“Jim,” Annabelle prompted.
“My room’s fine,” he said gruffly.
“The view is beautiful in that wing. It’s my favorite. What did you think of it?”
“Hadn’t looked yet. I was busy this afternoon.” Sketches and blueprints scattered the floor and desk in his room, but he’d struggled to focus on the work at hand. His conversation with Ella hadn’t gone at all as he’d planned. At least the letters were in her possession again, but the kiss had rocked him. He walked miles trying to tire and calm his body. It almost worked, but her scent was on his clothes and skin, bringing back his desire for her again and again.
“We noticed. I’m glad you joined us for dinner.” Annabelle took a sip of wine. “The table is especially cheerful tonight. Such a nice mix of company.” She caught her husband’s eye across the table. Jim was used to being with Edmund and Annabelle, but the happy couple routine tonight didn’t sit well. He wanted to know Spencer’s intentions toward Ella, although from the constant attention the other man paid her, he could guess. Not while he was around.
“What’s the closest village?” Jim eyed the salmon soufflé on the plate the butler put in front of him.
“Are you in need of something?”
“No, but I might wish to take a walk tomorrow.” Maybe some shepherd’s pie in a tavern would be a good idea, too. If all the meals were going to be this formal and fancy, he’d be hungry to add to his already irritated state.
“Combe is three miles to the east.” With a woman’s sense of directions, she pointed in a direction that was clearly west.
“Good.” He stabbed the salmon with his fork, smashing it into the plate as Ella’s laughter rang across the table at him. Staring directly at her, he sought her eyes. For a second, she held his gaze, but he couldn’t read her thoughts and it nearly drove him mad.
“Ella looks well this evening,” Annabelle commented.
“Is there some reason she shouldn’t? Has she been ill?” He couldn’t hide the worry in his voice even though Annabelle would pick up on it immediately.
“No, Ella’s always been healthy as a horse. I was just thinking that the color suited her, and she appears to be in fine spirits as well.”
“Yes,” he ground out, relieved she wasn’t ill. Until Annabelle’s comment, he hadn’t noted Ella’s gown except for the fact it was cut low in the front, putting more of her on display than he’d like others to see. But not nearly as much as he’d like to see. “What color is that?” he asked to distract himself from where his thoughts were going.
“It’s called aquamarine, pale blue with a tinge of green. Very flattering with her skin tone and eyes.”
“Yes, it is.” He looked at Annabelle to take his mind off Ella, but the sisters shared so many features it didn’t help.
“I wonder about your perception of beauty,” Annabelle said, playing with her food.
“I doubt mine is different from any other man’s.”
“Your sister is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I’ve dressed the celebrated beauties of the ton in my shop. They all have some sort of flaw. Belinda doesn’t that I can tell. Having a sister like that has to affect the way you view other women.”
“Never thought about it.” He’d generally been too busy keeping men away from Belinda. Although usually successful, the one man who’d slipped through was Annabelle and Ella’s brother Heath. His death nearly crushed Belinda. In her work for Annabelle’s shop, Belinda showed the first spark of life again after mourning Heath for the past three years.
“Women do. It might make them feel insecure about their own appearance because they’ll assume your standard of beauty is quite high.”
“Why are you bringing this up?” Jim could understand the most intricate mechanical machine, but women’s brains were an entirely foreign world.
“If you’re interested in a particular female, a compliment or two would be well received.”
“You’re lovely,” Jim said in a low voice to Annabelle, “and if your husband hears me say it, I’ll lose my job.”
“I meant an unmarried lady.” Annabelle subtly tilted her head to indicate Ella and arched an eyebrow at him.
“I’m not interested in your sister.” His second blatant lie for the day. This one as much a failure as the first. Annabelle gave him a patient, indulgent smile like one might a small child who needed to be pacified.
****
Jim’s foot rested on the second step when Edmund hailed him. “No hiding. You have to go to the drawing room with the rest of the guests.”
“I have work to do if we’re going to make the deadline.” Jim kept his voice low although no one else was in the foyer. “We both should be busy.” The contract to build the first steam-powered armored frigate was within their grasp.
“An hour to be social won’t affect the outcome.”
“It might,” Jim warned. When sources leaked that the French were launching a steam-powered, ironclad warship, the Royal Navy began searching for the right builder to modernize the British fleet. Edmund’s enterprise was top on that list, but the contract couldn’t be approved until the proposed ships were fully designed. That was Jim’s job and if he was successful, he’d get what he wanted most.
“Stop worrying. You know we can do this. We just have to convince the Admiralty of our greatness.” Edmund’s confidence was an asset in a meeting but not always in the planning stages.
“In less than a week. And I’m only half done with the schematics.”
“One hour in the drawing room, then we’ll work.” Edmund guided Jim toward the room where Sophie sang while softly playing the piano.
“Your sister is talented,” Jim said, only half listening to the music while he sought out Ella in the room. She was the other reason he’d prefer to spend the evening going over blueprints and proposals. She sat on a window seat already deep in shadow. He was happy to note she was alone for the moment.
“Yes, but I wish Sophie were spoken for. I don’t like the look of these popinjays.” Edmund referred to the three young men who lounged around the piano. Annabelle raised her hand, gesturing to her husband to come to her. Left on his own, Jim leaned against the doorframe, appearing to watch no one in particular, but aware of Ella’s every movement.
She faced outside, watching the fading light on the flowers and trees. He strolled closer to her, pretending to study something far out beyond the formal gardens.
“Will you walk with me in the garden?” Her voice was so soft he barely heard it. “The night is exceptionally fine for the season.”
“Not alone.” In the darkness, he’d be unable to resist her.
“Afraid of the dark?” she teased.
“Afraid of you.”
“How could I harm you?”
“I fear it would be the other way round. I lack control where you are concerned as I think this afternoon proved. We can’t be together. Tonight or ever.”
“You made that point clear earlier.” She rose and came toward him so close that her perfume permeated the air around them. “I’ve thought through what you said about us and decided you’re right. We are of different worlds.”
He nodded in response, surprised she agreed with him after what she’d said in the rose garden. He should be pleased this entanglement with Ella was ending, but a great sense of loss clouded his thoughts.
“Since this house party was arranged to secure a husband for me,” Ella continued, “I hope you won’t do anything to prevent me from entertaining these other gentlemen.”
“Must it be one of them? I mean, you once said you wouldn’t marry without love.” He wasn’t strong enough to stand by and watch her with other men. He couldn’t have her. He understood that, but he wasn’t prepared for someone else to. His eyes shifted toward the buffoons currently flirting with Sophie. She couldn’t love any of them.
“They are all excellent choices, approved by my brother, and I suppose I shall learn to love my husband.”
“Very well,” he managed to say although his throat tightened on the words. “I promise to stay out of your sight whenever possible so that I don’t interfere with your plans.”
“Thank you for understanding.” She rested her hand on his arm for the briefest moment before joining the group at the piano. He left the room, but not before he heard her laughter as she responded to something Spencer said.
Chapter Four
September 15, 1858
Men say women are unpredictable. What nonsense! Who would have ever guessed that Jim, instead of dying of jealousy for me, has locked himself away with Edmund. They stay in the sitting room connected to Jim’s chamber from sunup to sundown with hardly a word to anyone except Richard. How am I supposed to engage the man’s sensibilities when I don’t see him?
The room remains locked whether they are in it or not and all my skill picking locks is wasted. They’ve done something so no one can get in. Listening at the door doesn’t work either. They keep their voices low so only a mumble makes its way into the hall. The frustration!
I’ve flirted outrageously with Lord Spencer for two dinners, a visit to St. James to see The Great Cathedral (which turned out to have once been held by Lord Spencer’s ancestors—the man turned into a peacock. I should really do more research before suggesting such jaunts) and a walk into town, which, thank heaven, was not alone. Sophie saved me by tagging along. Once I thought I heard a crack in the underbrush near the road and saw a figure disappear into a hollow, but I can’t say with any certainty that Jim followed me. During dinner, he steadfastly ignores me, says the minimum to his companions, and disappears immediately after the meal ends.
My great fear now is that Lord Spencer may take me seriously, although I try to avoid him unless Jim is present. He does seem to be hanging around Jim and Edmund excessively. I’ve had to detour my snooping because of Lord Spencer’s presence outside Jim’s room.
Unfortunately, my “attachment” to Lord Spencer must be convincing since Baron Edgeton has focused his attention on Sophie and Sir Eliot remains neutral with a keen eye on all of us.
Oh, how to bring Jim up to scratch and quickly?
Ella tapped her pencil against the diary’s pages and stared into space, trying to think up a plan for pursuing Jim more aggressively. Unless she could access that room and force him to notice her, his visit was a waste, and she wouldn’t get another opportunity she could foresee.
Invitations to hunt or socialize, even those initiated by Annabelle or Mary, were politely and firmly declined before Jim beat a hasty retreat to his room and his work. If she stood in the hall and screamed at the top of her lungs, he would appear and might even seem concerned until he realized she was just pretending. She’d be scolded like a child and sent away. Once again, everyone would see her for a capricious girl. How she hated that image! But how to destroy it?
A noise in the hall outside her room caught her attention. It was only four in the afternoon and Edmund walked past on his way from Jim’s room. Done early today. She cracked open her door. Through the tiny slot, she saw both Edmund and Jim. Although their voices were low, she could discern some words.
“A full day ahead of schedule. I told you not to worry so much.” Edmund stepped past her door, his eyes almost making contact with hers.
“I’d like to go over the plans one more time,” Jim said, anxiety lacing his words.
“Leave it.” Edmund halted just outside her room and raised his voice slightly. “We’re ready for the presentation, which gives us tomorrow to enjoy ourselves.”
“Or to review it all from beginning to end.” Despite his grumpy tone and general dishevelment, his handsome, careworn face made her heart ping around in her chest.
“I’m having Richard lock it away this afternoon so you can’t fuss anymore. I’m sure the ladies have something planned to amuse the guests. You are a guest,” Edmund reminded him.
“I’m not interested in being entertained.”
“You’ve been permitted to sequester yourself because Richard and Mary understand business is important, but choosing to separate yourself will be perceived as rude. Tomorrow, you enjoy a fall day in the country and do whatever the activity is. No argument, understand?”
“Are you my employer or my friend when you say that?”
“I’m always your friend regardless of the situation, and as you well know, you’re more my partner than my employee. I wish you’d get that through your skull.”
“Someday,” Jim grumbled, walking away and disappearing down the stairs.
Edmund lingered near her door and waited until Jim’s footsteps receded. “I suggest the Roman Ruins at North Leigh for tomorrow’s excursion,” Edmund said, addressing the carpet. “The engineer in him won’t be able to resist all those straight lines and intricate details.”
Ella opened her door wider, leaning forward to kiss her brother-in-law on the cheek. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Only don’t distract him too much. I need him at his best on Thursday, and your performance with Lord Spencer is under his skin.”
“Delightful,” she said. Edmund was a perceptive man. She wasn’t surprised he’d seen through her plan. “Does he think I’m serious? Is he jealous?”
“Terribly, but I can’t guarantee he’ll act on it.”
“I’ll use my opportunity tomorrow wisely. By the way, what happens on Thursday?”
“Your mother arrives, of course,” Edmund quipped, grinning.
“Somehow I don’t think you’ve spent days in seclusion preparing for my mother and Lady Bedham to arrive.”
Edmund only smiled and moved away toward his wife’s room.
****
Contriving to be in the right carriage proved more difficult than convincing Jim to join the excursion to the ruins. It took Annabelle only a brief description of a preserved mosaic floor and evidence of several Roman buildings and Jim was eager to go. But the carriage situation! At first, Ella thought it might be best to be alone with Lord Spencer in the barouche, but he’d started to paw at her too much for that. Then, she decided she and Sophie should have the company of Baron Edgeton and Lord Spencer.
As it turned out, the gentlemen, excepting Jim, opted to ride the six miles, leaving Jim in the barouche with Sophie, Annabelle, and Ella. Not a tragedy, but not ideal for romance or intrigue. Her friend and sister were far too nice to Jim for her purposes, and she couldn’t bring herself to torment him other than one or two comments on how well Lord Spencer rode and allowing him to take her hand when he came alongside the carriage. Throughout the performance, Jim ignored her and remained in conversation with Annabelle. The man was difficult. Charming, masculine, attractive, and capable of making her toes tingle, but difficult nonetheless.
She slumped in her seat, glaring at him for the last mile, but he took no notice of her. True to his word, he wouldn’t stand in the way of her throwing herself at some other man. But all she could think about was sitting on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, and never letting go.
“May I escort you, Annabelle?” Jim asked when the carriage stopped.
“I think Edmund and I will stroll around together. You’re welcome to join us, of course, but I thought you might accompany Ella. I know Sophie has agreed to view the ruins with Sir Eliot and the other gentlemen are more interested in their mounts than history.” Lord Spencer and Baron Edgeton raced past them like jockeys at Newcastle.
“I’m afraid I might bore Lady Ella as I’ll inspect every brick. Habit, you know,” he apologized, stepping down from the carriage and handing each lady to the ground.
“I shan’t be bored by that.” Ella was last out and kept her hand in his longer than necessary. “I haven’t been here in ages and would love to see it through the eyes of someone who appreciates the work needed to create it.” She caught herself from staring adoringly at him and straightened her face into a neutral but polite expression.
“That settles it then.” Annabelle walked with Sophie t
o join the gentlemen, leaving Ella and Jim.
“Shall we?” He gestured to the vertical lines of the ruins and held his arm toward her, but his eyes focused somewhere over her head as though looking at her would be the equivalent of falling down a badger hole.
As they strolled in the ruins of what had been a Roman villa six centuries ago, Ella’s gown trailed along gravel paths between the bases of stone walls.
“It must have been a fine place,” she commented, eager for him to speak even if it was about nothing but building material.
“Indeed.” He relinquished her arm, dropping to one knee. He dusted off a brick, running his fingers slowly around its edge.
What was she to do? He kneeled at her feet in the position a suitor might propose from, but he disregarded her presence. Was her plan working a little too well? Was he convinced she didn’t care for him and could never consider an alliance with a man who worked for a living? She sighed. She didn’t mean for the sound to be so loud and conspicuous, but it crept out.
“I’m dreary company as I predicted when I’m at a building site,” he said, keeping his face averted.
“No. You could never be dreary company to me.” Oops! She scrunched her brow. Not what one says when trying to discourage a man.
He rose, coming very close and towering over her. The sun behind his head blinded her to his expression, but he swore softly and said, “I knew this was a mistake. I should have stayed at the house.”
“But there are so many things here to hold your interest,” she said quickly, not wanting to lose his companionship. “The remains of the mosaic floor are quite spectacular.”
“Perhaps you would enjoy yourself more with Sophie and her escort.” Jim managed a wave, almost friendly toward Sophie and Sir Eliot walking together on the opposite side of the ruins.
Sophie cocked her head to the left, twirling her parasol slowly. One of the many signs the friends used to rescue each other from undesirable attention during their first season. Sophie signaled, “Shall I interfere?” Collapsing her own parasol and sticking the end sharply in the ground, Ella communicated back the “stay clear” message.
Unforgettable Heroes II Boxed Set Page 194
