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An Earl in Time Page 4
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Page 4
The maid’s words penetrated Julia’s consciousness as she gazed around the room. With a smile, she faced the maid. “No, thank you, Millie.”
“Just ring if you need anything. If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”
Julia nodded, and Millie curtsied. After the door closed, Julia shook her head. Wow, would she ever get used to being waited on? Wait, she wouldn’t need to. She was leaving in a week.
Walking around, she took in the layout of the room and its furnishings. A four-poster bed with curtains dominated the room. The cream wallpaper sported a delicate flower print and accentuated the splashes of color placed artfully around the space. A white molding ringed the ceiling, and rich Oriental rugs covered the oak floor.
She ran a finger over the mahogany wardrobe that stood in one corner. A simple fireplace took a portion of another wall. The simple elegance of the furnishings caused her to sigh in satisfaction. After thoroughly exploring the room, she sat down on the bed, and her thoughts soon swept her away.
Time escaped her before a knock ripped her out of her reverie. “Come in.” She was bored enough she didn’t care who it was.
Abigail swept into the room. “How have you settled in, my dear?”
Julia gave her a tentative smile. “About as well as can be expected, I guess.”
“You’re doing just fine.” Abigail’s gaze flashed to the gown Julia wore. “Do you have any other clothes?”
She looked down at the wrinkled mess of her dress. Oh, how she wished she did. “No.”
“I didn’t think so. I remember that research scientists travel light. Since we don’t have much time, we’ll go to a modiste tomorrow morning and see what premade items she has. They should be able to be easily altered to your exact specifications. We’ll also place an order for a suitable evening gown you can wear to the rout. Since tomorrow will only be Tuesday, there’ll be sufficient time for Madame Francois to fashion something.”
Julia’s head spun. So much had happened in the last half day, she couldn’t process everything.
Abigail sat next to Julia and patted her hand in that motherly way she had. “I promise you it won’t be so bad.”
“I know. It’s not the clothes, but… everything.”
“Everything largely being my grandson?”
Julia nodded. “He’s complicated a situation that could’ve remained pretty straight-forward. And under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t be adverse to him.” Julia hated to say more if James hadn’t mentioned the real reason he was keeping her here. She didn’t want to plant ideas in Abigail’s head, not that the woman would even approve of Julia as James’ future wife.
“I know my grandson can be quite persuasive when he wants something, and he wants you. And I can see why he does.”
Julia’s face heated. James wasn’t keeping his intentions hidden in the least, was he? “I can’t fall in line with his plans. I have a life back in my time— a career, friends, parents.”
Abigail’s face creased in sympathy. “I had all those, plus a fiancé, when I had to decide whether to stay with James’ grandfather or go back to my old life. While I miss certain people and aspects of modern living, I wouldn’t change a moment of my life here. In the end, Ian was more important than them all. Plus…” she trailed off. “No, you’ll find out about that if the time comes, not before.”
Julia could only nod, not sure what the last bit had been about.
The other woman rose from the bed. “I bet you’re quite tired after your eventful trip. I’ll bring you a nightgown. You’re an inch or two shorter, but it should do for now.”
“Thank you for all you’ve done.”
Abigail waved it away and then scowled. “After what my grandson has done, it’s the least I can do.” Her quick smile returned. “Don’t fear. If you wish to leave after your mission, he’ll let you. Even if he wouldn’t, I’d release you when he wasn’t looking. All I ask is that you try to enjoy yourself here and give James a chance. You’ll find I’m a very forgiving chaperone if you want to spend some time with him,” she added with a wink. “Forget about the future for a while. A choice will have to be made regardless, so it’s best not to stew about it from the beginning.”
“I’ll do my best.” Julia rubbed her arms. Why did she feel like she’d promised something it would’ve been wiser not to?
****
Julia entered the dining room, hoping the earl wasn’t eating breakfast. When she saw him, she nearly groaned. Talk about bad luck. He looked up from the newspaper he was reading and smiled. Her mouth went dry. He looked delectable.
His fawn-colored tailcoat molded to his shoulders and chest, and his cravat drew attention to his strong jaw. She ripped her gaze away. It wouldn’t do to stare at him and give his already big head an ego trip.
As she walked to the table, she turned her attention to the room. An exquisitely carved marble fireplace rested against one wall, and gilded friezes decorated the beige walls. From the center of the ceiling, a chandelier hung from a medallion. The hardwood floor gleamed. A poker-faced footman in livery stood in attendance along one wall.
Before she knew it, she stood by the table, where the earl had risen from his seat. Her panicked mind whirled in chaos. Oh dear, why was he standing? She was sure it had something to do with him being gentlemanly. He was so much harder to resist that way, and by the knowing smile on his face, the horrible man knew it.
She dropped her gaze, determined to ignore him and his courteous manner. An assortment of foodstuffs was laid out on a sideboard. The aroma that wafted from that area caused her stomach to growl. Pretty china and silverware sat at two places on the table— one before the earl and the other beside him. She gulped. The place setting had to be for her, and it looked like the earl had been waiting for her to arrive before he ate.
“You may sit beside me if you like.”
It was the only place to sit unless she wanted to move the plates and utensils. She glanced up, wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, but couldn’t think of a good reason to refuse. In the end she settled on a nod.
He pulled out the chair and, with a hand on her shoulder, guided her into it. His touch burned through the white morning gown she and the duchess had picked out that morning at the modiste. She closed her eyes in an attempt to regain control of her runaway emotions as he scooted her forward. A gentleman to the last drop, that one.
“Jennings, you are dismissed,” the earl said. The footman bowed and left the room. “I’ll serve you. Would you like some toast and eggs?”
A man who would serve her, and one who was a lord no less? Her toes curled. Heaven help her, he was too good to be true. “That all sounds delicious. Thanks.” By some great miracle, she managed to keep her voice even.
Behind her, serving dishes rattled, and silverware clanged as James did his thing. Stepping back to her side, he leaned forward to set a plate before her. She froze, intimately aware of how close he was to her. Was it her imagination, or was he lingering a long time after setting her food down?
She turned her head slightly and met a pair of green eyes staring intently at her. His lips parted and neared hers. Suddenly, she wanted, feared, his kiss like nothing else. Her warring emotions felt like they were tearing her body apart. She couldn’t do this, not with a man from a different age. With a jerk of her head, she turned her face away from him.
Her action was met with a sigh, and he went back to the sideboard, his tread sounding heavier than before. Her previous hunger evaporated, and she refused to touch her food. After a few minutes, he deposited his plate on the table. “You should eat. It’ll get cold,” he said quietly.
She didn’t reply, but picked up her fork and picked at the eggs.
He headed to the sideboard again and brought back hot chocolate and coffee. The hot chocolate found its home beside her. A twinge of amazement sped down her spine. How had he known she loved hot chocolate? Was it just a pleasant coincidence or something more, like a sign? She scoffed and
discarded the idea. Being fanciful would get her nowhere.
Once he returned to his seat, the constriction around her lungs eased, and she breathed freely. She glanced at him through her lashes. He was staring at her. Great blazing laser guns, he wasn’t going to make this easy on her. Her mind spun for a reason, any reason, to abruptly end this emotionally taxing breakfast. “Won’t my reputation be in tatters if we’re left alone?”
He arched a brow. “In the dining room with the door wide open? And my grandmother in residence? I think we can both be counted on to remain in a decent state.”
She flushed. Though she wasn’t completely convinced, he’d made some logical points. Not that her reputation mattered, really. She’d be gone before she knew it. “Why’d you tell your footman to go?”
He leaned back in his chair. “I thought we’d be able to converse easier without open ears nearby.”
“That’s thoughtful, but with the door open, won’t our conversation still be heard.”
He shrugged. “Maybe, but only in part. The servants know better than to loiter outside rooms.”
Not wanting to pursue the subject any longer, she switched topics. “Your grandmother is an amazing woman.”
He smiled. “That I know.”
“You seem very close to her.”
“I am. She and my grandfather raised me for most of my childhood.”
So his mom and dad hadn’t been on the scene? Was it her, or had his mood soured a bit? She bit her lip, hating the bad feeling she got about this. “What happened to your parents?”
His mouth twisted. “My father spent most of the time with his lovers. My mother was unfortunate enough to love the fool.”
She made a sound of sympathy, but he cut it off with a bark of laughter. She flinched. It wasn’t a pleasant sound.
“Don’t feel too sorry for her. She grew tired of waiting for my father to notice her and decided to play his game. I was twelve when she disappeared with her lover.”
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She swallowed to get rid of the dry feeling. “Wha…what happened to her? Did she ever come back?” Something told her no. Maybe it was the old hurt and anger that seemed to permeate the air around him.
“She never came back and has been presumed dead.” His voice held no emotion.
She dreaded asking but had to. “Your father?”
“Same story. Presumed dead after a number of years. He chased after her and her lover. Somehow, they all ended up on the same ship headed for France. The ship sank. While their names were on the ledger, all bodies, except theirs, were recovered.”
Julia shook her head in stupefaction. His story was tragic and left so many unanswered questions. It upset her just to hear about it, but to live through it? No wonder he’d professed love to be an abhorrent emotion, if his parents were anything to go by. “That’s terrible. I’m glad you had your grandparents to look to for guidance and comfort.”
Then she thought of another potentially upsetting question but decided to ask, anyway. “Your grandfather— I haven’t seen him around, and your grandmother hasn’t mentioned him but in passing. Is he still… alive?” Being so blunt made her wince, but she couldn’t think of another way to phrase it.
James surprised her with a big guffaw. “He’s alive and hale. But he’s not one much for the Season, so he often leaves early. My grandmother normally does too, but she stayed behind this time to supervise the renovations.” He shook his head. “If you could only see how he loves to send my grandmother into fits, you’d know why I laughed.”
She smiled. “I can imagine. Your grandmother is full of vitality, so I assume your grandfather is a fair match for her?”
“Indeed, he is. They drive each other to distraction but still love one another passionately.”
For some reason, she hoped he saw not all marriages were like his parents’. “So, that’s a love story that turned out.”
“Unlike my parents’?” he asked sardonically.
Yep, he drew that parallel quickly.
“I know some couples are blissfully happy. But for every one contented marriage, there’s ten more that are miserable or at least based on convenience.”
“I thought a lot of men of your… station don’t mind marriages of convenience.”
He shrugged. “I cannot speak for them, but I do nothing half-heartedly. It’s all or nothing.”
His sentiments sparked a seed of passion within her. Even in her day of equal rights for women, most men sought the easy way out. Frustrated longing for something she never knew she wanted tightened around her chest like a vice. Why did he have to be born centuries before her?
“It sounds like your future wife will be very lucky.” She cursed her inconsequential words, but they were all she could bring herself to say.
A small chuckle shook his shoulders. “I don’t know about that. I’m sure I’m not the easiest man to live with.”
“What man is?”
He inclined his head. “Well put. You won that round.”
“I wasn’t aware we were keeping track of our verbal volleys.”
“I carefully note everything about you.”
Her cheeks heated. “Thanks, I think.”
“Before this week is over, I’ll have made a thorough study of you.” He leaned in closer to her. His breath fanned against her bare neck as he whispered, “If I were you, I’d prepare myself because I always get what I want. And I want you.”
“Ah…” Her voice failed her. Good thing, too. What could she say to him other than Oh my, can I just melt into a puddle of trembling goo? After marshaling some control, she forced herself to give what she hoped was a neutral response. “We’ll see about that.”
****
The days sped by for Julia. As promised, Abigail left her and James alone on many occasions. Julia and the earl talked in his study, reading passages from favored books and talking of her world and his. Many times they could be found walking amongst the bushes and flowers of his little enclosed garden behind the townhouse. They also enjoyed breakfasts and dinners together, though his grandmother was often present for the latter.
During most of those occasions, James continually pushed the envelope of what she defined as “professional distance,” and sometimes totally obliterated it with little touches and caresses. Though Julia hated to admit it, his attentions were doing exactly what he’d promised they would— all her defenses were disintegrating to his wooing.
Friday arrived, and James surprised her by leading her to his garden for an impromptu— or so he claimed— picnic luncheon. As she surveyed the area, she didn’t believe the impromptu part, because a little gauzy tent-like structure had been erected by some of the footmen. In it, they’d placed a table and two chairs. Cold meats, cheeses, breads, and tarts— not to mention plates, silverware, and other items— all had their place on the table.
The warm day provided the perfect backdrop for the picnic, though she found London a lot more polluted than she’d expected. A haze always hung over the city like a dome. Homesickness hit her like a wave. She’d grown up in a small town where the air was clean. Funny how so many things made her think of home.
Locking those thoughts away, she spun on her heel to face him. “I think you planned this picnic in advance. Admit it.” She speared him with her best soul-stripping stare.
He raised his in mock defeat. “You’ve caught me. Please, be gentle.”
A carefree laugh slipped from her. “You’re under arrest, mister.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. How about if I run?”
“I’ll chase you down.”
“Will you?” He placed a finger to his cheek as if in thought. “I think I’d much prefer chasing you down.”
She sped away with a giggle, though an inner heaviness weighed her down. The logical part of her said to stop their fun and games. Nothing could come of her and James. But a stronger, more emotional part of her screamed at her to enjoy every moment she had with him. As she l
istened to the latter, her pace slowed.
James followed behind, surely letting her escape more than once. He would grab at her, only to miss. The faux scowl on his face slipped now and then, and the smile that leaked through almost knocked her to her rear-end each time she saw it.
Out of breath, she slowed down by a stone bench. Hands closed around her shoulders and spun her around. She gazed into James’ eyes, the green depths mesmerizing her. He lowered his face toward hers.
“Do you yield?” he asked, his breath fanning across her lips.
“Yes.” The word slipped out before she could consider the consequences.
His mouth descended, capturing her lips. At first, the kiss remained sweet, and light touches reigned. Her lips parted, and his tongue sneaked in to explore the warm recesses of her mouth. The kiss was unlike any she’d experienced before. It set her toes on fire.
Her hands slid around his neck, and she deepened the pressure of her mouth on his. He groaned, his hands wandering up and down the sides of her waist. After the need for air hit her, she pulled away and smiled tremulously.
He cupped her cheek in his palm. “I saw stars during that kiss. It was… as if for a moment I traveled outside my body in a jumble of sensation.”
James had nailed it— the emotions and feelings that were still flooding her body and soul. She raised her hand to cover his, and they stood in silence for a while.
“Come, let us eat.” He drew her by the hand to the table and seated her. Floundering in a sea of confusion, she let him serve her. Why had she kissed him? It had been a supremely stupid thing to do. She couldn’t afford to fall for him, not when she planned to return to her time.
The food tasted like ash in her mouth as she berated herself. She barely knew the man and needed to be more careful. He was courting her, and only a naïve person believed the face a man presented during that time was one hundred percent real. It was too easy to fake charm and affection during the chase. No, it was “the afterward” that concerned her. One week wouldn’t give her the time to dig through the false facades to find the genuine person underneath.
That kiss had to be a one-time occurrence.