Everything was happening so fast, and I struggled to fully grasp it all—but one question rose above the others. “Why did you go to Boston when I told you not to?”
“How did you know I shouldn’t go?”
“I read about your death in a history book. I forfeited my path three weeks early to try to stop you.”
“Oh, Libby.” He brought his hand up to my cheek, caressing it with his thumb. His eyes were shadowed under the brim of his hat. “I had to go. I had foreknowledge about my death and knew I could not change my fate—and the truth is, I didn’t want to. Not after you died that very next day. I learned about my death while attending college at William and Mary. It’s why I fought my love for you so strongly. I knew I would die and you’d be left to grieve me, and it wouldn’t have been fair to you. But I couldn’t deny my love for you, Libby. It was eating away at me, and I knew if I didn’t tell you, I’d regret it for the rest of my existence.”
“I knew I was leaving, too. I had planned to stay—wanted to stay, but—” How could I tell him about Teddy? Would he understand? “I was forced to marry in this path, and I discovered I was going to have a baby.”
Henry stiffened and lowered his hand, his eyes filling with anguish. “You’re married?”
I swallowed and quickly said, “I’m widowed. I didn’t want to marry Lord Cumberland, but I had no choice. I was going to leave him on my twenty-first birthday so I could stay in 1775, but then I learned about my son, Teddy, and knew I couldn’t. My husband died last year, fighting in France.” The words tumbled out in a rush. I wanted desperately for Henry to understand.
He took a step away from me, appearing to grapple with the information.
“I didn’t love Reggie. I didn’t even really know him.” Frustration at the whole situation boiled up within me. “My mother forced the union, and we were parted just days after our wedding when the war broke out.” I licked my lips, suddenly feeling parched and desolate. I had caused that pain in Henry’s eyes. Pain and disappointment. For the first time, I understood why he hated disappointing me. It was a dreadful feeling. “I didn’t want the marriage, or to get pregnant.” Memories of Reggie’s misuse of me threatened to swallow me again. Tears burned the backs of my eyes as I whispered, “It wasn’t by my choice.”
“Oh, Libby.” Henry returned to me, gathering me in his arms.
I pressed my cheek against his chest, hoping he could forgive me, though I had not been at fault. At least, not for my marriage or pregnancy.
But another thought made my heart stop. “Are you ... married?”
“Nay.” He hugged me tighter. “I have never loved another, and I was content to remain a bachelor for the rest of my life.”
“I have a son,” I said, love for Teddy filling up the void Reggie had created. “His name is Henry Theodore Reginald Fairhaven.”
“You named him after me?” He pulled back, his voice filled with wonder.
“I did. I call him Teddy. He’s ten months old and is in New York with my parents. When my husband died, I was left with a fortune, which I’m managing for my son until he comes of age, but I want to invest some of that money here, in Williamsburg. That’s why I’ve come.”
“Your husband’s name was Lord Cumberland?”
I nodded.
“I remember reading about your wedding in the newspapers. I can hardly believe that was you.”
“And I can hardly believe you’re you.” I smiled as the full understanding finally hit me. “And we’re here, together, with nothing standing in our way.”
He cradled my face in his hands and kissed me there, under the elm tree in my mama’s backyard. For a moment, it felt as if we were in 1775 once again—but we weren’t. We were in Williamsburg in 1916, and we were both free. Free to love, to marry, and to spend the rest of our days together.
“Just think,” Henry said. “If you had not become pregnant, you would have remained in 1775, and I would have died, and we would have never found each other again. Or if I had listened to you and avoided the path God ordained for me, I would have remained there, and you would be here.”
The truth was overwhelming. I thought back to all those hours of grief and mourning when I had railed at God and cried out to Him in my agony, asking why those events had transpired. He had been faithful to listen to me and to hear my cries, yet He had known the end from the beginning. He had known Henry and I would one day cross paths again and that we would do it here, in a time and place where both of us were free to be together.
And in the process, I had been blessed with Teddy.
“God is good,” I whispered to Henry. “So very, very good.”
He took my hand and drew me along with him. “I want you to meet my father,” he said. “He’ll never believe I’ve found my Libby.”
“I’ve met your father, and I have a feeling he knew more than I realized.”
****
Henry didn’t let go of my hand as we stepped onto Duke of Gloucester Street. We’d never walked down this road hand in hand, yet it felt as natural as if we’d been doing it all our lives.
I still had so many questions for Henry, but there would be time enough to answer them all. I especially wanted to ask him about Mama’s diary, but he had other plans at the moment.
