by Emily Bow
I pressed my lips together. My lack of incoming funds hadn’t bothered her in all the months prior. Pretty much, it hadn’t bothered her up until the moment her son went on a date with me.
Money was a touchy topic for me, not one I was brought up to talk about. Few people I grew up with had any money themselves. Their parents had money. Both my parents worked, and they did well, and they didn’t spend a lot. But their work wasn’t about money, they loved their jobs.
Financially speaking, Dad’s job paid okay, but the books he wrote about his experiences and his lectures paid more. And Mom was a renowned neurologist. She did very well.
Grad school was paid for when I was ready. I didn’t need what the duchess was about to offer me and taking a salary would put me in an awkward position, because that made her son my boss, and I wouldn’t date the boss. “I’m volunteering. Being here will look nice on my grad school applications.” I was already accepted into a program. “Thanks though. The privilege of working with these artifacts is reward enough for me.” That was gracious enough.
“Jobs also look good on college applications, I’m sure.”
How would she know? “I don’t need the money or the restrictions.” There, I put my business out there. Well, some of it anyway. I wished Lily or the professor would return and take the attention off me. Or even Billy with another load of boxes.
“How…I don’t know…free-living of you. To not concern yourself with money and restrictions, things the rest of us require.”
I took a sip of my bottled water, recapped it, and eyed her over the top without saying anything. She was borderline name-calling, but she remained on this side of polite.
The duchess moved closer to the worktable. “Do you think there’s shame in taking money for a job well done?”
I took another sip of my bottled water.
She kept walking until she was right in front of me and looked me in the eye with her crisp green assessing gaze. “Are you saying, if I offered you three thousand pounds for your work here, you would turn your back on the money?”
Chapter 28
The duchess was standing in front of my worktable offering me a bribe.
Heat flushed my neck and my fingers crumpled the bottle. I could imagine what a few thousand pounds meant to the average college grad. “Feel free to increase Billy’s wages or talk to Lily and her mom, but I’m not interested.”
The duchess lowered her voice. “Some say there is liability, hidden liability, in having unsecured workers on the premises. And if the amount were 5000? For a, let’s say, ‘thank you for a job well done’ send off?”
It was as if all the dust from all the artifacts in the castle covered my skin. I rose and put the bottle down. “I think I’ll take a little break.” And I could, without her permission, because I didn’t work for her. I walked to the door.
“Imogen, dear, to understand. If the amount were 10,000 pounds, you’re saying…”
I turned my head and looked at her over my shoulder keeping a reign on my anger. “I’m saying I don’t want your pound notes. I won’t take your money.” She looked so cynical. She probably thought I was trying to get even more by marrying her son. “I’m sure Thorn appreciates your vetting all his friends.” I was sure he didn’t. “But I’m not interested.”
The duchess frowned and looked as though she were trying to grasp an especially difficult math problem. “Is it the amount?”
“Shocker, I know. But I have money. And ethics.” I threw out my hands and slowed my voice and kept walking backwards. “I’m a total trust fund brat. I don’t need your bribe.”
Thump. I bumped into Thorn, skirted around him, and left.
***
I went for a run and showered. My run hadn’t given me any answers, and I wanted to pretend the whole upsetting argument hadn’t happened. That this wouldn’t escalate, and things would go back to the way they had been. I wore my wet hair up in a clip, put on slacks, a navy blouse, and flats, making more of an effort because dressing like a typical student here had put me at a disadvantage. I could do better.
I returned but peeked around the workroom door before going in.
Lily was alone with her mother. Lily had her arms over her t-shirt covered chest and the professor was talking quietly to her. I didn’t think less of Lily for wearing a t-shirt, but I hadn’t been raised here. I interrupted them to ask Lily a quick question about computer access, to make her relax.
After Lily answered me, I gave a quick look toward the professor, and I gestured to Lily. “Thorn invited Lily and me to The Dinner. As his guests. He did that when I told him I wouldn’t be working the table.” I faced Lily. “As you’re invited too, it’s your choice as to whether you want to go, or not. Or work the function, or not.”
Lily’s expression eased. “They found other servers?”
“Got me.”
Professor McCrary made a sound.
Lily scrunched her face. “Who all is going to be there? What would we wear if we were guests?”
Professor McCrary cleared her throat. “I believe I arranged…”
I looked hard at her, using one of Dad’s expressions, as if I were on solid ground and not shifting pebbles. “Yes?”
Professor McCrary took off her glasses. “Er. Yes, I believe I arranged for you girls to help. For the project’s sake.”
I looked straight at her. “There is nothing about serving dinner in my volunteer description.”
The professor rolled her eyes. “Your generation.” She huffed out a breath. “You two do as you like.”
Fine. She could think that all she wanted. This wasn’t about anything except the duchess trying to control who her son dated. It was about class warfare. It was Britain versus America. And the Brits who knew their history, knew how that turned out.
***
I knew right away I’d dressed wrong. The female ballroom guests wore cocktail dresses, and the guys wore suits. I’d come prepared though. I wore a fitted above-the-knee black dress, high-necked, short-sleeved with a blazer over the top. The blazer was the ruining feature. I shrugged out of the jacket and felt the chill through the triangular cutouts in the back of my dress. The triangles took the dress from conservative to cocktail.
Lily and I had talked over the event beforehand. We’d scanned the headlines for fun topics, we chose careful outfits, and we planned to circulate rather than stand in the corner with only each other. We’d show them we could handle ourselves at their level or fail trying.
During the cocktail hour as people arrived, I performed a figure-eight pattern, weaving through the room and meeting everyone while avoiding the duchess. Luckily, the sheer fact that we were in a castle and going through its contents made a great icebreaker. After that, I encouraged people to talk about themselves which most people liked especially as I was sincerely interested.
The evening was going okay. Better than it should have been, given the pressure I felt.
I circled into a group with a middle-aged couple with two teenage sons and a guy in a well-cut dark suit. They epitomized the groups at this party. Well-to-do, aged teens through much older people, no small kids, mostly British. “Hi, I’m Imogen Arundel. One of the volunteers cataloguing the castle artifacts. I’m from Houston.”
They gave their names, and the mom of the teenagers said, “Arundel? Ah, help. American. Houston you said? And Arundel? How do I know that name?”
The dapper-suited guy looked at her impatiently. “Of course, you know the name. She has to be related to Reese Arundel. Captain ‘Ride’ Arundel. At NASA.”
I nodded. “He’s my father.” Saying my dad was a pilot was one thing, but outright denying him when he was brought up to me was another. I wouldn’t do that.
The man went on to detail Dad’s exploits with such thoroughness that only he and I were left standing when the dinner bell rang.
I didn’t mind. I loved when someone was enthusiastic about my parents’ achievements. After the ego-bruising I’d ha
d this week, it was nice to be on the positive end of personal feedback, even when the accomplishments weren’t mine. Then again, these were Brits. They were all about inherited accomplishments.
“May my wife and I escort you in?” the well-dressed man whose name was Oliver asked. “My wife knows of my slight interest in this topic. We’ll have to hunt her down to join us.”
Thorn took my hand. “I’m afraid I have to steal Imogen away a minute, but we’ll see you inside.”
My fingers tightened on his. I’d seen only glimpses of him as he performed hosting duties and could guess we wouldn’t be sat together. His mother wouldn’t even have to manipulate the seating chart for that to happen. Most formal parties didn’t seat couples together. Maybe because couples bickered, or only talked to each other. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t done. Or maybe I wouldn’t be sat with Thorn because of rank…he had some and I didn’t.
But here he was, holding my hand.
We were in the crowd, and then we weren’t, I was following him, pleased to be near him, proud to be his partner. He opened a panel door in the hallway, and then we were in a small corridor I hadn’t seen previously. The narrow passageway had mild lighting, wall tapestries, and a handful of paintings. The place appeared to be a private passageway.
He pulled me to him and kissed me.
Chapter 29
The wild sweet kiss that made me throw my arms around his neck and sink into him. His teeth teased my bottom lip until I opened to him, and I wanted more. I clutched his shoulders and then dropped my hands to his waist.
Thorn tugged me closer, then he pulled away.
It was like having the smallest sip of the loveliest drink and having the crystal flute taken away.
Thorn took my hand and led me around the corner, through another door, and somehow, we were walking together alongside the other guests heading to the dining area. I was flushed, confused and muddled and so pleased by the stolen kiss I could barely keep from pressing to his side. His thumb caressed my palm before letting go. I simply wanted to grab him back.
Other guests merged alongside us aiming to get a word with Thorn. I breathed in and distanced myself a step. Tonight I had to share him.
“Do tell me, what does your father think of our Mars expeditions?” Oliver said. “What does he say a spacewalk truly feels like? What’s the first thing he wants to do each time he lands back on earth again?”
I gave practiced responses along with a little more detailed as we walked to the dining room. We gave our names to staff and were escorted to the head of the table. Thorn sat at one end of the table. Oliver was seated on his right, and then me.
The duchess sat at the other end of the table, and each guest was behind a placard that held his or her name.
Oliver did the introductions on our end of the table. He was an extrovert who seemed to know everyone. He paused as he finished my intro. “And none of you can guess what her father does for a living.”
Thorn looked at me. “He’s a pilot.”
Oliver shook his head. “That’s too modest. Astronaut Ride Arundel is so much more than a pilot.”
Thorn arched his eyebrows.
Thorn’s surprise made me feel a little odd for not telling him about my dad before tonight.
The guest across from me gushed. “Have you held a moon rock?”
“Yes.” I smiled at her. “But enough about me, guys. Tell me about you.”
She did.
Multiple formally served courses followed, and the conversation flowed. I’d worried that Oliver would only talk about space, but he kept the conversation going in a congenial manner with everyone at our end of the table. Though, anytime the conversation lagged, Oliver looped the talk back to space.
Everyone in our grouping was new to me besides Thorn. Of all the people at the dinner besides the hosts, I only recognized Lily, the professor, who I hadn’t realized was coming, and Sebastian with his sister Regina.
Regina gave me periodic glares from her position seated at the middle of the table. Her first glare was during the Waldorf salad. It was small and pointed, noting my location. During the gazpacho soup, her glower included an up-down glance that judged my hair and outfit. Over the roast duck, I got an eye-roll. I was not sure why though. I’d given up on figuring her out.
She and Thorn weren’t together. I couldn’t imagine them together. Of course, before tonight, I hadn’t imagined I’d be having dinner down here with the duchess’s fifty closest friends.
For dessert, the duchess had settled on something less traditional. We all moved into another room that had various short and tall round tables decked with tiny desserts. I liked the arrangement because the location got us moving again, and if people had to depart early, they could easily slip out. But no one seemed to be leaving. People were enjoying the castle. I’d seen more than one bright-eyed stare at the crystal shining under the sparkling chandeliers.
I had Oliver and his wife laughing over one of Dad’s Russian training stories when the duchess joined us, looking elegant in a flowing olive-green silk gown trimmed in gold.
“And that’s why we all know enough Russian to find an exit.” I brought the story to an end and my group chuckled.
“And is your mother involved with the space program, too?” Oliver’s wife asked.
“No, but my youngest sister hopes to be.”
The duchess blinked. “And how is your father involved in our space program? Is that what brought you to England beyond our little project?”
“Not ours,” Oliver said. “NASA. Her father is Astronaut Ride Arundel.”
The duchess’s eyebrows arched.
Another lady joined us. She had a similar elegance as the duchess but was about thirty years her senior. She wore gray silk with a cashmere wrap on top. “Do forgive me for joining you.”
“Nonsense, Lady Canbury.” The duchess smiled at her. “We were discussing Ride Arundel. Imogen’s father, who I’m embarrassed to admit, I’ve never heard of. What tales of Devon can you regale us with?”
Lady Canbury’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, I know that name. He’s the husband of Dr. Arundel.” She nodded at me. “Your mother is going to fix our brains with stem cells.”
I smiled. “She’s going to try.”
Lady Canbury pointed at Oliver. “As fascinating as the planets are, dear Oliver, neuroscience is far more revolutionary in my book. Imogen, you must join me at the trifle station and tell me more.”
I moved to her side.
“Wait, wait, one more moment Imogen,” Oliver said. “It’s terribly brazen of me, but I texted one of my colleagues in Swindon that you were here. He insists he’s asked you to speak during the next spacewalk. But that you turned him down. Terribly pushy of me to ask again, I know. But he insists I bring it up in person. Say you’ll consider his offer, or he’ll kick me off the board.”
I nodded without agreeing and followed Lady Canbury to the trifle station to talk of Mom’s work.
As the evening wound down, Regina came up to me. She hadn’t talked to me all night, but I wasn’t sorry. I’d had a nice time. Not fun like at a friend’s party, but like one of my parents’ dinner parties when they invited interesting guests. Now, I was ready to head back to my room. More time alone with Thorn wasn’t happening at this event, not with all his hosting duties.
Regina got in my path. “You don’t even know who you were talking to, do you?” She made it sound like a crime.
I looked at Regina, and not for the first time, wished I’d never met her. Or at least never met her at the pub, under those circumstances. Now Regina was going off on me for talking to a lady about Mom’s work. I could not imagine how that was offensive to her. “Lady Canbury.”
“Lady Canbury.” Regina mocked my American accent. She put one hand on her hip and examined her pink cocktail as if the rosy liquid were about to reveal my answer to her. “No. Not Lady Canbury. Are you playing dumb? Or do you really not know?”
There was no way to answer
that.
“You were hogging the Earl of Pembigh all night.”
Why was she making a fuss over an earl? Thorn was a duke. Then again, I knew why Regina was poking at me. I’d blended in with her world, succeeded, and enjoyed myself. “Who’s the Earl of Pembigh?” I’d only hung out with one guy all night. I shook my head. “Oliver?”
“Oliver?” Regina sneered my use of his first name. “All your dreams came through tonight, didn’t they? You dined with a duke and an earl.”
Pretty girl, in a pretty peach cocktail dress, but with so much negativity on the inside. “Those were never my dreams, Regina.” I frowned and looked around at the remaining guests, the silks, the sparkling jewels, the couples. I was standing here alone with Regina. This wasn’t my dream, so what was I doing here? I was here for Thorn, but he wasn’t here with me.
Chapter 30
A new email came from the UK Space Agency the next day. The problem was that this one was directly from Oliver to me, and the message was full of enthusiasm about Dad. He wanted me to answer a brief Q&A on what being the daughter of an astronaut was like.
Stress tightened my shoulders, and I could think of a million reasons to refuse, but I could think of none that were legitimate. I typed “yes” because Oliver had been too enthusiastic a guy to say no to. I noted the date and time of the event. Of course, they’d offered the three dates when NASA planned for Dad to perform spacewalks.
The first day, I’d be worried, the second day, I’d have imagined every type of disaster. By the third day, I’d be in a type of denial, pretending Dad was still home in Houston. I’d better go with day one. I clicked out of the cataloguing database and opened the computer’s calendar program.
I hadn’t even needed a calendar until today. That had been one of the best things about being out of school, no tight schedules. I clicked on October to insert the event.
Password Required appeared.
Grr. I bit my lip. Why did a calendar need a password? I simply wanted a friendly reminder to pop up on screen for me.
