by Kit Morgan
Duncan was right – Aldrich needed someone in his life. And after meeting this spitfire American, he couldn’t settle for anything less than the wild blaze she’d created in him. Her free spirit had captured him, heart and soul. If he didn’t make her his and now, who knew what the consequence might be? A broken heart? A lonely life? A scandal? What was it about her that could make him feel and think this way?
“Aldrich,” she finally said.
He looked at her, saw her sad expression and went cold. “Tory …”
“Aldrich, I don’t know how you were raised, if this is customary, or if you’re just … I don’t know, making all of this up. But I can’t.”
He swallowed hard. “You can’t what?”
“Marry you. It’s insane.”
Air escaped him as if he’d been punched in the gut. “You jest.”
“This isn’t something I’d joke about. I’m just being realistic – you don’t kiss a girl a few times then ask her to marry you. Not in this day and age.”
He stiffened. The world was changing, true, but he didn’t think he was that far behind it. Things must be more different in America than he thought. “You need time, I understand. I’m only trying to do the right thing and protect you.”
She blushed, then smiled shyly. “Thanks, but I don’t need protecting. What I need is this job.” She looked away. “I admit, the idea of marrying someone like you does have its appeal. But you’re moving way too fast. We barely know each other.”
He groaned. What was wrong with this woman? And what was he thinking? He was still holding her – anyone with eyes on them might as well start writing up the banns. How could she not understand that? “I don’t believe I like the way Americans think. Surely your reputation means something there.”
“Of course it does. I’m not some floozy.”
He snorted. “You’re still in my arms.”
“You’re still holding me!”
“I’ll let go, then.”
“All right.”
He shuddered! What was that about? But deep inside, he was sure that once his hand released her, she would be gone, the parts of his heart now with hers would be lost to him forever. But he couldn’t force her to marry him. He wanted her heart first.
Aldrich closed his eyes and let go.
Tory stood, spied the round of cheese on the pebbled walk and picked it up. “I’m … going back inside.”
Aldrich also stood. “I’ll accompany you.”
“No, I don’t think that’s such a good idea right now. You’re too confusing for me.”
He looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry if my actions offended you …”
“Offended? Jeez, they’re not offensive, just outdated.” She turned away, took a deep breath and said what she needed to say. “Look, you’re a good-looking guy – any girl would kill to have you propose to them, after a proper amount of time. I don’t know what year you think you’re in, but it’s sure as heck not the right one.”
His face screwed up in confusion. “Tory, I know where you come from things are very different …”
“No,” she interrupted. “It doesn’t matter if it’s here or there, you just don’t go assuming someone’s going to marry you after a few kisses, not even given … whatever passed between us.” Whoops, she shouldn’t have said that. Now she sounded crazier than he did.
“You felt it too,” he said gently. “I thought it was just me.”
Her face went blank. Was he playing her? She knew she felt something happen between them, something deep and powerful. Or had she just dreamed of moments like this enough times to make her imagine she did? What if in reality he was a total jerk, gaming her for all it was worth? But what was it worth? What would he gain? “You know what? I’m going back to the house. I have to think.”
He looked at the bowl of apples on the bench and picked it up.
“I’ll take that back to the kitchen unless you’re going to eat them,” she said, hoping he was. She needed to find the biggest candy bar she could and devour it. Apples and cheese weren’t going to cut it for stress eating.
Aldrich picked up the bowl and handed it to her. Their fingers brushed and heat shot through her, along with the same something that made her want to believe him, every last word. But how could he possibly be sincere? It wasn’t possible, unless he was some weirdo who’d been working for the duke and duchess so long he believed his employer’s historical fantasy world was real. Figures the guy she’d fall for would be living in a delusion.
“Look,” she turned to go. “I’ll see you later.”
“Very well, I shall respect your privacy. You may send for me when you’re ready.”
“Send for you? Where are you going?”
He looked into her eyes. “Not far. I’ll be near enough should you need me.”
Tory couldn’t think straight in his company. He made her dizzy. She wished she knew if he really and truly felt it too, but he wouldn’t be the first man to give her a line of bull just to get into her pants. Oh, please don’t let him be in that category. Let him be crazy instead. I can handle a little crazy. She retraced her steps back to the house.
When she reached the servants’ entrance she suddenly realized she’d left Aldrich without so much as a goodbye. “Great, he probably thinks I’ve lost it.” She entered the house, went into the kitchen and began searching for a refrigerator to put the cheese away. After a minute she rolled her eyes and tossed her hand in the air. “Of course there’s no refrigerator – not in this freak show!” she said loudly.
Tory looked at the ceiling, shut her eyes and felt her shoulders tighten with tension. She needed to think. She needed to move. She needed that massive chocolate bar she’d thought of earlier. “Argggh!” She set the bowl and cheese on the worktable, left the kitchen and stomped upstairs.
Aldrich walked through the gardens, thinking. He’d speak to Duncan, of course, tell him everything. He was the one who’d encouraged him to spend time with Tory – and a fine kettle of fish that turned out to be! He didn’t know whether to shake Duncan’s hand or punch him in the nose. Had His Grace known all along how hard he’d fall, how easily? He didn’t know his heart could reach such a state of affairs, but obviously Duncan had.
What galled Aldrich the most was that his friend’s matchmaking attempt had worked, with him nary lifting a finger! He hoped that little piece of gossip (albeit true) didn’t reach Kent too soon. He wouldn’t have a moment’s peace – everyone would begin to inquire about a wedding. And poor Tory, how would she fare when word got out?
If word gets out, old chum, his brain countered.
“It most assuredly will,” he replied aloud. “Servants aren’t ones to keep silent.”
But Duncan can be counted on to keep them silent …
Aldrich stopped his aimless stroll and sat on a nearby bench. After a brief battle with his pride and thinking of the odd pairing of Duncan and Cozette, he was open to the idea of a match between him and Tory. Devil take the ton and what they thought. If Duncan could manage, so could he. Besides, Cozette’s ways were far stranger than Tory’s. People expected an American to be a little wild, even the rich ones. America had no landed aristocracy like Britain.
But she was a tutor, a governess – though she didn’t attend any of the institutions in England to become one, she would be recognized as such after working for the duchess. That was something he should’ve realized before giving credence to the notions Duncan put in his head.
Did Aldrich believe in love at first sight? No, at least not the kind that hit you between the eyes and made you want to die without the other person. But he did believe in taking a second look, not to mention a third, and now he was lost. In just days, his initial intrigue had turned into something much more powerful, deep and (God help him) permanent. He didn’t think he could ever get the woman out of his heart, despite their short time together. He might as well have been hit between the eyes first thing.
But realizing he’d lost his
heart to her so quickly wasn’t the current problem. What was, was that Tory didn’t believe he could, or, judging by her words, that she could. So what to do?
He watched a honeybee fly toward a bed of yellow roses. “Time,” he said to himself. “She says she needs time.” He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. Fine, he could wait. But would gossip? He knew someone had to have seen them in the garden – soon word would get out. Tory feared losing her position, that was obvious. If he told Duncan what he’d done and had been witnessed, the duke would naturally insist he do the honorable thing. Which he was more than willing to.
But this was 1880, not 1827. A lot had changed in the last fifty years. Some would consider a mere dalliance in the garden innocent. Though he had to admit his kisses weren’t so innocent – he was surprised they hadn’t set the roses on fire. If the scenario was that he’d gotten Tory with child, then he’d marry her whether she wanted to or not. It was the only way to protect her and the baby. It wouldn’t matter if he were in love with her – what kind of man would he be if he didn’t take care of them?
However, there was still the problem of her thinking him mad for wanting to marry her in the first place. He might have thought so too, not realizing what his feelings were until today. Truth be told, they’d taken him as much by surprise as they had her.
In sum: it seemed if he told the duke and tried to marry her, she’d balk and perhaps, position or no position, sail straight back to America. But if he didn’t, the gossips would tear her (and perhaps him) apart and she’d never find another position other than with the duchess. Aldrich was sure Cozette would take her under her wing, but for how long? Cozette’s speech needed some sorting, but it wasn’t something that would take years.
He stretched his long legs in front of him. He’d have to wait and see what happened, that’s all. If there was any gossip, would it explode by the time Cozette’s guests left on Monday? Juicy tidbits traveled fast from county to county. But he pitied those foolish enough to make sport of Tory should anyone catch wind of things over the next few days. He wouldn’t stand for it, not one bit.
His mind made up, Aldrich rose from the bench and made his way back to the house. He would have to talk to Duncan before tongues began to wag – in the next couple of days. A disgruntled housemaid was all it would take. She’d of course simply tell the house party’s guests’ valets and ladies’ maids. It was one of the most classic ways to spread gossip.
He sighed at the thought and continued toward the house.
“Unbelievable!” Tory paced her room. “What is that man thinking, that I’m stupid?” She stopped by the window. “Kisses me, then asks me to marry him … that’s taking this too far!” She struck her fist against her palm just thinking about it. This charade had to stop. She wanted this job, she really did, but how long could she put up with all the playacting?
She blew a wisp of hair out of her face and turned to the bed. It was one of the most wonderful things about the place. She knew it didn’t belong to her, but she could pretend. She went to it, lay down and threw an arm over her eyes. “Why me?” And if the elaborate act were to continue, did that mean the duchess’s house guests would dress in period costume for the entire weekend? If that was the case, as soon as her probation period was over, she’d ask for a raise. It would at least help her keep her sanity!
She sat up and exhaled. She shouldn’t be wasting so much time and energy on this, but she had to get her frustration out somehow. Shame and confusion had struck hard in the garden, right after she thought she’d found a spark of true happiness. But the man couldn’t possibly be serious. What idiot kisses someone, then immediately asks them to marry them? What a lunatic!
“But he’s not crazy. He’s doing what everyone else in this insane asylum is doing – acting for the duchess.” She put her face in her hands. “What have I gotten myself into?”
She sat for a minute or two, her mind a blank. She needed a backup plan in case these people drove her nuts. She was beginning to feel like she was in some nightmarish Westworld spinoff set in Victorian England. Would that mean fewer killer robots or more?
She sighed and went to the window again. If the house staff had gone to the carnival, they would be returning soon. How much time could one spend at such a thing? And so what if someone saw them kiss in the garden and told a few others? Was it really that big of a deal? Well, she might get fired because of it.
She pulled at her hair and growled. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” But Aldrich wasn’t the stupid one, she was. How could she let herself fall for a guy she knew nothing about? She didn’t know what he did for a living, other than pretend he was some loony version of a nineteenth-century knight she had tea with. She didn’t even know what his real name was, what kind of car he drove, what he majored in at school, nothing. All she did know at this point was that for some unexplainable reason, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
Whatever it was pulling them closer together, however crazy it seemed, was real. And right now, it was the only thing that was. Tory sighed again. Didn’t it just figure?
Chapter Thirteen
“You want to marry her?” Duncan sputtered, spilling his lemonade. He grabbed a napkin from the table between them and wiped his trousers. “Just like that?”
“Don’t look so surprised,” Aldrich said after taking a sip from his own glass. They were outside, enjoying a light snack on a back terrace near the gardens. “I know it’s sudden, but things … well, things have changed. I’ve changed. And I’ll never meet another woman like her.”
“You can say that again,” Duncan muttered. He eyed Aldrich, thinking, what a stroke of luck! If Aldrich married Miss Phelps in the next few days, they’d be well ahead of schedule. No worrying about madmen from another time infiltrating his happy home and upsetting things. After all, murder – or in this case, attempted murder – wouldn’t sit well with his dinner.
Not to mention his wife. Oh dear, what a disaster that would be! She’d be out for blood, hunting the blackguards down and trying to kill them. Not a bad thing, necessarily, but it would be talked about. They had enough problems with the ton already.
Duncan set the thought aside and drained his lemonade. “I think it’s a splendid idea.”
“You do?” Aldrich said in surprise.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Duncan asked. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Aldrich took a deep breath. “I … kissed her in the library.”
Duncan’s face went blank, then he burst out laughing. “Is that all?”
“And the gardens. Especially the gardens.”
Duncan laughed harder. “My good man, is that what this is all about?” He suddenly sobered. “You do love her, don’t you? She hasn’t been compromised?”
“No, of course not! As to love, I didn’t think it possible, but … I believe I do. If not yet, I certainly shall.” Aldrich leaned toward him. “Duncan, she is the most fascinating woman I’ve ever met. I should be appalled at some of her behavior, but I’m not – I find it wildly attractive.”
“Thank the Lord,” Duncan sighed in relief.
Aldrich raised an eyebrow. “Something the matter?”
“Not in the slightest – I’m happy for you. When love strikes your heart, what can you do?”
“And she’ll not lose her position because of it?” Aldrich asked in all seriousness.
“Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?”
“She did. And I’m sure one or more of your housemaids saw us in the garden earlier when I … made my affections clear. That always leads to gossip.”
“Oh, I see. Yes, that could be a problem, especially with the house party.”
“Where are those maids now?”
Duncan made a face. “At the carnival. Most of the staff attended in the morning with us. Now that we’ve returned, the rest were allowed to go. I apologize I didn’t inform you of our leaving.” But I wanted you to have time alone with t
he girl, he tacked on silently.
“Right. They’ll be spreading it all over the village.”
Duncan picked up a cookie. “And what, exactly, will they be wagging their tongues about? It’s not like you ravished her … is it? You didn’t …”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then why do you look so guilty? What did you do?”
Aldrich stood and began to pace. “I kissed her, then kissed her again. I wanted to make sure she had never been kissed like that before. I …”
“You claimed her.” It was a term he’d picked up from Mr. Mosgofian, and it seemed to fit.
Aldrich, now on the other side of the terrace, spun on him. “Yes!”
Duncan slowly nodded. “I see. That must have been some kiss.”
“Kisses,” Aldrich corrected.
“No wonder you feel … well, I would imagine a mix of obligation, love ...” He joined Aldrich and put a hand on his shoulder. “How does she feel?”
Aldrich squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.
“Oh, that is a problem.” A big problem, he added silently. But at least Aldrich was smitten. One down, one to go. “Where is Miss Phelps now? I haven’t seen her since we returned.”
“I don’t know.” He opened his eyes. “In her room, I’d imagine. I told her I’d leave her be.”
“Alone?” Duncan glanced at the house, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tell me, friend, just how did you leave things between the two of you when you parted?”
Aldrich frowned. “Not well.”
Duncan looked at Aldrich, then at the gardens beyond. He had less than a week to make sure the two of them wed before danger came lurking. “Describe ‘not well’.”
Aldrich shrugged. “She thinks I’m playacting. Perhaps she thinks everyone here is.”
“Playacting? What the devil is she talki … oh, dear.”
“What?”
Duncan returned to his chair and sat. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh bloody dear …”
