9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  “Certainly, if it’s convenient to my work schedule.”

  Will stepped forward. “I’m sure we can spare Miss Morrow, and if you would like to conduct your meeting here, the gazebo is available, weather permitting, at a modest fee. Proceeds go towards ongoing restoration.”

  “That would be ideal, Mr. Wentworth. You have a real treasure in this young lady,” the woman gushed.

  “Yes. We’re quite fortunate.” He wished he could take Julia aside and speak to her about her skirt.

  She cast him an entrancing smile. “Now, if you will all follow me to the medicinal garden,” she said, and led her charges the short distance to the next circular bed.

  Will let Julia conduct the tour. She was fascinating to watch and clearly in her element.

  “What a little beauty,” a man said over his shoulder.

  Turning at the unwelcome intrusion, Will found the Aussie standing behind him. Lyle McChesney was even hairier than yesterday. His shorts bared brawny legs covered in red fur and grimy from laying brick, as was the rest of him. And there was a great deal to Lyle. He wasn’t much taller than Will, but broader, reminding him of a stalwart Highlander in a kilt. All Lyle needed was a dirk at his side to run someone through with. The man evoked warrior images and smelled like he’d been out on the battlefield.

  Lyle tipped the bottle of cola back and gulped, his blue eyes fastened on Julia. Will couldn’t fault Lyle’s skilled workmanship and he was entitled to a mid-morning break, but why did he have to take it in full view of her?

  Oh, great. There she went again, leaning over to pick sharply aromatic pennyroyal. Hadn’t she heard of stooping?

  Lyle gave an appreciative whistle. “Now that’s not something you see every day. You charging extra for the peep show, Wentworth?” he chuckled.

  Lyle might as well have used a megaphone. Will balled his fingers into a ready fist, battling the impulse to slam his knuckles into the Aussie’s toothy grin right in front of his guests. “Keep your observations about Miss Morrow to yourself,” he hissed instead.

  “Free country, mate,” Lyle said.

  “Not here it isn’t. I say what goes at Foxleigh.”

  Will strode over to Julia. The telltale blush in her cheeks and quiver at her lips indicated she’d heard. The visitors weren’t deaf either. An awkward quiet had fallen over the group. No one seemed to know where to look, although, they made pointed efforts not to stare at her.

  “Please excuse us everyone,” Will inserted into the pregnant pause, taking her arm. “Miss Morrow is required at the house now. Wander the grounds at your leisure and visit us again soon. Thank you.” He drew her away. “Just smile and keep walking,” he whispered in her ear.

  She curved her lips in a brave effort and followed at his side blinking hard. “Thanks.”

  Will noted Lyle observe their retreat with a smirk that he’d gladly wipe from the Aussie’s leering face. “As soon as I return, I’m firing him. Kicking him out on his big fat—” Will stopped before he swore in front of her.

  “Don’t. He’s a good worker and this was my fault. I’m sorry about the frock. I didn’t realize.”

  “That dress isn’t very nineteenth century. How did it get past your father?”

  “It’s new.”

  “Ah, dear Papa never saw you in it.”

  “No,” she said.

  “Is anything else you brought any better?”

  “I bought a fashionable new wardrobe for America.”

  “So that would be a no. Well, it’s time we got you properly outfitted for Foxleigh. We have a collection of vintage clothes and reproductions stored up in the attic. Leftover from former employees, festivals, and plays.”

  She brightened and her eyes shone through the sheen of tears. “Oh, Will. What fun. May I choose what I like?”

  “To a point. I think it best if I assist with the selections. Come on. I’ll take you up there.”

  Fun, it might be, but he sensed far more lay behind this venture.

  ****

  “MMM—Miss.”

  Julia started at the halting stutter and paused with Will before the steps leading up to the front landing of Foxleigh. They turned. Will nodded at the skinny young man hovering beside the massive boxwood, a pair of hedge trimmers in hand. Will smiled pleasantly enough, but the tension at his mouth betrayed his lack of enthusiasm at the interruption.

  “What is it, Paul?” he asked.

  The youth pointed the clippers at Julia. “SSS—She’s very pretty, MMM—Mr. Wentworth.”

  “Yes, she is. This is our new assistant, Miss Julia Morrow. Julia, this is Paul Henshaw. Paul’s a big help to Joe in the garden, aren’t you?” Will said in the patient tone one used with the dull-witted.

  Taking the hint, Julia bestowed a smile on Paul. She wouldn’t have noticed the nondescript figure if he hadn’t summoned her. Scarcely any taller than she, his thin face dripped with sweat, and he badly needed a haircut. Scraggly brown locks stuck to his forehead and his neck. The bilious green shirt and pants he wore like a uniform hung on him. The only feature that caught her attention was his tawny tiger-eyes, like finding an exotic orchid in a patch of dandelions.

  Her innate sympathy went out to him and she extended her hand. “I’m glad to meet you Paul. Please call me Julia.”

  He grasped her fingers in his grubby paw. “YYY—You’re like the lady in the picture.”

  She cocked her head at him. “What picture is that?”

  Will shrugged his lack of knowledge.

  “YYY—You’ll see.” A feline intensity entered Paul’s yellowish-brown eyes. “TTT—That Lyle man said something bad about yyy—you.”

  “It’s OK, Paul. I’m sure Mr. McChesney didn’t mean to hurt my feelings.”

  “HHH—He wants you for hhh—himself,” Paul insisted.

  Julia had no idea what to say.

  Giving the awkward youth a pat on his nonexistent shoulders, Will interjected, “Don’t worry, Paul. We’ll take good care of Miss Morrow, won’t we?”

  Paul nodded. His rapt gaze never left Julia and made her squirm.

  “Why don’t you take your break now, Paul? Go get one of those orange sodas you like from the rest station.” Will nudged Julia toward the steps.

  “Bye, Paul.” She mounted the three brick tiers beside Will. “Poor fellow. You’re kind to employ him. He seems terribly slow.”

  “He is, and he isn’t. Paul learns quickly, has a memory like an elephant.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “In a rundown trailer with his grandmother. Paul’s father took off after his conception, his mother soon after his birth. Grandma feeds him junk and lets him roam the countryside. He frightened the life out of some people appearing in their yards. After a stint in Juvie, Social services approached me this spring about offering him part time work. Joe gives him a ride and welcomes his help in the garden. Dave tolerates him.”

  “So you have three grounds men counting Paul, Lyle laying brick, Charlotte and her husband giving tours of the house. Any other employees I should be aware of?”

  “Another brick mason, Ron Brown, also does carpentry. His sisters, Ruth and Evelyn, sell tickets for the house and run the gift shop. Both can do tours in a pinch. That’s the staff, counting you. I cut back in the off season.”

  Julia squinted up at Will in the bright sunshine. How blindingly handsome he was. “Will you cut me?”

  “Do you want to stay on?”

  “More than anything, but my parents would have fits.”

  “We’ll worry about that when the time comes.”

  “You’re so sensible. I wish I were.” Julia was more like the wind and he the sturdy rock she blew around.

  “Life has a way of working out.” Will stepped through the impressive carved doorway into the house. He swept her up the passageway and into the great hall. Giving a wave to Charlotte and the next tour, he passed through the assembly and escorted Julia up the superb curved staircase.

  A
sea of eyes followed their progression. She envied Will’s elegance. There was a natural grace to his movements that seemed to elude her. At least she didn’t trip.

  He strode with her down the upstairs hall, past his bedroom, the bathroom, kitchen, living room and stopped at the end of the main passage. “Here we are.” The steps leading to the third level were steep and dimly lit.

  Gesturing her ahead of him, he said, “Watch yourself.”

  She mounted carefully with Will climbing just behind to catch her if she fell. She could almost envision herself ascending a castle turret, and stopped before an aged wooden door.

  “Allow me. It’s stubborn,” he said, and reached past her to close his fingers around the brown marble knob. He pushed the door open, hinges creaking slightly. “Need to oil those.”

  Eager to explore, she walked into the spacious room overhung with broad rafters. Tiny dust motes floated in the light streaming through the dormer windows. She cast her eyes over the array of trunks, some leather-bound, others wooden with inlaid tops, and all fastened with iron locks. Drop cloths shielded other intriguing shapes.

  What a thrill to be among the relics hidden away up here, laden with a musty scent of bygone days and the faint spiciness of the dried herbs hanging in bunches from the darkened beams overhead. “Will, it’s splendid! Who knows what we’ll discover. Have you the keys to these trunks?”

  He smiled. “Of course I know where the keys are. What kind of lord of the manor would I be without them?”

  “Actually, I believe the lady of the manor wore them at her waist on a chatelaine.”

  “Trust you to know that. And she wasn’t the only one with access to the keys.” He directed her searching eyes to one corner of the treasure trove. “Try that rack of costumes first.”

  Dodging trunks and boxes, Julia darted to the spot he indicated and snatched away the dusty shroud. A collection of period costumes emerged. A pale blue muslin dress with a high waist, square-necked bodice edged in lace, and capped sleeves caught her eye. “This frock is like something out of Jane Austen, the early Regency period.” She glanced up at him in sudden realization. “The time of Julia Maury.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her. “Have you studied nineteenth century fashion plates, as well?”

  “No. But I’ve seen Pride and Prejudice.”

  “Can’t say as I caught that flick.”

  She returned her spellbound attention to the velvet jacket hanging beside the gown. The waistline also met just beneath the bust and was styled with a smooth front, fairly high neck, and long sleeves. “I believe this is a spencer.”

  Next in line was a ladies cloak of green velvet, with bishop's sleeves, trimmed with black lace. “What a lovely pelisse.” She fingered the green mantle. “And so beautifully made. Are all of these clothes reproductions?”

  “Not all. A few are vintage.”

  “Marvelous.” Her eyes fell on a gorgeous white muslin ball gown with a high waist, capped sleeves, and embroidered white on white train. It resembled a bridal gown. More frocks followed like a stream of colorful leaves.

  “This is a walking dress.” She nodded at a dress of cambric muslin overhung with an embroidered mantle. Touching a simple white frock paired with a plum-colored spencer, she said, “And this is a day dress.”

  “Couldn’t you walk in either?”

  She smiled and shifted her admiration to a lavender gown of luxurious silken sarsenet with a long train, trimmed down the front and round the bottom in point lace, paired with a violet silk shawl. “Now this is full evening dress.”

  On the shelf below the rack were an assortment of velvet bonnets sporting exotic feathers and straw hats trimmed with ribbons, satin slippers and kid boots that laced up to the ankle, gloves of all hues and winter muffs. “I wish it were cold so I could wear this swansdown muff.”

  “Swansdown? How can you be certain it’s not the underbelly of a goose?”

  A giggle escaped her, but she was too distracted for a witty retort. “Oh Will, look!” She pointed at a stunning men’s double breasted dark blue tailcoat. The patterned waistcoat coordinated wonderfully, as did the ivory breeches. The white shirt had an airy cravat that knotted at the neck and the sleeves draped below the cuff of the coat. It was the sort of outfit Cole would have worn.

  She tugged at Will’s hand. “Let’s both try something on.”

  “We’re up here for you, Julia.”

  “Please. It’ll be such fun.”

  “I’ll wear the jacket for now. The full ensemble on Mid-summer’s Eve.”

  “Deal.” She scanned the attic for a place to change. “Wait here a tick,” she said, grabbing the pale blue gown and matching ballet-style slippers. Her heels clicked over the floorboards as she dodged behind another sheeted rack.

  Wriggling out of the sundress, she kicked off the sandals and stood barefoot in her pink bra and panties. The vintage gown was fairly sheer against her skin, more so in the sunlight. “I could do with a petticoat. If you take me out in this, I’ll be no better off than before.”

  “Underclothes are in one of these trunks. I’ll look.”

  She heard him rummaging around, the clank of keys and a lock being turned, then another.

  “Just the thing,” he said.

  A sleeveless white chemise sailed over the divide.

  “Brilliant!” Julia slid the old-fashioned slip over her head and pulled on the gown. The fit was perfect.

  She tied the blue sash under her bust and smoothed the softly draped lengths of cloth. The low décolletage flattered her curves and felt deliciously feminine. If she were properly dressed for the time period her hair would be done up on her head, not in a loose ponytail, and she’d have on a corset and white stockings. As it was, her bra would have to do and her legs would remain bare. She slid her feet into the slippers, stepping out from the screen with a flourish.

  Will had donned the elegant coat. Even paired with unlikely khakis, it looked divine on him. Julia held her breath as she crisscrossed the sunbeams to where he stood.

  His eyes never left her. “You are radiantly lovely, Miss Morrow.”

  “And you are exquisitely handsome, sir.”

  “Exquisite sounds rather gay, but thank you. I found something you might like.” With an air of mystery, he guided her to a small table in a shadowed corner.

  He blew the layer of dust from an ornate wooden box inlaid with ivory and lifted the lid Inside were brass workings like the mechanism of a clock. He wound a small gold key in the back until it would wind no more, and released it. The wheels and cogs turned and wonderful music flowed forth, the beautiful strains of a Viennese waltz, The Blue Danube.

  She clapped her hands. “A music box.”

  He bowed. “May I have this dance, sweet Julia?”

  She gazed up into his velvet brown eyes, and he gazed back. She managed a nod and he drew her into his arms. Around the attic he waltzed with her secure in his lead. Everything fell away except this moment while the haunting melody played on, taking her back to that faintly remembered place. She didn’t even stumble, not once. It was as if some inner memory guided her in the steps, even though ballroom dancing hadn’t been a part of her lessons.

  The music picked up and he swung her around and around. Her dress swirled as he circled. With each turn, he was Will—then Cole, Will—then Cole, both men in rapid succession, separate and yet the same. Her heart pounded from far more than the whirling dance.

  The music faded and Will slowly stopped revolving. They stood, his arms circled at her back and waist, eyes locked on each other.

  His brow furrowed. “Julia, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. “You may be the ghost.”

  He tightened his mouth in an impatient line. “Don’t try to make me into Cole again.”

  “Will, listen to me. I know it sounds crazy, but I think somehow you already are.”

  Dropping his hands, he turned away. “Only bec
ause you insist I am.”

  She grabbed his arm. “No. It’s what I saw while we danced. You must believe me.”

  “Believing doesn’t make it any easier,” he said flatly.

  “That’s because you think I’m misled.”

  He swiveled his head at her. Exasperation flared in his eyes. “There’s a simple reason for my laboring under that assumption. You are.”

  “Don’t be angry. I hate that I’ve spoiled such a lovely moment.”

  “You’ve a talent for that.” He turned and strode across the floor.

  She ran behind him and reached out, catching his plush shoulder. “Consider me balmy, if you must, but don’t walk away. Please Will.”

  He stayed as he was. “What do you want me to do, Julia?”

  “I don’t know.” She wasn’t strong enough to turn him and dashed in front instead, grasping his upper arms and twisting the fabric in her fingers. “Something. Anything.”

  He smiled faintly. “Never say those words to a man.”

  Cupping her face between his hands, he bent his head and closed his lips over hers in an all-consuming kiss...so swiftly she hardly knew what had happened. Even if he hadn’t cupped her cheeks, she wouldn’t have moved. The compelling press of his mouth bound her in place.

  If possible, Julia’s heart thudded even faster than it had before. The surging pulse drummed through her entire being, reverberating in places she didn’t even know she had. From what she remembered of her dream with Cole, her feelings had been poignant but tender. The sensations coursing through her now weren’t entirely that. An exhilarating passion swept her up in a shocking tide.

  “Who am I now?” Will whispered against her mouth.

  She loosened her grip on his jacket in speechless surprise, too breathless to tell him she didn’t care.

  ****

  Julia’s soft lips were irresistibly pliant beneath Will’s and a near electric surge crackled between them. He’d never ever felt anything so potent when he’d kissed any other woman. What on earth had he unleashed? Something he had no business doing. He was her employer, for God’s sake, and couldn’t swear his intentions were strictly honorable. How could they be? It wasn’t as though he could just whisk her away and marry her. No. Matters were complicated. But, oh, how sublime she felt.