The Attwood sisters’ room’s vanity was littered with neck ribbons, fans, and earrings while numerous shawls dangled from the back of the chair but on the whole, the room was fairly tidy. Mia began to dust carefully around the accessories – Annie had warned her to keep everything exactly where it was found, or she could be accused of thievery – when the door swung open.
“I could hardly believe it when I learned that you were working at Darwinkle House.”
It seemed Dominic had not lingered in the conservatory. Mia clutched the dusting cloth in her hands, resisting the urge to move closer. If it had been devastating to see him from afar, their proximity now was torture. His hair, once lightened by the hours in the sun, now had dark golden roots but he still looked as handsome, strong, and confident.
“You’ve lost weight.”
It seems he didn’t find her the same.
“I’m perfectly well,” Mia muttered. She had never had much of an appetite and without Dominic pressing her to indulge in more filling meals and sweets, she had returned to her thinner figure. She wouldn’t admit unhappiness had sped her weight loss.
“I’ve been here for days. Watching for you.”
He hadn’t come closer, but she still caught that very familiar aroma of him – leather and orange oil and that elusive scent that she now associated with walnut oil, but it wasn’t.
“How long have you been employed here?”
“Since September.”
“Do they treat you well? Are they fair employers?”
“I’ve had worse.”
He grinned, just a momentary flash, at her pert response and her heart threatened to leap out of her chest. He walked further into the room, glanced at the still unmade bed, and then glanced at Mia. Both of them flushed.
“I, uh, tried to avoid idleness, just like you suggested. I built a set of shelves. They’re much better than my stable attempt!” he assured her. “Poor Monaco only has one ride a day now that I keep myself occupied. I’ve even left him back in Hampshire for this trip.”
“He likely needed the rest after his exhausting summer.”
Their stilted language and stiff postures reminded Mia of when they first became acquainted. It seemed impossible that people who had once been lovers, who had wiled away entire mornings exploring each other’s bodies, would now find themselves nodding awkwardly like two strangers on the street. Perhaps one of them should mention the weather to make the farce complete.
“Did you know I was here?” Dominic asked, his question politely curious but his dark eyes stared at her with an intensity that made her breathing difficult.
“We were informed of the entire guest list days ago, but I didn’t recognize your titled name,” Mia equivocated.
“I was astonished when Lady Darwinkle mentioned your name while taking tea in our London house. Later, I received an overeffusive letter detailing your wonderful qualities as a maid here. It was riddled with spelling errors and I found it hard to believe that Mrs. Greave wrote such a missive.”
Mia shrugged noncommittally. She doubted Mrs. Greaves would have penned such a letter either but had no idea who the author had been. And she couldn’t attempt to speculate about it now at any rate; her mind was still spinning with the knowledge that Dominic and she were in close proximity again.
“You must have been in my room once earlier,” Dominic continued. “I caught the scent of lilacs.”
Now that he mentioned it, Mia realized that she had been liberally using the last of her lilac oil in her hair. Perhaps she’d been hoping that he would notice even as she avoided being in the same room with him.
“God, I’ve missed you.”
And that was all they both needed to hear. He crossed the room and crushed her in his arms, their desperate mouths finally finding each other after months of separation. It hardly mattered that this wasn’t even his bedroom or that this was against all the societal rules they had both followed forever. It was so much simpler to give in to temptation, to thrill when he pressed her against his broad chest and melded his lips to hers, to ignore the sound of someone’s careless heel crushing the lid of the hatbox that had been left on the floor as he backed her towards the bed. Her hands clutched his shoulders as they fell to the down-filled mattress, the twisted sheets and bedspread trapped beneath them. She gasped in anticipation when she felt his fingers, still slightly calloused, make their way steadily past her violet-embroidered stockings. How easy it was to imagine they were back in the wide warm bed in the darkened cottage and let his comforting body sink into hers without thinking of tomorrow or even five minutes from now…
A voice outside broke the spell and Mia’s cerulean eyes popped back open. She frantically pressed her palms to Dominic’s shoulders until he rolled off of her.
“We can’t do this,” Mia stammered, as she sat up and started putting her clothing to rights. “Someone will come.”
Dominic didn’t argue with her. “Come with me. We’ll leave tonight. No, now. By the time you pack your things, I’ll have transport arranged. We can find an inn to stop for the night.”
“And from there? That charming cottage outside the village?”
Mia was shaking from both shame and anger. She shouldn’t have been thrilled just to be in his company again. She certainly shouldn’t have encouraged him to kiss her again when nothing had changed. She was again an easy tumble, someone desperate for any crumb of affection from him.
“Mia, we can be happy,” Dominic insisted as he tugged his necktie back into its proper place. “I’ve been miserable without you. Not a moment goes by that I don’t think of how I’d rather be with you.”
She ignored him as she bent to pick up the dust cloth that had fallen to the floor. She had no intention of staying to clean the room. The bed would remain unmade and Dominic would have to think of an excuse of why his sister’s hatbox was ruined.
Mia touched the handle of the door when he grabbed her arm to prevent her from opening it.
“Mia, we love each other. And that’s enough.”
He looked like he believed it. And perhaps it was true for him at that moment.
But it wasn’t for her.
“It will never happen. We are Ivanhoe and Rebecca,” Mia spat. She gave a dismissive wave towards the crumpled bedsheets. “That will never happen again. And this summer was all a terrible mistake.”
She wrenched open the door and dashed into the hallway, trying unsuccessfully to hold back tears.
Edith and Lord Felling were standing at the top of the main staircase. Both looked mildly surprised when Mia dashed past them. At that moment, she didn’t care if she scandalized the guests; her only thought was getting to the servants’ stairs and then to the safety of her bedroom where she could cry in peace.
She didn’t glance behind to see Dominic’s reaction to her exit, but he must have followed her because she heard his sister say in astonishment,
“Dominic, why were you in my bedroom? Were you lost, you ninny? And you’ve gone and terrified the poor maid!”
Chapter 18
“And Needleby is bringing an electrical contraption for the after-dinner entertainment!” Burton Bingham announced happily and grinned when his sister-in-law Edith clapped her hands in excitement. “I knew you’d be one for it, Edith. And you, Georgiana? I believe the electric kiss will be played!”
“Certainly then!” Georgiana readily agreed before shooting her mother an irritated look. “And no one actually is kissed, Mama. It’s merely a moniker. What’s the name of that apparatus?”
“I believe it’s called a static generator,” Venetia supplied as her silver crochet needle flashed above a long length of ivory lace.
Dominic had been prepared to sit in the drawing room and glower into the fire for hours, ruminating on the ridiculous flights of the female mind, when his dearest relations had invaded while they waited for their fellow guests to arrive for supper. Their hosts were still not present either. The Darwinkle ladies were notoriously
slow in completing their toilette and no one had an inkling of where Lord Darwinkle had disappeared.
And why he wanted to darkly dwell on Mia was beyond him in any case. She had rejected him twice – two times more than any other woman had done – and the experience was not only baffling but terribly annoying, especially from someone who should never have entered his thoughts in the first place, much less be firmly entrenched there like a cow sinking in a peat bog. There, comparing Mia to a mud-slicked cow should be enough to banish all romantic images of her from his mind…but it didn’t.
It wasn’t as if Mia was the most beautiful of his previous lovers. Lady Middleton was the reigning beauty of their time and she had been furious when Dominic had ended their relationship. Madeline Cummings was considered brilliant and Honora Collingwood made men quake with her biting turn of phrase. Felicia Needleham had suggested things in the bedroom that he was quite sure would earn him a sound slap if he even mentioned one of them to Mia.
Worst of all, Mia had expected things from him. Any other woman of his past had been delighted if he had shown up at their door, no matter the hour, honored that he desired to be with them. He was quite sure that if he ever gave any indication to Mia that he had somewhere more interesting to be, she’d never open a door to him again. Hell, the woman didn’t even look especially impressed when he did chores around a cottage. Him, an earl and likely the most handsome man in England, had been performing like a common laborer for her comfort and she never once thanked him!
“Whatever is keeping the Darwinkles? And Lord Felling? And that Pritchard fellow?” Lady Swithun demanded with a scowl.
“We are a bit early, Mama. I believe Lord Pritchard is washing up after his ride,” Georgiana offered and then flushed when her sisters exchanged a look. “I just happened to see him coming from the stables from my bedroom window!”
“I forgot to write your aunt a letter,” Lady Swithun announced to the room at large as she rose from her seat. “If it’s to arrive before Christmas, I will have to post it tomorrow. Which means I must write it tonight. Since we are the only ones who are timely, I suppose I have the opportunity now. Not that I have anything of note to relate. My children have been remarkably dull as of late. If the Darwinkles do appear, please send a maid to my room to announce that supper is served.”
None of her progeny bothered to refute her cutting words as Lady Swithun swept from the room.
Dominic continued to ruminate on his and Mia’s last exchange. Mia had barely spoken a word to him in his sisters’ bedroom. He had carried the entirety of the conversation while she merely answered questions. He had made every effort while she stood there. Of course, when he had kissed her, she had kissed him back. That had to mean something.
“Georgiana,” Dominic interrupted his sisters’ conversation. “Does Rebecca love Ivanhoe?”
“Pardon?” Georgiana said, nonplussed by the turn of topic.
“In Ivanhoe, does Rebecca love Ivanhoe?” Dominic fiddled with his wine glass, unwilling to reveal even to himself how much Georgiana’s answer mattered.
“Oh, Dominic, you borrowed my book and never even bothered to read it!” Georgiana practically wailed. “And you never returned it either!”
“Just answer my question,” Dominic snapped at her.
“Obviously Rebecca loves him!” Georgiana shook her head as if he was a simpleton.
“She loves him,” Dominic repeated with some satisfaction, nodding grimly at the blazing fire.
“And he loves her. But that doesn’t matter. They can’t be together,” Georgiana continued. She shrank back into the sofa as Dominic turned and glowered at her. “She’s Jewish and he’s Christian. They can’t exist in each other’s worlds and they know it. Ivanhoe marries Rowena – someone who is much more suitable but far less interesting.”
“Well, what happens to Rebecca?” Edith demanded, who had also declined reading Ivanhoe despite Georgiana’s persistent urging.
“She goes with her father to Spain.” Georgiana shrugged.
“Spain?”
“Well, they were always wanderers.”
The conversation spun out of control as his sisters started arguing about the merits and drawbacks of traveling to Spain.
“I’m going to see if Lavinia has a copy of Ivanhoe. You really must read it, Edith. I cannot understand why you haven’t already!” Georgiana rose and dashed from the room in a flurry of skirts.
“Perhaps I’ll accompany her and see if I can convince Lavinia and Sylvia to not dawdle any longer. I can’t do anything about Lady Darwinkle’s tardiness. If Mother returns from writing her letter and we still are not assembled, she’ll murder us all!” Edith followed her sister out at a more sedate pace.
“Well, I am intrigued. Can’t think of why I haven’t read Ivanhoe earlier. I’ll peruse the library and see if Lord Darwinkle has a copy there. And the lace is looking beautiful, Venetia. It will be absolutely perfect for…whatever you are thinking of trimming,” Burton declared as he gallantly kissed Venetia’s hand farewell, earning him a disgusted look from his brother-in-law.
The room now effectively cleared, Dominic shot a curious look at his elegant sister who remained seated, the hank of silk yarn at her feet still steadily unspooling.
“I know you don’t like Bingham,” she said baldly, not looking up from her work. “But you don’t need to constantly display your distaste. He quite likes you.”
Dominic glared at the top of her golden head. It was clear that he was not only not allowed to brood alone, he would now be entangled in an emotionally fraught conversation. But perhaps not. Venetia was the closest to him in temperament and he couldn’t recall her soothing voice rising an octave in her life. But then, he had never known her to be very domestic, and she appeared to have taken up lacework. Not even the fine quality lace that people would assume was from Brussels or an Italian nunnery but the coarse simple work that the Irish were now desperately exporting.
Though it was ridiculous for Venetia to even pretend that Bingham liking Dominic was a point in Bingham’s favor; Bingham liked everyone’s company…which was precisely why he was so annoying. Indiscriminate enjoyment of people was an unusual and deplorable character flaw.
“You know who would like Bingham?” Venetia continued conversationally as she held up the lace to the oil lamp to inspect her handiwork. “Father. He would have adored Bingham. He would have felt quite superior to him and that was Father’s favorite type of company – his inferiors. Which is precisely why he never liked you.”
Dominic felt off balanced and confused, much like the one time he had found himself inexplicably on the ground after being unseated from his pony as a child. He had always known his father hadn’t held a great deal of paternal affection for him, but it was quite shocking to hear his own sister declare such a thing even after all these years.
He was trying to form a sarcastic and clever reply, but nothing occurred to him before Venetia continued, her eyes again watching the steady movements of her waving needle.
“You had his handsome features but Mother’s nobility, his golden hair but her quicker wit. Everything he had, you just had a bit more and he really couldn’t bear it. Rather sad for a parent not to be delighted at the success of a child but there you have it.” Venetia shrugged.
Dominic recalled with a grimace all the times where his father had criticized his school marks – which had always been exceptional, his handling of a horse – though his instructors had always been impressed. He had even disparaged the way Dominic’s voice had cracked once at dinner when he was twelve.
“He was less disapproving of us girls. After all, we were only females. No one was ever going to compare us to him and realize that he was a bit lacking.” Venetia again held up the lacework to the light and then held it against the length of her arm as if she were measuring it before continuing to loop the silk threads. “How much easier it must have been to be with his other family.”
“You knew?” Dominic said in
shock and she rolled her eyes at his foolish assumption of his greater understanding of their family secrets.
“I’ve known about her before his death. You were at school, but it wasn’t exactly a secret…the rows Mama and he had! Georgiana may have a slight suspicion, but poor Edith is ignorant to everything. But then again, she was so young even when he died. Why do you think there’s such a gap between Georgiana and Edith’s births? Mama desperately wanted another boy – a visible reminder that his true ties and future heirs were here amongst his real family and not with that woman and her son. She only had Edith, but I truly doubt if a boy would have made a difference to him.
“They must have had a comfortable home. No disapproval from a wife who was always a bit superior and only a little child tumbling about. It inevitably made him feel younger instead of seeing his grown son almost ready to leave university. It must have been very dispiriting to return to our fractious home when his sojourns were over.”
“You know everything?” Dominic demanded as he stood and walked closer, no longer content with glaring at his sister from across the room.
“Yes, the boy’s name is Robby, and he’s now a clerk at a bank though I may have gently suggested to his superiors that he be promoted soon. He’s rather handsome… not as striking as you but then who could be?”
“You’ve seen him?” Dominic flopped into the chair adjacent to her and nearly ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. He remembered at the last moment that he still had to attend dinner and couldn’t be seen disheveled.
“Certainly. He is my brother. I’ve been checking on his health and well-being ever since Father died. I’ve sent him a message informing how to contact me if he ever has the notion. It’s rather remarkable how well he truly is given his parentage. His mother is a bit of a peahen. Forever misplacing things. Always looks like a strong gust of wind has blown her hair and clothing askew even when she has just left the house.”
“You’ve met her?”
One Enchanted Summer Page 21