Dominic waved her away before brushing back his hair with a sweep of his hand.
“I asked some of the men at that picnic. They were only too happy to give me advice – all of it contradictory – before sending me on my way. I picked up some shingles and more advice in the village this morning.” Dominic grinned down at her, his straight, white teeth flashing in the bright August sunshine, though he shook the hammer threateningly. “And why are you out here? You are too cruel – first you make me toil for you and then deny me a decent meal!”
“The meal was ruined before you came out here! And I never asked you to climb to the roof.”
“My mending the roof wasn’t the physical labor to which I was referring.” Dominic gave her a wolfish grin and Mia blushed scarlet though she couldn’t think of anything clever to retort. She really couldn’t complain about his performance in the kitchen.
“It is unbearably warm even for August,” Dominic said as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it at Mia who reflexively caught it and then swallowed hard at how striking he looked. She had seen him naked before but only in the near darkness of night or the dimness of the cottage whose windows were small and dingy.
The hours he had spent riding over the summer had lightened his hair, his sun-bleached locks striking against his slightly tanned skin. His more physical lifestyle combined with her lackluster cooking had leaned down his body – he had been eye-catching when he first arrived but now Mia couldn’t think of a woman who wouldn’t lust over the bulge of his bicep or the leanness of his waist. The angle of his hip bones, their sharp lines jutting against his flat stomach, directed her eyes to something that made her throat suddenly feel dry and her knees weak, despite enjoying his body only minutes earlier.
It was terribly unfair.
“My family would be shocked if they saw me shirtless. My mother, certainly, just for the sake of propriety though my sisters should be more blasé about the idea. I believe they saw their share of military statues when we toured Italy a few years back.”
For some reason, Mia’s blank look made Dominic grin again, even as he reached down to pick up some long roofing nails.
“The statues of the Roman soldiers can not be accurate,” Dominic explained. “They are depicted wearing helmets and cloaks but nothing much else. It seems ridiculous to think a Roman would not want to protect the things that men treasure the most…even if those statues’ treasures were rather unimpressive. At least, compared to my own impressive dimensions. Maybe those poor fellows were completely average for Romans. Perhaps that’s why their wives didn’t complain when they kept leaving home to conquer foreign lands.”
Mia rolled her eyes at his inflated male ego but couldn’t really protest…she had only felt one other man’s specimen in her life, and she hadn’t been that curious about Jack’s dimensions – impressive or not. She could easily believe that every part of Dominic’s anatomy put other men to shame.
It was amazing at how uninhibited Dominic seemed – as if he had been slowly shedding a restrictive skin and now could finally move more fluidly, even breathe more easily. The man she met in June would never have considered holding a hammer, and definitely would never have climbed a roof to do his own repairs. He wouldn’t have tipped his hat to anyone not in his social sphere and now he was accepting…no, requesting roofing tips from farmhands. His earlier persona seemed to belong to a different man entirely.
“They stand like this,” Dominic continued as he stood squarely, his head thrown back as he peered, steely eyed at the horizon, his hand resting on his imaginary sword hilt which doubled as the hammer’s head. “Nothing but a helmet to block a barbarian’s cruel blade.”
Mia giggled despite her efforts to remain unimpressed and Dominic pointed the hammer at her.
“Oh ho! I see how interested you on in these Roman commanders. As soon as I mend this roof – and I assure you that not one drop of rain will ever creep into our house again! – I’m going to write my steward and ask him to find me a Roman helmet and have him ship it here as soon as possible so I can give you a true representation.” Dominic balanced himself again over the bare patch on the roof and called down over his shoulder, “But it’s only fair that I then get to choose your costume. You can be Cleopatra to my Caesar. Though you are a bit pale for an Egyptian. Perhaps Helen to my Paris. Those Greeks loved to walk around naked too. Though their weather doesn’t seem all that conducive to that kind of behavior. That amount of sunshine would cause burns and blisters. Perhaps that explains why their personal attributes were so shriveled.”
Shaking her head and pretending that she was not both embarrassed and intrigued by his suggestions, Mia turned towards the creek, intent on soaking the pot in hopes that the water would loosen the charred bits of carrots and potatoes now glued to the bottom. A flash of movement caught her eye, and she looked up the hill to where the road began to curve towards the village. A man in bottle green livery was riding down the hill, the drooping of his head the first indicator of his long journey. As the duo came closer, the man seemed to perk up and Mia realized that his destination had to be the cottage.
“Sir?” she called up cautiously and Dominic stopped his hammering to look up at the visitor.
“Mia, toss me my shirt and get back into the house.”
His concerned expression and clipped tone told her everything she needed to know.
Their enchanted summer was over.
Chapter 15
Mia picked up the novel that Dominic had left on the table and walked out the cottage door. She had brushed his black riding jacket clean of the merest hint of dirt and made certain his black necktie was well-starched and unwrinkled. She had packed his saddle bag with items he would need for his journey but nothing that would weigh him down needlessly. The rest of his trunks would be eventually shipped back to his family’s estate, but Dominic had no time to wait for them now.
Dominic stood with Monaco by the road but, at the sight of her, quickly crossed over the footbridge.
“Would you like me to pack this or will you want to read it on the train ride?” Mia held out the slate blue book with its yellowing pages, the title barely distinguishable on the cover.
“I know you haven’t finished it. I’ll purchase my sister another copy.”
Mia considered refusing but then realized it truly didn’t matter. His sister likely could buy a hundred copies and never think of the cost.
“I’ve left a reference on the table. My name alone should gain you a position at any household in the country.”
“Thank you, sir,” Mia responded shortly, hating how collected Dominic seemed, his demeanor again stiff and composed since he received the letter from his family as if the news had instantly reminded him of who he should be instead of how he had been living.
“And you can write me if you need…anything. If there’s a child…”
“That seems unlikely.”
And she wasn’t referring to a child. She could hardly know so early but they had only participated a handful of times in the activity needed to produce a baby. It hardly seemed likely that a pregnancy would occur. And in any case, she knew that she’d never write him to beg for assistance.
“I have something for you,” Dominic said as he reached into his saddle bags and pulled out a crumpled ball of white silk. Mia took it and unraveled the fabric gently. Stockings with delicate purple flowers embroidered from the ankle to knee unspooled in her hand.
“I saw you admiring them at the Grantham fair, and I knew you only have a few pair. The flowers appear to be violets, but I was thinking of you and lilacs when I purchased them. I even carried them around in Traversley’s ridiculous spoon case. I was waiting for the best time to give them to you…”
His rambling explanation almost made her smile but when he trailed off uncomfortably, she realized the implication. A man didn’t give stockings as gifts to a woman he respected. Silk stockings were for high class courtesans, the kind of women who showed off the
ir ankles and calves, the kind who reveled in expensive but rather useless gifts from their lovers.
She wadded the stockings in her fist and gave a jerky nod of thanks but avoided looking him in the eye. Now she felt common and humiliated over the most expensive gift she had ever received in her life.
“Damn it, Mia,” Dominic burst out, now as frustrated with her polite coolness as she had been with his. “I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to!”
“I understand,” Mia replied, disappointment and self-pity making her voice clipped.
And she did understand. If she had received news that her father was dangerously ill, she would rush to his side.
But there was a great difference to reasonably understanding life’s disappointments and cheerfully accepting the rotten hand fate kept giving you.
Dominic stepped forward and clasped both her hands in his and Mia was startled at the fierceness of his grip. She looked him, his handsome face eager and his eyes burning with excitement – as if he had just had the most marvelous revelation and had to share it with the world.
“Come with me, Mia,” he asked, his smile widening as the thought seemed to take root in his head. “I’ll hire a carriage now to take us to the train station. Together.”
Her brain seemed to have stopped and a loud buzzing started in her ears. Her heart pounded madly, an ecstatic tattoo, but her more pragmatic mouth didn’t make the sound.
Dominic ignored her stunned silence, lifted her off her feet and spun in a circle, laughing as if they had just escaped a gallows’ hanging.
“Pack a bag quickly,” he said after a quick, hard kiss on her still slack mouth. With exuberance, he strode back into the house though Mia stayed rooted by the front door. He called from the recesses of the cottage, “There’s a wonderful little house right outside the village. It’s only a mile from the Hall But we perhaps should reside in London. Just outside Mayfair! I’ll hire a cook and a maid or two. We can leave for the City as soon as my mother is well again. Which would you prefer? Are you a country mouse or a city mouse? Mia?”
She could hear the thud of his footsteps slowing as he realized she had not followed him inside. He returned to the door, looking at her with a curious smile on his face.
“I really have to get home to my family. I can’t dawdle any longer,” he explained, his expression clearly saying that she had better pack quickly.
“No, I think I’ll remain here,” Mia stated, anger and sorrow clashing in her chest though her voice remained steady.
“Why?” Dominic demanded as he walked back out into the late summer sunshine and Mia put herself between him and the cottage door while she tried to organize her thoughts. She didn’t want her arguments perceived as emotional rantings.
“Will the house be mine forever or only until you’re done with me?” Mia finally asked, her voice wavering despite her efforts to be calm, her eyes bright and fierce. “Will I get to stay when you marry someone else and have legitimate children? Will your real family also learn of me when they read your will?”
Dominic reared back as if she had slapped him and she knew that he had never thought of the pain this could cause her and eventually others - because he was a man and accustomed to getting what he wanted. There was no decision in his world that could possibly result in bleak possibilities. No matter what he decided now, he would still live a fantastical life – he was rich and titled and handsome. When he tired of her, he would find a new lover…and if he were feeling generous, she’d get an expensive piece of jewelry she could sell to keep her fed for a few years.
“Mia, be reasonable,” Dominic said with a placating grin, as if she were some temperamental but adorable toddler who was being uncooperative. “I can’t marry a maid. It’s tantamount to declaring myself an insurrectionist. I’d lose all respectability and my family name would be hopelessly blackened. I can’t do that to my sisters.”
And she knew he was right…but she wanted to be worth such a loss. She wanted for someone, just once, to pick her over all else. He was willing for her to lose all her friends, to be unable to face any upstanding person, to become his whore while he sacrificed nothing.
At her continued silence, Dominic threw up his hands in exasperation.
“Everything has to be your idea. You always have to be orchestrating the plans. You came to me that first time. You wouldn’t accept those suitors because marriage to them wasn’t in your notion. You tell these tales where all you wanted as a girl was a home, a family. I’m offering you that, Mia, and you still won’t accept it! I could save you from all this.”
“You are offering me a house, not a home. You are offering me a month, perhaps a year. Not forever! Do you think I’m too naïve to know the difference?” Mia rasped hoarsely. “And even if it was forever, I’d never be able to show my face in church again. My children would think me a whore. I’d lose all respectability.”
Dominic opened his mouth as if to argue but Mia blazed on. “Do you know why I rejected three, or was it four, marriage proposals? Those men didn’t know me. They decided it was time to get married, and I happened to fit their criteria. And furthermore, those men thought I should be grateful. They thought I should be down on my knees thanking God that a decent man would provide a roof over my head. I knew I would constantly have to be thanking them for saving me from my pitiful life of servitude even if I was just exchanging one dreary existence for another. But they still thought more of me than you do…they weren’t embarrassed for me to share their name, to introduce me to their mother, to have my children inherit their farm or business!”
All her attempts at control had been abandoned. She had heard her voice echoing off the surrounding hills, screeching like a madwoman. Or perhaps the echoing was only inside her head. Her hands were shaking with anger and she couldn’t seem to control her ragged breath. To her horror, her eyes were swimming with tears, and she realized she couldn’t remember the last time she had cried. Not even when Jack had betrayed her, and she had to pack her things in humiliation.
And tears seemed to burn more than she remembered, and she realized they were not just for him and his insulting offer. She was angry at herself for wanting more than she could ever have…for hoping, even for a foolish second, that the past week could mean something real and lasting.
They stared balefully at each other, all laughter and compatibility now gone in the clash of wills and expectations.
Monaco’s impatient nicker broke their angry silence – he was either anxious from the tension in the air or exasperated for being left saddled but unmoving for so long.
Stepping smartly backwards into the cool, darkness of the cottage, Mia kept her face carefully blank though her furious tears leaked out the corner of her eyes and slid down to her chin.
“I don’t need saved. And I won’t be kept. Have a good journey, my lord.”
She shut the door, and it never made a sound on its well-soaped hinges.
∞∞∞
“Oh, it’s raining forks’tiyunsdown’ards!” Lettice exclaimed as she let herself into the cottage, shook off huge water droplets clinging to the strip of cloth she had used to cover her blonde curls, and eased herself into the rocking chair with a sigh.
Despite her sour mood, Mia had to smile; the rain had been coming down in buckets since the day Dominic had left and she couldn’t help but feel grim satisfaction at the thought of him and his proud gelding trudging through the mud for days. He’d arrive with his usually perfect locks plastered to his face and his boots and jacket would certainly be ruined. Good.
“I thought the walk over here – along with the storm – would be sure to get this baby out but it’s very stubborn. Must be a girl!” Lettice rubbed her now enormous belly fondly. “And I thought I’d better pop in and see how you are getting on with setting the cottage to rights. Must be an easy job without a man underfoot.”
Mia nodded and looked around the oddly barren room. Dominic’s trunks had been hauled away that morning and without th
eir cluttering presence, the cottage’s rooms looked larger but seemed like an empty shell of a house now. Mia had avoided looking directly into the face of Dominic’s footman as he loaded the trunks into the cart, but she had seen his pitying, knowing look – a look that clearly indicated she was another naïve country girl dazzled by a rich lover.
And he was far from wrong. How many other women over the years had the footman patted awkwardly on the shoulder before he hoisted himself into a cart to carry valuables, the things that truly mattered, home to his master?
“I know you don’t have a new position yet so I thought you may want to stay with me and John at least until the mop fair. He said he wouldn’t mind, and you’d be a great help when the baby finally arrives. You can have Willie’s bed this time around and we’ll let him sleep with us. It’s not like he’d be interrupting anything with me in this state!” Lettice laughed though irritation flashed briefly in her bright green eyes when Mia didn’t answer.
“Don’t tell me you’re pining after that fancy lordling still? Miss having someone order you about all day and complain when there’s no pudding?” Lettice joked as she heaved herself out of the chair, using sheer determination more than grace for leverage.
Mia rolled her eyes and shook her head mutely but, when Lettice’s soft, warm, and slightly damp arms wrapped around her, she found herself breaking into silent sobs.
It was ridiculous to cry.
She had known exactly how far their dalliance would go…no farther than the cottage door and no longer than the end of summer. She had accepted it from the very beginning. And she had been disappointed in men before, though only her pride and her confidence had been damaged with Jack’s betrayal. Her heart had remained remarkably intact until now.
“Oh, Mia,” Lettice said helplessly as she rubbed Mia’s shaking shoulders. “I was just having a laugh about him with you. I didn’t think you’d truly be so foolish.”
One Enchanted Summer Page 17