For All Time

by Jude Deveraux

  “Sorry,” he said and he was. All of them liked Toby and her work was excellent.

  Toby spent some time with her coworkers, sharing hugs and stories of the work they’d been doing, but when she began to feel in the way, she left and walked to Jetties Beach. But it was where she and Graydon had walked together and there were too many memories.

  She took herself to Arno’s for lunch, then went shopping at Zero Main. Noël and her staff always made Toby feel better.

  At five she started home. She knew she’d made some decisions, and she planned to stick with them. The first thing was that she was going to stop disparaging Graydon’s country. It wasn’t any of her business what they did. She was an American and had different views, but that didn’t make them the only way or even a better way. It was Graydon’s life and if he wanted to marry a woman he didn’t love, he had that right.

  The main thing Toby knew was that she needed to protect herself. She’d laughed about it to Lexie, but the way Toby was going, she was going to fall in love with Graydon. Then what? She’d kiss him goodbye as he went off to marry someone else? No, she wasn’t going to do that.

  By the time she got back to the house, she was smiling.

  “Where have you been?” Graydon demanded as soon as she stepped inside. His hair was rumpled and his eyes were red. A deep frown creased his forehead.

  She put her shopping bags on the floor and her handbag on the little table in the hall. “How did it go with your Russian businessman?”

  Graydon stepped forward, his arms extended, as though he meant to pull her into them. But Toby took a step back, her body stiff, and her face wore what Lexie called the don’t-touch-me look.

  Graydon dropped his arms. “I apologize for what I said.” His voice was so soft only she could hear him. “We Lanconians are too inflexible. We—”

  “It’s all right,” she said. “Different countries; different ways. I had no right to criticize you or your country.”

  He smiled at her. “Shall we kiss and make up?”

  “No,” she said firmly, then took her shopping bags and went upstairs.

  It was early morning on Saturday, the day of the dinner party, and Graydon was looking out the upstairs window as Toby watered the garden. It was cool and foggy, perfect Nantucket weather, and he would have liked to be with her, but he knew that things had changed between them. Ever since he’d explained to Toby why Daire couldn’t possibly marry someone like Lorcan, it was as though she had closed a door on him.

  She seemed to have left their private little world for two and returned to her life on Nantucket. Twice she’d been out to lunch with her girlfriends. At six one morning he saw her outside cutting flowers for a wedding. Graydon had asked if she needed help but Toby had politely told him no. No teasing or laughing, just her extreme courtesy—and it was getting him down. Every sentence she addressed to him was polite. She smiled at him, made small talk, and was always endlessly courteous.

  “I don’t know what you did to her,” Daire said after a few days, “but if I were you, I’d be afraid to close my eyes.”

  The truth was that Graydon had no idea what he’d done to make her go from … well, almost loving to smiling at him as though she’d just met him that morning.

  Twice he’d tried to talk to her. Both times he’d used his most patient—and certainly most charming—voice to explain his country and hers. He’d talked of how his homeland was very old and that it was based on centuries of tradition. He’d smiled as he told her that her country was so young that it couldn’t understand having customs that went back hundreds of years.

  She’d seemed to be listening—until he reached out to take her hand in his.

  Toby drew back and stood up. “Lanconia sounds wonderful. Maybe I’ll visit someday. Right now I have a date.” Smiling at him in her cool way, she left the room.

  Graydon wanted to run after her and demand to know who her “date” was. A man? That was the first time it truly hit him that on Nantucket he was just a regular person. He had no princely rights and no one was looking at him as though they lived to please him.

  On the third day of Toby’s never-ending courtesy, Graydon started watching Daire and Lorcan. His original objective was to prove that Toby was wrong. Maybe it was true that Lorcan was “in love” with Daire. After all, he’d been her teacher for many years. But Daire had taught a lot of people and never once had he hinted that he felt anything personal for any of them. At least not to Graydon.

  He began to watch the two of them training together. Lorcan’s bruises were healing from her fall, but still, Daire was quite solicitous of her.

  When Graydon was working out with them, both Daire and Lorcan showed nothing personal between them. It was only when he went inside and watched them through an upstairs window that he began to see what Toby had.

  Many times Daire put his arms around Lorcan as he showed her some movement that Graydon was sure she knew well. Twice he saw Daire close his eyes for a moment as Lorcan’s body grazed his.

  That night when they were alone Graydon asked Daire about the woman he was pledged to marry. “How is Astrie?”

  For a moment Daire looked blank. “Well, I assume.”

  “You don’t keep in contact with her?”

  “My family does. That is enough.”

  “And when is your wedding?” Graydon asked.

  “Why all these questions?”

  “I was just curious, is all,” Graydon said, then turned away. At meals he began to see the way Lorcan and Daire moved certain dishes toward each other. It was subtle, something he’d never noticed before, but it was there. One morning he glanced up and saw Toby looking at him as though to say “I told you so.” It was the most personal she’d been all week.

  When the historic clothes arrived from Lanconia, Graydon was sure that they’d melt Toby’s coolness. His grandparents had sent a dress for her that was truly beautiful.

  Gently, Toby held it up. “This should be in a museum.”

  “No, it should be worn by a beautiful woman,” Graydon said in a voice that in the past had made several women look at him with dreamy eyes.

  But Toby ignored him.

  “Toby, I—” Graydon began as he stepped toward her.

  But her cell phone rang. “It’s Jared,” she said as she went outside to answer it. Minutes later she returned, smiling. “He’s given me a job! I’m to design an entire garden for his cousin’s house. Alix is drawing the remodel now and …” She took a breath. “I have to go measure things. Lorcan? Want to hold the end of the tape?”

  “I would like to—” Graydon began but his cell rang and it was Rory with yet another emergency. Their father was recovering and wanted to talk to him.

  “Now I really have to be you,” Rory said, panic in his voice. “Maybe you should come home for this one.”

  Graydon looked at Toby and Lorcan talking together, both of them with their eyes alight, and he thought that if he left now he didn’t think Toby would let him back in the house. “I can’t do it,” Graydon said in Lanconian. “I have business here.”

  “You think bedding some American girl is more important than your king?” Rory shot at him.

  “I’m not touching her and don’t try to bully me. You can do this! I’ll walk you through it.”

  Rory seemed shocked at what his brother had said. “You’ve had weeks but you haven’t won the girl? What’s wrong?”

  Graydon gave a half smile. “It seems that to Toby I’m not a prince by birthright. She expects me to earn the position.”

  Rory laughed so hard that Graydon rolled his eyes and very nearly hung up on his brother.

  It was just before Rory was to go see their father—and try to fool him about his own sons—that Graydon asked his brother to do something for him.

  “Besides try to be you?” Rory snapped.

  In the past Graydon had been almost patronizing about Rory’s reluctance to spend time with their parents. But since Graydon had heard the
way their mother talked to Rory, he was much more understanding.

  “Yes,” Graydon said. “I want to ask more of you. I want a document drawn up and signed by our father.”

  “You’re not asking much, are you?”

  “I am asking a great deal of you,” Graydon said, his mind on Danna. The night before he’d seen a YouTube video of Rory and Danna leaving a dinner party and they’d looked like two sublimely happy people. Graydon was beginning to question how he was going to be able to reconcile taking that away from his brother. “I think the American in me is coming to the surface,” he said.

  “What does that mean?” Rory asked.

  “I don’t know yet. I’ll write to you about what I need and you can have it drawn up and get Father to sign it.”

  “Mother will give me hell.”

  “No, she won’t!” Graydon said sternly. “If she says anything at all, don’t back down. Stand up to her. Don’t even blink. Father will back you.”

  Rory took a breath. “All right. Send me what you need and I’ll try to—no! I’ll do it.”

  “Good,” Graydon said and they hung up.

  In the remaining days before the dinner party Lorcan and Toby spent a lot of time planning the garden for Jared’s cousin’s house. They went on one of the many house and garden tours held in Nantucket and returned with photos and sketches.

  “I’ve never seen Lorcan so easy with another woman,” Daire said as he watched the two women bent over books and papers. “She’s spent her life with men and the women were always jealous of her.”

  Toby had taken Lorcan shopping and outfitted her in Nantucket white linen. Gone were Lorcan’s black leathers and wool, and her heavy boots. It greatly amused both Graydon and Daire that while Lorcan had learned a lot of English, Toby had learned just as much Lanconian. They talked to each other in a mix of the two languages. When Toby said, “By Jura, but I think this garden is going to be beautiful!” both Daire and Graydon had hidden their laughter.

  What Graydon regretted about the friendship was that Lorcan had taken over training Toby. Compared to Lorcan, Toby was awkward in her martial arts skills, but then Toby introduced Lorcan to yoga. Both men glued themselves to the sunroom windows when the two women were outside doing their exercises.

  One time Rory called in the middle of a session. His voice was frantic as yet another crisis had arisen.

  “Rory,” Graydon said calmly, “do you know what a ‘downward facing dog’ is?”

  “One of the natural wonders of the earth. But that’s just my opinion,” he said.

  “That’s what Toby and Lorcan are doing right now.”

  “My problems can wait,” Rory said and hung up.

  But this was the day of the dinner party and Graydon hoped that tonight he could make up with Toby.

  When Toby threw open her bedroom door, she had on a bathrobe, her hair was streaming down her back, and her pretty face was devoid of makeup. “I need help!” she said to Jilly. “I can’t figure out any of this dress, and the corset is a monster—even though there’s not much of it. And my hair! I didn’t even think about it! I should have had it done and—”

  “You’ll be fine,” Jilly said. “I’m rather good with my daughter’s long hair so I can help with yours. In fact, I brought a few things with me.” She had a duffel bag that looked to be packed full.

  At Jilly’s soothing words, Toby began to relax. This was how she’d always wanted her mother to be, how she’d imagined the two of them sharing events. She was almost twenty before she realized that it was never going to happen.

  Early that morning, when Jilly had stopped by to ask if they needed any help with the party, Toby had revealed that they were presenting a wedding theme in costume. She’d even shown Jilly the dress she was to wear. Toby had carefully opened the flaps of the box to expose pale green tissue paper. Inside was a dress of sheer white silk, the bodice covered with what looked to be hand embroidery of intertwining flowers and vines, all of it white. The necessary undergarments for the gown were in a separate box.

  When Jilly picked the dress up, the first thing she noticed was that it was nearly transparent. “Oh, my goodness,” Jilly said. “Graydon got this for you?”

  “He did,” Toby said curtly, then looked away.

  She certainly wasn’t rhapsodizing over Graydon today! Jilly thought. “What are you planning to wear under this?”

  “Red flannel underwear?” Toby said and the women laughed.

  “The house smells great,” Jilly said. “Who’s doing the cooking?”

  “Mostly the men,” Toby answered. “Lorcan and I just cut up things. I’ve been trying to get her and Daire to stay for the dinner, but they won’t do it.”

  Now, in the bedroom, Toby sat down on an ottoman as Jilly began working on her hair. She piled the thick blonde curls up, and held them in place with what seemed to be a thousand pins. Tendrils fell down prettily at the sides of Toby’s face. Afterward, Jilly applied light cosmetics, letting Toby’s pure skin show through.

  After the hair and makeup were done, they tackled the corset. It encircled Toby’s ribs and supported the lower half of her breasts, but it left the top half nearly fully exposed.

  “I think they sent the wrong undergarments,” Toby said as she tried to pull the top up so it would cover more, but it wouldn’t move.

  “This shows that every generation has liked sex,” Jilly said. Nothing had been sent to wear under the slip, no underdrawers of any kind. Toby thought they’d made a mistake, but a quick computer search showed that there was no error.

  “There’s historical accuracy and there’s common sense,” Toby said as she pulled on a pair of modern cotton underpants.

  Jilly held out the nearly transparent slip for Toby to put on, then handed over the white silk stockings with their garters. At last, she helped Toby slide the dress over her head. It was a perfect fit, with the high waist just under her breasts and the pretty, puffy sleeves showing off Toby’s slender arms. The skirt barely grazed the floor, with the embroidery weighing it down enough that it clung to Toby’s body when she moved.

  When Toby looked in her antique full-length mirror, she thought she’d been transformed into a different person. The truth was that she thought she looked even more like Tabby from her dream. But this dress had once been worn by royalty and was richer and more beautiful than anything she’d seen before. She made a couple of tugs at the top of the dress to try for more coverage, but then let it drop. She turned to Jilly.

  “You look beautiful,” Jilly said. “Really, Toby, you are something out of a fairy tale.” There was a knock on the door.

  “Is it safe to come in?” Ken asked.

  Opening the door, Jilly swept her hand back. “Behold what we have done.”

  “Toby!” Ken said. “You look fabulous.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Let’s just hope that Victoria agrees.”

  “Based on what I know,” Ken said of his ex-wife, “Victoria will love wearing a dress that shows so much of her—” He made a vague gesture around his chest area. “The sight of you nearly made me forget. Graydon sent this to you. It’s from his grandmother.”

  Toby took the package he held out to her. It was wrapped in a pretty pink silk fabric and tied with a cream-colored ribbon. When she opened it, she gasped, for inside were a pair of pearl earrings and a bracelet of tiny pearls and twisted gold wire. In the bottom were a dozen little pearl and gold pins.

  “They’re for your hair,” Jilly said as she began to put them into the upsweep she’d created.

  Ken took a small camera out of his pocket and began snapping. “Two beautiful girls,” he said.

  The sound of voices downstairs made them look at one another. Victoria and Dr. Huntley had arrived.

  “Ken and I will go down first,” Jilly said to Toby. “Gray asked if he could escort you down. He said he has something he wants to show you. We’ll fix drinks and turn on the music, so come down when you’re ready.”

&
nbsp; The two of them left the room and went downstairs.

  It was just before their guests were to arrive, and Graydon was dressed in what Toby called “Mr. Darcy’s clothes.” When he sat down on the couch to put on the ridiculous little slippers that came with the getup, he found a note and a small package from his grandmother Aria.

  My darling Gray,

  The clothes I sent were worn by my grandmother’s wayward sister and her Groom of the Horse—who everyone knew was her favorite lover. But then, her foreign princely husband was such a dud! These are the jewels she wore with the dress.

  My dear grandson, I know what you are facing in the future and how desperately you need this time to think and plan. Please be assured that whatever you do, whatever decisions you make, your grandfather and I will support you and love you.

  With greatest love, Aria

  The tone of the note made him miss his grandparents very much. Before he thought about what he was doing, he called his brother.

  A sleepy, grumpy Rory answered. “Do you know what time it is here?” he asked in Lanconian.

  “About one-thirty in the morning,” Graydon said. “Since when do you go to bed before dawn?”

  “Since I took over your life. Did you know they even schedule when I can use the restroom?”

  “Discipline in all things,” Graydon said.

  “You didn’t call to hear me complain. What’s going on? Except that you’re having to dress up like a Jane Austen book cover, that is.”

  “I wondered if you’d been told about that.”

  “Of course I was,” Rory said. “The grandparents wanted to know all about your little girlfriend.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  Rory was quiet for a moment. He knew this call wasn’t merely social. “What’s bothering you?”

  “I like her,” Graydon said. “I’ve never felt this way before. But right now she isn’t happy with me.”