Nothing But Time (14 page)

“
You bet it was. 
I’d love to do it,” she told him firmly and with a nod, the earl turned away heading back to the mansion.  “But still, I’m curious.  Why me?”

Harrowby turned back for a moment and Kate could see sadness mixed with hope shining in his eyes.  “That conversation you just had with my nephew was the first time Nathan has spoken to anyone at all since his father died.” 

Kate was so blown away by the earl’s words that it took a moment for her to gather
her thoughts
.  W
hen she did, she ran behind
him,
grabbing his arm.  “Whoa, whoa,
whoa!
 
Are you shitting me?”

Ope
nly t
aken aback by her crude word usage,
Harrowby
merely stared at Kate in surprise.  “I beg your pardon?”

Waving away his astonishment, Kate huffed impatiently.  “Oh, you get my meaning! 
You can’t just throw something like that out there and just walk away! 
Are you saying Nate hasn’t spoken at all since his dad died?  Geez, Brand, I’m not qualified for something like this!  That boy needs a psychologist or a therapist or something.”

Understanding the gist of her words, Harrowby frowned severely.  “He is n
either
mad nor a candidate for Bedlam,
Miss Kallastad
.”

Familiar with the term,
she just
shook her head.  “I’m not saying he’s crazy, Brand, but if his father’s death was so traumatic for him that he hasn’t even spoken to his own family since then, I just think he needs someone who’s trained in that sort of thing to help him.”

“I don’t know about your Minnesota, but there is no one here who is trained to help the grieving,” the earl said flatly.  “But Nate has taken to you, has spoken to you and smiled for the first time in months.  You are his therapy.”

“Are you friggin’ kidding me?”

“You
ask these nonsensical questions
often,”
Harrowby
frowned.  “Your sarcasm tells me that you’re not truly asking if I jest and
,
I am sure you can tell, I do not.  Why do you insist on asking?”

Kate just shook her hea
d releasing a huff of laughter…
the
n the
tension abat
ed
.  “It’s an expression of disbelief, I suppose.
  I’m sure you have all kinds of sayings here I would know nothing about.”

The earl
shook his head
,
allowing a small smile.  “You sometimes seem very
juvenile
to me, Kate, even
though I have seen maturity in
you.”

Kate twisted her lips.  “I’m a child of Generation Me, Brand.  It’s just how we are.”

“Generation Me?” he echoed.  “What in the world is that?”

“It’s part of the typical American labeling policy, having to
compartmentalize
everybody and everything,” she explained as she stooped to pick up the fishing gear from the ground
, though she was still trying to wrap her head around the bombshell Brand had delivered
.  “Like the Baby Boomers or Generation X.  We just like to be able to stick a label on a whole generation and say, this is who and what you are.  End of story.”

She could tell by his expression that
Harrowby
didn’t really understand any of what she was saying, but
he
helped her pick up the remaining gear and
they
turned back to the mansion.  “And you are
a part of
this
Generation Me.  What exactly does that entail?”

“Well, generally
,
we’re entitled, self-important, easily bored and direct.”

Harrowby snorted in amusement before recovering himself.  “That
you are.”

Kate grinned up at him as they walked side by side.  “The only parts I’ll cop to are the direct and easily bored parts… though I will admit that perhaps I might
be just a wee bit egotistical…
”

“Egotistical?”
Harrowby
interrupted then.  “What is that?”

Kate frowned up at him, puzzled by the question before her mental light
bulb lit up.  “O
h, that’s right, no Freud yet.  Self-important
or… narcissistic
.”  Kate
frowned at her own words.  “Not sure I like that too much but anyway…
You see, kids
… children in my generation a
re raised to think that they can do anything they want,
have
anything they want. 
We’re
catered to and
spoon-fed on self-confidence from the moment we can walk. 
Most don’t seem to think they need to even actually work to get
those things
and expect a hundred K a year and a BMW right out of college.  A
t least my parents got me straight on at least one level.  I do work hard.  I’ve worked very hard to get where I wanted to go.”

Though once again taken aback by Kate’s unusual words and speech patterns – which
Harrowby
could only assume were an American idiosyncrasy –
he
didn’t feel the need to argue with
Kate’s general assessment of her own self-worth.  G
iven the education she’d received, he could easily imagine that Kate had
indeed
worked hard to finish her degree when few men made those same accomplishments
.  “It must be the result of this
industrial revolution that is gripping both our countries,” he commented.  “Seeing others achieve so much makes many believe they can do the same.”

Swallowing back a laugh, Kate just nodded pleasantly.  “I’m sure that’s exactly why we are the way we are.”

“Why do I
once more
get the feeling you’re laughing at me?”
Harrowby
asked
,
studying Kate as they walked along. 
He had not noticed the gown she wore when all his focus had been on her interaction with his nephew
earlier
… along with the sight of her long and inappropriately unbound hair rippling in the summer breeze.  The dress was lacking in detail, but more than suitable for a governess or one of equal standing.  It had surprised him to realize that Kate wasn’t as lacking in funds as he might have thought and he wondered how she might afford such a piece of finery.  Perhaps her circumstances had once and recently been much different.  In either case, Harrowby had to admit he liked it better on her than the bland gray uniform he had seen her in during the week. 

Now she walked by his side, h
er stride was long and mannish
.  H
er free arm swung freely as she moved.
 
Her hair fluttered along behind her as the breeze caught it now and then.  Glancing lower, he saw h
er breasts mov
ing
under the fabric of her bodice telling
Harrowby
she wasn’t wearing a corset either.  What a puzzle she was!

“Oh, Brand, I would never laugh at you,” she assured him cheerfully
, recalling his attention
.

“Yet I can’t help but feel that you are,” he insisted.
 

“It’s not laughter so
much as…I don’t know, amazement?
”

Kate
glanced
up at him from the corner of her eye.  Despite Brand’s rugged, masculine beauty, there was a definite starchiness of behavior that Kate had never before seen in any man in her entire life.  Though it definitely
had not
been on display the first night they’d met in the librar
y, this distant correctness he’d
shown in his office and again today was interesting to say the least.
Intriguing. 
It was if there were two sides to him and the stuffy earl definitely liked to be in charge.
Maybe it was the aristocrat in him, Kate wasn’t certain. 
Even though she oddly enjoyed it,
all
she knew was that she was looking forward to
seeing that more behaviorally rumpled Brand once again.

Aware that he was waiting with polite patience for her answer, Kate went on with a shrug,
“We just come from two completely different cultures, more than you’ll ever know. 
There are things here that just rub me the wrong way, some that make me want to cry and others that just make me shake my head in disbelief.”

“Such as?”

“
Beyond
basic
plumbing issues, I
’d
say the most interesting is
the fact that you’re a bit
of a
sexist.”

“Sexist?” he repeated blankly.

“Chauvinist
,” Kate amended, then frowned. 
“Are you familiar with the term?
”

“Unfortunately, I am.” 
Harrowby
stopped and turned to face her.  “I cannot say that I appreciate your implication, however.”

“I
’m not implying anything, Brand.
”
S
he shook her head but a wide grin lit up her face. 
From his frown, Kate could tell the earl was
firmly
at his mental helm.  Kate was glad.  She was sort of enjoying these opportunities to shake him out of it.  “I’m just telling you flat out!
  Oh, face it!”  Kate laughed and hooked an arm through his, urging
him forward once more.  “Your
whole disbelief that I, a mere woman, might be well educated?  But don’t take it
personal
, Bran
d, all the men here are probably
chauvinists
.  I
t
just isn’t a part of your culture yet to think of women as equals.”

Watching
Harrowby
nearly
gag
on her words, Kate only laughed harder.  “See?  You can barely take the t
hought of it without nearly chok
ing on it.”

“I wasn’t choking on the thought of equality,” he argued
though Kate could plainly see he was trying to smother his disgruntlement
.

“Weren’t you?” she teased
, nudging him in the side with her elbow
.

“Perhaps I was more astonished that you would think so poorly of me,”
Harrowby
replied
,
stopping again and drawing her out of sight just outside the tall
,
brick
retaining wall
that
marked
the
end of the long
flight of
flagstone stairs that led to the terrace
d lawns
above.
“I truly believe that you could do anything you set your mind to,
despite
your gender, Kate.”

“Ahh, poor Brand,” Kate
affected a mournful sigh, her eyes sparkled brightly.
“I know you think you’re a progressive thinker, but the very fact that you had to add the ‘despite your gender’ part just goes to show how deep the sexism runs.”

Though he looked prepared to argue,
Harrowby
deflated suddenly, a sheepish – and utterly charming – grin emerg
ing
instead. 
Ahh, she had lured his
more agreeable side out to play – K
ate smiled at the thought.

“Perhaps I do have an ingrained preconception
about women in general,” he admitt
ed, “but I’ve never met another woman like you, Kate.  There’s something about you that makes me rethink everything I’ve ever known.”

Touched by his softly spoken words, Kate lifted a hand to caress his whisker-roughened cheek tenderly before she even realized what she was doing.  Though he seemed surprised by the gesture, he didn’t move away as Kate stroked his cheek and curled her fingers to rake her nail
s
lightly over the scruff.  “You actually like me, don’t you, Brand?” she asked boldly, knowing that such a forthright question could do nothing but startle him ev
en more.  “Just as I am, I mean.
  You don’t want to pigeon-hole me into what y
ou think a woman should be like.
”

“
A futile task if there ever was one.”  Kate smiled at his teasing and was rewarded with his admission, “I do like you, Kate.
”

Harrowby
did, he realized.  Perhaps too much.
  It had been a long week since he’d spoken to her, but he had discreetly followed her activities as the days went by. 

She was fascinating.  Fascinating to watch with her lithe movements as she walked or worked, that long tail of hair swinging freely behind her.  Fascinating to listen to with her odd accent that flattened her tone and elongated most vowels.  Harrowby would wager that he hadn’t heard a hard ‘T’ sound emerge from her lips in any conversation he’d over heard.  Instead words like ‘better’ became ‘bedder’,
‘later’ was ‘laider’, but she laughed an
d
teased in such a friendly fashion that it was hard not to find her engaging if not a tad mystifying.
  It was as if she never met a stranger.  She treated everyone with the same comfortable acceptance.