by Emily Bow
“Have the estate make money. Attach a modern industry to the building and land. Or turn the castle into a university and a community center.”
“We have plenty of universities here in England. If you can’t be the best, why bother?”
I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees, the wineglass loose between my palms wanting to know him and seizing on the chance. “Why can’t your newly founded castle university be the best?”
“We have Cambridge and Oxford, for starters.” His voice was dry and sounded like the British equivalent of, ‘Duh.’
“Just because they’re the first doesn’t mean they’re the best. Think about your first kiss. That couldn’t have been the best.”
He chuckled.
I leaned back and took another sip of wine, enjoying the cool glass pressed to my lips. “Exactly. You know I’m right. Your castle new university can be amazing. Unique. Like tasting wine in the dark during an electricity-free night.”
“After prevailing over a bridge collapse.”
“Exactly.” I wished I didn’t like talking to him so much. On the other hand I was so glad he was in here with me. “So, we know what I love. The past. What about you? What are you studying?”
“The future. Business.”
“Ah.” I didn’t know what to add to that. The school was too general. “What kind of business?”
“New ones. Start-ups.” He was only a shadow in the mild light. “You handled yourself well out there.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I know a lot of people who wouldn’t have. How did you keep so calm?”
“Without my being British?”
“Tell me.”
I tried to think of one single incident I could share with him. But my actions resulted from a whole childhood of training. “My parents taught us how to act in a crisis. Mom’s all about triage. No matter what the task or how we felt. Take the critical thing first. Dad’s about knowing plan A will fail so have a backup plan. And then have a backup for that plan.”
“Impressive.”
“Not really. They do it and love the rush. I feel shaky and weirded out and eager never to put myself in such a situation again.” My voice held the truth of my words.
He held out his hand.
I put mine in his warm larger one, and he tugged me to his lap. Our embrace was like a chaste hug. A comforting cuddle, not romantic. I lay my head against his chest and sat there, feeling the up and down of his breathing, smelling the shower freshness of his skin. This is where I’d wanted to be.
Peace washed over me. Somehow his touch, his strength, was what I needed to bring my heartbeat back to a normal rhythm. Funny, because normally he sped my heart rate up. Maybe a guy who had the power to speed up a heartbeat, also had the ability to calm it.
But then, the longer I sat there, my thighs against his, the more I breathed him in, and the more my peace twirled away, leaving me restless. I shifted on his lap. Thorn. Longing replaced my calm. His arm tightened on my waist. It was as if he felt the same shift, and we both knew it without words.
“Imogen?” Thorn’s voice was deep and held a question.
I didn’t know what he was asking, and I did.
He cupped the side of my neck with his warm hand.
My head spun, my mouth went dry, and my lips parted. I tilted my head back so my mouth raised toward his. I wanted his lips on mine pressing and relieving, licking and biting. I wanted the distraction. I wanted out of my head. I wanted the chemistry from the pub. I wanted a wild kiss, not a comforting peck. From his eyes tracking me he felt the same.
The doorknob clicked open.
I jolted against Thorn’s arm and looked toward the entry with resentment.
Sebastian. As in owner of the house, as in brother of Regina, the woman Thorn wanted to marry. It was as if wine splashed in my face.
Thorn dropped his hand from my neck.
Sebastian leaned in and the big beaming flashlight he carried illuminated the floor. “Fork over the wine. Steaks by candlelight aren’t the same without it.”
Thorn said nothing.
I popped up. “Don’t let the door close. The electric lock freezes.”
“Sure, it does.” Sebastian snickered and turned away, but he didn’t let the door shut. “Come on then.”
***
When the power returned in the morning, the lights flicked on inside my lemon-yellow guest room. I must have hit the switch automatically last night, even though they hadn’t worked then.
The hour felt too early to get up, but I couldn’t lay there with all the lights shining on me and the control switch across the room.
Being stuck there made me antsy and annoyed, and I looked out the window. At least the storm was over. The sun had come out and the sky was less gray with only a mild drizzle. From this upper floor vantage point, I could make out the curve in the road that led to the bridge. There was something about knowing I couldn’t get over the bridge because of the flooding that made me want to get over the bridge with my whole heart. Plus, being an uninvited houseguest wasn’t helping my mood.
I dressed and went downstairs with a fake smile. I ran into Regina in the green and peach marble entryway. Of course.
I dug deep for a better mood. “May I help with breakfast? I don’t know how to work European breakfast appliances any better than I did last night, but I bet we can figure the coffee pot out.”
Regina wore cream trousers and a cream pullover sweater. Her scarf and perfume were peach. She walked over to a vase filled with peach flowers with green leafy stems and moved one from the front to the back. “We’re British.”
Out of all that I’d said, she homed in on the fact that I’d called her appliances European. “Sorry, yes, British appliances are different. Maybe there’s cereal. I’ll make it for us.”
“I’d rather have porridge.” Regina pursed her lips and moved the exact same peach rose to the front of the vase. She nodded and backed up a step, admiring her flower-arranging efforts. “Everyone knows Americans don’t make the best servants.”
This again? I clasped my hands in front of me and squeezed my fingers together. “You do know I’m not a servant, don’t you? I don’t work for the castle. I’m a volunteer.”
Regina yawned. “It’s a very similar thing.”
“I’m pretty sure when you work for someone you get a paycheck.” Why was I arguing with her? I wanted some orange juice. Why was I waiting for permission? That seldom got anyone anywhere. Then again, Hopewell Manor wasn’t my house. My stomach rumbled.
“You serve the castle at His Grace’s pleasure.”
Okay, root cause. Dig up the poison. I was going there. Back to the pub. Back to the day Regina and I met.
I opened my palms. “Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot and you weren’t wrong about that.” I had indeed been making out with her duke. “But I didn’t know you existed at the time.” He certainly hadn’t mentioned her. “And I hope you’ve let that go.” The that being me with my lips on the guy she wanted. Me knowing how Thorn kissed and tasted. Me knowing how his hard muscles felt under my fingertips.
I rolled my hands open and outward in one of those releasing things out to the universe gestures.
Regina stared at me like I was trying to sell her crystal healing potions. She rolled her hands inward in front of her in a containing motion. “You wouldn’t understand. Nor would I expect you to. You’re not one of us. You’re not British. You’re not of the same class as us. You don’t understand how things are.”
My mood darkened because I’d tried to make peace, and I’d made things worse. Not for her maybe but for me. I lost all sympathy toward her. “You know I’m not really in the mood for breakfast.”
As a student of history, I knew there were several tactics to take with a girl like Regina. But I hated to have to take any of them. I hated to be manipulative. Sometimes there was no other choice. My stomach grumbled in hunger, but I ignored the ache. I needed to shak
e off this mood more than I needed food. I looked through the glass pane above the door. Sunlight streamed in, more so than it had upstairs. The weather was definitely clearing up. “I believe I’ll go for a run.” My tennis shoes were still in the entry from last night. They’d be damp and unpleasant, but they wouldn’t be any worse for a quick run now.
“In this?”
I pulled them on. “I don’t care.” Dad made us run regularly. He’d say things like, If you were stranded on the south side of the moon and had to run back to the space shuttle before launch, could you make it? He’d made it fun. Sort of. And then cardio became its own addiction.
Lily came downstairs and stopped on the last step. “I reached Mom,” Lily said, speaking to both me and Regina. “She’s sending Billy in a Land Rover. If the bridge isn’t too damaged, he’ll come across or we can wade over to him now that it stopped raining.”
“Billy?” Regina’s voice was sharp and a little loud, like a freshman girl on the pep squad who’d caught sight of the quarterback.
That was enlightening. Why was she being so terrible to me over Thorn if she was hankering after the pub owner’s son who cleaned out the castle stables? Maybe her anger was some manifestation of her own inner conflict. I should sympathize with her, but as psychology wasn’t my calling. I was going to think of her as a big B and avoid her as soon as I could cross that bridge.
Lily, who was leaning against the stair rail, jolted at Regina’s tone and came all the way down into the entry. “Yes, Billy Wilson. He’s working on the outbuildings.” Lily moved to a side table and touched the corner of the vase where Regina had been arranging flowers moments before. Then she leaned in and looked closer at the blue and white decorative plate mounted behind the blooms.
She was probably surprised the porcelain wasn’t peach and green.
“Careful. That’s my favorite piece of pottery,” Regina said. “Ming, you know.”
I laughed, and my tension eased. “We call some of our stuff Ming, too.” My youngest sister Elara had the best dry delivery. She’d pass the paper plates out. “Careful, it’s early Ming, you know.”
“I’m serious,” Regina said.
Chinese Ming dynasty making a European plate? Nope. Regina’s family had mounted an imitation. I moved close to look at the piece and ran my fingertips over the blue swirled pattern against the white glaze. Rough. So, the surface was painted. But the plate shape. No way was this Ming. I smiled a closed-lip smile and moved toward the front door. I needed that run.
“What?” Regina said.
“Nothing. It’s a lovely blue color.”
“Your expression.” Regina’s hazel eyes held accusation and looked remarkably like they had in the pub when I first saw her. “You think the plate’s a fake. That its provenance is not real. Don’t you?”
I knew their Ming was a fake. Lily probably did too. I said nothing.
Lily moved back to the stairs and up several steps. She swiped her fingertips over her throat at me, silently telling me to end this.
I smiled a smile more fake than Regina’s Ming plate. “Sorry.” The Brits liked that word. “I’m sure I’m wrong.” I couldn’t make my tone sound truthful.
Regina crossed her arms over her chest. “You are.”
I wasn’t trying to make the morning more difficult. Regina was the mean girl in the sorority whose focus needed redirection before she attacked one of the vulnerable. In this scenario, Lily and I were the vulnerable.
“I do like your bone china. England makes the most valuable bone china, you know. Though I guess its creepy if you really think about drinking out of a cup made with human bone ash. I wonder if they can get DNA from it.” My voice dwindled. I was pricing their objects, insulting their processes, and speculating on something only my medically minded middle sister would find interesting.
I needed to work on my social skills. I wasn’t distracting my sisters Chelsea and Elara. I was trying to distract Regina. My stomach bounced around. I’d had dinner. I shouldn’t be so hungry now. Did annoyance make me hungry?
“Do tell me what it’s worth. In pounds rather than dollars,” Regina said, sarcasm in her voice.
Okay, at least she picked on that element to attack. “Sorry, my brain is still in the thick of cataloguing, pricing, analyzing. Like we do at the castle.” I pressed my fingertips into my forehead and spread them out. “You didn’t ask us to do that here. I mean, I guess you could ask…Lily?” Yep, I threw Lily to the wolf. “Lily, didn’t you want to offer to assess their antiques…”
Lily wrinkled her nose at me, and then her expression eased. She stuck her right arm straight out and pointed to the glass pane above the door. “I see a truck on the other side of the bridge. That’s our ride.” She sounded really excited. She caught my gaze and made big eyes. “Let’s get our purses.”
I toed off my shoes and followed her upstairs in as near a run as my hot pink socks would allow. I went to the restroom and straightened the guest area. The place looked as good as I could leave it. Unless Regina wanted me to strip the bed. I didn’t want to ask her or choose wrong, so I smoothed out a wrinkle and evened out the pillows.
The increasing sunshine lighting the rooms seemed odd after yesterday, but I was thankful for the happy glow. I moved closer to the glass. Had enough water receded that we could safely cross the bridge? Yep. Billy was mid-way up the drive, wearing tall rubber boots. Fantastic sign. He’d gotten over the bridge. My mood lightened.
We could get across.
Regina strode up to him.
Billy grabbed Regina and in the next instant, they were kissing like drunk coeds in a bar’s alleyway.
Chapter 18
Holy cow. This place was whack. Did Regina like Billy or was she using him to get to Thorn? Why should I care? I didn’t care. I grabbed my purse and met Lily back down in Hopewell Manor’s entryway.
Lily pointed toward the stairs. “Should we say goodbye to the guys? Do they want to leave also?”
Yikes. I shook my head. And have them see the early morning Billy and Regina make-out session? No. “Someone can come back for them. Let’s go, okay? I’ll tell you why later.”
Lily shrugged. “I’m ready.” She got a glint in her eye. “I want to use the laptop today. Tomorrow too. Until I can overnight one of my own.”
“No problem.”
We went outside and Billy and Regina were standing there talking as if they hadn’t just been Burberry to Burberry.
Billy took us back to the castle, chatting about the weather the whole time while mentioning nothing about his shenanigans with Regina.
We thanked him and went upstairs. Lily swung into the workroom, snagged the laptop and left.
I sank onto a chair, mulled over what had happened, realized I was too keyed up to rest, and went down to get breakfast.
Sarah met me at the door. She held up her watch and pointed. I was too late for the morning meal.
I went outside in the breezy humid air and walked down the puddle-filled path toward the stables. I found Billy at the front using a water hose to remove the mud from the white Land Rover.
I stood back so I wouldn’t get sprayed. “Should you go back for Thorn?” I wanted him here. “And, should we offer for Regina and Sebastian to stay here?”
Billy shook his head and pulled the hose taut, lengthening it so he could reach the other side of the vehicle. “Aye, I did. They’re staying there.”
We’d gotten back and Thorn hadn’t followed us. I nodded as if his delay didn’t bother me, but Thorn’s decision felt like a choice, as if he’d picked Regina over me. And my insides sank, in a way they had no right to sink. Why didn’t he see the possibility of us?
While I stayed here and worked, cataloguing his possessions, boxes and boxes of them, he was hanging out with the neighbors playing. I’d made a massive dent in the workroom stock. I deserved a break.
I’d go sightseeing and not be here when Thorn came back. See how he liked the feeling.
***
I adjusted the phone on my ear and took a seat on the marble bench outside Canterbury Cathedral. They’d planted a white rose bush hedge down the path, and the breeze stirred up the fragrance.
“What are you up to?” my sister Chelsea asked on the other end of the phone line.
Hearing her Texas accent made me long for home. “Staring at a Norman arch at Canterbury Cathedral.” I was taking the whole week off and sightseeing.
“You suck.”
I grinned and smiled a smile she couldn’t see. “I know. But it’s not all gothic arches and roses. Listen to this, I got an email from the UK Space Agency.” A totally new stressor.
“Their NASA?” Chelsea snickered. “Are they trying to recruit you?”
As if. I moved my legs into a crisscross position. Then I hunched over them to dig my elbows into my knees and keep talking. “They want me to give a speech about Dad.”
Chelsea chuckled. “LOL. I know you’re all over that.”
My family knew them well. “I deleted the email as if I hadn’t received it. Can’t you fly up and talk to them?”
“I have American stuff to do. I’m going to a neurology conference with Mom this weekend to sit in on the sessions.” Chelsea’s voice was excited.
I yawned. My sister and I were less than a year apart and so different.
“It’s going to be amazing.”
“Yeah. Sounds great. What should I do if they contact me again?”
“Respond. Tell them no, Im.”
“Fine, fine.” I typed up an email while Chelsea went on and told me about her senior year. I half listened while I wrote, Thanks. I’m honored, but I’d be terrible at that. Best of luck with the event. A weight lifted from me as I hit “send.” Obligation gone, I gave her my full attention.
Ping.
I growled. “They’ve responded already.”
“Spill it.”
I read it to her. “‘Ms. Arundel. You simply must come. You’ll be brilliant. We’ll be so honored to have you. Think of the others you’ll inspire. Think of how much that will help the space agencies on both sides of the pond. Sincerely, Jim Perkins.’” Ugh, they hadn’t taken no for an answer. “Jim. He sounds so normal. That makes refusing worse somehow.”