Her presence and her words startled them both. Millie let out a little cry then shook her hand as if she’d been burned. Gerard jumped and dropped the skillet he’d been holding. It crashed to the floor.
From the direction of the dining room, came Liam’s voice, “Everything all right, Gerard?”
“Please don’t give me away. I’m sorry I startled you,” Clare whispered loudly.
Gerard picked up the nearby teapot and headed out of the room. “I’m sorry Master Liam, I didn’t mean to make such a ruckus. A skillet slipped from my hand. More tea?”
“No harm done. Thank you,” came Liam’s reply.
“Millie, can you help me?” Clare whispered. “I can’t get all these tiny little buttons buttoned.” She turned, presenting the back of the plaid gown to Millie.
“I’m a cook, not a lady’s maid.”
“I don’t need a maid. I just need my dress buttoned. And if you could hurry please, I’d appreciate it. I have to pee really bad.”
Her words seemed to stop Millie in her tracks. “I ain’t never heard a lady talk like you, either.”
“Would you rather I talk like that Evelyn woman who was here last night?”
“Oh, no, Miss Clare. I think that woman is…” She stopped as if she momentarily forgot she was speaking to one of her master’s friends.
“It’s all right, you can say it. I think she’s a phony, too.” Millie finally moved to button the tiny buttons Clare couldn’t reach. “Rest assured, I will always be truthful to you and everyone else.”
Millie finished the buttons and Clare turned back to face her. “That sounds nice, Miss Clare. But how did you know Miss Evelyn was here last night? She was gone before you arrived.”
“I met her some time ago, and Liam told me about his dinner party.”
“Well, Master Liam deserves an honest woman because he’s so giving and honest.”
“Thank you, very much,” Clare wasn’t sure if she was thanking the woman for helping her dress or for her compliment.
Clare ran her hands down the length of the gown. It was heavy, but comforting. “How does this look.”
“Very nice on you. Mistress Constance would approve.”
“Mistress Constance?”
“Master Liam’s mother. She and Master John are at their home in Atlanta.”
“I see, thank you for clarifying.” Then Clare pointed to a door off the kitchen. “The bath?” It probably wasn’t called a ‘bathroom’.
“The water closet,” Millie nodded.
“Thank you.”
Clare stared at the privy. It was the room she’d previously thought could be a bathroom, but she hadn’t looked into it. She wondered now if it would have had modern fixtures or if it looked just as it did now. The wood bench seat didn’t look all that bad.
She breathed. Last night and again when she’d awakened this morning, she’d been undeniably confused, uncertain how she came to be here with him, uncertain what she should do next. And then he’d kissed her.
Her lips still tingled from his kiss.
Her body begged for more.
Her heart skipped at the mere thought of another touch of his hot mouth against hers.
And like pieces of a puzzle, some, but not all, things fell into place. She felt at home here. She didn’t even feel out of place waking in his bed and having his arms around her. His hands on her hadn’t startled her, hadn’t repulsed her.
His touch just left her wanting.
Even wearing his mother’s gown felt right somehow, as if the gown belonged to the house and because she wore it, she belonged, too. What felt out of place was the running shoes she wore, but the shoes she’d found with the gowns looked too uncomfortable.
And now, in the water closet, she realized she should have used it before she put on the gown. Now she was going to have hike up yards of material before she could do what she needed to do.
She stared at the facility, remembering Liam’s words. “A state of the art commode for 1847? I feel better already. And not one but two, side by side. Must be a man thing.” It made Clare think of how the urinals were arranged in men’s restrooms in the twenty-first century. Then she noticed the Farmers Almanac held to the wall with a nail and she let out a sigh. “Complete with reading material and toilet paper. It might be strong, but it certainly isn’t going to be soft…”
She didn’t have the luxury of time to search out something else before she bunched up the skirt and went about her business.
After rinsing her hands using the bowl and pitcher at the far end of the room, she took a moment to actually look around. Although it was cooler than the rest of the house, given it was on the north wall of the house and had no heater, stove or fireplace, it wasn’t nearly as bad as stepping outside to an outhouse would be. It was a comfortable size and there was another door. Looking into the next room, she stared in astonishment.
“A bathing room.”
There was a tub that resembled a large heeled shoe, and there were containers hanging from the ceiling. There was a small pump with a basin, as well as a large stove and several empty pots, and a larger pump. Water would be heated in the pots on the stove then sent via the pump into the containers raised near the ceiling. It would be a…
“A hot shower,” she muttered. “Yes, definitely state of the art.”
The sound of chimes tinkled through the room, then Liam’s voice, “That might be Penelope. Don’t worry about it, Gerard, I’ll see who it is.”
A moment later, she heard Ben’s voice coming from the front hall.
“Good morning. I pray you slept well,” Ben said.
“I was just about to have breakfast,” said Liam.
Clare left the water closet and moved carefully to the kitchen, listening as the two men made their way to the dining room.
“I apologize for intruding this early, but I worried that with the particular way you acted last night that perhaps your illness might be returning, especially with the damp, cool weather we’ve had of late,” Ben said.
“I assure you, I’m fine,” Liam responded, a tinge of annoyance in his deep voice.
“Oh, I see you’re expecting company. Forgive me.”
“I thought you were Penelope. And I had Gerard set a place for her just in case. But please, I do hope you’ll join me for breakfast. You may take her seat, and if we do hear from her, Gerard can set another place.”
“Of course, I remember you wanted to meet with her. But what about the other plate?”
Obviously the table was set for three. Clare decided it was now or never. If Ben still couldn’t see her, she’d figure out some way to touch him and see if that worked. Besides if she didn’t go to the dining room, she was going to have to steal a piece of ham from the kitchen. She was starving. Obviously time travel gave one a huge appetite.
Without a sound, she stepped to the doorway of the dining room. She met Liam’s gaze as he sat at his place at the head of the table. He held her gaze and smiled.
If Clare didn’t know better, she would have thought the world stopped or at the very least the room tilted.
Ben was seated where he sat the previous night. He saw Liam’s smile and followed his gaze. He stared at her. Then seemed to catch himself and remember his manners.
“Oh, I am sorry. You do have company. I didn’t know. You’ve never…”
Clare gave them both a hesitant smile.
“Please calm yourself, Ben,” Liam said as both men stood, never taking their gazes from her except to look her up and down. Liam even gave her a slight nod of approval.
“Yes, of course.” Ben managed to get a grip on his obvious shock.
She decided to put him out of his misery with a simple, “Good morning, gentleman,” doing her best to appear the southern lady. She could have taken the same seat she’d occupied the previous night, but instead moved purposefully to the third of three place settings at the other end of the table. Liam moved to pull out the chair where Evelyn had sat
the previous evening. The enticing aroma of breakfast had her stomach growling just as much as it had the previous night.
“Ben, may I present to you Miss Clare Newman. Clare, my best friend, Benford.” Liam helped her scoot in before again taking his seat.
Ben’s mouth opened and closed. Twice. Obviously he was speechless. Then he blinked and seemed to get a grip on the situation. “Clare? From your game last night. But I thought…”
“That I was just a figment of his imagination?” Clare smiled.
“Liam has always had a creative imagination. He loves inventing things.”
Clare picked up her napkin and placed it on her lap.
The men followed suit.
“I assure you I’m not just a figment of Liam’s imagination. Although he told me about the game he played on all his friends. The truth is he knew I planned to come for a visit. He just didn’t know when I would arrive. I arrived late last night, after the dinner party. I hope his silly game won’t make it hard for any of you to accept that I’m as real as you are.”
“Of course not,” Ben assured her.
Gerard and Millie filed into the room and set plates filled with ham and hot corn cakes before them.
“Mmmm, thank you.”
“Hungry, Clare?” Liam asked.
“Starving, almost more than I was last night.” As soon as her words popped out, she realized it wasn’t exactly proper. She looked at Ben. “I knew I should stop and spend the night in a hotel, but I was weary of another morning of travel. I pressed on and arrived here late. I’m really sorry I missed the dinner party. Thank goodness Millie had left over gumbo, or I probably would have been eating the guest room pillow.” It was a big lie, but she didn’t mind telling it. After all, Liam’s reputation was at stake. She supposed she should be concerned with her own reputation as well, if she was going to be accepted here. Then again, with the possibility she might wake up tomorrow and be back in the twenty-first century, what did it really matter?
But Liam was right, now was now, and she needed to do what was right for now. That meant protecting both hers and Liam’s reputations.
“And I know how Liam loves inventing things, although he’s rather humble about it.” She met Liam’s gaze and let it warm her before she continued. “That is quite the shower you have in your bath—bathing room.”
She found it impossible to look away from him. Hell, he was handsome, yet a bit rugged. He licked his lips and reminded her of his kiss. Again, her lips tingled. From where she sat, she could smell him. He smelled so good, like leather and man and outdoors, almost better than breakfast. “Wherever did you come up with the idea?”
“Shower?” Ben asked.
Clare glanced at him, but turned her full attention back to Liam in a heartbeat, feeling as if she could literally drink him in. “In your bathing room where the tub is, you devised a shower.”
Liam smiled easily at her. “Ah, the waterfall. It’s not a new idea. The Greeks and the Romans had them. I just invented a larger contraption with a pump so that Gerard only needs to fill it once and light the burners to heat the water. He doesn’t have to lift bucket after bucket. I don’t always have time for a luxurious bath. Sometimes it’s easier to simply stand there, wash up, and rinse off. But in the middle of winter, the last thing I want is to have cold water dumped on me. How did you recognized it?” he directed the question at Clare.
“Do you have one in your bathing room?” Ben questioned.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“What other fine things do you have in Michigan?”
If Liam had asked, Clare would not have minded the question. But Ben studied her as if she were some kind of bug he needed to squash beneath his shoe. She might be out of place here, she might not have a cent of spare change that would be accepted in 1847, but she had her pride and she never backed down from a fight in her life. “Hmmm, where to start? I have a machine that washes my clothes, and one that dries them. I have a machine that toasts my bread for breakfast, and one that makes my coffee. I have one machine that is like a box that shows pictures, and I can learn about news anywhere in the world at any time. And I have another one that is like a wagon and takes me where I want to go faster than any horse.”
Ben stared at her as if she’d just sprouted horns. Then he laughed a forced, sharp laugh. “By God, Liam, you’ve managed to find a woman with an imagination as big as your own. Maybe bigger.” He offered her that endearing grin, again. “You are making this all up. Everything you’ve just said is impossible. Besides, why would anyone want the news for somewhere else in the world? Sounds like a waste of time when you should be taking care of what’s happening right where you are.”
Obviously, someone from the nineteenth century wasn’t able to grasp twenty-first century technology. It was better to leave it alone. “Maybe you’re right.” She offered Ben a sickeningly sweet smile. “Besides, no matter what I might have, Liam, you definitely have the better cook.”
She took a large bite of a corn cake.
Liam seemed to relax at the change of subject. “Oh, yes, I am the envy of all my friends because of my Millie.”
As if on cue, Millie came out of the kitchen and refilled the tea in their cups.
“Thank you,” Clare said, once her cup was filled.
“Cream or sugar?” Liam offered.
“Yes, thank you. I like my tea with just a hint of cream and a bit of sugar.”
“Is that so?” He passed her the sugar bowl and the small pitcher of creamer.
“Yes.” Clare took a large bite of corn cake, which was probably unladylike, but she covered it up with, “Oh, this is heavenly, Millie, you really are a gem of a cook.”
“Thank you, miss,” Millie muttered before she skirted her way out of the room.
Liam took a bite, too.
Ben watched her for another long moment, then he did the same. “Are you really from Michigan?”
She washed down her bite with a drink of tea. “Yes.”
“It’s not very civilized that far north.”
She knew Ben wasn’t done testing her. She had expected that. What she hadn’t expected was the scrutinizing way Ben looked at her, as if perhaps she wasn’t good enough for Liam. The simple thought—after watching the way Evelyn acted the previous night—sent waves of rage boiling through her. She took a long swallow of tea that burned her throat but did nothing to put out the fire of anger. Good thing she knew the history of her state. “My family doesn’t live too far from Fort Mackinac, which has been there—” she had to think and do a bit of subtraction, “a good fifty years, I guess.”
“I guess,” Ben remarked. “And you met Liam where? How?”
“On Long Island. I was visiting cousins, and as it turned out my cousins and Liam were mutual acquaintances.” The lie slid out easily as she remembered Liam’s tale from the dinner party.
“Really? Who? Perhaps I know them, too.”
“Good God, Ben, what is this? Another game of Questions?” Liam said, leaning back in his seat.
“I do apologize for being so forward, but Liam, you are my friend. You’ve been ill recently. Now a stranger, a woman, shows up in your home, unchaperoned. I’m simply making sure her intentions are…”
He left the sentence hanging. Clare finished it for him, “I have no intentions.”
She tossed a glance to Liam. “I’m just here for a visit.” Damn, it felt so much more than that considering Camden Place was hers. But she knew she needed to keep this simple. “However, I assure you any intentions I might have are honorable and in friendship.”
It sounded like the biggest lie she’d ever told in her life, and she didn’t add in unlike Evelyn, who lies about liking gumbo and the pattern on the dinner plates. At the present, she didn’t even know what intentions she might have; the feeling she got in Liam’s arms were far from honorable and way beyond friendship. But she didn’t stop herself from finishing with, “I think your choice of China is beautiful, Liam.”
She considered telling Ben Camden Place now belonged to her. But she was damned tired of being challenged. “I assure you, Ben, I have nothing but respect for Liam.”
She took another long swallow of tea in an effort to curb her anger. The last thing she needed to do was let it take control and cause her to blurt out that the two of them slept spooned up against one another last night. It probably wouldn’t matter that they both had been respectful enough to keep their hands to themselves. Liam had been more than respectable. After all, she’d been good and drunk, and he’d never made one move to touch her inappropriately. Much to her chagrin.
Her next big bite of corn cake melted in her mouth.
“Well, one can never have too many friends.” Ben looked at Clare. “Please, forgive me. I don’t mean to be rude. I just want to know where you stand. I need to know whether or not you are someone who really cares about Liam or whether you’re just another one of his causes. Causes tend to come upon Liam quickly and unexpectedly.”
That is an understatement.
It was sudden. It was more than sudden. It was as if she’d been dropped into the house, like Alice falling down a rabbit hole.
Chapter Six
“Causes?” Clare asked.
“Clare is not one of my causes,” Liam argued. “Ben thinks every time I want to do something to support the city, such as making sure every resident has gas lighting, or feeding the orphan children, or defending those in need, I’m taking on more than one man should.”
“You defend pirates,” Ben argued.
He turned his attention to Ben. “I defend anyone who needs defending. And according to our Constitution, everyone, even pirates, deserves a fair defense, but getting back to the conversation at hand, I know Clare being here, especially after my game last night, seems sudden to you, yet, in fact, it really isn’t.”
“It isn’t?” Ben asked.
He noticed Clare clamped her mouth shut and he wondered if she hadn’t almost blurted the same words at the same time.
“No.” Liam knew he was rushing things, but it was important that his friend accept her. He reached out and grasped Clare’s hand. He felt her tense beneath his touch, but she didn’t pull away, thank goodness. “I’ve known Clare for some time. I ordered the piano for her.” He studied her as he spoke.
Camden Place: The Haunted Book Three Page 8