Today's Reading
Moments later, as I walked down the stairs and into the central room of our home, I felt all eyes upon me.
My gaze met Elijah Shepherd's, and my heart filled with dread. He looked me up and down, assessing me with a coolness that was all business. He did not smile or offer any warm welcome but analyzed me as if he were purchasing livestock or seed.
"Caroline," Grandfather said as he lifted a hand to beckon me. "May I present Governor Shepherd and his son, Mister Elijah Shepherd?"
I curtsied as I'd been taught, and the men bowed.
"How do you do?" I asked them, trying to hide the revulsion from my face and voice.
Elijah was at least ten years my senior, and he did not bear the look of a man who worked his own land. He was thick about the middle, and his skin was pale, telling me he spent his days indoors. There was no depth to his gaze, no sign of intelligence or character.
More than anything, I longed for a man with fire in his eyes.
"'Tis a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Reed," Governor Shepherd said. "We've been working through the details of the betrothal, but I believe we've finally arrived at an agreement."
"Indeed we have," Grandfather said with a smile.
I could think of no greater prison or worse fate.
* * *
I left the men to their cigars and brandy the moment I could be excused. It had been an unbearable supper as Elijah stared at me. Grandfather and Governor Shepherd spoke of farming and politics, though neither man included Elijah in the discussion. The longer I sat in his presence, the more I worried Elijah was simpleminded. Was he even capable of inheriting such a large plantation? Or taking a wife?
I didn't want to find out.
My pulse thrummed as I left the room, needing to be free of the confines of my life and the expectations placed upon me. I shivered just thinking about Elijah Shepherd touching me or living with him day after day.
I wanted so much more from this life. Freedom, the opportunity to make my own decisions, and most of all, I wanted to know my mother.
But paramount to all of that was the need to know why I lived two lives.
I felt breathless as I raced up the stairs to my bedchamber, an oil lamp in hand. Tomorrow I would be in 1927 and could have a reprieve from this life—yet I would wake up here the next day, and it would be waiting for me.
I thought of my mother and wondered if Grandfather had tried to force her into a loveless marriage. Was that why she had fled South Carolina at such a tender age?
There had to be an answer—a way out of this nightmare.
I stopped at her bedchamber door, curious to know what Grandfather was hiding from me. Perhaps my mother was still alive and the answer to all the secrets was behind this door.
I didn't think twice but went into Grandfather's bedchamber in search of the keys. My heart pounded so hard, I could hear the beating in my ears.
Finally, I found a key ring and then quickly replaced everything I had dislodged in my search. I returned to my mother's bedchamber door, and with shaking hands, I slipped several keys into the lock until I found the right one.
When it clicked, time felt like it stopped.
Tossing a glance over my shoulder, I slowly turned the knob and then slipped into the dark room, closing the door behind me.
My breath was shallow as I looked around, holding my lamp high. The room was nondescript. A four-poster bed, a bureau, a washstand. I wasn't sure what I was expecting—but nothing so normal or...simple.
Perhaps Grandfather wasn't hiding something.
Disappointment weighed down on me. I had hoped this room would reveal the answers to my questions, but there was nothing. I opened each of the drawers and looked under the bed, but it was all empty. Nothing remained of my mother.
My legs felt heavy, so I walked across the room and sat on the bed, holding the lamp in my hands. I wanted to cry, but I had learned at an early age that it didn't make anything better. I wanted to pray, but I wasn't sure that God would listen. Did He hear the pleas of a marked woman?
The lamp cast a shadow over the wall, and I noticed a slight variation in the wainscoting. Frowning, I set the lamp on the nightstand and moved across the room. When I reached the wall, I ran my hand over the boards and felt a piece shift.
Slowly, I removed the panel and sucked in a breath.
There was a hole behind the wall, and within it was an envelope.
...
