her face. Catharine blinked. What could he possibly have seen in her desperation?
“I’m sorry,” Amy whispered, “but Elizabeth has more to say.”
“Enough!” Catharine said, stare still linked to Bennett’s. “Amy, no more!”
“I’ve no choice.” The misery in Amy’s voice made them both turn her way. “I . . . I don’t know what’s happening any more than you do. I just started hearing words that needed to be said. I know it’s bold of me but, please, could you just listen a little longer?”
Bennett sank to the sofa as if his legs could no longer support his weight. Perplexed, Catharine followed suit.
Amy continued. “Elizabeth understands your disbelief and implores you to give her a chance to prove that it is she who comes to you now. She asks you to remember your wedding day, how the skies cleared of rain just before the ceremony and how the cherry blossoms bloomed outside the church.”
Bennett gasped.
“She gave you a gift that day. Do you remember?”
“Of course!”
“Yes, your pocket watch. You still carry it. The inscription on the back—do you recall what it says?”
“Yes,” he said. “How could I ever forget?” He fumbled with his watch chain for a moment, then drew out a gold watch. Flipping it over in his hand, he fixed Amy with a challenging eye.
She didn’t hesitate. “It says ‘Elizabeth Jane and Bennett William, May 15, 1869.’”
Silently, Bennett Chapman turned the back of the watch toward Catharine so that she could read it. Her eyes absorbed the words.
“Yes,” Bennett said slowly. “How did you . . .”
“Elizabeth says that if you remember the essence of your life together, you will listen to her advice and marry Catharine. She bids you farewell, now. Until next time.”
Bennett Chapman visited frequently after that, mostly to talk to Elizabeth but, after a little more than a week, to begin courting the woman his late wife had directed him to wed. Bewildered, Catharine allowed the courtship to unfold. It was, after all, a brilliant idea. But how had Amy come to it? How did she know the personal details Elizabeth shared visit after visit? And did she even realize how neat a package she was wrapping? But her questions yielded no answers. Either Amy kept her secrets well, or she honestly didn’t know why the thoughts—why Elizabeth Chapman—had suddenly arrived in her head.
C ATHARINE PULLED HER attention back to the dining room and stared at the young woman before her. “Amy. Notwithstanding Mrs. Chapman, the marriage idea is still incredibly good. But thedoor is rapidly closing here, and I don’t wish to get caught in its slam.”
Amy stood, her smile serene. “I understand,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the parlor shortly before nine.”
Catharine watched her go, thoughts buzzing through her head like bees set free from a hive.
CHAPTER
12
A drian glanced at the library clock as he waited for the telephone operator to connect his call. 8:20. Jim would join him in ten minutes, and together they’d make their way to the parlor for the evening’s séance. His fingers drummed against Bennett Chapman’s desk blotter: ten minutes left to steel himself for yet another potential disaster.
“Adrian!” Constance’s voice through the telephone wire was like velvet wrapped around his heart. “I’ve been looking forward to your call all day.”
He sank into the leather chair behind Bennett’s desk. “And you, Constance, are my lifeline. Sometimes it feels as though I’ll never be allowed to leave Newport and come home to you.”
“Oh, but you must.” He caught the teasing note in her voice. “The egg man happened to bring me the most wonderful gift today.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Gift?”
“A thank-you for the almond croissants I gave him last week. I’m afraid he’s quite addicted to them, and between you and me, they do nothing for his figure. Anyway, he’s brought me a bottle of wine—purely for medicinal purposes,
“I’m sorry,” Amy whispered, “but Elizabeth has more to say.”
“Enough!” Catharine said, stare still linked to Bennett’s. “Amy, no more!”
“I’ve no choice.” The misery in Amy’s voice made them both turn her way. “I . . . I don’t know what’s happening any more than you do. I just started hearing words that needed to be said. I know it’s bold of me but, please, could you just listen a little longer?”
Bennett sank to the sofa as if his legs could no longer support his weight. Perplexed, Catharine followed suit.
Amy continued. “Elizabeth understands your disbelief and implores you to give her a chance to prove that it is she who comes to you now. She asks you to remember your wedding day, how the skies cleared of rain just before the ceremony and how the cherry blossoms bloomed outside the church.”
Bennett gasped.
“She gave you a gift that day. Do you remember?”
“Of course!”
“Yes, your pocket watch. You still carry it. The inscription on the back—do you recall what it says?”
“Yes,” he said. “How could I ever forget?” He fumbled with his watch chain for a moment, then drew out a gold watch. Flipping it over in his hand, he fixed Amy with a challenging eye.
She didn’t hesitate. “It says ‘Elizabeth Jane and Bennett William, May 15, 1869.’”
Silently, Bennett Chapman turned the back of the watch toward Catharine so that she could read it. Her eyes absorbed the words.
“Yes,” Bennett said slowly. “How did you . . .”
“Elizabeth says that if you remember the essence of your life together, you will listen to her advice and marry Catharine. She bids you farewell, now. Until next time.”
Bennett Chapman visited frequently after that, mostly to talk to Elizabeth but, after a little more than a week, to begin courting the woman his late wife had directed him to wed. Bewildered, Catharine allowed the courtship to unfold. It was, after all, a brilliant idea. But how had Amy come to it? How did she know the personal details Elizabeth shared visit after visit? And did she even realize how neat a package she was wrapping? But her questions yielded no answers. Either Amy kept her secrets well, or she honestly didn’t know why the thoughts—why Elizabeth Chapman—had suddenly arrived in her head.
C ATHARINE PULLED HER attention back to the dining room and stared at the young woman before her. “Amy. Notwithstanding Mrs. Chapman, the marriage idea is still incredibly good. But thedoor is rapidly closing here, and I don’t wish to get caught in its slam.”
Amy stood, her smile serene. “I understand,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the parlor shortly before nine.”
Catharine watched her go, thoughts buzzing through her head like bees set free from a hive.
CHAPTER
12
A drian glanced at the library clock as he waited for the telephone operator to connect his call. 8:20. Jim would join him in ten minutes, and together they’d make their way to the parlor for the evening’s séance. His fingers drummed against Bennett Chapman’s desk blotter: ten minutes left to steel himself for yet another potential disaster.
“Adrian!” Constance’s voice through the telephone wire was like velvet wrapped around his heart. “I’ve been looking forward to your call all day.”
He sank into the leather chair behind Bennett’s desk. “And you, Constance, are my lifeline. Sometimes it feels as though I’ll never be allowed to leave Newport and come home to you.”
“Oh, but you must.” He caught the teasing note in her voice. “The egg man happened to bring me the most wonderful gift today.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Gift?”
“A thank-you for the almond croissants I gave him last week. I’m afraid he’s quite addicted to them, and between you and me, they do nothing for his figure. Anyway, he’s brought me a bottle of wine—purely for medicinal purposes,
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