Belmary House Book One (21 page)

“But that paragraph disappeared, or he never saw it in the first place,” she said out loud. It didn’t make her feel any better.

She sighed, knowing she had to get to sleep so she could wake up in time to keep Ashford from leaving without her. When Nora had come in to help her get ready for bed, she’d made her promise to wake her before dawn, but she still wished she had her phone to set an alarm of her own. The wealthy folks in this era didn’t seem overly concerned about time, as there wasn’t even a clock in this room. Tormented by thoughts of Ashford having Serena all to himself and what they might be doing, she finally fell asleep.

***

The sun was well past the first crack of dawn when she opened her eyes, a blinding slice of light shining through the slightly open curtains telling her instantly that Nora had betrayed her. Ashford was probably miles away by now, but she still hurried into her gown, dragged a brush through her rat’s nest hair, and flung herself downstairs.

A servant told her where breakfast was being served, and didn’t look alarmed at her appearance, so with outward calm, she entered the room as demurely as she could, begging herself to not start bellowing when she found out Ashford had left without her, as he promised he would.

Serena sat at a round table, daintily nibbling at a piece of toast. Kostya sat across from her, and looked up with a welcoming smile, gesturing to the buffet table behind him. She forced herself to return the smile, determined not to be a giant baby and a bad houseguest to boot and looked to the table laden with delicious looking foods. Standing at the far end, filling a plate, was Ashford, looking slightly abashed.

She felt absurd tears stinging at her eyes, she was so grateful he hadn’t left. Now she could try and convince him she’d be perfectly safe to go with him, and wouldn’t have to be without him for the next two weeks. Up until that point she hadn’t realized just how much she hadn’t wanted to be without him. Feeling silly, she blinked and rushed over to him.

“You’re still here,” she breathed happily, then got flustered when he stepped closer to her. “Oh, wow, look at all this food.”

He laughed and handed her a plate, his jacket sleeve brushing against her wrist. She loaded it up with eggs and sausage and pastries to hide her sudden discomfort at his nearness.

“Yes, well, there are a few things I need to go over with Kostya about the estate,” he said.

She looked over to see Kostya raise his eyebrow and she felt a burst of happiness that it might be an excuse.

“Is that so?” he asked, pushing a dish of berries closer to Serena, who looked suddenly interested in the conversation. “Then you’ll be visiting the crofters? It’s been quite a while. They may not recognize you.”

Ashford made a sour face and Tilly almost clapped, certain he’d made it up to stay a little longer. With her? To give her a chance to convince him to let her go? It didn’t matter. He was still there.

“Nonsense, I’m like family to them, so of course I’m going to visit them all.” He frowned at Serena’s snort, then turned to Tilly. “Miss Jacobs, you’ll have to push back your time with the dressmaker, as I’ll need you to take notes.”

“Certainly, sir. Since I’m your secretary,” she answered, bobbing a curtsy.

He grabbed her shoulder and dragged her back up, trying to suppress his laughter. Okay, so she’d gone too far with the curtsy. She nodded and took a seat at the table, unable to stop beaming while she ate.

She knew by the lemon-sucking look on Serena’s face, and Kostya’s inability to meet her eye that neither one of them believed for a second that she was Ashford’s secretary. Since Kostya knew the truth about her time displacement she didn’t feel too disreputable, and a little devil on her shoulder wanted Serena to believe whatever in the heck her imagination conjured up, after the sleepless night she’d suffered due to her own imagination.

They headed out as soon as they were finished eating, Tilly assuring him she’d be fine to ride, wanting to enjoy the crisp, sunny weather after their long, rainy journey in the carriage. The last time she’d ridden a horse was in tenth grade when she worked as a counselor at her old summer camp. They’d taken a four mile trail ride every day so she thought she could handle it, but asked for an easy horse just in case.

“The things I do for you, Matilda,” he said, helping her mount her ancient nag.

She blushed, and was glad he messed with her stirrup so he wouldn’t see. “I’m awfully glad you’re staying another day,” she said. “Do you really dislike visiting the crofters, though?”

“Not at all, but it’s a bit of a long ride to see them all. I wanted to make sure you were acclimated to the estate before I left, so I guess this is as good a way as any to do it.”

“You could just take me with you,” she suggested.

He ignored that and mounted a much more spry looking grey horse with a distinguished black mane and tail that seemed perfectly matched to him. She admired his thigh muscles as they squeezed the horse’s side while he expertly pulled it around to face their direction. She prodded meekly with her heels until Ashford rolled his eyes and pulled up beside her, patting her leg.

“Show her you mean it, she’s a bit stubborn. But I’d rather you have trouble getting her to go than getting her to stop.”

She gave her horse a more meaningful kick, stunned at the kindness he showed her, and unable to speak for a moment as they rode out across the estate. He rode ahead of her, occasionally pointing things out and sometimes sharing a bit of his past with her, quick stories of how he and his sister used to swim in the lake, or how many fish they used to catch. They stopped at the top of a hill and he pointed out the various cottages sprinkled throughout the land in the distance.

She was having such a lovely time enjoying the scenery and his bizarrely friendly company that she didn’t even mind that she was in for hours more riding. In fact, as sore and worn out as she was at the end of the day, she was disappointed to get off the horse when they finally made it back home late in the evening.

The crofters had all shared food with them, and the wives or daughters loaded her up with small gifts to take home, honey or dried herbs or loaves of bread, while Ashford did inspections and listened to complaints or suggestions.

“Do you wish you’d stayed and had your fitting?” he asked, as she was unable to hold in a mild grunt of pain when her feet hit the ground.

She stretched and shook out her aching legs. “I haven’t had so much fun in a long time,” she said honestly. “It’ll take a while to get used to riding a horse regularly again, but the fresh air and company was such a nice change. I’m used to sitting in a tiny lab all day, staring at a screen.”

She felt guilty thinking it, but being trapped in the early nineteenth century was shaping up to be a better vacation than she could have dreamed.

“What does that look on your face mean?” he asked, tipping her chin up with his finger and frowning down at her. “It doesn’t match your words.”

She smiled ruefully. “I just feel guilty for enjoying myself while Dex is probably crazy with worry, and poor Emma…” She shrugged. There was nothing she could do about it and none of it was her fault.

He told her essentially the same thing and took her arm to help her walk back to the house. Even though she wasn’t in agony from the long day riding, she leaned against him with a smile. Who was this new and wonderful Ashford?

“I really will have to leave at first light tomorrow,” he said when they reached the back door. “I’ll get the information as quickly as I can, then we can be on our way back to London.”

She stopped before he could open the door, or before a servant realized they were out there and showered Ashford with attention. She turned to him and slipped her arm from his, resting her hands lightly on his chest, her heart pounding a little harder at her brazenness and at the feel of his hard muscles under her palms.

“Just take me with you,” she said quietly, looking at his shirt collar since she was unable to meet his eyes.

He sighed, wrapping his hands around hers and setting her slightly away from him. “Too dangerous. Were you being so agreeable today to try to change my mind about letting you go?”

“I’m always agreeable,” she countered with a huff, to hide the sense of rejection she felt. “Were you being so agreeable to try and keep me from raising a stink about being left behind?”

He laughed, and squeezed her hands before letting them go. They dropped to her sides, and she looked up at him, expecting him to have his trademarked Ashford look of disdain, but instead he looked questioningly down at her. He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“I lied earlier. I very much dislike riding out over the estate. But seeing you enjoy it made it bearable. In fact, I had a lovely time today, Matilda.”

She groaned, even as she felt a grin spread across her face. “How am I supposed to argue with you when you say things like that?”

He grinned back at her, smoothing her hair as he reached past her for the door. “You’re not,” he said.

Kostya stood by the window as Serena and several maids inspected the ballroom. She was still determined to put on her daft ball in Ashford’s honor, though it was clear to anyone who had eyes that Ashford would rather eat hot coals than be subjected to such a thing, and wanted nothing more than to be on his way back to London as soon as he gathered the information he thought he needed.

The slight stirring of hope Kostya had felt the night before when Tilly had innocently blurted everything she knew had hurt deeply, and he’d had to work hard to squelch it. He’d give Ashford until the end of the year-long mourning period to play his mad games and then put a stop to it.

Watching Serena flitting to and fro like a hummingbird helped ease his turmoil, and he nodded absently whenever she threw out a suggestion or idea. Of course she could do anything she wanted, invite anyone, move the furniture or set it on fire for all he cared, as long as someone around the place was happy.

Outside the window he noticed Ashford and Tilly had returned and were slowly ambling toward the house from the stables. He frowned as he watched them smiling and laughing with each other, wondering what the nature of their relationship was. He couldn’t see Ashford getting involved with anyone who’d come through the house, his brother-in-law had far too much responsibility for that. But the poor man needed some sort of companionship, get his head out of that tattered notebook of his, into the real world.

His frown turned into a smile as Ashford took Tilly’s hand. The young lady was forward and awkward, but she also seemed honest and kind, and anyone who looked could tell she liked Ashford at least a little.

Serena snuck up on him and he tried to pull the curtain to keep her from seeing, but it was too late and she stood beside him gazing down at the expressively happy couple. For that was exactly what they looked like: a couple.

“What were you saying about the fireplaces, Serena?” he asked, trying to lead her away from the window. He couldn’t bear it if her busy hands were stilled and her smile driven away by what she saw below.

“He’s never brought a woman here before,” she said, her voice hard. “I don’t think he would insult you by bringing a mere mistress to his family home.”

“I’m certain it’s nothing more than what he says it is,” Kostya said, flinching under her withering glance.

“Oh, are you?” she asked disdainfully.

Her fists clenched and tears sprang to her eyes. He quickly dismissed the maids and tried once again to get her to look away from Ashford and Tilly, who now stood very close together.

“I don’t understand,” she said in a tiny voice.

He didn’t know what to say to her, how to make her stop obsessing over Ashford. It wasn’t as if the ship had sailed, but it had never even been close to port. Camilla had teased her mercilessly behind her back for harboring her lifelong crush, and while he had thought his wife almost cruel sometimes, it was clear that Ashford never loved her.

In every other aspect, Serena was an intelligent woman, but her heart wouldn’t allow her to see what she should have seen long ago. Kostya couldn’t bear the pain in her eyes. He was so desperately sick of sadness.

“Let me take you to your room,” he said, slipping his hand around her elbow and leading her away. She blindly followed him to the chamber she used and stood dejectedly in the doorway. A stab of anger at her uncharacteristic weakness almost made him leave her there, but then she blinked up at him with her dewy blue eyes and he was overcome with pity.

“Shall I order you some tea?” he asked, ushering her inside and to the armchair.

She patted her hair and sniffed. “I’m making such a fool of myself, am I not, Kostya? How can you put up with me? You must be a saint.”

“Not a saint, merely your good friend.”

Leaning back in the chair, she sighed. “I’m terribly embarrassed right now.”

“Shall I leave you alone?”

He didn’t want to go. As miserable as she was, he wanted to be near her. He thought if he could make her happy, perhaps he’d be rewarded. Perhaps a little bit would rub off on him.

“I don’t want you to go,” she said, sitting forward suddenly. She grabbed his hand and pulled him down to be level with her. “You really are a good friend to me. You’ve always been. I remember the first time I saw you, when you came to live here.”