Waking up from a dead slumber, Nathan realized he had slept better than he could ever remember. His body was relaxed, content - as if he had finally found that place he had been searching for all his life. Snuggling in while he was still in that twilight stage of resting, he felt a warmth flow through his side, causing a smile to form. Whatever was happening, he never wanted it to end.
"Good morning, sleepyhead."
The words were soft and sweet, and it took Nathan a moment to place them as his consciousness finally returned. He felt more than heard the clackity-clack of the train, and he also felt a new sensation that permeated through his very being, a glorious feeling of love.
Jenny. The warmness he felt was her body pressed up against his in their private car. The last two days had been most joyful; the nights were something of a fantasy. His worries were apparently unfounded, he happily thought as his wife snuggled closer.
His smile widened. His wife. Nathan was married to Jenny.
"Hey, beautiful. Did you sleep well?" he said, followed by a kiss on her head as he drew her to him.
"Like a baby," she purred, raising her face to look at him.
"Are you ready for some breakfast?" he enquired, not ready to leave their bed yet.
"I'm not really that hungry...at least not yet."
Her words were all the encouragement he needed to roll over and kiss his wife properly.
Tilly couldn't remember when she felt so happy. The Armistice Day Ball was in six days, and the most wonderful, handsome man in all of America had agreed to take her. She felt like she was floating on air.
The sun had barely raised its head above the New York sky before she began setting things in order, first calling in Ari's tailor, Matteo Raptis, a Greek immigrant whose family had worked in the clothing industry for the past three centuries and was known for their fine craftsmanship as well as their extreme prices. For the elite, to wear a Raptis suit was a symbol of one's status, but for Tilly, it meant getting Lionel the very best on this special occasion.
The Grants entered the dining car.
"I'm famished," Jenny said as they took a seat.
"I wonder why?" he replied with that crooked grin that she loved so much. His implication caused her cheeks to pinken.
"Nathan!" she gently scolded. "Behave."
Grant shrugged, "I was just looking out for your welfare, given all you've been through. Maybe we should order some of everything."
Jenny chose to ignore the comment, instead picking up the menu and perusing it.
"I wonder what is good?" she asked.
"I can vouch for the roast beef sandwich."
The voice came from the table beside them. Both Grants looked over to find a well-dressed gentleman eating alone. He was nice looking with wavy brown hair and blue eyes. His meal was finished, and he was enjoying a cup of coffee as he looked at some paperwork on his lap.
"Thank you," Nathan responded. "That sounds good to me."
"Me too," Jenny replied.
The man nodded courteously.
"Nathan Grant. And this is my wife, Jenny."
"Charles," the man said, rising slightly and extending a hand as he sported a smile. He seemed the friendly sort.
Once they had ordered their food, Jenny felt the man studying them, only it didn't seem he was devising any ill will, more of a curiosity.
"We are on our honeymoon," Jenny offered, Nathan smiling over at her.
"I thought perhaps you might be, young love and all that."
"And you?" Nathan's question came more from his training as a Mountie than interest.
"I... needed some solitude." The remark didn't bring his eyes up as he continued perusing the documents in front of him.
"Solitude? On a train?" Nathan's words brought a chuckle that somehow made him think he knew this man from somewhere.
Looking out the window, Charles replied, "Let's just say I enjoy riding the rails. My current... job... has been consuming, and I decided to take a little time off... well, sort of..." His words were followed by a lifting of the papers on his lap and another laugh. The familiarity struck Nathan again.
Nathan narrowed his eyes. "Have we met before?" he asked, puzzled by the strange feeling that he had seen him somewhere before.
"Don't believe so," the traveler replied as he downed the last of his drink and stood. "It's been a pleasure, but if you will excuse me." Leaning over, he grabbed his derby and began walking towards the door.
"I didn't catch your last name," Nathan said before the man exited.
Placing his hat on his head, the man smirked. "It's Chaplin," he replied as he tipped his hat and departed, leaving two starstruck lovers watching his back as he left.
On Friday afternoon, Lucas visited the doctor and had his stitches removed. He was still feeling a little sore but generally was well enough to begin resuming his usual activities. He was particularly anxious to get the clearance because he wanted to ensure that there would be no problems with him attending the Ball the following week. He was relieved when confirmation came.
Grateful for the time spent healing at the Falkenbergs, he was nevertheless anxious to get out and get some fresh air and exercise since he'd been confined for days. And so, he invited Sam Peterson to join him and Tilly at Coney Island for the afternoon, Lucas still being off work and Sam having the evening off.
Sam chuckled when he heard that he was being invited along on Lucas's date. "You afraid of her or something?"
Lucas shook his head. "Of course not. I just feel it would be better if we were all there together. Since Tilly and I are just friends, she may feel more comfortable."
"Yeah, it's for her sake."
"It is."
"Sure," Sam said dismissively. "Whatever. I'll see you in the morning."
"Keep an eye on the clock. "We only have three hours before we need to get back on the train," Jenny said as she and Nathan walked down a sidewalk in downtown Chicago, heading toward Weeghman Park, home of the Chicago Cubs.
"We have plenty of time," Nathan responded, taking her hand and crossing the street. "You know, I've heard they're looking to get a football team up here."
"Really?"
"Yeah. They're in negotiations to bring the Decatur Staleys on up and maybe have them play at the Cub's park."
"A football team in a baseball park?" she asked. "How would that work?"
"Well, I suppose they'd have to change the grass up a bit, get rid of the bases, maybe plant some additional grass in spots to make room for the right configuration."
"Seems like a lot of expense and trouble to go through."
"Oh, it'd be worth it. People would pay it off with ticket sales in no time."
Jenny shook her head. "I don't understand that game. Grown men running around throwing around that egg-shaped ball so they can collide with each other and wind up getting themselves injured. There's something wrong with that."
Nathan smirked. "Yeah, well, many sports involve a risk of injury and have been promoted for millennia."
"That may be, but I need you to promise me that no son of ours is going to be allowed to play football."
"No son of ours?" Nathan asked. "You mean aside from Luke?"
"Luke, too! I want him to get a good education and go to college in one piece, not be all banged up because he's chasing a piece of pig skin around a field. Do you promise you won't encourage it?"
Grant nodded. "Is baseball okay?"
Jenny shook her head. "Yes. Baseball is fine. I saw a game once when I was in my teens, and we were living in Manitoba. It was amateur, of course, but I enjoyed it."
"I'll have to take you to a game when we get home. In the Spring, the Montreal Royals start playing again. We'll have to take the kids to watch them."
She smiled, grabbing Nathan's arm and holding on to it. "That sounds like a very enjoyable day for us all!"
"There you guys are! We've been lookin' for you all over the place," Sam said as he and a lady friend approached Lucas and Tilly near the arcades. "Ly, Tilly, I'd like you to meet Veronica Renoir, Ronnie, this is my friend Lionel Berrymore….with an E – as I explained, let there be any confusion. And this is our friend, Tilly Rasmussen."
"Pleased to meet you," Tilly said, leaning in and giving the woman one kiss on each cheek.
Lucas gave her a small bow.
"Renoir?" he said. "So, you are French?"
Ronnie laughed. "No. Dutch. My real name is Phoebe Quackenbush. Veronica is just my stage name."
"I see," Lucas replied.
"I told her she should have chosen Vivienne instead of Veronica because it goes with the French last name more, and, it's pretty – just like her."
"Sweet talker," Phoebe snorted. "But Melinda said you wanted me to call myself that because I am always willing to Viv-vah-voom!"
"Oh, my!" Bouchard mumbled, briefly raising and lowering his eyebrows toward Tilly, who bit her lip to keep from laughing.
"Sam says you're working on Broadway?" Tilly asked.
"Yes! I'm so excited!" she replied. "I'm working at the Garrick on George Bernard Shaw's new play, Heartbreak House. It opens this Wednesday. You all should come."
"What role do you play?"
"I'm just an understudy right now to one of the supporting actresses, but when she takes off, I'll step in as the Nurse."
"I see," Tilly responded.
"I've always found Shaw an interesting writer," Lucas responded. "Pygmalion is a delightful example of his work that I saw while in London several years ago."
Tilly and Sam looked at one another as Lucas continued to explain, not realizing the fact that another memory had risen to the forefront.
"It's a clever exploration of the superficiality of social class and how hard work and education will overcome many obstacles, no matter how lowly born one is."
Ronnie was looking at him blankly, so Lucas stopped talking.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
She shook her head and smiled a dreamy smile. "Sammy always said you was a smart one., she snorted.
Lucas looked at Sam, who shrugged helplessly.
"Well, you are."
Bouchard then bowed his head, a dimpled smile appearing. "Thank you, Samuel," he responded. "Shall we take a walk?"
The party of four moved throughout the vast park filled with rides and attractions. They were fortunate to have made it to the venue in its closing days before most of it shut down for winter break, and given that it was a weekday, they also had the benefit of there being a lesser crowd. Having not been there since his childhood and not being able to take advantage of the more daring rides with the ladies along, Sam clearly assumed it was going to be boring, but Ronnie seemed to be enjoying herself, so he played along. Tilly had never been to a large-scale amusement park and was soaking it in, showing the appreciation for new experiences that her family had instilled in her.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" Lucas asked.
"It's enchanting! What fun!" she said, her eyes lighting up at each new attraction. "Oh, is that a Merry-Go-Round?" she said, pointing to the carousel just up ahead.
"Why, yes, it is," he responded. "Would you like to ride?"
"Absolutely!" she beamed.
The two climbed onto the ride, and Lucas helped her mount the horse next to his.
"Isn't it amazing?" she asked, as the cool November breeze blew through her hair. Lucas watched her, her energy, her excitement, her happiness to be there – with him.
"Exquisite," he said, looking at her.
Tilly pretended not to notice his comment but felt butterflies revving up inside her stomach. Look who's talking, she thought.
"You know I haven't been on one of these since I was a child," she said. "I've not been to an amusement park since then either, and never one this big."
"Is that a fact?" he asked.
She nodded. "There was always some danger lurking about. We're a small country, but there have been several attempts to overthrow my father's government. He is well loved by the people, but it seems that there is always someone lurking in the shadows."
"Which is why you and Annie are going by your nicknames."
She nodded. "We needed to blend in. But clearly, the rebels know we are here, so there is no use pretending anymore. I will be attending the ball as the Duchess and Anastasia as Princess Anastasia Louise."
"Why doesn't your father hire professional security?"
"Because I won't allow it, nor will my brother. Our mother taught us to seize every moment and to not allow fear to rule our lives because once it takes hold, there is no more life to be lived."
Lucas nodded. "I would like to meet her someday. I believe I would like her."
Tilly smiled. "She would like you too. You have so many admirable qualities."
"You think so?" he said, his lips moving into an almost smug smile. "Like what? What could impress a Queen?"
"Besides the fact you're devastatingly handsome," she said.
Lucas lowered his eyes and then looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "I don't know about that, but go on…."
"She would be most impressed with your goodness and how you treat her daughter and granddaughter."
Lucas's smile turned humble. "I was only doing what was right. And I always will. As long as I am near you, no harm shall befall you."
The pair rejoined their friends and continued through the park, stopping by the game booths, where Lucas excelled at the ring toss.
"Magician's wrist," he said. He won Annie a stuffed cat and then won again and traded it in for a dog.
"She loves both," he said.
"You noticed," Tilly stated matter of factly.
I notice many things, Lucas thought.
"Oh, look over there! Kewpie dolls!"
Lucas looked at the booth she was pointing to and noted the game was the Wheel of Fortune, one of the more expensive games to play and one that he was convinced was a scam. But the prizes were of higher quality than plush toys and there, nestled among them was a line of composition Kewpie dolls.
"You like those dolls?"
"Yes! I love them. I have a collection at home. I wish I had brought some here. For Annie, of course."
"I could…try…to win you one…or her."
Tilly smiled. "No. The game costs too much. And besides that, I think it's rigged."
Lucas smiled. "Then what else do you want to do?"
"I could stand to eat something," she said, looking toward a little café just to the south of the main buildings, where she could get coffee and tea.
"A little nourishment sounds good," he responded.
Lucas, Tilly, Sam, and Ronnie were seated and soon began to relax into everyday conversation.
"I have to admit, that was more interesting than I thought it would be," Sam said. "Thanks for the invite."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Lucas said.
"Of course, when I choose a place, it's usually a little higher speed than that . Next time we should do automobile racing."
Lucas rolled his eyes. "Please."
"See, there he goes. Ly's one of those 'never can be too careful' types of guys who never takes risks. He misses out on a lot of fun."
Lucas furrowed his brow. "I take risks! I moved in with you, didn't I?"
"Fair point, but I'm talking about doing anything crazy. You're a real strait-laced, play-it-by-the-book kind of guy. You never….color outside the lines."
"And what's wrong with that?" Lucas replied.
"It's boring."
"He's definitely not that," Tilly responded.
"You would say that," Peterson replied. "Look at you two sitting there together, leaning into each other, thinking the same thoughts, eating the same foods, bein' so polite. Why the two of you should just get married."
Lucas and Tilly's eyes went wide as their friend continued.
"By the way, I'm not saying that as a criticism; it's just how you're made, and that's okay, I guess."
Lucas stared at him and folded his arms in front of his chest. "Are you finished?"
Sam shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."
"Good. And you're all wrong about me."
"How so?" Peterson asked.
"I am not afraid at all to take risks. I just use common sense."
"Common sense?"
"Yes. If I had a car, I wouldn't go out and race it. The roads are too pitted, and it might damage it. I'd opt for something like….like…." his eyes widened. "A motorcycle! I'd get a motorcycle!"
"Oh, no you wouldn't!" Tilly responded.
"And why not?"
"Too dangerous. We just got you out of the hospital."
"How about something less dangerous?" Sam asked.
"Such as?" Lucas asked.
"A dare," Sam responded. Lucas tilted his head. "I dare you to go back into the game area and steal Tilly one of those dolls."
Lucas raised his eyebrows. "You want me to commit theft?"
"That's right."
"Break one of the ten commandments."
"Just a little bit."
"Commit a crime."
"Yeah, she likes them. Go get her one. Take the risk. Unless you think she's not worth it…."
Lucas chuckled and shook his head, looking between Tilly, who was smirking, and Sam, who appeared ready to declare victory.
"You want me to steal….."
"See! He's stalling. I told you that you won't take chances."
"What do I get if I do it?" he asked.
Sam thought for a moment. "Tickets for you and Tilly to go Ronnie's play. It's all sold out, I understand, but we know some people."
Lucas looked at Tilly who appeared excited at the prospect.
"Fine. I'll do it! We can go as friends." Lucas responded.
The word friends felt strange to both Lucas and Tilly as they each realized that their relationship was morphing into something more. But Lucas was resolved this is how it had to be.
"What?" Sam asked.
"I'll go get Tilly a doll."
"You will? Now, I don't mean to purchase her one from a store. I mean, go take one from that vendor we saw- which would mean breaking the law."
"Yes," he nodded, standing to walk inside. "I understand."
"Lionel, this is foolish," Tilly said. "You don't want to get arrested."
"I won't," he replied. "Trust me. I'll be back."
"Oh, no. We're coming with you," Sam replied.
"Why? Are you thinking I would cheat?"
"I'm not thinking anything. I'm just observing," Sam said.
Lucas looked at Tilly, who had her hand in front of her mouth and simply shrugged.
"Fine. You can all come along."
The group slipped across the street and behind the game booth, standing there until it appeared no one was around. They then moved to an adjacent booth while Lucas raised the rear curtain for the Wheel of Fortune game booth. He turned to Tilly and pointed, mouthing the words, "This one?"
"Lionel, you don't have to…." She responded as a woman at the booth next to where they were at turned and looked at them as she was straightening her own prizes. Sam slipped her a dollar to keep quiet.
"I know," Lucas whispered. This one?"
She looked at him and then nodded.
Lucas reached through the curtain and carefully removed one of the dolls, slipping it inside his jacket. Then he turned quickly, catching back up with his friends. The doll was rather large, so he could only conceal part of it.
"Let's go," he responded.
Tilly bit her lip hard as he took her hand and led her, Sam, and Ronnie away from the booth. When they reached a respectable distance, he handed the doll to Tilly and then faced Sam.
"So, I did it. Do you take it back?" Lucas asked.
Sam looked around and nodded. "I'll pick up your tickets this afternoon. I guess you're not as scared of risk as I thought you were. Now do something about your girl"
Lucas shook his head and continued to talk "I'm not afraid, just discerning. I choose my battles. There's no sense in being stupid about what I'm doing." The group walked toward the area where cabs would take them home. About 100 feet from the exit, Bouchard stopped and began patting his jacket, looking concerned.
"What's wrong?" Tilly asked.
He furrowed his brow and looked at the group. "I…I forgot something. I must have left it at the café. You go on. I will catch up."
"What? What did you forget?" Sam asked, throwing his hands out. Before he could say more, Lucas had turned around and sprinted toward the gaming booths.
Sam squinted his eyes and looked at Tilly. "He's going in there to pay for that doll isn't he?'
Tilly began to laugh, then nodded adoringly in Lucas's direction. "I'm sure he is."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Come on," he said, taking them back toward the booths. "We're going to watch this cheater in action."
The trio caught up and then peeked around a nearby corner just in time to see Lucas standing at the doll booth with money in hand. He and the Asian vendor were having what appeared to be a tense exchange.
"Twelve dollars!"
"Come on, man, that's almost twice what they are worth."
"Twelve dollars."
"What about nine? That's two dollars more than what they would cost retail."
"Twelve dollars. Not a penny less, or I call the law," the man said, crossing his arms in front of him.
Lucas looked at his pocket watch and sighed, then finally gave up, counting out the out the full amount and handing the cash to the vendor.
"This go as a lesson to you! Crime doesn't pay."
"Paid you pretty well," Lucas mumbled as he turned around and began walking toward the exit.
Rounding the corner, Lucas immediately froze as he came face-to-face with his friends.
"As I was saying," Sam said, taking Ronnie's hand. "Old Ly here, he's a play it by the book, don't color outside the lines kind of guy." He began walking away.
An embarrassed Bouchard lowered his head and began to follow them out, rehearsing in his mind how foolish they all must think him to be – that was until Tilly looped her arm through his.
"I'm glad you paid him," she said softly. "You are an honest man—one of the things I like most about you."
Lucas looked down at her and smiled, then put his arm around her shoulder as they continued on their path.
"Oh, Nathan! We've got to hurry! We're going to miss the train."
"I can walk quickly; it's you in those shoes that are holding us back."
"It's not my fault. I didn't choose to take us to see the Viking Ship after we returned from the ball stadium, knowing it was so far out of the way. We should have stayed put."
"Hey, it was only a couple of miles away. I figured we had time. Besides, it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing."
"So is our honeymoon," she replied.
Grant nodded, not wanting to argue but also knowing that his insistence had now put pressure on their schedule. He stopped. "Hop on my back."
"What?"
"Get on my back. You can ride piggy-back style until we reach Union Station. That's just a couple of miles. We can go a little faster."
"You can't carry me two miles!"
"Want to bet?" he said with a smirk. "In Mountie training, we were forced to carry all sorts of heavy loads…not that you're heavy or anything."
Jenny laughed. "If you say so….."
"Now you sound like Allie."
Jenny moved over to him, and he bent down, allowing her to climb onto his back as if he were a horse. Her slender legs slipped out from under her skirt, and she wrapped them around him, then held on to his neck as he stood upright. Just feeling her warmth against his back brought a different kind of warm feeling to Grant's being, which he had to put out of mind at that moment. Prior to getting married, this was usually not a struggle, but at that moment he would have done just about anything to be back in their cabin together alone. But his focus was on getting them there on time.
"Are you sure I'm not too heavy?" she said after Grant had walked a couple of blocks. "I don't want to tire you out."
"You've been tiring me out this entire trip. Why should this be different?" he smirked.
"Oh, you fiend!" she responded, slapping him playfully.
Nathan laughed, then kissed her arm that was wrapped around his neck. "Light as a feather," Nathan replied, rounding the corner in the direction he thought would lead them to the train station. Unfortunately, it was leading them to someplace else.
"So, Ly tells me that you've got this fancy dress ball thing going on next week," Sam said as they neared the taxi stand.
"Yes," Tilly said. "It's in celebration of Armistice Day. General Pershing will be there."
"Really?! I love Pershing. He's my favorite General!" Ronnie said.
Lucas chortled under his breath, winking at Tilly.
"And Ly's taking you?" Sam said.
"Yes, he is," Tilly responded with a smile, squeezing Lucas's arm.
"See, what'd I say….wedding bells."
Lucas looked at Sam sternly. "That's enough, Samuel."
Sam looked at Ronnie. "Ly likes to use my formal name when he's upset. Makes him sound authoritative."
"I am not upset," Lucas replied. "It's just you're being ridiculous."
Tilly immediately let go of his arm, but Lucas did not take the hint. "Tilly and I are friends and only friends. We can't be more, and you know the reason why."
"Why?" Ronnie asked.
Lucas didn't answer her. "I believe our taxi is over there."
"Because he's afraid to take a risk. Tilly's a real catch, and he needs to move out on this thing…."
"You've said enough, Sam," Lucas said, his temper beginning to rise. "You needn't say anymore."
Nathan set Jenny down after checking his watch and realizing that he'd taken a wrong turn on the way to the station.
"Are we lost?" she asked, noting his concern.
"No, no, not at all," Nathan said. "I just don't know where we are."
Suddenly, a rapid cracking sound was heard from around the corner, and Nathan stood alert.
"Tommy gun!" he said, turning toward Jenny and looking at a nearby alley. "Go over there and get down. Hide behind those stairs."
"What? You're coming with me, aren't you?" she asked.
"I'll be right there."
"Nathan, this isn't Hope Valley. You aren't even armed."
Grant opened his jacket, revealing a small holster with a Smith and Wesson Hammerless pistol inside. Her eyes widened.
Making sure she was safe, Nathan made his way to the corner to see what he could find. He was shocked to see a young man lying in the street and another standing in front of a nearby apartment building brandishing a machine gun.
"I know you're in there, Bugsy! You can't hide."
"He's not here!" a woman shouted from inside an apartment.
"Then where is he?"
"I'm not going to tell you! He hasn't been here in over a week.
"Oh, you're going to tell me, alright," the man said.
Nathan snuck around the corner and hid behind an automobile, eyeing the body in the middle of the street and assuming he'd be armed. While the man with the gun made his way to the apartment door, Grant slipped to the other man and felt for a pulse to make sure that he was no longer a threat.
Retrieving his own gun, Nathan checked to see that it was ready and then made his way quietly toward the man with the Tommy Gun. The hoodlum was pounding on the door and making such a ruckus that he didn't hear Nathan's steps as they neared.
Jenny became worried when she couldn't hear anything and slipped out from under her cover, slowly making her way toward the corner.
"Get your hands up where I can see them," Nathan said, placing the cold steel of his 38 against the back of the guy's neck.
At that moment, a blaring police siren sounded out of nowhere, and Nathan instinctively turned toward it. The man with the gun immediately slammed himself backward into Grant, causing Nathan to tumble backward down the stairs onto his back. He lifted his Tommy Gun and took aim. A shot rang out. Time stood still.
For the ride home and the rest of the night, Tilly was quiet. She took dinner separately from the Falkenbergs and Lucas, and stayed in her room with the excuse that she was tired.
On Saturday, it was more of the same. She stayed in her room all morning and took a ride into town with Annie without communicating with him at all. This caused Lucas to worry – and to miss her – which in turn, caused him to worry more. His heart was not his own.
When she and Annie arrived back at the estate later that afternoon, he met them in the foyer, greeting them with a small magic trick that delighted the little girl.
"When you have a moment, I need to talk with you," Lucas said, looking between Tilly and Annie, whom Tilly promptly dismissed.
Tilly nodded toward the library. "This sounds serious, are you okay?"
"Fine," Lucas responded, watching her as she walked over toward the fireplace and looked down. "It's just…I wanted to say how truly appreciative of all that you have done, all that your family has done, as I have been healing."
"Lionel, you did everything for us. It was the least we could do," she responded.
"Perhaps, but your generosity toward me in caring for me and letting me stay at this beautiful estate was above and beyond, and I truly thank you."
She smiled.
"With that said, I believe it's time for me to return to the apartment. I have imposed upon you and your friends…."
"Lionel, you're no imposition," she said with a slight urgency.
"Perhaps a poor choice of words," he said. "But the truth of the matter is that I live in Greenwich, and you live on Long Island. And while your hospitality is without equal, now that I am well, it borders on trespassing."
"I do not feel that way."
"I know you don't because you're such a kind woman. But I feel as if, at this point, it's taking advantage, and truly, it would be better if I go back with Sam."
Tilly lowered her eyes, her mind immediately reminding her heart of Michael's rejection and the words he said when they broke up... You are undesirable. You are a fool. No man will ever love you. She felt tears building up inside of her and a tightness in her throat, but she restrained them. "Will you at least stay through the ball? Annie truly enjoys having you here."
Lucas swallowed, his heart feeling the sting of those words and his mind wondering What about you? "I can do that," he said. "But after the ball, I must return."
"I understand," she said. "Was that all you needed?"
Lucas sensed something in her that he wasn't quite sure of. He felt it in the pit of his stomach. Had he hurt her? "Yes. For now."
She nodded. "Well, I need to go do, um…some things. I will see you later tonight at dinner."
"Certainly," Lucas said as she smiled a smile that didn't reach her eyes and walked away.
With the afternoon off, Lucas decided to take a bicycle into town. The weather was quickly changing, and with the busyness of his schedule the following week and predicted stormy weather, he knew that this might be his last opportunity to enjoy the North Shore and its beauty. He rode for a while until he reached the town of Sea Cliff, a quaint village that was quite different from the hubbub of the city. Pulling his bike to the side of the road, he wiped his brow, took a seat on a park bench, and then sat and watched the people.
A car pulled up outside a shop, and a chauffeur let a wealthy young mother out along with her son. Lucas watched as the mother looked at her child and took his hand, and then as she stopped and shook her head. Reaching into her pocketbook, she pulled out a handkerchief and then dabbed it on her tongue, using the wettened cloth to wipe a smudge from the child's face. People are interesting, he thought, and they have a lot more in common with each other than they typically give themselves credit.
He then watched as the little boy raised his arms to be picked up. The mother smiled and complied, placing him on her hip as they entered the store.
Tilly would be a wonderful mother for our children, he thought. His heart jumped in his chest, and he took a sharp breath inward. What was he doing? Immediately, a feeling washed over him that he couldn't quite classify. He had at first considered it could be guilt, and yet he felt none of that at this point – at least not toward the elusive young lady whose presence lingered in his mind (which was strange in itself). But if it wasn't guilt, what was it?
"He's afraid to take risks." Sam's words rang in his mind. Was that it? Of course, it was part of it. What if he were to risk loving her? What if he then found out he wasn't allowed to love her? That would be disastrous to both of them. And yet…had he fallen already? She was wonderful. How could he not?
"Don't do this! You can't do this!" he said out loud. "You'll just break her heart."
Lucas looked up when a confused-looking gentleman stopped in front of him. "Who are you talking to?" he asked.
Lucas blushed with embarrassment. "Um, no one," he replied, standing up and walking back to the bicycle. Mounting it, he began to ride again back toward the mansion. "You just need to get this out of your head. She's too good for you. You have too many problems. You'll only bring her pain. You're not worthy of her. You're not worthy. STOP IT!"
Bouchard argued with himself until hot tears began to form Why did he feel this way? Finally, he pulled off to the side once more, next to a rocky area along the water. He laid his transport on its side in the grass and went to the water to gather his wits. It would do nobody any good if he returned to the Falkenbergs in such a state.
Standing on the shore, he began to consider his life. "Why is this happening, God? Why did you do this to me? Send me a sign that you hear me at all."
All was silent but for the ocean waves. If God was talking, Lucas wasn't hearing. Returning to his bike, he made his way back to the estate.
Jenny pressed a kiss to Nathan's temple as she lay next to him on the bed, running her fingers through his hair and listening to the sound of her husband's breathing as it aligned with the sound of the moving locomotive.
"You need to sleep," he said softly.
"I've tried to. But I can't."
He opened his eyes and looked over at her. "The doctor said I'll be fine, thanks to you. Just a few bruises from when I landed on the sidewalk."
"Nathan, he could have killed you. I could have lost you the way Lucas lost Elizabeth before we even got started."
"But he didn't. You thought quick enough to reach the other guy, pull out his gun, and take the shot. Quite impressive, by the way. You saved my life and got a guy the Chicago police have been looking out for for a long time. He will likely spend the rest of his life in prison, and you likely saved a lot of people as a result... God was watching out for us."
Jenny laid her head down and wrapped her arms around him. "I was frightened."
Nathan turned toward her and pulled her to him. "So was I," he said. "But we're okay. The gangster is behind bars, are we'll be pulling into New York in the morning. Let's look at all of the things that went right and not worry about what could have gone wrong."
She shook her head. "I love you."
"Not as much as I love you," he said, kissing her head and then lowering his lips to hers and lingering there.
The next morning, both Lucas and Tilly tried to pretend everything was normal between them, but it was not. Prior to going to dinner the previous evening, they had both resolved, internally, that their friendship was important enough to preserve and that they would accept the fact that they could only ever be friends. But in each other's presence, it was an entirely different situation.
Lucas couldn't stop thinking about her beauty, both externally and internally. He thought of Sam's insistence that they would one day marry. And he thought about how much he would like that. She would be a wonderful life partner.
Tilly was awestruck. He was wonderful in every way—kind, a great listener, great with children, a bit of a romantic. She knew she shouldn't, but how could she do anything other than be in love with him? Her head could say no, all it wanted, but her heart told her otherwise. She was in so much trouble.
They spent much of the day apart, other than attending morning services at the local Lutheran church together, as Tilly always did. They gathered again once more for dinner, with just the adults, as Annie had gone to bed early feeling tired after a busy day.
"And so, tomorrow's the 8th," Ari said, handing a servant his empty dinner plate, "That means the tables and chairs should be arriving along with all of the equipment the caterers will need to set up. And, of course, we will pick up our tuxedos from in town."
Lucas nodded. "Got it. November 8th. My birthday."
Ari opened his mouth to say something else but stopped as all eyes turned toward Lucas, who, again, was oblivious to what he had said.
"I'm surprised they were able to make the alterations that quickly. Your tailor is expeditious!" Lucas smiled, taking a sip of wine and tilting it toward Falkenberg. "What? Why are you all looking at me that way?" he asked, lifting his napkin to dab his face.
"Tomorrow's your birthday?" Tilly asked.
"Pardon me?"
"You just said tomorrow is your birthday. November 8th."
Lucas furrowed his brow. "I did?" When she didn't respond he began to think through her comment. "November 8th, 1885…" he looked up at her and smiled. "Yes! That was the day I was born!"
Tilly laughed. "So, you'll be 36…no, wait…35! Do you remember anything else?"
The Falkenbergs leaned forward, just as interested as she was, and watched as Lucas processed the information. He closed his eyes.
"Yes….I believe I may be Canadian. Born…perhaps in Quebec?"
"That would explain your fluency in French," Tilly said. "Lionel! That's wonderful!" Tilly turned to Ari and smiled "That's something to go on with the investigation, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," Ari replied while Lucas looked on apprehensively. He knew it was huge but was unsure of what they'd find. "I'll ask my agents to contact their counterparts in Canada," Falkenberg continued. "Birth records can be scarce, but perhaps the Canadian census can tell us something. The Crown has always been good at maintaining those sorts of records ever since the early 1800s. It may take a few days to gather the records, but I'm sure they will be happy to help."
"Splendid! It's starting to come back," Tilly said, reaching for Lucas's hand.
"It is," he nodded again, taking a sip of wine.
"We need to celebrate!" she said. "I know, let's throw you a birthday party!"
Lucas shook his head. "That's entirely unnecessary."
"I think it's entirely necessary. You remembered and it's your special day. What sort of cake do you like?"
Lucas opened his mouth to say more, but Ottilia and Sophia immediately began chattering. He looked to Ari for help but found none. How could he tell her that he wasn't in a mood to celebrate, that the day just felt like any other day to him?
"We could have it on the veranda," Tilly said.
"Tilly," Lucas said, but the women continued, so he said it again. Finally, he said rather loudly, "OTTILIA!"
Tilly stopped and turned to him, and he lowered his eyes. "I'd rather you not. I don't need a fuss made over me. I'd prefer just to be left alone."
Tilly didn't know what to say as she wasn't sure what was driving his desire to forgo a celebration, but she nodded. "Alright. If that's what you want."
He nodded. "It is. Please, excuse me."
Lucas stood and left the table, leaving his dinner guests disconcerted. Sophia patted Tilly's shoulder in reassurance, but all Ottilia could think was he didn't want to be with her.
Lucas finally closed his eyes around twelve-thirty in the evening, and his mind immediately went to a place where he felt a perfect sense of calm. He wasn't in New York, but he was someplace familiar with people whose names and faces he couldn't make out, but he knew they were important to him. Everything felt peaceful like it should be. He saw himself driving along the beach in a black automobile with the top down, feeling the warm sun and ocean breeze caress his skin and hearing laughter next to him. He turned and smiled at Tilly, whose fair features and luminescent complexion seemed to radiate the sun itself. She was smiling at him, and his heart felt such joy inside.
But seconds later, he found himself in a different place. Transplanted to someplace dark, a city street, not New York, he heard the sound of a woman weeping. In the vision, he was transported back to that empty saloon. He saw the gun go off and a man's smirking face. Then he saw the same image of a woman's hand hitting the floor that he had seen before. He shuddered.
"Elizabeth!" he said out loud, his eyes opening and staring blankly at the ceiling. Lucas's heart slammed against his chest wall as he attempted to catch his breath and recapture the memories that he'd had just a moment before, but before they could solidify, he had the distinct feeling he was being watched. Slowly, he turned his head and saw two pretty blue eyes hidden behind a pair of round glasses staring at him. He jumped and then relaxed.
"Are you okay, Mr. Lionel?" Annie said, standing at the side of his bed.
Lucas swallowed, trying to focus on the concerned child even as he lamented the dissipation of details about his dream that had been so lucid only moments before. He took a deep breath and managed a small smile.
"I'm fine, Sunshine. What time is it?"
Annie went to his nightstand, picked up his pocket watch, and read it.
"The big hand is on the eleven, and the little hand is near the seven. Six fifty-five, she said, climbing up to sit on the mattress.
"Very good," he responded, inwardly grimacing at the couple of hours of sleep he was missing due to her visit. "Is there something wrong that you stopped by so early?"
Annie pulled her arms inward, crossing her palms in front of her. She nodded. "Aunt Tilly said you're going to move back with Mr. Sam."
Lucas nodded. "That's right. After the ball."
"But you're not supposed to go away. You're supposed to stay with me and Aunt Tilly."
Lucas smiled softly. "As much as I would love to do that, this estate is not my home. I live with Mr. Peterson."
"No. You belong here!" she said, appearing ever so serious. "I shall have my daddy ask grandfather to order it so. You cannot go! We won't allow it!"
Lucas lowered his eyes, sitting up further in bed as he searched for words to mollify the five-year-old and teach her a lesson on how life actually worked. While he was considering this, Tilly walked down the hallway, having heard her ward's voice coming from the direction of Lucas's room. She was coming to retrieve her. As she approached the door, she overheard Lucas's explanation to Annie.
"Sunshine, while I do like your Aunt Tilly very much, you just can't force someone to stay with someone else against their will."
Tilly felt her throat tighten and leaned against the wall to steady herself. The night had brought her rest, but the morning once again brought her inner turmoil.
"But you're meant to be with Tilly! You belong together. You're meant to be with us!"
"We will still see each other."
"It's not the same. I don't want you to go." With that, Annie began to cry, and Lucas pulled her over to him and held her.
"There, there, Sunshine. We'll have none of that."
Tilly knocked on the door frame, capturing Lucas's attention. He sat up straighter, quickly running his hands through his unruly hair, attempting to tame it.
"Good morning," he said with a slight smile. "I have a visitor."
"I see that," Tilly said. "Now, Annie. What did I tell you about bothering Mr. Lionel?"
Annie turned toward her aunt, her chin quivering. "I thought I could get him to stay."
Lucas rubbed the little girl's back. "She's not bothering me. And I explained that after I move out, we will still see one another. So, there's no need to cry. Let's just enjoy the next few days we have left here together."
Tilly faked a smile. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. Maybe we can do a celebration of sorts to commemorate Lionel's healing. Shall I have the kitchen make some blueberry pancakes?"
Annie's eyes widened, and Lucas raised his eyebrows. He tilted his head toward Annie. "Does that sound good?"
Annie reluctantly shook her head yes, then jumped down from the bed.
Tilly looked at Lucas, her saddened eyes catching his attention. "I'll get her out of here so you can get dressed. Will we see you at breakfast?"
"Yes, I will be right down," he replied. "Are you alright?"
She smiled softly and nodded. "I'm fine."
Nathan and Jenny arrived in New York early Monday morning. They immediately gathered their luggage and began to make their way to the street to find a cab. However, they were interrupted on their route by a young man about seventeen years old in a newsboy cap holding up a sign.
"Mr. and Mrs. Grant….calling Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Grant."
The couple looked at each other and made their way to the messenger.
"I'm Nathan Grant," the former Mountie said. "Did you need something?"
The man smiled. "Yes, sir. There's been a change in your accommodations."
Nathan furrowed his brow, feeling nervous. "What sort of change?"
"You are no longer staying at the Cambridge but are being moved to the St. Regis."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand," he replied.
"Courtesy of Martin and Helen Bouchard, ' a wedding gift,' they say. They explained it all in a note in the limousine."
"Limousine?!" Grant replied, looking at his wife. Jenny didn't know what to say and simply took his arm and led him toward the door.
Outside, they were greeted by a chauffeur who led them to a Cadillac Type 51 limousine. He motioned for the porter to help with their luggage, but Grant refused, opting to load the bags himself while Jenny took a seat. Around a minute later, he joined her, and the car pulled out of the station.
"What's that?" he asked, looking at the note she was reading.
"It's a letter from my parents, my mother, specifically. I can tell by the way she writes. She and my father are wishing us a happy honeymoon and hope that we will not be cross with them as they decided to treat us to a few 'upgrades' on our trip. She explains about the hotel and also says there are some tickets in our room to a play Wednesday night at the Garrick Theater on Broadway. It's written by Bernard Shaw, an acquaintance of hers. She indicates that they've also arranged for us to have a fitting at one of the finest tailors in New York City, a Mr. Raptis and I can have my choice of a selection of ballgowns from Maison Blanche."
"Ballgown? For a play?"
"No. A ball."
"As in a big event where there's dancing, um…no thank you."
"Don't reject it until you have heard about it," Jenny said. "They've arranged for an invitation to an Armistice Day Ball being held at the home of a business colleague of my father's, Mr. Ari Falkenberg. It seems General Pershing himself will be in attendance, and as a special treat to you as their son-in-law, they have arranged for you to meet him."
Nathan's eyes went wide. "General Pershing? Are you serious?!"
"Very," she replied with a sigh. "I hope you're not upset about them doing this for us. I think they are just so excited to be having a family again, they may be getting carried away a bit."
Nathan smirked. "I'll let it pass for now, but I hope they realize that I'm my own man, and I'll provide for my family without their help."
"They do," she replied. "I believe Father is just calling in a few favors. It probably didn't cost them that much seeing they are friends with the Falkenbergs, and the Astors, owners of the St. Regis are old time friends"
"Astor? As in John Jacob Astor?" he asked.
"Yes. Of course, I was too young to remember him, but my mother said that Mr. Astor and his wives used to visit them when they were in New Orleans. She showed me a photograph of our entire family posing with his first wife, Ava, shortly after they got married. She was with child at the time. This was just prior to my being kidnapped."
"Incredible. You learn something new every day," he said, privately considering how different his life would be living with a Bouchard.
Tilly felt nervous as she slipped in through the back door of the library and carried in the gift she'd purchased for Lucas earlier that morning. She hid it behind a door before walking any further in order to maintain the surprise. She knew that he'd said "no" to a birthday party, but Sam insisted on doing one anyway, and she wasn't going to come empty-handed to their story hour that morning. She was just grateful that she could find a retailer that was open that early in the morning to purchase something she hoped he would treasure. But still, she was nervous. He had said no, and they were doing it anyway. She hoped the presence of children would assuage his upset.
Stepping into the dressing room, her heart fluttered when she saw him reading over their 'script' dressed in an 1800s costume, complete with a blue-grey waistcoat and vest. He was the epitome of a Dickensian gentleman. He looked up when he saw her and gave her a shy smile that made her want to swoon. Annie walked in behind her and immediately went over to him for a hug.
"Did your errand go alright?" he asked Tilly after greeting Annie.
"Yes, it did," she replied. "And I see you made it here alright?"
"Yes. No trouble at all," he said as Sam walked behind him with a birthday cake in hand. Peterson looked to Tilly for where to hide it until they were ready for it, and when she motioned with her head for him to just get it out of there, he did so—Lucas being oblivious the entire time.
A few minutes later, the pair joined Sam in the Children's Room and had a relatively full house to entertain. When they were finished, Bouchard took off his cravat and immediately began cleaning up, as was his habit. While he was occupied with that task, Sam retrieved the cake from a supply closet, and Annie went for Tilly to retrieve their presents.
Sam set the cake on a table behind Lucas and put a candle in the cake. It wasn't until Lucas heard the striking of a match behind him that he had any clue as to what was happening, and before he could even ask what this was, Sam started with great flourish a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday to You.
Bouchard blushed, looking at the cake and then nervously between Sam and Tilly, whose anxious expression caused him to immediately school his expression into one more nonchalance. He even managed a soft smile as some of the children, who by now were being picked up by their parents, handed him homemade gifts, mostly drawings or trinkets created by gluing sticks and other items together.
Annie handed him a drawing of what he could clearly tell was himself in Robin Hood Green, Tilly, Annie and another child. When he asked who the other child was, she said, point blankly, "My future cousin."
Lucas cleared his throat, not daring to look at the mortified Tilly. "That's a good drawing, Annie. I love it," he said graciously, giving the little girl a hug.
When the rest of the children had gone, Annie turned to Tilly.
"What about your present, Aunt Tilly?"
Lucas looked at Tilly with a wary expression but said nothing as Tilly picked up a book with a ribbon around it and then handed it to him.
Lucas took it and examined the spine. The moment he saw it, he knew precisely what it was, and his face turned flushed.
"The Works of Longfellow, signed by the author himself," Lucas said quietly.
"Yes," she said. "I saw you looking at it when we were at the bookstore the other day and…."
"Take it back," he interrupted.
Tilly stopped, looking briefly at Sam with alarm before looking back to Lucas. "Take it….?"
"It's not appropriate. It's too expensive. That book cost almost a week's salary for me and…."
"Lionel, the money doesn't matter to me, I…."
"It matters to me, Tilly. You shouldn't be spending so much on me. I'm just your friend, and at this point, I think that's all I can ever be," he said, looking over at her with an expression that was part hurt, part anger, and part love.
Annie's lips quivered, and she went over to Sam, wrapping her arms around his leg. The older man patted the child's back.
"I only wanted to make you happy," Tilly said.
"Then you should have done as I requested and not make a big deal of this. It's just a birthday."
Tilly's expression fell, and she raised her hand to her mouth. "I….excuse me…" she said, turning and running from the room. Annie broke away from Sam and followed her.
Sam stared at Lucas, his expression full of anger.
"This is not my fault!" Lucas slapped the book down on the table and rubbed his hand over his face. "She shouldn't have done this."
"She didn't," Sam barked. "I pushed her into it. She wanted to obey your wishes, but I thought your sorry self could stand to have some friends around celebrating your birthday."
"Sam, you shouldn't have…."
"Clearly. You are bound and determined to be alone and unhappy the rest of your life, allowing some phantom to destroy every chance at happiness you have."
"That's not fair."
"Neither is life, but it's true. Go ahead, be an island. Don't make any attachments. Keep your life in limbo over some woman that may or may not exist from your past. Throw away everything you have for some glimmer of a possibility that may never come to fruition. Be a coward. Don't take risks. Hide. Just don't expect us to support you."
Before Lucas could say more, they heard a door slam. Seconds later, a tearful Annie ran into the room.
"Aunt Tilly went away!"
Lucas looked at Sam, whose expression tightened further. "You made this mess! Go after her!" he ordered.
Lucas didn't have to ponder the thought. "Stay with Annie and ask Thomas to make sure she gets home when he arrives. We will take a taxi."
Sam nodded, and Lucas ran out the back door.
A cold front had rolled into New York City, bringing with it the promise of inclement weather, but what was just a drizzle when they arrived that morning had turned somewhat torrential by the time they stepped outside. Pulling the collar of his costume up around his neck, he scanned the area to see where Tilly may have gone. He spotted her around fifty yards away.
"Tilly!" he yelled.
She turned her head and glanced at him, then ran.
Lucas shook his head and began to follow. "Wait, stop!"
"Go away, Lionel! I don't wish to speak with you."
Picking up pace, he rushed down the busy New York City street, trying to avoid the Fifth Avenue traffic that they'd crossed in front of, and as his long limbs began to make up the distance between them, he called her name again.
"Leave me! I want to be alone!" she cried.
Tilly ran a couple of blocks further and then turned abruptly down a side street. Bouchard quickly followed. As his shoes pounded against the pavement, he turned the corner and immediately encountered a trolley blocking his view. Once it was gone, he stopped in the middle of the street. She had seemingly disappeared. Undeterred, Lucas looked both ways as he crossed the next intersection turning down another side street in a less busy residential neighborhood, and he spotted her again. His heart raced.
"Tilly, stop! We need to talk," he yelled, stretching his hand out toward her as he again picked up pace.
She didn't respond at first, instead continuing to run as her tears mingled with the pelting rain, and then he heard her tortured crying. "There's nothing to say. Please just go away!"
"I'm not going!"
She moved from the middle of the street to the sidewalk with great haste, and as she did, the heel of her boot caught on the curb, sending her hurtling toward the ground.
Lucas gasped as he watched her hit the sidewalk hard, and he rushed toward her to see if she was injured. But when he closed the gap, and she took off her boots and hurled them at him, he discovered she was fine. Ducking just in time, Bouchard looked up, watching as Tilly pulled herself up and again began to run, now in bare feet.
"Ottilia! Stop!"
Finally, he reached her, grabbing her first by the arm and then by the waist as she struggled to get away. Spinning her around, he took the blows of her palms against his chest before finally grabbing onto her wrists and lowering them as she cried.
"Leave me alone," she sobbed. "Haven't I been made a fool of enough already? Have you come to humiliate me some more?"
"Tilly, that was never my intention."
"Intention or not, you've made it quite clear to me where you stand…."
"I am only trying to spare you…"
"Spare me?! Spare me what? Your rejection? Don't bother. You've just one of a long line of people who do not want me."
Lucas stepped back, bewildered. "What?!"
"Don't try to deny it. You've practically said as much!"
Lucas shook his head in disbelief. "Tilly, I never once said such a thing. Come, let's get out of the rain and talk about this," he said, taking her hand and pulling her toward him.
"Let go of me!" she yelled, yanking her arm away from him. She turned and began marching the other way.
"Where are you going?" he asked, following her.
"What do you care?"
"I care, Tilly. Truly."
She continued walking away, and as she did, Bouchard observed the thin cotton garment she was wearing, now ripped, soiled, and soaked with water. The shimmering cloth clung to her body, leaving little to the imagination. Bouchard swallowed. He took a deep breath, inwardly chiding himself for his own humanity.
"At least take my coat. Your costume is soaked."
Tilly turned. "My costume?! Who cares about my stupid costume? It's ruined anyway. It's ruined. It's all ruined."
Now she was facing him, and he could not help but watch, his eyes briefly scanning her body and taking in every curve. His heart sped up, and his eyes darkened at the sight. He closed his eyes, inwardly lecturing himself to keep his gaze up toward her face, and when he opened them, she had again turned to go. And again, he followed her.
The duchess turned her head and again began to run but it took no time for him to overcome her, to grab her and turn her again toward him.
"Tilly, please. You'll catch your death…"
"It would be better that way," she sobbed.
"No! It wouldn't!"
"Lionel. Go home. Go back to your apartment. Go where you'll be happy. I will only bring you grief."
"Tilly, this is foolish talk."
"Is it? You deserve so much better. I know I'm ugly. I know I'm skinny and plain and unintelligent and unremarkable."
Lucas's eyes widened in disbelief. "Is that what that buffoon of an ex-fiancé told you?"
She looked toward the ground. "It doesn't matter who told me. It's true. Please, leave me now. I'm tired. I just want to be alone."
"No! I'm not leaving you," Lucas said as he closed in and scooped her up into his arms, hugging her close to his chest and turning back toward the main thoroughfare. For once, she didn't fight it; instead, openly weeping, she snuggled closer to him.
"Now you just need to forget what that imbecile said to you and listen to the facts."
"Which are?"
"That you are amazing, and smart, and witty, and breathtaking."
"Now I know you're lying."
"I'm not," he said, smiling softly. "I would not lie about such a thing."
Tilly looked at him, tears running down her cheeks, "Then why would you reject me?"
"I didn't reject you. I'm trying to protect you," he said, reaching the street and raising his hand, even as he held her, trying to hail a cab.
"Protect me? By stepping away from me, by throwing away everything we have?"
"Tilly, it's for your safety."
"Ha!"
"Not, ha!" I'm trying to protect you because I sense we're growing too close, closer than we should."
"Protect me, or protect yourself?"
"My personal desires do not factor into this."
"No? Then what is this? You say you want to protect me; all you are doing is hurting me. Hurting us. Sabotaging our relationship."
"I'm not. The lines of propriety…."
"Save it! This is 1920, not 1820."
"What does the calendar have to do with what's right or wrong?" He said, again, raised a hand to a passing cab. "Dag blasted! Can they not see?"
"I wasn't suggesting we do anything improper."
"I know that, but I also feel that for us to move forward would be a step most arduous."
"Oh, poppycock! You're just saying all of these things because you're trying to let me down easy – speaking of….let me down and let me try."
"What?"
"Release me from your arms and allow me to try to get us a taxi."
Lucas shook his head as he looked down at her soaking body, still held in his arms, beads of rain glistening off her exposed skin and making much of the fabric transparent. "Um, no."
"No? You cannot hold me forever."
"I can for a while."
"This is ridiculous."
"This whole conversation is ridiculous."
"Well, it wouldn't be happening if you'd just be honest. Admit it. You think I'm unattractive, plain, and dull, and that is why you've rejected me. You're like every other man in my life and…."
"Oh, for mercy's sake, woman!"
"What?"
Immediately, Lucas crushed his mouth to hers, cupping her head in his hand and joining their lips in a fervent kiss. Tilly moaned when she experienced the velvety texture of his lips against hers and felt his beard, soft as she imagined it would be, brushing against her skin. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, sweeping her tongue across his lower lip and stoking the fire within them even greater. He smiled as he joined her in deepening the kiss, and when she ran her fingers through his hair, his body came alive. He cradled her in his arms and combed his fingers through her hair – enjoying the closeness that he so long had fought and knowing inside there was no turning back.
Finally, he pulled away, breathing heavily and looking into her hooded eyes drunk with passion. He reached up and gently brushed a stray strand away from her face.
"Does that feel like rejection to you?" he whispered, huskily.
Tilly answered with a smile, then lazily slid out of his arms until her feet hit the street. She leaned up to kiss him again.
"That was a point well made," she said.
Lucas chuckled, then narrowed his eyes as she stepped away.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to catch us a cab," she replied, turning around and starting to raise her hand.
Lucas rushed forward, quickly divesting himself of his coat and moving towards her. "Not without this."
"I'm okay," she said, again raising her arm.
"No. You're not," he said.
Something about his emphasis caused her to turn to him in curiosity, and when his darkened eyes scanned her body, and she saw a slight flaring of his nostrils, she finally looked down.
"Oh!" she said. "Oh! Oh! Oh, my goodness! Oh, no!" She quickly snatched Lucas's jacket from his hand and Bouchard tried not to laugh, his neck and ears turning beet red and giving away the extreme attractedness he felt toward her in that moment.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.
"I…I tried."
"You didn't try hard enough. Just let me run like a fool through the streets of New York half naked – what were you thinking?."
He began to laugh. "I was thinking I needed to catch you."
"And do what?" she said, glancing back at him as he lost his battle with laughter. "What?! It's not funny!"
"Yes, it is!"
"No, it isn't!" she said, raising her eyebrows and stifling a laugh herself. "And there you were preaching to me about propriety! You should feel ashamed."
"Consider us even."
Tilly blushed as memories of her much more revealing view in the bathroom ran through her mind.
"That was entirely an accident."
"I see."
"It was! Tell me, Mr. Berrymore, did you enjoy the view?"
"Quite."
"Oh!" she huffed, hitting him again in the chest with the palm of her hand, which he caught in his own.
She stopped and looked at him. Through eyes of love, he stared at her, leaning down and kissing her fourth finger. Her lips parted.
"You are ravishing…" he said, stealing her breath. Then he grinned "...especially when you're angry."
"Oh, you brute," she said, again raising her hand in the air but then placing it around his neck for another passionate kiss. "You wolf," she groaned as again the kiss deepened.
Lucas rested his hands on her back, feeling her form from top to bottom as she again melted into him.
The sound of a car pulling up beside them broke the moment. A taxi driver sounded his horn. "You folks need a ride?"
Lucas and Tilly did not break eye contact but simply gazed at one another and smiled. "Come on. Let's go home," he said. "I'm taking the most beautiful woman in the world to a ball in a few days and we wouldn't want her to catch cold."
Tilly smiled contentedly up at him and took him by the arm as they went to catch their ride.