London Calling

by Sorcha Mowbray

  Her mother lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “What if he does and you never say anything and he never says anything and the two of you miss out on an opportunity to have a beautiful life together?” She smiled. “I think that would be a far worse thing.”

  Trixie lifted her chin. “You’re right. I can do it.” She stood. “After all, I’ve flown an airship. And handled bankers and dockworkers. I can tell a man how I feel. And even if he rejects me, I’ll be just fine.”

  “If who rejects you?” Peter asked from the doorway.

  “No one,” Trixie and her mother said at the same time.

  Peter frowned. “Well, when you’re done plotting against the menfolk of this town, would you mind posting these letters when you go out this afternoon?”

  “Yes. Certainly.” Trixie took the envelopes from Peter.

  He shot a strange look at their mother then walked away shaking his head.

  “Now about those invitations,” her mother said. “Perhaps we can work on this stack together?”

  Trixie went back to her desk. “I promise to focus this time.”

  No sooner had they settled in to address the envelopes when the bell at the front door rang.

  Franklin, her father’s recently acquired man, greeted whoever was at the door. Peter’s muted voice floated through the open doorway. Trixie tried to not listen but she was curious about who would be dropping by so early in the morning. Immediately after, her father joined Peter and the visitor in the foyer.

  Their voices faded as they had retreated to her father’s office across the hall.

  Probably another of her father’s old colleagues coming to call after hearing the news that he’d miraculously returned from the dead, with accolades from the Queen for services to the crown, no less.

  She snorted to herself. Amazing how a little thing like a nod from the King brought the ton to your side in droves.

  Sometime later – exactly seven envelopes worth – her father appeared in the doorway. “Eva, would you mind assisting me?”

  “Certainly, dear.” Her mother gave the envelope she had been addressing one last flourish then set the pen on the desk.

  Trixie watched with a mixture of awe and a tiny bit of jealousy at the way her mother and father gazed at each other. Like there was no one they would rather see. Maybe one day she would be so lucky.

  She snorted. And hopefully it wouldn’t require them being taken prisoner by a crazy person to appreciate their feelings for each other.

  “Trixie, do you have a minute?” Peter asked from the door.

  “Do you have another errand for me to run this afternoon?” Now that her father had returned along with Peter, there wasn’t as much at Panhurst Air that needed her attention. She had taken to running errands for her parents as well as Peter to try and stay busy.

  She gratefully set her pen aside.

  “No, nothing like that. I just wanted to make sure you were free.” He looked over his shoulder. “There’s someone who wants to speak to you.”

  “To me?” She turned in her seat. “Whoever would—” The words died on her lips when Nathaniel appeared behind Peter. She quickly got to her feet. “Nathaniel. What are you—” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I mean, when did you return to London?”

  Nathaniel stepped around Peter. “Late last night.”

  “I, uh—” Peter pointed to the back of the house. “I need to check on my carriage. Excuse me.” He quickly disappeared around the corner.

  Trixie frowned.

  “May I?” Nathaniel asked, gesturing to the sofa.

  “Yes. Do have a seat.”

  “Thank you,” he murmured. He sat the package he carried on the table in front of him.

  She sat in the chair she had been using. “How are you?”

  “I’m well. How are you?”

  “I am well also, thank you.” She straightened an imaginary line in her gown. He seemed nervous. What would he have to be nervous about? Perhaps he had news of the Duke. “Is everything finished on the island?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  Her hope that he might be home for good faded.

  “But a couple of the other RIO officers have been assigned to finish collecting evidence. I have everything I need to file my report.”

  “Do they still think they will be able to get a ruling against him?”

  He shrugged. “His family has a lot of money and connections so it’s hard to say. I know I’ve done my part to the best of my ability. And the Queen is now aware of his plans. So even if his family manages to set him free, he’ll be forced to leave the county.”

  “Good.” She tapped the desk with her finger. “Although, I for one, hope he sees the noose.”

  “With good reason.”

  “What about the other families?” she asked.

  “They’ve all been reunited. Some of them better than others. But at least everyone has been freed.” He shuffled his feet. “The most amazing part of it all is that other than Mr. Silverton and four of the Duke’s hired men, no one was killed.”

  “Mr. Silverton was the older scientist who died while in captivity, correct?”

  “That’s right. But even your father said it wasn’t due to poor treatment.” Nathaniel shrugged. “Although the pressure from the Duke’s deadlines may have contributed.”

  “How could one man affect so many lives and not feel any guilt over it?”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  They fell silent for a moment.

  “I brought you a gift.” Nathaniel gestured to the package.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Open it and see.”

  She moved to the sofa. He made room for her to sit next to him. She plucked at the string on the box and untied it. As soon as she lifted the lid the smell of butter and chocolate tickled her senses. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Are those Mr. Henderson’s?”

  “Of course.” He grinned. “I had rather hoped to arrive before mid-morning tea so I could share those with you.”

  Without even looking inside she set the box back on the table. “I’ll ask Mrs. Ellison to bring us a tray.”

  She hopped up and practically skipped to the kitchen. When she returned she found Nathaniel staring out the window. His hands were clasped behind his back and he appeared to be deep in thought.

  She stood in the doorway for a moment and drank in the sight of him.

  His jacket fit across his shoulders just perfectly. His hair had just started to curl at the back of his neck. Probably due to his unexpected stay on the island. But she rather liked the look of it. In truth, she liked the look of everything about him.

  He turned toward her, startling her out of her thoughts. “Tea will be here in a moment.” She joined him at the window.

  “I assume your parents return has gone well?” he asked.

  “Yes. It seems all of London is all aflutter with the news of their return from the dead.” She chanced a glance up at him. “Of course recognition from the Queen sped that along.”

  He tipped his head. “I’m sure it did.”

  “I suppose we have you to thank for that?”

  “Actually, that was Carrick’s doing. He has the Prince’s ear, you know.”

  “No, actually, I didn’t. I suppose I shall have to send him a letter thanking him.”

  He glanced at her. “Thank him for what? Excessive social calls?” He snorted. “Hardly. Carrick hates them more than I.”

  “Still, it made their transition back into society much smoother. And it overrode all of those horrible accusations about father’s disappearance.” She touched his arm. “I can’t thank him enough for that alone.”

  He put his hand over hers. “Carrick has been on the receiving end of more than once. Believe me when I say he understands just how fickle the ton can be. It’s why we both avoid it like the plague.”

  They stood side by side at the window until Mrs. Ellison arrived with the te
a tray. “Here we go,” she said brightly as she breezed into the room. She set it on the table. “Can I bring you anything to go with the tea?”

  “No, thank you, Mrs. Ellison. The tea is enough.” Trixie said as she sat on the edge of the couch.

  Mrs. Ellison smiled at Nathaniel then returned to the kitchens.

  “Shall I pour?” she asked Nathaniel.

  “Please.”

  Her heart flipped in her chest when he sat beside her instead of in the chair across from her. She poured for both of them then gestured to the box. “Would you care for one?”

  His lips twitched. “Of course.”

  “Well you never know. You might have—” She stared down into the box, unsure of what she was seeing. In the middle of the box, surrounded by a half dozen pastries, sat a small jeweler’s box. She glanced at Nathaniel in confusion.

  “Go ahead,” he encouraged her. “Open it.”

  She took the small box out then set the pastry box onto the table. Her hands shook as she lifted the lid. Inside sat the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. A single diamond surrounded on each side by a ruby that had been encased in gold scrollwork. “It’s—” Words failed her. She was afraid to speculate what the ring might mean. She was afraid to breathe for fear that she might be dreaming. Finally she mustered the strength to look at Nathaniel.

  He took her free hand then got down on one knee next to the couch.

  “Trixie, we’ve known each other for almost a decade. When you left, six years ago I was deeply hurt.” He held his hand up to stop her from interrupting. “It was as if someone had turned off the light in my life. So I left. And when I returned, your life had changed and quite frankly, so had mine. But when I found you in that file room I realized the things that mattered most, hadn’t changed.”

  She sniffled back tears. “What things would those be?”

  “Like the way your eyes light up when you describe something you are passionate about.” He tipped his head toward the table. “Or the way you savor every single morsel of those pastries. And the way you stand by the people you love, no matter what.”

  He took a deep breath. “I know we only spent a few days together while we searched for Peter, but I want you to know how much those days meant to me. Some people in polite society might say that because we spent so much time together in private that we should be forced to wed.” Once again, he held up his hand to halt her objections. “Quite frankly, I don’t give a damn what those people say. I’m here, on my knee because I want to be. Because I spent the last three weeks without you by my side and I find that I don’t want to spend another day like that.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek.

  “I love you Trixie. I always have. I always will. I want you with me through thick and thin. Through sickness and health.” He took the box from her hand, removed the ring, and held it out for her. “Will you do me the honor of standing by my side for the rest of my life and becoming my wife?”

  Her lip quivered but she nodded. “Yes. I can think of nothing more I would rather do than to spend every day from now to eternity with you.”

  He closed the distance between them and sealed their affirmations with a kiss. When he pulled away they were both grinning like fools.

  He slipped the ring on her finger. “The jeweler said he could fit it to any size we needed.”

  “It’s perfect. I love it.” She looked up at him. “And I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Our marriage won’t interfere with your work with the RIO, will it?” She bit her lip, almost afraid of his answer.

  “Some.” He touched her lip and smiled. “Instead of a lonely bachelor on the prowl, I’ll have the perfect cover as a happily married man traveling with his beautiful wife on his arm. Invitations to events will be far easier to obtain.”

  “So does that mean I will go with you on missions?”

  He kissed her. “Anywhere I go, you go. But I will never allow you to be placed in danger.”

  “That’s all I ask.” She kissed him back.

  Never in a million years could she have imagined that she would here —with her mother, father, and her brother just down the hall, safe and sound— and that the man she loved, loved her in return despite her quirks and disregard of social norms. But, oh, how she looked forward to a lifetime of love and adventure.

  About the Author

  Dena Garson is an award winning author of contemporary, paranormal, fantasy, and sci-fi romance. She holds a BBA and a MBA in Business and works in the wacky world of quality and process improvement. Making up her own reality on paper is what keeps her sane.

  She is the mother of two rowdy boys, two rambunctious cats (AKA the fuzzy jerks), and a loving Labrador. When she isn’t writing you can find her at her at the sewing machine or stringing beads. She is also a devoted Whovian and Dallas Cowboys fan.

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