An Unexpected Gentleman

by Laura Beers

  An Unexpected

  Gentleman

  A Twickenham Time Travel Romance

  By:

  Laura Beers

  Copyright © 2018 by Laura Beers

  Cover Art by Blue Water Books

  Edition License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Chapter 1

  May 2018

  Clutching the keys to her family’s historic Boston brownstone in her hand, Amelia Wright hastily unlocked her door and pushed it open.

  “Goodnight, Brian.” She tossed the words over her shoulder, attempting to close the door as quickly as possible.

  Her tall, lanky date put his hand out and stopped the door, apparently not taking the hint. As he leaned against the jamb, he grinned suggestively, revealing something stuck between his top front teeth.

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he prompted, his tongue wetting his chapped bottom lip.

  She reluctantly turned back towards him and debated jabbing him in the throat with her keys, thus ending the night on a high note. Instead, sanity prevailed, and she offered him a tight smile.

  “No, I don’t think that would be the best idea.”

  His blue eyes perused her face, making her decidedly uncomfortable. “This may be our first official date, but we both can feel the chemistry between us.” He stepped closer to her, his black Birkenstocks crossing the threshold of the door. “All the residents at the hospital told me not to waste my time since you’re married to your work.” His eyes darted towards her lips. “However, I find your aloofness incredibly… sexy.”

  “I see.” Amelia folded her arms across her burgundy cashmere sweater. “Tell me, do the other residents think I’m ‘aloof’ as well?”

  “They sure do,” Brian blundered on. “But they’re just jealous because you’re the top obstetrics resident.” Unbelievably, he started to lean in towards her.

  Was that supposed to pass for a compliment? Amelia shook her head as she put up her hand to stop him from advancing further. “Goodnight.” Her tone left no room for argument.

  He threw his hands in the air and protested, “I bought you dinner tonight!”

  Reaching into the depths of her black Prada handbag, she pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and held it out to him. “Keep the change.”

  After an awkward pause, Brian grabbed the money and shoved it into the pocket of his green cargo shorts. “You are just like the other residents said. I don’t know why I bothered.”

  Feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, Amelia’s reply dripped with sarcasm. “Did you bother? After all, I thoroughly enjoyed our romantic dinner at Taco Bell.”

  He frowned. “I guess I’ll see you around the hospital.” Shaking his head, he turned and stomped towards the black, iron fence that lined the shallow front yard of her brownstone. He slammed the gate shut, the angry reverberations echoing through the quiet street.

  Good heavens, that was awkward, Amelia thought. Closing the door, she latched the bolt and tossed her keys onto the side table in the receiving foyer. She kicked off her Louboutin heels as she heaved a sigh. Walking barefoot across the polished hardwood floor, she took the hair tie from around her wrist and placed her thick, wavy, brown hair into a ponytail.

  Climbing the narrow staircase, her steps faltered as she saw her reflection in the Palladian window. She may have inherited her father’s piercing green eyes, but she was the spitting image of her mother with high cheekbones, full lips, and a fair complexion. Over the years, many men had vied for her attention, but she wasn’t interested. Her focus had always been excelling in medical school and becoming the best doctor she could be. Above all, she wanted to make her parents proud.

  She walked up the last few steps, reached the parlor level, and headed towards the living room, hoping to speak to her mother before she went to bed.

  The housekeeper, Mrs. Lopez, emerged from the kitchen and greeted her. “How are you, Miss Amelia?”

  “I am well, now that I’m home, thank you.” Amelia smiled at the aged housekeeper. “Is my mother still awake?”

  “She is. I was just about to get Mrs. Lottie her bedtime snack,” Mrs. Lopez said, waving back towards the kitchen.

  Amelia followed her and watched as the housekeeper reached into the freezer, pulled out a carton of ice cream and dished it into two bowls.

  Opening a drawer, Amelia grabbed two spoons and placed them into the bowls. “Is Dustin gone for the evening?”

  “You mean Lord Wessex?”

  She huffed in amusement. “I have no idea why my mother refers to Dustin as ‘Lord Wessex’.”

  “He left after dinner.” Mrs. Lopez extended a bowl towards Amelia. “I do not think I have seen a more dedicated nurse than him.”

  Amelia nodded. “I agree. He’s been a blessing to Mom. You both have.”

  Picking up the other bowl, Mrs. Lopez laughed as she started towards the south-facing living room with a floor-to-ceiling, stone fireplace. “You best not let Mrs. Lottie hear you call her ‘Mom’.”

  She laughed. “I know. She prefers it when I call her ‘Mum’.”

  Her mother’s voice spoke up from the white couch. “Of course, I do. After all, you are half British, my dear.”

  “And, according to Father, I am half civilized,” Amelia teased.

  “It’s true,” the aging Lottie Wright agreed from her perch on the leather couch. She accepted the bowl of ice cream and thanked her housekeeper with old-world graciousness. Then she turned her attention to her daughter. “How was your date?”

  Amelia plopped down on an overstuffed white leather chair as Mrs. Lopez slipped out of the room. “It was horrible.” She spooned a bite of chocolate heaven into her mouth and let it melt before continuing, “I don’t know why I let you talk me into going on a date with Brian Hostetter.”

  “Because Brian’s mother was one of my dearest friends during my days at university,” her mother explained, pointing her spoon at Amelia. “I do hope you were nice to him.”

  Amelia paused, her spoon hovering above the bowl. She prodded cautiously, “And do you remember where you attended university, Mum?”

  Placing a hand to her forehead, her mother’s expression became confused. “I don’t remember.”

  “You went to Oxford,” she reminded her gently.

  “Yes, I remember now,” her mother exclaimed proudly. “And Brian’s mother was named Olivia. We were flatmates.”

  Tapping the spoon against her lips, Amelia jested, “I think it is time for you to make new friends.”

  “Oh, dear. The date was that bad?”

  “I don’t know why I bothered,” she muttered, scooping up the last bite. “Gentlemen don’t exist anymore.”

  Her mother gave her a wry look. “How would you know? This was your first date since you started Harvard Medical School, and that was almost seven years ago.”

  “I don’t have time to date, Mum,” Amelia explained for the thousandth time. “Besides, I won’t settle for anything less than what you and Father had.”

  “Perhaps you will fall madly in love with an English gentleman on our holiday,” her mother teased as she placed the empty bowl on the stand beside her. “After all, I fell in love with an American on one of my journeys abroad.”

  Frowning, Amelia eyed her mother’s withered frame, but it was the dimming light in her once-bright e
yes that frightened her most of all. Charlotte Wright was in the moderate stages of Alzheimer’s, but she had other health troubles as well. Happily, her mother was lucid right now, but there were times that she seemed to forget her own name. “I still think this vacation is a bad idea.”

  “Pish-posh,” her mother dismissed Amelia’s concerns with a wave. “I must say goodbye to my dear friend, Aunt Nellie.”

  “You could just call her and save all the hassle of flying to England,” Amelia, ever the practical daughter, attempted again.

  “We must go back to Twickenham Manor for the monthly Full Moon Ball,” her mother insisted, then lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “That is where the magic is.”

  “Yes, Mum,” Amelia sighed, knowing this was a losing battle. “But I’ll be monitoring your vitals constantly.”

  Her mother smiled fondly at her. “It’s a good thing I am traveling with my talented doctor daughter.”

  Amelia rose and returned her smile. “May I help you back to your room?”

  Her mother shook her head. “No, I wish to stay up a little longer.”

  “Don’t stay up too late,” Amelia warned. “We are catching an early flight to London tomorrow.”

  “I remember.”

  She went and kissed her mother’s wrinkly cheek before heading to her bedroom upstairs. After changing into her pajamas, she curled up on the tufted seat of her bay window, staring out over Boston’s night skyline.

  Amelia’s heart constricted at the reminder that her mother’s time on this earth was coming to an end. Her parents, Devon and Charlotte Wright, had married later in life, and their only daughter wasn’t born until they were in their mid-40’s. Not that she was complaining, because she’d had a perfect childhood. Her parents had always been attentive, loving, and kind. Her thoughts stilled, and her lower lip quivered as she remembered her father.

  He had been one of the top orthopedic surgeons in Boston when the accident had cut his life short. Her father had been called in for an emergency surgery and was traveling to the hospital when a driver ran through a red light, causing his car to flip. He’d died on the scene. Suddenly, the life that Lottie and Amelia had known was over.

  Now, only a few years later, her mother had been diagnosed with congestive heart failure, but Amelia suspected she was dying more from a broken heart. She leaned her head against the cool window pane and sighed. When her mother passed, Amelia would be left alone in this vast, highly-desirable brownstone in Boston. In the current real estate market, as Amelia was aware, the house would fetch at least ten million dollars. But the thought of such a staggering sum meant nothing to Amelia. No amount of money would ever replace her mother. She blinked back the tears forming in her eyes.

  Reaching under a pillow, she removed her well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. It was a first edition copy, signed by Jane Austen herself. No matter what she chose to do with the house, Amelia knew that she would never part with this priceless family heirloom. It was, ironically, inscribed to another woman nicknamed Lottie.

  Slowly, Amelia ran her fingers over the green morocco label and gilt tooling on the cover before she opened the book and traced her mother’s name in black ink. Her mother used to share stories of how she was friends with Jane and even claimed that she helped brainstorm the book idea of Emma with her. She smiled, knowing her mother always had a vivid imagination.

  Tucking her feet under herself on the window seat, she clutched the book to her chest, gazing at the lights of Boston’s Longwood Medical Area. For the past seven years, she had practically lived at that facility, going through the grueling demands of Harvard Medical School. Now, she was a third-year resident in obstetrics.

  Amelia should have been excited by the prospect of her future, but instead, her heart ached at the gnawing loneliness she felt daily. Since her father was gone, and her own mother sometimes failed to recognize her, she felt… lost.

  The next day, the black cab rolled up to the main entrance of Twickenham Manor, and Amelia felt the smile on her face grow at the flood of happy memories surrounding this estate. From an early age, her family would travel to London to participate in the Regency Immersion package offered here. Although these kinds of packages hadn’t been commonly offered elsewhere for very long, Twickenham Manor had been offering them for more than a hundred years.

  Exiting the cab, Amelia put up her hand to shade her eyes, admiring the massive towers and battlements of the four-story, pristinely white mansion that was almost a castle. She hopped over to her mother’s side and opened the cab door as the driver unloaded their luggage from the hatchback.

  After tipping the cab driver, Amelia started wheeling the two large suitcases towards the main door while her mother kept her gaze firmly on the Manor. “Every time I see this place, it is no less impressive,” her mother stated. She wore the wistful smile of one who has returned home after a long absence.

  As they sauntered into the main foyer, Amelia could not help but be intrigued by the ornate woodwork, bold, red-papered walls and elaborate gold ceilings. Red velvet settees sat in alcoves, and a Turkish rug the size of a skating rink ran the length of the hall. “This entire estate looks as if it was plucked out of the 1800s,” Amelia expressed as she admired the window coverings.

  “Lottie Wright!” Aunt Nellie exclaimed as she bustled into the foyer from a side door.

  As Amelia watched the beautiful lady cross the room to greet her mother, she smiled. She had always called her “Aunt Nellie,” even though she knew they weren’t related. Cocking her head, she attempted to pinpoint her exact age, but Nellie could have been thirty or sixty, for all she knew. She appeared ageless. Her face held no wrinkles, but her eyes spoke of extreme wisdom and wit. She dressed in classic, timeless clothing and wore her hair in simple, short waves that framed her face perfectly. Not a hint of the infirmities of age slowed her graceful steps, although Amelia knew she must be older than she appeared. Aunt Nellie stepped back from embracing her mother and turned her gaze towards her.

  “Amelia.” She smiled that same bright smile that seemed to light up any room.

  Leaving the luggage, she went and embraced Nellie. Even though they were not related, this lady held a special place in her heart. “Aunt Nellie, it is so good to see you! I did not think it was possible, but you seem younger than when I last saw you over seven years ago.”

  “It must be because of my good doctors.” Aunt Nellie winked, her bright blue eyes snapping with mischief. “Now, my darlings, I have set you both up in your usual rooms. They are fully stocked with gowns, slippers, fans, and everything you need for the Regency Immersion Experience.”

  Removing the cellphone from her back pocket, Amelia tucked it into her purse while saying, “Please say that I will not be required to attend the classes or read any of the manuals that ensure I have a full understanding of the Regency times and customs.”

  Aunt Nellie gave her an understanding smile. “Considering you came every summer faithfully until you started Harvard, I think you can forego the training.”

  “Thank you,” Amelia replied. “And do I really need to wear a corset?”

  “Don’t push it, young lady,” Aunt Nellie admonished, winking again to let her know that she was teasing. “I know you both must be famished, but the Full Moon Ball is in a few hours. Why don’t you head up to your rooms and rest until it is time to dress for dinner?”

  “Do you suppose any old friends will be popping in for a visit while we’re here?” Lottie asked, her rheumy eyes roaming the portraits on the wall.

  Aunt Nellie reached over and placed her arm around Lottie’s shoulders. “One could only hope, but let’s get you to your room, shall we?”

  Keeping her pace respectfully slow behind them, Amelia heard her mother say, “I don’t think my body could handle time travel anymore, Nellie.”

  “I believe you may be right, dear,” Aunt Nellie murmured, patting her friend’s shoulder as the trio made their way down the galleried hall.

&n
bsp; Amelia stifled a sigh, knowing that her mother wasn’t mentally there. She hoped a rest would break her out of her fantasy. Suddenly, Lottie stopped the procession and turned her head to look for her daughter. “I do hope for your sake that Lord Harrington will be here tonight.”

  “Who is Lord Harrington, Mum?” she asked, utterly bewildered.

  A girlish smile came to Lottie’s lips, and her eyes sparkled. “Ooh, he is a handsome earl, whose lands border Twickenham Manor to the east.”

  Amelia tried to recall a time when her mother had talked about a Lord Harrington, but she couldn’t think of one. “Did you meet him when you were studying at Oxford, perhaps?” she asked, prodding her mother’s memory. Nellie wordlessly guided her longtime friend further along the hall as mother and daughter continued their odd conversation.

  Lottie shook her head. “When I was out for a ride, I saw him, standing in the water, staring out into the River Thames,” her mother revealed. “He was wracked with grief at the loss of his wife, poor soul.”

  “Was this before you married Father?”

  “Oh, no, it was after,” her mother stated, matter-of-factly.

  Surprised, Amelia lifted her brow.

  Lottie sighed and continued, “I spent three unforgettable weeks with Lord Harrington, but it was many, many years ago.”

  Stopping at an open door, Aunt Nellie said, “We have arrived at your room, Lottie. Why don’t you go lie down, and I will send up some refreshment?”

  Her mother nodded before disappearing into her room. After a moment, Amelia ventured, “I am sorry about my mother. She doesn’t appear very lucid right now.”

  “Don’t be,” Aunt Nellie assured her in a low voice. “Lottie and I are dear friends, but my heart is troubled by her aging body and mind.” Her eyes trailed towards the open door. “I am just grateful that you called beforehand to explain her condition. She has aged considerably since her last visit to us two years ago.”

  Tightening her hold on the handles of the suitcases, Amelia replied, “Mum was adamant about attending your Full Moon Ball this summer.”