Loveswept

by Murray, Tamela Hancock

  He sighed. He must be lonely to talk to his horses. And in public, at that.

  Eyeing a portly man dressed in a morning suit, he recognized the man as Mr. Wilson, a prospect who had turned him down cold just two days before. Nevertheless, Averil smiled and tipped his hat. He always made a point to be friendly to everyone, even those who turned down a chance to buy a renovator. “My good old-fashioned pump model has served me well for twenty years,” Mr. Wilson had said. “And I imagine it’ll serve me another twenty just as fine.”

  Averil had left Mr. Wilson a business card all the same. As soon as he was out of earshot, Averil told his horses, “He’ll be back. Just you wait and see.”

  Major whinnied.

  “Good boy. I can see we will get along splendidly.”

  Averil’s mood dampened as he pulled up to the Eatons’ drive. If only he felt as cheerful as he tried to portray by his expression. As much as he wished he could ask Mr. Eaton for the privilege of courting Cecily, he couldn’t. He would not interfere in her commitments.

  Averil tied the horses to the hitching post, opened the wagon door, and lugged the machine out the back. For the tenth time, he resolved not to promise that the renovator was light as a feather. Perhaps it was light in comparison to older models, but. . .

  “Do you need some help with that, Mr. Kingsley?”

  ❧

  “Oh!” Augusta’s voice rang through the house. “Look who’s talking to Mr. Kingsley!”

  “He’s here?” Cecily jumped from her perch on the piano bench. She had been practicing “Oh for a Thousand Tongues to Sing” to play in church the following week while the organist, Mrs. Watson, planned to be away visiting her daughter in Alexandria.

  Without a moment’s pause, she ran to the window. Augusta was sitting backward on the couch, propped up on both knees, a posture she had used to spy out the window ever since she was a child. Feeling rather childish herself for spying on activities taking place on her own front lawn, Cecily joined her sister in an identical pose.

  “Of course he’s here. He was supposed to deliver the carpet renovator today, remember?”

  Cecily swallowed. She remembered.

  “I wonder what Professor Tobias is saying to him?”

  Cecily studied the slight figure beside Averil. Though she had at first thought him short, Averil looked like Goliath in comparison to the diminutive music teacher. And what a handsome Goliath indeed! As always, Averil cut a fine figure in his business suit and derby hat. Standing straight, he looked every bit the hero. If she had been made of sugar instead of flesh and blood, Cecily knew her heart would have melted at the sight of him.

  “Isn’t he so very dashing and handsome?” Augusta said.

  “Yes, Averil is.” Cecily clasped her hands to her chest.

  “You mean, Mr. Kingsley?” Augusta shrugged. “I suppose he is. But I meant Professor Tobias.”

  Cecily shook her head. “How can you think that, after he’s been so inconsiderate of your feelings?”

  Augusta sighed. “I don’t know. How can you argue with love?”

  “How can you, indeed?” Cecily mused. She loved Averil Kingsley. There was no argument about that. “Speaking of arguments, it looks like they are in a heated debate of some sort.” Cecily felt her heart’s beating increase.

  “Really?” Augusta leaned so closely to the screen that her nose touched it. “You’re right. Neither of them looks very happy. I wish I could hear what they’re saying.” She moved her head so her ear pressed against the screen. “Now I can hear much better!”

  Cecily shushed her sister. “If we don’t quiet down, they’ll be the ones listening to us. And that would be embarrassing.”

  “Not any more embarrassing than if they break out into a fight right here and now,” Augusta pointed out. “And from what I can tell, your Mr. Kingsley looks as though he’d like to wring Professor Tobias’s neck.” Slack jawed, she looked at Cecily. “Do you suppose we should go out there and stop them?”

  “I don’t think so.” Cecily placed a restraining hand on Augusta’s arm. “Whatever their argument is, they’d better settle it for themselves.”

  ❧

  Averil knew the voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place its owner. Who was it? He turned and discovered Professor Tobias. The anemic-looking young man appeared as though he would have difficulty lifting a piece of lint, much less a hearty machine like the carpet renovator.

  “It’s you,” Averil said.

  Professor Tobias tipped his hat. “You seem surprised.”

  Averil supposed he was, but etiquette demanded that he compose himself enough to tip his hat in return. “Good morning, Professor Tobias. And thank you, but no. I’m coping quite well.” To prove his point, he removed the renovator from the buggy in one smooth motion.

  “If you say so.”

  Averil wondered how he had managed to run into Professor Tobias at the Eatons’. He set the machine beside the buggy and beamed at the teacher. “So, this is a mighty fine afternoon to be out and about. Have the Misses Eaton consented to resume music lessons with you?”

  “No, that is not the reason for my visit.” His jaw tightened. “I am here to call upon Miss Cecily Eaton.”

  “Miss Cecily? Did I hear you correctly?” Averil stifled a chuckle.

  “Yes, you did.”

  Averil didn’t know how to respond. Cecily’s lack of interest in the music teacher had been obvious at the picnic. Hadn’t the man seen that?

  “I hope your delivery of the carpet machine is your sole purpose for stopping by here today,” Professor Tobias observed.

  “Yes, it is.” He was unable to keep regret from seeping through his voice. Averil looked at the new machine as though he had never seen such a marvel.

  “Good,” Professor Tobias answered. “I’ll have you know that your presence here is not welcome for any other purpose.”

  His remark caused Averil to snap his head in Professor Tobias’s direction. “So Mr. Eaton has granted you explicit permission to court his daughter?”

  He hesitated. “No. I’m just stopping by on my way from a music lesson a few blocks away.” The teacher nodded his head toward a leather satchel he carried, which Averil surmised contained sheets of music. “Today’s visit is informal, just a pleasant call to pass the time of day. But my intentions are honorable. I do plan to ask Mr. Eaton’s permission to court Miss Eaton soon. And I am confident he will heartily agree.” Professor Tobias puffed out his chest.

  “Are you really so sure of that?”

  “Of course.” Nevertheless, Professor Tobias’s voice quivered ever so slightly.

  “But how can you expect to court Miss Cecily when she is being courted by Mr. Delmar Williams?”

  “I have heard no such thing,” Professor Tobias responded. “Of course, everyone knows that neither Mr. and Mrs. Eaton nor Mr. and Mrs. Williams would be opposed to such a match. They have even encouraged it, in fact. But nothing is formal. Both sisters have assured me so many times.”

  “Indeed? That isn’t the impression I received from Miss Augusta.”

  “Remember, Mr. Kingsley, you are but a stranger to us yet,” Professor Tobias said with no small amount of pride coloring his voice. “I am much more privy to the details of their lives than are you.” He leaned toward Averil and lowered his voice as though sharing a confidence. “You see, I have spent quite a bit of time with both sisters.”

  Averil bristled. “In your capacity as a music teacher.”

  Professor Tobias leaned back. “Obviously, you have no idea how friendly teachers and their students might become, given the proper circumstances.”

  Averil opened his mouth to object, but Professor Tobias ignored him.

  “In any event, if Miss Cecily were a betrothed woman in love, wouldn’t she have let every man in the world know about it?”

  Averil didn’t answer right away. Professor Tobias’s logic was too sensible to debate.

  “So, it stands to reason, my good
man, that if you believe you are here to perform any task other than the delivery of their purchase, think again.” Professor Tobias gave the machine a dismissive look and then swayed from side to side in a superior manner. “Clearly I am the man in the elder Miss Eaton’s future.”

  “I haven’t heard her say any such thing.”

  “Not yet. But she will,” he said, lifting a forefinger to the blue sky. “I plan to marry her one day. One day in the not-too-distant future.”

  “Marry her?” Averil knew that the purpose of a formal courtship was to marry, but the full impact of Professor Tobias’s intentions didn’t register with him until the words fell from his lips.

  “Yes.” A triumphant grin lingered over the music teacher’s face.

  “But. . .but. . .”

  “But what?” Professor Tobias seemed to be enjoying himself far too much.

  Averil felt the heat of anger rise in his chest. “You can’t marry her. I love her!” he burst out.

  The teacher’s mouth dropped open to such an extent that Averil wondered if it would ever close again. “You. . .you what?”

  Averil hadn’t realized the depth of his emotions until that moment. And he had to go and shout it out to the music teacher, of all people. What was he thinking? No, that was just the problem. He hadn’t been thinking. He hadn’t been thinking at all. He decided not to repeat himself.

  “That is the most preposterous notion I’ve ever heard,” Professor Tobias said. “So preposterous, you can’t even bear to say it again.”

  Challenged, Averil was determined to prove the teacher wrong, even at the cost of his own pride. He forced himself to repeat his sentiment. “Yes, I can. I love Cecily Eaton, and there’s not a thing you can do about that.” His voice sounded louder than he intended.

  “Yell all you like,” the teacher conceded, his voice brittle. “But that doesn’t mean you can court her.” Professor Tobias cocked his head toward the Eaton house. “Don’t you realize that even if she agreed to see you, her family would never accept a traveling salesman as a suitor for their eldest daughter?”

  Remembering the chilly reception he had received from Mrs. Eaton, Averil wondered if Professor Tobias’s words didn’t contain a smidgen of truth. Still, he had to protest. “I take exception to your comment, Sir!”

  Professor Tobias took one step back before he spoke again. “How dare you take exception! If you could see plainly, you would know you have nothing to offer a woman of Cecily’s culture and refinement.”

  “I have plenty of culture and refinement. My family holds season tickets to the theater, and I attended the finest schools in New York.”

  “New York.” The teacher sniffed. “Yes. Of course, you can be pardoned for wanting to climb the social ladder, but I’m afraid you’ve chosen the wrong people this time. You’ll have to take your ladder elsewhere.”

  Averil balled his hands into tight fists but controlled the urge to raise them as a challenge to fight. Never in his life had he been accused of being a social climber. He wasn’t sure how to respond to such a ridiculous notion. “The fact of the matter is, Professor Tobias,” he said, being careful to keep his tone even, “my family is quite prominent in the state of New York.”

  “I am too much a gentleman to dispute your word, but any prestige you might enjoy there has no bearing whatsoever here.”

  “Perhaps that is so. Naturally, the Kingsley name wouldn’t hold as much sway among people who aren’t acquainted with us and our fine history. But now you listen to me. I’ll have you know that my own mother is a member of the Dames of the Magna Carta.” Averil didn’t mind that a sense of satisfaction permeated his voice.

  Professor Tobias’s eyebrows lifted as high as Averil supposed was possible. “You mean to say you can trace your roots back to thirteenth-century England?”

  “Yes, we can,” Averil said. “And I’m sure that fact speaks well of my family regardless of where we live.”

  “My membership in the Sons of Confederate Veterans speaks well enough of me.” The professor twisted his mouth into a sardonic line. “I don’t quite imagine any of your relatives fought on the side of the Confederacy in the War Between the States?”

  “I don’t need the Confederacy! I am heir to the Capital Duster Company!” Averil raised his index finger. “And I assure you, Professor Tobias, that fact gains me entrance into some of the finest homes in the country!”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said—” Averil stopped himself. Had he just told Professor Tobias that he was heir to his father’s company? He groaned inwardly. “Never mind what I said.”

  “Anything said that is not worth repeating is nothing less than a lie.” The music teacher clenched his fists. “Why, if I weren’t a gentleman, you’d soon find yourself lying flat on the street right here and now!”

  “Is that so?” Averil held back a laugh. He suspected Professor Tobias’s spindly physique was the real reason he exercised such control. Had Averil chosen to take a swipe at him, Professor Tobias was the one who’d be lying on the street.

  “You’re right about that!” the teacher assured him, although his voice didn’t hold as much bravado as before. “I may not look so tough, but you don’t want to try me.”

  Averil looked at the Eatons’ house. He could imagine how the tongues of local gossips would wag upon learning that two grown men engaged in fisticuffs on the Eatons’ front lawn. What would he look like, delivering a new carpet renovator in a torn and dirtied suit? If he were to come to blows with Cecily’s former music instructor, he knew Cecily and her family would be convinced that Averil was no gentleman, no matter how large or significant his inheritance might be.

  “You’re right,” he conceded to Professor Tobias. “I don’t want to try you. There is no need for a second Civil War. I suggest that we treat each other as the gentlemen we are. Why don’t you say we call a truce?” He extended his hand in reconciliation.

  Professor Tobias unclenched his hands and set them at his sides. “Well, if you say so. I don’t blame you for not wanting to fight me.” With a hesitant motion, he extended his hand in return.

  “That’s the spirit!” Averil said, all the while knowing his pride was controlling his tongue. “How would it look for us to fight out here in broad daylight?” He chuckled.

  Professor Tobias swept his glance over the neighborhood. “Not too gentlemanly, I suppose.”

  “Let me make another proposal. If Miss Cecily chooses you, I’ll gladly step aside.”

  “She already has.”

  “Really?” Averil’s voice held more bravado than he felt. Fact of the matter was, he couldn’t guarantee Cecily would have anything to do with him. He hadn’t seen her since the picnic. What was she feeling? What was she thinking?

  “Why don’t we go inside right here and now and find out?” Professor Tobias suggested. “We can ask her to choose between us.”

  “Averil!”

  “Cecily!” He whipped his head toward the verandah. Cecily was practically running across the lawn toward them.

  At that moment, any doubt he had about Cecily evaporated. How could he have even entertained the slightest notion that she could hide anything from him? Judging from her enthusiasm, his worst nightmare had not materialized. She hadn’t become engaged to Delmar Williams, after all. He almost collapsed with relief.

  As she approached, Professor Tobias tipped his hat. “Please, Miss Eaton, I can explain everything. This man here, this vile creature—”

  Cecily didn’t so much as glance in the teacher’s direction. “This vile creature is the man I love!”

  “Love?” A combination of embarrassment, fear, and exaltation pulsed through the core of Averil’s being.

  “Yes, love.” Her brown eyes sparkled, their golden flecks ever more apparent in the light of day.

  Averil gulped. “You heard me?”

  “We heard everything,” Augusta’s voice interrupted. Having run across the lawn after her sister, she was winded
but coherent. “We even heard that you’re not really a door-to-door salesman after all. At least, not forever.” She put her hands on her hips. “Mr. Kingsley, why didn’t you tell us you are heir to the company?”

  “He is?” Cecily’s eyes grew wide, and her mouth dropped open.

  Augusta quickly jumped in. “You didn’t hear that? Mr. Kingsley is heir to his father’s company. He’ll be president of Capital Dusters one day.”

  “Oh,” Cecily uttered. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention. I stopped listening after you said you love me. That is what you said, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” He was more than happy to repeat those sentiments. Averil rushed to her and embraced her with a passion he didn’t realize he possessed. “I love you, Cecily. I’ve loved you since the day I first saw you. And I always will.”

  “And I love you, Averil.” Her eyes were alight with emotion as she returned his embrace.

  “I nearly had to tie her down to keep her from running out here as soon as you told the professor,” Augusta said. “But I’m glad I made her wait. Mr. Kingsley’s future is secure. Now there’s nothing Mother or Father can object to!”

  “Nothing,” Professor Tobias whispered. “Nothing at all.” His face slackened with obvious disappointment.

  Augusta tugged at his sleeve. “You know something, Professor Tobias? I’m having the most trouble with one of Beethoven’s sonatas. Won’t you come in the music room with me for just a moment? Perhaps you could help me over the rough spots.”

  Professor Tobias looked too stunned to know a high C from a B flat.

  Augusta batted her eyelashes. “Won’t you? Pretty please?”

  The music teacher stared blankly at Cecily and Averil for a moment. “I, well, I suppose I could take a moment. . . .”

  “Good!” Augusta said.

  Still holding Cecily, Averil watched as Augusta tugged with so much force that he thought she was sure to pull the sleeve right off the professor’s suit coat.

  Cecily squeezed Averil’s waist, focusing his attention back where it belonged—upon her. She looked into his eyes. “Averil, don’t you see? I don’t care whether you’re a door-to-door salesman or the most important man in the world. All I care about is you.”