Authors: Nicole Brightman
Chapter 5
I walk into the pub to start my shift. Mr. Johnson is sitting at the counter as the only patron. He meets Mr. McIntyre here each day for chess. After being with Eric last night everything seems like a dream. I can’t keep my mind from wandering back to his arms.
I tie on a short green apron over my dark blue jeans and tucked in black shirt. I decide to make Maggie happy and tie my hair back in a low ponytail. I leave my bag and coat in the backroom and head to the bar counter. Maggie is talking animatedly with Mr. Johnson about what sounds to be a fishing trip.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Johnson. Hi, Maggie.”
“So, what did you do last night?” Maggie asks in a suspicious tone.
“What do you mean?”
“You are glowing and all bubbly,” she presses further.
“Oh, I just slept really well last night and I am using a new face wash.” I am intentionally being vague in hopes she drops it.
“Uh huh. Who is he?” Maggie asks with a wide smile.
Before I can answer, Mr. McIntyre opens the door to the pub caring his chess set. Mr. Johnson joins him at their usual table in front of the window by the door. I hurry to bring Mr. McIntyre his usual drink before Maggie can ask anything else.
“It looks like it will be pretty slow today. You can head out if you want,” I say to Maggie, refusing to meet her eyes.
“Yep, I am pretty sure it will be. So Cora, who is he?”
Fuck. “Maggie, I… uh… um…” I really don’t want to lie to her but I am also not sure if I want to tell her about Eric. As I am searching for what to say, the door to the pub opens again. I glance over in hopes it is someone to distract Maggie from her inquisition.
Well fuck! So much for hiding anything!
“Well, welcome back your Lordship!” Maggie beams.
“Maggie, I asked last time please call me Eric,” Eric is even more stunning in the light of day. There is a tiny bit of sun behind him playing on his features. He looks so good it is almost unreal. His dark hair is parted and combed perfectly. One lock is gently brushing his forehead, most likely thanks the breezy day. His suit and vest are dark grey today, with a dark purple shirt underneath that is almost the exact same color as my sweater from last night. Again he isn’t wearing a tie and the first two buttons of the shirt are undone exposing the hollow where his collar bone meets. I desperately want to trace it with my lips.
I resist the urge to run to him and instead just blush such a deep shade of red it is almost purple. I duck my head and hope that Maggie won’t notice my cheeks burning.
“Cora, aren’t you going to say hello to Eric? I would introduce you but I have a feeling you two already know each other,” Maggie smirks barely hiding her amusement. I look over at her and she is smiling like a child with an ice cream.
Shit, that is it. I’m screwed.
“Hello Eric,” I say stiffly, not wanting to give Maggie anymore enjoyment than she already has. Eric looks confused and scowls at me slightly. Clearly he didn’t think coming here was going to be a problem. I forgot he didn’t grow up in a small town. He has no idea the wild fire that will be started if the locals catch wind of this.
“Um, hello Cora,” he responds and seems disappointed. I am surprised to see how much him being unhappy bothers me. I decide to suck it up. So what if I am the topic of conversation for a few days.
“It’s nice to see you here. I didn’t know you knew I was working,” I smile at him brightly fully aware that Maggie is staring at me. “Want a scotch?”
“I didn’t know you were. I was driving through on my way somewhere else and thought I would stop in to see if you were here. Yes, scotch would be great. Neat please.” He smiles back at me and looks relieved.
“Yeah, I know. That blonde behind the bar the other night? That was me,” I joke and wink slightly at him. I pour and hand him his scotch. When I look over at Maggie she is still smiling at me. “I am sure I can handle things out here if you have some other things to do, Mags.”
“Okay, I’ll just be in the back doing paperwork if you need me. Patrick will be here in a bit too,” Maggie says as she unties her apron. “Not your type? Liar,” she whispers under her breath at me as she heads to the backroom leaving Eric and I alone at the counter.
“Thank you again for last night, Eric. I really had a good time.”
“Yeah, I could tell,” he says with my favorite devilish smile. “And you are most welcome. I was wondering, are you free tomorrow?” He runs his hand through is hair.
Is he nervous to ask me out? Can’t be, seriously, can’t be.
“Yep, I actually have the next three days off. What did you have in mind?” While I am curious, I’m also more than willing to go just about anywhere with him.
“Well several things, honestly.” He winks coyly at me. “I was thinking I would still very much like to replace the clothing that was ruined the other night. Would you be willing to come up to my place tomorrow for lunch?”
“Sure. That would be nice,” I respond quickly. I am not sure what replacing my clothing and lunch have to do with each other, but I am eager to find out. The door to the pub opens again and this time it is Mr. Greene and two of his sons. They pause to speak with Mr. Johnson and Mr. McIntyre. All five men turn to look at Eric and start heading towards the bar counter.
“I should go before that wanker of a Lord makes a scene in here again for you. I will send a car tomorrow at noon. Bye, honey,” he says as he stands. He leans over the counter and briefly kisses my forehead before heading out the door.
I find it funny that I am swooning from a light kiss on my forehead. I turn to see the gentlemen standing by the door with their mouths open and can’t help but giggle.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Greene. Usual pints for you and the boys?” I ask, pretending nothing out of the ordinary just happened.
“Yes dear. Thank you,” he replies as they take the table next to the chess game.
I turn to grab glasses for the beer and jump. Patrick is standing a few feet behind me. “Shit! You scared the hell out of me! How long have you been standing there?” I question him as I take a swing at his arm.
“Long enough,” he laughs and deflects my swing. “So, who was the guy in the suit?”
Patrick is a young guy that helps in the kitchen when he isn’t off on a fishing boat. He is a handsome Irish man with strawberry blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. He is really nice and we chat a little. I wouldn’t say we are friends but more like work acquaintances. Maggie has been trying to set me up with him since my first week here. Unfortunately for Maggie, Patrick would be much more interested in Eric than he ever would me.
“Um, that is Lord Eric Ashford. He bought Greenwood Manor a few months ago,” I answer again trying to be vague on purpose.
“Really? He looks like a Gucci model. Is he single?”
“Yes, he does, and yes he is, but he isn’t on your team,” I whisper and smile at Patrick. It seems I can’t stop smiling today.
“Yeah, I figured that when I saw him look at you. You will have to let me know if he has a brother,” Patrick whispered back. Patrick doesn’t really try to hide who he is, but Edgecombe is a very small conservative town. He says it just makes his life easier to not advertise. “I am going to go start the prep. Let me know if you need anything, your Ladyship.”
The next few hours are pretty typical for a weeknight at the pub. The only thing that seems different is every now and again I hear someone say my name in a low conversation. A few times I have caught some of the women openly pointing at me while whispering. At first I feel self-conscious. I try to avoid eye contact with anyone and keep busy. Then I overhear two of the women talking.
“Have you seen him? I can’t say I blame her,” the first woman says.
“Well, no me either. Just doesn’t seem fair, her being American and all,” the second woman groans.
“I wouldn’t care if he was from Mars. If I got the chance, I would have a go at him too. I just wish I was twenty years younger. I’d give her a run for her money and not give a damn what anyone thinks,” the first woman responds laughing.
I decide she has a point. If people have an issue with me seeing Eric, well they can kiss my ass. From that point on the night seems to sail by. I am no longer distracted by anyone talking, pointing, or staring. I return to my happy post great date bubble.
Before long it is closing time. I keep busy cleaning every surface in the little pub. When the last couple leaves, Maggie locks the front door.
“So, were you goin’ to tell me about his lordship or not?” Maggie asks as she walks back from the door.
“Um, I don’t know. I mean, I wanted to tell you, but honestly there isn’t much to tell. He almost ran me over the night he was here. Last night we went to dinner and then he stopped by today to invite me to lunch tomorrow. That’s it,” I explain, leaving out the wonderful moments spent on the hood of his car.
“Uh huh,” Maggie rolls her eyes at me. “Sounds like there is something to tell to me. He almost hit you with his car? And Cora, you want me to believe that he came all the way here just to ask you to lunch after a nice dinner?”
“The car thing isn’t as bad as it sounds. I am fine. He said that is exactly why he came here. I don’t know. I guess he thought the dinner was really nice,” I shrug.
“Something tells me it wasn’t the dinner he thought was really nice. Just be careful with him, Cora. People like him live in a different world with different rules. I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Maggie says as she places her hand on my shoulder.
“I will be careful, I promise. Now, I am going home to get my beauty sleep.” I kiss Maggie on the cheek and head to the back to collect my things. When I go outside, it is obvious that winter is finally making itself known. It is much colder than just yesterday. It is the kind of weather that just makes me long for a roaring fire and Eric’s arms. That thought keeps me warm the whole way home.
Chapter 6
The next morning I wake earlier than I normally would after working to get my morning routine out of the way before getting dressed for Eric. I hear my phone notify me of a text message. I look to see who it is and I am excited to see it is from him.
I can’t wait to see you today.
I am so happy I almost skip into the kitchen. I grab a cup of tea and go to my closet to find an outfit. I have no idea what to wear to lunch at the manor of an English Lord. I pick out a long sleeve, charcoal grey dress that hits me about mid-thigh. The top is fitted but the bottom is flowing. I am also wearing a belted black thick sweater. I have on tall black boots with slouchy boot socks and a handbag that matches.
I run a brush through my hair. Since it is raining, I twist the sides back and secure it with a few bobby pins. A little eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss and I am ready to go. I hear a car pull up out front and head to the door.
When I open the door, I see a man in a black suit holding an umbrella standing outside a black town car.
“Ms. Allen?” he asks in a thick Scottish accent as he walks towards me.
“Yes, that is me.”
“I am Angus, Lord Ashford’s driver. Right this way ma’am,” he says as he holds the umbrella over my head. He holds the door open to the car as I climb in. It is warm and comfortable in the back seat. I feel my phone vibrate and check it quickly. This time it is Maggie.
Be careful.
I roll my eyes at her protective nature. I send her back a short message.
I always am.
I really hope she doesn’t spend the day worrying about me. Angus silently begins to drive us to Greenwood Manor. As we reach the edge of town I feel my phone again. Once again it is Maggie.
I mean it. Don’t fuck him.
I can’t help but roll my eyes again. I turn my phone off and toss it into my purse. We turn off the main road and on to a narrow tree lined paved drive. As we drive though the iron gates of Greenwood Manor, I feel my stomach flutter.
The first thing I see is a perfectly manicured lawn with small shaped bushes lining the drive. The main house is visible beyond. It is a large, two story, tan brick building with an impressive amount of windows and chimney stacks. There is a large amount of ivy growing up one side still with a few leaves, thanks to the above freezing conditions of late. To the left of the main house is another building. It looks as though it was once a horse stable but has most likely been converted to hold Eric’s collection of cars. There are more trimmed bushes flanking a lovely carved oak door. The entire space combines to resemble something out of a Jane Austen novel. As though Mr. Darcy himself could walk out the front door and down the steps to greet you.
As we pull to a stop in front of the door, I see that luckily the rain has stopped for now. Angus hurries over to open my door and help me from the car. An older man with greying hair in a traditional English butler’s uniform is hurrying towards me.
“Hello Ms. Allen. I am Jefferson, head of Lord Ashford’s estate. His Lordship is expecting you of course. Please follow me,” he says as he turns back towards the front door. He opens the door for me and I step into Greenwood manor for the first time. It is simply beautiful. It has the splendor of a Victorian manor furthering the Jane Austen feeling. The dark woods and rich colors make the space feel luxurious and welcoming.
“May I take your jumper and bag?” Jefferson asks once the door is closed. He helps me slip out of my sweater and I hand him my handbag.
I turn around at the sound of footsteps to see Eric walking down the hall toward me. He looks relaxed and obviously at home. This is the first time I have seen him in something other than a suit. He is wearing jeans that hang low on his hips. His shirt is a vintage looking, dark grey t-shirt with a faded Union Jack and the words “
The Who
”. The shirt hugs his muscular shoulders and chest. He runs his hand through his dark brown hair and smiles at me.
“Hello Cora,” he kisses my cheek. “Thank you for coming out here.”
“Of course,” I reply, kissing his cheek back. “This is a really lovely home.”
“Thanks. I had some little renovations done to bring it in to the twenty-first century. For the most part I wanted to keep the original feel of the place,” Eric explains as he takes me by the arm and leads me down the hall.
We turn into a well-lit large formal dining room. There is a large table in the center of the room. Two places are set at the far end of the table. Eric pulls out the chair to the right of the table head for me and sits at the head of the table himself. A man in uniform enters the room from a door behind the table. He is carrying a tray with two different pitchers.
“Would you like some lemonade?” Eric offers as the man approaches the table.
“Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.”
“I will just have water. Thank you, John,” he says to the man in the uniform. John pours Eric water from the pitcher and leaves the room. A moment later he returns with another tray. He places a dish in front of each of us containing a small cup of butternut squash soup and a field green salad with chicken.
I take a bite of each and decide that Eric has excellent taste in food. I look up and notice that John is still standing in the room. I feel a little awkward with him just standing next to the table. Eric must have been able to tell because he dismisses John and smiles at me.
I attempt to smile back but instead let out a yawn. I am mortified! “I am so sorry. That was not directed at you I swear. I woke up earlier than I normally would after being at work the night before.”
“It is okay, honey. Believe it or not everyone yawns from time to time,” Eric reassures me with a smile again. “I am sorry if I asked you here too early.”
“Oh no, it isn’t that. I got up pretty early to make sure I had time to do my usual morning yoga. I haven’t skipped a day in years. Even when I am sick I still do at least part of the routine.”
“Wow, you are pretty dedicated.”
“Yeah, it makes such a difference in my stress levels. I started getting panic attacks really bad when I was thirteen. My mom took me to a ton of doctors who all wanted to put me on meds. She was about to give in when we found a
psychiatrist
that recommend I try yoga daily and stick to a scheduled life. It really worked wonders so I have been doing it ever since. I hadn’t had panic attack for over a year until…”
“Until I almost hit you with my car?”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Why? I was in the wrong, honey. So, do you know what triggered your panic attacks in first place?”
“Yeah, we always knew,” I take a deep breath. I hate talking about this but I guess it would have come up sometime. I will just get it out fast like ripping off a Band-Aid. “My father was murdered when I was thirteen. I think I told you he was a police officer in the town I grew up in. He was responding to a domestic violence call. The man pulled a gun on the woman and my dad pushed her out of the way to save her. The bullet hit him in the throat right above his bulletproof vest. It severed a major artery and they couldn’t save him. He died just that quickly. He was doing a job he had done for years and just like that he was gone. He just went to work and never came home. All because some drunken asshole was angry at his wife for who knows what.” I feel my eyes start to tear up. I blink a few times and hold it together. I don’t need him to see me cry. Eric reaches over and takes my hand closest to him.
“It is still hard for me to talk about. Our town is small so this was a pretty big deal. We actually found out he had been shot by a news report.” As I am telling the story, I can still see the panic in my mother’s eyes that day. “The experience of losing your soul mate to pointless violence is one no person should ever have to go through. Watching my mother feel like that was almost harder than losing my dad.”
“I am so sorry you had to go through that. I know how hard it can be to lose someone you love so much,” his empathizes in a soft caring tone.
“Do you mean your wife?” As soon as I said it I knew I shouldn’t have. His eyes go cold and his strong jaw tenses. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“No, don’t be. You just caught me off guard.” He closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them they are warm again. “I was actually speaking of my father. He died when I was seven. It was due to issues with his heart and was very sudden. And yes, I lost my wife too.”
“Eric, I really am very sorry. I never should have clicked on that stupid article.” I feel like a jackass. Well that clearly wasn’t his father in the picture either.
“Ah, yes. ‘London’s Most Eligible Bachelors’ I believe. I only agreed to that because my mother insisted.” He pulls his hand away from mine and returns to his salad.
“Yes. I didn’t read the whole thing. I only skimmed the first part. I felt like I was snooping so I stopped,” I offer hoping that makes it better somehow. I can feel my ears burning with my embarrassment.
“Oh Cora, don’t be so upset. You are not the first person to search someone on the internet. I should tell you though that you only have to ask and I will be more than happy to answer any questions you may have.” He sets his fork down and smiles at me slightly.
“Okay, well, who are the people in the picture with you?” I can’t help but be curious now.
“Well the two women are my mother and younger sister and the man is my step-father. He actually looks just like my father. They were cousins.” I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “He was around a lot after my father passed. He spent a great deal of time with my mother and their friendship turned into more. He has been very good to all of us and I do think of him like a father.”
“Can I ask what happened to your wife?” I hold my breath. The words just tumbled out. I hate it when I say something without thinking. I am about to apologize again when he takes a deep breath.
“Of course, I did say to ask me any questions. Sarah was an amazing woman. She was kind to everyone and very smart. She was truly my best friend and had been since we were fifteen.” It is as if someone laid a veil over his face. I know that as he is speaking he isn’t really seeing me but another time and place.
“We were married when we were just eighteen. I have never been as happy as I was then. After being married for a few years we decided to have children. We tried for over a year with no luck. Sarah went to see a fertility doctor who did a bunch of tests. That was when they first found the cancer. It was already at a stage three and moved fast. By Christmas she couldn’t walk anymore. I carried her up and down the stairs in our home so she could still be part of the holiday. She kept saying she wasn’t going anywhere until after New Year’s. It had always been a special holiday for us. It was the anniversary of our first date and the night I asked her to marry me. She died two days after New Year’s. That was six years ago”
Two days after New Year’s.
So that is why he was in the pub and why he was drinking so much. I really just want to climb in his lap and hold him. I resist the urge and instead take his hand this time. I gently squeeze his hand and he makes eye contact with me for the first time since mentioning his wife.
Before either of us can say anything more, the door to the dining room opens and very attractive man walks in. He is slightly shorter than Eric but seems to be equally built. He is wearing slacks with a dark blue sweater over a button up. His hair is short, light brown, and perfectly styled. He has light blue eyes that are sharp and alert. He walks confidently over to Eric.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Oh wow, he is clearly American with a slight southern accent. “Miranda is here. I had her set up in the large parlor.”
“Oh, thank you. Cora, allow me to introduce you to Dean Perry my assistant. Dean this is Miss Cora Allen,” Eric introduces us.
“Pleased to meet you Miss Allen,” Dean says bowing slightly in my direction.
“Thank you. It is always nice to meet another American,” I smile warmly at him.
“Dean, please tell Miranda we will be right in.” Eric scowls at me for a moment. Dean leaves the room without another word.
“So who is Miranda?” I ask with a slight trace of jealousy in my voice.
“She is an old friend. I have a surprise for you. Are you finished?” He says as he pushes back from the table.
“What kind of surprise?”
“A good one I hope.” He smiles and gives me a slight wink.