by Renee Ryan
As he had thus far, he responded with complete honesty. “You are known for your forward thinking and have a reputation for taking calculated risks. My father is more”—he searched for the right term—“conservative in his business dealings.”
“Ah, I see. Marcus likewise believes the financial risk isn’t worth the investment.”
“We both know otherwise.” Luke had done extensive groundwork before approaching Richard St. James. He’d visited several British automobile manufacturers while still living in England. On the whole, they were far superior to their American counterparts, especially in terms of engineering and design.
“I have weighed the advantages of the various cylinder designs, and the disadvantages. I understand the difference between several types of engines, but I admit there are gaps in my knowledge.” Luke paused. “As you already know, I plan to hire experts from England, engineers and mechanics with the necessary skills to make our venture a success. I wouldn’t have approached you otherwise.”
“Yes. Yes.” Richard leaned back in his chair. “I’m curious, do you prefer three-speed or four-speed transmissions?”
“Four.” He went on to explain why.
If Luke hadn’t been studying the shadowed planes of Richard’s face, he might have missed the respect in the other man’s eyes.
After a short pause, Richard nodded. “You will be pleased to know my son and I have approached the owners of Leighton Industries. After ironing out a few sticking points on both sides of the deal, they have agreed to our terms and will sell the company to us.”
“This is excellent news.” Luke couldn’t hold back a smile. Leighton Industries was the premiere maker of multicylinder engines. Buying the company would keep the entire manufacturing process within one house.
“Once we have a quality product,” Luke told the other man, “I’ll increase the company’s profile by organizing a series of weeklong races similar to the ones held in Nice, France. We’ll invite automobile clubs from around the country to enter their motorcars.”
Proving his mind was still sharp beneath the shock of gray hair, Richard asked pertinent questions regarding what constituted a quality product and the timeline for getting the proposed races up and running.
Luke explained his plan, candidly admitting there were several details that needed addressing.
“I’d like my son to weigh in on those.”
“Marcus has already agreed to meet with me.”
“Outstanding.” Richard asked a few more questions.
Prepared for each of them, Luke answered thoroughly yet succinctly.
At last, the older man rang for his secretary. The moment she appeared in the doorway, he said, “Please inform Mr. Montgomery we are ready to sign the contracts.”
“At once, sir.”
After she left the room, Richard addressed Luke once again. “While we wait for Jackson, I would like your thoughts on another, more personal matter.”
Sensing what, or rather who, the older man wished to discuss, Luke tried with limited success to swallow back a wave of trepidation. “All right.”
“I believe you are closely acquainted with my granddaughter.”
A weight settled in Luke’s stomach. If Richard knew just how closely acquainted Luke was with Elizabeth, the man would not sound so calm. “Elizabeth and I are friends.”
Something came and went in the other man’s eyes, a speculative gleam that warned Luke to be on his guard. “I understand she told you about her decision to go to England and why.”
“She mentioned it, yes.”
Richard watched Luke a long, tense moment, his expression giving nothing away. “I’m worried she is not as pleased with our plan for her future as she has led her family to believe.”
Luke knew Elizabeth was struggling with her decision. He also knew she had deeper concerns about her future. But to say so would reveal just how close he and Elizabeth had become. No matter how much he disagreed with her desire to rebel, Luke would not betray her confidence. Not yet. He still held out hope he could steer her in a less risk-filled direction.
“What makes you think she is having doubts?”
“She is showing increasing signs of strain.”
Frowning now, Luke turned Elizabeth’s situation over in his mind, viewed it from several different angles. He concluded her grandfather was correct. She was becoming increasingly more agitated.
He knew why, of course, at least in part. “The situation with her mother has hit her hard, perhaps harder than any of us have come to realize. She wants a fresh start, away from the memories, and believes moving to England is the answer.”
A pair of bushy white eyebrows traveled upward. “Elizabeth told you this?”
“Yes.”
“What are your thoughts on the matter?”
Luke didn’t hesitate to give his opinion. “It would be a mistake to send her to London at this time.”
Or ever.
The other man looked prepared to press for more information, but Jackson entered the room and said, “I understand you need me to witness your signatures.”
Later that afternoon, Elizabeth received a note from her cousin inviting her to dine at the newlyweds’ house that same evening. Though short notice, she accepted Caroline’s request with a combination of gratitude and relief. Elizabeth was still upset with her father and didn’t think she could face him so soon after their difficult exchange earlier that morning.
She could think of no better way to spend the evening than with Caroline and Jackson, two of her favorite people. More importantly, Elizabeth would not have to put on airs for their benefit. She might even take the opportunity to mark off another item from her list. Caroline was a master at cards. Her gift with numbers made her a fierce competitor, the perfect person to teach Elizabeth how to win. Because, really, what was the point in playing cards if not to win?
Feeling lighthearted, she alighted from the hired carriage at precisely seven o’clock. She could not help the wave of pleasure that coursed through her as the door swung open and she was greeted by a properly stone-faced butler. For all their claims of appreciating modernity, Jackson and Caroline were rather traditional in some ways.
Her point was further maintained when the butler accepted her cloak without actually looking at her, and then said in a cultured British accent, “Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery are in the green parlor.”
“And this is where?”
“One story directly above where we are standing now.”
“Thank you.”
Heading toward the sound of muffled laughter, Elizabeth climbed the center staircase to the second floor. At the top of the landing, she heard a familiar voice rise above the others. Her heart lurched against her ribs.
She stopped walking.
For several seconds, she stared blindly ahead, realizing she wasn’t the only dinner guest. Luke had been invited as well.
Elizabeth had not expected this. Her hand went to the locket she’d hung around her neck. Thumbing open the latch, she stared at the small piece of red silk nestled inside the oval casing.
Seeking a constant reminder for what she had to lose, and what she had to gain, Elizabeth had snipped off several pieces of fringe from Hester’s shawl and placed them in an assortment of lockets. The one she wore tonight was a cameo given to her by Penelope on her last birthday.
Luke’s laughter rang out, a very male sound that called to a very female part within Elizabeth.
Her feet began moving before her mind registered what she was doing. She snapped the locket shut and let it fall back to its place over the center portion of her bodice. The moment she entered the green parlor, her gaze tracked to Luke’s.
Those changeable amber eyes locked with hers. He lifted an eyebrow. She lifted one as well. And so began an odd battle of wills.
Briefly touching the locket, Elizabeth adjusted her smile to one of poised serenity. Her stomach became a frantic flurry of activity. Matters were made infinitely worse
when he returned her smile with one full of silent promises.
Something inside her stirred, unfolding like flower petals opening for the sun. She did not care for the sensation, because deep in a secret place of her heart, she enjoyed it entirely too much.
Caroline caught sight of her. “Ah, Elizabeth, you have arrived at last.”
The words had her blinking at her cousin. “I hope I’m not late.”
“You are right on time.” Caroline greeted her with a kiss to her cheek. “Luke only just arrived himself.”
Against her better judgment, Elizabeth glanced in his direction once again. All his fierce attention was still focused on her, which made it very hard to forget the last time he’d looked at her that way. Right after he’d kissed her.
The memory was too intimate, too personal, and so very wonderful. She swallowed a sigh and turned her attention to her cousin. “Are there more guests coming?”
“We are a small but intimate group of four. Now come.” Caroline took her hand and dragged her deeper into the room. “Say hello to the others.”
Jackson greeted her first, in the same manner as his wife had, with a kiss to her cheek. This was the man she’d nearly married. What a mistake that would have been.
Stepping in front of Jackson, Luke took her hand. “Good evening, Elizabeth.”
“Luke.”
Still holding her hand, he dropped his gaze momentarily over her dress. “New?”
“Yes.” She heard the defensive note in her voice. After much debate, she’d given in and worn the blue silk from Paris, but only after promising herself she would wear it again before the season was over. When she told Luke he would see the dress again in the near future, he did not smile. He did not give her a single sign of encouragement.
He did not let go of her hand, either.
The meaning behind his reaction wasn’t hard to discern. He still didn’t approve of her plan. Well, so what if she broke a few rules? What was the harm?
There is no such thing as harmless rule-breaking.
Elizabeth could practically hear him saying the words. She also became aware of the stretching silence that had fallen between them. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. It was so unfair. Luke’s very presence robbed her of thought. At least he seemed equally afflicted. Wasn’t that gratifying?
They were rescued from the awkward moment when Caroline suggested they go in to dinner since everyone had arrived.
Elizabeth took her place at the table opposite from Luke. She spent the first two courses ordering her heartbeat to calm. By the third course, her composure was nearly restored, and she was able to engage in polite conversation. Though the experience proved torturous from start to finish.
In such a small gathering, it was impossible to ignore the man seated across from her, though he seemed perfectly capable of ignoring her. He laughed as Caroline regaled him with a story about a street carnival she and Jackson had strolled into while in Venice. “The man juggled fire.”
“Actual fire?” Luke asked, as though this were a real possibility. “That must have been quite a sight.”
“It was, indeed,” Jackson claimed without a hint of irony.
Eyes narrowed, Caroline pointed at her husband. “The flames were on a stick, as you well know.”
“How would I know that?”
“You were there,” she reminded him.
“True, but I was too busy watching my beautiful wife to notice something as mundane as fire on a stick.”
“Good answer.” Caroline beamed at her husband. Jackson matched her smile. Something very sweet, very personal passed between them.
Elizabeth looked away, uncomfortable witnessing the moment. A twinge of sadness nipped at her. She wanted that sort of closeness with a man she loved, who loved her in return. Her attention returned to Luke. For the first time all night, his gold eyes softened as they held hers.
In the flickering light of the wall sconces, his features took on a turbulent edge, a man with secrets that continually haunted him. Elizabeth longed to reach out and soothe away his pain. She curled her hands into fists. She supposed some women might find Luke’s mysterious aura appealing. Not Elizabeth. Except that, of course she did. She found everything about him appealing.
The fourth course was set in front of her. Her appetite gone, she made a project of cutting the roast duck and pushing it around on her plate. Under normal circumstances, she would consider tonight’s dining experience a pleasant respite from what would have been a tense evening with her father. These were not normal circumstances. Any event with Luke in attendance took on a different feel.
“Is the duck not to your liking?” His rich, velvety voice deprived her of logical thought.
“On the contrary.” She speared a piece of meat with her fork and forced a smile. “It’s quite wonderful.”
“Such certainty, and yet”—he dropped an amused gaze to her plate—“you haven’t taken a single bite.”
She looked down. “I was speaking of the previous course.”
His mouth quirked up at one corner. “Of course you were.”
She took the bite, studied his handsome face as she chewed. Luke sampled his own duck, his gaze never moving from her face.
Only when Jackson said his name did he break eye contact and answer a question about the possibilities of a six-cylinder engine, whatever that meant. The discussion segued into a lengthy dissertation on automobile manufacturing. With nothing to add, Elizabeth listened in fascinated silence. The brief interlude gave her time to recover her equilibrium.
She cut a glance across the table, noticed her cousin wasn’t engaged in the conversation, either. Instead, she was watching Elizabeth. Closely. Intently.
Elizabeth looked down at her plate, then just as quickly glanced back up. Caroline was still watching her, just as closely, just as intently. Then she looked pointedly at Luke, back to Elizabeth, back to Luke again.
With each pass, Caroline’s expression turned more and more thoughtful. Speculation glimmered in her shrewd gaze.
Alarm filled Elizabeth. Her cousin knew. She knew Elizabeth had feelings for Luke. Her suspicions were confirmed when, at the end of the meal, Caroline suggested the two of them leave the men to their business.
“You don’t wish to join us?” Jackson asked, looking perplexed. No wonder. Though it was tradition that the men and women separate for a time after a meal, the newlyweds were anything but traditional.
“We will join you, eventually. But first”—Caroline linked arms with Elizabeth—“I want a nice long chat with my cousin.”
Chapter Thirteen
Caroline waited until Jackson and Luke left the dining room before she untangled her arm from Elizabeth’s. Peering into the hallway, she let out a quick breath of air, then swung around to face Elizabeth directly.
She wasn’t sure what she saw in her cousin’s eyes, but Elizabeth had a feeling she knew what Caroline wanted to discuss. Not wanting to know, she spoke first.
“That was a lovely dinner,” she said, innocence itself. “Your cook should be commended on her skill.”
“I’ll pass along the compliment.” Caroline stepped closer. Close enough to reveal the speculative gleam in her eyes. “You like him.”
Elizabeth nearly gasped at the blunt statement. Thanks to her mother’s training, she was able to hide her reaction behind a flat, congenial smile.
“Jackson is really quite wonderful,” she declared, rather pleased with her quick-wittedness. “I deem him the perfect match for my very most favorite cousin.”
It was a deliberate misunderstanding, Elizabeth knew. Apparently, Caroline recognized the tactic as well. Hands planted firmly on her hips, she released a long-suffering sigh.
“I am your only cousin.” An impressive eye roll accompanied this statement. “And we both know I was referring to Luke.”
“Of course I like Luke.” Elizabeth gave a little huff of laughter to cover the nervous note she heard in her voice. “I like all my
friends.”
Another deliberate misunderstanding, but if she admitted the truth out loud, even to Caroline, she would no longer be able to pretend she felt the same for Luke as she always had.
Unfortunately, her feelings were growing stronger, deeper, becoming the kind that lasted a lifetime. And now someone had noticed. Not just anyone, either, but her observant cousin.
“You consider Luke nothing more than a friend?” Caroline asked this with no small amount of skepticism.
“That’s right.”
Caroline leaned in closer, her green eyes unwavering. “So, you and Luke aren’t—”
“There is no me and Luke.”
One dark brow arched.
“If you don’t believe me, ask him.”
“Perhaps I will.”
What a horrifying, terrible, awful thought. “Please don’t.”
“Elizabeth.” All signs of teasing left Caroline’s eyes. “What’s going on with you? I’m worried. You aren’t your usual carefree self.”
She couldn’t argue the point. “A lot has happened since you left for your honeymoon. A lot has changed in my life.”
Everything has changed.
“I get the impression that Luke has something to do with your agitation. He’s become important to you, perhaps more than you know what to do with.”
How could her cousin know that? “We are friends, nothing more.”
“Oh, it’s more. In fact”—Caroline paused, as if needing a moment to gather her thoughts—“you look at him as I once looked at Jackson. And Luke looks at you the way Jackson once looked at me.”
“How, precisely, do we look at one another?”
“With longing.”
Elizabeth tried to laugh. The effort nearly choked her.
Swallowing, she waved a dismissive hand. It was either that or burst into tears. Her cousin was partially correct. But she had some of the particulars wrong. At least, in Luke’s case. “He thinks of me as a little sister. In his mind, I still have one foot in childhood.”
“You are quite mistaken. No man looks at a woman the way Luke looks at you and thinks of her as a child.”
“He calls me Little Bit.” She closed her eyes against the humiliation. “He’s been using that ridiculous nickname since I wore pinafores and ribbons in my hair.”
