I felt like I’d just read a history book. Timothy’s story was unbelievable. “Did you meet Shakespeare?”
“No. I knew of him, but, as I said, we were disgusted by London: sewers in the streets, vermin everywhere, and rampant disease. We spent little time there, and our sporadic visits were only at the request of Queen Elizabeth.”
“So, you knew Sir Frances Bacon and Charles Darwin?”
“Bacon, I knew of. Darwin came much later. We were already in the Americas by then. We weren’t readers, Penelope. It was centuries before we took the time to develop a library. Books weren’t common for a lot of our early days.”
“Of course. Did you get to know Benjamin Franklin?”
“No, sorry. We tried to keep away from the glare of publicity. There were early newsprints, and we often read those, but it was only in the missions in California where you could find many printed books. Andrew and I started collecting them. Of course, we had to leave most of them behind each time we moved.”
“So, you never met Benjamin Franklin, George Washington, Hamilton, or Lincoln?”
“I think we missed out on all the famous men in your history books. Remember we avoided groups and crowds where we might be recognized. It was always important to move before the mobs attacked.”
“I get it.,” said nodding, because it did make sense. “And now? How long will you be able to stay in San Jose?”
He reached out to take my hand and bent his head to kiss my palm. “That is the big problem, my darling. Twenty, twenty-five years. Will you be willing to accept that kind of life? Will you join me in my travels?”
“I would like to see Paris and London. Vienna and . . .”
“We can do that. You can choose our next residence.”
“And how would Andrew feel about that? About me making it a party of three?”
“Probably jealous. He’d like to find someone who was willing to join him in his life. He would not be sorry if you accompanied us, though. He likes you.”