louisa who slept soundly in her bed. Elizabeth checked behind the door, but there was no one there. No man or ghost.

The rocking began to slow, carried only by its own momentum. Elizabeth padded over to check on Louisa. The child slept peacefully, one of her dolls cradled in her arms.

Elizabeth walked over to the cradle. The doll Louisa had called Jammy was inside, tucked in like a baby. Elizabeth reached down and stopped the cradle from rocking. The still silence of night came again. With another glance at Louisa, Elizabeth made her way out of the room. She took care to put the door back exactly as it had been. Satisfied, she turned to head back to her own room.

But at the end of the hall, stood a small silhouette against the large window. Elizabeth barely stifled a gasp. Mary. A flash of lightning came and Elizabeth could see now that the girl was facing away from her, looking out of the window. Something was different though. Mary turned and looked at Elizabeth over her shoulder. That's when Elizabeth realized what it was. Mary was there and yet, a little not there. Her body was almost translucent.

Elizabeth glanced anxiously back at Louisa's room. “Mary,” she whispered as she turned back.

But the girl was gone. Elizabeth hurried to where she'd been standing just seconds before. The stairway was empty, the hall still. Where had she gone?

Elizabeth looked out of the window and saw Mary's small figure run across the lawn. Without thinking, Elizabeth hurried down the stairs after her. Why, she didn't know, but she ran down the hall toward the back of the house. She threw open the back door and walked out onto the veranda and looked into the garden where she and Rose had seen Mary earlier that day.

There was no sign of her now, but Elizabeth could feel her close by and ran out into the rain. She could just make out the white of the girl's gown against the darkness. The little girl stopped her flight and turned back to Elizabeth. They stared at each other, the rain a blurry curtain between them. In that moment, Elizabeth felt her reaching out to her. It was a silent plea, and one Elizabeth could not refuse.

Mary turned then and started to run again. Heedless of the rain or the cold, Elizabeth ran after her. The girl had disappeared into the garden and Elizabeth picked her way through the cold grass and muddy paths.

“Mary?” she called out.

Another burst of lightning illuminated the night. Elizabeth saw a flash of Mary's white gown through the trees and raced after her. Thunder rolled overhead, growing louder and getting closer like an oncoming train.

Elizabeth searched the night for another glimpse of the child. The rain was heavy now and she had to wipe it from her eyes to see. Finally, she saw her again. Mary had stopped running and stood still, waiting for her, standing among the shadows.

Elizabeth hurried toward her. It was only as she neared that she realized that the shadows were not shadows at all, but gravestones. Mary stood among them, silently urging Elizabeth to come to her.

Elizabeth slowed as she neared the girl. “Mary?”

The little girl looked at her and then down at the ground. Elizabeth inched closer. She could feel the child's pain radiating from her in waves. Loneliness, confusion and sadness surrounded her, emanated from her and grew more and more intense the closer Elizabeth got.

The weight of it pressed down on her and Elizabeth fell to her knees in the soggy earth. Mary's despair wrapped around her. Every instinct in her wanted to comfort the child, to take her burden.

Slowly, Elizabeth reached out. “I'm here.”

A great flash of lightning came, so bright and so close, Elizabeth had to shield her eyes. An enormous clap of thunder followed almost immediately. It was so powerful, so loud, Elizabeth could feel its rumble deep inside her.

When she opened her eyes again, Mary was gone. The loss of the connection was a shock. The feelings of anguish lifted, but left Elizabeth feeling lost. Her tears came unbidden and mixed with the rain. She slouched down, suddenly exhausted and the rain poured down upon her.

She didn't know how long she'd stayed that way. Her body ached when she moved again. She stood and read the small ornate headstones that Mary had stood near. The graves of children. Rose's lost children.

“Elizabeth!”

Poor Mary. So lost, so lonely.

“Elizabeth!”

She looked up then and saw Simon hurrying toward her. He'd hastily pulled on his pants and boots, but hadn't taken the time to button his shirt. He held an overcoat over his head as a makeshift umbrella. The panic on his face ebbed when she started toward him.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he pulled her into his arms.

“I'm fine,” she said coming back to herself.

Simon searched her face and then lifted the overcoat to protect them both against the storm.

“You'll freeze to death,” Simon said. The anxiety in his voice was edged with irritation, but she knew it was worry in disguise. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“I'm sorry. I'm all right,” Elizabeth said as she leaned into his side. Her teeth chattered traitorously.

As they emerged from the garden, the tall thin slave named Jacob appeared halfway across the lawn with a large umbrella. “All right, suh? You wants me to get someone?”

He held out the umbrella and Simon took it, giving him the sodden overcoat in exchange. “Thank you, Jacob,” Simon said. “We're fine.”

Jacob didn't seem to believe him, but nodded and followed them back to the house.

Simon asked Jacob not to speak of what he'd seen and the poor man looked relieved to pretend he hadn't seen a crazy woman running in the rain. She and Simon made their way quietly back up to their room. Simon closed the door and lit one of the oil lamps. Even in the dim light she could see his fear and concern.

“It was M-mary,” Elizabeth said, fighting a shivering chill.

Simon nodded and looked around the room. He grabbed a quilt from the back of a chair and tossed it onto the bed.

“She was in Louisa's room,” Elizabeth said, trying to recall what now felt like a dream.

Simon frowned and she hurried to add, “She's all right. I think Mary was playing with one of her dolls.”

“Let's get this off you,” Simon said as he touched the fabric of her sodden nightgown.

Elizabeth nodded and he pulled the cold, sopping wet shift over her head, leaving her naked and feeling a new chill. He grabbed the quilt from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Then she led me outside.”

“You should have woken me,” Simon said sharply. Elizabeth pulled the quilt more tightly about her body.

Simon sighed. “I'm sorry.” He pushed out another breath and closed his eyes for a moment to control his emotions. “I woke and you weren't there, and I feared—”

“It all happened so fast. I was afraid she'd be gone if I came to get you.”

Simon nodded and then grabbed the towel that sat next to the basin and pitcher.

Elizabeth remembered how far she'd chased Mary into the garden and woods. “How did you find me?”

Simon draped the towel over Elizabeth's wet hair and rubbed her head quickly to dry it. “Jacob was downstairs and heard you leave through the back door.”

Simon stopped tousling her hair and urged Elizabeth to sit on the edge of the bed. “She wanted me to follow her,” Elizabeth said.

Simon knelt and rubbed life back into her cold feet with the towel.

“We ended up at the family cemetery. So many children,” she said sadly. “That's where she belongs, Simon. I know it.”

Simon looked up at her and nodded thoughtfully. He took her hands in his and rubbed warmth into them. “Yes, I think I sensed that as well, but couldn't put a name to it.”

“Poor thing,” Elizabeth said, remembering the feeling of sadness, of loss she'd felt in the girl's presence. And then she remembered something else. “She's fading, Simon.”

“What do you mean fading?” He took the quilt off her shoulder and laid it on the bed. Then, he pulled back the covers.

Elizabeth crawled under the sheets. “Remember what Old Nan said? That time wasn't on our side and that the ghosts can't stay here forever, eventually they fade away and are trapped in the world in between? Mary's disappearing, Simon. Slowly, but it's happening.”

Elizabeth pulled the blankets up to her chin and fought down another shiver. Simon nodded and then undressed. Naked, he got in bed and pulled her chilled body against his warmth. He wrapped his arms around her. His hands were large and warm and strong as they caressed her.

“We're running out of time,” Elizabeth said, feeling the current of desperation that Mary had left with her surge anew.

Simon urged her to roll over and rubbed her arm before cupping her cool cheek in his warm palm. “We will help her,” he said, sounding so sure, so confident.

“What if we can't?”

He moved closer, pressing their bodies together and kissed her. “We will,” he said softly as he kissed again. “I promise.”

Elizabeth let her fears and doubts melt away in the warmth of each kiss and the tenderness of each caress until all she felt was him.

~~~

Elizabeth settled into their buggy and prepared herself for the long ride back to town. After breakfast, they'd agreed to return to Natchez to see what they could learn about the body found yesterday. They'd said their goodbyes to the Harpers, promising to see them again at Louisa's birthday party and started their two-hour journey back to their hotel.

Once they'd passed under the wrought iron gate and turned onto the main road, Simon looked back over his shoulder. “That was an interesting morning.”

“Was it?” Elizabeth hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Everyone seemed subdued, but after yesterday it would have been odd if they hadn't. “Breakfast seemed like the usual to me.”

“After breakfast,” Simon said. “I spent the morning thinking about what you'd seen last night with Mary. What that meant. Her being a Harper.”

Elizabeth nodded. She'd thought of little else.

“That means she's either James's child or Eli's,” Simon said.

“Or Rose's.”

“Yes, or some combination.” Simon leaned forward as he spoke. “If you're correct, and I think you are, about James and Rose's marriage not being the happiest, it's possible James had a child with another woman. Alice Stewart.”

Elizabeth had considered that. “He seems so in love with Rose though.”

“I've known several men whose love, even adoration, for their wives didn't preclude them from having affairs.”

Maybe she was naïve on that score, but Elizabeth just couldn't see James cheating on Rose. “I have a hard time seeing either of them having an affair. Happy or not.”

“Possibly,” Simon said. “Which brings us to Elijah.” He cast a wary glance at Elizabeth. “Putting aside my personal prejudice against the man, he is the most likely candidate to have fathered a child the family didn't or wouldn't claim. He is, after all, familiar with at least one of the local brothels.”

“So are you,” Elizabeth pointed out.

Simon made a sour face. “Don't let your prejudice
for
the man color your thinking, Elizabeth. It's a logical assumption that he might have been with Alice Stewart and Mary is his child.”