Time Travel 02 Nothing but Time

by Angeline Fortin

  Forgetting who he was, the role she was meant to play, Kate couldn’t help but ask, “Why should I?”

  Chapter Eight

  Brandon Ryder, just recently Earl of Harrowby, stared down at the maid in surprise. He hadn’t expected such an answer, but what could one expect from an American? Everyone knew they were a brash bunch, lacking in basic manners. The girl didn’t even know how to execute a proper curtsey! However, he supposed, a woman who looked like this one might get away with any number of faux pas if she smiled upon a man as she did him.

  She was a beauty to be sure. Her face was a perfect oval dominated by large green eyes that stared up at him with astonishing directness through thick, black lashes that swooped like wings down and up with every blink. Her dark brows arched delicately over those amazing eyes and her equally dark hair contrasted with cheeks of smooth creamy ivory now touched with a becoming blush. They curved gently down to a strong jaw and chin that held a hint of stubbornness. Her straight little nose tilted up just a bit at the end over rosy lips that were full and dared a man to kiss them.

  With her head tilted back, Harrowby could make out the long slim column of her throat accented in the light of the lamp. Lifting a hand, he lightly encircled her neck tracing a delicate line down the side with a fingertip and he felt her quiver of response. Felt his own leap from awareness to desire in an instant as he held her gaze with his own though he was aware of her tongue darting out to moisten those tempting lips.

  “Why should you?” he repeated her question in a low voice already husky with desire and Kate couldn’t help the shudder that his seductive English accent sent through her. He was mesmerizing to say the least. His voice, if it were possible, was more entrancing than his face. “You are my servant, are you not? It is your place to be subservient to me, to bow to me.”

  “Subservience isn’t really my thing,” she told him breathlessly, caught in the web of seduction that suddenly surrounded them. She’d never known what it was like to want a man at first sight, but she wanted this one. Undeniably.

  “Your ‘thing’?” he repeated. “What would your thing be then?”

  “Let’s just say that servitude is new to me,” Kate told him, reaching out one hand to slide inside his jacket and rest on his side. She was unsure who was more surprised, him or her. She could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the flex of the long muscles down his side. Unable to help herself, she brushed her palm up his chest savoring the muscular outline of his pecs.

  Patently taking her exploits as an invitation for more action on his part, the earl’s hand traced a path back upwards to cup her jaw, his thumb arching out to stroke her bottom lip. Kate couldn’t seem to remember herself at all, where she was…who he was. She only knew that he was entirely too hypnotic and Harrowby had her in a trance that wiped away her normal good sense. Tilting her head back, her eyes fluttered closed inviting his kiss and she wasn’t disappointed when a moment later he dipped his head taking her lips tenderly with his.

  His mouth brushed hers lightly urging her lips apart before settling more firmly, his tongue leisurely dipping just a bit to caress the sensitive flesh of her lips and running along her teeth. Kate could feel the erotic rub of his whiskered chin chafing hers, sending a thrill of ardor though her. Giving as good as she got, Kate kissed him back skimming her tongue teasingly along his and pulling at his gorgeous mouth. It was completely unlike her to be so bold though she was by no means an innocent. She tended toward long relationships with a long dating history preceding anything greater than a goodnight kiss. She had always been a good girl, but she didn’t feel so good in that moment. Really, she felt very bad.

  And extremely naughty.

  What red-blooded American girl wouldn’t take such an opportunity? She couldn’t think of one of her girlfriends who wouldn’t have seized the opportunity for a romantic moment in a dark library with Chris Hemsworth if they’d had the chance and this man was no different. He was the type of guy who made women forget their morals and throw themselves recklessly at, made them long for just one kiss. Always wondering if it would be as good as they imagined only to find out it was even better.

  That was Harrowby. Better than imagined. Her blood roared in her ears with desire and want as his hands dropped to push her robe aside and cup her breasts through her cotton nightgown. “Mmmm,” she heard his voice huskily in her ear. “Servitude might be beneath you, but I would wager you could service a man very well.”

  It would be fair to say that a full minute passed before his words cut through the haze that had engulfed Kate. And another thirty seconds before she pushed away with a frown. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

  Harrowby reached for her, murmuring in his sexy English tones, “Come, girl, service your master.”

  Kate’s jaw sagged as she stared at him in disbelief. Surely, he hadn’t actually said that? She held up both hands between them, stopping him from coming any further. “Service you? Are you kidding me? Okay, I get that this is the nineteenth century but it’s certainly not the fourteenth. I think that whole practice of demanding something like that went out the door in the Middle Ages, master.”

  She injected a hefty amount of sarcasm in her voice and Harrowby drew back with a frown. “What are you so upset about? It was your teasing that started this with all your talk of servitude and subservience. I recognize an invitation when I hear one.”

  “That wasn’t an invitation!” she protested. “I was completely serious! I’ve never been in a position like this before, serving another person…and I do mean serving, not servicing! That’s what I meant! All I meant. I’ve never been a maid before. I wasn’t flirting with you.”

  Harrowby raised a patronizing brow.

  “All right, maybe I was flirting with you a little but I certainly wasn’t offering to service you!” Kate denied. “And you’re certainly not my master!” No, she might be attracted to the earl, totally aroused by him and maybe considering sharing in a mutually satisfying affair with him, but that phraseology of ‘servicing’ him was just too archaic. It was like the lords of old demanding their rights with the women of their personal kingdoms. “Geez! What kind of guy are you anyway, expecting your employees to sleep with you? They have a word for this where I come from, you know. It’s called sexual harassment.”

  It wasn’t hard to see that she had offended him as he drew himself up and stepped away. “I have never forced myself on any woman especially one in my employ.”

  “I’m sure you’ve never forced anyone, but to expect…”

  “Nor have I ever taken a woman in my employ to my bed even if she were willing and offered herself,” he interrupted before she had a chance to finish. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and Kate could easily see that he was angered by her implications. “Honorable men do not take advantage of women under their protection or in their employ despite your references to the practice of droit du seigneur.”

  “Really?” Kate asked doubtfully crossing her arms as well. “What was that then? I’m your employee and I’m fairly sure that you intended to take me to bed just moments ago.”

  “We never would have made it to a bed,” he volleyed back but then shook his head. “In truth, I don’t know what I was thinking, but be assured that this is not my normal practice. You must admit to throwing yourself at my head most enthusiastically.”

  “I was not!” Kate denied. “You just took me by surprise is all when you came so close. I’m not used to having men” – like you, her mind clarified – “invading my personal space.”

  “Personal space?” he questioned, his tone clearly puzzled.

  Kate circled her arms around her in demonstration. “My space. My personal space and, given what just happened, it might be best if you just stay out of it.”

  Both of the earl’s brows shot up in surprise. “Are you telling me what to do?”

  “I’m merely suggesting that it would be to our mutual benefit to stay away from each other if you don�
�t want to step on your own self-proclaimed principles,” she told him. “You’re the boss and I am but a lowly maid and a new one at that. I can’t afford to lose this job.”

  Never had Harrowby encountered anyone who talked to him as this woman did. She spoke with brash directness. She was officious and disrespectful. She hadn’t addressed him properly even once! She had lured him into making advances upon her person without thought for his honor and position. That had never happened. It was the one rule his father had pounded into him since he was sixteen years old and had been caught with a milkmaid in the barn. A gentleman did not use or abuse those in his care and he never had, despite many invitations over the course of his life. Yet this woman would have had him taking her right there on the library desk if his own words hadn’t upset her. He felt shame for his actions, yet frustration as well for despite it all, he wanted her still.

  “Leave now then,” he commanded with a wave of his hand stepping back to give her ample space. The stubborn woman just stood there and stared at him. “Bloody well go!”

  Finally, she left. She didn’t even bother to rush, just sauntered by with her head held high.

  Chapter Nine

  Sleep didn’t come to Kate at all that night. Instead, she lay awake replaying those moments with the earl, wondering what had come over her…and him for that matter, if what he said was true. In truth, her own raging desires kept her awake as much as her thoughts. Her limbs trembled with desire each time she played that kiss over in her mind. The overwhelming nearness of his body next to hers, not even touching but affecting nonetheless as if his sensuality radiated out from him and she had stepped within its sphere of influence. After experiencing his kiss and the feel of his hands, she could only imagine that the aura would be even wider when she next met him.

  How different he was from the men she had dated! They were boys in comparison. Truly most had only been boys. The college boys she’d dated in school, the twenty-somethings she’d dated in graduate school were all wet behind the ears in comparison. Even David Fergusson, despite being closer in age to the earl, was nothing but a boy in contrast. Maybe that was why those brief relationships had never been serious, why they never lasted.

  Harrowby was something different, something new. She liked his confidence, the self-assurance he exuded. And, though the idea should have offended her modern sensibilities, Kate liked the way he took what he wanted. There had been no tentativeness in his kiss. He wanted. He took. It should have seemed presumptuous and barbaric, but instead it had sent a shiver of excitement up her spine.

  Wow, she was completely losing it! Kate shook her head and turned on her side careful not to disturb Nan with whom she shared a bed. She shouldn’t be so taken by a man who behaved that way, but she was. Now Kate looked back at the fumbling encounters of her past that were, to date, the summation of her sexual experience and wondered what it would be like to have a man as masterful as Harrowby in her bed.

  ***

  Sleep might not have come but, inevitably, the morning did. While the others went into Henley to attend church, Kate puttered around the dormitory worrying over whether she was about to lose her job or not. Granted, she didn’t actually need the work but she wanted – no! needed – the independence it gave her. Surely, her behavior the night before had sounded a death toll on her job though Hendricks hadn’t summoned her yet. Still, Kate could feel the tension building inside of her waiting for the axe to drop for surely she was going to be sacked by the earl for her insolence.

  In truth, Kate knew she probably deserved to be fired. She hadn’t given Harrowby one ounce of the respect she would normally give her employer. She hadn’t used his title at all and had lectured him without censoring her words. While his own behavior would be suspect in her own time, this was his time. Harrowby was an earl. Surely he was used to getting bowed down to and wouldn’t take her behavior without reprimand.

  So Kate waited and waited for a summons from the housekeeper wondering all the while where she could go from here. To the factories, she supposed, unless Lowry took her dismissal as a sign that she was beyond redemption. Either way it meant a trip back to David’s house, back to expectations that made her weak with dread and boredom enough to eat away at her soul.

  The morning stretched on and Kate’s nerves grew taut.

  Waiting.

  Late in the morning, the other women returned from church and changed to go into Henley for the afternoon. With a sigh of relief, Kate pulled on her bonnet, as she knew was expected, prepared to leave her worries behind for a few hours as she joined Marta, Mary and Nan. They were just about to leave through the kitchen entrance when an authoritative voice broke through the female chatter.

  “I’d like a word with you, if you don’t mind.”

  ***

  Harrowby had gotten little sleep the night before, nursing a brandy before a fire in his bedchamber until nearly dawn as he considered his encounter with the maid. His aberrant behavior had disturbed him for, as he had said, it was beyond his normal manner to dally with the help. After the encounters of his early manhood, he hadn’t needed to, as lovers were always plentiful when desired.

  After finally finding sleep as the sun came up, he slept until noon with dreams of heated embraces and entangled bodies haunting him. Dreams that disturbed him almost as much as his actions the previous evening.

  Outside vague excuses, he was appalled by his departure from honorable form. He was also disgusted that he hadn’t even gotten to an exchange of names before he’d started kissing the woman and that was certainly out of character for him.

  What was it that had lured him to these uncharacteristic behaviors? There was something about that maid that lingered with him, something different than he’d previously experienced. She was a beauty to be sure, but he had known women lovelier and certainly more pleasant. Women who enticed with soft words and softer hands. However, those women were professionals or ladies of the ton who set themselves up to be the mistresses of many a lord over time. While he might have mistaken the maid’s eager response for experience, Harrowby didn’t feel now that she had ever made an occupation of it. There had been no pretense in her, just honest attraction.

  Perhaps it had been that which tempted him. There had been no charade of his desirability about her. It hadn’t seemed as if she wanted anything from him be it payment, status or victory. She hadn’t looked at him and seen his title first, it seemed to him that she had seen nothing more than a man. And that hadn’t happened in months.

  As a boy, the new earl had never expected to inherit the title of Harrowby and all that went with it. His uncle’s marriage had spawned several daughters and even a son. It wasn’t until that son had died from the measles in his early teens that Brand had even considered his place in the succession for the earldom. By then, Harrowby’s countess had been past her childbearing years and about ten years ago, his uncle had finally declared Brandon Ryder as his heir.

  Things had changed for him then. He’d gone from simple Mr. Brandon Ryder to a gentleman with prospects. A man with a future of influence and wealth as well since the earldom was an old and rich one. He emerged as one of the ton’s most eligible bachelors and, given his status as the only male heir of the earl, was fully expected to marry and produce its next generation in all haste.

  Once he’d left Oxford and entered Society, he had been openly pursued and for the past ten years had not been able to attend any social function without being subject to assumptions that he entering the Marriage Mart. He had been inundated with offers and proposals from gentlemen and lords alike, each one hoping for a title for their daughter. It wasn’t just English women pursuing him either. Since the American heiress Jenny Jerome had wed the son of the Duke of Marlborough just two years before, the marriage mart had been flooded by young American heiresses seeking titles and status in exchange for immense wealth. They coveted a title even more greatly than the English misses might.

  This Season had proven to be the worst ye
t now that he was no longer merely an heir but rather Earl of Harrowby. In the few months since gaining his title, Harrowby had been subject to more tittering, chattering and kowtowing from women than he could bear. No one expected a proper mourning period from him considering the continued lack of a successor. He was invited everywhere. When he entered a room, women began bobbing up and down in a frenzy of nervous curtseys that set his teeth on edge. But despite this maid’s feeble attempt at that simple courtesy, Brand had known she didn’t view him as an earl, a noble or even her superior as her employer. Even other American women showed him suitable deference, so it wasn’t just her nationality.

  She looked at him in a way he hadn’t been looked at in a decade.

  Not as a prize, but as a man.

  And, damn, he didn’t even know her name! Knew nothing at all about her other than she was American and new at her position here. That was all. But how was he to know more without invading her ‘personal space’, as she put it? Without seeming too interested in a woman in his employ.

  He couldn’t simply ask Mrs. Hendricks about her. The old housekeeper had cowed him as a youth and retained that ability into his adult years. He was likely to shuffle his feet and stammer nervously if he attempted to put the inquiry to her. Even knowing he was an earl now would not put a halt to that. He’d not even been able to stay in the hall the previous afternoon to meet all the servants because of that old woman… a circumstance he now regretted.

  His only recourse then would be to set aside this maid’s command to leave her alone and seek her out, setting not only her wishes but his own good sense aside. Truly, Harrowby was not interesting in pursuing the woman as a sexual conquest or partner. He had been quite serious when he’d told her that he didn’t engage in affairs with his staff. Logically he knew he should just let the issue go, remain outside of her ‘personal space’ and leave her to her work since he had no intentions of castigating her for her impertinence of the previous evening. Even if he did, it was not his duty to perform. As earl, he would simply pass that order down to Hendricks and let her see it done.