All You Could Ask For

by Angeline Fortin

  He had thought she might be just as keen to do the same.

  Given the way she was avoiding his eyes, that was clearly not the case.

  The others ladies were far more pleased to see him, greeting him merrily. The devil inside drove Aylesbury to drop a kiss on Moira’s cheek and Abby’s too under the glowers of their husbands. He might have done the same with Eve and Kitty but Eve tended to strike him as too proper to accept it and he simply didn’t know Kitty that well. The four of them moved off to the front two carriages with their spouses and Aylesbury turned, holding out his hand to help the two Mrs. MacKintoshs into the third carriage. He returned their greetings with a smile before turning to Fiona to do the same.

  “Good morning, Lady Fiona,” he said pleasantly enough, though his gaze held just enough suggestion to tickle her ire. He had found her weakness and intended to use it. There would not be another retreat into stony silence. “You are a treat for the eyes and,” he lowered his voice, “a temptation to the lips.”

  Fiona snorted indelicately. “While you, Lord Aylesbury, are simply a surprise.”

  “I won’t ask if it is a pleasant one.”

  “That would probably be for the best,” she responded tartly enough though her lips twitched just a bit when he laughed aloud. Shaking her head, Fiona treated him to the slim line of her back and lifted her skirts to climb into the brougham, displaying the sweet turn of her silk covered ankles and a pair of oxfords covered in the same floral silk as her long frock coat.

  Grinning at the sight, Aylesbury climbed up after her. With Coline on one side, Fiona had joined Ilona on the other. As Colin and Sean would likely wish to sit next to their wives, he took the seat next to Coline across from Fiona. The sun was beaming down on her, the airy brim of her hat casting a vague shadow over the upper portion of her face.

  With a frown, she lifted a hand to shade her eyes but did not employ the lace parasol she held. “New parasol?”

  Fiona inclined her head with a quizzical look.

  “How many do you have?”

  “A few,” she answered as her brothers joined them and the caravan of carriages was set in motion.

  “Just a few?”

  A becoming blush rose in her cheeks and Aylesbury smiled at the sight. “And shoes? How many?”

  A pothole jolted the carriage before Fiona could respond. She dropped her parasol and it tipped into the foot well between them. They both leaned forward to retrieve it. Aylesbury’s hand wrapped over hers and held it briefly, his eyes dancing as they caught and held hers. “Ah Lady Fiona,” he murmured in a suggestively low baritone. “Those feminine details do make a man wonder what other delights and lacy confections you might be hiding beneath those skirts.”

  Her cheeks flamed then and with a gasp, Fiona raised her parasol tapping him lightly on the shoulder. Aylesbury chuckled, knowing she would rather have beaten him soundly around the head and shoulders with it. “Careful now. You don’t want to ruin another.”

  Ilona overheard him and smiled. “You needn’t worry about that, Lord Aylesbury. Fiona has a parasol for every day of the week.”

  “Or month,” Colin added.

  “Make it a year,” Sean called out as if they were bidding at the auction house.

  “Sold!” Ilona cried and everyone laughed.

  Including Fiona. This time when their eyes met, there was real joy lighting them.

  Though he had been witness to her laughter several times since they met again, Aylesbury realized in that moment that this was the first time she had laughed with him. There had been plenty of occasions where he had seen her humor and smiles but they weren’t his. Not since he had been in Edinburgh two years before had she shared that with him like she used to.

  He had missed it.

  Chapter 21

  Ah, Piper, why am I still here? Are you as angry with me for it as I am with myself? Is that why you are not returning my letters?”

  ~From the correspondence of the Marquis of Aylesbury—Apr 1893

  The Empire of India Exhibition

  The Earl’s Court

  London, England

  As Hobbes had suspected, the exhibition was a carnival. A sprawling cavalcade that covered the vast grounds of the Earl’s Court in freshly built exhibit halls, pavilions and bandstands. There were vendors and jugglers dotting the wide thoroughfare and the crowds were as thick as the smells of dozens of different foods that filled the air.

  They split into groups much as they had in the carriages. The four younger lads, Tam, Ian, Connor and Dorian, were off before the carriages had even drawn to a halt before the gates. Doubtless heading straight for whatever trouble might be found, it was unlikely they would see them again until dusk. A tight quartet, Eve, Kitty, Moira and Abby tended to group together. Their husbands close in age and close since birth were of the same inclination. The women led the way, their heads already together.

  Grouped among the “younger set” of couples, Fiona was left with little choice but to take Aylesbury’s arm or walk alone. It would have been foolish and spiteful to ignore his offered arm as they followed along behind the others simply because their astonishing ardor in the soft glow of gaslights had her struggling with awkwardness in the bright light of day.

  “What should we see first?” Ilona asked, thumbing through the exhibition catalogue. Pointing to the north, she said, “Over there are the Imperial gardens and fountains.” Immediately Sean and Colin began to hem and haw and Ilona laughed. “Very well, that way,” she went on indicating an area to the southeast. “There is the Indian Jungle and Carpet Factory exhibition. Also a mosque and the Imperial Palace. Oh, that sounds nice. Shall we try that way first?”

  Everyone nodded in agreement and they were off. Despite her perpetual blush, Fiona enjoyed the day in Aylesbury’s lively company though even with all the excitement surrounding them, she was very aware of his presence. The strength of his arm beneath her hand. The brush of his shoulder across hers. The roll of his hips as his legs skimmed her skirts with every step.

  Each light contact sent her senses soaring as easily as his more blatant caresses had two nights past, but it was hard to defend herself against it when the charming marquis kept her laughing helplessly at his sharp wit as he entertained her with a lively, droll commentary as they roamed the exhibits of the Indian city, people and jewels.

  Even though his smile had grown deeper, easier over the past weeks, it wasn’t until today that Fiona could see the deviltry of old return to his blue eyes. Once again, they were dancing with humor, his lips parting with laughter.

  Given that those qualities had been the first to attract her so long ago, it was difficult to defend against their effectiveness now. Damn, but she simply liked that about him.

  After having luncheon with the other two couples at one of the many restaurants dotting the Earl’s Court, the men had played games, winning small tokens for the ladies in feats of strength and skill.

  Colin and Sean had easily won on the Strong Man game after striking the platform with a large hammer and sending the metal weight shooting upward to strike the bell. Both had insisted that Aylesbury, a puny English nobleman, would be unable to match their Highland brawn, but Aylesbury handily proved them wrong, ringing it soundly.

  Holding out the shiny metal whistle he had won, Aylesbury bowed low with a devastating smile. “My lady?”

  Fiona accepted his reward with a gracious nod. “How kind, my lord.”

  “What else shall we see?” Colin asked as the afternoon slipped away.

  “I guess there will be no avoiding it any longer,” Sean answered and they all looked up at the great steel wheel silhouetted against the bright blue sky.

  “The Great Wheel,” Aylesbury said, studying the structure. “A near duplicate, I’ve read in the papers, to the giant Ferris Wheel from Chicago’s World Fair. Three hundred feet high.”

  “Steam powered,” Colin noted.

  “Isn’t it magnificent?” Ilona gushed, holding her hat so
that she could tilt her head way back. “We’ve ignored its very existence all afternoon, but I’ve seen you all considering it. Shall we all give it a go then?”

  Coline was already shaking her head. “I couldn’t possibly be seen partaking in such a vulgar bit of entertainment.”

  Sean smiled down at his wife. “It’s all right to say you’re too afraid, my dear.”

  “I’m not afraid,” she protested, slapping his hand from her waist. “It’s simply insane! Everyone says so.”

  “Well I, for one, would love to try it!” Ilona said in raptures. “Imagine being so far up! It would feel like an eternity, I imagine! Shall we go, Colin? May we?”

  “With the way your stomach has been treating you these past days?” he asked, smiling down at her. Fiona could see that he adored her enthusiasm but still he shook his head. “I can’t have you getting sick up there. With the carriages enclosed, there would be no place for the contents of your stomach to land but on other riders.”

  “That is unfortunately true,” Ilona frowned. “Still I would love it. Might we come back another time?”

  “It will be here for years to come,” Colin teased. “There will be plenty of time for that.”

  Ilona smiled brightly, clearly pleased with his promise. “Still someone must go! Why don’t you, dear?”

  “I will save my time to share it with you,” he assured her, pressing a tender kiss to her hand. “Sean? Aylesbury?”

  “I have to agree with my wife on this one, Col,” Sean shook his head, far more cautious than his brother. “Only the truly mad or eccentric would trust that machine.”

  Fiona looked up at the towering wheel as it slowly rotated against the sky. The carriages swinging gently to and fro. It was a terrifying prospect, the very thought set her stomach in knots. She couldn’t wait to try it.

  “Well, I’m in for it,” Fiona said. “I would hate to go alone though. Aylesbury? You’re daring and eccentric enough to try it, I’d wager. Would you care to give it a go? Or do you have no whimsy?”

  Aylesbury smiled with obvious pleasure. “I have plenty of whimsy and more than enough daring. Shall we?”

  They waited in line as the carriages were emptied and filled one at a time but when their turn came, there were no other riders to fill the cart.

  Fiona hesitated. The carriages were meant to hold more than a dozen people; she hadn’t imagined she would be alone with Aylesbury. As much as she had enjoyed the day, she wasn’t certain she was ready to have his undivided attention.

  “You needn’t fear being alone with me. I won’t bite,” he whispered in her ear, gently encouraging her to board the gondola. Fiona glanced up at him, wide-eyed and he grinned. “Yes, I can read you very well. What are you more afraid of? Me or that wheel?”

  “Neither!”

  Chapter 22

  That Ladies Journal article hasn’t proved useful even in the slightest. Ignoring Harry hasn’t seemed to help at all. In fact, he seems rather relieved!

  ~From the diary of Lady Fiona MacKintosh—Apr 1893

  The wheel ground into motion and Fiona watched from the window as they rose slowly above the rooftops, their four companions shrinking as they rose.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Aylesbury asked, coming to her side, slipping an arm around her waist. Nuzzling her neck, he whispered, “Almost as amazing as you were last night.”

  Flushing scarlet, Fiona shrugged off his arm and went to the opposite window. From here she could see the iron spokes of the wheel. The giant iron beams of the inner workings.

  “How long does it take?”

  Aylesbury did not follow her again, instead he remained on the opposite side of the cart, watching her with his arms crossed over his chest. “Twenty minutes or so. Is that too long to spend in my company, Fiona? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

  “I was,” she answered. “I am.”

  The wheel continued to rotate, sending them slowly upward. Fiona stared out over the city, not really seeing it. She was acutely aware of nothing but Aylesbury and the steady gaze that never left her.

  A soft sigh broke the silence. Fiona wasn’t certain if it been her or him. A dim reflection in the glass let her watch him without turning his way. He took off his derby and ran a hand through his hair as he slapped the hat against his heavily muscled thigh. She wanted to run her hands through his shiny hair again, to feel it between her fingers.

  There were many things, in fact, that she wanted to experience once again.

  “Are you embarrassed by what we did, Fiona?” he asked, reading her all too well. “You needn’t be. I thought you were magnificent. Did you think I would poke fun at you?”

  “You poke fun at everything, Harry.”

  “Do you believe I intend to gloat, Fiona? I wouldn’t humiliate you like that.” Aylesbury shook his head in disbelief. “You would trust this contraption more than you would trust me?”

  That was what it really came down to, wasn’t it?

  “Have you nothing to say?”

  Fiona swallowed. There were many things she wanted to say, things she wanted to do. Already she was losing her will to keep him at arm’s length.

  Now that she knew the rapture he could provoke, Fiona tingled with every whisper of a touch, her rich imagination postulating all sorts of delightfully inappropriate scenarios that might have been, were it not for Pembrooke’s timely interruption.

  Similar imaginings had consumed her once before, long ago. More innocent, filled with gaps that two years later might be filled in. Scintillating as it was, Fiona knew that her reluctant heart was filling once more as well, beating just for him. All the promises she had made herself, all the tenacity in the world hadn’t kept it from happening again. Just as it had once before.

  In how many different ways would history find to repeat itself? Fool though she was, Fiona wasn’t keen on finding out.

  But he was wearing her down with his persistence.

  Studiously, she ignored him, pacing the perimeter of the carriage. Looking down and about, she could see a small crowd of spectators gathered around the foundation of the Ferris Wheel and wondered desperately how long it would take to get them down.

  The carriage jerked forward only to stop again with a jolt. Aylesbury let her go as she turned to look out the window. “Is something wrong, do you suppose?”

  “There’s something very wrong,” he grumbled. “And since you seem to have nothing to say about it, then perhaps you will just listen.”

  As if she had a choice. In that carriage alone with him and no escape to be had, she was a captive audience.

  Aylesbury rolled the brim of his hat between his hands as he pondered where to begin. “You continue to hold this grudge against me. To harbor this resentment over the things I said and did. Though you said you cannot forgive me for it, you’ve yet to ask for an explanation.”

  “I know what happened, Harry. I was there,” she said, tightly. “I am willing to look past it. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Hell, no. It is not. You see only your side of it. That I was an ass, as I have already admitted and apologized for it.” Running one hand through his hair, Aylesbury slapped his hat against his thigh again. “Ah, Fiona, you haven’t a clue what a spot you had me in, do you? You were so young…”

  “Eighteen!”

  “Young enough,” Aylesbury said with a grimace. “As young as a sister I refused to see as a young woman. Admitting you were old enough to be courted would have been admitting that I should allow Piper the same as she had been begging me to. That I was certainly not prepared to do. Besides that, you were the only sister of men I admire and respect. To have dallied with you in any way, even if it was just a mild flirtation was bad-mannered to say the least. Each time I looked at you, I anticipated the beating I knew I deserved for the very shameless thoughts that were going through my mind. And they were quite immodest thoughts, Fiona. I wanted you right from the start.”

  Fiona stared at him disbelievingly. “Now
that’s a boatload of hogwash.”

  “It is the truth,” he said firmly, “though I refused to acknowledge it at the time. Especially when we first met that summer before. There you were just seventeen…”

  “Almost eighteen,” she corrected.

  “All right then,” the corner of his mouth kicked up in a half-grin. “Either way I felt like a degenerate for finding you attractive. Thankfully, for my own sanity, I left you behind when I returned to London. But when I returned, when I saw you again, it was like an arrow went straight through my heart. Even surrounded by the unruly lot of the MacKintosh clan…”

  “You always said I was the worst of the lot.”

  “Are you going to let me speak?” he asked with a raised brow. “Perhaps you were but you were also so incredibly lovely. It was all I could do to keep my distance from you. What would have preferred I do?”

  There were many things Fiona might have liked to happen differently. For the most part, those wishes all included Harry on his knee with a ring in hand and a promise on his lips. That hadn’t happened and what had happened was the complete opposite of what she had hoped for. Still, she could see his point. While he was an easygoing man, Aylesbury was also an honorable one. He wouldn’t look where he couldn’t touch…even when temptation was flung—with humiliating frequency—in his face. “Fine then,” she conceded. “I can understand the undesirable position I put you in.”

  “A position I am no longer in,” he said. “You’re older now and out in Society with the expectation of marriage. I’ll take on your brothers one after another if I have to. I’ll risk that friendship if needed as well because I want you for my own. I want to marry you.”

  Fiona stared at him, using the repeated jolting of the carriage as it stopped once again to take a moment to steady herself and her jumbled emotions. Her heart wanted to sing with joy at his words but Fiona held herself in check. They were just words. “You wanted to marry Moira, too, didn’t you? And by all accounts you wanted to marry Abby as well. How many others were there? How many others did you want to wed?”