by Kit Morgan
Downstairs she searched for Aldrich in the drawing room. Tillie and Vinnie hadn’t come down yet, so she wasn’t too late. Two of the baron’s daughters were also missing.
“Tory,” someone rasped behind her, followed by a man clearing his throat.
She turned and smiled at the look of admiration on Aldrich’s face. “You like?” She spun around for good measure.
“You’re stunning.”
“Thanks.” She looked him up and down. He wore what the other men did, a Victorian-era tux and tails. “You cut quite the figure yourself.”
He laughed. “I’ve not heard that term before.”
“It means you look good.”
“Thank you,” he said with a nod. “You look … awesome.”
She smiled, blushed, then studied the others. “Wow, look at Cozette.” The duchess wore a dark red velvet dress trimmed in white lace with a low neckline and white lace ribbons down the bodice. She wondered if it was considered scandalous for the time period. But who cared? The duchess was gorgeous in it. The matrons in the room were also decked out in gowns of various colors and trims, but none so grand. Cozette’s made a statement: I’m wearing this because I’m the duchess and I can.
“Yes, she has a fine dressmaker,” Aldrich said.
Tory glanced at her own gown. It made her feel like royalty. She smiled at the thought and glanced between Cozette and Aldrich. “She’s really something, isn’t she?”
“The duchess? I dare say, she is. I’ve never met anyone like her.” He touched Tory on the elbow. “Or you. You are one of a kind, Tory Phelps.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” he said as his eyes roamed her face. Was he hoping to steal a kiss? Not that she’d mind. It’d make the evening even more fun. Drat, she wished she could’ve charged her phone – she should be taking pictures. But would she get in trouble for that? No one else was trying to … oh, right. None of them had their phone on them. She sighed in frustration.
“What’s the matter?”
“Oh, nothing. I just wish I had a way to record all this – take some pictures and upload them on social media?” She ran her hand down the front of her dress. “I know a few folks that would die to see me in this.”
“Oh, yes … eh, social media.” He smiled.
“Do you use it much?”
He swallowed. “Er, no.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t seem the type that would.”
He glanced here and there, as if nervous. “Do you?”
“Not as much as some. I’d rather keep in touch the old-fashioned way. You know, make a phone call?”
He smiled as his eyebrows shot up, then nodded.
She eyed him. He was acting strange, but then, they shouldn’t be talking about this stuff here. She’d have to speak with him alone about their lives outside of work. The sooner the better as far as she was concerned, because if her heart beat any faster, she swore it would pop out of her chest and into his. Oh, great. I am so falling for this guy.
Before she knew it, the rest of the guests joined them and Aldrich offered her his arm. “Ready to go into dinner?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“I have … questions,” he hedged.
“About what?”
He looked her in the eyes. “Your life in America.” He swallowed hard.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, just … curious.”
“Oh, nothing wrong with that. What do you want to know?”
“I’m afraid the discussion wouldn’t be appropriate here. Perhaps later?”
He wasn’t afraid to talk about it at dinner, was he? But then, he’d sat across the table and down a few chairs from her last night. She’d have to talk loudly and so would he. Mr. Rawlinson did enough of that already. “Sure, later’s fine.”
He smiled. “Splendid. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
She half-smiled. “About time you got around to asking.”
“Well, we’ve both been busy.”
“You can say that again. And you’ll tell me all about you? Your place in Kent and all that?”
He studied her a moment, as if weighing whether telling her about his life would hurt her somehow. Would it? Oh man, he wasn’t married, was he?! “Certainly,” he finally said.
Now it was her turn to stare. She hadn’t thought of that before. He could be married, engaged, or at the very least have a girlfriend. Dang!
He escorted her into dinner without another word. She didn’t talk either. She should’ve thought about his relationship status before but hadn’t. Just because he didn’t wear a wedding ring didn’t mean he wasn’t taken. And if he was, then what was he doing kissing her?
Don’t go there, don’t go there, don’t go there! But the way her mind worked, she did. Worse, what if he had a kid and got him every other weekend or something? Not that it was a bad thing, just something more added to the mix.
The historical estate was magical, the clothes more beautiful than she could imagine and the people … well, were something else entirely. But the whole setup didn’t allow her to think straight. Now she saw she’d made a big mistake. Why else would her heart feel like it was snapping in two at the thought Aldrich might already be taken, and a liar besides?
Tory wasn’t just falling for the guy. Somehow, some way, she already had.
Chapter Nineteen
The rest of the evening was up and down. One minute, Tory was floating on air, Aldrich at her side when he could be and very attentive. When he wasn’t, his eyes were still on her, even from across the room. During dinner he’d watched her as well, stealing glances if not outright staring. What could he be thinking? Had he sensed her sudden distress in the drawing room before going into dinner? Was he sensing it now?
A string quartet began to play as everyone entered the ballroom. To have such a room in a house, even as big a house as this, was impressive. It was at least a hundred feet long and fifty wide with a thirty-foot ceiling and a marble floor. Paintings in intricate gold frames hung on the walls between sets of double French doors. The wall sconces and decorative moldings on the ceiling and walls were also gold. The walls themselves were white, as were the curtains on the doors. It was magical.
And Her Grace had told the marchioness this was a small ballroom? If this was small, what would a large one be like? Tory made a mental note to explore the rest of the estate. She hadn’t gotten around to that yet, having been so busy and befuddled since her arrival. Seeing the opulent ballroom did confirm that the duke and duchess had to be loaded. They could afford this whole living-history lifestyle.
“May I have the first dance?” Aldrich asked.
She smiled as her heart fluttered. She wished it wouldn’t, but didn’t know how to stop it. “Of course. I’ll try not to step on your toes.”
He laughed. “Thank you.”
“Thank me if I accomplish it.” She brushed at her skirt as he chuckled. “No, I mean it.”
“You’re nervous.”
“Yeah, well, this is kinda new to me.”
He turned to her. “I’ll not let you stumble. If you make a misstep, hang onto me.”
His voice was gentle, reassuring. Her voice, on the other hand, was barely a whisper. “Okay.” Kind of hard to talk when your stomach was doing backflips and your body was tingling.
Duncan and Cozette stepped out first and began to dance a waltz. Good, she could do that. Other couples followed and Aldrich led her into the fray. “You’re doing well,” he said after a minute. “Very well.”
“I had a good teacher.”
“Teachers,” he corrected. They both glanced around, saw Tillie dancing with her brother Bram and smiled. “He’s managed to avoid the baron’s daughters so far.”
They danced past the baron’s daughters, who Tory swore were salivating. “Does he have to dance with them? I mean, they’re looking at him like he’s a pork chop.”
Aldrich laughed. “I believe the marquess a
nd marchioness consider them beneath their son’s station.”
“In other words, they haven’t got a shot.”
“If that means they have no chance at marriage to the man, then yes.”
She smiled. She liked the look in his eyes – genuinely happy. She was getting herself all worked up for nothing. Why not enjoy the evening? Then when she had a chance to speak with him alone, she’d clear the air and find out what she needed to know about him. And she’d better not wait – she didn’t want to fall hopelessly in love with a guy who wasn’t available. But she couldn’t deny his happy countenance, the tenderness in his voice or the way he looked at her and out for her. All of which made her fall for him all the more.
She survived the first dance without incident, but then the duke approached. “Miss Phelps, may I have the next dance?”
She smiled. “Aren’t there supposed to be … dance cards or something?”
“Normally, yes, but given it was such a small affair Cozette, as you say, chucked the idea. So you’ll dance with me?”
Tory laughed and glanced at Aldrich, who nodded. “Sure.”
The duke offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
She took it, noted the haughty looks of the countess and several others, and smiled. Was he dancing with her next on purpose? Oh, what did it matter? She’d enjoy herself and try not to step on his feet.
“My wife is very pleased with her progress,” the duke said as the dancing began. Thank goodness it was another waltz – she could handle those.
“I’m glad.”
“How long do you think it will take her to be rid of her hesitation?”
Tory winced. Once Cozette’s speech was fixed, her job would be over. “That depends. She’s making good progress.”
“When you’re done, will you go back to America or stay on here?”
She started, even as she danced. “I … what do you mean, stay on?”
He glanced at Aldrich near the refreshment table. “I can think of one possibility.”
She followed his gaze as best she could. “Wha …?”
“He has a growing affection for you, my dear. Do you reciprocate?”
“Well, I … I …”
“I may be speaking out of turn, but Aldrich is my friend and I want the best for him. I must say, he’s quite smitten.”
Once she got her mouth to work, she blurted, “He is?”
“Yes.”
Her heart took off like a racehorse. “Um, he doesn’t have a girlfriend back in Kent, does he?”
The duke smiled. “No. He is quite unattached.”
She sighed in relief. “Oh, thank Heaven,” she muttered.
That made the duke smile. “It’s something to think about. He’s a good man.”
She glanced Aldrich’s way. “Yes, he seems so.”
“Seems?”
She shrugged. “I’d like to get to know him better.”
“Of course.”
Tory smiled. Who better to hear it from? The duke had known Aldrich for years. He smiled too, becoming a huge grin as they danced by his wife and he looked at her. Tory had no idea what he was so happy about, unless it was that she hadn’t stepped on his toes yet.
But she couldn’t wait to dance with Aldrich again. As relief flooded her, she knew without a shadow of a doubt this was definitely going to be an evening to remember.
Aldrich danced the appropriate number of dances with Tory then led her to the refreshment table. He wanted to keep her to himself as much as propriety allowed, but it was hard. Duncan didn’t mind, but the other guests expected him to adhere to the usual social graces.
He watched her dance with the marquess’s son Bram, with the Earl of Danbourne, and when she danced with Mr. Rawlinson, he thought he’d die of amusement. She was trying so hard to follow the old man’s slow movements and not get ahead of him.
Aldrich danced with Cozette and a few of the young ladies in attendance, but as soon as he was able he was at Tory’s side. He had a growing apprehension, as if she would disappear in a puff of smoke. The feeling was unwarranted – it wasn’t as if she was about to quit her job, pack her things and return to America. Besides, how could she? He didn’t know what modes of transportation they had in the future, but she wouldn’t find them here.
Here. His time. What would she do when she discovered where – when – she really was? She hadn’t been here long, but given enough time she was bound to find out. So long as she stayed on the estate, she couldn’t tell. Duncan explained to him how they got her here, hiring her on as a tutor and telling her Cozette was strange. But Tory wasn’t stupid – eventually she’d spot something their story couldn’t explain.
He reminded himself of his original challenge. Should he propose tonight, before she discovered what was really going on? Or wait a few days, court her, woo her, win her heart as Duncan suggested? Given her reaction the last time he spoke of marriage, a few days of wooing was probably in order.
He took a deep breath. He’d make sure she had a wonderful night, then invite her riding tomorrow afternoon. He could invite the Chester sisters and their brother along – a group outing would keep things on the up and up. Walks in the garden after the house party was over and the guests gone, some time reading to her in the library, tea on the lawn, maybe a game of croquet or two … he’d spend as much time with Tory as possible, get to know her and she him. Hopefully by the time she found out what was really going on, he’d have won her heart.
He gulped. Hopefully.
“Having a good time?” Cozette asked.
“Of course, Crumpet. And you?”
“I am not displeased. Will you be hunting in the morning with Duncan and the viscount?”
“No, I’m taking the earls and the marquess fishing.”
She smiled. “They are having a good time.”
He eyed her a moment. “And your other guests?”
“They will go back to London and tell everyone of their visit. Of good times, I hope.”
“Of course they will.” He eyed her again. “And will they be commenting on the return and sudden disappearance of your stammer?”
She smiled. “Duncan told me you know things now. I see no reason to pretend in front of you.”
He glanced around, making sure they were out of earshot. “Did he tell me everything?”
“No. We do not know everything. And there are some things you do not need to know.”
“But you do?”
She shrugged.
Aldrich pondered her words. “I suppose you’re right. Knowing what I do is quite enough. Thank you.”
“For what?”
He looked at their surroundings, then Tory as she danced with Bram again. “That woman out there, your cooperation with … those people.”
“The MacDonalds? They are good people.”
“I hope so. You trust them?”
“Yes.”
“I know Duncan does. And that’s good enough for me – for now.”
She cocked her head. “You’re worried.”
“Of having my children taken from me in the middle of the night?” He glanced at Tory and back. “Should I be?”
“No more than Duncan and I.”
“Yes, but you haven’t any children yet, Your Grace.”
“Nor will we for a time. But when we do, who knows?”
He drew in a breath. “Who are these people? What are they doing?”
“As we told you, we do not know everything. We … don’t want to.”
“But I do.”
Cozette looked sympathetic. “I cannot help you Aldrich. You will have to speak to Dallan.”
Aldrich returned his attention to Tory. “Oh, I intend to.”
“Ohhh, what a night.” Tory rubbed her eyes and looked at the windows to try to judge the time. Why she’d awoken so early, she didn’t know, especially since she didn’t get to bed until late. The dancing went well past midnight. If this was how things were done back in the day, then the Victorians
knew how to party. By the time everyone went to bed, it was after 3:30.
Judging from the light it had to be about nine or ten now. Tillie told her most wouldn’t crawl out of bed until the afternoon, possibly not until teatime, and that when she did get up, to ring for her maid. The servants wouldn’t come until called. What a great system! You could stay up late, sleep in late, then after an afternoon and evening of recovery and a good night’s rest, go home the following day. It was like a giant three-day sleepover with a dance. Benny would love it!
Speaking of Benny … “Oh, bother, I still need to charge my phone.” She moaned more than spoke and was glad no one was around to hear her. She got up, looked for her jeans and a T-shirt, then remembered she didn’t have them. If she was going to the village, she’d have to wear a day dress or go out to the tool shed, pray it wasn’t locked, grab some clothes, change and go. She was still too tired for that.
She crawled out of bed, found the proper undergarments and a day dress that wouldn’t make her stand out too much, then put it all on, minus the corset. “Ah, comfort at last.” She’d have to tell Becky she wasn’t wearing one of those cursed things again – it was fun for a while, but she preferred breathing normally.
She ran a brush through her hair and put it up as best she could with a few pins, grabbed a little Victorian-era purse she found in the armoire and put what money she’d found in her purse the day before into it. She stuffed her cell phone and charger in next and was ready to go. She should have enough for a cup of coffee and a donut or something – she could enjoy a light breakfast while her phone charged, then call Benny, slip back and return to bed with a book and relax.
If Aldrich was already up, then he and his fishing buddies would’ve left by now, so no sense looking for him. She’d leisurely take care of some much-needed business. It was the perfect plan for a perfect day.
Her plan held until she got to the village. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” The carnival was still going on – Becky had told her it was the last day – but this was like no carnival she was used to. No Ferris wheel, no roller coasters, no Tilt-O-Whirls. The only screaming was from an audience of children gathered around a tiny stage, where a rather violent puppet show was in progress.
