Chapter 20
Maybe Erva was acting a bit like a teenager, but she’d had a feeling Winny would be attending tea. So she happened to extract herself from the carriage, Will right behind her, with her lips red and raw from making out with him who also happened to have a slightly swollen mouth. Miss Winny took one look at the two of them, her face turning fuchsia, then stormed off with her two little friends chattering behind her.
God, that felt ridiculously good.
Yeah, it had been very high school of her to do, and she had to remind herself that she was a college professor after all. Well, almost. She needed to have a serious talk with Dr. Peabody when she got back. She’d sit her down and let the bitch have it—all those years of working her ass off and she didn’t even have her PhD to show for it.
Erva tripped a little as she realized what she had been thinking. Will caught her immediately. They stood a tad outside the open doors of the largest mansion Erva had ever seen, with servants dressed better than most of the people on the streets. The manicured yard was amazing, of course, and the house itself was—well, it was fabulous with marble pillars and climbing green ivy and wide-open windows letting the late summer’s heat infiltrate to all inside. She heard music and the rumbling of people talking and laughing. This was supposed to be tea, but it was more like a party.
“Are you well, darling?” Will asked with his voice more rugged than usual. His blue eyes bore into hers with noticeable desire. She loved the way he held onto her, peeking down at her breasts.
Her body instantly rekindled the fire that had been lit in the carriage. Remembering what he’d done to her last night, instantly flashed through her mind. Her center stirred. Again. God, she seemed insatiable concerning him.
She nodded. But as much as her body ached for him, worry superseded. Did he think he should marry her, like an eighteenth-century gentleman would?
“Lady Ferguson, how nice to see you here,” the too high-pitched voice of Winny said.
She turned, surprised to see the girl and her two friends back so soon. Erva had to give Winny credit. The girl was tenacious, albeit in a nasty-like-a-rabid-Chihuahua way.
Erva curtsied toward Winny as she felt Will bow beside her.
“Thank you, Miss Winny. It’s nice to see you too.” The lie hadn’t been too hard to say. After all, even through her anxieties, when Erva was around Will it was difficult to not be chipper and probably unbearably happy.
Winny curtsied herself, then beamed at her, which was, of course, a bit disconcerting. “Won’t you come inside? Lady Anne has been talking about you all afternoon. She wants you to play more music. But she also wants you to meet some of her other guests.”
One of the girls behind Winny abruptly burst out in a nervous neigh that might have been a chuckle. Winny stared her down. Her eyes narrowed cruelly. Erva couldn’t help but feel sorry for the girl receiving the cold shoulder from Winny.
“Of course,” Erva said with a smile. “Thank you. Won’t you lead the way?”
Winny caught a fan strung around her wrist, then, with a too perfected move, fluttered the white feathered fan into a wide semicircle. She hid her mouth behind the fan, but said, “It would be my pleasure.”
As Winny wound her way through the house, she looked back at Will. “Oh, and good afternoon, General.”
“The same to you, Miss Winny, and to all your friends too.”
Winny’s cronies tittered as if Will had said he was naked.
Suddenly, Lady Anne appeared and rushed to Erva, hugging her as if she were a long-lost daughter.
“My dear, I’m so delighted you have come,” Lady Anne said as she whirled Erva about and showed her into a room with a pianoforte and a few guests sitting on tiny chairs, sipping from teacups, although the room smelled strongly of whiskey.
“Thank you, my lady,” Erva said, wondering slightly about the vice grip Lady Anne had on her wrist.
“Sit with an old woman for a spell. I want to know everything about you.”
With more force than Erva thought the woman could muster, Lady Anne shoved her on a couch and sat beside her. Will stood before them, looking a little surprised, but then rocked back on the heels of his black boots with a small smile.
Erva couldn’t help but return a grin, then glanced back at her host. Oh God, what could she tell her?
“Well, what would you like to know, my lady?”
“Anne, call me Anne, please. Unless you think it too informal, of course. I’m sorry for my impropriety, but your music has stirred my soul, my dear. I’m simply in love with you and your music.”
Erva giggled.
“Have you been composing very long?”
Erva sucked in a breath, thinking of the Beethoven melody she had played. She wished she could take credit for that. Shaking her head, she said, “No, none of the music I play is of my own making.”
“Wherever did you learn such music?”
“I was wondering the same thing,” Will chipped in.
Erva thought quickly. “Well, the music I first played I learned from an American by the name of Mr. Elfman.”
“I’ve never heard of him.”
Erva tried not to laugh. The lady wouldn’t have heard of him, since he lived more than two hundred years in the future. “Oh, well, you might soon.” Erva folded her hands together, already feeling guilty as she told her lies. “And the other is from a composer. Prussian, I believe. Or is he Austrian? I always forget.”
“Ah,” Lady Anne’s eyes widened. “I’ve never been to the Prussian Empire. Is it lovely?”
Erva nodded, thinking of the modern day, federal parliamentary government of Germany. “There are no words to describe it.” At least none that she could share with Lady Anne, she thought.
Lady Anne nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, now I have to go. Will you go with me? Of course, we’ll take General Hill with us.”
Erva couldn’t help but giggle up at Will who smiled down at her. That grin, the way his eyes seemed to stare only into hers, his whole attention given to her, it was enough to think he was serious about wanting to marry her. Then again eighteenth-century rules practically dictated they were supposed to wed after what they’d done last night.
Unless it was just an affair.
As if attracted to Erva’s dark thought, Winny floated into the room. Lady Anne straightened and turned more pointedly to Erva.
“My lady—”
“Erva, please.”
Lady Anne smiled widely. “Erva, my dear, would—would you care for some tea?”
Iced tea sounded delightful, Erva thought, since the room was nearly a thousand degrees. And there was something so genuine about Lady Anne that Erva couldn’t say no to such an eager face. “I’ll have some if you do.”
“Lovely. Now, help me up to see if I can find one of my maids.”
“I’ll get you the tea.” But the horrified look upon the elderly lady’s face let Erva know that wasn’t acceptable. “Er, I mean, I’ll go find a maid. Please, continue sitting.”
Erva stood as Lady Anne smiled appreciatively. “You are an angel, my dear. And after we share our tea and talk more, I will, of course, insist you play for me.”
Erva curtsied, something that was becoming easier and easier to do. “It would be my pleasure, Anne.”
Lady Anne giggled like a schoolgirl at the use of her Christian name, which made Erva grin again. She couldn’t help it. Even with Winny circling the room with her little minions behind, as if they were sharks in a tank, Erva couldn’t help but feel carefree and loved.
Whoa, where had that thought come from? Loved?
She glanced at Will, still smiling down at her.
“Would you care for some tea too, b—” She stopped herself from saying anything more, almost calling him baby. It was a term of endearment that she wasn’t sure would be in Will’s vocabulary. She hadn’t even realized it was in hers. Unsteadily, she said, “Would you care for tea, Will—the—er—General?”
Will noiselessly chuckled and nodded. “Yes, please.”
“Keep Lady Anne company for me, will you?”
Will looked down at Anne with an easy smile. “It would be my honor, darling.”
She blinked at the word, then peeked at Lady Anne who appeared to be bursting at the seams with a giant smile. The lady even clapped tiny, almost soundless applause, which made Erva chuckle all the more. Before she got too lost in the moment, Erva left to hunt down a maid.
The quest hadn’t lasted long because there was a maid a few paces from the entrance of the room. Erva asked for some tea for herself, Lady Anne, and General Hill, and the maid bowed very low in her black-and-white uniform, never uttering a word, and turned quickly and returned with a silver tray full of little cakes, teacups, sugar, cream, a teapot, and a small pitcher filled with what mouth-wateringly looked like cool water.
Erva followed the maid back into the room, and saw Lady Anne still on the couch, but standing before her was Miss Winny and her friends. Glancing around the chamber, Erva wondered where Will had gone.
“My dear,” Lady Anne said, her voice lowered and wispy, almost nervous. “Erva, I believe you’ve made the acquaintance of Miss Winny. She is from the Devon’s family, arriving in the colony of New York more than a hundred years ago.”
Lady Anne reached out for Erva’s hands, and upon taking them pulled her back down on the couch forcefully. From her periphery Erva noticed the maid assembling the tea on a nearby table then leaving without so much as a word.
“Yes,” Winny said. “Lady Ferguson and I have known each other for eons, Lady Anne.”
Erva glanced up at Winny, feeling as if something was out of proportion and wondering about the odd exaggeration. Still, she tried to focus on the conversation Lady Anne had started. “Fascinating.” Then turning to Winny, Erva said, “Your family’s been here in New York for quite a while then.”
Winny nodded condescendingly. “Yes, we were one of the first families to live here, of course. The Devon’s are related to King Charles I, you know.”
Lady Anne laughed loudly. “Miss Winny, I never expected the likes of you to talk about the topic of bastards at tea.”
Winny’s face turned again an ugly color close to a bright flamingo. Erva could guess at how Lady Anne, whether intentionally or not, had just insulted her. At that Erva, for the first time, felt sorry for the girl who was trying so hard.
“Oh, who doesn’t have a few bastards in the family?” Erva said, hoping to relieve Winny from the intense color in her cheeks.
Lady Anne roared with another laugh. “Very true, Lady Ferguson. Very true.”
Winny turned toward Erva. Her eyes deviously dark and narrowed. That wasn’t the reaction Erva had hoped for.
“Lady Ferguson.” Winny arched a dark brow, then tried with her fingers to align it with the other. “I don’t think you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Miss Emma and Miss Lydia, have you?”
Erva felt her lips descend into a frown. She usually tried to censor her reactions, especially in front of someone like Winny. But when hearing those two names, she couldn’t hide from the pain and shock that tore through her.
“Miss Winny—” Lady Anne said reprovingly.
“Yes, I think it quite time you met them,” Winny said, ignoring the lady. “Don’t you, my lady?” She said Erva’s title as if she’d called her a bitch instead.
“You discourteous trollop,” Lady Anne hissed.
Winny glanced at Lady Anne, her eyes wide and shocked. It was an act. Winny was playing at some awful game. And winning.
“Why, Lady Anne, I am no such thing. I am a good and loyal friend to the pretty Lady Ferguson. I only wish to serve her. Would it be wrong of me to tell the lady that General Hill is in the room next to this with his two mistresses?”
“Churlish girl, shut your mouth.” Lady Anne’s voice dropped and hollowed, making her sound remarkably threatening.
Winny appeared unfazed. She kept her crocodile smile aimed right at Erva.
Standing, Erva stared at the doorway Winny had indicated. Lady Anne tugged at her hand, holding it tight.
“Dear, dear Lady Ferguson, don’t,” Lady Anne whispered.
Erva locked eyes with the elderly lady, whose warm brown eyes shone back only sympathy.
“It won’t come to any good, sweet Erva.”
It was such an odd moment, but the way Lady Anne looked at her, held her, and seemed so attentive to her, well, it broke Erva’s heart. She thought of her own mother who wouldn’t have cared if Will was in a room with his two mistresses. Her mother wouldn’t have cared how much Erva had grown to like Will. Oh, hell, she wondered if it were possible to fall in love with the guy this quickly.
But not when he had two mistresses in the room next door.
She swooped down and hugged Lady Anne quickly. When standing, still holding onto Anne’s hands, tears blurred Erva’s vision. “You’re so good to me.”
Lady Anne blinked, sudden moisture in her own eyes. “You are an angel, my dear.”
A tear escaped down Erva’s cheek. It felt so good to have a woman say that. A nurturing, kind woman. Although it was an odd moment to think such things, she knew she should give herself the acceptance she craved.
With that tiny glimpse at clarity, Erva turned back to the door, catching sight of a sneering Winny. Looking one more time at Lady Anne, she shrugged. “I have to see for myself.”
The lady closed her eyes, but released her hold on Erva. She nodded, and Erva walked toward the door, slightly hearing the cruel giggles of the girls behind her.
Well, Erva thought, she had wanted answers. And this was one hell of a way to get them.
Unlatching the door quietly, she snuck into the silent room. It was a library of some kind with floor-to-ceiling shelves full of leather-bound books. It was also dark, none of the windows open, making it seem too hot and musky. At first, Erva didn’t see the three figures, but then she heard a woman’s soft whisper. They stood with their backs to her. Thank God, they were all dressed and not touching. Otherwise, she might kill someone. When Erva’s eyes adjusted she saw them standing like a triangle, as, Erva thought, what they were rumored to be—a love triangle. They leaned close together, whispering something.
Will softly whacked something small and rectangular against his leg, then held it up. Erva crept closer to hear him say, “I don’t have much money on my person, but I’ll go get more.”
Oh God. Oh no. Money was exchanged?
Her blood cooled then froze, making everything in her body hurt. She slapped her hand across her mouth to stop herself from screaming, but she may as well have. The smack to her lips was loud enough that all three turned to her.
“Erva,” Will whispered. He held his billfold in front of his flat stomach, open and showing several pound notes.
They were beautiful, Erva noticed, his mistresses. One of the women was tall, with dark hair and strikingly blue eyes, and the other was a honey blonde with vivid green eyes, staring at her with open shock.
“Lady Ferguson.” The dark-haired young woman curtsied.
The other stood still, her mouth a little ajar.
Erva wanted to run, just run from this moment, this reality. It hurt so much.
She took a step back, but Will rushed to her saying again her name, “Erva...”
“Lady Ferguson, please don’t go,” the dark-haired girl said.
Erva took another step back, but Will lunged for her, letting his billfold fall to the ground. “Please, Erva, I want you to meet someone.”
The craziness of the moment, of those simple words, as if it was acceptable to meet his mistresses, finally hit her. Hard. The only reason he might think it was okay to meet his mistresses was if he wanted to add her to his harem. Erva almost doubled over from her breathlessness and the etching pain in her stomach and heart.
In another life, her life, she had run away. When she’d caught her husband. Rather than yell and
scream, Erva had run after she’d walked in on her husband and her own TA disrobing each other in her office. She hadn’t confronted either of them, and had simply asked the dean for another office, even a closet, if that’s all they had. She hadn’t said a word to anyone for months, until Cliff served her with the divorce papers. Then she’d called Ben who had come so close to losing his temper when she’d told him about the affair and about running away. In a heartbeat he’d calmed and said, “Sweetie, you know I love you, so I’m saying this with all the love and affection I have for you, but it’s time you start standing up for yourself.”
Yes, it was time.
Erva turned to Will, anger pounding through her aching body. She smacked his iron-like chest. “Meet someone? Meet someone? Meet your mistresses?”
“Oh, she’s heard that rumor,” the blonde said, her voice low and husky.
Erva pivoted to meet the girl’s eyes. At least the blonde had the decency to look down to the floor.
“It’s not true,” the dark-haired woman said, taking a tentative step closer to Will and Erva. She held her hands out, as if trying to tame a wild horse.
Well, Erva felt about as crazed as a bucking bronco. She huffed and looked at Will, smacking him again, this time on the shoulder. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Will opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He kept shaking his head.
The dark-haired girl took a few more steps closer, but when Erva turned to her, she halted, her hands raised again. “Will—”
“She calls you Will? You’re on a first name basis, then, hmm?” Erva demanded.
Will blinked.
“Yes,” said the brunette, taking another careful step closer to Erva, extending a hand to her. “Yes, I do.”
Erva wouldn’t shake the hand offered, but looked at Will again. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”
He shook his head and kept opening his mouth, but no words came out.
The dark-haired woman—oh, she was so pretty up close with those intense blue eyes—took one last step closer to Erva and touched her shoulder. “Because, as Will has said to me over and over, it isn’t his place to tell. He thinks it isn’t his place to tell, I should say.”
Erva stared down at the hand on her shoulder, wishing for laser vision. Well, she didn’t exactly want to hurt the girl, just shock her into not touching her.
She kept talking though. “Lady Ferguson, I am Miss Emma Beaumont,” she swallowed and smiled slowly, “Will’s sister.”
Erva’s stomach hollowed then pitched uncomfortably. She was worried she might vomit. But, wait—the girl, Emma, had said sister?
“Half sister, I should say,” Emma said with a shy smile.
“My father...” Will grimaced, looked at the ceiling, and then back at Emma. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said as much.”
Emma ruefully chuckled. “Will, you have a right to convey who I am. I can’t believe you didn’t tell her before now.”
“I told him he should have,” said the blonde, who apparently was Miss Lydia.
Will shook his head. “No, I don’t believe—”
Emma interrupted with another giggle. “My honorable brother tries to save me from people calling me a bastard, but I know what I am. I’ve known all along, while my handsome brother knew nothing about me until a few months ago.”
Erva looked at Will, who nodded. And then all the cogs fit into place and turned. Will’s will and testament gave so much money to Miss Emma because she was his sister. Only, because Will’s father hadn’t married Emma’s mother, Emma was illegitimate, which meant in this moment in time Will didn’t have to acknowledge her at all. But he did. He was trying to give her money, the way a big brother would.
God, tears sprang to Erva’s eyes. Again! What was up with the waterworks?
The cynical side of her also leaped into action before she could stop herself. “It’s true? Miss Emma is your sister?”
Will nodded and smiled. “Can you believe I have a lovely little sister?”
Then, Erva saw their resemblance—the hair, the eyes, Emma even had a tiny cleft in her chin like Will.
“My brother wouldn’t say anything of it, because he tries so hard to protect me already, but our father met my mother during the Seven Years’ War. He was stationed here in New York, and my mother was quite infected with red fever, so shortly after I was conceived. My mother married another man, a nice enough man who was a father to me, but my mother always talked about my real father, a red-coated officer who was an earl, no less.”
“I was the one who thought Emma should meet her brother when we heard news of his arrival here in New York,” the blonde interjected, walking closer, giving Emma a cold look for a second, but then shifted to a small smile.
Emma beamed at her. “Yes, you did.” She turned back to Erva. “I suppose I was too scared to reach out to Will, too afraid he’d call me a liar. But eventually, thanks to Lydia, I summoned the courage to meet him.”
“I would have never let him call you a liar,” Miss Lydia said, then held Emma’s hand.
Emma smiled, her cheeks turning a delicate pink. “No, I suppose not.”
“Why, look at them, Lady Ferguson.” Miss Lydia instructed. “They are spitting images of each other, are they not?”
The more Erva looked, the more she saw how similar Emma was to Will in height, complexion, and the sweet shyness they both possessed.
“Except, of course, Emma is very pretty,” Miss Lydia said, her voice lowered.
Lydia and Emma stood very close, as if magnetized to the other. With a huff, realization set in. The way Lydia and Emma smiled at each other, the way they kept holding hands, the blush in Emma’s cheeks—they were lovers.
“You’re gay,” she blurted. Instantly, she chided herself for outing the young women and grimaced.
Lydia and Emma turned to her as one.
“I suppose we are,” Emma agreed. “It’s hard not to be happy when I have such a wonderful brother, and he is wonderful, Lady Ferguson. I’m so delighted for the both you. When I heard news of Will meeting a lady, a lady he’d taken a fancy to, I knew I had to do something, but what, I knew not. And then our hand was forced—”
Both Lydia and Will interrupted Emma. Lydia said, “Enough,” while Will actually stood between Emma and Erva, making her wonder all the more what on earth Emma was about to say. Or had already said.
“You—you’ve heard rumors about me?” Was the only question Erva could think of at that second.
Emma nodded and smiled around her big brother’s frame. “Aye,” she answered. “I know rumors can be false, but I hoped they were true, for I know my brother deserves love.”
Will closed his eyes for a brief moment, almost appearing to be wincing. That was when Emma snuck by and stole Erva’s hands into hers.
“He is a most noble man, always trying to take care of me. I’d forever wanted to know him while I was a child, and he’s exceeded all my expectations.”
“She’ll think I paid you to say as much,” Will said, which made both Erva and Emma chuckle.
Emma slightly pulled Erva closer. “Lydia thinks I need to restrain myself and not trust with all my heart, but I think I know your heart, Lady Ferguson—”
“Erva. Please call me Erva.”
Emma positively beamed then. “Now I know for certain. I will trust you with everything.”
Lydia rushed close and pulled one of Emma’s hands away. “No, she’s a stranger, Emma.”
Will’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed.
Emma spoke quickly before anyone could do anything else. “You’ve heard the sordid rumors about my brother and me and Lydia, that all three of us are lovers. Obviously, you know that to be false.”
“I do now,” Erva couldn’t help but say sing-songedly.
“Lydia was the first to think the rumors were a bright idea, but then Will agreed. I never did, for I have no fear of being called a bastard, Erva. Although I kn
ew the man who raised me not to be my father, he was a better man to me than...well, probably better to me than Will’s and my real father could have been. Forgive me, Will, for admitting as much.”
Will shrugged. “You speak the truth.” He took a deep breath. “Emma, I don’t know if Erva is—”
“Nonsense,” Emma said, “I see it in her eyes. She has a kind heart and already loves you much.”
Erva glanced down at the elegant parquet floor, too afraid to spy Will’s reaction, and yet she couldn’t disagree with what Emma had said.
“So, we let the rumors fly that we were lovers, that Will was of a sordid character, and myself and Lydia too, for that seemed better than the truth.” Emma shook her head. “But I never liked the idea, never felt right to lie, for the actuality is, Erva, I love Lydia the way you love Will.”
Erva glanced up and nodded, waiting for more. But Emma just stared at Erva, her blue eyes narrowed.
“Did you not hear me, my lady? I love Lydia.”
Erva nodded again. “Yes, I heard you. You love her. So?”
Will snorted an odd laugh. “Erva, my sister is confessing that she’s...in love with Lydia. They are...”
While Will searched for words Lydia said, “I love her very much.”
“Good,” Erva said with a smile. “I can tell she loves you just as much.” After a few moments passed where everyone stared at her as if she were growing antlers, Erva chuckled. “Are you expecting me to have some difficulty wrapping my head around the fact that Emma and Lydia are lovers?”
“Well, yes,” Will admitted. “I had to take a day or two to think things through.”
Erva shrugged and reached out for Lydia, so she held hands with both young women. “My best friend is gay, er, that’s what we call it. Um, I can’t think of what it’s called here, now.” She knew homosexuality was a term that was not yet defined.
Emma glanced at Will, asking a silent question.
“Erva’s lived for an extended period in Prussia,” he said.
“In Prussia are they accepting of...gay people?” Lydia asked cautiously.
Erva had a hard time suppressing from laughing, but the cold hard fact was she was in a time when homosexuality could be punished if caught. Emma and Lydia could be chained to scaffolds, branded, or even executed. Erva had read of such an execution of a British soldier when General Henry Clinton became commander in chief, which was still in two years’ time.
Erva found herself smiling ruefully. “I don’t think so, but one day I hope you’ll never live in fear.”
“That is my sentiment too,” Will said. He glanced down at Emma with a sad smile. “Please take more money, buy yourself and Lydia a ticket for England where you will live on my estate, free from prying eyes—”
“No, that is your home, where you can offer Lady Ferguson—”
“If you and Lydia will be safe there, then please go,” Erva said.
Emma shook her head, but Lydia slowly started talking. “Once we heard of you, Lady Ferguson, Emma wanted to keep our distance, until Will spread news of your coming nuptials. But...a chambermaid caught us—caught us, er—”
“I get it.” Erva nodded.
Lydia smiled shyly, her cheeks blushing. “So we feared...we’re scared of what the maid might do, whom she might talk to. Then I told Emma we should come here to ask Will to help us...We need help.”
“Of course,” Erva said, realizing the desperateness of the situation. They could be put to death with proof of their love. More than likely, they would spend the rest of their days in prison, but that was little better than a death sentence. She turned to Will. “Will they be safe on your estate?”
Will nodded. “I’ve hired few servants, but the ones there would never betray me. They are loyal.”
“I can’t,” Emma objected again. “That is your home.” She looked pointedly at Will. “For you and—”
Erva couldn’t let her finish the sentence. Her heart might explode if she did. “Please go.”
“No matter the loyalty of Will’s servants, rumors will abound, my lady, and you can’t—”
Erva interrupted again. “I don’t care if people say we are all four of us lovers. I don’t care. Your safety and life are much more important than anything anyone could say about me.”
“But your reputation—” Emma disagreed.
“Let people think what they will, I don’t care.”
Emma blinked, then blinked again. Tears formed. One softly fell from her cobalt eye. “You—I knew I was right about you.” As more tears fell and Lydia swept them away, Emma turned to Will. “She’s the one.”
“I know,” Will agreed.
The world stopped spinning. Everything halted and all Erva could see was Will, and hear his words echo in her mind. It was then his marriage proposal and those simple words cracked through all the toughened layers around her heart, through her cynicism. Although he’d never admitted that he loved her, Erva wondered if she didn’t feel it radiate off him and into her. It felt warm and brilliant, like lying naked in the sun. It felt deliciously sensual, and the warmth spread through her arms and legs, her chest and pooled in her breasts. Her stomach floated with the luscious feeling, like a rollercoaster, but this was so much more fun.
Will didn’t smile down at Erva. The look he gave her was primal, old as time. It was as if he tattooed his name over her heart with that look. It was possessive and masculine, making her knees weak. So that was what it felt like. To be in love.
Will’s jawline punched, but then he turned back to his sister. “In light of certain events, I must insist that we send you and Lydia to my estate in England. I will have my man of business, Paul, prepare for everything. I wish you and Erva had more time to get to know each other; I wish I had more time to get to know you, Emma. And Lydia too.”
Lydia smiled and bowed her head.
“But we’ll have all the time in the world when I return from this war.”
At that Erva couldn’t help but catch hold of Will’s coat sleeve and cling to him. Oh God, he wouldn't return.
“I’ll ask to retire from the war,” he continued, absent-mindedly adjusting so he held Erva closer. “General Howe owes me, so I will probably be granted early leave. Then Erva and I will come home shortly.”
Emma turned from Erva to Will then back again. “Are you certain you want to do this? Have your...gay sister live with you in England? I do like this double-meaning word, by the by, Erva.”
Emma beamed at Erva. And Erva tried to reciprocate, but she gripped even tighter to Will. She couldn’t let him die. She couldn’t let history be written the way it was. Even if it meant she would never see her iPhone with her hundreds of books downloaded on it ever again, she couldn’t let nature—or whatever it might be called—take its course.
Erva shakily smiled back at Emma, realizing that for once she would have a sister-in-law who actually liked her. If she stayed, she would have a family with Will and Emma and Lydia. Then and there, she knew that was right.
Will had rocketed through all her defenses. He’d outmaneuvered her because he’d been kind, considerate, and so damned easy to fall in love with. It was done. As Julius Caesar might say, the die was cast, and Erva made up her mind that she would stay in the eighteenth century. When Clio and Erato returned for her, she’d...well, she’d explain it to them. They seemed like reasonable people, er, muses. She’d tell them that she had fallen in love with Will, and this was where she was meant to be.
With her mind made up, she gazed at Will talking to Emma and Lydia about taking their things on a quick sailboat. God, he was so beautiful, such a beautiful man. She would have never imagined such a man existed. He was handsome, yes, but his heart was—well, angelic. There was no better word for him. He was so pure and good, and he wanted her. Her! He wanted her as his wife. Although, Erva knew that some of his decision must be based on his eighteenth century-ish-ness, she couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, it was that he’d falle
n for her as much as she’d fallen for him.
Soon enough Emma and Lydia hugged Erva tight, promising that they would see her in England. They left the library with the crowd of tea-goers hushing, but Erva’s head was raised high. She gave Lady Anne a huge grin and wink, then a wave goodbye. Briefly, she thought about the piano recital she’d promised the lady. But Erva decided to give the gracious Anne a rain check. After all, she’d made up her mind to stay here, where she could give out rain checks. Further, she was getting a family and a man who made her knees go weak. Not only that, he was really good in bed. Or at least on the couch.
As Will escorted Erva to the carriage, she realized there was so much more to look forward to now that she knew her place. She just had to make sure Will didn’t die. And that the muses didn’t take her away. And—oh, hell with it all! She would hang on to Will for all her might.
Enemy of Mine Page 27