A piece of tough meat I’d been trying to break down for the better half of twenty minutes found its way to the back of my throat and I started to choke. Lieutenant Walker, with his quick military reflexes, smacked me on my back and the offending piece of steak flew out of my mouth into my napkin. Only the countess noticed the fuss, which she rewarded with a scolding look.
“As we are very anxious to welcome Jane to the family,” the earl continued without even a glance my way, “and in honor of this union, we will be holding an engagement ball here at Dormer House in two days’ time. Our annual hunt this season, on the twenty-second of August, I believe it is”—he looked to the countess, who simply nodded her acceptance—“will also serve to celebrate the coming together of these two great families, the Drakes and Weatherfields. “He lifted his glass to indicate that he was done with the speech and downed it without delay.
Though I had recovered from my poorly timed choke, I couldn’t help but feel gutted by the announcement. So much so that I couldn’t even look at Lord Henry, although I felt his eyes on me more than once. It was just a kiss, I reminded myself. Maybe that was what he had tried to tell me in the stable.
Of course.
I’d been so foolish. In all the craziness of the last few days, not only had I allowed myself to get swept up in this world in which I didn’t belong, but more importantly, I’d forgotten Lord Henry’s tragic fate. He would never marry Jane because he’d be dead long before the wedding. Alarm shot through my body and sobered me instantly.
Isobel noticed the change in my expression. I forced a smile for her benefit. Sometime soon her brother would die. What was the date? Instinctively, my hand went for the pocket where I normally kept my iPhone but of course it wasn’t there. Old habits died hard. It was only days away, if I remembered correctly. I stole a quick glance at Lord Henry, who looked like he was suffering a bout of indigestion. Soon he would suffer far more than that.
When dinner was officially over, Lord Henry’s sister singled me out and encouraged me to join the ladies in the great parlor. The men were going to remain at the table smoking cigars.
“This is the part where they congratulate each other on being men,” Isobel whispered in my ear. It was in that instant that I realized how much I liked this girl. “You know, that dress suits you much better than it ever did me. I think it’s because you are so fair. If you like it, you should keep it,” she said.
The dress was a beautiful shade of light green. The lace around the low neckline was also beaded. “Thank you. You have great taste.” I returned the compliment. Finally in a sea of unfriendly faces it felt nice to be shown kindness. She had already managed to lift my spirits.
Isobel and I stuck to our own corner talking. She told me about London and how much she loved it there.
“Have you been there?” She clapped a hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Miss Emma, of course you wouldn’t remember if you had. I didn’t mean to appear insensitive to your… your condition.”
“No harm done,” I replied. The London I had been to had been nothing like her London anyway, so I guessed I really hadn’t been.
Sensing that I was becoming a bit too familiar with her daughter, the countess made her way over.
“Isobel, leave us a moment, dear.” She said this without taking her eyes off me, like a cat hunting its prey.
Isobel shot me a concerned look when she got up.
“So tell me, Miss Clayton, where exactly are you from?” The countess settled on the edge of a chair, indicating that our little rendezvous would be brief. Plastered on her face was a tight smile, the kind people offered when their patience had already run out.
“Um… America?” Was this a trick question?
The countess was a very well-preserved woman in her forties who hardly ever seemed to blink. Her face also didn’t vary much in the way of expression, like many of the plastic surgery addicts in Beverly Hills.
“Of course, dear, but from where? I know a great deal of families in America.” She emphasized the last syllable of America.
“Ahhh, Los Angeles.” I watched her search her memory for such a place.
“I’m not as familiar with the small villages. When did you arrive in England? Do you remember that?”
Now I was starting to sweat because I felt like she was trying to catch me in a lie rather than ask out of interest. “I don’t remember much, really…”
“So I’ve been told.” She cut me off. “Do you know what brought you here?”
I decided to go for half truths. “My mother was from here. In the north. Although we lost touch with her family some time ago.” As soon as it was out of my mouth, I knew I’d revealed too much.
“And what would her name be?” Her black eyes narrowed in anticipation.
“Eileen Farrar.” I doubted the countess planned to track down my mother’s family.
“I don’t know that family.” She seemed to be searching her memory. “Well, I doubt they travel in the same social circles.” She scanned the room almost to emphasize our current company before returning her full attention back to me. Her comment stung, as I was sure it was intended to. “Amazing that you are able to recall names, but not where you were living here.”
“Yes, the doctor felt it was sometimes common with head injuries.” Beads of sweat started to pool on my brow and I resisted the urge to wipe them with my hand. The last thing I wanted was even more scrutiny. Desperate to get this woman off my tail, I decided to shift the conversation. “You have a beautiful home. I am so thankful for the wonderful hospitality.” My cheeks hurt from the forced smiles.
“Oh, yes. My son Edmund is very charming, is he not? He is also betrothed to someone equally suitable.” She said this as if I might have designs on Edmund, who had the personality of a turnip as far as I’d seen and was about as attractive as one.
“How nice for him. She’s a lucky girl.” Kill her with kindness was my internal mantra, my stage smile perfected.
“Yes, luckier than that poor little Jane, to be sure.” She looked over at the girl now with a look of pity. “She’ll have her work cut out trying to fit that one into the mold of an earl. Takes after his mother, I hear. Not quite as refined as one ought to be.”
My hackles were immediately up. “I wouldn’t say that at all. Lord Henry will make a terrific earl and he takes his responsibilities very seriously, not to mention he is compassionate and…”
“Ah. I see you seem to have quite an understanding of my stepson in such a short time. You may want to consider bestowing your affections where they are appropriate though, don’t you think? After all, he is soon to be married.” Condescension dripped from her every word.
“I didn’t mean—” I felt flustered. “I wasn’t trying to say…”
“Be assured I know everything that goes on, Miss Clayton. After all, I am the lady of the house and even my walls talk if I ask them to.” She motioned around the room as she smiled a very toothy smile at me and I felt the full effect of looking into a lion’s mouth. She rose to leave, but seemed to have one last thing to share. “I’m so glad we had a chance to get to know one another. I do hope we are able to reunite you with your family soon.” In a swoosh of fine clothes she left and I couldn’t help feeling like I’d made my first enemy.
Chapter 17
Kiss and Tell
That night I dreamt of lions and tigers and bears. I was Dorothy trying to find my way out of Oz and back to Kansas, only along the way I found myself frolicking with Lord Henry, the soon-to-be-married Englishman, in a tall patch of clovers.
When I woke up it was still dark. At first I felt annoyed to be pulled out of such an erotic dream. Guilt quickly followed for having enjoyed it at all. After what happened with Lord Henry, I hadn’t even had time to think of Ben. What did that mean? I had cheated on my fiancé and I should feel torn up about it. Never in my life had I been that girl, but yet here I was throwing myself at the first man I met.
Today I had to figure out
how I was going to get back to Oxwich and track down Miss Crabtree. I couldn’t very well steal a horse. If I walked I could probably make it in about three hours. Definitely an option, but I still needed to tell people why I needed to go.
The book. I could return the book I’d given Henry. Maybe leaving before anyone woke up would make life easier. Could I find my way in the dark? I wasn’t sure I should risk it. Either way, I had a whole day to figure it out. She was only due at the apothecary tomorrow.
Since I was wide awake, I decided to go down to the library and browse through some of the books. Without Miss Barnsby’s help, I struggled into my clothes, never entirely sure if I was doing it right.
I tiptoed down the stairs, cautious after the last time I had come down in search of food and found myself labeled a thief. The double doors to the library stood slightly ajar. The musty smell of aging paper and worn leather book covers welcomed me in. A flurry of sudden movement caught my eye. Isobel, in a passionate embrace with a young man, gasped when she saw me. Wisps of red hair escaped his ponytail. They were fully clothed but judging by their expressions they might as well have been naked.
It had all happened so fast and I felt terrible walking in on them. Both looked like scared teenagers caught having sex by a father with a shotgun.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, breaking the awkward silence that ensued. “I’ll just…”
“No, it’s I who must apologize,” the young man said to me, as he straightened his clothes and readjusted himself. A deep scar ran the length of his jaw, giving him a roguish look. “I must be going.” He looked nervously at Isobel and bowed to her. “Lady Isobel.”
“Mr. White.” She nodded to him as if he was being released from her service.
In a deer-like flurry of limbs, he dashed past me and slipped out the open window before I could say anything else.
“Isobel, I had no idea…” I started to say, when the earl came in and found both Isobel and I looking slightly stunned.
“Who is here? Was there a gentleman in this room?” He looked at Isobel for answers and ignored me completely. “I heard a man’s voice.” He was still dressed in his clothes from the previous evening, only they looked crinkled and bulging, like he’d fallen asleep somewhere and not made it to bed. Where had the earl been at this hour?
Isobel sat perched on the lounge chair, paralyzed. I wasn’t sure what kind of nineteenth-century wrath would be unleashed on a young woman caught fooling around, but I assumed it would be far worse than anything in my lifetime.
“Sorry, sir, I mean, Lord.” I felt like a babbling idiot under pressure. “That was me. I came in to look for a book and woke Lady Isobel. I must have startled her.”
“I heard a man’s voice.” He looked at me, challenging me to disagree.
“Well, I do sound quite manly at this hour in the morning. My throat is a bit hoarse.” I coughed to show him.
He scrutinized me and then turned his gaze back to his daughter.
“It is true, Father.” Isobel took up the lie I’d started as if it were her own. “I must have fallen asleep here and Miss Clayton gave me quite a start.” She looked at him, the image of innocence, her hand now resting on her chest like she was still trying to calm her frayed nerves.
“All right then. My apologies.” He left us and went upstairs, presumably to his room. When he was out of earshot Isobel and I both let out the breaths we had been holding.
“Miss Emma, you have saved me. I am forever in your debt.” Her face had started to regain color.
“I’m so sorry I walked in on you like that. I had no idea anyone was even up yet.” If this had been my friend April I would have peppered her with questions straight away.
Isobel gave a little guilty giggle. “I hate to imagine what would have happened if my father had discovered us.” We both played that out in our minds and frowned at the idea. “Well, I’m sure he’s had his fair share of indiscretions. Clearly he has not just come from his own bedchamber.”
So Mr. Uptight Earl was a wanderer. I imagined him with Miss Barnsby bent over the dining table and then shook my head to erase the image.
“So who was that boy? I think I’m entitled to a little gossip.” I watched as she considered my request.
She motioned me to sit next to her with a delicate hand while she adjusted herself more comfortably on the lounge chair, preparing to spill the beans. We sat no more than a couple feet apart.
“His name is William. He is so lovely. I think he’s been in love with me for some time, but wouldn’t admit it until recently. You know how men can be?” She took a deep breath as if to savor a memory of him. “We grew up together, you see. We used to play in the stables and on the grounds. We were inseparable. That scar on his cheek was from playing sticks,” she said with a proud grin. “Eventually my governess told my parents that it was unnatural for a girl to play with a boy, and with someone of his inferior birth no less. They were worried my delicate sensibilities would become corrupted, that’s what I overheard them saying. So he was sent off to school. And that was the last I saw of him.”
“That’s sad.” I couldn’t help but think of all the friends I’d had growing up who were from different socioeconomic backgrounds. Most of the time I’d even preferred the company of the boys to the girls in our neighborhood. I was such a tomboy.
“Yes, it was. We wrote for a while but eventually that stopped. We lost touch for years until we bumped into each other at the market in Oxwich last spring. He’s working in a law firm in town.”
“So what’s going on with you now?” It sounded like such a sweet love story.
“That’s it, I’m afraid. My parents would never entertain the idea of a courtship between us.” She looked at me like I had just lost my mind.
“Why not, if you love him?”
“Don’t be silly, Emma.” She gave my knee an affectionate squeeze. “He doesn’t have any land or titles. What kind of future could I ever expect to have?”
“Oh… I see.” Of course I should have clued in.
“He’s studying to be a barrister and the best he could do is make partner for Heany, Blake and Sons.” She pulled a pendant from inside her bosom and showed me. “He brought me this.” A smile returned to her face. It was a woven metal charm, like a birdcage, with what looked like a bird breaking free.
“It’s beautiful.” I held it up to admire it in the dim light.
“Yes, it is,” she said before tucking it back into her cleavage. “He is very sweet.”
“That’s why he was here?” I asked and Isobel blushed.
“Oh, Emma, it’s just hopeless.” One tear escaped her eye and slowly made its way down her face like a snail, leaving a slimy path in its wake. “Every time I think I should put a stop to his false hopes, I can’t bring myself to do it. He seems to have this power over me. When we are together it feels so nice and I know in my heart that I am his. I just want to hold on to that feeling for a little longer.”
Her words made me think of Lord Henry and then I wondered why they didn’t make me think of Ben.
Chapter 18
A Distraction
Isobel and I made plans to go shopping in town later that day. With breakfast finished, I retreated to my room in an effort to avoid Lord Henry.
Isobel’s troubles over William hit a little too close to home. I couldn’t quite make sense of the feelings I had for Lord Henry. Therefore, the easiest course of action was to avoid dangerous territory completely. A budding friendship with Isobel offered a welcome distraction. It felt nice to be myself without being scrutinized or judged. Just like Henry, she wore a mask around her family and behaved as she was expected to, hardly ever showing any kind of displeasure.
There was a knock at my door, but before I could even answer, Isobel came fluttering in with her arms full of garments and gowns.
“What’s all this?” I asked, not sure if I was in the mood for a fashion show.
“We have to find you something beautiful to
wear for the ball tomorrow.” She heaved the massive pile onto my bed and turned to size me up.
“Am I supposed to be there?” The truth was I had no desire to be part of the festivities and rather hoped that my inclusion would be overlooked.
“Well, of course you are. I checked with Mama and she insists.” Isobel looked happy to have me as her charge and I didn’t want to disappoint her.
“Oh, yeah, a ball, just like Cinderella.” I mimicked enthusiasm.
“I love that story. You’ve read the Grimm Brothers then? I much prefer the original French version, Cendrillon.” She snapped her fingers and spun around. “So I shall be your fairy godmother,” she said and we both laughed.
Isobel picked up the first dress on the top of the pile. It was a peach silk with dark lace trim and a gazillion ruffles. She held it up to herself and danced around the room. “What do you think?”
Then she lifted an oyster-colored dress to her chest and when my eyes didn’t light up she tossed it down too and picked up the next one.
“You should try this one on. I think it would accentuate your eyes.” It was a light green chiffon. My eyes were considered hazel but when I cried or wore certain colors they turned green.
Not wanting to be Debbie Downer, I stripped off. I was halfway out of my clothes when Isobel gasped. “What is that?” She sounded intrigued.
I looked down to my navel and realized that she was referring to my tattoo. It had been a part of my body for so long now that I hardly ever remembered that it was there. “A bird,” I said, feeling uncomfortable under the microscope. She came a little closer to inspect it.
“I can see it’s a bird, but I’ve never seen such a thing painted on a woman’s body.” She looked at it like a child examining an exotic bug for the first time, with wonder and amazement.
“It’s called a tattoo and it’s not really painted on. They use small needles filled with ink so that it doesn’t wash off.” It was a silly thing I’d done on a whim with some friends. We’d made a teenage pact to all get one, only once I was finished everyone else had chickened out. With only one visible wing it was a bit of an unusual-looking bird. I’d doodled it during one of my classes and was quite proud of it at the time. As soon as it was done I’d wished I hadn’t done it, but there was no turning back. The painful process of having it removed didn’t seem worth it, not to mention the expense of it. Hardly anyone even knew I had it. Even my father had never found out.
The Wayfarer: A Time Travel Romance (The Wayfarer Series Book 1) Page 10
