by Emma Brady
Rory was silent. He could see the tightness of her jaw, and they both knew there was only one choice. He turned and started to walk away, knowing he would hear her voice calling out to him.
“You can really get it done in two weeks?”
He stopped his progression toward the door. “Yes.”
“Would you need to hire more workers?”
“No. Rex and I can get it done. We will need the supplies and those would need to be ordered right away. I don’t have time to wait for you to arrange credit. That’s why I’m offering to pay for them in exchange for half the sale price.” He stood with his back to her, unmoving, while she thought about his offer. He had no doubt which way she would go.
“Fine. I will agree to those terms, but I want to be in charge of choosing the supplies you will be getting.”
Clayton could feel his lips slowly curling up into a victorious grin. He pivoted on his heels and looked at her.
“I know a woman always does like to shop,” Clayton said. “Unfortunately, it would slow us down if we all went to London. It’s faster to send just one person instead.”
“I insist Darla go as well. I trust her judgement.”
“You don’t trust mine?”
One finely arched eyebrow went up.
He shrugged. “Fine. Rex and Darla will both go tomorrow and should be back by evening. I will make a list and she can make sure he sticks to it.”
Her fingers fidgeted with the folds of her skirt as she thought about her final say. It would be an agreement, so he didn’t feel the need to rush her. He stood there and waited for her to give in.
“I agree to your terms.”
Clayton felt his grin spreading wider across his face. Rory looked like she had bitten into a lemon. She would warm up to him once she saw how beautiful he was going to make the house look.
On the way back to the inn, Rex was unusually quiet. He refused to look Clayton in the eye as his jaw clenched over and over again. The lack of banter was enough to be concerning.
“Surely you don’t have a problem with the work. You always enjoy a new project,” Clayton said when the silence became too tense.
“You are supposed to be going home,” Rex growled. “You gave your brother your word. I gave him my word.”
Neither of them had been the type to follow the rules before. Something about being in London was making his friend irritable.
“I’m still going to get there. I’m not expected for another two weeks. I can finish the house and still arrive as expected.”
Clayton leaned back in his seat and let has head fall back against the cushion. His mind was thinking about how lovely the house was going to be when he was finished with it. A good shine on those wood floors and a new wallpaper for the bedroom walls would instantly make it feel fresher than it had in years. Rich fabrics for the curtains and the furniture, but light colors to make the rooms seem bigger. The ballroom would require the most work with its crumbling ceiling, but that meant it would be the most impressive transformation. Then there was that secret garden. These were the things of a builder’s dreams.
“Do you think this delay is a good idea? A house with two women, alone?” Rex wasn’t going to let him relax.
“Are you saying you can’t control yourself?”
Rex snorted.
“Then we have nothing to worry about. The only thing I’m interested in getting my hands on is the house,” Clayton replied.
“You have an unusual way of dealing with anxiety.”
“I’m going home. There is nothing to be anxious about.”
“Neither one of us believes that.”
Clayton shrugged. “Then at least this will keep us busy.”
“I do hate idle hands.” Now the twinkle was back in his friend’s eye.
“Are you sure you are going to be under control?’
Rex laughed. “Against that spoiled young woman or her spinster companion? I think I can keep my distance.”
“You always enjoyed a challenge.”
“Not this time. The only challenge on my mind is making sure you arrive home.”
Chapter 6
FROM THE ATTIC WINDOW, Rory could catch glimpses of Clayton as he dragged pieces of the collapsed roof from the ballroom. He wore trousers and a shirt but no jacket. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, and she could see the tanned skin of his arms. Every so often he would tug on his suspenders, pulling up his trousers from where they hung on his hips.
She shouldn’t be watching him the way she was, but she couldn’t pull away from the window. He looked so different than all the other men she knew. They all seemed so refined and elegant in their well-cut suits and expensive hats. Clayton wore no hat at all, letting his blond locks shine in the sun. A thick blond beard covered half of his face, but she had noticed his brilliant smile in the carriage. Not to mention those deep blue eyes that were always twinkling at her. A man shouldn’t be able to twinkle like that.
“Get ahold of yourself,” Rory mumbled out loud as Clayton ducked back inside the ballroom and out of sight. “He’s an employee, not a guest.”
As a distraction, Rory pulled the nearest box closer and began going through it. The contents were very well organized and clearly packed with care. Each box was labeled and held items from a different year in her ant Molly’s life. It started when she was just a baby and went up to the year before her death. A person’s entire life, boxed, labeled, and stuffed away. Rather sad that this was all her aunt had left behind.
Rory became absorbed by the things she found in the boxes. Most of them were of no real value, but she found them interesting in the way they told the story of Molly’s life. She had her lunch brought up to her because she didn’t want to put the boxes away. She ignored the way the light from the window began to dim, and a maid brought her a lamp to see by. She was just getting to the point where her aunt would have been the same age she was when she heard footsteps approaching.
“Just place my dinner tray over there,” she instructed the servant without looking up from the stack of letters she held. “You can come back for it in an hour.”
“Was it my steps that made me sound like the maid?”
Tilting her head up, Rory found Clayton standing at the doorway to the attic with a dinner tray. He wore a clean shirt, and his hair was still wet from washing. Not what most men in London wore in the company of a lady, but he had tried to appear presentable for her benefit.
“No, I just suspected it was dinner time,” she stuttered, embarrassed to be caught losing track of time.
“If you are busy, I can leave.”
“No, of course not.” Rory felt bad dismissing him after he was kind enough to carry something up to her.
“I brought us something to eat. I thought you might appreciate a break.”
He set the large picnic basket down on the floor between them, and she could smell fresh bread coming from it. Her stomach growled loudly, and she felt a blush spread across her cheeks. Her stomach always had bad manners when it was hungry.
“It appears I arrived just in time.” Clayton grinned as he took a seat next to her on the floor.
The dirt was washed from his face, but it was still dark tan against the white of his shirt, and his teeth sparkled. She would have thought he would stink, being in the sun all day as he was, but he didn’t. There was a scent of wood and sunshine about him. Sitting so close would have been less distracting if the odor was unpleasant. Instead, she was struggling not to lean closer to him.
“How’s the work going?” She hoped some conversation would help ease her nerves around him.
“Slow, but that’s not a problem. The real work won’t start until we have the items we need.” He pulled a loaf of bread from the basket, and her gaze focused on it. “How about up here? Find anything of value?”
“Nothing worth money, but I have found many interesting things about Molly’s life.”
Rory never took her eyes away from what he held in his
hands. He tore off two pieces of the loaf and added meat and cheese to them. It was a simple cold dinner, but her stomach growled again at the sight of it. She was getting the nibbles and her mind wouldn’t be able to focus until she ate.
“The story must have been something special if you forgot to eat.” Clayton chuckled.
“I have never sorted through a person’s life before. Not without knowing the person first.”
“What have you learned?”
At first she thought he was poking fun at her, but when she looked into his eyes, she saw genuine interest and curiosity there. That had never happened before when Rory was talking to a man.
“I have only gotten through the early years of her life, but so far I think Aunt Molly was someone I would have liked.”
Rory went on to tell him about her aunt’s favorite toys as a child, then the large number of riding habits from her younger years. One of them was very torn, which indicated she’d had a bad fall at some point. That didn’t stop her from continuing to ride though, and the habits continued to get bigger.
“I just found a diary she kept after she got out of school. It started by telling the story of her first season in London.”
Clayton just shook his head. “I hope my mother doesn’t have all of my things tucked away somewhere.”
“You have a mother?” Rory was having trouble picturing him as a child. She couldn’t think about him without the beard.
He nodded, but he didn’t elaborate.
“My parents were always very busy when we were young. They wouldn’t think to put our things away like this.” Rory looked at all the boxes lined up along the attic wall. “I think that is why my brother and I are so close. Most of the time it was just the two of us.”
“That must have been nice.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Rory watched as Clayton’s face changed from a happy smile to a dark scowl.
“What about your siblings?” she asked cautiously.
“I only have the one older brother, and we aren’t very close.”
“Is he in England?”
“Yes.”
“London?”
“No.”
With each question, Rory could feel the tension growing between them. If she asked too many, he would no doubt leave, and she didn’t want that. She was enjoying their conversation too much.
“Your mother must have had her hands full,” Rory said, hoping to lighten the mood again. “My brother was just one boy alone and he caused a great deal of trouble in his youth.”
“He outgrew it?”
“Not really, but now he has a wife to answer to.”
That cracked through the dark mood Clayton was in, and he laughed again. Rory noticed how he laughed as if he expected to never do it again. He reveled in it, letting his whole body shake. She wondered if that was something they did in Africa and he’d brought it back with him.
“I imagine you were a bit of a hellion as well in your youth,” Clayton said once the laughter subsided.
“What makes you think that?” It was true, but Rory thought she hid it well.
“You have an air of adventure about you.”
His voice had deepened, and Rory flushed with warmth through her entire body. It wasn’t really a compliment, but it made her smile anyway.
“I think my aunt had that as well. I haven’t found out about her adventures yet, but I just know they are waiting for me in all of this.”
“You two are more alike than you thought.”
Rory still wouldn’t take it that far. Her aunt had never married and never had any kind of family. Regardless of her numerous failed seasons, Rory still hoped to have those things in her life. Her aunt had died alone, with only servants to notify the officials and that was such a sad thought. A life without love would be no life at all.
“I think I had better go. I want to get as much of the ballroom finished as possible. When we are ready to show this place to buyers, that will be a very impressive feature,” said Clayton.
The two of them stood, and Rory reached out to hand him the tray at the same time that he bent over for it. Rory felt the back of her head strike his face, and there was a small cracking sound followed by a lot of cursing. Some of the things he said she had never heard before, but the tone let her know they were not for polite conversation. Rory was trying to apologize as quickly as she could, repeating how sorry she was over and over again.
“Why would you do that?” Clayton asked, his words slurred from him tilting his head back and holding his bleeding nose.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think, I just reached for it.”
“Can’t you let a man be chivalrous?”
“I’m not used to men offering to help.”
“You should pick your company better.”
Rory helped guide him back until there was a trunk for him to sit on. He still held his nose pinched between his fingers, and there appeared to be tears in his eyes.
“Do you have anything to stop the bleeding?” Clayton asked. “A handkerchief or a cloth of some kind?”
Rory didn’t have anything like that on her, but she could see a piece of fabric peeking out from one of the boxes. She quickly grabbed it and thrust it into his face. Clayton bunched it up and pressed it to his nose.
“Is it broken?” Rory asked, her voice tight and shrill to her own ears.
“Might be.” His voice was practically a growl. “Would that make you happy?”
“Don’t be absurd. I have never intentionally injured anyone.”
“Unintentionally?”
Rory felt her cheeks grow warm. “I’m not often clumsy.”
The truth was that Rory had a bad habit of rushing into things and occasionally caused accidents. At balls, she was bumping into people and stepping on toes. While riding, she had been known to startle other horses. Even playing chess, she could reach across the table too quickly and knock over the board. The card table was safe, until she got too caught up and lost so much.
“I will be sure to keep a safe distance from you if I can.”
Clayton pulled the fabric away to make sure the bleeding had stopped. His tone was sharper than it should have been and cut deep into Rory’s temper. Their special moment was gone.
“That’s fine by me. No one asked you to bring me dinner.”
“I was trying to be nice.”
“There is no need for it. I’m better when I’m on my own.”
Clayton stood up. Rory tried to step back to give him room, but he took her by the arm and kept her in place.
“Is that really what you think? That it’s better to do everything alone?”
She looked up at the red swelling in the center of his face and winced. It distracted her from answering his question.
“Are you wanting to keep everyone away, or is it just me? You don’t like the idea of eating with the help?”
She shook her head, but part of her knew that being here with him was wrong. In London they would never be allowed to be alone.
“It’s important that we remember our places. Not get too comfortable with each other.” Rory watched the disappointment flash across his eyes. “Darla wouldn’t be happy with my behavior.”
“She isn’t here now.”
Something in his voice changed, and she felt a tremble go from where he held her through her entire body. He wasn’t holding her firmly, but she wasn’t trying to get away.
“What do you see when you look at me?” It felt like his voice was running across her skin, but he was at least a foot away.
“Excuse me?” Rory blinked rapidly.
“What do you see? Do you see me as a servant or as a man?”
“There is a difference?” Rory was certain many of the servants n her house growing up had been men. “You definitely aren’t a woman.”
“This is the difference.”
Rory sensed what he was going to do a second before he moved, and she did nothing to stop him. She knew she should, but her curi
osity was too much. She wanted to at least feel the sensation before she dismissed it. There would be time to reprimand him for his advance after.
She had heard about kissing from other girls and had even caught her brother in the act a few times. No one had actually tried to get a kiss from her, but she assumed it was no real loss. Now she realized that secondhand knowledge was not enough. The moment his lips touched hers, it felt as if her mind and body were no longer her own.
Prepared was what she thought she was, but she was very wrong. The softness of his lips mixed with the firm press of those lips against her own was an intoxicating combination. She thought he would be slobbering all over her, but he barely moved. He simply held her tightly against his chest and let her mouth melt into his. He had endless patience, while she was anxious to keep going. She wasn’t even sure what she was trying to get to, but she had that feeling of rushing forward. Without realizing it, her arms wrapped around his neck and urged him for more.
With intensely focused movement, Clayton wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her up while the other reached to cup her chin. That helped her tilt in the right direction as their lips moved together. The friction made her sigh against him. Suddenly she felt him release her, almost shoving her away and startling her back into the moment. That’s when she heard the sound of loud voices coming from outside. Rex and Darla were arguing.
“This never happened.” Clayton’s breathing was as heavy as hers when he spoke. His hands were at his side, fists clenched.
Rory nodded an agreement.
“Then let’s go stop the two of them before they come to blows.”
Chapter 7
TWO DAYS LATER, CLAYTON was covered in dust and had cuts on his hands from fixing the roof in the ballroom. Exhaustion made his muscles ache, but he had a smile on his face. The work felt good to him. There was something honest about the sweat a man put into something, watching it become a finished structure. They had finished repairing the holes, and now it had to dry before they could repaint the mural on the inside. Clayton enjoyed the calm, slow steps it took to create a building that was both beautiful and strong.