by Clare Revell
His hand tightened around hers. She suddenly felt like giggling. She was standing there holding Gabriel Tyler’s hand and admiring the man like a total idiot. Wait he’d asked her a question and was waiting for a response. Never mind the forty kids watching the pair of them with interest. What had he asked? Oh, she remembered. “No, you’re just in time.”
His smile grew, and he let go of her hand. “How was the rest of your day?”
“It was good.” Why she could only get a few words out was beyond her. And why did she suddenly feel bereft because he was no longer touching her hand?
Somewhere to her left, Jonathan clapped his hands. “Right, you lot, settle down. Yes, Mr. Tyler is here. No, he doesn’t want to be assailed by a screaming horde. Try to show him how nicely you can behave. There are two options for dinner tonight. Fish or cauliflower cheese; both come with chips, and the usual assortment of veg or beans. So which table is sitting the best?” He paused. “Carolyn, your table.”
Chairs scraped as eight kids rushed to the counter.
Dawn shook her head. “Anyone would think we’d starved them all day. I assume you can eat either of those options?”
“I love fish. My brother and I used to go fishing all the time when we were kids and ate some of what we caught.”
“Did you prepare them yourselves?” she asked sidestepping one of the kids with a very full plate.
“No, someone else did that for us.”
One of the kids came up to them.
“Miss, we made room for Mr. Tyler to sit at our table. Mr. Brooks says we can go get our food now.”
“That’s very kind, Emma, but…”
“I don’t mind sitting with the kids, if it’s all right with you, Miss Stannis.” Gabe looked from the expectant child to her.
Was that her frustration echoed in his own eyes? Or was she seeing what she wanted to see. Somehow, she nodded. “Sure.” She watched him head off with Emma and sucked in a deep breath.
“Is that disappointment I see?” Liz whispered in her ear. “After all, he did initially want dinner with you.”
“I hardly know the man,” Dawn protested. “How can it be?”
Liz elbowed her. “Pull the other one; it’s got bells on it.”
Dawn winked. “You have bells? Is that why you want to teach music next term in addition to geography? Maybe you’re a secret belly dancer.”
Liz snapped her fingers. “Darn, the secret is out.”
Dawn laughed. “I want a demonstration around the campfire later.” She waited until all the kids had been served then got her meal. She slid into a seat at the end of one of the boys’ tables. “Did you guys have fun today?”
“The filming was epic,” Henry said with his mouth full. “I so wanna be an actor when I grow up.”
“Me too,” chorused another four.
“What are we doing after dinner, miss? Can we talk with Mr. Tyler some more?”
“I’m sure he’d do that,” Dawn said. “But I have arranged for a campfire at eight o’clock.”
“Can we have marshmallows?”
Enthusiasm filled the table.
“Do we have any?” she asked.
The kids’ faces fell. “No.”
“But I know where I can get some. So, if you promise to be careful, I’ll pick some up.”
“We promise.”
Jonathan glanced over from his seat at the next table. “Is that a promise to go straight to bed and be asleep by seven-thirty I hear?”
The kids laughed. “No, sir. Miss Stannis said she’d get marshmallows for the campfire if we promised to be careful,” Henry explained.
“Did she now?” Jonathan raised an eyebrow.
“It’ll be fun,” Dawn said.
“Yes, it will. And if Miss Stannis is prepared to trek to the shops, then we can have them.” He held up a hand as the kids expressed approval—loudly.
Henry glanced across the room. “Have you ever done marshmallows, Mr. Tyler?”
“Yes, I have,” Gabe answered. “And singing.”
“Singing?”
He nodded, a serious expression on his face. “You can’t have a campfire and not sing. Especially if you’re going to toast marshmallows.”
“Sounds cool.”
Gabe shot Dawn a smile that rocked her to the core.
Jonathan leaned toward her. “I think you have a fan.”
“Rubbish. I hardly know the man.”
Liz laughed as she passed her. “Funny. I didn’t believe that the last time, either.”
Dawn shifted uncomfortably. The last thing she wanted was for the children to pick up on the teasing and join in. The next time someone suggested going on a field trip, she’d come down with scarlet fever or some other dreaded disease and stay home. “I think now would be a good time to go and buy several packets of marshmallows and toasting forks.”
“Want me to save you pudding?” Liz still had that grin.
She shook her head. “No, thanks.” She rose, excused herself, and quickly left the dining room before anyone else could say anything. Heading swiftly down the hallway to the center’s market, she was dismayed to find it closed. She’d missed them by ten minutes. A sign on the door said the nearest shop was the garage ten minutes down the road.
But a promise was a promise, and she wouldn’t be long. She quickly texted Jonathan and headed out.
~*~
Gabe grinned at the kids. They’d caught on superfast to his impromptu class on stage fighting and how to strangle someone without hurting them.
When Dawn came back into the room, it instantly brightened. Gabe decided that she was aptly named. But he knew there was far more to her beauty.
Six teenagers surrounded her. “Did you get them, miss?”
“We thought you got lost. Mr. Brooks was gonna call the search and rescue people with helicopters and everything.”
“I didn’t get lost.” Dawn grinned and held up a bag. “I got them. I’ve been helping light the fire, so go and put on your jackets. Be outside in the quad in five minutes.”
As the kids scampered from the room, she turned to Jonathan. She raised an eyebrow. “Search and rescue and a helicopter? Isn’t that overkill?”
Jonathan shrugged. “You were gone a long time. Your text said ten minutes.”
“Like I said, I was helping with the bonfire. Plus which, I had to walk to the garage—ten minutes each way. But I’m here now.”
Gabe fell into pace beside her. She looked as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Instead of the light step he remembered from the previous week, she trudged, shoulders slumped.
“Those kids are fast learners. They seemed to enjoy what I showed them. And I signed some autographs for them too.” He walked by her side.
“They were told not to impose.”
“They didn’t impose, and I don’t mind. That sort of attention kind of goes with the job most days. What I do hate is being tracked by paparazzi--paperzillas as my mother calls them.”
“Sounds horrible. A bit like Godzilla with a camera,” she said quietly.
Gabe chuckled. “Something like that.”
Ten minutes later, he sat by a roaring fire. The fire pit was cleverly constructed so that the fire was almost beneath them, thus the staff could see all the kids, and no one would get hurt by getting too close. He’d wanted to sit next to Dawn, but propriety said otherwise—which was the same reason he was being formal with her name.
She was working, and he didn’t want to distract or upset her any more than she already was. He hoped that he wasn’t the cause of her apparent distress.
The firelight reflected in her eyes and emphasized her cheekbones. Her skin glowed in the amber light. She was beautiful. The line of a poem ran through his mind “the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses” but couldn’t remember who wrote it.
Dawn and roses. The two went so perfectly together.
He suddenly realized that she’d mentioned his name, and he had
no idea what she’d said. He tilted his head. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
“I asked what campfire songs you know. The kids seem to think you’re some kind of expert.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t know about that. I guess you mean other than the c-a-m-p-f-i-r-e-s-o-n-g song.”
“The what song?”
“The c-a-m-p-f-i-r-e-s-o-n-g song.” He speared a marshmallow. “Do you kids know that one?” A chorus of yeses echoed. “Then I suggest we teach Miss Stannis how it goes.” Gabe grinned and sang it, the kids joining in with him.
He then taught them a few new songs before singing the usual ones that most kids knew. An hour later, he’d exhausted his repertoire and looked at Dawn. “Are you sure you don’t know any? You must have gone to girl guides or something.”
“Well,” she said thoughtfully. “There is one.” She sang the first line.
The kids roared with laughter.
“I remember that one,” Gabe said noting the other teachers nodding as well. “Don’t any of you kids know it?”
A few hands went up. “We sing it at scouts,” Henry said. “She isn’t making it up. We sometimes sing it in a round.”
“Now that I have never tried.” Gabe resolved to tell Blake as soon as he could and try it with him. They’d camped a lot as kids on the estate grounds and often sang around the campfire. “Miss Stannis, shall we?”
“Sure.” Dawn took a deep breath and sang.
Gabe blended his voice with hers, and the kids slowly began to join in. Once they’d gotten the hang of it, they sang it as a round getting faster and faster until they were laughing too much to sing.
As the fire died down, Jonathan packed all the kids off to bed.
Gabe looked at Dawn. “I had a great time. Thank you for inviting me.”
“You’re welcome. We had fun too. Thank you for coming.”
“Is that you done for the night?”
“Aside from checking on them ten times and telling them to be quiet, yeah.”
He rose and looked at her. “I was wondering if you had time for a quick walk. If you’re too tired, then I understand.”
He caught his breath. The words had come out faster than he could think. Of course she couldn’t come. She was working. He was a fool for asking her in front of the others. He’d put both of them in an untenably awkward position. Maybe he should just backtrack, rewind, and rescind the offer for another day. Because she was working and couldn’t say yes even if she wanted to.
6
Heat pulsed through Dawn burning her cheeks. What was he thinking? She desperately wanted to accept, but couldn’t. How did she say no in such a way that he’d ask her again when she wasn’t surrounded by a load of work colleagues and—
Gabe hadn’t moved. He was waiting for an answer, his heart on his sleeve and a world of worry in his gaze. How could a man convey his emotions in his eyes like that? It must come with his job and training because it seemed as if she could see into the depths of his soul. Which was silly and not possible.
“I’d love to,” she said, “but I’m working.”
“Go,” Jonathan said from the other side of the remains of the campfire. “We can manage without you for a couple of hours.”
“Are you sure?”
Liz agreed. “Yes. If the girls get out of hand, I’ll set Robert on them. That will have them running for their beds and hiding quicker than counting to five.”
“Thank you.”
“Just be back before midnight,” Jonathan said. “Otherwise, you might turn into a turnip.”
“A turnip? Thought it was a pumpkin.”
“This far north it’s a turnip, and then you’ll be eaten by the beast of the moor.”
“Yeah, right.” Dawn reached for her jacket and slid into it. The evening had turned sticky and humid as it wore on, but she’d take it anyway. Wearing it saved having to carry it. Thick clouds started to build overhead slowly blocking out the stars. Wisps of cloud reached long trailing fingers for the moon.
Gabe walked with her. “I think we may have had the best of the evening.”
“I think you’re right.” Dawn kept his pace trying to work him out. How much of this was the real him, and how much was him still in character so to speak?
“What are you thinking?” His chocolate rich voice broke the silence.
“Direct as always,” she whispered. She glanced up and then wished she hadn’t as his gaze pulled her in and swallowed her whole.
“Of course. Like I said, there is no point beating around the bush and ignoring the elephant standing right next to you.”
She forced a deep breath into her lungs. “OK, uh, I was wondering what we were doing.”
A smile crossed his lips making him even more handsome than before. “We’re going for a walk. I thought that was obvious.” He turned onto a path that led away from the main trail and into the hills along one of the marked trails. Torchlight guided their feet, but there was still a tiny shred of moonlight to help.
“Well, yes, but I meant aside from that. You’re a Hollywood star, a household name, not to mention a Lord, and I’m a…well, a no one really.”
“That’s not true. You’re the first person in a long time to—” He took her hand helping her up a steep incline. “No, let me rephrase that. Aside from my brother, Blake, you’re the only person in like forever to treat me like a normal human being.”
Rivers of warmth shot up her hand and into her arm as Dawn gazed at him. “Now you’re making fun of me.”
Gabe stopped and turned to face her. “No, I’m not. I would never do anything like that.” He looked nervous, his eyes flickering. “People always expect so much of me for one reason or another, and I can’t be myself around them. But you…”
Dawn tilted her head. “For an actor, you’re not very good at this.”
Gabe laughed. “Maybe because I have to make up my own words this time and not rely on a script.”
“Maybe.”
He gripped her hand tighter. “What I’m trying to say, very badly as it turns out, is that since I met you, you have monopolized my thoughts like no other woman ever has.”
Surprise filled her. That was the last thing she was expecting to hear. “I have?” she managed. As he nodded, she stood there unsure how to respond. In the end, she plumped for directness as he seemed to like that. “You keep invading my thoughts as well.”
“I do?” His eyes widened.
“Yeah.” She paused. “Are you really a lord? When I rang that first time, some bloke answered the phone and told me, in a very refined and clipped tone of voice, that ‘Lord Tyler wasn’t available right now.’”
“That would be Hardy, the butler. For my sins, I’m Lord Gabriel Frederick Kinlan Tyler, Eighth Earl of Elton. I’ve been the Earl since Dad died six months ago.”
“Wow.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
They started walking again as Dawn tried to put her thoughts into words. “Why for your sins?”
“Huh?”
“You said for your sins, your full name is… Don’t you like it?”
“My mother’s favorite expression and no, I didn’t want the title. At least not yet. Dad was only fifty-five. I wasn’t expecting this for, oh I don’t know, another thirty years or so. Actually I kind of hoped it’d miss me completely and pass either to these hypothetical children my mother keeps harping on about or to my younger brother, Blake.”
“And he probably loves you for that.”
“Probably. The thing is my mother wants me to give up acting and stay home all day long bossing the servants and running the estate.”
“And you don’t want to?”
“Not really.” Gabe pushed his hand through his hair. “Yes, it needs doing, but I can do both. I have a really good estate manager who copes with the mundane day to day stuff. If he needs me, then he calls me, and we have regular meetings. I just prefer acting to being lord of the manor.”
; The wind picked up, and rain began to fall from the now total cloud cover. Thunder rolled in the distance. Dawn pulled her jacket collar around her neck and zipped it up as far as it would go. “But you’re both, whether you want to be or not.”
And both the actor and the lord of the manor were way beyond her reach even if she could have them.
She tilted her head. “Kinlan is an unusual name.”
“It’s Mother’s maiden name. She had no brothers and didn’t want the name to die out with her marriage.”
Lightning flashed across the sky, and the rain fell harder. Gabe grabbed her hand. “We need to find shelter.”
“Might be an idea.”
He pulled her across the field to the clump of trees. “It should be drier here.”
The storm grew closer, and rain tipped down around them.
“Is this safe?” Dawn asked. “My mother always said never stand under a tree in a thunderstorm.”
Lightning flashed again, sizzling filled the air, and a tree across the field burst into flames. Gabe grabbed her hand. “On reflection, I’d say your mother was right, and this wasn’t at all safe.” He glanced around and pointed with his free hand. “There’s a cabin over there. Perhaps we can shelter on their porch or something until the storm passes.”
She ran with him and dashed up the steps to the cabin. Even to her untrained eye, the sagging tiles and peeling paintwork made it pretty run down and dilapidated. They stood on the porch, and Dawn ran her hands through her hair trying to shake out some of the water. “It doesn’t look lived in.”
Gabe knocked on the door. “Hello?” No one answered, so after a moment, he tried the door. It swung open with a creak. He stuck his head inside. “Hello? Is anyone home?”
Still no answer came. “I guess no one is home.” He took her hand again guiding her inside.
He swung his torch around. The small one room cabin was devoid of furniture, and a thick layer of dust covered the floor. “This will do,” he said. He rubbed his hair with his hands showering water everywhere.
“I feel like a drowned rat,” Dawn said.
“You look like one, too.”