Despite the fact that he seemed genuinely glad to be heading for home, he was also avoiding any serious conversation. Not that she blamed him. What could they say? Last night had been brutal and emotionally exhausting. She didn't want to think about it, much less discuss it. And getting William into the carriage had been a nightmare. Although stronger from feeding on the cat, he was also more aware of his surroundings and terrified that Edward might be taking him back to the ship. Eleisha's coaxing and comforting did little to help. In the end, Edward lost his patience, slapped William hard enough to daze him, and then carried him outside like a sack of potatoes past the openmouthed desk clerk.
All in all, it hadn't been an easy night. Edward's empty chatter soothed Eleisha while she rocked William back and forth, assuring him there was no ship in sight.
She felt surprisingly safe beginning a new journey so soon after finishing the last one. But her trust in Edward was profound. He may not have been an overwhelming force like Julian, but he was strong and careful, no matter how frivolous he might pretend to be.
"Do you live in a house?" she asked.
"No, a hotel suite. You'll like it." He glanced over at William. "Can you put him to sleep?"
"Maybe. Why?"
"Because we'll have to cross W-A-T-E-R in a short while, and he's going to throw a fit."
"Can't you go another way?"
"No. Haven't I shown you a map of New York yet? We're on Long Island. Southampton's cut off by a small bit of the Peconic Bay. Just a sliver, but we need to take a ferry."
"How much farther?"
"About ten miles."
She hated to talk in front of William as if he weren't there, but Edward made sense. She continued rocking the old lord until he drifted off. Ten miles later, the carriage moved right up onto the ferry without stopping. William slept through the entire process.
"Capital," Edward sighed when they had safely crossed. "I was afraid I'd have to hit him again."
"You need to be more patient."
"If I'd resorted to patience, we'd still be sitting in the hotel."
His tone waxed humorous, though, good-natured. She smiled up at him, pretending they were a brother and sister escorting their grandfather on holiday, playing Edward's foppish game and forgetting reality if only for a little while.
Here, Wade became aware of himself briefly as the clear images of Eleisha's story switched to flashes and impressions rapidly shifting past him like the pages of a book.
Yet he still felt what she had once experienced.
Upon arriving at Edward's "home," she was delighted with his lavish hotel suite, and the new world that he showed her. But no longer a servant, she'd had trouble at first adjusting to the hotel staff waiting upon her, laundering her clothes, lighting the fire, cleaning the rooms… changing her bedding.
Images raced by as time flowed on.
The next seventy years passed in a flash of scenes. Edward moved his little family to a new hotel suite about once a year, and Eleisha was glad to let him handle their living arrangements, their money, ordering their clothes… their entire existence. She always hunted with Edward. Otherwise, her only concern was to care for William, and she was content to let Edward take care of everything else.
Still half lost in her mind, Wade could not truly pinpoint when the change began.
But one night, she wanted to order a gown to her own taste-something simple. Then sometime later, she wondered why she did not have her own bank accounts for the money Julian sent.
She said nothing of this to Edward.
But their world was changing.
She started hunting alone.
The scene crystallized again, and Wade forgot himself.
Eleisha ripped the bastard's throat out and watched him fall back with a soundless scream. Pig. A nearly black Manhattan alley hid his flailing arms from the outside world, not that anyone cared. With one hand, she pulled up the torn shoulder of her red taffeta dress, and with the other, grasped the back of his head.
This time the blood tasted good through her teeth, over her tongue, dripping in warm rivulets down her bare shoulder. She saw pictures of rape and whiskey, a red-haired girl being beaten, the hanging of an Irish steelworker, no beauty, no music.
She finished feeding and dropped him, feeling less remorse than usual.
Wiping her face carefully, she slipped back out onto the street. A white-bearded gentleman in his early fifties stopped at the sight of her torn but expensive gown.
"Are you hurt, my dear?"
Human nature still escaped her. This man possessed kind eyes, his concern genuine. But had her face been painted and her dress cheap dyed cotton, he wouldn't have stopped to nudge her dead body. She didn't really want his gallant services, but walking around with ripped clothing would attract attention.
"No, sir. Thank you. I walked past an exposed nail." She glanced about in pretended distress. "Could you please hail me a cab?"
Pleased to be of assistance, he stepped toward the street, found her appropriate transportation, and lifted her inside the cab as though she were a kitten.
"You are most kind, sir."
"Not at all," he said, bowing slightly like a knight standing over a slain dragon.
The cabbie pulled out and followed her directions to Bridge Street, to Edward's hotel suite. She'd never stopped viewing any of their various residences as Edward's.
Apparently the aging Sir Galahad must have paid for her trip, because once she stepped down, the cabbie pulled away without a word.
Eleisha turned and headed up the stairs of the Green Gem Hotel to find Edward sitting on a velvet couch reading the newspaper.
"Hello, angel," he said over a cup of tea.
She smiled absently, noticing how comfortable he always appeared inside a lavish hotel suite they would simply abandon in another few months. Didn't he ever wish to stay in one place and make it a home?
William tottered out of his bedroom, messy silver hair hanging in his face. "Eleisha," he said, smiling in a moment of coherence. "Time for supper?"
He and Edward had begun avoiding each other of late. Instead of becoming accustomed to William's condition, Edward was growing more repulsed with each passing year. This bothered Eleisha.
"Yes, time for supper," she said. "Just let me change, and I'll get you a rabbit."
She'd arranged for a local butcher shop to bring in live rabbits-for a substantial fee. Money meant nothing. From what she understood, Julian sent them enough money to support ten people in style. Edward believed he was doing her a service by managing their finances. He supplied her with spending money, and he always told her, "You only have to ask."
But for some reason, lately, she didn't like having to ask.
"Why are you changing clothes?" Edward lowered his paper and looked up over the top of his teacup. He was especially dashing tonight in a brown silk waistcoat.
"A thief on the pier tried to rob me," she answered.
"Is he still with us?"
"No."
"Good girl."
He could still make her smile.
Two years later, Eleisha stood staring out yet another hotel window.
She didn't hear him approach, but wasn't surprised when Edward peered over her shoulder.
"See anything you like?" he asked.
She didn't answer.
"Shall we go to Delmonico's?" he asked in a bright but forced tone. "Have something upscale for supper?"
She tilted her head back to look up at him. His green eyes were sad.
Neither he nor she seemed able to speak of anything beyond the moment. They rarely hunted together anymore-or rather she rarely wished to hunt with him.
"Of course," she said, feeling guilty. "I'll get my cloak."
He nodded in relief, but his eyes were still sad.