by Lynne, Loni
“Dr. Branford?”
April turned when she was addressed. “Dr. Freelane, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Please, call me Beth.” They shook hands. “Dr. Moreland has told me so much about you. I feel I know you already.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Not at all. He speaks highly of you.” She turned to James. “Are you two together?”
“Ah, yes…” April hadn’t really figured out how she was going to address James but they’d agreed to use an alias for him while dealing with outsiders. “This is my good friend, Jim Adams, from England.”
“Oh. I didn’t know you were bringing a friend with you.”
“I’m helping Dr. Branford out with some of her research. I have a bit of insight into James Addison.”
Beth Freelane’s historical interest perked up. “Really? How so? There isn’t a whole lot of information gathered on the man.”
“I’m familiar with his English background, not too much with his life in the colonies. I was hoping you and Dr. Branford might help me.”
Beth gasped and placed a hand to her chest. “Well, by all means this is a delightful situation. I might be able to piece more about our local legend together with some of your knowledge. Will you be staying long?”
“For now. I’m not sure how long though.”
Damn if that wasn’t the understatement of all time, April thought as she let James handle himself with Beth Freelane. So far they’d managed to avoid any questions or incidents to put up red flags.
“I would be delighted to chat with you about what you know of James Addison.” Beth glowed but April wasn’t sure if it was with feminine interest or purely historical.
James took Beth’s hand, and as he had done with her Aunt Vickie, placed a subtle brush of his lips against her slender fingers. The woman blushed down to her gray roots.
She bore no wedding ring and looked like a throw-back to a Math teacher April had in high school who’d been teaching since before the Abacus. The only thing missing from Beth Freelane were the black, horn-rimmed glasses of the 1950’s.
Beth showed them to the back room where empty filing drawers were lined against the wall like armored knights of old awaiting their turn in battle. In between the rows of filing cabinets were totes, plastic milk crates, and moving boxes filled with old ledgers, wrapped accordion file folders, and random stacks of papers bundled together with twine and old rubber bands.
“Welcome to my Hell.” Beth waved her hand over the miscellaneous collection. “We’ve never had the room to house all of the historical documents over the centuries or the manpower to record them for posterity. I’ve put in for funding to have one of the students from Towson University come work with me next summer. Until then, I’m surrounded with mountains of files, overseeing the new building project, and of course, working with the Friends of Kings Mill Historical Society for the festivities this next month.”
“My great-aunt is on the committee, Victoria Snyder,” April explained her connection.
“You’re Vickie’s niece? Really! So you must be staying at the Samuel house.” Beth’s voice trailed off as if distracted.
“Yes. It’s convenient and I get to visit with my aunt,” April said bringing the woman back to the present. She looked around at the chaos Beth spoke of. “Are these the documents you agreed to let me search through?”
Nodding, the woman closed her eyes and sighed. “Be my guest. There is no rhyme or reason to them. Some came to me from city hall, some from the courthouse, and others have been brought in from law offices and other historical buildings in the area—family heirlooms, birth certificates, death notices—God only knows what you’ll find.”
“I’ll see what I can do to help you out a bit while I’m searching for the documents I need.” April turned to James who was standing by, dumbfounded by the mess taking up the large back room. “You in on this with me, Ja…Jim?” She caught herself at the last minute.
He shrugged. “In for a hay-penny, in for a pound as my father used to say.”
***
They stopped long enough to take a stroll for an afternoon spot of tea and warm scones at the local café. James gritted his teeth as April paid for his cup of Earl Grey and sweet. It galled him to have her spend another hard earned coin on him. A man had his pride in any century! At least he hoped a man still thought that way. Seeing the population of men over the centuries, he wondered if they hadn’t lost a bit of their masculinity. Why from the looks of some lately, they didn’t even have the decency to pull up their breeches in a lady’s presence. It was appalling. Their sires should have taken a strap to them!
“One would think we would have made some headway in all those files today,” April said as they headed back to her aunt’s house later that evening.
“There definitely is quite a number to search through.” He turned to her. “Do you think we’ll find what you’re looking for?”
“I don’t know. It would be sad if we didn’t. Not just for our sake but history’s sake in general.”
They walked solemnly into the empty house and removed their outer layers of winter clothing, hanging them up on the clothes tree. April touched her hair. The bulbous mass she’d pinned up had become unraveled over the day.
He enjoyed her braid and wondered at her change in style. He’d noticed Dr. Freelane sporting a similar style, but much more severe. Most women walking the streets wore their hair unbound. It would have been considered scandalous by the women in his day. But truthfully, if April didn’t care to wear her braid or bun, he would like very much to see it down, loose around her shoulders.
“I suppose I’ll go upstairs and get ready for dinner. I also want to check in with Kenneth Miles and let him know about today’s progress.” She started up the stairs. “Let’s say we meet back down here in thirty minutes?”
James looked to the clock on the mantle. “Very well. I too shall freshen up.”
A half an hour later, James awaited April’s appearance. He began to pace. It was good to know some things never changed. Women still liked to keep a man waiting.
He’d changed into the dark slacks and a linen shirt she’d purchased for him. It seemed a bit formal for what he’d witnessed at the diner last night. Perhaps he was overdressed for an evening out? He was perspiring, anticipating the inevitable and feeling lower and lower. It would be humiliating to know she was paying for another meal for him. He paced the confines of the dining room, waiting. He fingered his collar away from his throat. Was the collar of his shirt too tight?
He didn’t feel comfortable going out and taking advantage of April. She’d done so much for him already. There had to be some way he could contribute and not feel like such a cad. James looked around the dining room. He would starve before she would pay for his meal again tonight. He didn’t give a damn if it was common for a woman to foot the bill once in awhile!
His eyes lit on the table near the front window in the parlor. It was small with a lace runner accompanied by a candlestick ensconced in a hurricane glass globe. Two side chairs sat at either end. It was a cozy setting for two people to enjoy tea or…dinner.
An idea started to form in his head. It was silly, frivolous, and she might not even approve. But damn it, he just might be able to make it work.
***
Silence met her on the other end of the phone. April waited for whatever Kenneth Miles would throw at her verbally after she’d told him she had nothing new to reveal. Biting her lip she held her breath for the string of profanities to follow. But nothing came. She slowly exhaled.
“Mr. Miles?” she asked gently for fear of retribution.
“I’m here, Dr. Branford— disappointed is all, and a bit tired.”
She could hear him sighing from thousands of miles away. It was nearly midnight in England so yes he would be tired.
“I understand, sir. I’m sorry I don’t have more for you at this moment. I don’t know what else to do right now. I�
�m afraid I’m at a stand-still.” Should she tell him about James Addison? How could she without him thinking her a loon?
“I need you to keep looking. I’m counting on you. I’ve been able to extend the hearings for a few weeks, but I intend to be in Kings Mill for the celebration. I want to be there to show my support since I’ve learned about James Addison and Kings Mill.”
April couldn’t agree more. “Perhaps together we might be able to honor James’s memory. I look forward to paying my respects to the man. The more I’ve gotten to know him, the more I feel he wasn’t given justice.”
“And you know this how? He was accused of crimes against the crown. Is there documentation proving his innocence?”
“No. If I’d found any, I would have informed you, Mr. Miles.” April tried to back track. She was treading on thin ice by opening her heart and her mouth at the same time. “It’s just a feeling I have. I can’t explain it.”
“I know of those feelings, Dr. Branford. One of the reasons why I’m so good with investing is having those feelings of being in the right place at the right time. My own intuition plays a big part in my business dealings. Right now, something is telling me the Kings Mill site is an investment of a lifetime. All I know is its imperative for me to be able to find those documents and have access to the land.”
April couldn’t help but smile. Kenneth Miles was as infatuated with this whole James Addison case as she was, but for different reasons. She almost thought they might be kindred spirits.
She needed to get to the bottom of James’s case before Mr. Miles showed up. Her future depended on finding out the truth. Besides, how could she introduce both men without being thoroughly questioned? How did you introduce a long deceased relative to their kin? She hadn’t been tutored in that kind of protocol. There was no way to explain it really.
Speaking of her ghost, James was waiting for her. Every moment without him could be precious time she may never have again. Looking at her mousy appearance in the vanity mirror she wasn’t going anywhere. She didn’t have time for a shower. Her hair had all but fallen down around her throughout the day. If they were going to go out she needed to look a bit better, even touching up her simple make-up would help take the dark shadows of the past few nights of restlessness from under her eyes.
Changing into her black dress slacks and wrinkle free white blouse she always packed for possible dinner functions while on business, made her feel better. She looked more professional and less like a college student. She took down her hair and brushed it out, twisting it back up and securing it with her clip again.
Wearing it down wasn’t an option, not with James. Very few women wore their hair down in his day, unless they were in bed. She didn’t need to project wanting to be considered a trollop or easy, though thinking about it she wouldn’t mind finding out about the legendary side to the man. He was a gentleman, handsome, charming and …not of this time frame.
Looking at herself in the mirror of the Chippendale vanity, she realized she hadn’t looked this put together for Jason—ever. She wanted a different look from the studious, college girl but didn’t want to look like the studious, stuffy professor either. She turned to view herself from every angle. This would work, she liked it. She finished herself off with light sprits of perfume and a swipe of clear gloss to her lips. Grabbing her small purse instead of her large hobo bag she would keep it simple yet elegant tonight and take him out for steak and seafood at one of the nearby colonial taverns.
James’s bedroom door had been left open. His room was dark. Looking at her watch she realized she was a bit later than she had intended to be. He must be waiting for her down stairs. Soft light met her as she descended the wide staircase.
“James?”
James stepped from the shadows and looked up at her from the base of the stairs. April nearly lost her footing in her sling-back, kitten heels. If ever a man could make her turn into a puddle of goo on the floor he would be the one to do so. His hair was slicked back and tied in a queue with the bit of leather strap he wore. The day’s worth of dark scruff lined his jaw and upper lip. God help her, she loved the natural male image it gave him.
“You look beautiful, Dr. Branford.”
How many women in his day had swooned when they heard the husky timbre of his voice? Men like James Addison might have been the reason fainting couches and smelling salts were needed.
April’s cheeks warmed at the compliment. “Thank you. So do you. What I mean to say is—you look very nice.” Flustered, like some shy adolescent, could she be any more of an idiot. But he only smiled his warm, sexy smile and held out his hand for her to take.
She placed her hand in his. It was amazing to think she couldn’t touch him only a few days ago. Now he was real. His hand enveloped hers and he raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles, making her feel feminine and delicate.
His eyes never left hers. Her heart hammered wildly beneath her rib cage as a river of fire flowed through her blood stream. Was she going to combust? Have a heart attack? Or perhaps both? Could a woman die from wanting a man so badly?
James placed her hand on the crook of his arm and escorted her to the table. “Oh wow! It’s wonderful,” April gasped.
There before her was a table set for two. Candlelight flickered behind the hurricane globe, casting prisms of light off of the wine goblets near a setting of her Aunt Vickie’s fine china. On a small serving table, James had arranged a virtual smorgasbord of sliced fruits, vegetables, cheeses, cold meats, and her aunt’s date bread with tiny dishes of her honey whipped butter.
He’d planned this intimate display in less time than it took her to dress and prepare herself. No one had ever made her feel more like a queen.
“Do you like it? You’re not offended because I did this instead of going out to dinner?” James asked.
“Not at all, James. This really is wonderful.”
Only a bit of light glowed from a small fire in the grate of the parlor fireplace. A few strategically placed candles around the room and one in the window added to the romantic ambiance.
“I wanted to properly show you my appreciation. I feel as if I am taking advantage of you and have no way of repaying your kindness. You’re a woman who should dine on the finest fare and have the rarest of gems bestowed upon her. And yet I cannot gift you with any of those items. It makes a man feel less than he’s worth.”
He laid a hand on her back as he guided her into her chair. His touch sent tiny electrical impulses coursing through her.
“I don’t look at it that way. A woman can take care of herself and help a friend out in need. Besides, you’re worth it. It’s not every day a historian can actually sit and chat with someone from the past. Can you imagine how many professors and scientists would love to meet you?” She tried to keep the situation light, business-like by making him see the situation from her perspective. She could deal with the professional side of their encounter.
“I do see your point, though. Just because times have changed, doesn’t mean your social graces have. I suppose it is difficult for you to accept.” April let him slide her chair up to the table for her. “I do appreciate the thought. It’s wonderful. I’ve never had a man make a romantic dinner for me. Thank you, James.”
He smiled slightly as he poured her a glass of wine from a bottle chilling in a wine bucket. His eyes danced merrily from his attention to the glass, back to her. “The men in this time must be daft not to have the good sense to show such a beautiful woman as you, her true worth. I must right this wrong, immediately. Let me lavish you with the affection you deserve.”
God, he was romantic. She didn’t know if he was teasing or if this was the James Addison the history books had commented about. Whatever he was, she was delighted to be with him and hoped to find out everything about the infamous ‘ladies man.’ But more importantly, she wished to be the only lady he desired in this time. She took in the whole scene. This was like something out of a colonial period se
tting. The only thing missing were the strolling minstrels. But then, having James to herself was even better.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more perfect setting for a meal. It’s simple, yet as elegant as any five star restaurants. It’s absolutely beautiful.”
“I’m delighted you are pleased.” James sat down, seeming to relax a bit more. “I would like to make a toast.” He raised his glass of wine, staring at her across the candlelit table. “To your kindness, beauty, and your unique gift, Dr. Branford. You’ve given me back my life after so many years. I can never repay you for such generosity.”
The soft clink of his glass against hers made her realize how real all of this was. As she watched him take a healthy sip, everything she worried about seemed to go out the window with his smoldering gaze. This is how a man should make a woman feel.
Damn! He was good. She had to keep reminding herself this was James Addison—he was used to seducing women. But she wanted to be counted among his conquests and right now. The way her body responded to every nuance he sent her way, she could care less about right or wrong.
Dinner was amazing. The man apologized for not knowing how to cook and yet he had sliced up such a wonderful, appetizing array of delectable nibbles. She was full by the time she finished her second wedge of her aunt’s date bread. James made himself comfortable by leaning casually in his chair and feeding on a small bunch of grapes.
“Tell me about your time here in Kings Mill. I want to know everything the books didn’t say.” April leaned on her elbow, gazing at him across the candle lit table. The two glasses of wine and cozy atmosphere had mellowed her, ever so slightly.
“Not much to tell, really. I arrived here the spring of 1763. I was but twenty and two, eager to take on the new world, make something of myself. I knew I would never possess anything of my own in England. My brother Andrew inherited the lands and title. In June I purchased the land the manor and mill sit on. The man I hired, Daniel Smith, arrived from the Chesapeake area mills shortly thereafter. Together, with a few other indentured servants, we constructed the two buildings, a barracks to house my workers and planted our first crop.”