Not second guessing the urge as she felt it, she pushed her lips against his, hoping that she was not too forward and that she had not misinterpreted his intentions. When he inhaled sharply, she had a moment of panic, thinking that she’d read the situation entirely wrong. She should not have—
He cut off her thoughts with a swipe of his tongue against her lips, the sensation sending a thrill straight to her core. It was electric. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced and before she knew it, she was pressing harder into him, demanding more.
The duke threaded his fingers into the hair behind her neck and pulled her harder against him, this time his tongue dipping past her lips and into her mouth. She could not help the moan she let out as she clung to him like she was drowning and he was the only thing keeping her above water.
She was being led and followed willingly, happily. The sensations bursting through her mind, body, and soul were unlike anything she’d ever experienced and this was only kissing. She could not begin to imagine what lay beyond this realm.
He assaulted her tongue with his and once she was accustomed to it, she gave as good as she got, demanding from him and insisting he keep at it.
It was intoxicating. She was woozy from it, and when the carriage came to a jerking halt and she crashed forward against him, she looked up to find Nicholas Fairchild looking nearly as dazed as she felt.
“Your secrets are in danger,” he whispered to her, their eyes locked. “I will know every last part of you and each and every piece will be mine.”
She only gave a slight shake of her head before she pushed herself back to her own seat seconds before his footman opened the door and waited for her.
“I shall see you in three days, Tabitha,” Nicholas said cryptically and with a nod. “And then many more beyond that.”
She doubted it very much but gave him a quiet farewell before disembarking from the carriage and making her way into the shop. She had to wait until he was well and good away, so she took the opportunity to peruse the dresses and hats that she and Tillie had on display.
“I want that one, Mamma,” she heard the very distinct, very nasal sound of Frances’ voice giving a fit on the far side of the shop. It broke through the dreamy cloud that had surrounded Tabitha since she left Nicholas and his carriage. She froze and slunk back toward the door, desperate to escape before Ellora discovered her.
“I am not going to the Duchess of Stowe’s masquerade in a dress that I have been seen in before.” Frances’ fit was reaching a height now. “I refuse. I need a new gown, and I do not care how we get it.”
The store clerk was murmuring some soothing words, but Tabitha snuck a glance and saw Frances all but balled up on the floor in the midst of a fine temper tantrum. Her heart sank. How had they gotten the same invitation that she had? She turned the fine envelope over in her hand. It would be beyond risky to go now that her stepmother and stepsister were planning to attend, but the thought of not attending crushed her soul.
She pressed the invitation to her chest and hurried out of the store, suddenly more worried about running into Frances and Ellora than from another ride in the duke’s carriage. As if he had not made a strong enough impression on her the last few times they’d met, she was quite certain her lips would be full and bruised for days after that thorough introduction to kissing he’d given her.
And she wanted more. So much more.
Tabitha raced home, hoping to get there long before her family did so that she could stash her invitation, all the while wondering how she would find a gown in time. The ball was in just three days.
Chapter 13
Her answer came two days later, just as she and Tillie were sitting in the shop’s workroom, arguing over whether or not the entire idea was ludicrous.
“I shall be exposed,” Tabitha cried for the fourth time. “He will find out I am a nobody and feel betrayed.”
“You are not a nobody,” Tillie insisted. “You’re far from a nobody, and he seems to really like you for you!”
“What if I am discovered by Frances or Ellora? That would be disastrous and then it would ruin the business on top of that. I am so close to having enough funds to leave for Paris.”
“You worry too much,” Tillie said with a dismissive wave of her hand as she focused on her sketches in front of her. “I cannot do it. I cannot get this sketch right!”
She balled the paper up and threw it in the waste bin.
“When are we going to Rochester’s to find your gown?” she pressed Tabitha, who only shook her head.
“It is not happening,” Tabitha replied. “Not only will this be a risk, but I do not have the money to spend on a new gown!”
“Just a pity that I do not have something new for you,” Tillie continued, ignoring her friend. “My last new design went to Forester’s two weeks ago. I would have loved to have you wearing one of my gowns when the duke proposes to his mystery love.”
She sighed wistfully as Tabitha rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“It’s impossible, Tillie. You know that as well as I.”
“Nonsense. It’s very possible,” Tillie countered. She suddenly threw down the pen and the design she was working on. “Why did I not think of it before? I shall take in one of my dresses for you. It should not be too much work, not if I spend the next few hours on it.”
Tillie returned home as soon as possible to prepare the dress for Tabitha, leaving her in the workroom to daydream of dukes and masquerades. Tabitha was currently working on a mask for Frances, to match the dress she had found at Rochester’s.
Tillie returned the next morning with a gorgeous navy blue dress she had designed herself.
“Oh Tillie, how can I ever thank you!?” said Tabitha, holding the dress in front of her. Tillie had done a terrific job in taking in the dress here and there and she pushed Tabitha to try it on.
They were standing in front of the mirror in the workshop admiring Tabitha when Frances and Ellora walked in.
“My heavens!” cried Ellora. “Whatever do you have on and where are you going in it?”
“It is Tabitha’s ball gown,” said Tillie triumphantly. “And it is no business of yours where she shall wear it!”
“Tillie!” exclaimed Tabitha, shooting her friend a warning glare. “No, Ellora, I am simply trying on one of the newest designs for — for a friend of Tillie’s.”
“Do you not have orders to do? I say, you certainly do not have the time to be standing around mod—”
Ellora was interrupted when Frances came barreling into the room, stopping short when she saw Tabitha standing in front of them, looking stunning in the long gown.
“Oh Mother, that’s it! It’s perfect!”
Tabitha looked at her in confusion. “Whatever do you mean?”
“That’s the dress I shall wear to the masquerade tomorrow! It’s beautiful and will look so lovely on me.”
“I think not. This dress is on hold for my friend,” responded Tillie.
“You already have a gown for the masquerade,” said Ellora to Frances.
“But I want it, Mother!” whined Frances in her nasally tone, on the edge of a fit.
“Fine then, Frances. We shall buy it,” Ellora said.
“But, I—” Tillie tried desperately to keep the dress from Frances while keeping Tabitha’s secret.
“I will not take no for an answer,” said Ellora to Tillie, pulling out her pocketbook. “And I will call Rochester’s directly to advise them of my purchase.”
Tabitha angrily began taking off the dress. “Here,” she said, handing it to Frances. “It’s yours.”
She re-dressed hurriedly when Ellora, who had been eyeing her with suspicion, added, “We had some new orders come in Tabitha. I expect you will have them completed by the day after tomorrow.”
“You cannot be serious!” Tabitha exclaimed. “When did they come in? That is an extremely short deadline. They cannot expect us to—”
“But they do. I know
it may mean for a late night of work tomorrow, but I do know how much you enjoy it,” she said with a sly grin.
Tillie began to protest but stopped when Tabitha gave her a quick shake of her head and motioned her to follow her out of the room.
* * *
“I’m so sorry about your dress, Tillie,” said Tabitha when they were out of earshot.
“Oh, make no mind of that,” Tillie replied. “I will arrange everything with Rochester’s to receive payment for it. What we need to determine is your gown for the ball.”
“It’s over, Tillie,” said Tabitha.
Tillie did everything she could to convince Tabitha to attend the masquerade. She begged, pleaded, sent Jennings for another dress, but it was to no avail.
“I think it’s pretty clear I am not meant to attend this masquerade,” said Tabitha. “I do not have a dress to wear, I have multiple orders to complete, my stepmother and stepsister will be there, and besides all of that, the duke is expecting Tabitha Kenmore, and I am done with lying to him. When he finds out the truth, our time together will be over. It is easier if I do not attend in the first place.”
Tillie continued her arguments when a knock at the door interrupted them. The door opened and Mr. McEwan stepped inside, holding a large garment bag.
“Miss Blackmore, Miss Andrews,” he greeted the woman as he hung the dress up on a hook in the corner of the shop. “Lovely to see you again. I am sorry I cannot stay. The household is in quite the furor because of the party this evening. My wife sends this and her regards and cannot wait to see you. Good day!”
And just like that, he was gone. Tillie didn’t hesitate and jumped to look at what Lorna had sent. Pulling the gown free of its casings, she gasped at the gorgeous golden, shimmery silk the housekeeper had managed to not only find, size, and clean, but have delivered to Tabitha on the eve of the ball.
“It is settled. It’s a sign!” Tillie said happily as she hopped around the workbench and started gathering the supplies needed for a mask to match the gown. “You were the one who talked about fate. Well Tabitha, here it is, speaking to you directly in the form of this beautiful ball gown. You are going. Now hide this dress before your blasted stepsister sees it.”
Tabitha waited the space of a second before springing into action herself.
Chapter 14
“Alex!”
Alexander cringed at the urgency in his cousin’s voice ringing through the open door of his London townhouse, as Nicholas strode up the stairs and past the butler who hurried to allow him into the house.
“Nick! What a surprise,” said Alex, entering the hall. “Lovely to see you. Come in, old chap, sit down.”
“Tell me the truth, and spare no details.” Nicholas stood, filling the doorway, intent on his cousin.
“Please, come in, you’ll cause a scandal,” Alexander replied, standing and pulling Nicholas into the house before shutting the door behind him. “Come into the sitting room.”
Alexander led him down the hallway and into the room, sitting in his favorite broad chair in the corner of the room while practically placing Nicholas on the settee.
“Now, whatever is this all about? You seem quite beside yourself.”
“I feel as if you know already,” said Nicholas, leaning forward on his elbows. “Tabitha. Your ‘cousin,’ or so you say. Something is not right, and I insist you tell me the truth. This girl is not from society. She’s not practiced in their ways, she—”
“I told you, she has been traveling—”
“Traveling or not, a member of the peerage would have taught her the art of conversing with a duke. She would be more subdued, more practiced, less — interesting. She would not be sitting alone in a chocolate shop or traveling alone, on foot, in an alley. I care not where she is from, but I must know the truth before tomorrow.”
Alexander inclined his head as he studied his cousin’s intensity, knowing the game was up. “I feel that this is not my story to tell, cousin. I must urge you, however, whatever you find out, do not blame Tabitha. This was simply a job, a circumstance she found herself in before she was quickly over her head.”
Alexander proceeded to describe the situation to Nicholas, from the time Lorna had cornered him into agreeing to play act through the party as Tabitha’s cousin, to her nearly being found out and forced to leave the Fairchild home.
“Besides that, I cannot tell you much,” he said. “As to her actual background, where she can be found, and what her thoughts and feelings towards you are, that I do not know. She did mention schooling in France, but I believe, as you already know, you can still find her in London for a time.”
Nicholas looked at his cousin in confusion.
“Why would you not tell me this? Why would Lorna not tell me this? You know I would do anything for my mother.”
“You hate the games of the ton, Nicholas, we all know that. You would have disagreed with this little plot, would you not have?”
“Of course, but—”
“Exactly. It was best to keep it from you. Tabitha was to leave when necessary and you would be none the wiser. Tell me, are you cross with her or do you feel as you did before my revelation?”
“I am unsure, cousin,” answered Nicholas. “I valued her honesty, her openness, the fact I could trust her. That may now be broken. If I determine she is the same person I have thought her to be, if her character, her values remain the same, then I still feel there are none other like her, and no one else for me.”
“In that case, I have a suggestion. Speak with Lorna. She orchestrated this charade, and had Bernard watching Tabitha for weeks prior. She can tell you much more than I can.”
“In that case, I will be on my way.”
* * *
Nicholas returned home and went immediately to Lorna’s office. He strode in without knocking, startling the housekeeper.
“Nicholas! My goodness, child, but you gave me a fright. You look quite serious, whatever is the matter?”
Nicholas shut the door behind him then took a seat at the stool before Lorna’s desk.
“Lorna, you must tell me all you know of Tabitha Kenmore,” he said.
“Oh, Alexander’s cousin,” she answered, raising an eyebrow at him. “Are you still thinking of the girl?”
“Thinking of her? Yes, Lorna, nearly every waking minute. She is a mystery. Like fate, she continues to appear but then disappears just as quickly. I know she is not Alexander’s cousin, that it was all a charade to protect my mother. I forgive you for keeping it from me, and I understand why, but you must tell me more. Who is she? Where is she from?”
Lorna sighed and rubbed at her forehead, the way he recalled her doing when he’d been a child and she had felt unsure of her next words.
In his heart, he believed Tabitha would be the perfect partner for him, but he knew nothing about her. Could they both withstand the gossip and the rumors that would arise and assault them from the peerage? They would have many difficulties to face should they stay together, though they were both strong individuals.
But first he needed to know about her… to know who she was so he would know exactly how insurmountable the hurdles might prove. “Just… tell me the truth, Lorna,” he implored.
Lorna’s expression turned dreamy as she gave in to her well-known romantic heart over her practical side, and she began telling Nicholas what she knew.
“Tabitha Blackmore is the daughter of a baronet, who became a successful milliner. When he passed, she continued to grow the business and has quite a talent. She came to our attention as she took the order to create hats for your mother. Bernard saw her deal with difficult clients and was impressed. Her stepmother, who I believe is a rather trying woman, owns the shop, but Tabitha essentially operates it.”
Lorna continued on, telling Nicholas of how Tabitha came to be involved in the plot to protect the duchess.
“I do not know her story beyond when she left that night. For that, you must ask her yourself. Or, should you req
uire some background first, I suggest you speak with Miss Matilda Andrews.”
Nicholas bade Lorna good day and continued on his quest, this time to find Tabitha’s friend, Tillie.
* * *
Tillie was frowning over the design in front of her when the butler announced she had a visitor. “A visitor? But who would be calling at this hour...” her voice fell away as she looked up to find Nicholas standing in front of her. She guessed at why he was there and was not entirely sure of what to say to him.
She could see why Tabitha referred to him as an Adonis. His dark hair, dark eyes, strong jaw, and fine physique were captivating, but there was something rather serious and stoic about him. Particularly in this instant. He looked at her intensely.
“Matilda Andrews?”
“Yes, Your Grace, but please call me Tillie. Everyone does.”
“Tillie, then. I must speak to you.”
“Please come in.” She invited him to take a seat. “May I provide you with a refreshment of some any kind?”
“No, but thank you. I must speak to you about Tabitha.”
“Tabitha?” she feigned innocence.
“Yes, Tabitha, your friend.”
“So you must know, then, that—”
“That Tabitha Kenmore is Tabitha Blackmore, a milliner and not a member of the peerage? Yes, I am aware of the situation. I assume this is why she has been avoiding me since she left my home some weeks ago, because she did not want me to find the truth. I had thought her honest, trustworthy. But she has been hiding this from me since she stepped through my door and every moment since.”
Tillie’s emotions turned from guarded to passionate as she rose from her seat to defend her friend.
“There is one thing you must know of Tabitha Blackmore, Your Grace.” Leaning on the desk in front of her, she narrowed in on his face. “She is honest, determined, and the person I uphold with the utmost respect. She has endured extremely trying times with grace and poise, and if you think her not good enough for you, then you are sorely mistaken.”
Super Summer Set of Historical Shorts Page 79