Chapter 5 #2
“You make it sound so wonderful,” she said. The thought of being surrounded by loved ones on a peaceful, secluded farm seemed idyllic.
“Do I?” he asked. “It’s really verra dreadful. I didna mean to misrepresent it so.”
She tilted her head and studied him, his face completely innocent and perplexed. It took her a moment to realize he was teasing her and she swatted his hand with a giggle.
Quinn asked her about her childhood home and she tried to tell the truth as much as she could.
For some strange reason she wanted to tell him more, like how she’d gotten her first starring role as Wendy at thirteen, the spot cream commercial she’d been so chuffed about at sixteen but now prayed never saw the light of day again, the countless auditions and classes, but it only made her melancholy for her old life and against the odds, she was actually enjoying herself with Quinn right now.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed right now. She’d become accustomed to regretfully looking back or desperately hoping for when she’d be able to get to her own time again. She hadn’t felt so relaxed in ages.
Danger! a tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered, but she ignored it.
“And how did a fine young lady like yourself, surrounded your whole life by the gentry, not get scooped up by some lord of something?” he asked, eyeing her boldly.
“I beg your pardon if that’s too forward.
” He didn’t look sorry at all, and she considered ignoring the question, but he seemed awfully sure he knew all about her and she wanted to set him straight.
“I’m not a fine young lady at all,” she said. “Working class all the way. My grandmother worked hard and gave up a lot to make sure I got the best education.”
He frowned then. “I wonder if we didna do well enough by Catie. She canna dance or play any instrument, and barely knows two words of French.”
“And are they swear words?” she asked, nudging him with the pawn she captured. He grinned, and for the first time, she didn’t almost get knocked out of her chair by it, but was glad she was the cause.
“Truly, your granny did well, lass. Ye’re verra accomplished,” he said.
“I wasn’t trying for a compliment.” Lizzie felt her cheeks burning. “And Catie seems to have had a lovely upbringing. Her manners are beyond reproach.”
He kept smiling at her, making her smile back like a loon. “All that from merely trying to find out if ye were attached in any way,” he said.
Her smile disappeared as she remembered herself. Or the way she was supposed to be. “Now, that is too forward, sir,” she said, softening the blow with a wave at the board. “Are you going to retaliate against my ruthless taking of your pawn?”
She managed to recover from his basically asking her if she was single and tried to keep from wondering why he cared.
They played in near silence, though it wasn’t awkward.
He seemed to know she needed a bit of space and she appreciated the quiet friendliness that settled over them.
They could have been at her apartment in her own time, having a nice evening in.
“Are you setting me up?” she asked after she beat him a second time.
There was no way someone who was so bad at chess would ever have suggested the game in the first place.
“You’re going to propose we wager on the next game and then mop the floor with me, aren’t you?
” She leaned back in her chair and enjoyed the false look of outrage that took over his handsome features. She really did like looking at him.
He burst out laughing, unable to keep up his charade. “Ye’re verra savvy for someone who’s so poor at chess.”
“So, you did let me win! And I’m not so bad.”
“Aye, and ye are. It was difficult to lose to ye. But I didna mean to make an unfair bet. I only wanted to see a smile on your lovely face.”
He grinned at her, the monster, and she didn’t know whether to feel insulted or complimented. Her damn cheeks felt hot just because he’d said she was lovely.
“And now flattery. Sir, you are a rogue, indeed.” Lizzie was flustered, not sure if he was teasing her.
His smile seemed open and guileless, but her pounding heart warned her to run.
Everything seemed suddenly dangerous, their shared laughter, the stories of their childhoods, the fact that she was beginning to like him as if he were a real person and not some historical figure she might read about when she made it home.
She got up in a hurry, nearly knocking her chair over backward, and nodded curtly at him. “Good night, Mr. Ferguson.”
He blinked and his smile faltered, almost as if she’d hurt his feelings.
Hell. She had to get out before she reached out to soothe his troubled brow.
Her hand acted on its own accord and actually reached out for him.
She turned and walked from the room at what she hoped was a steady pace, her traitorous hands held tightly at her sides.
When she got in the hallway, she ran until she reached the safety of her room.
She flung away her shawl and loosened her garments, turning to look at her heated face in the scuffed mirror.
Get it together, she warned herself to no avail.
Dear God, his body was amazing and she burned to press against him.
It had been more than a year since she’d had sex.
It would be impossible in this time, when her reputation would be ruined.
She’d become a target for all sorts of lecherous fiends if she so much as made out with someone and the word spread.
She had to keep her job, set a good example for her charges, or she’d be destitute.
And it hadn’t been all that bad after a while.
She enjoyed reading, and learned how to play chess, though apparently she could use some practice.
Many evenings the family she stayed with had musical entertainment to which she’d be invited, and there was never a lack of needlework to do.
If she kept busy, she rarely thought about sex anymore.
Until now. Until bloody Quinn Ferguson. Now she couldn’t think about anything else.
And with him being Catie’s guardian, he was completely off limits, not that he’d ever look twice at her in that way.
Though he flirted outrageously, he seemed to hold her in the highest esteem, which was nice.
It was nice to be held in any esteem. Most people barely saw her except when they needed her to do something.
It sucked being a spinster with no means.
It was far, far better being an independent woman in her own time, even if she didn’t have a whole lot of money then, either.
At least people respected and sometimes even admired her.
She could smile at a man without word getting around that she was of loose moral character and should be disgustingly propositioned at every turn.
She tossed herself onto her bed, completely worked up. She had half a mind to march down to his room and brazenly slip through the doorway and into his bed. She’d bet all her savings he wouldn’t turn her away. And she’d bet any future earnings that it would be a mighty good time, too.
But he wouldn’t respect you tomorrow, she thought sadly.
Stupid eighteenth century. And why did she care at all if Quinn respected her?
In fact, the more she thought about it, he seemed like he was a little more evolved than the average man of his time.
He treated her closer to a person than anyone had in the last year.
Perhaps they could … wait, was she thinking up reasons for it to be acceptable to sleep with Quinn? She groaned. It would never be acceptable! Punching her pillow six times in a row and curling into a ball, she eventually managed to fall asleep.