She’d fled. She knew it. The whole afternoon, from the time she’d arrived in Matthew Goodson’s office until the minute he’d offered her mint ice cream for dessert, had been nothing but pleasure. Sure, half of her was tied in knots from the newness of it all, but Matthew made it less frightening. So much less frightening. And she didn’t like it. She wasn’t going to be dependent on him, on anyone. She wasn’t.
So she’d fled because the urge to kiss him had grown over the evening while he’d told her about his decision to teach. His eyes lit up as he spoke of computers, of their power, of the amazing things people could do with them. And the scary things, he’d conceded, which is what drove his research, his determination to keep the world a little safer by keeping the Internet safe. Much of the terminology had gone over her head, but his passion for his profession had not.
What was it like to live with such passion for something? Had she ever had anything on which she’d focused so much of her self?
Drake Evers didn’t count. That had been a few very shortsighted years of her very young life, and look what that obsession had got her. Or more likely what it had taken from her—namely everything. Her reputation. Her virtue. She’d still had her family, but the affair had permanently marred her relationship with her mother, and guilt over her sisters’ reduced marriage prospects followed her daily. It was one of the reasons she’d wanted to leave, to come here—to give her sisters back the chances they should have had, without her there to raise eyebrows and draw whispers.
Rolling over, she glanced at the clock. 12:37 a.m. It was strange to have a clock in every room, especially one that glowed in the dark. Electrical power, in fact, still mystified her. Nearly everything here relied on electricity. What would these people do if they lost access to it?
A chair squeaked in the other room. Matthew was awake? Amara turned onto her back, irritation crinkling her brow as her traitorous mind wondered what he was doing.
Why did he have to be so finely formed? Those searing blue eyes, the squareness of his jaw, the stark contrast of his dark hair with his fair skin. He was beautiful. Blast it. A groan escaped her lips as she flopped over a third time, pulling the blanket over her head.
She half-hoped Washington was well tomorrow so she could return to Cat’s. The temptation here was too great. The other half of her dreamed of what might happen if Matthew came down the hallway and instead of entering his own chamber, entered hers.
No one would have to know. Only the two of them were here.
The door next to hers opened and closed. That ended that fantasy; he’d obviously gone to his own room. Thank goodness he had some sense. Some self-control. Because apparently what they’d said about her was true.
She had none.
Chapter 14
A knock at the door startled Amara awake. The light streaming into the room surprised her; she’d thought she hadn’t slept a wink, tossing and turning as she listened to the creaking of the bed in Matthew’s chamber. Knowing Matthew Goodson lay in the next room was almost more than she could bear—so tantalizing and so scandalizing at the same time.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Yes?”
“Sorry if I woke you,” came his deep voice. “But Cat just called. Wash is doing much better. You can go back. If you want.”
Had he paused at that last line? Did he want her to stay?
There was no reason for her to. Was there? Only torture, only temptation. Only distraction, and the possibility for complications she didn’t want. On the other hand, there were no children underfoot here. It was peaceful and quiet, except for occasional noise from other apartments. She liked that.
No. This was not where she belonged. Not that she knew where she did belong in this century. But she was never going to find out if she centered her attention on a man, even a man as handsome as Matthew Goodson.
There was more to life than a pretty face. She’d learned that the hard way, through Drake. Handsome is as handsome does. She’d do better to stay away from Mr. Goodson completely. So why did every inch of her protest at the notion?
Because he’s been kind to you and gone out of his way for you.
“I shall be out in a moment,” she called, reluctantly leaving the warm bed. At least the room itself was a comfortable temperature. She fully understood now Eliza’s love of central heat. It was a delight to not freeze upon rising.
Footsteps moved off and rattling echoed in the kitchen. After selecting attire for the day, she crossed the hall to shower, remaining under the water far longer than she probably ought to have. Not only was the magnificently hot water a gift from heaven but hiding in the shower allowed her to avoid any immediate decision-making.
With a sigh, she shut off the water, toweling herself dry before sliding into the jeans Taylor helped her pick out. A moment of misgiving hit her; the jeans were quite formfitting, clinging to her thighs and derriere in a manner to which she was most definitely not accustomed, though Taylor had assured her they were very flattering. She pulled on a knitted top—Taylor called it a sweater—of a beautiful plum that complemented her eyes and hair. Not that she wanted Matthew to notice. Not that she’d thought of him and his potential reaction when he saw her in it. No, not at all.
She brushed her teeth with the toothbrush and toothpaste he’d given her, enjoying the clean feeling. She was lucky hers were full and more-or-less straight, compared to many of her acquaintance. Dental hygiene had certainly come a long way; toothpaste tasted far better than tooth powder.
Wandering into the kitchen, she found Matthew at the stove, cooking eggs. He glanced quickly at her, then back again as his eyes trailed over her from head to toe. She raised an eyebrow at his regard, and he flushed, his head bending toward the eggs as he stirred.
“Something wrong?”
“N-no,” he choked out, his wrist stirring even faster.
Amara’s lips curved into a smile in spite of herself. It delighted her to fluster him so much. Turnabout was fair play.
“So, should I drop you at Cat’s this morning?”
The hesitation in his voice matched her own. There really was no reason for her to stay, to impose on him further. Plus, she wanted to get to know Cat better, to learn from her, to share stories about their respective times. Cat was the only one with whom Amara could be her natural self since Cat knew the truth. And being herself, being able to confess her confusion and fear and not feel self-conscious about everything she didn’t know, appealed.
Still, she paused. What would he say, what would he do if she said no? Perhaps his hesitation wasn’t that he wanted her to stay. Perhaps it was that he wanted her to go but didn’t want to appear overly eager to be rid of her. Matthew had only taken her in at Ben’s request. He likely didn’t want to disappoint his friend.
“Yes.” It was the most logical course of action.
His wrist stopped for a second before he smiled widely, turning his face back to hers. “One final breakfast, then, before you’re released from the bachelor’s quarters. I hope it’s not been too much of an inconvenience to be here.”
He thought he was inconveniencing her? Or more likely, he was merely being polite.
“Of course not. It is I who have inconvenienced you.”
He slid the eggs onto two plates before answering. “In all honesty, I hadn’t expected this to be so comfortable. Thank you for being an easy guest.” His tone was more formal, less open than before.
A strange disappointment stung the back of her throat. What had she expected? For him to beg her to stay? Such a wish made no sense. And yet ... She shot him a glance as she took a plate. Why wasn’t he interested in her? Matthew definitely reacted physically to her, as she to him. She knew her reasons for resisting. What was holding him back?
It’s not as if he needed to, from what Eliza had said. Relationships were different in this era. Her sister-in-law had spoken plainly of premarital and extramarital sex, even as both women had blushed.
“I don’t want you to be
caught off-guard, Amara,” she’d said. “Men can and will try to get you into bed, and they won’t expect anything from it and won’t think you will, either. It’s not like here—people don’t get married just because they’ve had sex. Er, relations.”
“I understand sex,” Amara had answered with a tinkling laugh to mask her discomfort. Half of her had been astonished by the lax nature of interactions between the sexes. In her society, men and women remained mostly segregated, and no respectable, unmarried woman would have been caught alone with a man. No man would have wanted that, either, for his hand would have been forced.
The other half of her found the idea of such freedom incredibly exciting, titillating. She had always had strong feelings of a sensual nature, feelings she hadn’t wanted to reveal to anyone, feelings which had made her feel bad, shameful, even, long before her actual scandal. Women were not supposed to be driven by the flesh. Pleasure brought problems.
At least it had in 1813. But this was 2016. She could indulge with Matthew without ramifications, without remorse. If only he wished to.
No. Stop. She set her plate down more forcefully than intended, ignoring Matthew’s questioning look and those eyes. Those desperately beautiful eyes.
Fleshly pleasures would not distract her from her goals.
It was time to leave before she threw herself at this man a third time.
Chapter 15
“Mama!” Washington ran through the front door of the Treasure Trove a little over a week later, his father locking the door behind them before trailing after in a more leisurely fashion.
Cat whisked the boy up and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. “Did you have fun at the park?”
“Yes!” He hugged her tightly around the neck but then wriggled his way down from her arms and raced back to Ben. “Dada, I’m hungry. I have a snack?”
“How about supper instead?”
“Yay!” Wash charged up the stairs, not even looking behind to see if his father was following.
“You ladies okay here?” Ben asked.
“Yes, go—you know that boy when he’s hungry!” Cat waved her husband off, and he gave her a salute before taking the steps two at a time.
Turning to Amara, Cat let out a big sigh. “I wish Wash didn’t have to be with someone else all week. But I can’t watch him and run the bookstore. At least he loves Mrs. Postupak.”
“And you, him.” Amara twisted her mouth into a rueful grin. “I did not have such a close relationship with my parents. As a child, I spent my time with my nurse and nanny.”
Cat half-chuckled, half-sniffled at that. “I don’t know if that makes me feel less guilty, or just sad.”
“We do that to which we are accustomed. Eliza is very involved with baby Rose, though. She won’t hear of a wet nurse and has insisted the baby be across the hall from her chambers, rather than in the nursery.”
Cat’s eyes moistened. “Thank you for speaking of Eliza in the present tense. I miss her so much.”
Both women glanced at Eliza’s portrait over the fireplace. The blonde beauty’s ever-present smile and joyful blue eyes soothed Amara.
Blue eyes brought unwelcomed thoughts of Matthew. Mr. Goodson. He hadn’t contacted her since the morning he’d returned her here. As far as she knew, he’d not spoken with Cat, either. He’d even canceled last week’s Sunday meeting with Ben.
Was he avoiding her? As if you merit that much consideration.
Clearly, she’d been but a momentary distraction for Mr. Goodson. It bothered her that he was proving harder to forget. Would he show up this evening? It was Sunday again, after all.
Amara shook her head, determined to dislodge any thoughts of Matthew Goodson. She walked behind the large oak desk, anxious to see the photographs flashing across the register’s computer screen.
Earlier in the week, Ben had transferred the pictures from Eliza’s phone to the computer, to enlarge them. Amara viewed them daily and spent much time telling Cat stories of her family.
One photo showed Eliza with Deveric. A second showed them with baby Rose. And Amara.
“Eliza wanted everyone in the photograph,” Amara had said, “but reasoned she could not explain the machine. I was the only one, besides Deveric, who knew her truth.” She bit the inside of her cheek, willing the stinging behind her eyes to dissipate. “At least she captured that painting of our family when no one was looking. I can still see my family. For that, I am grateful.” She’d pointed out her mother, Grace, Emmeline, Cecilia, and Becca. Chance and Frederick.
As the portrait flashed up on the screen again—a screensaver, Ben called it—Amara’s fingers hovered over their faces. Oh, how she missed them.
She’d busied herself the past few days talking with Cat, reading, exploring the immediate area on foot, and with completing her application for admission to the University—UVA, as everyone called it, pleased she’d managed it without Mr. Goodson’s help—and only a little from Ben. She was grateful for Eliza’s far-sightedness in arranging for a set of official school records to be included among the documents sent to her. The dishonesty troubled her; the records obviously weren’t authentic. But what could she do? Explain to University officials she had no such papers—transcripts—because a governess and tutor had schooled her?
“What if the University does not accept me?” Amara suddenly exclaimed, panic in her voice. She’d practically been having fits of the vapors since sending off the application yesterday, even though she likely wouldn’t hear of the decision for months. She wanted this so badly.
Footfalls sounded on the steps, and Ben’s voice echoed in the room. “One doesn’t have to go to college to get a good education, you know.”
Cat burst out laughing as she looked up at her husband, who carried Wash in his arms. “That from a professor?”
“It’s true.” He set Wash down before continuing. “If you’re driven, you can teach yourself. Libraries often carry college textbooks and numerous other educational materials. Many colleges and universities even offer free courses online now.”
Amara’s face lit up. “Indeed? Oh, I should like to try one. Though my dream is to attend a true university, as that was a privilege denied to the women of my era.”
“Well, UVA’s a pretty big one. You could always choose something smaller.”
Amara crinkled her nose. No, UVA was where she wished to learn. She’d walked the University’s grounds nearly every day this week, enjoying the sense of home it stirred. Surely there was a way to make it happen.
An idea hit her. “Can you amend my story so I am already a student?”
Cat shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way. I’ve tried. I can create potential love connections, but that’s it.”
Disappointment dragged down Amara’s shoulders as a knock sounded at the door.
“That would be Matt.” Ben strode to the front of the store.
The name hit her in the chest like a blow. She’d fought the temptation to visit his place of work, to send a greeting. Matthew Goodson was a complication her already confusing life didn’t need. So why was her pulse racing, her eyes hungry for the sight of him?
How would he behave? Would he react to her, or would they be as strangers? Amara sucked in a breath, then feigned nonchalance as Cat cast her a questioning look.
The door swung open, and Matthew crossed the threshold, his hair and blue sweater wet with the mist permeating everything outside. He ran his hand over his head as he wiped his feet on the rug. Each movement called Amara to him. Her mouth watered as if presented with a feast after a long famine. Ridiculous. Still, she swallowed as he passed through the room. When his eyes fell on her, he stopped, and a smile broke out on his face.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey.” She offered the unfamiliar word in return, not sure what else to say.
“Well, don’t let me disturb you.” He gestured to the book Amara had forgotten she was holding, a biography of Ada Lovelace. Not that she’d chosen it because of Mr. Goodso
n and his cat. No, not at all.
“Ben and I will try to be quiet over here.” He turned his back to her and walked to the table on the other side of the room.
That was it? Disappointment unfurled in her midsection, but she did her best to hide it.
“I’m going to take Wash up for his bath. Amara, you’re welcome to stay here in front of the fire if you’d like. I certainly wouldn’t want to leave that cozy spot.” With a wink, Cat and the boy made for the stairs.
Amara probably should have followed her. She didn’t need to interrupt the men. Wash was likely to be loud, however—bath time seemed a favorite time for him to launch into raucous yelling—and she was quite comfortable here. Surely if she read, she wouldn’t bother them. She cast a quick glance toward Matthew. To her surprise, instead of sitting with his back to her, as she’d expected, he’d rounded the table and was seated where he had a direct view if he wanted one. Which apparently he did, as those icy blue eyes were fixed on her.
She gasped, and Ben, who’d settled in next to Matthew, looked up. “Everything okay?” He looked from Matthew to Amara.
“Absolutely,” Matthew said, his tone business-like. Breaking his gaze with Amara, he whipped open his laptop. “Now about those algorithms you’ve been testing regarding the security loophole in ... ”
Amara tuned the words out, though she peeked at the men once in a while. This was silly. She was making calf ’s eyes at Mr. Goodson like a love-struck girl, and he wasn’t paying her the least attention, completely focused on the work in front of him. She didn’t even want to be fixated on him.
Cat had said the attraction, while strong, was not insurmountable. Amara didn’t have to choose Matthew for anything just because Cat had written the two of them into a magical story. After all, when Cat had chosen her love, it hadn’t been any of the men about whom she’d written. She’d picked Ben, instead. And from watching them in the short time Amara’d been here, it was obvious Ben was Cat’s true love.
The Magic of Love Series Page 69
