Wishes & Tears (22 page)

“About the other day in the library,” he began. “It wasn’t my intention to be so forward. I know it wasn’t proper behavior befitting a gentleman. I allowed emotion to overrule my common sense.” He gazed at her, eyes hooded in sincerity and apology.

She didn’t need an apology. She needed to be hugged and kissed again. She needed to touch him, to smell him, to taste him.

“Andrew doesn’t know it but I deserved his wrath.” He wrung his hands. “It wasn’t my desire to cause you harm and I assure you, it shall not happen again.”

Her face went blank. She was all geared up for a profession of love and desire, not a cool apology for an act as old as the ages.

“If we are to court, Miss Donahue, my intention is to be a gentleman.”

She half expected him to rise and bow. A gentleman? She wanted a hot-blooded male.

She stared at him, irritation evident in her glaring eyes and pursed lips. “Doctor Forrester, you must understand that I’m not a woman of 1906 but a woman of 2006. The rules of courtship and dating are very different. What you would consider improper is acceptable in the world where I come from,” she tried to explain without being blunt.

He swallowed hard. “Our differences are vast, are they not? Even in courtship?”

“Things aren’t that different. Emotion, feelings are the same and I’m sure expressing them is the same, just on a different level. What we did in the library is not an immoral act.”

His brows shot up. “Does that mean that in your world men and women are free to take liberties with anyone they please, anywhere, and anytime without apology?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He stood, ringing his hands. “I imagine that you have allowed yourself to be mauled and kissed by many a man, have you not?”

“No. I haven’t. The only man who touched me was my husband and we’re divorced,” she admitted.

“You are divorced? That explains the wedding ring. I should have known, Missus Donahue.” He began to pace like a trapped lion.

“Doctor, you were married. Your wife died. My ex-husband is good as dead in my eyes. He lives in the future, for Christ’s sake. If you must know, he dumped me for a younger woman who had his babies.” She stood to confront him. How dare he be so upset about her past marital status? “Neither of us is married now. The past shouldn’t matter.”

“It does concern me.”

“Then, doctor, may I suggest that you find another virginal bimbo like Miss LaDue to court in the prim and proper manner to which you are accustomed.” She grabbed her skirt, turned, and stomped toward the house.

He trailed after her. “I don’t love Miss LaDue. I love you!”

Faith froze in her tracks. Did he say that he loved her?

He reached out to grasp her. He swung her around to face him. “I love you,” he repeated, looking deeply into her eyes.

“Me?”

“Yes. Ever since you entered my life, I’ve been drawn to you like a bee to a flower. You’re not like the prim and proper ladies I am accustomed to. You are a lively free spirit with your own ideas and ways. You are an independent thinker and a challenge to be around. You stimulate the mind as well as the body. In the library, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I love you. I love everything about you, even the flesh-toned hose, that ugly thing you call a backpack, even those greasy cheeseburgers. I don’t care if you came from the future or the moon. I still love you.” In telling her, he felt a sense of relief he hadn’t had all day.

“I might just faint.”

“Don’t become prim and proper, Faith.” He wrapped his hands around her waist and drew her near until she was crushed against his chest and forced to look up into his intense eyes.

She reached up to encircle his neck with her arms. This couldn’t be happening. She gazed into his eyes that glittered like the stars overhead. She was fulfilling her destiny.

“Do you love him?” Clarice asked, ebony eyes piercing.

“What a silly question,” Faith answered, flinging her hair over her shoulder with a nonchalant flick of her wrist.

“The answer is the most important in your life. Do you love him? Do you really love him? Not, do you love the fact that he’s helping you escape from memories of Brad? Not, do you love him because he can father your dream child? Do you love him for the man he is and the man he will become? Do you love Doctor Ian Forrester?

“Yes! Yes!” Faith answered, startling herself awake from a deep slumber and an all-too-vivid dream. “Clarice, I do love him. I really love him.”

• • •

Her words hung in the cold, midnight air. She was surprised at her admission and proclamation of love. How readily the words flowed from her lips. Touching a forefinger to her lips, she closed her eyes and lay back into the down filled pillow. There had been so few people she loved in her life. She loved her mother and father for the integral roles they played in creating and molding her. She loved Clarice for always being there through good and bad. Brad was the first man she had ever loved, her first romantic love encounter. The love of parents never dies. True friendship never ceases. But romantic love can wither, if not tended. The love she had for Brad died like a rose bush in a drought. When he stopped loving her he killed it.

Romantic love, she realized, wasn’t a one-shot deal. There were different levels of romantic love and love itself could be rekindled. Doctor Ian Forrester had ignited the tinder in her heart causing sparks to ignite and a new flame to burn within her.

“I love you,” he had repeated over and over between lavish kisses in the moonlit garden. He had planted the new seed of love within her heart and soul.

As she lay in the downy warmth of her lumpy mattress, she knew that she loved Ian Forrester. She loved him in that gut-wrenching, spine-tingling deep romantic way. He was a multifaceted man of intellect and intensity, of sophisticated charm and deep emotion. He was a good person, a loving and patient father, a gentle lover. When together, sparks ignited. A woman could search a lifetime for such a relationship or go back nearly a century to find the man of her dreams. Modern convenience, technology, medical advances, progress was well and good. Without love, though, all of the inventions, discoveries, and material possessions were meaningless and worthless. Without love, one had nothing. Love is everything.

Faith felt the tears drizzle down her cheeks. Love.

“I do love him, Clarice,” Faith mumbled. “I found my one true love.”

• • •

At breakfast, Bridget noticed a change that was occurring in the Forrester household. Welcome change. She could feel it deep down in her bones and sense it within her heart and soul.

Miss Donahue sat erect and still in her seat. Her face wore the most serene and contended expression. Her eyes sparkled and her complexion had taken on an almost translucent quality.

With one glance at the doctor, seated next to the governess, Bridget knew the reason. The doctor’s glistening eyes were transfixed on Faith. Though both were unusually silent, a secret conversation was exchanged with their eyes.

As Bridget leaned down to pour Faith’s tea, she wanted to whisper, “I told you so.” Instead, she smiled and winked. She could have sworn Faith blushed.

Andrew wriggled in his seat, sloshing his spoon in his bowl of porridge. It was clear that he was bored with the silence.

While pouring the doctor’s tea, Bridget commented, “The fog’s lifted and the sun’s brightening up. Bright and beautiful summer morn.”

“The most beautiful day of my life,” the doctor replied with a dimpled grin.

“Is it now?” Bridget smirked. The doctor kept his eyes glued on Faith as she sipped her tea.

He took a sip of his own tea then set down the cup with a rattle. “I have some news, Bridget, Andrew.”

Bridget froze in place and Andrew looked up from his bowl.

Doctor Forrester reached over and clasped Faith’s hand in his. “Miss Donahue has accepted my marriage proposal.”

“Oh, my,” Bridget said, acting surprised, though she wasn’t. “Good news. Good news, indeed.”

She smiled at Faith whose eyes twinkled as she winked and cast a knowing smile her way.

“Is Miss Donahue to be my new mommy?” Andrew asked, leaning over the table.

“Yes.”

“Yippee!” Andrew jumped up and down like a jack-in-the-box.

Faith smiled as if it was the happiest moment of her life.

“I love all of you so very much,” Faith said, holding back tears of joy.

With wishes came tears. Wishes could come true.

• • •

After breakfast, Faith supervised Andrew as he played in the back garden. He had become enamored with the Frisbee she had brought him. She had taught him how to fling and retrieve the mysterious flying disc. It provided the boy with entertainment while expelling some of his pent-up energy.

“How many more objects have you in that bag of tricks?” Doctor Forrester asked, hands in his plaid trousers as he sauntered into the garden.

“My backpack’s about empty,” Faith replied. The best thing she had done was return with the stuffed backpack.

“I certainly hope it isn’t your desire to go back for more.”

“I can assure you I have no intentions of going back.”

“What would we do without you if you did?”

He came up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, kneading them with his slender fingers.

“Um, that feels great.” He could easily put a masseur to shame, she thought.

He whispered, “You have no idea what great is yet.”

“I can’t wait.” She never thought that a man from the turn of the century could be so sexy.

He nuzzled his face against her neck, nibbled at her ear, and planted kisses on her neck and cheek.

“What will the neighbors say?” she teased.

“That Doctor Forrester is having an illicit love affair with his son’s governess.”

“Scandalous,” she mumbled. His hot kisses were making her flush and tingly.

“More scandalous than the corruption in city hall. Scandalous as in Doctor Forrester marrying his son’s governess.”

Faith drew away from him, stepping forward and turning to face him. His words and the way he said them gave her pause.

“Faith, have I said or done something to cause you harm?”

“Doctor,” she began.

“Ian, please,” he corrected, noting how her expression turned from contentment to contentious and wondering why.

She stepped back, lowering her gaze. Being from another century, the social implications of their marriage hadn’t dawned on her. Until now. “Ian, I didn’t consider the inappropriateness of our relationship and its social ramifications until now. I keep forgetting my time and place. In 2006, a person could marry whomever he pleased without regard to religion, race, income, or station in life. I keep forgetting that in 2006, I was a well-respected educator. Here, I am a governess, considered little more than a servant. My intention isn’t to create a scandal.”

He stepped forward. “I am marrying the woman I love.”

“Well and good. Where does that leave me?”

He chuckled. “Dear Faith, I was jesting. In the old San Francisco, I would have been chastised and ostracized for marrying my son’s governess. For me it is of little concern. Alas, the fire and earthquake have brought some humility to the city. People have far more to worry about than the local doctor.” He reached out to her. “Besides, a little scandal doesn’t bother me.”

“What am I to do with you?” She shook her head.

“Love me. Just love me.” He pulled her into his arms. With one hand against the small of her back and the other around her waist, he pressed her body, molding it against his. They were like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, the perfect fit.

As his lips met hers, she was consumed by his taste, spicy scent, and intimate touch. Through her heavy skirt, she could feel the length of his manhood pressing against her thigh. She wriggled, wanting him between her thighs, wanting his maleness to perform just as his tongue were prying and exploring in her mouth.

Panting, Doctor Forrester drew back, distancing himself from her body. “Oh, Faith. If we continue, I fear I shall take you right here in the grass. Now, that would be scandalous.”

“Ian, take me anywhere. Just take me.” She wanted him, all of him, so badly she could scream.

He put his forefinger up to her lips to silence them. “Shh, at the right time, in the proper place. You deserve more from me than a quick romp in the grass.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

“And I love you. We have a lifetime together.” After taking a deep breath, he said, “I must go on my rounds.”

“Where are you off to first?” she asked, trying to regain her composure.

“I must visit Mrs. Jamison.”

“The ornery old lady with the scared, elderly maid?” Faith asked, remembering how they had shared tea with the headstrong dowager.

“One and the same. Daisy died a few weeks ago.”

“I wasn’t aware. I’m sorry.”

“Mrs. Jamison isn’t faring well either, I’m afraid. It seems that her imaginary maladies are becoming all too real. Her body is old and worn. After a while, even the spirit can’t keep it alive.” He sighed.

Faith thought of own future. She was going to live until age seventy-five. Seventy-five. She would die shortly after the doctor. Would her spirit die with him? She shivered at the thought, rubbing her arms with her hands.

“Faith?” he asked.

“Oh, please send Mrs. Jamison my regards.”

“I shall.” He turned to leave and glanced back. “And Faith, I meant it about sharing a lifetime together.”

• • •

Doctor Forrester didn’t make it home in time for dinner. By the time his motorcar parked in front, the house was dark. Only the dim gas lamp in the foyer was lit. Andrew was already tucked snugly in his bed. Bridget had gone up to her room for the night. Faith sat awake in her attic room, reading by candlelight. She chastised herself for being like a wife, waiting up with worry over her husband. When she heard the doctor’s car sputter to a park, she rushed to the window. She peered out as a weary Ian Forrester slipped out of his vehicle and stumbled up the brick walk.

Donning her flannel robe and slippers, she tiptoed out of her room and down the stairs, using her candle in the brass candlestick for illumination. As the front door opened, she stood on the stairs looking down at the foyer.