Authors: Elizabeth Boyce
Tags: #Romance, #General, #Historical, #Fiction
“You’ve just married the biggest stack of blunt this side of the Exchequer,” the grating, reedy voice proclaimed.
Ethan staunchly ignored him.
“I’ve still got a pile of notes with your name scrawled all over them. Now that you’ve the means and then some — ”
“How much?” Ethan ground out. He turned a glacial stare on Ficken, who cleared his throat and shifted.
“Sixty-five hundred.” Ficken swallowed; the lump in his throat bobbed down and then up again. He shrugged and affected an air of long suffering. “I should hate to sell them notes to a lender, but a man deserves what he’s due, I say.”
Ethan leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs at the ankle. “Mr. Ficken,” he said in a bored drawl, “I do hate to be put in the position of illuminating a deficiency on your part, but I wouldn’t like your ignorance to cause you undue difficulty.”
Ficken’s brows drew together. “Whaddya mean?”
It was nice to see the uppity mushroom squirming for a change. Ethan’s lip twitched. “What I mean, my chap, is that gentlemen settle their debts with other gentlemen first and foremost. For one so firmly latched onto the teat of the privileged class, you exhibit a shocking lack of insight.”
Ficken’s face darkened. “Now see ’ere, Thorburn. These days, I’m a
gentleman
every bit as much as any of yer cronies. Soon’s I buy m’self some land, won’t you nor anyone else be able to deny — ”
In one swift motion, Ethan was across the table, his fist tangled in the limp lapel of Ficken’s cheap suit. “All the money in the world won’t buy you what you want,” he growled. The butcher shrank back, sinking into the voluminous coat. “No matter how much wealth you fling about, you’ll always be on the fringe — too jumped-up for your old world, and never good enough for mine. You’re a poseur, and you always will be.”
Ficken’s mouth worked soundlessly.
Ethan blinked, then tossed the man to the floor as though flicking an insect from his hand.
The butcher scrambled to his feet, wiping the saggy knees of his breeches, and then his sleeves. He placed his hat on his head and tugged the brim, concealing his beady eyes in shadow. “Be that as it may, milord, you’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that.” The gloomy, smoke-filled gaming pit swallowed his retreating form.
After he disappeared, Ethan poured himself another drink. He industriously set about becoming blindingly drunk, hoping that by morning he’d have forgotten that from the instant he launched himself across the table until he released the man, he hadn’t been talking to Ficken at all, but to his beautiful, scheming wife.
Miss Cuthbert, the new headmistress of the freshly dubbed King’s Cross Vocational School for Young Ladies, cast a dubious expression at Lily. She hovered on the other side of the desk in Lily’s new office, a stack of papers clutched to her chest in her work-worn, capable hands.
Lily scooted her chair over a bit. “I’m quite serious, Miss Cuthbert. Please, come ’round and join me.” As if to punctuate the remark, a hammer pounded home in a nearby room.
The middle-aged woman set the papers on the desk and brought a chair around while wearing a guarded expression, as though awaiting the punch line of Lily’s jest. Lily wrinkled her brow and shook her head at Miss Cuthbert’s suspicion. It had always felt natural for Lily to sit beside her father when going over business matters, but it seemed not everyone found the gesture as reassuring as she.
The unease in the woman’s eyes put Lily in mind of how her husband had looked at her this morning when she’d joined him for breakfast. What else was she supposed to do? He was the one up unusually early — and of course Lily had to exercise good manners. It didn’t hurt that her breath had hitched in her throat at the sight of him in his dove gray morning coat. Why couldn’t people just trust her good intentions?
“Now then,” she began when the headmistress settled herself, determined to put Ethan out of mind for the time being, “tell me about the progress you’ve made on tutors.”
Miss Cuthbert nodded once, a firm motion of her silver-streaked head. “Yes, my lady. As you can see,” she said, pulling a paper from her pile, “I’ve received quite a few letters regarding our various positions. Here are the names, and those are the references to go through.”
Lily watched Miss Cuthbert peruse the list. The woman seemed to contemplate each name, weighing her choices. While it remained to be seen how Miss Cuthbert would perform once the school was up and running, Lily was thus far pleased with her first hire.
Heavy footsteps in the hallway preceded a knock on the door.
“Enter,” Lily called.
The door opened, admitting a man covered in plaster dust and wood shavings. He took one look at the neat office and its two very clean inhabitants, and stayed in the doorway. When he ducked his head, a shower of white particles slid from his cap to Lily’s rug. “Beggin’ your pardon, milady.”
“What can I do for you?”
The large man shifted in his scuffed shoes, the color of which were eradicated by drifts of dust and dirt. “Things are goin’ along well downstairs, milady, it’s jus’ we came to this part on the plan for one of the rooms, and I wasn’t sure what it means, is all.”
Lily tilted her head. “Which room would that be?”
“Well, milady, the architect’s note says ‘bath-room,’ with some lines comin’ out the wall, and me and the lads don’t know what to do with all that.”
“It’s exactly what it says — a bath-room.”
A look of consternation passed over his face. “You mean a whole room jus’ for taking a bath?”
She sighed. This was the third time this week she’d had to explain the concept. Lily was disappointed that those around her did not seem as willing as she to embrace architectural innovations. “Yes, a whole room just for taking a bath. With a dozen girls living in one house, the kitchen boiler might do nothing but heat bathwater all day. It is much more sensible to have a bath-room with its own supply of heated water.”
The laborer’s thoughtful eyes rolled to the ceiling, his mouth slack.
“It is quite efficient,” Miss Cuthbert contributed.
Lily smirked. Just a few days ago, the woman had railed against the idea, citing what she was sure were prohibitive costs and waste of space.
“Well … ” the man responded. “I s’pose it’s your place and you ken do as you want with ’er, but I can’t make heads nor tails of them plans.”
“You don’t have to,” Lily snapped. “The architect will be here on Thursday to oversee the bath-room himself, since pipes will have to be laid and … ” She made an exasperated sound. “Don’t fret over it, all right? Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I have other things to — Good God, what are you doing here?”
Ethan’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “And a very good day to you, m’dear.” He glanced sideways at the dusty fellow beside him, who shrank back from the impeccably dressed nobleman.
Entering the small office as if it were his own study, he turned the full force of his charming smile on Miss Cuthbert. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, madam.”
The seduction dripping from his words made Lily roll her eyes. Miss Cuthbert let out a little squeak.
“Miss Cuthbert,” Lily said, “please allow me to introduce my husband, Lord Thorburn. My lord, this is Miss Cuthbert, headmistress of King’s Cross Vocational.”
Ethan came around the desk and took the older woman’s hand, which he made a show of bowing over. “Your servant, ma’am.”
The woman’s arm went limp like a noodle beneath Ethan’s touch.
Lily shook her head. “That’ll be all for now, Miss Cuthbert.”
The headmistress turned and looked at Lily over her shoulder, a blank expression on her face. She blinked. “Oh, yes.” A flush crept up her cheeks. “Until later, my lady. My lord.” She scurried from Lily’s office.
The sound of the door slamming home still rang in her ears when Lily rounded on Ethan. “Nicely done, Thorburn. You’ve proved you can charm the virtue out of a spinster with next to no effort — you must be proud of yourself.”
His jaw cocked to the side. “I am, actually.”
Lily snorted in disgust. He’d spent the month of their marriage either blithely going along with whatever she said — his way of ignoring her, she was convinced — or dashing off sarcastic remarks. She hadn’t heard a sincere statement pass his lips since their one ill-advised night of passion.
On the one hand, his boorish behavior made their uncomplicated society marriage easier to maintain. On the other, however, she missed him. There was something there, she was certain, if only he would reach out for it.
Shut it,
she scolded herself.
She
might feel something there, but that didn’t mean
he
did. Without the proper defenses in place, Lily knew she could be reduced to a limp bit of quivering female as easily as Miss Cuthbert had been.
“What do you want, Thorburn?”
He shrugged. “My day brought me into the vicinity, so I thought I’d pop in and see the place.” Sunlight streaming through the picture window caught his irises as he inspected the office, lending them a blue translucency. The clear depths evidenced there quite took Lily’s breath. Had she not already been seated, her shaky knees would have unceremoniously deposited her in the chair.
She cleared her throat and straightened the stack of reference letters to cover a sudden fit of nerves. “Does it meet your approval, my lord?” Her eyes latched onto the applicant’s name in the top letter, but she felt the weight of his appraising gaze settle on her.
“Ethan. And as to my approval, I really can’t say, as I’ve not been afforded the opportunity to inspect the property.” Lily glanced up. “I should like to know how my wife passes her days.” His voice was quiet, only a few notches more than a whisper. “Would you give me a tour, princess?”
Lily’s chest tightened at the endearment. She’d not heard it in weeks, and it speared right through her carefully maintained walls. Damn the man! No matter how she tried to shut him out, he found a way past her locks and barricades as swiftly as a master housebreaker.
“All right,” she demurred. “I’ll show you about, but then I must get back to work.”
A brief smile flitted across his lips. “Thank you. After you, my dear.”
“We’ll begin at the kitchen,” she blurted. She flew down the stairs, wanting to get through the tour and send him on his way without allowing him to see what a besotted little fool she was.
This way, he might come to respect her and her work. But if he knew how she wanted to bury her face against his chest, how she longed to feel his arms wrap around her and hear words he could never possibly say …
Ethan Helling wasn’t capable of love, she thought as she rounded the landing to descend to ground level. He was too damaged by his wretched childhood, too cynical as an adult. Rejection was the only possible outcome if he learned of her blasted feelings, and that would destroy her. It was far better to prevent herself from loving him — better for them both.
Smells of dirt and fresh-cut wood filled the air as she led him into the spacious kitchen. Several workmen chipped away old, broken terra cotta tiles to make way for the new floor. The sound of hammers striking chisels rang through the air. Lily covered her ears. Ethan took a cursory look around the room and nodded. The cacophony of demolition followed them down the hallway, but conversation became possible.
“There’s a gaping hole where a range and boiler ought to be,” Ethan said.
“We ripped out the old, open range. A fully enclosed one will be installed in its place. It should be here next week.”
They came upon another group of workmen gathered around a table where the renovation plans were laid out. One of them jabbed at the paper and made agitated gestures with his head. Disapproving and confused expressions marked the faces of the other men.
“They don’t understand my bath-room,” Lily explained.
His head cocked to the side. “Bath-room?”
Lily sighed. “You, too?” She folded her arms beneath her breasts and prepared to explain, yet again, the concept of a room set aside for hygiene.
“I know what a bath-room is, Lily,” he said, forestalling her lecture. “But I’ve not seen one yet. When will the work be done?”
Lily blinked. “Oh! Well, the architect will be here on Thursday to oversee the beginning of the work.” She turned and gestured toward the room next to the work crew. Envisioning the completed project, her words came out in an animated tumble. “It’ll be quite an undertaking — pipes must be laid to tap into the water main. Fortunately, we can go on and run water to the kitchen, as well. Then the walls and floors will have to be finished, and finally the bathing equipment will be installed. The bath-room will have a dedicated boiler, of course, and the tub will feature a shower mechanism, as well. I think that would be the most efficient way to get a dozen girls in and out.” When she looked up at Ethan, he was watching her with an amused turn to his lips. The corners of his eyes were soft. Lily flushed.
“It’s marvelous,” he said. “Ingenious, even.” He stepped closer to Lily. She backed away, halting only when her shoulder blades met the cool wall. The tender gleam in Ethan’s eyes turned hungry as his large frame boxed her in. Lily swallowed, and then ducked to the side.
“Let’s continue,” she said in a breathless rush. “I really don’t have all day to give you, my lord. Things to do, you understand.”
Ethan chuckled as he followed her up the stairs.
In a front room, tattered wallpaper hung in strips and plaster dust covered the floorboards. Lily’s voice reverberated off the bare walls and floor. “This room shall serve several purposes — pianoforte, singing, dancing, and etiquette instruction, as well as functioning as a proper drawing room.”
Lily planted her hands on her hips and looked around the space. Its dilapidation reminded her of the house she shared with Ethan, but while the home she’d come into through marriage had the sad air of a structure in decline, this space was filled with the happy anticipation of renovation and renewal. Her mind swirled with desires and hopes for King’s Cross Vocational. It would be a marvelous place, a sanctuary from her unhappy marriage.