Wrong Place. Wrong Time. Right Viscount.

Chapter 11

Spending time with Elle was unexpectedly pleasant. Not that Alec expected time with her to be completely torturous, of course, but he hadn’t expected to find her so amusing and companionable. She laughed freely with him now that she didn’t seem to despise him, true mirth coming out in an infectious giggle that he found himself missing when he was away from her. Most ladies he’d been around had perfected their demur, quiet laughter, were taught the proper times to perform it around gentlemen. They were like clockwork dolls, everything designed and delivered properly without fail so long as the gears continued to turn.

Elle was so alive, so uninhibited despite the very inhibiting circumstances of being a lady in the Ton, so truly unorthodox in so many ways, truth be told, but he enjoyed his time with her all the more for it.

They were several weeks into their “courtship” and things were going perfectly to plan. He was fairly sure that Henry Astley wanted to do him serious physical harm for courting Eleanor, but Alec couldn’t seem to make himself care too much about that. In all actuality, it made him grin. Astley could sod off. He was still coming to call on Elle, which was an annoyance, but Alec’s presence had deterred all of the other men, so he still felt as if he were holding up his end of the bargain.

Now, they strolled together through a small park near his home. It was mostly deserted with the exception of himself and Elle, Rose and Percival, and Jocelyn and Callum. They’d had a picnic lunch and now each of the couples had fractured off. Percy was pointing to different flowers in the manicured beds lining the pathway, apparently telling Rose fascinating information about them based on her wide smile and bright eyes. Callum sat with Jocelyn on the blanket where they’d eaten, Jocelyn leaning back against Callum’s chest. They were having some kind of low conversation that had both of their lips curling. Alec had a brief stab of longing. To have that kind of connection with someone, to feel that kind of utter contentment that was plain on both of their faces, in every line of their bodies…

He shook himself and skipped a rock over the smooth surface of the small pond where he and Elle had strolled.

“Well, that was quite pathetic, Lord Kentworth” she said, looking unimpressed. He stared at her incredulously as she took up her own stone and took a turn, hers admittedly skipping much farther than his own and in a much more graceful progression. She winged her brows several times in quick succession in challenge and triumph, and he wasn’t even sure how to respond.

“You know, you are completely unlike any other woman I’ve ever known,” he said honestly.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, you don’t seem quite as…” He searched for the right term.

“Proper?” Elle supplied, adding “boring?” under her breath.

“Yes, both of those things,” he said with a laugh. “It is almost as if I were around another man.” She gave him a look and he hastened to explain. “Not that you are like a man, of course, I didn’t mean that.”

She smirked at him, clearly having a bit of fun at his expense. He didn’t mind, truth be told. He liked the way they pushed and pulled each other, their easy banter and teasing barbs.

“Alec, have you never had a friend who was a woman?” Since their courtship was a farce, they had silently agreed that etiquette could be a bit less formal between them when others weren’t nearby. Now, she usually only used his title in a mocking manner which usually made him laugh. He secretly loved when she called him Alec, the name coming off of her tongue making his pulse jump. He tried not to look at that too closely.

“Well…” He pursed his lips, thinking. “Well, no, I suppose not. Rose, of course, but I look at her like a sister.” Then a thought occurred to him. “Do you have many friends who are men? Is that common in America?”

“I do and it is.” She skipped another rock before turning to face him with a wide smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling slightly. He sighed inwardly. God, she really was beautiful. The late afternoon sun made her hair sparkle like spun gold and the darker flecks of blue in her eyes glitter brightly. His gaze briefly traveled downward, along the delicate column of her throat, over the swells of her breasts, down her body and the curve of her hips. Something he’d been wondering about for weeks sprang to mind, and he figured they were far enough into this strange friendship that he could ask. Elle didn’t seem the type to be offended by much. So, he decided to take his chances. Alec glanced around before voicing the question that had plagued him.

“Well, as a…friend—and physician,” he added quickly, “—may I ask you a question?” She waved a hand towards him in a gesture that indicated he should proceed. “When I was examining your ankle, I noticed that your skin was…ah, quite smooth there.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed, remembering the touch. He suddenly felt the need to loosen his collar around his throat. She blinked, a look of surprise crossing her face. She clearly hadn’t been expecting that to be his question. But the surprise quickly transformed into a look of mischief. He went on hastily, “I have read about some medical conditions which inhibit, uh, hair growth…”

“Nothing medical, Alec. It is quite common where I’m from for women to remove the hair from their bodies,” she confirmed. She stepped forward to walk past him, but stopped as their shoulders met, leaning close. “From all over their bodies,” she said in a soft, sultry voice, communicating…something with her eyes before moving by him. He jolted. No. She couldn’t mean…

He whirled to stare after her as she strolled away. She glanced over her shoulder and the look on her face confirmed his suspicions. God in heaven. The images her words conjured made his pulse jump and his cock harden. He surreptitiously adjusted himself, quickly glancing around to be sure no one had seen, and caught up to Elle.

He had no idea how to respond, so he didn’t, merely walked beside her stiffly while she seemed to be holding back laughter, a secretive smile on her face. Did she know what she’d done? What he would be thinking of for the better part of the evening…possibly the rest of his life? He could scarcely imagine what it might be like, but his mind was running wild, the idea of it so foreign and erotic.

He cleared his throat and she chuckled low. Oh yes, she was well aware of what she’d done to his mind this afternoon. He glanced at her and she gave him a look of pure innocence that he didn’t believe for a moment, but that made his lips curl. Her blue eyes sparkled with…something. Amusement, yes, but something more. Something sensual and alluring.

Suddenly, the images in his mind shifted. It wasn’t just any woman in his mind now, it was Elle. Her skin, smooth and bare to him as he ran his fingers softly over every inch of her…No. He firmly shoved the images away. It would do no good to think such things when nothing could come from the thoughts. Though they allowed themselves to be less formal than what was ordinary, she was still a lady and he was still a gentleman, a future viscount. Unless he married her—which, of course, was out of the question and the reason for this entire farce to begin with—he could never touch her, not in any real way. Not in the way he was suddenly craving like a starving man craves a heel of bread.

“Oh Alec, the things I could teach you,” she said, so quietly he thought he may have even imagined it.

***

“I hear you are courting Jocelyn’s niece,” Alec’s father said with a grin over his glass of brandy.

Alec felt a tiny stab of guilt at his father’s obvious excitement. He’d never lied to his father before, not in any serious way, and now he felt as if he were somehow rising a dying man’s hopes only for them to be crushed. He’s not dying yet, Alec reminded himself firmly.

“I am,” he said, casting his eyes away from his father’s stare, rising to wander to the window. He looked out onto the small garden, missing the grand one at their country manor with a pang. It had been his mother’s pride and joy. She tended it herself, with the help of the staff of course, as it was too large for any one person to maintain, but she had always loved spending hours out among the flowers, nurturing the soil, coaxing the blooms to life. Alec had always associated the smell of dirt and flowers with her, always smelling them on her as she wrapped him tightly in a hug.

She was a bit like Elle, he realized then, doing things differently than what was expected of her. Most viscountesses didn’t dig around in the mud for hours each day, or walk around with dirt smudging their noses, he supposed. Though they were very much a part of the Ton by virtue of their family name and title, the Kentworths, like the MacTavishs, had always mostly kept away from it. Alec suddenly longed for the home he’d grown up in with a fierceness he didn’t quite understand. Thankfully, they would be returning there, at least for a time, in a matter of weeks.

The MacTavishs held a lavish ball at Chestwick Hall each season, and this year’s was sure to outdo all the rest with Rose and Elle both being out in society now. Alec was looking forward to being out of the heart of London for a while, back out in the country where he could breathe. Perhaps Eleanor would enjoy a tour of his ancestral home. He could show her his mother’s beloved gardens, and imagining her there among the flowers made him smile. He turned back to his father, leaning against the windowsill.

“Tell me about her, then,” Jonathan said, gesturing impatiently.

“She is lovely,” he said automatically, the expected gentlemanly response. “Plays piano forte beautifully, is well read. She was brought up in America, so that is a bit odd of course, and her direct family holds no titles, though being connected to the MacTavish family is helpful and Callum has promised a sizeable dowry.”

His father waved all of that away. “Come now, Alec. Tell me about her.” Alec sighed, knowing that his father wouldn’t stand for the practiced, proper responses he knew he should give, the things he should care about when courting a lady. His father had never cared much about all of that. It was one of the many reasons he and Callum MacTavish had gotten on so well. They both could take or leave all of the pompous pageantry of the Ton. They were both all too happy to hunt and fish out in the country, to get their hands dirty and ride through the woods on horses that were meant to run free, not pull carriages down cobble-stoned streets.

So, Alec tried again.

“She’s smart, with a cunning intellect in her eyes, like she is always studying and calculating and learning. She’s kind. You know how the ladies of the Ton can be, fighting like cats in an alley, but Elle isn’t like that at all. She compliments the other ladies—genuinely—fixes fallen curls and missed buttons. She seems to know just what to do or say to make someone feel more at ease. She’s an artist, a truly skilled one at that. You should see the sketch she did of Rosie playing her harp, father. It’s stunning, as if she somehow took Rose right out of the world and placed her directly into the page. It’s remarkable. And she’s got a wit about her that rivals your own.” His father chuckled at that.

“And her looks?”

“God in heaven, she’s beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Her hair is like spun gold, her eyes like sapphires that burn as if a candle rests behind them when she’s excited or contemplating mischief—or vexed with me.” He smiled at the memories of how he could still irritate her like it seemed no one else could. “She—” He stopped himself before he went on about her admittedly enticing chest or the sensual sway of her hips as she walked and danced. “Yes, she’s beautiful,” he said again instead.

His father studied him, a knowing smile on his face. Alec wasn’t sure what that smile meant, but the guilt flared again. His father looked as if Alec was going to propose to Elle any day now. How am I going to explain a lack of one to him?

“She sounds lovely. I should like to meet her, and I haven’t seen Rosie since she officially came out. I’d be remiss if I didn’t congratulate her properly—do you think Callum would kick me if I purchased her another pony?” Alec chuckled. Jonathan loved Alec fiercely, but had always longed for a daughter. He put all of that unused love and affection towards Rose instead, showering her with gifts and being the cherished uncle-type figure in her life. Callum always chided Jonathan about the gifts and letting Rosie get away with murder more times than not, but he always did it with a smile, and Alec knew that Callum didn’t truly mind. “We will send an invitation for dinner immediately.”

***

Though the courtship was just a game, Elle was actually a little nervous to meet Jonathan Kentworth. She wasn’t sure why exactly—she’d heard nothing but good things about the man. Glowing actually. If the term bromance existed here, that would be the exact way to describe the relationship between Jonathan and Callum, the brotherly affection clear in the Scotsman’s voice when he spoke of Jonathan—but she still had those jittery butterflies in her stomach as she made her way to the oversized front door of the Kentworth manor. It was basically a castle, dwarfing even the MacTavish’s London house.

But her nerves eased the second Jonathan greeted her in the foyer, Alec standing by his side wearing the easy smile he only let show around a select few.

“Miss Montgomery, it is a pleasure to meet you, my dear!” Jonathan exclaimed as he took Elle’s hands and kissed the backs like a knight, making Elle giggle quietly. He turned back to his son and quirked a brow, looking so like Alec for a moment that Elle did a double take. Alec was nearly the spitting image of his father, and though Jonathan had more laugh lines and gray in his black hair, the two could be brothers.

“You said she was a rare beauty, but I don’t think you truly did her justice, my boy.”

“Father,” Alec muttered under his breath, exasperated and incredulous. Elle glanced his way and found a slight blush creeping along his cheeks and she grinned. Alexander Kentworth embarrassed? Now this was a sight.

“A rare beauty?” Elle echoed, a shit-eating grin on her face as she eyed Alec.

He looked to the ceiling, as if he were praying for help, or maybe asking God why he was being punished. Jonathan chuckled at that, a deep, hearty laugh that made Elle’s chest warm. Something about the man just made the room brighter, any nerves or awkwardness vanishing in an instant. He didn’t hold himself the way she figured some fancy-titled Englishman would, the way so many others in the Ton did, and it immediately made her like him.

Jonathan offered her his arm and she slid hers around it. He patted her hand as he turned them and strode down a hallway towards what she assumed was the dining room.

“Now, would you like to begin with the expected pleasantries, or should we dive right into embarrassing stories of Alec from his childhood?” He winked at Elle and his green eyes, so like his son’s, were full of mischief.

“Father!” Alec called from behind them, somewhere between amusement and outrage.

Elle laughed loudly and a familiar, bittersweet feeling swept through her chest. Elle and her own father had been thick as thieves, partners in crime and mischief twins to the extreme. Her mom had called them The Hellions. The two of them had gotten shirts made with that scrawled across the front like a team name, and always wore them with pride when they got up to their hijinks, like when she was sixteen and they’d run off and gone skydiving instead of to the grocery store like they’d claimed. They were always getting up to things, playing jokes or sneaking ice cream, sharing secrets. And somehow, within only a few minutes, Elle felt that same connection and relationship bloom inside her with Jonathan. It was startling and painful and so beautiful it made the backs of her eyes burn with sudden tears. She hadn’t ever thought she’d feel that way again, believing that anything even close to what she shared with her dad was gone forever. But here it was, blossoming unexpectedly like a winter rose pushing its way through the frost.

“Oh embarrassing stories, of course,” Elle answered with a wide smile.

Alec caught up to them quickly. “This is very unbecoming of a viscount, father,” he chastised, “very unbecoming.” She and Jonathan both broke into laughter, and though he was pretending to be irritated with the two of them, Elle could see the joy in Alec’s eyes, the…relief? For whatever reason, it brought Alec happiness to see her and his father getting along so well, and, she realized then, that whatever made Alec happy, made her happy too.

“Nonsense,” Jonathan scoffed, “I am the epitome of viscount grace and proprieties…now,” he said with a conspiratorial smile, “shall I begin with the time he ate all the biscuits and blamed a wild goose?”