Samuel and William grinned knowingly at each other. Emeline stared at the blatant ruse Eve used to drag the soldier from the building so Samuel could make his way unnoticed from William Spencer’s home. As quickly as Eve left, Samuel Adams turned to Emeline and tipped his hat politely. He then followed Eve out the door as well, William shutting it firmly behind the man and setting the bar across the door once again, effectively locking them inside.
Alone.
Chapter 4
Emeline began to squirm in her seat as William stood there with his back against the door staring at her for what felt like forever. She felt like she was being scrutinized down to the smallest detail, as if he were looking for a flaw in her or in the story Eve had fed him. Glancing at him, she was intrigued as to why he looked so very familiar. She was not able to place him, but felt more and more uncomfortable as the minutes ticked by. She stared at different objects in the room. Occasionally, her eyes would glance back only to find him still watching her with a cautious look in his eyes. She was tempted to fan herself because the room was feeling increasingly warm.
“Hello,” she said, finally breaking the long silence. With no immediate response, she cleared her throat. Still, he said nothing. Looking at him nervously, she glanced away as she saw he was still watching. His golden eyes never looked away and she felt like he could see right through her. She was beginning to feel like she was trapped in the room and it was making her antsy.
“Good evening,” he finally answered, his lips twitching in what she thought was laughter. That just irked her and she knew her face gave it away by his wide smile. It really wasn’t funny to try to intimidate someone, especially if you were planning on marrying them eventually. Sheesh.
“I’m trying to be nice and polite,” she admitted, staring at her hands. Again, silence. He wasn’t saying much at all. This was going so very badly. She felt like she was naked on stage and forgot her lines. Her wretched hands were shaking and she was tempted to sit on top of them to stop the tremors. How was she ever supposed to hold a conversation if it was one-sided?
“Is it a struggle to do so?” she eventually heard his warm voice wash over her as she tried to relax by counting backwards slowly with her eyes shut. Hmmm, that is nice. If he could just talk and keep talking we might make progress.
“Not usually for me. You?” She cracked open an eyelid to see him still patiently waiting against the door. Was she supposed to invite him to sit in his own house? Nervously, she glanced up at him across the room from her, hesitating in doing so. She didn’t want to look like a fool during their first meeting. His lips were turned upwards in a smile that reflected his eyes.
“No,” he said simply, crossing his arms across his chest. His big, strong chest. Wow, where did that come from? she thought suddenly.
“Maybe we are starting on the wrong foot. I am Emeline Hastings,” she said politely, with an overly optimistic smile. Should she shake his hand? Did women do that? No wait, they curtseyed! Standing quickly, she dipped down like before in what she hoped was a proper curtsey, feeling so very awkward. The thick skirts felt so strange and cumbersome compared to the slacks she had worn daily at work.
“Spencer.”
“I thought your name was William?” she asked, confused. Had she misunderstood the conversations earlier between the two men? Emeline glanced up from her curtsey. I wish I had pockets, she thought idly as she clutched her hands together again to keep them from trembling. She wanted to hide her hands away in pockets like she did during staff meetings. Human Resources had told her that she was too animated and using her hands gave away that she was insecure speaking in front of others.
“It is. William James Spencer. Please, call me Will,” he explained easily, keeping his arms over his chest. Isn’t that a defensive or protective pose? she wondered curiously as she listened. “My father went by William. It is a bit formal for me.”
“Then why did you say Spencer?” she asked, looking at him curiously. This was freakin’ odd. Do you assume the name when you are promised to someone? Maybe they did away with the custom over the years because people didn’t bargain off their daughters anymore. A tool set, Eve? A darned tool set? Stanley isn’t even a great set! That’s a Home Depot special! Cornwell tools are supposed to be better. Sheesh!
“Because you said Hastings.”
“Well that’s my last name,” Emeline explained. Now who was dense? She just introduced herself, properly so, too, or she thought.
“Not any longer,” he said easily with a knowing smile, unfolding his arms and finally opening up. He gave a small bow politely. “Welcome to my home, Emeline Hastings Spencer.”
“Oh,” she said blankly. “But we aren’t married yet.”
“I’ve accepted your dowry. We’ll have someone stand with us on the morrow to say the words, if you want a public handfasting.”
“I thought we’d be married in a church,” Emeline countered, shocked. No ceremony?
“We can repeat our vows Sunday if you want,” he offered amicably with a warm smile that curled her toes.
“So just like that?” she said, snapping her fingers. “Just like that we are married?”
“Almost,” he said suddenly and walked towards her. Emeline leaped behind the chair and put it between them, causing him to hesitate.
“Emeline?” he asked with a questioning look. One brown eyebrow arched upwards as he stared at her, surprised by the quick action. “Are you afraid of me for some reason? Should we not marry?”
“I don’t know you,” she said honestly. Her heart was hammering. Fight or flight was in full panic mode as she held the chair between them strategically. She wanted to crouch down behind it or run.
How did people do this? How do you meet someone and bam, you’re married? That is pretty effed up, she thought. Eve, you want me to trust you but this has me wayyy out of my comfort zone! You hear me, Eve?
“And I don’t know you either but we can grow to know one another,” he offered gently.
“Don’t people go out together?” she asked amazed. This felt so foreign to her, so odd.
“Yes, people go outside all the time.”
“No, no that isn’t what I meant. Don’t you do things together before marrying? Go on walks or go to eat together?” She almost said, “go to a movie” but that wasn’t happening for quite a while!
“Not really. What is bringing this on?” William asked her, his expression confused. “Emeline, would you like me to take you elsewhere?”
“I’d like to get to know you before we, eh… we make things official in there,” she said blushing and pointing at the nearest doorway. A look of understanding crossed his expression and she let out her breath when she saw his soft, tender smile. He understood!
“Emeline, that is the entrance to the cellar. May I show you the house and, perhaps, we can talk in order to alleviate some of your fears?” he offered politely, rocking back on his heels and clasping his arms behind his back. He looked like he was thinking on how best to handle her. At his sudden smile, he took one step forward towards her. She took one step backwards, keeping the distance between them.
“Oh,” she said, feeling stupid at the mistake. “Yes, but…” she hesitated and then felt herself melt as William held out his hand to her over the chair between them. No pressure, just a silent offer. He was a real man, Eve had claimed. The man for her. Not some boy or a man with an agenda. So far, there were no cheesy pick up lines and he had been extremely courteous, but did she want more than that?
“I will never harm you. As my wife, you will be prized above all else,” he promised gently, causing her to glance up from his outstretched hand to his face. From across the room, he had been appealing. But up close, he was utterly gorgeous.
She stared at him, as if seeing him for the first time. He was ruggedly handsome with thick, dark hair that was straight along the top of his head but curled upwards where his hat must have sat earlier in the day. Dark brows framed his eyes. She not
ed that they were a warm golden-brown that looked like melted copper. Windows to the soul, she considered, feeling comforted she could see a tenderness in his eyes. His chin had a sprinkling of growth to it, casting a shadow along his strong jaw.
He looked so very familiar to her… wait a second! Hold the phone! she understood wildly. The dream she had the other night. He was the man with the golden eyes! The one that rocked her world and left her wanting for more when she woke up. She had cried when she had awoken, feeling so bereft at the separation. She thought about that electric touch and how perfect it had all seemed. Was dreaming about them together a sign that he would be entering her life? Eve said she had been given a preview. Was it of him?
“I’m trusting you,” she whispered finally, a silent plea as she stared at him. Trusting in this weird world she had been dropped into, she reflected carefully. She had nowhere else to go and she felt a pull towards him. She held out her hand, seeing it tremble, unable to make the final step in touching his. She wanted that sensation of peace she had felt in the dream. The feeling of desire, the sense of belonging. She craved it.
“I know you are,” William said gently. “I won’t betray that trust.” As if he sensed that she was taking a big step, he spoke softly as to not frighten her more. “This is new and different for both of us. We’ll grow together.”
Emeline saw her hand shaking, as if her fate hinged on this very moment. Could she do this? Could she actually go through with this and take a perfect stranger for her husband? Step into history with open arms? Feeling his warm hand curl around hers, she jumped instinctively as they shocked each other when their skin touched.
“Oh!” she yelped indelicately and abruptly started laughing. His golden eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. The rich timbre of his laugh washed over her and she felt a moment’s relief from the pressure being thrust upon her. Laughter together was good. She felt foolish being so nervous and, perhaps, she was overthinking it. People had one night stands all the time. What would be the difference between someone shagging a person in 2017 that they didn’t know, versus her shagging her husband that she didn’t know in 1770?
The difference was Emeline was not a loose woman. She was a virgin and had kept herself for someone special. Now, she was being challenged to let go of everything. Her history, her past. All those thoughts, those morals that made her who she was. The things that made up the old Emeline Hastings. She was letting all of that go and accepting a man she didn’t know into her life, into her bed. Glancing at him, she saw that he was watching her as much as she watched him.
“Come, Emeline,” William invited easily, grasping her hand and placing it on his warm arm. She could feel the strength in his hands as he lay a possessive hand over hers. His warm hand felt comforting on hers. “Let me show you around,” he offered politely.
It wasn’t a large house by any means, but he was obviously proud of it and rightly so. He had worked hard to put little touches here and there throughout the house. At the center of the house was a massive, stone fireplace and the chair he had pulled out for her sat beside it. There was a large table and a few other furnishings. He guided her towards the cellar door with a wry, knowing smile that caused her to blush.
Opening the doorway, she saw the creepiest set of stone stairs that looked like an entrance to the pit of hell. The musty smell that wafted upwards was not inviting in the least. She’d probably keep that door locked at all times due to seeing one too many scary movies. Oh, heck no! She would be avoiding that door if at all possible!
She listened vaguely as he explained that all their goods and supplies were stored down there. He blathered on for a few minutes, talking about how he had rows of candles dipped and ready, as well as an abundant supply of soap and jarred goods.
“The door sticks. So if there is a problem, there is a knife stored to jimmy the lock.” Nodding, absently she made a mental note to never, ever go down those stairs alone. Being stuck in the dark sounded like something out of a horror story and she had enough scares in the last day to last her forever.
There was also a narrow set of stairs towards the back of the house that led upwards but he steered her away from it. Instead, he showed her where he stored his tools on the shelves and his work in progress. It seemed that a lot of the bottom floor was his work area. He had several chairs on display, hanging on pegs along the wall that she didn’t notice before. Two large armoires as well as a small table were hiding in the very back. There were no electric table saw or large machines. He did this all by hand and it was impressive.
“This is really beautiful,” she said, admiring several of the pieces and attempting to make conversation. Stunned by the craftsmanship that must have gone into making them, she stared at the fine details. Once again, she was marveling at the amount of carvings the house displayed. Thistles and ivy were intricately woven into the mantel that had been polished with a wax of some sort. It was evident he was proud of his accomplishments as his face silently shone with pride.
“Whatever you’d like? I will make for you,” he offered politely. “I shall strive to make you happy.”
“That’s, uh … sweet,” she answered, feeling humbled and embarrassed by the offer. It was generous of him and she knew that he meant what he said. He seemed like he would be decent with her. Perhaps, they could grow to be friends in time.
“Emeline,” he said carefully, turning to her as if he knew she was skittish. She noted that she barely came up to his shoulders and had to look up at him when he said her name. That’s kinda nice, she reflected, knowing she was a tall woman. He has beautiful golden eyes. He took both her hands in his, holding them in front of him.
“Yes?”
“I think we would have a good marriage if you are amenable. We could say the words that shall bind us,” he offered. “But if you do not want to be my wife, I will not force myself upon you. I will need to return the dowry and take you elsewhere so your good name is not sullied by spending time with me alone. I’ll not ruin you.”
“What other dowry did Eve give you? Tell me it wasn’t just the tools,” she asked, feeling less than nothing. Worthless. Her life had sucked before and apparently the value of it was a measly thirty bucks, maybe sixty dollars? I’m really going to resent that, Eve!
“Gold coins and the finest set of tools I have ever owned for my work,” he said reverently. “A veritable treasure in exchange for a treasure.”
“Good comeback! Well, at least it wasn’t a cow,” she quipped, lightly trying not to preen under the compliment. He thought it was a treasure, wow! No skuzzy comments from him. I like that! she thought.
“No, but I would not be ungrateful for a cow either. I have an acquaintance that received several cows in exchange for his wife and they gave out fresh cheese as gifts for Christmas.”
“Oh freakin’ goody,” she whispered under her breath. Cheese for a present? So long modern gifts and shopping online! No more Lush bath bombs or stockings filled with candy for Christmas. People were happy to get cheese and that was just mindboggling. That was the equivalent of getting detergent for a gift in her book. No new Keurig machines. No microwaves. No, “hey you got married? Here is a crockpot!”
Cheese.
He would have been happy to get cheese or a cow, too. How… sad? Life was gonna be damned different now, apparently. People always said it was the little things that made you happy, guess that much will be true! She’d love a grilled cheese right about now, but that would take work. Serious, copious amounts of work! Milk the cow, ferment the cheese. Grow the grain, bake the bread. Churn the butter. On and on, the mental list rolled through her head. Sheesh!
“Are you disappointed that I would accept the generous dowry for your hand in marriage?” he asked her suddenly, interrupting her thoughts.
“No, just surprised that I’m marrying at all.”
“Did you not want to marry or have a family?” he asked, confused. “You are not old and very lovely. Does the idea of having a famil
y not appeal to you? I would want several children in our future.”
“I simply thought,” Emeline bit her lip, looking away, suddenly embarrassed. Children? Really? Boy, he got to the point fast, didn’t he? I guess that was the thing in this era: marry and breed. No favorite TV shows to watch together and no more fall lineup. No advancing careers or wanting to wait for a family.
“Thought what?” he quickly asked at her continued silence. He then prompted her again, studying her profile and clearing his throat. “I will tell no one Emeline, you thought what?”
“I thought I would marry when I chose the person,” she explained, looking anywhere but those piercing, golden eyes. “Not that you aren’t a nice guy but…”
“You thought you’d marry for love?” he finished quietly.
She nodded, embarrassed and looked down at her shoes. She stared at her slippered shoes compared to his rough boots. There were so many differences between them, so much that they didn’t know about each other. How exactly did women get over their anxiety when it came to an arranged marriage?
He released one of her hands and turned her chin upwards, gently forcing her to look at him. His finger practically hummed on her skin, the sensation between them felt so strong. “Do you think we cannot become important to each other?”
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, staring into his golden eyes. She had avoided looking directly into his eyes because it felt like he could see into her soul. His other warm hand rubbed across her knuckles like he was trying to reassure her or calm her down. She felt like her pulse would not quit racing. Every time it slowed down, he would do something or say something to make it pitter patter again.
“Exactly,” William affirmed with a gentle smile. “If you don’t know and I don’t know, then how can we give up an opportunity for happiness before we have even tried to get to know each other? I am willing to try,” he said, leaning towards her, dropping a light kiss on her trembling lips. The warmth of his lips was almost her undoing. She had been so cold before and felt like she was thawing. His heat, his warmth was tempting beyond reasoning. Hesitating momentarily, she heard him ask, “The real question is, do you want to try?”
Handfasted to You: Timeswept Soulmates (Timeless Brides Book 2) Page 5
