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Big Bad Fake Groom: A Billionaire's Virgin Romance

Page 125

by Tia Siren


  “He has said that I will be able to retain my freedom to come and go as I please. I will continue to do that, but I will also act as Duchess when he requires it of me. I can’t imagine I would have any responsibilities, though. In the beginning, we will need to keep up the appearance of a happy couple. So I will not be able to stay here at the house. Perhaps I will come back and stay during holidays or when I want a vacation.”

  “Won’t you miss it?”

  “Of course, I will. But life goes on, doesn’t it? And we must ebb and flow with it.”

  He nodded. “This is true, my dear. This is true.”

  That weekend, Daniel picked her up for another dance, arriving early enough for them to leave the carriage away from the mansion in which the ball was being held and walk the remaining distance. There was no threat of rain. The weather was holding out to be a pleasant late spring, with sunshine and warmth late into the evening.

  That night, however, just as they arrived at the mansion and stepped up under the deck roof, it began to sprinkle. He gave her an apologetic look as they watched it come down. “I did not know it was supposed to rain this evening,” He said.

  “It’s quite all right. Do you think it will still be raining when we leave?”

  “If so, I will get a ride from someone else to take us to the carriage.”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  Once inside, they mixed with the crowd, Daniel heading in one direction and her in another. She met with a few ladies she enjoyed talking to and watched him from across the room. The ladies always questioned her sanity, but it amused her. She and Alex had figured out why Daniel’s reputation had been exceptionally poor. He was an independent thinker who had been looking for a woman with a mind of her own, as well. When he rejected the ladies he courted for whatever reason, they had retaliated by spreading rumors and lies about his treatment of them while dating.

  Since he felt free to do what he wanted, he was never discourteous to Cynthia, showed her respect and was kind to her on a daily basis.

  She saw him from across the room, chatting with some friends. He threw his head back and laughed heartily. She liked the sound of it as it traveled across the room. He had laughed like that with her a few times. It made her want to make him laugh more.

  He glanced over in her direction and their eyes locked. He smiled at her, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She smiled back.

  Alexander had asked her if she thought she could marry without being in love. She had already decided she didn’t have to worry about that part. She was nervous still, and a bit worried that he might not really be who he said he was. But her doubts were decreasing steadily. She wondered if he could feel about her the way she was beginning to feel about him.

  It surprised her when she saw Daniel excuse himself from his friends and make his way through the crowd to where she was standing.

  “How is your evening going, my lady?” He asked, leaning close to her.

  “I’m having a good time, thank you, Daniel. How about you?”

  He stood up straight and looked around him. “It’s another dance.”

  He chuckled, and she smiled up at him.

  “Would you care to go for a walk on the grounds with me?” He asked, holding out his arm, crooked at the elbow, for her to take.

  “I would love to; my lord but is it not raining out there?”

  “Let’s go and see.”

  She slipped her hand through his arm and walked next to him as they went through the large double doors that were left open to allow extra ventilation in the crowded room.

  The night sky had cleared, and the two of them followed the stone pathway around the garden, avoiding the small puddles that had gathered.

  “Have you given any more thought to our arrangement?” Daniel asked. She noticed his voice was low and smooth. It was filled with emotion. She wondered why.

  “In what way?” She looked up at him, enjoying the way he looked in the moonlight and in the glow of the lamps burning around them.

  “You are not wanting to back out of the deal, are you?”

  “Not at all, my lord. Are…are you?”

  Daniel shook his head quickly. “No. I am…quite happy with things the way they are going.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  He stopped and turned to face her. She scanned his handsome features, resisting the urge to reach up and touch his face. When he looked at her, she saw something different in his eyes than she had seen before. She remembered the way he had stared at her over the table when they first met. His eyes had seemed so cold, so distant. Now they were warm and inviting. She found herself drawing closer to him instinctively so that there were only a few inches between them.

  “Lady Cynthia, I…my…my feelings for you have changed in the last month. I see the way you treat your servants as friends, how you talk to the children, how you manage your life so well. I am impressed with you. I only wish you had not held yourself back in the shadows for so long.”

  “I was not expecting to…” She hesitated. “To find love again, my lord.”

  “Have you?” His voice dropped even lower, and he breathed the question out. “Have you found love again?”

  Her breath became rapid as she sensed how close he was to her. He lowered his head so that they were nose to nose and asked the question again.

  “Have you found love again, Lady Cynthia?”

  She felt his breath on her lips, and it sent shivers down her spine.

  “I have, my lord. I love you.”

  She saw him smile just before he moved close enough to touch his lips to hers. He pulled back after only a moment and whispered, “I have fallen in love with you, too, Cynthia.”

  When he kissed her again, she knew she had made the best deal of her life and would finally be truly happy again.

  *****

  THE END

  CLEAN REGENCY Romance - A Time for Love

  Eve Downing looked up at the portrait with loving eyes. She took a step back and sat on the red velvet cushioned bench, crossing her ankles and gazing. It was her favorite of all the paintings. It was titled “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte”. It was painted by Georges-Pierre Seurat in 1886. She wished she could go back to those days. The hustle and bustle of modern day life was annoying. She was in a loveless relationship, hated her job and had only a handful of friends she felt she could trust.

  She told herself she wasn’t feeling this way because she’d just finished reading Pride and Prejudice and every time she read Jane Austin, she knew she was living in the wrong time. She was so unhappy with her life. She would give anything to go to the late 1800’s and live like they did.

  Her phone buzzing brought her out of her thoughts. She was holding it between her hands which were resting in her lap. She turned the phone to face her and read the message on the front.

  “Call me.” From her boyfriend. She felt a rush of annoyance. He probably didn’t have anything good to say. He was such a negative person, always bringing people down and seeing the bad side to everything. He never saw the bright side, never opened his eyes to the beauty around him.

  She hesitated for a moment, looking up at the painting again. Her favorite. She sighed.

  She dialed the number and slowly put the phone to her ear, sighing again.

  “Hey,” he said when he answered.

  “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Did you pay extra for those carpet cleaners the other day?”

  “Did I what?” She was immediately confused.

  “There’s more money out of the account than what was supposed to be used.”

  Eve remembered the carpet cleaners. Two guys that came in, cleaned the carpets, gave her papers to sign and left. She wasn’t impressed with either one of them while they had been there but the carpets looked really clean afterward.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t spend anything extra. Haven’t been anywhere or done anything.”

  “Uh huh.”
r />   “What’s that supposed to mean?” She felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristling. She could hear the contempt in his voice through the phone.

  “I just said uh huh. We need to make sure we’re telling each other when we spend extra money somewhere.”

  “If I had, then I would have told you. But I didn’t so I had nothing to tell.”

  “Okay.”

  She could hear it so plainly. He didn’t believe her. He never believed anything she said. Why was she still going through this? They hadn’t been in love for months, long, miserable months. No physical intimacy at all. She could barely get a hug and a kiss from him.

  “Look, I’ll be home later, and we can talk about this okay?” She whispered hastily in the phone, not wanting anyone else in the museum to hear how upset she was. She was going to break up with him. She couldn’t take it anymore. Without another word, she hung up on him.

  She knew that would make him mad and expected it when her phone buzzed with a text message. She didn’t check it until she got outside in the sunlight. She regretted when she did check it. His text was profanity laced. It made her heart hurt to read it. They had been happy for several years. It had all changed in the last six months. They had grown apart.

  Eve slid into the driver’s seat of her car and adjusted herself so that she could sit comfortably. She hadn’t bought this car. It was her boyfriend’s choice, and he had surprised her with it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a good fit, and there were several things wrong with it. If he regretted the choice, he didn’t seem like it to her. But for now, she had no choice but to drive it.

  She sat in the seat for a moment, feeling depressed. Why couldn’t she be with a man who really loved her? Someone who had class and dignity and cared about her, like the men in the novels she loved so much. She needed to live in a time over a hundred years ago.

  Her familiar deep sigh escaped from her lips. She started the car and pulled out, deciding she needed to see her grandmother. Her grandmother had been telling her stories of her ancestors since Eve had discovered her interest in their family tree. She had been tracing it back generation by generation for months. She was related to some of the most powerful players back in the Victorian days. There was a story Grandmother Anne had told her several times about her aunt, Helen. Helen was a major member of society, well liked until a love affair that ended tragically. Helen had never been the same afterward, living as a spinster for the rest of her life, unhappy and alone, by her own choice.

  She didn’t want to end up like her aunt Helen. Grandmother Anne had made sure to relate Helen’s existence to Eve’s. She knew Eve wasn’t happy and Eve hadn’t even told her about it.

  She pulled into the long driveway to the enormous house and immediately felt better. There were huge trees lining both sides, and they made a canopy over the car. She breathed a sigh of relief this time. The house had been passed down for generations, and she had found so much history in the attic, it was unreal. Items and documents from the very time she longed to be in.

  She pulled around the circular drive and parked in front of the great pillars that led up to the house. It was such a beautiful house. She was delighted that her family had kept such good care of it. Someday, she felt it would be hers. She only had one older brother, and he was married with his own house and a small family.

  She went in the front door without knocking.

  “Grandma? Grandma?”

  There was no answer. She regretted calling out, in case her grandmother was taking an afternoon nap. But then, the house was large, and her bedroom was not nearby. It was upstairs and down the hallway. There was too much room for one elderly lady, but Grandma Anne was active and had many friends and family over. Eve’s grandfather had passed away two years previous, and Anne had not shown any interest in another man since then.

  She didn’t rule it out, though, and the thought made Eve smile. Grandma Anne wouldn’t have any trouble if she put herself back on the market. She was still slender and energetic, though she took the time she needed to do some tasks that would not take younger people long to do. She even had a long mane of strawberry blond hair that she kept back in a braid ninety percent of the time.

  Instead of calling out to her grandmother again, she turned and locked the door before taking the circular stairs to the second floor. She continued up to the third floor and walked with quiet steps to the door that would lead to the attic. It was small. A fat person would not fit through the door or the narrow stairwell leading up to the attic. She could barely make it in herself, now that she wasn’t a child. She had no idea how they had originally gotten all the furniture and other things up there until her grandmother told her the reduction in size was necessary for the renovations.

  She took the narrow stairs, running the tips of her fingers along the wall as she went up. She took the steps slowly. This was her personal museum. She had spent the last month going through the items and still had a lot more to look at. It excited her, one of the only things that she cared about anymore and made her smile.

  The door creaked a little when she opened it, and she thought she would have to get some WD-40 for that. She poked her head in first and flipped on the light switch. It flooded the room with a soft white, and she looked around at the odds and ends. Half of the room was organized from where she had begun going through it. The other half was still chaos, old toys, games, furniture and trunks of all shapes and sizes taking up the space in a haphazard fashion.

  She couldn’t wait to go through it and see what she would find. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, placing one hand on her chin and the other on her hip. She looked around. Where would she start today?

  Near the window to her left, the sunlight was spotlighting a brown trunk with an arched lid. That looked like a good place to begin. She hurried to it, kneeling in front of it when she got there. It had a flat metal latch on the front, and it locked with a key. She had encountered trunks like this before. Her grandmother had, at some point, taped every matching key she could find to the side of the trunk it belonged to. Eve hoped this one had a key. She moved her fingers gently along the metal framework around the trunk, peering at the front and sides closely. She reached over the trunk and felt the back side. Relief flooded her when her fingers made contact with the taped key. She dug at the tape with her fingers until it was released.

  Eve put the key into the lock and turned it, enjoying the small click she heard. She lifted the latch and then the lid, using her strength against the heavy wood.

  “Good grief, you’d think people wouldn’t have made these so heavy.” She murmured. Finally, the lid came up and slammed back when she lost her grip on it. It made a loud clunk but stayed open. She held out her hands as if to block it from falling again, though if it had, it probably would have broken her bones. When she was sure it wasn’t going to come slamming down on her, she looked down at the contents.

  She gasped. The trunk held several neatly folded dresses. The one on the very top was familiar to her. She stood up, pulling the top dress out with her. She held it up in the sunlight, blinking in quiet amazement. Turning, she moved to another area of the attic where she had placed several of the portraits and paintings she had found. Laying the dress gently to the side, she pulled a few forward, looking for one in particular. When she found it, she pulled it out from between two others and held it up in front of her.

  It was a portrait of her ancestor Helen. She had always borne a striking resemblance to Helen. Her grandmother had told her that when she was young but it was confirmed by this very painting. Helen was almost her twin.

  Chills ran up her arms. She would have bet that if she put the dress on that she had found, which was the very same one her ancestor was wearing in the painting, she would look just like her. Except for the hairstyle, of course. And the shoes.

  Eve shook her head. It couldn’t be an exact match. She didn’t have the shoes or the hairstyle that Helen had worn. But she could still put on
the dress.

  She looked at the gown, setting the painting down next to her, leaning it up against the ones it had been boxed in with. She wondered if she should put it on. Was it appropriate? Was it ethical?

  “You’re a silly girl, Eve,” she said out loud to herself. “Who is going to mind if you just try it on?”

  It looked like it would be a perfect fit.

  Giving in to herself, she slipped off the shirt and jeans she was wearing and pulled the dress over her head. She wasn’t able to fasten it in the back but even without that; she could tell it was a perfect fit.

  She looked down at it, breathing in quietly. It was a beautiful green dress with gold lacing through it, making an elegant design down each side. She ran her hands down the lacing.

  As she did, the gold lacing changed. She narrowed her eyes. She brushed her hands down the front of the dress. The green fabric brightened and the clean color spread slowly down the dress like water.

  Eve’s eyes opened wide, and she looked up at the room around her.

  Chapter Two

  It was nearly empty. The walls and floor looked almost new. The cobwebs and dust were gone. So was most of the furniture. Eve heard the sound of music playing below her.

  She began to breathe rapidly. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she fearfully moved across the room to the door that would lead to the lower floors. The dress was somehow fastened behind her, and she didn’t notice it until she opened the door and saw what was below her.

  The stairs leading to the second floor were wide and looked new. She took one step down and saw that she was now wearing the shoes that Helen was wearing in the painting. She made a small squeaking sound and covered her mouth with one hand. This wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible!

  She took another step down and then glanced back up to see that the door she had first gone through had been replaced by one that was much taller and wider.

 

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