Since Reese found some of Nellie’s lady guests insipid and the men chauvinistic, Reese found other things to do at Twickenham, rather than risk causing problems. It seemed off that Jem also chose to stay at home rather than go out with Kaitlyn and Cyrus. Like his sister, he’d always been social, seeking company in whatever he was doing. Reese was sure that had been the motivation behind the many times he’d invited her to come along for some of his childhood escapades.
On the third day, Lulu had arrived before breakfast with the split riding habit.
“This is quite imaginative, miss,” the maid had said as she buttoned up the back. “I can hardly tell ‘tis not a gown.”
“Hopefully I won’t challenge anyone’s sensibilities,” Reese had said. “In the future, women will wear breeches as commonly as men do.”
“I have heard that, but I find it hard to believe.”
“Well, a world war changes a lot of things,” Reese had said.
The maid’s mouth had formed an “O,” but she’d said nothing, and Reese had left for the stables.
When she had mounted Honey again, her bum had been a little sore, but she’d adjusted quickly. The shift in position by riding astride had helped, and by the fourth day, she had barely noticed any discomfort. Jem had commented on how much better he felt every time they rode. Each day, their journeys had taken them farther abroad.
On Thursday, they came across Lady Ellen, who was also out for a ride.
“I am so happy to see you both again,” her ladyship said, her bright smile lighting up her face. “The days have been so flat since Aunt Nellie’s ball.”
“Sir Slimy hasn’t been hanging around, has he?” Reese asked.
“That name, Miss Clarisse!” Ellen giggled. “But no. He has returned to London, and even were he still here, he could not visit when my brother is away.”
“Well, that’s good,” Jem said.
“Would you like to ride with us?” Reese asked.
“I would love to.” Ellen joined them, and her groom took a place beside Walter.
“What do you do with your time?” Reese asked.
“I love the gardens. With the help of the head gardener, we have them looking quite lovely now,” she said. “When my brother returns, he is likely to bring guests with him. The gardens provide them a pleasant place to stroll when they tire of being indoors.”
Jem went on to ask the girl questions about her favorite flowers, and she chatted happily. Reese wondered who else lived at Kellworth besides Ellen and her servants.
The path they had been following joined a road.
“Where does this lead, Walter?” Reese asked.
“To Aunt Nellie’s village,” he said.
“She has a village?” Jem asked.
“It’s where her tenants live,” Ellen said. “My brother has several, though I have never been to one.”
“Them there are cottiers,” Walter said.
“Cottiers?” Reese thought the word sounded vaguely familiar.
“Some as call themselves cottagers,” Walter said. “They farm Aunt Nellie’s lands.”
“They don’t live on separate farms?” Jem asked.
“Them are her tenants who farm larger sections of land,” Walter said. “These people work small patches of land, and some are the families of staff.”
Ellen had signaled her groom to come to her. While her ladyship was busy talking to her servant, Reese drew her horse closer to Walter.
“Your people live here?” Reese asked softly.
“A few.” The older man gave a little smile.
Reese found it interesting that some of the faerie staff lived in the same village as regular people. Did that ever lead to romances between the two races?
“Can we talk with them?” she whispered. A village like this was where the real living was going on, with these people who worked the land for the benefit of the property owners. And here was a chance to talk with real people and not all those spoiled rich brats at Nellie’s.
The groom considered her, stroking his chin in thought. “Aunt Nellie has instructed me to keep watch on you, Miss Clarisse,” he said, his voice low, almost apologetic. “She said when something tests your sense of injustice, you tend to forget yourself.”
“I promise to be good.” Reese put her hands together as though in prayer.
Jem gave a low snort. “That’s like trying to catch the wind in your fingers.”
“Oh, stop it.” Reese dropped her hands, scowling at them both. “I’m getting better, and I only go a little crazy when I’m around the entitled nobility.”
“Please understand I have the power to make you behave.” Walter leaned in, his expression serious. He looked like much more than a head groom.
“Are you threatening me?” A chill went down Reese’s back.
“Merely speaking plain, miss.” He reminded her of Kaitlyn’s father at his sternest, that day when he had gone after the two girls for not caring for their horses first thing after a ride. “We have a responsibility that requires us to reside here. It is important to protect Aunt Nellie’s reputation. Have no fear that I would harm you. You would simply forget what you wished to say.”
“Like Obliviate from Harry Potter?” Reese muttered to Jem.
“Miss Clarisse will mind what she says,” he assured the man.
“As you say, sir.” Walter nodded, but his expression made it clear he would be watching.
“We’re going ahead to visit the village, Lady Ellen,” Reese said. “Do you want to come with us?”
The girl shot Jem a quick glance before saying, “I would love to.”
They urged their horses forward, and in a few minutes, they entered a small village with its double row of neat little cottages with their charming thatched roofs. Reese wondered where they did their shopping. There hadn’t been an opportunity to visit any of the surrounding towns yet, so she had no idea how long it took people to travel there.
Curious women came out of the cottages, and a small group of children who had been playing outside gathered in the middle of the lane, almost like a welcoming committee. They practically danced with excitement at having visitors.
Like a masterful senior servant, comfortable in his position and in the work, Walter nodded at some of them and said, “Lady Ellen Hildebrand of Kellworth. The two accompanying her ladyship are guests of Aunt Nellie’s from America, Mr. Jamison Taylor and his cousin Miss Clarisse Hamilton.”
Everyone either bowed or curtsied, including the children, which Reese found adorable. She smiled and waved at them, making eye contact with as many as would meet hers.
“I want to meet them all.” She swung her right leg over the saddle and slid off. Some of the women gasped at the split riding habit. When Reese shook out her skirts so it looked like a dress, they stared, fascinated. Reese patted her palomino, whispered to her, and let Walter take the reins. Jem and Ellen had dismounted and joined her.
“Tell us your names,” Reese said to the children. When they all cried them out at once, she laughed.
“Why, they are charming,” Ellen whispered, like she was surprised.
“One at a time,” Jem said. “Start with you.” He pointed to the tallest boy, who looked about ten.
“Billy,” he said. “Can you tell us about America?”
“We live in a big city,” Reese said, “but we can answer your questions once everyone has given us their names.”
After they had finished, the children started calling out questions again. Jem pointed to a shady area with a small grouping of tree stumps set around a fire pit. It must be their social gathering place.
“Let’s sit over there,” he said.
Reese and Ellen started to follow them, but a light touch on Reese’s sleeve made her pause.
“Miss.” The middle-aged woman gave a timid curtsy, glancing nervously at her ladyship.
Sensing intimidation in the cottager about being close to the Earl’s sister, Reese waved for Ellen to go with Jem. When the gir
l did, Reese turned and extended her hand to the village woman.
“How do you do?” Reese said. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Mary Smith, miss.” She looked uncertain, so Reese clasped her hand in a firm grip and shook it. The woman curtsied again. “Might I ask about your unusual dress?”
“Sure, though I’m not the one who made it.” Reese held up her hands and turned both ways. “Aunt Nellie’s dressmaker did.”
“She does beautiful work.” Mary examined the dress. “I hear them Frog ladies sometimes wear habits like yours. ‘Tis very clever.”
Reese opened her mouth to ask what a “Frog” lady was, and then she remembered the English called the French that.
“Are you a seamstress?” Reese asked.
“Aye, I am.”
“Have you ever made dresses for Lady Ellen?”
“The Earl ain’t likely to have someone as lowly as me make his sister’s fine gowns,” Mary said matter-of-factly.
Reese could believe that. “Did you do the needlework on your dress?” She pointed to the intricate embroidery. “It’s beautiful.”
“I did, miss.” The woman’s cheeks flushed, and her expression lightened. “My mother used to work in a great house before she married. She taught me.”
“Do you have children?”
“Two of them are mine.” Mary nodded toward the group of children surrounding Jem.
He stood at their center, his eyes wide to exaggerate whatever he was telling them, his arms waving. Ellen sat on a log stump, laughing along with the children, but her expression was even more adoring. He’d always had that effect on people, kids and adults. They just liked Jem. And why not? He was a great guy with an almost uncanny ability to sense when someone he was with was distressed.
It had made Reese jealous sometimes. She loved to help people too, but he always connected with them on a deep and personal level that eluded Reese. Maybe it was her more forthright manner.
Back in high school, when his family had volunteered at the local hospital on Christmas Eve and invited her to come with them, it had been Jem who had put the children at ease and gotten them to talk. Reese had tried, but the kids had been drawn to him. Volunteering every summer at the local library might have helped. He had read to the kids and helped with the puppet program.
He now sat on one of the logs, careless of his fancy clothes. Two of the smaller children perched on his lap, and all of them were laughing. Reese’s heart gave a little twist.
Seeing him like this again showed her too plainly that she was still in love with him. She reminded herself what she had come to understand about him a few years ago. It had been during his senior year at college, and he’d had the lead role in a play. She, Kaitlyn, and Cyrus had gone to see it, and they’d waited outside for him afterward. Reese had overheard one of the cast members talking about Jem and saying he was “always on.”
It was then she’d realized how much that reminded her of the way her loser father had acted. Jem had hung out with any group he wanted to in high school because he could act the part they expected. He made himself fit in with them. Had she ever seen just Jem? When she had made that observation to her cynical mother, she had said with a bitter tone, “Will the real Jem Taylor please stand up?”
“Begging your pardon, miss, I hope you don’t mind me saying,” Mary said, pulling Reese from her memories about Jem, “but I believe your cousin will make a good father someday.”
“I don’t mind at all. He could be a good father.” Unless he decided his career was more important than his family. Reese pulled her attention away from him and glanced again at the beautiful embroidery work on the woman’s collar. “Do you take on work, Mary? I’d like to commission you to do some embroidery work for me. Nothing big, maybe a handkerchief.”
“Me, miss?”
“Yes. You do lovely work.” Reese scanned the trim little village. “Since my cousin has decided to entertain the children, would you mind giving me a tour?”
“I beg pardon, miss.” Mary knit her brows.
“I’m sorry.” Reese patted her arm. “We Americans say things differently than you’re used to. I wondered if you might show me around and explain what your day is like.”
“Oh, aye, miss.” Mary curtsied. “T’would be an honor.”
They strolled down the street while the seamstress gave an animated and detailed explanation of each cottage and its occupants. Reese appreciated some of the rather astute observations the woman made about the people. In a different time, Mary would have made a fine mayor or village elder.
A part of Reese’s mind still tuned into what Jem was doing with the children. Every time he made them laugh, she smiled. Walter stayed a few paces behind Reese, close enough to hear and perhaps shut her down if she said the wrong thing. Evidently, Jem could be trusted on his own, but she could not.
“Do you have many servants, miss?” Mary asked when they reached the last of the homes.
“We’re fortunate to have good help.” Reese felt like a liar, but she had no idea how to explain that machines did most of the work.
“Cousin,” Jem called, “are you ready to return to Aunt Nellie’s?”
“Yes,” Reese called and then said to Mary, “Thank you for taking time from your busy schedule to show me around. Are you willing to do the needlework for me? How much do you charge?”
“Oh, miss, I would be happy to do it for you, no cost.”
“I won’t ask you to take time away from your family without compensating you.” Reese shot Walter a look, hoping he would step in. He did.
“Just set the same fee as for your fancy work, Mary,” he said.
“Do you need anything from me in advance?” Reese asked.
“Oh, no, miss.” She curtsied. “Thank you.”
Jem, with Ellen on his arm, joined them. He held out his other arm to Reese. She took it, trying not to think too much about how happy Ellen looked to be there. Reese waved to the children who followed them to the horses.
“I never got a chance to talk to the kids,” she said once they were riding away again.
“I’m sure you will,” Jem said. “We can come back another time.”
***
Jem woke with a start. The house had been completely silent. He listened again, wondering what might have woken him. The valet slept in a small room adjoining Jem’s, but the only sound was the man’s slow breathing.
Then a creak sounded in the hallway outside his door, followed by light footsteps. Jem sat upright in the bed. It was early morning, even for the servants, and who among them would be sneaking around?
Curious, Jem quickly dressed and pulled on his boots. He tiptoed to the door and eased it open, listening. It sounded like the footsteps were on the stairs, going slowly in the dark, so he went that way too.
When he reached the top of the landing, he saw the front door open and a dark figure slip out. Who was sneaking out at this hour of the morning? The shadow closed the door, and Jem hurried down the stairs as quietly as he could. He paused at the entrance and pulled back a little curtain from the window by the door.
The full moon gave a feminine shape to the shadow, so she must be wearing some kind of formfitting clothing. He hurried over to the door and gently turned the knob. It had been a long time since he’d had to sneak out of a house.
By the time he’d made his clandestine escape, he was afraid he had missed her. Then a shadow moved near an archway that led into the garden. Gotcha.
Jem jogged lightly, grateful that his shoes were quiet on the soft grass. The figure ahead no longer seemed concerned about discovery because she opened the shutters of a lantern to light her way and strode toward a large flat expanse of lawn where Nellie would hold her picnic on Saturday.
He knew that stride. Reese had been complaining when they rode that morning that she needed more exercise than she was getting on a horse. It was no surprise that she would head for an open place, probably to do some of her martial arts and k
ickboxing.
Kaitlyn had once talked him into trying out a kickboxing class together, and he had been impressed with the intensity of the ladies in it. It’d been too much for his sister. She had said she would rather do something less physically demanding for her exercise.
When Reese began stretching, he debated leaving, but he didn’t want to. If he stayed, he’d need to announce himself, or she’d be angry that he’d watched her without her knowing about it.
Jem coughed, and she whirled around to face him, taking on a martial arts defensive stance.
“Sorry.” He held up his hands. “It’s just me. Jem. I didn’t mean to startle you, but I wanted to let you know I was here.”
“What are you doing out here?” She straightened. “Spying on me?”
“No, I’m not spying on you.” He put his hands in his pockets and strolled toward her. “I heard somebody sneaking out of the house and decided to find out who it was.”
“Well?” She crossed her arms.
“Well, what?” Jem stopped, waiting for her answer. He really hoped she wouldn’t send him away.
“I don’t like an audience, so if you’re going to stay, you’ll have to work out too.”
“Okay.” Any reason to spend more time with her.
Reese pointed to his boots. “You better take those off, or you might trip.”
Jem did as she instructed and went to work on removing his boots. He hadn’t had to take them off by himself before, and the excellent fit made it hard.
“You need some help there?” she finally asked, a touch of humor in her voice.
“I guess I should have brought my valet.”
Reese burst out laughing. “Oh, Jem. They’re turning you into one of those helpless, spoiled rich guys.” She signaled for him to lift his leg. He took a couple of steps back so he could lean against a tree and lifted a leg. With some effort from both of them, she got it off. They repeated the process with the other boot.
The ground was damp, but it wasn’t too bad.
“Let’s do this then.” She went into what he guessed were her kickboxing moves. First, she did some punches to the sides, then she shifted to a squat-like movement that resembled a deep curtsy. No wonder she did them so well.
Against the Magic (Twickenham Time Travel Romance) Page 8