Time Travel 02 Nothing but Time

by Angeline Fortin

  “You think she’s going to pull out all the stops?” Kate asked. “Bring in a bevy of beautiful women to tempt you?”

  “She might try,” he responded, “but none could be as lovely as you.”

  Kate met Brand’s gaze reading the discomfort there. He hadn’t meant to say that but she was glad he did. The earl in him kept his emotions tightly bound and though she had seen moments of affection and desire break through that proper barrier, it was hard to know what he thought of her. Despite the kiss he’d given her outside that day, she wasn’t truly certain if it was her, her forwardness or his isolation that made him act. In truth, she still didn’t know how he viewed her in the big picture, but just knowing that he thought her beautiful was enough to send warmth threading through her.

  They sat there staring at each other for a long while. Kate hoping Brand might do or say something else out of character and Brand looking as if he wished she would just run away. “Miss Kallastad, I think it would be best for both of us if we embraced that novel concept you mentioned in the library last week.”

  “And what concept is that?”

  “That we remain out of one another’s personal space,” he clarified.

  “I’m not in your personal space.”

  A wry smile twisted Brand’s lips. “I believe the perimeter you indicated might need to be expanded given our impulsive interaction this afternoon.”

  Kate thought of that brief but passionate kiss with a blush. Her stomach quivered at the thought of repeating the experience. Something Brand made it clear he wasn’t interested in. Ah, but his words didn’t reinforce his actions. There was an attraction between them and Kate was willing to bet it was mutual.

  And wrong.

  She knew it. She didn’t like it, but she knew it. Kate should just let Brand keep that employee/employer distance securely between them… for both their sakes.

  “It is getting late and Nathan will likely wake early in the morning,” she said as she pushed out of the chair, resolved to keep her distance. The impulsive words that followed however weren’t in sync with the logical flow of her thoughts. “Will you come visit him in the nursery? I know he’d like it if you did.” So would I, she added silently.

  “Perhaps. Good night, Kate.” The courtesy wasn’t nearly as stiff as the one he’d delivered to his mother.

  “Good night, Brand.”

  Kate left the study without looking back. Not knowing that his eyes followed her the entire way or that they burned with desire he no longer tried to hide when she wasn’t looking.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I can’t believe you abandoned me in there to do that alone,” Kate complained the next morning, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe to Brand’s study and crossing her arms over her chest. The earl had been present in the front drawing room when Kate had been summoned to meet with his mother but, after performing curt introductions, had left Kate to the older woman’s not-so-tender mercies.

  “I do apologize most sincerely,” he offered, swiftly scooping up the papers before him and dropping them into an open drawer. “Mother insisted on seeing you alone. Was it very terrible?”

  It had been and it hadn’t been. Mrs. Belinda Ryder, Harrowby’s mother, was so much more intimidating than any simple Mrs. Ryder might ever dream of being. Belinda, Kate snorted in disbelief. Truly, she struck Kate more as a Maleficent or Cruella giving the impression of a classic Disney villainess or evil stepmother type right down to her black gown and narrowed gaze.

  She had grilled Kate up one side and down the other regarding her qualifications for caring for her only grandchild. Kate had answered all her questions as calmly and professionally as she had during her interview with the head of biomedical research at ISIS. Her parents had pounded the importance of good interview skills into her from the moment she’d gotten her first college interview at eighteen.

  No, Kate could handle the inquisition having been prepared for it since overhearing their conversation the night before. It was the woman’s frigid demeanor that left her wondering. Mrs. Ryder was so incredibly haughty and snooty that Kate thought a dowager duchess couldn’t have been more aloof. There wasn’t an ounce of warmth in the woman. She didn’t even necessarily seem to care much for Nathan as a person, referring to him as ‘the boy’ or as ‘my grandchild’.

  It was the kind of disassociation Kate thought more common in serial killers who didn’t want to think of their victims as real people, than in someone’s grandma. That scene from Silence of the Lambs kept leaping to mind where the killer spoke to his hostage in the pit. It rubs the lotion on its skin. Creepy on the silver screen.

  Even creepier in person.

  It was simply beyond Kate’s understanding though perhaps it was only because her own grandma was a warm, caring woman who always seemed to have a hot rutabaga pasty or strawberry-rhubarb pie fresh from the oven every time they came to visit.

  Moreover, what kind of mother referred to her son by his title? Earl or not, Harrowby was still flesh of her flesh. Mrs. Ryder couldn’t even call him by his name much less with any warmth. It sent chills up and down Kate’s spine thinking of Brand being raised by that woman. Given what she had overheard the previous evening and witnessed that morning, Kate would bet that Brand had been a kid who prayed nightly for a good military boarding school.

  Susan Ryder Ralston, Brand’s sister, brought Nathan to the drawing room about ten minutes into the interview. Initially, she had come across as being just as pompous as her mother. She refused to look at Kate at all. She merely stared dispassionately at her mother, nodding at whatever the woman said while Nathan sat next to her staring at his feet. Mrs. Ralston didn’t seem to care at all about what was being said regarding her son even with the little boy sitting right next to her. Kate thought she’d never seen a pair of more stuck-up, superior women in her life. Considering that neither was noble by the standards of the society in which they lived, Kate was surprised. She wouldn’t have dreamed that simply being related to a man who’d been elevated into London’s noble ranks could give anyone such a superiority complex.

  When Mrs. Ryder finally exited the room summoning her daughter with her, Kate had sat down next to Nate and taken his little hand in hers, squeezing it tight. “Man, she’s kinda terrifying, isn’t she?”

  Nathan had only nodded and swung his feet where they hovered above the floor, making Kate think her success of the previous day had been prematurely lauded. “So what do you want to do today?” she asked. “History? Philosophy? Underwater basket weaving?”

  Nate tipped his head and looked up at her from the corner of his eye. “There’s no such thing.”

  “Of course, there is!” Kate teased, feeling a rush of relief that the progress yesterday hadn’t been a fluke. “It’s a very common field of study among jocks.”

  “You mean jockeys?”

  “No, I mean…” Movement from near the doorway caught Kate’s attention and, looking up, she found Susan Ralston lingering in the door, one hand pressed to her mouth and tears in her eyes. Kate truly looked at the woman then, a petite feminine version of her brother, and saw, not a duplicate of Mrs. Ryder’s haughty gaze, but the worried lines of a mother in agony. This wasn’t Mrs. Ryder’s concept of maternal caring – if Mrs. Ryder felt this same way under her formidable, Hendricks-like exterior, it was buried pretty deeply – no, this woman was in pain for her child.

  Apparently, Mrs. Ryder hadn’t been much of a mother to either of her children if they hid their true emotions so well in mixed company.

  ***

  Harrowby studied Kate as he waited for her to answer. When she had walked into the drawing room an hour ago, he’d found himself almost stunned to silence by her. Gone was her casual dishabille of the night before and the ramshackle appearance she’d presented the previous day by the lake. In its place was a sophisticated, well turned-out lady.

  Her gown, while perhaps not up to the standards of the ton, was very smart. The bodice of dark gree
n silk clung tightly to her corseted torso relieved by a cameo at her throat as well as lace and small gold tassels there and at her wrists. Her overskirt of the same silk was edged in a gold fringe before it gathered up elegantly at the bustle and a gold and green striped underskirt fell in generous folds to the floor.

  Her hair had been dressed as well. The long, dark length was bound in twists and braids into a modest configuration at the back of her neck. She looked lovely, well-to-do and not at all like a maid in his house, a far cry from her more informal attire the previous night. That insane desire he always felt in her presence flooded Harrowby once more and he had to clear his throat and shake his head to rid himself of the image of undoing each one of the dozens of buttons that ran from beneath Kate’s chin to her waist. “Well?”

  “No, it wasn’t so terrible,” Kate said finally, sauntering into the room and dropping into one of the chairs in front of his desk, crossing her legs as she’d done in his presence before. She propped an elbow up over the back of the chair so that she might rest her head against her palm. “Your mother’s just a bit much to take – no offense.”

  “None taken at all. I am well aware of my mother’s many attributes.” He waved away the insult.

  “But your sister seems good-hearted,” Kate finished.

  “I suppose she is.” The earl leaned back and gazed at her thoughtfully. “In truth, I don’t really know my sister very well. We shared a nursery until I was ten and then we were parted to go our own ways. I, to Eton, and she to stay with a cousin who had a daughter of a similar age. After that, we rarely spent much time together.”

  “Do you regret that?”

  “Perhaps, but Susan tends to act just like Mother whenever we’re together,” Harrowby explained. “If I were to be honest, it’s hard to like the person she presents to the world.”

  “She loves Nathan.”

  “I cannot argue that,” he agreed. “Nathan and Charles, her husband, were the only ones I have ever seen her warm to. She would fight Mother tooth and nail to do what is best for Nathan, but I would have to say, it is all Susan would fight Mother about.”

  “That’s kind of sad for her, I think,” Kate said thoughtfully. It was sad for the entire family, but at least Susan had had a husband to love for a while and she still had Nathan as well. Whom did Brand have? Whom did he have to hug and love? Whom did he have who would comfort him when he was down?

  From what she had seen, he had no one in this huge mausoleum he rattled around in that he could even be friendly with. He had no company that she knew of, hadn’t seen any friends about. He was solemn, solitary and self-contained as if he needed no one. There was no laughter in this house beyond the servant’s quarters.

  How lonely he must be.

  Or was he a different person in the company of others? Did this noble persona slip away when among friends or was Brand as withdrawn with them as he was in this house?

  “Excuse me, my lord,” Geoffrey said from the doorway. “I don’t mean to interrupt but Mr. Wilder, the manager of the coal mine in Coventry, has arrived for your meeting. You did mention that you didn’t want to keep him waiting after his long journey.”

  “I did. Thank you, Geoffrey,” Harrowby replied, pushing back from his desk with a sigh. “Please show him to the library and let him know I will be with him presently.”

  “Very good, my lord.” The butler bowed and left them once more.

  “My apologies, Kate, I must go. Business calls.” Harrowby moved around the desk and to the door where he lingered waiting for Kate.

  Kate pushed herself up from her chair and approached but, rather than move into the hall, she stopped in front of him pushing the door half-shut, blocking them from view from the hall. If that hadn’t surprised him enough, she then slid her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him, squeezing him fiercely.

  “Whatever are you doing?” His appalled words were at odds with the warmth that flared inside of him as she laid her head against his chest. It was not a sexual gesture at all for she just held him there tightly, making no other moves. “I thought we agreed to avoid each other’s personal vicinity.”

  “I’m not putting the moves on you, Brand. I’m hugging you,” she said into his chest. “Have you not had enough of them to recognize them when they are given to you?”

  “I…well,” Harrowby stuttered looking down at the top of her head where it rested just over his heart.

  “You could try hugging me back, you know,” came her muffled words. “You just wrap your arms around me and– ”

  “I know what a hug is,” he grunted and slipped his arms tentatively around her. Kate was warm as she cuddled against him and Harrowby found himself relaxing into her arms. He bent over her as she curled into him with a satisfied hum. He turned his head so that his cheek pressed against the top of her head, drawing them even closer.

  It was… nice, he thought, trying to remember the last time he’d found himself in the embrace of another simply for the joy of being there. He could not, yet he felt oddly content merely standing there with his arms about her. He could feel her serenity seeping into him, drawing away the stresses that business and family delivered him. Harrowby felt calmer, more content with his lot.

  It was also the most disconcerting moment in his experience. The people he knew, his friends and acquaintances – even his own family – never touched a person with such informality and certainly not without their permission. Even the mistresses he’d had in the past would not approach him so familiarly, with nothing but the thought of giving comfort. It was a sad commentary on his life that he could hardly recall the last time he’d been held thus without the expectation of some compensation.

  Who was this woman that she gave so freely of herself? Or was there something more that she wanted from him? “Why did you do this?” he asked quietly.

  “It just seemed to me that you needed a hug,” she replied, though Harrowby had never before heard of the concept of a person ‘needing’ a hug. “Though I am largely from the ‘Me’ generation as I explained before, I am also from a generation that is big on hugging. It might have actually gotten a little out of hand, complete strangers hugging sometimes, but it’s a good thing, I think.”

  “It is a good thing,” he agreed, using her unusual phraseology. “Thank you, Kate.”

  “Anytime.” She gave him one last squeeze and relaxed away from him but not before Harrowby unconsciously brushed a kiss on top of her head. “I’ll be around if you need me later or Nate and I are going to go fishing in a little while if you want to come with.”

  Leaving the room, Harrowby thought about her parting comment. If he needed her, she would be around. If he needed her… she would be around.

  Though Harrowby didn’t make a habit of needing anyone, her offer was a touching one. When was the last time anyone had offered him their support? Or simply the pleasure of an uncomplicated presence?

  By God, but he liked that woman, he thought to himself. She confounded the hell out of him, but he liked her. How could he not?

  Chapter Twenty

  “Whatcha doing?”

  She hadn’t been able to stay away. Somehow that saying about if the mountain wouldn’t come to Mohammed, Mohammed would come to the mountain, had taken on a new appreciation with Kate. As she had thought before, if she wanted to see Brandon Ryder, it would be up to her to make it happen.

  She stood in the door of Brand’s study not twelve hours after their morning talk only to find the earl bent over a pile of papers writing furiously. Though he jumped at the sound of her voice, Brand was quick to snatch the sheaf of papers off the desk and shove them into a drawer, pushing it shut much as he had that morning.

  That done, he laced his fingers and glanced at her nonchalantly. “Nothing at all. What brings you here once more?”

  Kate’s heart sank with his cool welcome. “Is this not okay? I can go if you want.”

  “I will allow it.”

  “Well, thank you
so much,” she accepted lightly to disguise her disappointment. Perhaps Brand truly did not find her as appealing as she found him. She had jumped at every sound through the day, hoping Brand would come fishing or come to the nursery to see Nathan… to see her despite his resolve to remain apart from her. He hadn’t and Kate’s confidence in the mutuality of their pull on each other had been sadly deflated. How was it even possible that this was a one-sided attraction? Surely, he felt it, too. After all, he had kissed her twice now.

  With his mask of stoicism, it was just too hard to tell. She couldn’t read him at all. While a part of her was enthralled by his autonomy, his noble solitariness, she couldn’t decide if that demeanor was simply a result of his position, an off-shoot of his rearing or a charade to mask his true feelings. Kate only knew that she wanted to delve more deeply into Brand. She wanted to know the true him. He was irresistible in that very detachment.

  Kate resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. God, she was pitiful! “I thought you might come by the nursery today.”

  “Business kept me occupied,” he told her.

  Kate tilted her head curiously, feeling the underlying falseness in the words. “What were you working on when I came in?”

  “Business, just business.”

  Kate doubted that. Brand seemed almost embarrassed at being caught at whatever he was up to. Not the reaction of a man at an everyday task. “What kind of business?”

  “The kind that is none of yours.”

  “Ouch, that hurts,” Kate winced. “I thought we were becoming friends, Brand.”

  “Friends? Mates?”

  Though the second word had a dramatically different definition to Kate, she nodded. Mates, the word brought to Kate’s mind the image of a man and woman as one, soul mates. So much deeper than mere friends. An odd yearning unlike any she’d ever known clenched at her heart. What would it be like? To be a true mate to a man? Kate snorted. It was not a thought she’d ever had in her life and that she considered it now only seemed to underline how deeply attracted she was to this man.