Lord Bachelor

by Tammy L. Bailey

  ****

  Abby lay nestled against Raify’s side, a low fire dancing over the dark antique furnishings. Abby had only visited Raify’s place on two occasions—after her father died, and now.

  “I should never have stayed in this long,” Abby sniffed, wishing she could return to the narrowed path she’d been traveling before tripping over Edmund.

  “You must not waste your time on should haves, dear,” Raify said, giving Abby’s arm an affectionate pat. “Once a decision has been made, you must allow it to run its course.”

  Abby swallowed the lump of despair lodged in her throat. Here she was, agonizing over Edmund while he was out shagging, or romping—or whatever he called it—one of his potential brides.

  “Oh, Raify, you always have an answer for everything.”

  The woman laughed and then sighed. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you discover that everything is nothing more than a series of little things pressed together over time.”

  Abby wondered if she’d ever get used to the woman’s whimsical answers to all of her problems. “I should be reading, but I left my book at the shop. I’m so far behind on Jane Eyre.”

  Raify clicked her tongue and swatted the air. “Then allow me to engage you. What chapter?”

  “Sixteen,” Abby said, her eyes growing heavy in the warmth of the room, her gaze staring at the dancing firelight.

  There was a pause before Raify spoke again. “‘It does good to no woman to be flattered by her superior, who cannot possibly intend to marry her; and it is madness in all women to let a secret love kindle within them, which, if not returned and unknown, must devour the life that feeds it; and, if discovered and responded to, must lead, ignis fatuus-like, into miry wilds whence there is no extrication.’”

  Abby blinked back her tears, feeling sorry for herself and for Jane. At this point, she was almost afraid to read the rest of the book.

  The next day, however, determined not to bury her head in her despair, she charged through the morning by putting the shop back together again. With Raify’s help, they visited the police department and her insurance company, finding that her policy would cover all the damage with only a fifty-dollar deductible. Then, Tommy came by to replace the door and Raify stayed to help stack some albums that had just arrived. The place looked almost normal, except for the empty wall next to the stairs.

  “So, have you heard anything from his lordship?” Tommy asked, his lip still swollen from where Edmund had split it open.

  “So, have you thought about drinking a margarita from a salted glass?” she said, every word dripping sarcasm.

  He straightened to his full height, intimidating if she didn’t know him, and crossed the floor in her direction. When he stopped, she had to crane her neck to peer up at him.

  “What, Tommy? And don’t say, ‘I’m worried about you.’”

  “But, I am worried about you. Raify’s worried about you. We think you need to reconsider going with Edmund, when it’s your turn.”

  Abby wanted to collapse in the nearest chair and drop her head into her hands. She’d been unable to think of anything else. Edmund. His preliminary honeymoons. Edmund with three other women on his preliminary honeymoons. She’d even stayed up most of the night, waiting for the phone to ring so he could tell her he was having a miserable time.

  “Let me take you to Rainer National Park. Raify can watch the shop.”

  Abby shook her head. “But I can’t get good cell phone reception out…there—”

  She stopped talking as a scowl drew across Tommy’s dark features. He was only trying to protect her, and she was grateful, but this time she didn’t want anyone shielding her from the unknown. She knew she had to make up her mind, at least about something, no matter if it hurt like hell. She wanted to step out of her small world. She wanted to feel what it would be like with Edmund, every moment, no matter if it lasted seven days or seventy years.

  “I’m going…with him,” she said, determined not to change her mind between now and then.

  Tommy dropped his chin to his chest in defeat. “All right, Abby. It’s your life to live and your heart that will break, I suppose.”

  Her hands flashed to her hips, ready to scold him like a mother would a child. “Why is it that I suffer a broken heart and not him? Tell me,” she said, intense emotions forcing her voice higher.

  “Why? Because a man like Lord Edmund Rushwood is incapable of loving anyone but himself.”

  “You’re wrong,” she said, but her voice broke as she feared his words might be true. She didn’t want to cry. She’d shed enough tears in the last twenty-four hours. Tommy, in his gentle giant way, pulled her to him. Her nose pressed into the hardness of his middle chest as she released another floodgate of tears.

  Tommy exhaled, stroking her hair and bending to lay an affectionate kiss upon the crown of her head. He left soon after, without incident, without a word.

  On Sunday morning, Raify dropped by to pull her away from the shop. For the sake of avoiding the latest bus billboard with Zella’s airbrushed face and the caption, “Is this the future Lady Rushwood?” in bold burgundy letters, Abby decided to walk with her friend to the nearest café that wouldn’t remind her of Edmund.

  Unfortunately, Abby hadn’t had much of an appetite since his departure, the smell of lunch meat and pastries only making her more nauseated. Raify, who herself ate like a bird, purchased only a cranberry scone with tea.

  “You must eat, dear,” she reminded Abby.

  “You sound like Edmund.”

  The woman smiled and took an elegant sip of her tea. “Speaking of Edmund, have you heard anything from him?”

  Abby’s stomach flopped, causing her to wish she’d never brought up the subject. Since her talk with Tommy, and having heard nothing from Edmund, her bravado regarding her decision to go with him on their ‘honeymoon’, had started to wane. “No. Perhaps he’s been too busy searching the Internet for a house in Paris.”

  “Perhaps,” Raify echoed.

  Abby huffed. “I was being cynical.”

  Raify shrugged, taking a delicate nibble of her scone. “Cynicism is healthy, naïveté is not.”

  “I suppose,” Abby said. “So I shouldn’t think that Edmund had a horrible time with Courtney and kicked her out after only three minutes with her?”

  Raify reached over and tapped the top of Abby’s hand. “That’s right, dear. It’s best to believe he’s a man.”

  Between Tommy’s and Raify’s love advice, Abby wanted to scream. “Do you mind if we talk about something or someone else?”

  “Yes, of course.” Raify paused for a moment before pursing her lips together. “Oh, dear.”

  “What?” Abby stared at the woman’s large eyes as they fixed on a spot over Abby’s right shoulder.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  When Abby turned, she wished she had just stayed home. Courtney, along with another pretty woman, stood close-by, waiting for whatever they’d ordered at the busy counter.

  “I just know you and Edmund belong together, Courtney. You are so beautiful, and after the night you and Edmund had together, you just have to be the one the audience will choose.”

  “I know, right?”

  Abby cringed at the whine of bride number two’s unmistakable voice.

  “Details, Court. I want all the details. I bet it was straight out of a romance novel. God, I’m so jealous.”

  Abby lifted her fingers to shield her face, trying to play a song in her head to keep from hearing the woman’s detailed answer. She searched her recent memory, finding “Going to the Chapel” readily available.

  “You should be,” Courtney said, her voice louder than before. “He was, like, so awesome and everything. He even mentioned me meeting his parents in Paris very soon.”

  “Paris? You have to take me with you,” crooned Courtney’s loquacious friend.

  “Absolutely not! We intend to be nude the entire time, so that would just be…awkward.”


  The conversation ended as the cashier called out their drinks and they shuffled away. Abby’s heart beat like a bass drum and her hands shook so badly she had to hide them under the table.

  “Do not believe her exaggeration, Abby,” Raify said. “You must wait and hear Edmund’s account before drawing any conclusions about what happened.”

  Abby felt her head spin. “Didn’t you just tell me to not to do that?” When Raify opened her mouth to explain, Abby held out her hands, palms out. She loved Raify, but sometimes having a talk with the woman reminded her of a flock of birds changing course in mid-air. One minute she was rooting against Team Edmund, and the next, cheering him on. “Can we just go?”

  Her friend folded her scone in a napkin and placed it inside her vintage black leather handbag.

  Forced to keep the shop open, Abby endured the steady flow of pretend shoppers, most of them women asking after Edmund. A few hours later, her resolve broke like a stick dam in a torrential rainstorm when Kendra popped in to tell how she’d heard from her daughter. The woman’s enthusiasm fizzed and popped right in front of Abby.

  “Zella sent me some pictures of her and Edmund in their honeymoon suite. Would you like to see them, Abs?” The woman wiggled her iPhone before Abby’s face, her glossy fingernail hindering the romantic view.

  “I think I’ll pass.”

  Kendra brought the phone back, clicking past a few more pictures, ahhing and oohing until she started to drool. “They make such a perrrrfect couple. Ah, they look so much in love.”

  Unable to stop herself, Abby fired back. “Love? Do you think that’s what Lord Edmund Rushwood is looking for? If you believe that, then I have half of a record shop I’d like to sell you.”

  “And do you think you have a chance in hell of becoming his bride, Abby? He is a lord, and you are a…shopkeeper.”

  “Wow, that’s clever, Kendra. How long did it take you to think of that response?”

  The woman’s beady eyes narrowed, causing the wrinkles on her face to deepen. “You think you have your claws in him, but I have news for you—men like him are never really captured.”

  “Captured? He’s not an animal.”

  “All men are animals.”

  With those words, the woman swung around and strode out of the shop’s brand new door. Rattled by their conversation, Abby settled on closing early. She didn’t care if her drawer was nine hundred dollars short this week. She just wanted to sink into her bath and forget for a moment she was in love with a man with the reputation of a rutting bull.

  Five days behind on her reading, she decided to bring Jane Eyre into the bath with her. She flipped through the pages, imagining Edmund reading the ageless words to her in his silky voice. Of course, her stomach somersaulted, reminding her of how much she missed him.

  “Damn,” she cursed and forced herself to turn to the earmarked page, reading the first paragraph that popped out at her.

  “I was growing very lenient to my master: I was forgetting all his faults, for which I had once kept a sharp look-out. It had formerly been my endeavour to study all sides of his character: to take the bad with the good; and from the just weighing of both, to form an equitable judgment. Now I saw no bad.”

  “Poor us,” Abby mumbled, unable to delete her conversations with Tommy, Raify, or Kendra from her mind. Exhausted from very little sleep and constant thoughts of Edmund, Abby held onto the book, dangling it over the edge of the tub. Despite reservations regarding his character, her heart still clung to the notion of this perfectness about him.

  The tepid water sloshed around her as she brought the volume up to read again, the words blurring, their meaning becoming so convoluted with Jane’s, she didn’t know who she felt more sorry for—Jane or herself.

  Simple and poor, Charlotte Bronte’s heroine had trudged on her life’s path, enduring every obstacle with grace and courage. She knew what she wanted and tried to pursue it to the best of her ability and nature. Abby realized that having dreams didn’t always entail shooting for the stars. All poor Jane wanted was to be seen as an equal.

  For the first time, Abby tried to think of what she wanted besides a record shop with plenty of albums sitting around collecting dust. Maybe, once in her adult life, she wanted to have her own dreams and for someone to take care of her. The second part of what she wanted was a centuries-old concept where women relied heavily on someone else to give them shelter, and love, if they were lucky. She had been so independent for so long, it was hard to admit she wanted the same things as both Lizzy and Jane.

  Then her mind turned to her parents. What they had was magical: a mutual affection and constant adoration that just happened to be tucked inside a shop surrounded by brick and mortar. As she allowed herself to think of a future without the place, she slipped out of the bath and into a pair of gray cut-off sweatpants and a lace white vee-neck T-shirt. She decided to go straight to bed, sliding under the covers to stare at the ceiling. The day had faded, and so did her energy.

  She didn’t want to think about being with Edmund, especially after hearing Courtney brag about being with him…intimately. Instead, Abby attempted to squeeze her eyes shut to keep from imagining them together when she heard the door to her shop swing open.

  Oh, God. Not another break-in. She had nothing else worth a few dollars. With her heart in her throat, she flew off the bed, grasping the closest object that would inflict the most harm. For a moment, she remained frozen in place until footsteps on the stairway caused her to stumble back.

  Were the thieves back? “Whoever you are,” she called, her voice shaking, “I have to let you know, I am armed.” She glanced down at the dull potato peeler and rolled her eyes.

  “Where is he?” came the rough feminine voice, full of ire and intolerance.

  “Kendra?”

  The woman rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, fury blazing in her bloodshot eyes. “Where is he?” she repeated, her high heels clomping across the hardwood floor.

  “Where is who?” Abby asked, trying to catch her breath.

  “Edmund!”

  Abby stammered. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Kendra didn’t give Abby much time to defend herself as she reached back and slapped Abby hard across her right cheek. Abby braced a palm where it felt like a thousand needles were puncturing her skin at the same time.

  “You were always a shameful little girl, and you still are today. And let me tell you, you’re in for a rude awakening if you think you have a single chance with Edmund. He knows good breeding, and you’re not it.”

  Tears stung Abby’s eyes, not for the pain the woman had inflicted, but the possible truth behind her words. Her spirit beaten, Abby grabbed at the necklace around her neck.

  “Good or bad, Kendra,” Abby said, bracing herself for another blow, “dignity and integrity are two things Zella will never have.”

  As she expected, Kendra raised her arm again when a voice rattled the room from a few feet away.

  “I would think very hard upon your next move, madam.”

  Kendra reeled back as Abby glanced up, the sight of Edmund’s authoritative and virile stance sending her head spinning. He was divinely handsome; more so, she thought, than the last time she saw him. Like her, he appeared worn and restless, as if he hadn’t slept in days. It angered her immediately that his reason was more exertive than was hers.

  “Are you all right?” Edmund asked her, his lips pressed into a thin line.

  Unable to say a word, Abby nodded. His uncompromising form twisted back to Kendra, his mouth curling into a demonic smile. “You know, I think you just cost your daughter a chance at a title.”

  Kendra gasped. “Edmund…no. I only came because Zella said you left her…alone. I thought Abby had lured you here.”

  Edmund sauntered further into the room. “I assure you, your daughter is not alone. When I left her, she was neck deep in a chocolate bath with some guy named Roger.”

  “Roger?
”

  “Yes, I believe that was the name on his janitor’s badge.”

  “You’re lying!” Kendra screeched, her latte-stained teeth showing behind her snarled lips.

  ****

  Edmund shrugged, pulling out the phone he’d used to capture the precious moment. As the image of her daughter and a stranger became clear, Kendra wailed and slunk away sobbing, leaving him and Abby alone.

  Between his damnable honeymoons and this moment, Edmund had held his temper inside. Then, he’d seen Kendra’s hand lifted toward Abby, ready to strike. He sought to puncture Kendra’s superficial façade with words.

  He’d been honest. After only one hour with Zella, he’d grown incensed with her constant conversation that related to only what she wanted or required in life.

  “Are you all right?” he asked Abby a second time, trying hard to hold back his raw emotions.

  She nodded, the ends of her hair wetting her threadbare T-shirt to the point of transparency. She stepped toward him, and he raised his hand, halting her immediately. She stole his breath away, and he was insane to think he could see her again and not want her so badly.

  “I missed you,” she whispered.

  “Did you?” He started to walk around her, slow and reticent, as her gaze followed his every move.

  Her head tilted, her eyes blinking at a curious quickness. “Yes.”

  “Hmmm,” he responded, halting close enough to smell the sweet fragrance of her skin.

  “Probably not as much as I’ve missed you, though.” His hands ached to touch her. He curled his fingers inside his palm, trying to tamp down his arousal that had been building steadily and left suppressed for so long.

  She exhaled, pulling her shoulders back on an unconscious impulse and sending a searing bolt of lust piercing his already tense body. He forced his gaze from her breasts to her enchanting face.

  “You have no idea what I have endured,” he said, giving in to the urge to lift a calculating hand to the curve of her soft face.

  “You?” She reared back. “At least you didn’t have to hear Courtney’s enthusiastic chat about your lovemaking and how you were taking her to Paris to meet your parents.”