Belmary House Book One Read online

  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.

  Chapter 17

  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.”

  Her voice became breathy on the last words, and her eyes had the dreamy quality of recalling something pleasant.

  “I remember as well,” he said.

  Even as a young girl, she’d been effortlessly beautiful and graceful, never a gangly or awkward moment. And she lit up when she was here, glad to be free of her overbearing father for a few hours or days, glad to have what she thought of as a family.

  “What do you remember?” she asked, leaning closer.

  He felt something splintering. Guilt, anger, despair, all those familiar friends tried to make him get up and leave, but the warmth of Serena, of her slightly parted lips and expectant look sent them all scattered to the winds. With her hand on his, and only inches from her pretty face, he smiled.

  “You were like the first tendrils of spring making their way out of the snow. You were— you are— like hope.”

  He pressed his lips against hers, beating back every recrimination that flooded his mind. He tasted a tear and pulled away to look at her, feeling like a cad.

  She grabbed his collar to keep him close, her eyes darkening. “Don’t you dare pity me, Kostya,” she said, lashes fluttering.

  He didn’t know what they were doing. He knew she was angry at Ashford, and as for himself, he was just so sick of feeling bad.

  “I don’t,” he said, and it was the truth.

  He might not have wanted her the way she wanted to be wanted, the way she deserved to be wanted, but he did want her. And he’d learned long ago that life was unfair. With a soft sigh, she kissed him again, pressing her body to his, and every thought disappeared.

  Chapter 18

  Ashford felt guilty, and he couldn’t figure out why. He only left before dawn because he wanted to get to Jeremy’s house as soon as possible. He certainly wasn’t sneaking away while Matilda was still safely asleep. God, she exhausted him. The amount of work he had to do at supper the last two nights to appease her and keep her smiling gave him a headache that wouldn’t let him sleep until the wee hours.

  He knew Kostya had been alarmed at his odd behavior, and it would be years before Serena forgave him for the out and out flirting he’d been doing with Matilda. It had been a momentary madness, brought on by the carefree fun he’d had with her while visiting the crofters. The fact that he hadn’t left the day before was because he still couldn’t shake the strange feeling her tears had caused him.

  The fact that he might have almost lost her support when she learned the whole sad story of his life affected him much more than it should have. It should have been a relief not to have her constant curiosity. She could stay safely with Kostya for the remainder of her time, while he went about his business unfettered. He certainly shouldn’t feel guilty about leaving her behind, since it was for her own good. He hoped she wouldn’t be too angry when he got back.

  He huffed and kicked his horse to a gallop, hoping to outrun his conflicted emotions. Why did he care at all what she thought of him? It had nearly caused his heart to stop when her tears started the first night they arrived.

  After all she’d been through he hadn’t seen her cry once, and then it was over not being able to trust him. He should have handed her a handkerchief and told her not to worry herself over things that didn’t concern her. It had taken a lot out of him to tell her so much about his life, and he still wasn’t sure why he had done it.

  His horse wasn’t having it so early in the morning and slowed to a trot. His muddled thoughts calmed a little as well, and he admitted he rather liked her constant questions. Even her few complaints were usually good natured and short-lived. The fact of the matter was, she made him think about things he’d gone over a hundred times in different ways. This was the first time he’d ever made one of the portal victims a companion— he swallowed hard, and reminded himself that she was no mere portal victim, but one of his own making, and he wondered how much insight he might have gained by spending more time with the others.

  He thought of the obnoxious teacher he had barely managed to get back to his own time before the Matilda snafu, and the complete lack of gratitude the man had displayed. The hysterical rants of most of the others. Not a one of them was ever grateful, no matter how
he went out of his way for them.

  No, this was going to be a first and last. He counted himself lucky that she was as tolerable as she was. Matilda was really far more than tolerable, he amended. When he thought ahead to the time she would leave, he got an empty feeling in his chest he didn’t understand, as if he missed her already. But how he could miss such a nuisance, he wasn’t sure. He would miss looking at her, and the way she always tried to get him to laugh. It amused him to keep a straight face to ruffle her, and then she would try harder until he gave in to her charms and let himself laugh.

  Now his lazy mount was walking again, and he regretted leaving in such a hurry, and not choosing a horse more wisely. He blamed Matilda for that, because if he’d seen her that morning and she had done any of the annoying little things he found harder and harder to resist, if her lower lip had gone the slightest bit pouty, if her eyes had widened at all, he’d have ordered the carriage ready and taken her with him. Which was madness, because it wasn’t safe, and he needed to get to Jeremy’s property as soon as possible.

  It was all he could do to keep from turning the horse around and fetching her. Was he worried about her or did he miss her company? And, dear God, had he actually told her to sew him a handkerchief? He was surprised she hadn’t hit him. And was he hoping she would do it? He had to have lost the last of his senses if he thought for a second she’d make him anything. She’d probably spend the next fortnight making Kostya miserable. He hoped she wouldn’t be too miserable herself.

  “Ah, daft,” he muttered, prodding the horse faster again. At this rate he’d never get there.

  ***

  A downpour made a two day journey into three and by the time he made it to Jeremy Kerr’s estate, both he and the horse were a bedraggled mess.