by Kit Morgan
The countess scoffed and muttered an insult, but he didn’t care. He had to get to Tory – not because she was scared or needed comforting, but because he had an unexplainable excitement building in him he couldn’t contain.
She looked as excited as he felt. “Did you see that?” she exclaimed when he reached her. “That was awesome! Woo!”
He laughed. “It was most thrilling.”
“And you were only watching,” she said. “Imagine how I felt. What a rush.”
He laughed some more. He saw her in a new light now. She was from another place and time. So many questions popped into his head to ask her, but they’d have to wait. He could do nothing until he knew he held her heart. “Your face is red.”
“You think? Man, you should try it. Though I doubt I would have volunteered if she hadn’t shot an apple off Emsworth’s head first.”
He glanced at the butler, who was just putting on his jacket. The old fusspot probably hadn’t wanted to get pieces of demolished fruit on it. “Indeed.”
“Why don’t you try it?” she suggested. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” She glanced at the other house guests. “Besides, don’t you want to be part of a scandal?”
He grimaced. “I don’t wish to give them any more fuel.”
“I don’t see it that way. Cozette’s a good shot, a professional. She must do archery competitions. I’ll have to ask her later.”
He eyed the guests, looked at Cozette as she waited for Emsworth to retrieve her arrows, and nodded. “Very well, then. They can talk about us instead.”
“Exactly,” she said. “And we can talk up what a great athlete the duchess is. If they’re going to go back to London and tell everyone about the weekend, then let’s give them some decent gossip.”
He studied her a moment.
“What?”
He smiled. “You’re adorable when you’re protecting the duchess’s reputation.”
She blushed and glanced around. “Thank you. I’m just trying to do my job.” She ran a nervous hand over the skirt of her dress. “Arya invited us up to London.”
“Oh? When?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I’ve not been for some time. I hate the season.” He watched her a moment, saw the hesitation in her eyes and smiled. “Would you like me to accompany you?”
“Could you? Maybe … show me around a little?”
He took a deep breath. The air seemed crisper, clearer. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say the colors of their surroundings were sharper too. “I’d love to.”
She grinned. “Great!” She grabbed his arm. “Now let’s let Cozette have a crack at you.”
He laughed and let her pull him along to gasps from the onlookers. But he didn’t care. He was falling in love with the most fascinating and beautiful woman to ever walk the planet. And to his utter amazement, her being from the future didn’t bother him a bit.
“Your Gra-ace!” Tory called to the duchess. “I have another victim for you!”
Cozette glanced between them and smiled. “Sir Aldrich? You’ve never volunteered before.”
“I’ve not been challenged before.” He gave Tory a sidelong glance. “Besides, my honor’s at stake. She said I had to – I can’t very well back out.”
“No, you can’t.” Cozette glanced at her guests and back. Aldrich noticed that while they scoffed and groused, none of them disapproved enough to actually leave.
“Don’t worry,” Tory said. “After you shoot at Aldrich, let one of them take a turn. Teach them, let them see you for your skill, not … anything else.”
The duchess smiled. “Wise words.”
Tory smiled. “Being good at something shouldn’t make you an outcast. I’m sure every last woman here has tried their hand at archery at some point.”
“True, it’s something most women of the upper classes take part in when they’re young.” Aldrich looked at the young ladies in attendance. “You have an entire class at your disposal.”
Cozette smiled again. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Tory said. “Now can you shoot an apple off his head? I don’t want him to feel left out.”
She laughed and nodded at the bales of straw. “Stand over there.”
He turned to Tory. “Aren’t you going to ask if I have any last words?”
She playfully smacked his arm. “It’s not a firing squad. You’ll be fine.”
Emsworth, who stood nearby holding Cozette’s quiver, coughed and rolled his eyes.
“You’re not helping, Emsworth,” Aldrich said. The butler was no doubt enjoying this. Aldrich did an about face and marched to the target area where Tillie was waiting, apple in hand.
Chapter Eighteen
Call her a lunatic, but Tory was having the best time of her life. This was turning into something like a living history vacation instead of a job. That everyone took the playacting so seriously was probably why it was so fun. Maybe she’d been looking at this gig all wrong.
And there were some things you just couldn’t fake: Cozette’s incredible skill with a bow and arrow, the snooty women gathering gossip, the innocence of Tillie and Vinnie. Tory was beginning to really like those two. She hadn’t spent any time with the baron’s daughters yet – they were too busy following Bram around like a cooing flock of pigeons, all vying for his attention.
Then there was big, strong, handsome Aldrich, whom she felt she had to herself. None of the women were looking at him the way women do when they see something they want. Sure, there were admiring looks – what female wouldn’t notice him? But those looks were also coupled with a hint of “off limits,” or better yet, “his eyes are on someone else so why bother?” And that someone else was her. The thought made her giddy.
Still, that she still knew nothing about him other than “his role” bothered her. She wanted to get to know the real Aldrich, the one that paid the bills, drove to the grocery store and heated up TV dinners. The guy who had to do his laundry at the laundromat, preferred Nikes over Adidas and had a beer while watching a game at a local pub. Where was that guy? She knew he was around, she just needed to coax him out.
She knew there were actors that, once they were in a role, stayed in it until filming was done. He was one of those guys. But she knew she’d find out eventually - maybe when it was time for him to leave. According to this script (if one wanted to look at it that way), that would be in a week or so. Maybe even a “fortnight,” as Vinnie called it.
The woman’s words from earlier rang in her head: he’ll propose to you within a fortnight …
“Hold still, Aldrich,” Cozette said, pulling her from her thoughts. Tory watched her draw back the bowstring.
Several women gasped. “He’s not even closing his eyes!” one of the baron’s daughters said.
Sure enough, Aldrich stood still as a statue, eyes wide open. “He really is brave.”
“He’s a fool if you ask me!” the countess huffed.
“Really? I’d like to see you try it.”
“What?!”
Tory glanced at her and back. She didn’t want to miss this. “Scared?”
Before the countess could answer, Cozette took the shot. Tory saw him flinch when the arrow hit the apple, but otherwise didn’t move.
“Bravo!” Tillie called, clapping her hands. Duncan’s relatives clapped along with everyone but the two countesses and the marchioness. Even the marquess, viscount and the rest of the men were applauding this time. As anticipated, other young ladies (the pigeons had abandoned Bram) wanted a lesson. Soon several had bows in their hands and Cozette was showing them how to properly hold them.
“That went well,” Tory commented when Aldrich finally rejoined her, after the other men asked him questions. She noticed none volunteered to have fruit shot off their heads, though. She was surprised Newton or Amon didn’t – perhaps Cozette had already used them as targets.
“It went very well,” Aldrich commented. “Look how much the ladies are enjoying
themselves, not to mention the admiration of the men. They know skill when they see it. They’ve just never taken the time to look.”
“And you gave it to them,” she said.
“I tried.”
“You succeeded.”
He smiled. Was that a blush creeping into his cheeks? “Huzzah,” he whispered.
Tory laughed. “Don’t be so modest. That was pretty impressive.” She elbowed him. “Really, you were amazing.”
He looked at her. “So were you.”
Their eyes locked for a moment and her heart skipped. My gosh, he was handsome, and braver than she’d first thought. But then, had Cozette shot at him before? Was this nothing new to him? She shook her head. She’d have heard about it if he had.
“Something the matter?”
“No, just … thinking.”
“Shall I leave you to your thoughts?”
“No, of course not.” She was fidgeting like a teenager talking to her crush. And he was quickly becoming that and more. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall head over heels for the guy. She sure hoped the feeling was mutual, or she’d be looking at a big fat heartache. She didn’t want to have to deal with one of those – she’d already suffered every other kind of hurt.
They retreated to a marble bench, sat and talked about nothing in particular as Cozette continued the lesson. Even the Earl of Danbourne got in on the act and took a few shots. Good, one more to add to Team Cozette! Tillie was especially enthusiastic, even asking when she could shoot an apple off Emsworth’s head, much to the butler’s dismay.
The rest of the afternoon whizzed by and soon it was teatime. Tory was in Heaven. She might be in a bizarre working environment, but for some reason she felt a freedom she’d never experienced before. Maybe that’s why these people did what they did. It gave them the chance to be someone else for a time, in another time. No wonder Civil War re-enactments and other living history organizations were so popular. With a little attitude change, she couldn’t wait for the ball tomorrow night.
Which made her think. “Um, should we get a little practice in?”
“You want to try your hand it?” he said, nodding at the archery lessons.
“No, dancing.”
Aldrich smiled. “Ah, yes, the ball.” His eyes roamed her face. “It couldn’t hurt.”
“I didn’t think so. Besides, I need all the help I can get.”
“Very well, I shall inform Cozette that we’ve gone to the library to practice.” He studied the others. “We’ll ask Lady Tillie along, shall we?”
“Tillie? Why?”
His eyebrows rose. “As chaperone, of course. Or would you prefer her sister?”
Tory shrugged. If they were going to do things right and not give the countess any more ammo, they should. Heaven forbid she go back to London and claim the duchess couldn’t even roleplay right. “How about both?”
He looked into her eyes a moment. “Fine. I’ll fetch them.”
She watched him head for the others and sighed. She’d much rather be alone with him, but then they’d probably get into trouble. But would it be so bad to kiss the man again? Or would she lose more of her heart to him? Heck, who was she kidding? Chaperone or no chaperone, she was doing that already.
In the library, Tillie and Vinnie proved to be excellent dance instructors, and Tillie could play the piano. Being able to watch Aldrich dance with Vinnie also helped. At one point, Tory danced with Aldrich, then with Vinnie, so Vinnie could show her a few variations on several dances. Vinnie even taught Aldrich a thing or two.
“My, you know so much,” Tory said as she and Aldrich finished another dance. She looked at the clock. “Um, did we miss tea?”
The rest glanced at each other. “Is that so bad?” Tillie asked. “I think this is more enjoyable.”
“True,” Aldrich agreed. “And you needed the practice.” He gave Vinnie a slight bow. “You are an excellent instructor, Lady Chester.”
Vinnie blushed and nodded her thanks.
“Are we done?” Tillie asked around a yawn.
Aldrich sighed. “I believe so. I’m afraid we’ve worn you both out. Thank you for the lessons.”
“Yes, they were awesome,” Tory agreed.
Tillie and Vinnie exchanged a look.
“It means great,” she explained.
Tillie smiled. “Oh, yes, of course. Awesome.”
Now Tory yawned. “Wow, I guess I could do with a nap.”
Aldrich watched her a moment. “You’re … that tired?”
“Yeah, it’s been a fun day, but long.”
He nodded in resignation.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. Go rest. I’ll see you at dinner.”
She nodded as she swallowed another yawn. She really was tired.
Upstairs in her room she removed her dress, crawled into bed and snuggled in for a nap. Dinner wasn’t until eight, so she had plenty of time. She was excited about the ball at this point too. Her dress was gorgeous, her “date” more so, and she had to admit she enjoyed protecting Cozette (not that she needed much) from the likes of the Countess of Belford and her gossiping crony the Marchioness of Chester.
Before Tory closed her eyes, she came to the conclusion that she only needed to do two things before letting herself really enjoy her new job. One was to get to know Aldrich better, find out who he really was outside his role. He’d eventually tell her, she knew. How could he not? Especially if he was, as he said, falling for her. Maybe that was the real test. If he had true feelings for her, wouldn’t he tell her? If he didn’t after he finished his roleplaying job, then he was either a better actor than she thought, or she was dumber than she knew.
The other was to get a hold of Benny and make sure he hadn’t burned the house down. Other than those two things, her life, she realized, was pretty peachy.
“Miss Tory?”
Tory opened her eyes to Becky hovering over her. She blinked a few times to clear the sleep away. “What?”
“It’s time to dress for dinner.”
She sat up. “What? Already?”
“You’ve been asleep for hours.”
“Oh, man!” She tossed back the covers and left the bed. “Where are my clothes?”
Becky smiled. “Don’t worry, we have time.”
Tory stretched. She’d had the loveliest dream that she and Aldrich were married, lived on a small country estate and had several children. It was so real, she could still feel the summer sun against her face, hear the children laughing. Two boys and a girl … or was it two girls and a boy? Not that it mattered. The dream left her with a glorious feeling of contentment, as if all was right with the world.
And maybe it was. She had finally relaxed into her role as tutor for an eccentric duchess that liked to pretend she lived in the past. There were a lot worse things – Cozette could be the wife of some South American drug lord or a human trafficker or something.
Becky helped her dress, fixed her hair and soon she was heading down to the drawing room where the others were gathered before dinner. When they left for the dining room, the duke escorted the duchess in first, followed by the marquess and marchioness and so on. She and Aldrich were last to enter, as they were considered the bottom of the social totem pole.
When they passed Emsworth, he sighed. Maybe he was tired of all the roleplaying too and needed a break. No wonder everyone that worked in the house went to the carnival the other day – to get a dose of the real world. They probably all needed to charge their cell phones too. Who knew where the outlets were in this place?
Somewhere between the second and third course Tory decided to go to town the day after the ball and take care of some business. It didn’t seem as urgent as before, probably because she wasn’t as uptight. This job might be strange, but she was beginning to like it. She could add “actor” to her resume, and knew it had to count for some sort of life experience credit if she ever decided to go back to school.
In the meantime,
she’d enjoy the company of a handsome knight, two delightful sisters, a disgruntled butler, a charming if unconventional duke and duchess and the failed attempts of a hoity-toity countess to put herself above everyone else. The rest just added color.
Tory realized she just might have the coolest job ever.
The next day was more archery, fishing and socializing. The countess was quiet most of the day (miracles do happen) and Tory relaxed her vigil to quell snotty remarks from the woman. The marchioness was silent too. Maybe they were already bored and ready to call it a weekend. Or they were saving their energy for the ball.
When evening rolled around, Tory was nervous. This was the equivalent of going to her first school dance! She didn’t want to screw up while dancing with Aldrich, even knowing he’d overlook any mistakes – she didn’t want to make him look bad. She also didn’t want to mess up if she danced with any of the other men in attendance. Like the duke, for instance – she didn’t want to make him look bad either. “Be honest, Becky, how do I look?”
“Beautiful, Miss Tory. Absolutely beautiful.”
Tory examined her reflection. She did look good. The rose-and-gold gown made her feel like a princess. A tingle went up her spine as she smiled. “Not bad.”
“Come now, Miss Tory, you’re lovely. Everyone will think so.”
She thought of the countess. “I’m not sure about everyone.” She turned from the mirror. “I can’t wait to see the other gowns. I’m sure they’ll be stunning. I wonder where they had them made?”
“Their dressmakers’, of course,” Becky said.
Tory rolled her eyes. Becky wasn’t about to spill the beans. She wondered if the duke would give her the name of their costumer. She wouldn’t mind having a gown made as a keepsake for down the road. She wouldn’t have this job forever, after all.
“You’d best hurry downstairs,” Becky said, breaking into her thoughts. “I’m sure the other guests have already begun to gather in the drawing room.”
Tory checked her appearance in the mirror one more time. She hadn’t seen much of Aldrich today as the fishing went longer than expected. Still, she had a lot of fun and was looking forward to dinner and dancing, Victorian style. She smiled at the thought and left her room.