by Magan Vernon
I stopped and leaned against one of the windows that faced onto the courtyard.
No need to look desperate.
I pulled my phone back out of my pocket and opened a messenger app.
Gavin: Are you still up and working? I had a question about one of these paintings near the oratory.
Not that much of a lie.
The painting near the Chapel of the Last Supper had some sort of value and was painted by a medieval artist. But not much else.
And it was easier to ask about that than what I really wanted to bring up.
My stomach rolled as I crossed and uncrossed my arms over my chest. Wondering how long I’d have to wait for a reply.
Natalie: I’m in one of the sitting rooms, I’ll be right there.
I shoved the device in my pocket and glanced around to make sure there wasn’t a rogue butler or maid or my brother, for that matter, lurking nearby. Then I turned and headed back down the hallway.
No need to wait around like a stalker. Especially if Natalie got lost in work like she usually did.
Yeah, that’s what the pounding in my head and chest was. Worried how long I’d have to wait, not with anticipation of seeing her.
Rounding the corner swiftly, I mentally went through what I would say when I finally got to the room. Would I just say I was in a hurry and needed the info? Then casually ask about her mother?
Blast, I sounded like a damn teenage girl, even if my thoughts were just in my head.
No sense in beating around the bush. I would just ask her flat-out when we were together again.
We were both adults. She would understand the need not to play games.
I nodded to myself, putting my hands into my pockets and, as I turned again, the door directly in front of me pushed open.
In a wave of red curls and arms full of papers, Natalie looked up just as her body collided with mine. Her face at my chest, her hands splayed across my stomach to catch her fall.
Her very delicate fingers sent a wave of heat straight to my cock.
She gulped as I steadied my arms at her waist so she didn’t topple over. But her stack of papers flurried around us like snowflakes.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know you were coming here.”
She may have said the words, but she didn’t move. Her hands were still firmly pressed against me as she breathed slowly onto my chest.
Her hair still smelled like her rosewater shampoo, and I had to hold my head up so I didn’t lean over and inhale her.
Why did she have to fit so perfectly against me?
I wanted to lean closer, just one breath in and I could kiss her. Forget about the fallen papers and whatever else was going around. Get lost in that flurry of red hair as it splayed across my pillow.
Balls, I had to get back to reality before my cock gave my thoughts away.
“I figured maybe we’d meet in the middle, and so we have.”
I cleared my throat as I met those big brown eyes. The ones that were locked intently on me.
She was a natural beauty without even having to try. If she were a baroness or another form of nobility, we would have already been engaged.
But she wasn’t.
Something that my brother made abundantly clear tonight.
I closed my eyes, then quickly opened them as I stepped back, crossing my arms over my chest so I could resist the urge to touch her again.
“Aside from the art, I wanted to see you. Well, see how you’re doing.”
I wasn’t about to make a fool of myself.
I crouched, picking up her fallen papers and ignoring the heavy beating that still erupted in my chest.
“I’m good, actually, really good,” she said as she bent down, picking up a few of the fallen sheets.
I looked up, even though I knew I shouldn’t. Even though that damn smile could have brought me to my knees if she wanted to.
“I just got off a video call with my mom.”
She sniffed, wiping at the corners of her eyes.
My face fell and I held my hands between us, gripping onto the papers as I tried to resist the urge to take her in my arms and pull her to me. To feel all her curves and edges. To forget everything else that was going on and get lost together.
“Is she…?” I couldn’t think of the right words to ask, my own emotions clogging my throat as I swallowed hard.
Natalie smiled, wiping at her cheeks. “These are happy tears. It was just scar tissue. She’s going to be fine.”
A grin spread across my face, so big that my cheeks hurt. “That’s great news.”
“Yeah, now I guess I can focus on work and look up that photo again. Which one did you say it was? The Last Supper?” She stood up quickly, her head down, papers to her chest, and her face was redder than her hair.
What did she have to be nervous about? I was the one acting like I’d gone mad.
“You don’t need to do that right now.” I stood up and raked my fingers through my hair, letting out a deep breath before I spoke. Time to get back to bloody reality. She was here for a reason. So was I. And that news brought everything back.
“I actually just asked about that because I wanted to see how you were doing.”
She slowly looked up at me, her eyes widening as her body stiffened. “Really?”
I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest, not inviting the contact my heart and my damn cock were begging for.
“Yes. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I should have come by or messaged you earlier. But I waited until Hugh went up to his room. Though that’s no excuse.”
I took a step closer, so the space between us was minimal. One more step and my lips would be on hers.
Our bodies pressed together.
I could say screw the rules and who I was supposed to be with. That maybe one kiss wouldn’t mean anything.
But with her, I wasn’t sure I could stop.
So, I kept my arms over my chest, tightly gripping my elbows.
“You’re a great girl, Natalie. You deserve the best. I know what I’ve said before about keeping our distance and keeping things professional, but if for any reason you need to take some time to talk to your mother or sister, or, hell, need anything for your family, just tell me, okay?” I tilted my head down.
One little movement and I could kiss her.
I should have kissed her.
But she was the one to take a step back, catching her teeth in her bottom lip. “Thank you, I really appreciate that. But, um, I really should check out that painting and get to bed. Going to get up early tomorrow and maybe I’ll finish going through one of these sitting rooms. If you want these rooms prepared before the end of the summer, that is.”
She added a little laugh at the end of her sentence, but there was no humor to it, and it had my chest sinking down to my gut.
She was right. This was just for the summer. She needed the money. I needed the place cleaned for the historical society.
Sucking in a breath, I let it out quickly and nodded, stepping to the side to let her pass. “Good night, Natalie.”
“Good night, Gavin. And thank you, again. For everything.”
Chapter Nine
Natalie
I wasn’t the type of girl who remembered her dreams or even nightmares. But the one that currently consumed me was so magical that I didn’t want to wake up.
I was in the large ballroom in the middle of the castle. It wasn’t piled with various furniture and the curtains weren’t drawn. The moonlight cast onto the marble floor and there, in front of a string quartet, stood Gavin. He wore a dark blue suit that fit his broad shoulders like a second skin. A smile on that chiseled face as he held his hand out to me.
I was dressed in a white lace gown with a sweetheart neckline and a whalebone corset. Like the o
ne I’d seen in the photos I showed to Gavin. The way he looked at me wasn’t with pity or curiosity; something else burned behind those gorgeous blue eyes.
“May I have this dance?” he whispered.
“Yes,” I replied breathlessly as he took me in his arms.
It was as if I could actually feel the heat of his body pressed against me. The world melted away around us. That it was really real.
But the buzzing of my alarm clock had to pull me out of my dream before I even got to the good part. Or at least a kiss.
The only one I’d ever get from the lord of the manor would be in my dreams. But it didn’t hurt anyone if it was just when I closed my eyes and wasn’t real.
I kept my eyes slammed shut as I reached for my phone, hoping I could just press the button and go back to my dream dance.
The resounding thump of my phone falling to the floor, still buzzing, signaled that it was time to get back to reality.
I sighed, opening my eyes to stare at the gilded mirror on the ceiling.
It was a Victorian style with stained glass and mirrored pieces, blending in with intricate golden paintings. A style similar to what I’d seen in the photos of Cardiff castle and Lord Bute’s bedroom, so I assumed they were both designed by William Burges.
Whoever had the great idea to hire Mr. Burges and use mirrors on the ceiling never had bed head.
Pulling the white down comforter to my chin, my face heated up as I imagined the other reasons one would have a mirror on their ceiling. Even if Victorian nobility weren’t exactly Hugh Hefner…
I had to stop thinking like this. Damn my dreaming about Gavin.
Pushing my feet to the floor, I kept my head down. I willed myself not to stare at the ceiling as I rushed over to the wardrobe, grabbing my clothes for the day before I headed into the bathroom.
Every day I’d put my clothes in a heap on the floor, planning to ask where I could do laundry. Then I’d find them neatly folded or hung in my closet by the next morning.
Either these maids were the quietest people in the world or wizards and fairies were manning the castle.
A lot of luxury for a girl from North Carolina who was used to digging in yard sales for treasures, not finding paintings worth thousands of dollars in a castle.
There was the one time I found a vintage University of North Carolina map that I sold for over one hundred dollars and I thought that was living large.
Now that seemed like such a long time ago.
Trying not to dwell on the past, I showered and dressed quickly before putting my wet hair in a high bun. There really wasn’t much point in showering when I was just going to get sweaty as I worked. But I did make sure to put on an extra swipe of deodorant and a few squirts of Febreze on my yoga pants.
Staring down at my old college T-shirt, I tugged at the fraying hem.
I’d brought a few nice outfits: two pairs of dress pants and a few blouses. One being the very white one that had been soaked on my first day. I hadn’t worn anything nice since and didn’t need to.
Yet I still found myself scouring my wardrobe before picking up one of my dress shirts.
The black, silky, button-sleeve shirt looked more appropriate for a funeral or auctioneering event than anything else.
No sex appeal.
Why the hell did that cross my mind?
Or the memory of Gavin’s body pressed against me in the hallway.
My eyes fluttered shut as my chest heated at the memory.
How I didn’t want to move, unless it was to run my fingers down the length of his stomach, hard as a rock even beneath his shirt.
His eyes had a different blaze in them that had me trying to control my breathing. I could have just leaned up slightly and my mouth would be against his.
But what would he have done?
Would he take me in his arms, push me up against the wall, and do everything I’d dreamed about right there?
Or would he be disgusted? Fire me right there on the spot and then no money for Mom’s bills?
My shoulders dropped again as a wave of shame washed over me and my cheeks burned.
No. This was nothing more than a little crush that couldn’t become anything else.
Sighing, I put back the blouse and stuck with the old shirt.
No need to impress anyone. I just had to get my job done. And today I was going to finish at least one room, even if I had to work all night.
Mom was fine.
There shouldn’t be any other surprise visitors.
It was time to keep my head down and do my job.
Leaving my bedroom, grabbing a few of the research books I’d placed on the desk, I headed to the library.
I was so lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t look up until I was almost there.
Yelping, I halted once I saw the door blocked by Hugh.
He was just as attractive as his older brother with a great jawline and close-cropped hair that didn’t hide those familiar blue eyes. But unlike the flame that coursed through me whenever Gavin was near, his brother had more of a chilled-to-the-bone effect.
“Hello, Natalie is it?” he asked in that rich accent.
“Yes. Hi. Sorry if you needed to get in here, just had to take a few of my things before heading to another room. You know, got to make sure I get the history and tag the object correctly.” I added a little laugh at the end of my statement, hoping that would ease some of the tension that had gathered in my neck. And, you know, hope he’d move so I could get into the room.
He narrowed his eyes, slightly tilting his head. “Right.”
“Okay, so, yeah I need to get going,” I said, quickly trying to dodge to the left of him. I stopped when his deep voice practically shook the floor around me.
“Do you need any help?”
I slowly turned toward him, my arms now aching as I pulled them close to my neck. “No, but thank you.”
“Oh come on, I can take some of these heavier books for you,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves before rolling them up to his elbows.
The guy had some major arm porn, that was for sure. And maybe my eyes did flit just a bit to the way his muscles flexed against the fabric of his shirt.
But there was still something missing there. Not that same electric heat his brother brought.
And there was no way in hell I was going to get involved with either of these men.
“It’s fine, really. You don’t need to do that. I’ve got it,” I said, quickly grabbing a few books off the desk. I smiled with a small nod, hoping that was a polite enough response.
While Gavin didn’t smile much, Hugh had a face-splitting grin, showing off pearly whites. “You think I’m coming on to you, don’t you?”
I winced, the once yucky feeling that was crawling through me now turned into mortification. “Um, no?”
He laughed, crossing his arms over his chest before taking a step closer. “As flattered as I am, no, I’m not coming on to you. Don’t you think that might be a little inappropriate?”
If my face wasn’t already on fire, now I was pretty sure it was going to melt the rest of my body.
He did see Gavin and me together in the library. Even if it was innocent, it probably looked like anything but.
“I, um, wow. That’s a hard one to respond to.”
After pulling one of his hands out of his pockets, he pointed two fingers at me. “You’re funny. No wonder my brother is fond of you.”
Was this guy purposely trying to see how far he could embarrass me? My shoulders pushed into my neck so far that I wished I could just disappear into them.
He cleared his throat, putting his hand down before he leaned back on the doorframe.
“By help, I was going to call up some members of the historical society to see if they could come up the hill. With Iris Day com
ing up, I’m sure Mother is going to be pushing extra hard to get everything done. Who knows, she may even try to claim the entire west wing for herself.”
“Your mother?” I asked, the words coming like sharp ridges on my tongue.
He smirked, the little move of his lips chilling my once heated body to the bone. “You haven’t met Lady Helena yet, have you?”
I shook my head. “No, sir. It was Lord Gavin who hired me. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the rest of the family, well, besides you, of course.”
“You’re so damn proper. Loosen up. I’m not going to reprimand you or make you bow at my feet. Just trying to have a conversation.”
I shuffled my feet, wishing I could somehow just disappear behind the rows of books and away from this awkward conversation.
“Sorry. Just stating a fact and you know, being respectful to the family.”
“Well, I hope Mother gives you as much respect when she’s here in two weeks.”
“She’s coming here?” I blinked hard as the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
It was one thing for Hugh to be asking me these questions, but what would I say to Gavin’s mom?
I was going to have to stay away from the rest of the family. What if they walked in on something with Gavin and it wasn’t totally innocent?
Like in my dream…
Or maybe Gavin would stay away, like he said he was going to.
Something fell into the pit of my stomach as I thought about not seeing him every day.
This was just a crush. There was nothing more to it.
I had to keep my head on straight.
If Hugh was sensing something, surely his mother would, too.
Though what they’d sense and what actually was happening was still a mystery, even to me.
“The Iris Festival is the big Founder’s Day festival here, when the flowers are in full bloom. There will be a lot of visitors and family coming in. I’m surprised that Gavin didn’t tell you sooner.”
He probably had that written in my paperwork, but while getting lost in the history of everything, I forgot about it.
My shoulders tensed as guilt riddled my stomach.
“The Scottish family, too?” I squeaked, Hugh’s eyes widening in response.