Chapter 8
Elle surveyed the park. It was beautiful, to be sure. Lightly rolling hills of green, large trees lining the wide path that wound its way through the grounds like a lazy snake. A small stream ran through the center, several stone bridges crossing it at intervals, and eventually emptied into the large pond on the far side near a thick copse of trees. She wished she’d been able to bring her drawing supplies along. It had been years since she’d done any landscapes, but she had the urge to try and capture the beauty of this place.
The park was full of people: ladies in beautiful dresses, many carrying delicate parasols; men in coats that made Elle sweat just looking at them, some even wearing top hats that made her want to laugh.
“So, we literally just…walk?”
“Well, it is called the promenade,” Jocelyn said wryly. Elle gave her a dry look and she chuckled. “Yes, you literally just walk around—usually with a gentleman.” She nodded towards Percival who was bee- lining in their direction, Rose already beaming at his approach.
The two lovebirds walked close enough to hold a low conversation, Rose giggling demurely every so often and Percival grinning ear to ear. Jocy and Elle trailed behind them, far enough to give the two a bit of privacy.
“Is it weird? Thinking about your seventeen-year-old getting married?”
Jocy nodded and smiled to another group walking the other direction, exchanging quick pleasantries before turning her attention back to Elle.
“It is and it isn’t. The part of me from then is appalled at the idea, but the part that has been living this life for almost twenty years accepts it and is happy for her to find a good husband who makes her happy and can give her a good life.” She hiked a shoulder as if to say I know it’s weird, but it is what it is.
Elle mulled that over. She supposed she understood, and as Percy swooped down to pick a handful of yellow daisies and present them to Rose, she shared in Jocy’s joy at the idea of Rose being happy. She just had to constantly remind herself that this wasn’t 2020 and things were very, very different here.
“So, what is that Alec guy’s deal? Is he always an ass to everyone, or am I just special?”
“He’s a good boy—man,” Jocy corrected, shaking her head. “I’ve known him since he was just a boy. Their family estate abuts ours,” she explained. “He’s about ten years older than Rose, but the two of them practically grew up together—used to fight like brother and sister, that’s for sure. She was heartbroken when he left to study to become a doctor and chose to stay away to practice instead of coming home.”
Elle tried to imagine Alec as a boy, pulling Rose’s pigtails or making mud pies, but she couldn’t quite manage it.
“And the whole being an ass thing?”
“He isn’t really, not deep down. He’s…” She pursed her lips, seemingly trying to figure out the best way to explain. “He’s complicated,” she finished lamely. Elle snorted and shook her head.
“Of course he is.”
“You have to remember that he isn’t actually being an ass—not in the way you think,” she added quickly as Elle began to object. “Here, in this time,” she said quietly, “he has every reason to act the way he does. Haughty. Entitled. Because he is those things. In this society, it is just…how it is. I know that isn’t an excuse, at least not for you, but you have to think of things as they are, not the way they will be two hundred years from now.”
“So, he’s an ass, but here, asses are just the norm.”
Jocy huffed out a laugh. “I suppose, but he really isn’t like that at all. He puts on a front for most people…and he’s also walking up right now.”
Elle’s eyes snapped up from where she’d been watching a bee flitting from flower to flower. She saw the turd in question approaching and cursed beneath her breath, wishing the bee would fly up and sting her in the eye just to have an excuse to run away.
“What did I do to deserve this?” she hissed at Jocy just as Alec reached them. Elle plastered on a fake smile and said louder, “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”
“Ah, so you were speaking of me, Miss Montgomery? I’m flattered. Truly.”
Choosing to ignore him, she turned to Jocy.
“I’d love to go see the pond. I’ll leave you two to chat about the dinner plans you mentioned yesterday. If you’ll excuse me.” She inclined her head and didn’t wait for a response before turning and striding off as quickly as she could without drawing attention or looking crazy.
Her escape attempt was short-lived.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to get away from me, Miss Montgomery.” She balled her hands into fists but didn’t stop as he moved to walk beside her. She was already annoyed by his existence. Now she was equally annoyed that she was all but jogging and he was just taking a leisurely stroll. Damn his stupid long strides. Why does he have to be so tall?
“And I was led to believe you were smart,” she said with feigned politeness. He didn’t respond and she couldn’t stop herself from glancing sidelong at him. He was staring at her with a strange expression, the same one she’d seen several times in their short acquaintance: curiosity, amusement, and annoyance. His eyes were a shade lighter here in the sun, rings of gold around his irises that she hadn’t noticed before sparking to life. His hair was tousled, as it had been the day before, and Elle got the feeling that he simply liked it that way, not caring if he looked perfectly coiffed or not. Again, he wasn’t clean shaven as most of the men were either. So, he was Mister Fancypants, but he didn’t seem to care about keeping up the image. She admittedly liked that aspect of his personality, but quickly mentally kicked herself. The bastard had insulted her over and over during their conversation yesterday, and when he wasn’t insinuating that she was basically just a poor, dumb American, he was being a condescending ass. There was nothing to like.
“Have I done something to offend you?” he finally asked, seeing the change in her expression.
Elle stopped and whirled on him, incredulous.
“You spent the better part of the afternoon yesterday insulting my family, education, and social status.”
“I did no such thing,” he countered, looking truly affronted, brow furrowing.
Elle’s mouth popped open, her blood boiling. She tried to speak but couldn’t even get a full word out, she was so annoyed, just random syllables making their way past her lips. He held up a hand to halt her.
“I asked if your family held any titles. You confirmed they did not. Was that incorrect?”
“Well, no. But—”
“I asked if you had tutors and you said you did not. Was that incorrect?”
I didn’t have tutors, I went to school like a normal person and have my fucking Bachelor’s!She wanted to scream.
“No,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I asked—”
“Ok, ok, you made your point. It wasn’t what you asked but how you asked it.” He arched a brow and she rubbed her temples, not wanting to have this conversation. She tried to remember what Jocy had said, about it being a different time. Maybe he really wasn’t trying to be a dick, he was just asking the questions that any man of his position might ask a woman in hers. Different time, Elle, she reminded herself, Different time, different time, different fucking time.
She shook her head, expelled an annoyed breath, and turned to continue walking. She decided to go with the silent treatment from that point forward, merely nodding or giving him non-committal grunts in response to the few questions he did ask before he understood what she was doing. Instead of taking the hint and leaving her alone, he continued to walk beside her in silence, hands clasped behind his back and his shoulders tight with tension. They both stopped in the middle of one of the arched stone bridges, and she leaned her arms on the edge, watching the gentle bubble of the water as it flowed beneath them.
He stood beside her, enough space between them to still be proper though they were far from alone in a park filled with people, and stared into the water as well.
Without looking at him, she finally asked, “Why do you continue to speak with me? I am clearly beneath whatever standards you envision for someone you’d like to court—no titles, no tutors, no great family legacy to my name.” At least not in this century.
He turned to look at her, but she kept her gaze on the water, only seeing him in her peripheral. He seemed to study her, as if the answer to the question were written on her face.
***
Why did he continue to put himself in her path? She was beautiful, that much was obvious, but as she’d said, she wasn’t a woman someone of his station should be courting. Though, he reminded himself, he wasn’t actually courting anyone. So, part of the blame could be placed squarely on his mind taking orders from his cock. The rest? He had no idea.
She clearly didn’t enjoy being around him and he himself was conflicted on if he enjoyed being around her. Part of him was amused and intrigued by the girl. The way she spoke was refreshing, the way she held herself so differently than any woman he’d ever encountered was fascinating and admittedly alluring. But the other part of him was thoroughly vexed by her, annoyance skittering up his spine each time she smirked or didn’t show the respect due to him. He’d never wanted what was due to him, but when this particular woman refused to give it, it…bothered him. He scrubbed a hand down his face, knowing it made no sense at all.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered honestly.
It was the wrong answer.
She bristled and turned to glower at him. She clenched her jaw, the muscle there ticking in tight pulses. Her eyes were blazing, like there were twin flames behind the sapphires. He suspected she might be thinking of slapping him…or punching him? He quirked a brow at her balled fist at her side. He didn’t think any lady in the Ton even knew how to form a proper fist, let alone would think of actually swinging one at anyone, least of all a future viscount. This, he thought. This is why I continue to put myself in your path. You surprise me and I…like it.
In the end, she didn’t try to assault him, merely blew out a long breath and said in a clipped tone, “I am feeling a bit faint, I think I need to sit down. Excuse me.” She strode off quickly, looking like she wanted nothing more than to run away from him as fast as possible. He let her go, remaining on the bridge, but watched her as she reached Jocelyn, gave her a swift kiss on the cheek, and walked towards the line of carriages waiting on the road lining the park. Henry Astley watched with an annoyed expression on his face, obviously having been planning to ask Eleanor to walk with him before she raced away. Silver lining.
“Did you insult the girl’s mother, Alec?”
Daniel met him atop the bridge, grinning widely.
“What do you mean?” Alec asked innocently.
Daniel huffed out a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so eager to get away from you, especially not a woman. Normally they must be pried off of you with the force of ten men.”
Alec laughed at that. It was almost true.
“She was feeling faint is all. Being in my presence can be quite overwhelming, as you can imagine,” he said with a rakish grin. “How goes your hunt, my friend?”
Daniel exhaled roughly. “It goes, I suppose. I’ve got my eye on Emily Rushing and it looks hopeful. She’s quite shy, but seems very amenable and it would be a good match. Her father owns a textile factory and a partnership with my father’s shipping fleet would be advantageous.”
It had always seemed so odd to Alec that marriage was looked at as a business arrangement, at least for most. A simple partnership that was beneficial, financially or socially or both, to the parties and families involved, but the actual companionability between the bride and groom meant very little. Perhaps that was why he’d been so against the idea of it, against participating in the seasons before now. Alec’s father and mother, and Jocelyn and Callum MacTavish for that matter, were the exceptions to the rule. They’d loved in a way that Alec couldn’t even accurately explain or describe, as if they were truly one soul split into two bodies. After growing up with that as his example of what marriage was, how could he possibly stand to merely choose a woman whose family may be of good stock or aid in his family’s business affairs in some way?
Daniel pulled him back from his thoughts, asking, “So, you’ve got your eye on the Montgomery girl then? Truly?”
“Ah, you know me, I have my eye on every girl within my proximity.”
They both laughed, but Alec’s mind unwittingly drifted back to Eleanor. Before he could think more on her, however, the Wilshire sisters and their mother made their way onto the bridge.
“Stab me, stab me now and toss me into the creek,” Alec said quietly to Daniel, who had to hide his laugh with a cough. Clearing his throat, Daniel greeted them politely, ever the gentleman.
The girls tittered as they inclined their heads. Their mother looked at Alec expectantly and he reluctantly gave in, asking one of the sisters—no idea which—if she would care to walk with him. Daniel dutifully took the other, giving Alec a look that said you owe me.
***
“Father, what are you doing up?!” Alec demanded as he rushed forward. His father had decided to make the trip into London from their country estate, despite his ill health, and the journey had been hard on him. “Where is Bennett?”
Jonathan Kentworth rolled his eyes but allowed Alec to help him across the drawing room and into one of the large chairs by the empty fireplace.
“I am perfectly capable of walking around on my own without supervision, or did you forget that this is my house, Alexander?”
“Bennett isn’t there to supervise, he is there to assist you,” Alec corrected. His father gave him a dry look. “And maybe to supervise, just a bit,” he amended with a small grin.
His father’s lips curled upward, eyes crinkling at the corners. He chuckled, but it quickly turned into a coughing fit. Alec’s chest constricted, the evidence his father was indeed getting worse was here before his eyes and hitting him like a battering ram to the heart. Alec knew this was the reason his father had requested he come home for the season: he knew he didn’t have much longer and wanted Alec settled with a wife when he became the viscount.
A part of him knew he was resisting for more than just the reluctance to stop cavorting and settle down. In his mind, if he didn’t take a wife, didn’t prepare for becoming the head of the Kentworth house, then his father couldn’t leave. Of course, he knew logically that wouldn’t keep his father from dying, but matters of the heart, especially between a son and his father, rarely followed logic. To Alec, he was still a boy, looking up to his father as if the man had hung the moon. Despite the gray streaking his black hair now and the deep lines in his skin that came with age, Alec still saw him as the stalwart, larger-than-life man he’d been in Alec’s youth. It was strange, seeing the present and the past so clearly together at once.
Alec quickly brought his father some water, and the coughing eased.
“Stop looking at me like that,” his father scolded.
“Like what?” Alec asked, taking the cup from his father and setting it on the table.
“Like a doctor looking at a patient.” His father arched a brow and gave Alec a pointed look. Alec chuckled.
“Apologies, father. Old habits and all of that.”
Bennett burst into the room then, and both men turned to look at him expectantly. Bennett had been with them longer than Alec had been alive and was far more than a butler, he was truly a part of the family. He looked at Jonathan with thinned lips and accusation sparking in his deep brown eyes.
“You didn’t hear Margaret screaming for help at all, did you?”
Jonathan’s lips curled upward and he hiked a shoulder, not at all sorry for the ruse. Alec couldn’t help but laugh and though he was still clearly frustrated and worried, Bennett shook his head and smiled.
“I know you both mean well, but all of this fussing is too much.” Jonathan held up his hand when both of them began to speak at once. “I am ill and on my way to the grave. We all know it to be true.” Alec winced, the words hitting him like a physical blow, slicing into his core like a blade. “But,” his father added, leaning forward to make Alec meet his eyes, “I am not there yet. So, can we stop tiptoeing around and treating me like I’m a frail duckling?”
After a few moments, Alec sat heavily in the other chair. “A duckling?” he asked wryly.
“It was the first animal that came to mind.”
“I would have gone with mule. A stubborn ass,” Bennett said quietly, though loud enough that he knew he could be heard. Alec and his father both laughed loudly and Bennet exhaled roughly. “I’ll fetch some food then, shall I?”
When the two of them were alone once more, Jonathan turned to Alec. “And how is the season going for the most eligible gentleman?”
“Father, really,” Alec groaned, leaning his head against the back of the chair.
“Come on, Alec. Humor a dying old man.” Alec shot him a dark look and his father laughed, but thankfully the coughing didn’t follow. Alec ran a hand through his hair, his mind immediately gravitating back to Eleanor.
“Have you ever heard of this MacTavish cousin from America?”
“Can’t say that I have. Jocelyn’s niece?” When Alec nodded, his father looked thoughtful. “I recall Callum saying that Jocelyn was mostly estranged from her family, but he never gave the details. The girl’s mother must be Jocelyn’s sister?”
“I guess the girl had no other family then if she wound up here. Jocelyn seems to adore her, so whatever animosity may have been between her and the sister, it does not appear to have tainted any relationship with Eleanor.”
“Eleanor. Hmm. Pretty name.”
“Pretty girl,” Alec responded before he could stop himself. He cleared his throat. “She’s lovely enough, though being from America you can imagine how…out of place she is at times in the Ton.”
“And yet, you’ve called on her?”
Alec cut his eyes at his father. He had been gossiping with the staff, it seemed.
“Yes, but mostly because I thought it might look rude if I didn’t come to call since we are so close to the MacTavishs of course. Rose is taking to coming out like a fowl to water,” he added, quickly changing the subject.
Jonathan smiled at that. “I had no doubts.” Silence fell between them, comfortable at first, but then becoming thick with unspoken words. “Alec, you need to take this seriously,” his father finally said, though not ungently.
“Father, I don’t need a wife. You said it yourself, you aren’t dying yet. There is no need for me to marry this season. Besides, there is no law that says a viscount must have a wife.”
“Is that truly why you think I called you home this season? Because I think you need a wife simply because you will soon be the viscount? Alec, I called you here because I am worried about you. I feel like you are…floundering.”
“Floundering?” Alec said with a quirk of his brow.
“Yes, ever since…well, ever since it happened, you haven’t been the same. You’ve been restless with no direction. I hear the rumors, I know the types of places you spend your time in and the type of women with whom you keep company. And that is all fine and good, I was quite the rake myself before I met your mother and became the man you know and adore.” Jonathan waggled his eyebrows and gave Alec a mischievous grin, making Alec huff out a laugh. “But I’m afraid that you are using those things to fill a hole inside yourself.”
Alec ran his fingers along the arm of the chair, picking at a loose thread in the embroidery. His father was right of course, but that didn’t mean he wanted to admit it. Admitting to his father that he did feel like something was missing inside him, that he had no idea what he was doing or where he was going, or that he sometimes felt as if his life had no real meaning anymore…that he was lost, well it made him feel like a failure, a disappointment as a man and a son.
“And there’s something wrong with that?” he asked quietly.
“Son, I don’t want you to find a wife because you will be the viscount, I want you to find a wife because I think it will make you happy. I want you to be happy, Alec, and I don’t think that you are.”
Alec’s throat felt thick. His father had always somehow seen to the heart of him, known the deepest secrets and truths Alec kept hidden from the world, hidden even from himself sometimes.
“I…don’t know how to be happy,” he admitted quietly.
“Well, the answer is simple: you find a woman who can teach you.”
As if it were that easy. Again, his mind drifted to Eleanor. She seemed to despise him, and he wasn’t convinced he cared much for her either, but…he felt drawn to her, for whatever reason, and he supposed that was something? Despite his father’s words, Alec still had no plans to actually marry anyone any time soon. But he would keep up the charade, for his father’s sake.
“I shall try,” he lied.