P.S. I Love You Page 14

  “Now, back to our discussion,” she said as she began fastening the buttons. “You said you think you don’t belong here. Well, I don’t belong to this time, either. I was born in yours. I have a birth certificate and a driver’s license to prove it. That should rip a hole in the space-time continuum, don’t you think? How about this? I’ve ridden in a taxi, shopped at a mall, had baby shots, and drunk Coca-Cola. I’ve spent enough time there to earn a college degree.” May waved away Cora’s startled look. “All of that together must be enough to shatter the universe.” She paused. “Or perhaps just theories about the universe.”

  May finished the buttons and brought the ties behind Cora’s back to make a bow. “Both centuries are part of my own thread. They are part of my mother’s and all of my siblings’, too.” She stood in front of Cora. “That other theory requires you to believe that time is one dimensional. Yet here you stand—so it’s not.”

  May turned Cora to look in the mirror. “You’re dressed. I’ll send a maid to do your hair.” May’s gaze was intense toward Cora through the reflection in the glass, a rare look for her, crowding out her natural mirth, when she asked, “Do you belong here? I can’t answer that question. Only you can make the choice.”

  May walked to the door but turned around just before she left. “How do you know where you belong until you’ve been there?” She stepped out, and the door shut.

  Cora quickly opened the letter to read before the maid arrived.

  My Dearest Cora,

  I am in awe of your compassion and knowledge. Thank you for driving out with me today.

  With sincere appreciation,

  Simon

  P.S. There are times, many times, when I feel that I’m not prepared to lead the estate. Father would take my older brothers out on estate business while I was left behind. I thought it was because I wasn’t old enough, that someday I would be, but my twelfth year came and went, and I wasn’t taken from the schoolroom to meet the tenants or visit the shearing sheds in the north. I was sent to school. The years passed, and I was passed over. I suppose I’ve continued to think of myself as unworthy and unable.

  But you give me hope. Neither of us was prepared to save a man’s life today. If I just follow your example and live as true as I can, without retreating from difficulty, all will be well.

  Cora folded the letter and tucked it into a drawer. It touched her heart to think that Simon believed that she made him a better person. She felt like she was better with him as well. Yes, this separation would hurt them both.

  The next day, as the ladies were in the morning room, and the men had gone out riding, a carriage arrived, delivering four women. Cora recognized Simon’s mother and two sisters but not the fourth woman who traveled with them. Remembering Simon’s comment about “accosting an American,” Cora wanted to leave the room before the women entered but realized she’d have to scurry through the hallway and past the door where they’d enter to do so. I don’t scurry. Instead, she watched through the window as the processional approached the house.

  “That’s His Grace’s family, right?” Cora asked Lucy Radnor, who shared the couch with her.

  “Yes, they’re breaking their journey here and will continue to London in a couple of days.” Lucy clasped her hands in front of her. Cora wondered if something about their arrival made her nervous. “The dowager duchess is a school friend of Mrs. Hawley’s.”

  “Who is that with them?” Cora had to admit, the woman looked like a goddess, tall and slender with more cleavage on display than she usually saw in the daytime here. Black, glossy curls and braids surrounded a classical face with full lips and large eyes. She had the kind of poise that was typical of televised Hollywood events.

  “Her two daughters. The elder is Miss Tuttle, Georgia, and the younger is Miss Virginia Tuttle. The woman wearing green is Lady Atkins. Her name is Emaline. She’s the same age as Simon and Everett.” Lucy looked squarely into Cora’s eyes. “Everett believes she is highly infatuated with Simon’s title, and has the support of his sisters to become his duchess.”

  Cora studied Lady Atkins. Yes, she was what Cora expected a woman with a high social ranking to look like.

  May approached her friends. “What is she doing here?” she hissed.

  “Simon’s family is stopping over. Since Emaline is their cousin, I suppose she came along.” Hearing Cora’s light gasp, Lucy added, “Their grandmothers were sisters—Emaline is their distant cousin.”

  “Not distant enough at this moment,” May said, then leaned closer and dropped her voice. “That viper was engaged to Simon’s oldest brother when he died. Before the end of the following season, she married an ancient earl with a bad cough who died within weeks, leaving her with a lovely title, property of her own, and a generous settlement.”

  “So, now she wants an upgrade,” Cora said to herself, but must have spoken aloud as May snorted, and Lucy looked at her with wonder. “She wants to raise her status in society.”

  Lucy nodded. “Exactly.”

  The butler escorted the arriving party to the morning room, and a series of curtsies began. Cora watched with fascination as lower-ranking women bobbed to those of higher rank. When the series was completed, their eyes turned to Cora, and May made the introduction.

  Cora tipped her head to the side. “My pleasure to meet you.” She saw Simon’s sisters’ eyes narrow and his mother’s chin lift as she gave a sniff before averting her gaze.

  “Hardly an appropriate greeting for a duchess,” Lady Atkins mumbled.

  May’s mouth opened, but before she could speak, Cora spoke directly to Lady Atkins with a smile on her lips, and she hoped a lighthearted voice. “I’m American. We bow to no one.” Then she held eye contact with Simon’s mother and added, “But it is an immense pleasure just the same.”

  Immediately, Mrs. Hawley stepped forward and gestured to the hallway. “You’ve had quite a journey. I’m so happy you’re here. Let’s get you settled.”

  The group turned toward the door, but Lady Atkins twisted back and stared at Cora. Her eyes traveled down her dress, and she made no pretense that she was judging her harshly as she lifted her hand as if to cover a laugh.

  Cora had had enough and flicked her fingers, saying, “Shoo. Shoo now.” Then she turned her back on the woman.

  May burst out laughing while Lucy appeared shocked.

  Cora commented, “Well, not a very promising start. I’d guess Lady Atkins and I won’t be friends. Well, really all of them.”

  “Oh, you never know.” May shrugged her left shoulder. “Maybe they’ll admire your backbone, and it will work out fine.”

  Cora tried to decide if May was sincere. Lucy spoke up. “Not likely that, is it?”

  “Definitely not.” May threw her arms around the women’s shoulders and walked them back to the sofa. “There is some history you’ll need to know, Cora.” The women leaned together. “It’s not a coincidence they have arrived, and this won’t be the last we see of them. All three ladies have a scheme. Lady Atkins has her sights set on Simon, and I expect her to follow him from event to event, using her connections with his family to get close to him.”

  Cora pondered that. In her current state, she didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad when both options were painful.

  “Miss Virginia Tuttle has made no secret of wanting to marry Wetheridge,” May said.

  “She can have him,” Cora offered.

  Lucy twisted her hands in her lap, and Cora saw the same tension she had seen in her moments before. “And Lady Virginia Tuttle would marry Everett, should he offer. I think both their mothers might want that since they’re close friends.”

  “Don’t worry, Lucy. You are firmly settled in Everett’s heart,” Cora said.

  “I wish that was true, but I doubt—often.” She shook her head slightly as she continued, her voice a whisper. “He may love to spend time with me. He may even love to kiss me.” May laid her hand on top of Lucy’s and gave a little squeeze. “Bu
t he has made no offer. And another season has ended … ” Her voice trailed to nothing.

  The three women sat together in silence. Cora wondered if she was at liberty to tell what she knew of Everett’s service to Simon as well as his plea that he desired to make Lucy his own.

  No. It wasn’t her story to tell. The most she could do was have a frank conversation with Everett—and maybe Simon. Which she would tonight or at breakfast in the morning. Cora was often the only female who ate breakfast when the men did. She didn’t like to see Lucy feel like she was being dangled along.

  May stood from the couch. “Let’s get our hats and go for a walk before they return. With any luck, we won’t have to see them until dinner.”

  Cora saw the letter on her bed as she entered her room. It simply said, “Garden maze tonight.” She felt a touch of disappointment as the letter had none of their usual banter. No joke. No long P.S. with personal revelations. No signature or even a wax seal. She chided herself for being spoiled by his previous letters. He probably penned it in a hurry before he left to go riding that morning.

  She tucked it into the bottom of her trunk, donned a hat, tying it below her chin, and hurried down the stairs to join Lucy and May. When was she supposed to meet him? Surely he’d give her some sign.

  Cora, May, and Lucy extended their walk and returned to the Hawley estate in time to begin dressing for dinner. She didn’t see Simon or any of the men for that matter. When she came down for dinner, Simon was in the salon talking with his mother, sisters, and Lady Atkins, who was worse than a cat, rubbing herself against him accidentally on purpose whenever she laughed or turned to look somewhere.

  She joined May and waited, glancing at Simon all too often.

  When they were invited into the dining room, Lady Atkins began reaching for Simon’s arm, but he quickly extended it toward his mother.

  She tried to push it away. “We needn’t be so rigid in the orders of precedence. You’re a young man and needn’t waste social opportunities on me. You may escort Emaline and become reacquainted.”

  “You are charitable to consider my feelings, but it is not a waste for a mother to take her son’s arm. I rarely have the honor. I’d be pleased to escort you in.” Simon gave his mother a bow and placed her hand in the crook of his arm, then led her out the door. The rest of the guests paired off and followed behind.

  The seating could not have been more to Cora’s liking. Well maybe, but she was satisfied. Simon sat at one end of the table to Mrs. Hawley’s right while Lady Atkins sat on Mr. Hawley’s left at the other end. Cora sat beside Everett with May directly across from her and Simon in plain view. The only unfortunate placement that Lucy was seated far from any of them across from Lady Atkins.

  Cora spent much of the meal trying to decide why it mattered to her if Lady Atkins married Simon. She told herself that she didn’t want to see anyone used for their social position, but that seemed to be acceptable and even encouraged in this time. She also believed Simon deserved much more though she didn’t know Lady Atkins at all to be able to make a judgment like that.

  Annoyance at herself built as she failed to clear her thoughts, contradicting herself as they bounced around.

  Anyway, that was Simon’s call, not hers. Did she really think that when she left, she would have so altered his life that he wouldn’t find someone to share it with? No. He would find happiness. She had to believe that. Then why did the motivation for marriage matter? Her soul felt deflated, and her heart was limp. At least she wouldn’t have to be here to see it.

  She sat in her chair, her back straight but her head bent as she stared without seeing her dessert, her spoon poised just off the table, the apricot ice molded into a rose melting out of shape. Cora was completely torn. If she met him in the maze, would she just be adding greater heartbreak when she left? If she didn’t meet him, she wouldn’t know what message he had for her. She wouldn’t be able to look into his face shadowed in the moonlight. She wouldn’t sleep at all tonight with wondering.

  She realized her bone-deep sorrow and the little antagonism she felt toward Miss Atkins were because . . . She admitted she might love Simon . . . and she was leaving him.

  Thankfully the women stood to leave the dining room. Much more of that apricot ice, and tears might have begun falling.

  When the men entered the salon, Simon was last through the door. He immediately walked to Everett, turning them both so their conversation was private. Simon whispered something to Everett, then his gaze met Cora’s. Everett nodded once and Simon left the room. After excusing himself to his mother, Everett followed. Cora, standing near the doorway, watched as both men disappeared down the hallway.

  Cora wondered if he was going to the maze now. Given her realization in the dining room, was it wise to follow him tonight? After just a few minutes, when Simon didn’t return, she decided to risk more entanglements in her heart for another moment with him before she left England. Perhaps love was worth it even for a few days. She slipped around the edges of the room and out the door.

  Chapter 13

  Simon

  Everett met Simon at the door to his study. “Why would Wetheridge stroll out to the garden at this time of night?” Everett asked as he twisted the key in the lock and stood aside for Simon to enter.

  Simon thought Everett looked as suspicious as Simon felt.

  “You don’t think …?” He didn’t continue with what he thought but shook his head and gave Simon a hopeless look.

  “I have no idea, but I will find out.” Simon walked across the dark wood floor, his boot heels clicking with the determination in his step. “If he thinks to have an assignation with my sister, I’ll beat him bloody.”

  Simon sneaked out the exterior door of the office, following Wetheridge but keeping to the shadows where he wouldn't be seen. He’d run the garden maze so many times in his youth that he could do it blindfolded. Neither the hidden exits nor the false turns would give him any trouble. Of course, Wetheridge could probably do the same. As Everett’s cousin, he’d likely had years of practice in this maze too.

  As he slid around the corner, he saw Wetheridge pause for a moment near the formal entrance. His face turned back toward the house even as silver light broke through the back door, and a woman stepped out.

  Simon hissed in his breath and held it. Suddenly he wished the tryst was with his sister. Instead, he recognized Cora’s gold dress. Throughout dinner she’d caught his attention as he admired that color against her skin and how it brightened her hair. He exhaled slowly, his gut tightening when his own eyes verified her familiar appearance—her curly tresses lifted off her neck and the alluring spiral lovelock she’d left dangling over one shoulder. Hoping he was mistaken, he felt crushed when he confirmed even by the way she moved, stepping surely though looking over her shoulder once and striding away from the party and toward the maze—toward Wetheridge.

  He didn’t know what compelled him to enter the maze through a hidden passage, or perhaps he clung to one hope that he was mistaken. Or perhaps he would verify it with his own eyes before he gave her up. He also questioned if he was seeking to release the pain he felt at seeing her race to meet Wetheridge. Like pressing on a scab, he had to know.

  Simon shook himself and straightened his shoulders. Cora, in many ways, was inexperienced with London society and the rules it imposed. He told himself that it was for her protection that he would remain near. He would step into the maze himself rather than let her be compromised—even though she seemed accepting of the plan.

  He made his way slowly through the deep shadows of the trees bordering the lawn. He forced his feet to move quietly, slowly, though his mind was racing. Had she a special interest in the man? Surely not. But she made a straight line toward the hedge. Had they rendezvoused before? He doubted it. He would have noticed Cora missing from a dinner or any other event as her presence was a constant pull to his mind, and his eyes searched for her before he knew he wanted to see her again. It must be a coin
cidence. Must be.

  Wetheridge was nowhere to be seen now as he’d entered straightway. Cora didn’t even pause but almost charged into the entrance. He brushed off the possibility that she was excited for the meeting, thinking that perhaps she was angry. That would explain the determination and fast pace. Simon decided to go through a back entrance into the hedge where he could see what was happening. He had to move quickly but quietly to reach the fountain while she followed the twisting passageways. If she planned to go to the fountain.

  Pausing at the last corner, Simon glanced around the hedges before entering the centerpiece of the maze. He moved by degrees, scanning the open space. The fountain bubbled as water cascaded out of the rose-shaped tubs as if an endless rainstorm had filled them to spilling over to the level below. Gray statuary and exotic flowering trees decorated the sanctuary’s five-sided borders between the various entrances.

  Wetheridge stood to the side of the hedges where the light cast from the full moon wouldn’t touch him, and he could watch the main entrance without being seen. If Cora expected to meet him here, why would he hide?

  Simon wondered, when Cora had shown Wetheridge no preference, why she would meet him now. Here. It twisted his heart to imagine what he hadn’t recognized. Of course, she could have spoken with the man when Simon couldn’t hear their conversation or at some time when he wasn’t present.

  The flash of a white dress through the leaves broke Simon from his thoughts. He strained to hear women’s faint voices and heavy steps. They were giggling, followed by exaggerated hushing sounds as they rounded the corner right behind him. He jerked back and slipped into one of the dead ends where he hoped to be hidden in the shadows as they entered the back entrance to the hedgerow.