by Renee Ryan
Thirty minutes after her father left the house, Elizabeth was back in her room, studying the list. Other than wearing last season’s gown, she’d accomplished only one additional task.
Two down, eighteen to go.
Time was running out.
There had to be something she could do today, maybe even two or three somethings.
Several tasks appealed to her, some of which she could accomplish on her own. Two of them, Swing on a trapeze and Drive a motorcar, required a bit of cleverness on her part. The circus was scheduled to arrive in two days. There had to be a way for Elizabeth to sneak into the tent before one of the performances, or perhaps after. She would come up with a plan later this afternoon.
Drive a motorcar.
She could do that anytime she wished. Her father had taken a hired coach to the train station. His motorcar was still in the carriage house, just sitting there all alone waiting for her. Once she managed to get the engine started, where would she go?
As Elizabeth contemplated her options, Sally entered the room.
Hiding the list behind her back, Elizabeth smiled at the maid. “Good morning, Sally.”
“You wished for me to remind you of your dress-shopping appointment with your Aunt Tilly.”
“That’s today?”
Sally nodded.
The idea of being poked and pinned and prodded from multiple angles, then forced to parade in front of full-length mirrors held little appeal. New gowns could wait.
Decision made, she penned a quick note of regret, included a request to reschedule another shopping trip at her aunt’s convenience, then handed the letter to Sally. “Please deliver this to my aunt right away.”
The young woman hesitated before saying, “You want me to go?”
Surprised at the question, Elizabeth raised a brow, met the maid’s eyes, and said, “I want to ensure she receives my regrets long before we are due to meet.”
“Of course.” Sally sighed. “I will leave straightaway.”
One look at the downcast gaze made Elizabeth wonder at the maid’s reluctance. “You don’t wish to deliver the note.”
As if searching for an answer, Sally slid a glance around the room, her gaze latching onto the window overlooking the street beyond.
“On the contrary, I look forward to indulging in a bit of fresh air.” Still looking out the window, she pressed her lips tightly together. “Though I had better hurry if I wish to make the journey before the rain lets loose.”
Rolling thunder punctuated her words.
Before the maid exited through the adjoining door, Elizabeth called her back. “Once your errand is complete, take the rest of the day off.”
Sally eyed her a long moment. “I just had my half day on Sunday.”
“At least take an hour and practice your piano.”
Something close to pleasure entered the young woman’s eyes. Not for the first time since Sally had entered her life, Elizabeth wondered what the maid was hiding.
What was her story?
Her work was excellent, and her devotion to her position with Elizabeth was without question. Yet there was something not quite altogether true about the picture she made in her crisp uniform. The stunning young maid had a regal bearing more suited for the upper classes. And her skill at the piano spoke of extensive training, something Elizabeth had discovered quite by accident.
“You have a lovely talent,” she added by way of encouragement. “It would be a shame not to sharpen your ability.”
“If that is what you wish.”
“It is, yes.”
Smiling ever so slightly, Sally turned to go.
Several minutes later, the sound of a rumbling engine had Elizabeth rushing to the window overlooking the street below her bedroom.
At the same moment Sally wove her way through traffic with the hood of her cloak pulled low over her face, Luke climbed out of a fancy silver motorcar. He immediately went to work securing a black oilcloth to steel rods, eventually pulling the thick tarpaulin up and over the seats, thereby providing a sufficient covering from the incoming rain.
What was Luke doing at St. James House?
Maybe he was here for Elizabeth. What a promising thought. Hidden inside the drapery, she watched him look to the east and smile.
Following the direction of his gaze, Elizabeth noted the rain clouds rolling in, turning the sky a dismal gray. Her fingers curled around the paper in her hand. The list. Of course.
Of course.
Glancing at her entries, she read one of the items aloud. “Walk in the rain, barefoot.”
Oh, Luke.
Without thinking too hard about her actions, Elizabeth dashed out of her room and sped down the hallway. Moving at a fast pace that was as close to a run as possible without actually being a run—Girls of fine breeding do not run—she descended the winding stairs and entered the foyer.
Aldrich opened the front door, and Elizabeth drew to an abrupt stop. The skirts of her pale-green day dress whirled around her legs.
Luke stepped inside, caught sight of her, and smiled.
Her heart lifted and sighed. “Good morning, Luke.”
He peered around Aldrich’s stiff shoulders. “Good morning, Elizabeth.”
Dividing a glance between them, the butler looked about to say something, evidently thought better of it, then left them alone after executing a curt head bob.
And then there were two.
Elizabeth searched for something witty to say. “It’s good to see you.”
“And you as well, Little Bit.”
She was so pleased he’d come for her that she didn’t mind the nickname. In truth, the way the words curled off his tongue gave her a pleasant little jolt.
Lowering his voice to a sultry tone that sent shivers over her skin, he leaned in close to her ear. “It’s a nice day for a walk, wouldn’t you agree?”
Her breath caught in her throat. He had come for her. “I believe there’s a threat of rain.”
The smile he gave her curled her toes. “I hoped you would notice.”
This time, her heart didn’t just sigh, it screamed, Hallelujah. Luke had really, truly come to take her for a walk in the rain.
The moment lost its charm when the sound of purposeful footsteps drew to a stop behind her. Clearly, she and Luke were no longer alone.
“Luke, my boy.” Her grandfather’s booming voice ricocheted off the marble flooring. “You caught me just leaving for the office. But now that you are here, I have something I’d like to run by you.”
“But, Grandfather, he has come to—”
A flash of warning showed in Luke’s gaze before he focused his full attention on her grandfather. “Well, then it’s fortuitous I’m here.”
“Not anymore,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath.
Obviously hearing her, Luke shot another quick warning glance in her direction.
Oh, really. What did he think she would do? Jump into his arms and demand they conquer the seventh item on her list, properly, in front of her grandfather? As much as she would like to surprise both of these men with a bit of outrageous behavior, she wouldn’t dare do anything to upset her grandfather. She couldn’t bear the idea of losing his respect.
That, she realized, was part of the problem.
Elizabeth was obedient to the bone. She cared what others thought of her, especially these two men. Luke was still sending her covert warning looks, even as he spoke with her grandfather in a carefully modulated tone.
A part of her wanted to ruffle that sedate exterior, as much to shock him as to prove to herself that she could make him notice her, in a way a man noticed a woman.
With barely a word of good-bye, the two men left her staring after their retreating backs. They crossed the foyer and headed down the hallway toward the library.
Neither looked in her direction.
She caught a portion of their conversation, terms like chassis, horsepower, and petrol-powered engines. The same words Luke
and Jackson had tossed around last evening at dinner.
Elizabeth had no idea why Luke was discussing motorcars with both Jackson and her grandfather. Something to do with a business venture, no doubt, but she would never know for certain, because she would not be asked to join the conversation.
“Some things never change,” she said on a sigh. And they never would change if she didn’t take matters into her own hands.
If not now, when?
Craning her neck, she waited until the men disappeared around the corner. She continued waiting until she heard the creak of a door opening and then the click of it shutting closed again. Only then did she make a face.
Luke had all but ignored her once her grandfather had arrived in the foyer. Elizabeth was completely, totally, almost certain the man had sought her out to go walking in the rain.
Now that the idea of accomplishing the task with him was in her head, she couldn’t imagine ticking off that particular item alone, or with anyone else. But the opportunity was lost, at least for this morning.
That didn’t mean she had to stand here wringing her hands.
She hurried back to her room. Ever since her father had left for the train station, she’d been feeling out of sorts.
I will always love your mother.
The words echoed in her head. Around and around they swirled, mocking her, challenging her. What sort of love looked past the unforgivable?
She knew, of course. Only a love powered by the Holy Spirit could accomplish that level of selflessness.
Though she desperately wanted someone special in her life, Elizabeth feared she wasn’t capable of that kind of unconditional devotion. She feared she had her mother’s selfish heart. Only when she was tested would she know for certain.
The realization was a blow to her very core. Enough thinking. She’d spent far too much time in her head for far too long. Time to take action.
Throwing open her closet doors, she considered her clothing. Though she didn’t know what task she planned to accomplish, she knew she would need to wear a dress that would not draw attention.
A dark color would work best, the kind usually reserved for mourning. Appropriate, she thought, as she donned a dark-purple, rather boring gown. With each task she completed, she would shed another piece of the old Elizabeth and make way for the new.
After lacing up her black ankle boots, she grabbed Hester’s shawl. With the garment draped over her shoulders, she reviewed her list. Luke had indicated he’d come to take her walking in the rain. Well, not really, but she was going forward with that assumption.
Now that he was on board with her plan—surely, he was on board—she would attempt one of the tasks that didn’t require a partner.
Unless she waited for him to finish speaking with her grandfather . . .
Her eyes latched onto Kiss a man properly under the moon and stars. Elizabeth was relatively confident a kiss would be just as romantic in the rain. All it would take was a little patience and some quick thinking. Or . . .
Why not steal Luke away for the entire day? They could take in a vaudeville show. Though Luke hated the opera—they had that in common—he enjoyed the theater. They had that in common, as well.
Oh, how she longed to discover what other likes and dislikes they shared. If she could convince him to spend the day with her . . .
No, she couldn’t.
Could she?
Maybe. Possibly.
No.
Luke was a man of business. He had commitments, employees under his care. People counted on him. Once he left St. James House, he would head to his office and get to work.
Bottom lip caught between her teeth, Elizabeth studied the remaining items not yet crossed out, all eighteen of them. Eighteen! A staggering number.
Her eyes landed on number seven again.
When I kiss you properly, Elizabeth, you will know.
As the unveiled promise slid through her mind, her heart did a little jig. Stupid, stupid heart.
Frustrating, frustrating man.
How could Luke say something so provocative and then lecture her on the dangers of rule-breaking?
Elizabeth would very much like to show him . . .
Her eyes landed on the center of the page. Drive a motorcar. “How hard could it be?”
Ten minutes later, sitting in her father’s two-seater Oldsmobile, Elizabeth had her answer. Driving a motorcar was impossible without the proper training, something which Elizabeth did not possess.
What a dismal beginning. She couldn’t even start the engine. Frustrated but not defeated, she exited the car and, hands on hips, stared at the seemingly innocuous machine. Last night, Luke had told Jackson, Motorcars are the future.
Elizabeth stomped her foot in frustration. She knew the gesture was childish but found she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to be a part of the future, not stuck in the past. Yet, here she was, held back by lack of knowledge. A machine would not get the best of her.
With a soft whoosh of air, she put her back to the offensive vehicle, wrapped her arms around herself, and looked up at the sky. The earthy scent on the air and the pale, swiftly moving clouds promised a pleasant spring shower.
Could she?
Dare she?
The sound of motorcars passing by on the street ridiculed Elizabeth, highlighting her failure to start the engine of her father’s Oldsmobile. At this rate, she would be setting sail for England with less than half her list complete. Unacceptable.
She approached Luke’s silver motorcar.
One small step.
One tiny rebellion.
Not nearly good enough.
Elizabeth was through being tentative. The time had come for one large, bold step.
Luke would certainly be surprised and would probably return her to St. James House once he discovered what she had planned.
But maybe, just maybe . . .
She approached the car, looked over her shoulder, and listened for the sound of footsteps. It was nearly impossible to hear anything over the raging of her pulse in her ears.
With as much grace as possible, which was to say very little, Elizabeth crawled into the backseat, clicking the door shut behind her. She wiggled onto the floor, knees pulled up and wrapped inside her arms. Not enough covering. She pulled Hester’s shawl over her head and allowed the resulting darkness to embrace her.
The toe of her boot dug into something soft. A blanket. She threw that over her head as well, grateful for the additional covering.
Willing away her nerves, Elizabeth strained to hear something, anything. There was a drumming in her heart, an anticipation that had been building for weeks.
Not more than five minutes later, the sound of familiar male voices flowed over her.
“I’ll say one thing. You know your engines, Luke, my boy. I’m impressed with your vast knowledge and expertise. I predict a lucrative venture for us both.”
A low chuckle followed. “I look forward to working with you, Richard.”
Elizabeth shifted, lifting the very edge of the blanket for a better look.
The sun chose that moment to peek out from the clouds, shining over both men. But it was Luke who captured Elizabeth’s attention. The thin ray of light illuminated his hair, turning it a million shades of gold. He really was a handsome man. The straight, perfectly proportioned nose; the square jaw; and the cheekbones that could have been sculpted out of marble all spoke of his excellent breeding.
He would father beautiful children. She could see their blond curls, their beautiful tawny eyes. Elizabeth took a deep breath, tried to make herself as small as possible, and prayed she wouldn’t be discovered until she and Luke were away.
Even though she was watching him closely, she felt rather than saw a subtle change in him. His shoulders shifted, flexed, and then went still again.
She’d been found out.
Elizabeth took a quick, steadying breath and prepared for the worst. Closing her eyes, she waited for the inevi
table revelation, followed by the dreaded reprimand.
Nothing happened.
The men continued speaking as if neither had seen her.
Could she be so fortunate? She dropped the edge of the blanket and forced her breathing to slow down.
Their conversation had shifted sometime during Elizabeth’s quiet moment of panic. They were now discussing the private performance early next month at the opera house connected to Luke’s childhood home.
“Will I see you there?” Luke asked her grandfather.
“I’m afraid I have another engagement. I trust you’ll be there.”
Luke cleared his throat. “Of course.”
He sounded . . . troubled, more than the situation warranted, even for a man who disliked opera. Though Elizabeth would prefer to skip the performance, she was glad she’d accepted the invitation. She sensed Luke would appreciate an ally.
The engine roared to life, pushing the thought out of her mind. Elizabeth’s heartbeat caught the rhythm of the purring motor, and her fear of discovery disappeared as Luke put the car in gear.
From her vantage point on the floor, and with the stingy light of the darkening sky, Elizabeth could barely make out the back of Luke’s head. They bounced along the road, hitting a few too many bumps for her liking.
For a brief moment, she considered revealing her presence. But they were still too close to St. James House. Luke could easily turn around and deposit her on the very spot where this adventure had begun.
She held silent.
They hit another bump, and then another, and then one more, each hard jolt jarring Elizabeth’s body and rattling her teeth. She prayed the road would smooth out soon. Perhaps if she made herself smaller, the bumps wouldn’t hurt quite so much.
Tucking her knees up under her chin, she shut her eyes and proceeded to do complicated math problems in her head.
Fifty-two times twelve equals six hundred and twenty-four.
Bump.
Elizabeth’s chin slammed against her knees, sending the trail of numbers straight out of her head. If she didn’t know better, she’d suspect Luke was intentionally driving over every pothole in Manhattan.
