“Mm. I am glad. Life would be boring without you.” She accepts my arm when I offer. She’s doin’ a bang-up job of holdin’ on with one hand and balancin’ the flowers with the other. “Sometimes being with you, Nate, seems too perfect.” Mercy’s face clouds as we stroll. “I wonder if it will last. Perfection rarely does.”
“And when was the last time ya saw perfection?” I try to keep my voice light.
“Whenever I am with you.” Her hand tightens on my arm as if to make sure I’m real. Say what you will about social classes, but I see the real Mercy, and that, I am sure, is more important to her than any fancy party or frilly dress.
“I am far from perfect.”
“Oh, don’t be silly.” Mercy laughs—the sound as perfect as music. “I know no one is perfect, but this time with you feels like perfection, Nate. You do not care about society or what color my latest ball gown is. You do not care for news of the stock market or what the coal industry is up to. I like that, Nate. You are uncomplicated. I enjoy the simplicity. You make my life feel simple when we are together.”
“You know I want little in this wide world, Mercy, besides your happiness,” I confess. “The only other thing I want is the one thing you keep denyin’ me. I wish ya’d agree to marry me. Just one little yes, Mercy. Is it so very hard to say yes?”
She purses her lips in the way I know means I done spoiled a promisin’ afternoon. “You know it is not as simple as just saying yes, Nate,” she reminds me. “I wish it was. I wish Papa allowed me to choose for myself. There is nothing I would love more than an uncomplicated life, but the second I walk through those hotel doors, my life is not my own. There are society’s rules and consequences to consider and James and Papa’s opinions, not to mention—”
“James Piper is a cowardly, stuff-shirt peacock hidin’ behind his money an’ manners and doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you, Mercy, let alone have your loyalty!”
She turns her head, and her face shows shock and disappointment at my outburst. “Like it or not, Nate, James is who Papa wishes me to marry. I cannot go against that any more than you can go against your station in life. Please do not make me regret coming to meet you this afternoon. Please, can we just go back to before when all we needed to worry about was the sun shining and your arm on mine?”
“We already know your father’s wishes and your wishes are at odds, Mercy.” I’m unwilling and unable to let the subject go. “When are ya gonna stand up for yourself and do what makes you happy instead of what ev’ryone expects?”
“I don’t know if I can, Nate.” Mercy’s face has gone as white as the hotel sheets. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was about to faint clean away. “It is too trying. Please, don’t ask me again.”
“So, you’re tellin’ me, you’re willin’ to give up what we have—what we mean to each other—just to stay off the front page of the society gossip rags?”
“If I have to.” She bites her bottom lip. “Are you through with this line of questioning, Nate? If so, I should return before Papa and James worry.”
“If you are willin’ to give up everything we have just to stay out of the papers, then maybe what we have here is not as special as I thought. You’re so concerned with what James and your pa and society think of you, you can’t see how much your choice is killin’ me. I’m dying, Mercy.”
“Don’t lie,” she whispers. “You won’t die without me, Nate. No one should have that sort of power over you.”
I tap my chest with a fist. “If you feel even half for me of what I feel for you, your heart would be breakin’ right now too. Are you so cold, so careless of others’ emotions, that you’d walk away instead of facing what sort of havoc your choices cause others? We could have a good life, Mercy. Poor, yes, but good none the less. Tell me, what’s so wrong with that?”
“Nothing’s wrong with that. It’s just not what I’m meant for, Nate.” She dips her head to hide her face behind a curtain of blonde curls. “I’m sorry. I wish there were more than one choice for me, but there’s not. There’s only one, and it’s not with you.”
I pull my arm away and leave her without so much as a backward glance. I hear her cryin’, which shatters my heart even more, but I can’t look back. I can’t. If I do, I’ll just keep playin’ this game. She’s made her choice. It’s him and society. Not me. I realize now it was never going to be me. I can’t keep hangin’ around trying to change her mind. It’s already been made.
Haunting, Present Day
Meredith
“Intense,” Nathan says once he’s back again in the present. He sits up straight and turns to find me. “Do you think she changed her mind? Do you think they ran off together like Nate wanted?”
I shrug, never feeling more helpless. “I wish I knew.”
“Perhaps you’ll find out today.” Catalina motions for me to take my place on the recliner.
With a heavy heart, I trade places with Nathan.
Haunting, 1888
Mercy Stone
Despite any faults he may have, James always has been—and always will be—an excellent dancer. He makes me feel safe, relaxed, and secure on the dance floor as he leads us about in a waltz. He is always confident but never demanding. I wish he took some of his charms on the dance floor into his everyday existence. I am apt to agree to just about anything after a waltz, which James fully knows.
“May I have a word with you in private, Mercy?” he requests once the music stops and the polite applause has died.
“Naturally, James.” I follow him through the concealed door to the veranda off the grand ballroom. The hyacinth is in bloom, lending its sweet scent to the air. What I would not give for just a quiet moment to enjoy the fresh air and flowers, but James is not known for admiring nature. From experience, when James says he wishes a word, he will do quite a bit of talking. I will not enjoy a quiet evening on the veranda tonight.
“Let me start off by saying you know I have admired you for quite some time, Mercy,” James begins without preamble. He does not even comment on my appearance or the loveliness of the night, which is his usual standard opening when requesting a word in private. “Even when you were in pigtails and short skirts, I knew you would grow into the fine woman you have become.”
“Thank you, James.” Short answers and pleasantries are all that is required to hold up my end of the interview.
He turns to face me. His face, normally flushed with life, looks pale in the moonlight. The glint in his eyes sends a ripple of fear through me. Though I know James is too keen on society’s opinion to act untoward me, perhaps I have misjudged him and this interview. It is too late now to call it off, though. We are alone, and I need to do my best to deal with whatever may come my way.
“Thank you, James.”
He seizes my hand, his own clammy with sweat. “You have become a fine woman, Mercy. It will come as no surprise, I am sure, when I tell you how very much I admire you and how well I believe we suit.” He rubs his free hand down the side of his trousers. “We do suit, don’t we, Mercy?”