Looking both ways to make sure the coast was clear, Tilly tiptoed through the hallway, trying not to make a sound. She tensed when a floorboard in the old mansion creaked but quickly continued toward her destination, smiling when she reached his door. The love of her life was just behind that barrier, and despite the fact they had said goodnight a few hours prior, she couldn't wait to see him.
Raising her hand to tap, the princess stopped and shook her head at her foolishness. A knock would awaken more than the sleeping man inside at this hour. A surprise it is, she thought, glancing around once again before easing open the door and silently stepping inside.
Once she was safely in the room, she saw the unkempt hair on the pillow first, suppressing a giggle before catching her breath. Oh, how she wanted to spend a lifetime running her fingers through that glorious mane. Lucas Bouchard was certainly a handsome man, even first thing in the morning- or the middle of the night- whatever 2 o'clock a.m. was. She took a moment to stare at him as his chest rose and fell in slumber. One unruly lock fell across his forehead while the rest was splayed on his pillow.
A shiver took her by surprise, causing her to rub her arms. Had she forgotten her robe with this late-night walk through the house? No matter- she would soon be warm and toasty, she considered as she shuffled to the edge of the bed.
Pulling the covers back, Tilly slowly lifted her leg and slid in next to the sleeping man, covering herself and scooting closer. His body heat was exactly what she needed on this chilly night, she thought, sighing as she placed her arm across his chest.
Sudden warmth is what Lucas felt as his consciousness began to return to him. While in that twilight time between sleep and awake, he was at a place of complete peace, a smile forming on his face before he was aware – along with another feeling he couldn't quite place. What was it? Belonging. Love. He felt at home.
His mind and body accepted the sensation as he pulled the warmth closer to him, instantly knowing who it was before his wakefulness was full.
"Tilly..." he whispered, kissing her forehead. The moment his lips connected, his mind reached awareness, and his eyes opened. "You're here," he said as he turned in her direction.
"Yes," she said with a quiet giggle.
"You shouldn't be. It's risky," he responded.
"So is riding in your sidecar on the beach, and yet I survived that," she teased as she snuggled closer.
Lucas reveled in the feeling of her body next to his but fought the urge to succumb. Reason must prevail. "That's a completely different type of risk," he argued softly, unable to keep from stroking her arm. The truth was, he was glad she was here in his bed and wished they never had to be apart again. "Why are you in here?"
"I would think that would be obvious. I'm here to get warm," she snickered as she moved even closer to prove her words, placing one leg over his and laying her head on his chest. This movement elicited a soft groan from Bouchard, who immediately shifted to the side, moving her off of him in order to remove his white pajama top. Tilly's eyes widened as she wasn't certain what he was doing, but then her heart warmed along with her body as he placed the garment over her shoulders, leaving himself in his union suit to cover his body.
"Thank you," Tilly said sweetly, slipping her arms into the shirt and then snuggling again next to her beau.
Lucas kissed her head and caressed her arm as she settled in. "It was my pleasure," he said softly in a low voice that brought a different kind of shiver to her frame. "But you didn't come here to get warm."
"No. You're right," she smiled. "Actually, I had a great idea and couldn't wait to tell you about it."
Lifting his head, Lucas took a moment to focus on the clock hands. "At this hour? It must be some idea. Couldn't it have waited? If we get caught…." Even though he spoke the words, his mind and his body were resisting his efforts toward propriety.
"Lucas…" she said, with mild exasperation. "We won't get caught. We're just talking."
He exhaled. "Alright, then. What was this great idea?" he asked, wanting to think of anything besides this beautiful half-dressed woman snuggled up next to him.
Pushing back slightly, Tilly propped her head on her hand. "I think we should go on a double date with Jenny and Nathan."
Lucas didn't know what he was expecting her to say, but it wasn't that. He had to laugh. "A double date? That's what woke you up at 2 a.m.?"
"Yes!" she yawned. "I think it would be fun."
"Perhaps. I think they would enjoy that and we would too. However, that could have waited until the morning, sweetheart – when we were both awake…and clothed."
"We have clothing on."
Lucas looked at his own attire and shook his head. "Technically, yes, but…I guess what I'm trying to say is…well, we need to do things right."
"Mmmhmm. I agree..." she replied, nestling even closer so that her head rested over his heart. She kissed his chest.
Bouchard swallowed, his own heartbeat picking up. "Tilly, you laying here beside me..." he fumbled. "I mean, it's not like I have no self-control..."
"Mmm..." she responded sleepily.
"It's just that… Well…I'm not sure I want to control myself with you next to me, which makes this situation somewhat risky for us. What we have found in each other is so beautiful, and I don't want to endanger it in any way or compromise your good name, so I really think that is….I wonder if perhaps you should return to your room? It's not that I don't want you here. I really do. But…."
A change in her breathing made him suspect she had fallen asleep. Looking down at her beautiful face confirmed those suspicions, bringing a sleepy smile to his own face. He shook his head. "Come here, you," he muttered, once again pulling her close, then kissing her forehead as she nestled closer. Resting his cheek against her head, he inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her shampoo, and blissfully fell back into slumber.
Several hours later, the sleeping couple heard voices whispering outside the door and both were immediately awake. Eyes wide, Tilly looked fearfully at Lucas and jumped out of the bed when they heard the knock, hoping to take cover.
"There's no time!" he whispered urgently. "Quick! In here. Lifting the blankets for her, Lucas motioned with his head for her to hide. Tilly dove under the linens just as the door opened, and Lucas settled them back over her.
The downy bedding was enough to conceal her small frame as she lay as still as possible, her feet up near his chest and her head at the foot of the bed.
"Lucas, are you awake?" Jenny asked as she entered the room, Nathan trailing behind her.
"Um... yes," he answered, trying to sound groggy. He cleared his throat. "I was just about to get up. Did you need something?"
"Nothing, particularly," Jenny replied. "It's just that you never sleep this late, and we were concerned."
"You were concerned," Nathan corrected, noticing Lucas's nervousness as he fiddled with his fingers.
"I see. Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly…um… fine." He barely got the sentence out when he burst out laughing.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Jenny asked, taking a step toward him.
"Of course." He replied, shifting his position quickly and trying to look innocent. However, underneath the sheets, Tilly's face and hands were just inches from his feet, and she couldn't resist the temptation to see if he was ticklish. Lucas responded by slapping the bedding. "What would make you think I'm not?" he responded, leaning forward.
The Grants glanced at each other. Jenny's eyes were worried, while Nathan was suspicious.
"It's just you're acting awfully strangely this morning." Lucas's sister moved closer to examine him and then leaned toward his face and sniffed.
Bouchard immediately moved his head away from her. "Really, Jenny? Isn't it a bit early to accuse me of drinking?" Once again, his body jerked, and he chuckled out loud "STOP!" jerking again and then looking at Jenny with reddened cheeks. "S…Stop being so..Suspiii..scious!" he moved slightly then groaned. "Would you believe hiccups?"
"I don't think he's been drinking, Jenny," Nathan said, gently pulling Jenny away from her brother's side and taking her place. "In fact, I think there is something else a-foot." As he spoke, Grant pulled back the covers before Lucas could object, finding a pair of bare feet next to Bouchard's chest.
Jenny gasped and placed her hand over her mouth as Tilly shamefacedly climbed out from under the covers.
"Lucas! Tilly!"
"I can explain…" Lucas said.
Tilly repositioned herself and then returned to her boyfriend's side, who replaced the blanket over them.
"Doesn't look like an explanation is necessary," Nathan said, fighting back a smile. "It's pretty obvious what is going on."
Jenny elbowed him in the ribs. "This isn't funny, Nathan Grant!"
"Hey, I'm just glad to know that he was being tickled under the covers."
"What?" Jenny narrowed her eyes in confusion.
"If he had been alone with all those jerks and groans, we'd all be a little more humiliated at his behavior this morning."
"Oh, good grief!" Lucas responded, running his hand over his face and shaking his head.
Jenny grimaced in consternation and turned back to the embarrassed couple. "Why is it that we keep finding you in these compromising situations….over and over and over….?"
"Keep?" Tilly asked Lucas with a curious glare.
"She's exaggerating," Lucas chuckled nervously.
"Exaggerating?"
Lucas sat up a little further. "Well, it's like this. The first time was in Hope Valley. We were getting into the bath…"
"We?!" Tilly asked, wide-eyed.
"Nathan and I."
Tilly's mouth gaped. "This story is not getting better."
"It's not like that. I…I…I was injured at the time and needed some assistance – and some men we know walked up outside and thought….well…I won't repeat what they thought because it was just a misunderstanding - just like when Nathan and I were in a stairwell at a New Orleans hotel together."
Tilly raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you and Nathan need a chaperone."
"No!" Lucas said as Jenny bit her lip. "We were stuck…or rather, I was."
"You got stuck? With Nathan?!"
"In the stairwell! We were wedged in there…or, rather, I was."
"Wedged in….where?"
"Nathan, could you help me out here?"
Nathan responded by crossing his arms in front of his chest and chuckling. "No, that's okay. You're doing fine."
"Yes, Lucas. Please proceed." Jenny said. "I'm sure Tilly finds this riveting. Tell her what happened next."
Lucas threw both Grants a look and then turned his attention back to Tilly. "Well, Nathan can confirm, I was pinned against the wall…."
"By Nathan?" Tilly asked.
"NO! The cot."
"Okay…."
"I was trying to move the cot to Elizabeth's room."
Tilly raised her eyebrows.
"So that I could protect her and Jenny. Nothing else. But they only had their own beds in the room, so I tried moving my cot to their room. The cot opened up as I was trying to push it around the corner, and I got stuck between it and the wall."
"Oh, my!"
"Yeah, he was stuck pretty good," Nathan said. "Thing nearly turned him into a eunuch!"
"Thank you, Nathan," Lucas responded, rolling his eyes. "As I was saying, Nathan came to assist me and got under the cot to try to push it back up, and when the Judge showed up…."
"There was a judge?"
"A friend of ours. Well…Nathan's face was….well..right there, and he was bracing himself by holding onto my thighs and…." his face turned bright red. "I'm sure you can imagine how it looked….on second thought, don't imagine….um…aren't we a bit off topic here?"
The others chuckled before Jenny stepped in. "Actually, we are," she said. "But, I'm glad to see your memory is intact, at least regarding those incidents." Her eyes momentarily softened as she gazed at her brother. "But to this present moment - didn't you two learn anything from your last... indiscretion?"
"This isn't what it looks like," Tilly finally said. "I came in here to tell him something in the night, and we both fell asleep. That's all that happened."
"Even if I believed you, I doubt anyone else in the house would. So, how do we get you out of here?" Jenny's words were interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door.
"Lucas, are you awake?" The voice was unmistakably Helen Bouchard's.
"Hide!" All three in the room loudly whispered to Tilly as she quickly flipped over onto Lucas's chest and scooted down. He smoothed her hair down and then pulled the covers to his neck as Jenny flopped onto the bed and tried to look inconspicuous.
"Come in, Mother," Lucas called out. Seconds later, Helen entered the room, surprised to find her son wasn't alone.
"Oh. It looks like everyone is here," she stated, looking around as Nathan innocently sat on the edge of the bed and worked at his cuticle.
"Did you need something? " Lucas asked, ignoring her raised eyebrow.
"You are certainly sleeping late today, son."
"As I told him," Jenny said, standing to her feet and smoothing her skirt. She walked toward her mother and took her by the arm. "Nathan and I only arrived a moment ago and since Lucas was in here all alone, we decided to stay and have a chat."
Jenny hated the words as they left her mouth all at once. Well, it was said now. Hopefully, Helen didn't notice the tremor in her voice.
"I see. Well, since your brother missed breakfast, I wanted to let him know that the cook is making lunch and…."
A slight groan from the bed caused Jenny to look at her brother and notice his eyes closed. Apparently, Tilly had moved from tickling him to something else entirely. Her lips parted.
"Are you alright, son?" Helen asked.
"He's fine. Thanks for letting us know," Nathan said, quickly standing.
"But he made a sound…."
"His stomach. I think perhaps it was his stomach," Jenny said, turning her mother toward the door. "We should all leave so he can get out of bed and get dressed."
"I'm not sure Lucas is ready to get out of that comfortable bed just yet," Nathan chuckled. "He seems to be enjoying himself."
Another quiet moan caused Helen to turn around and look back toward the bed. She looked at Jenny with confusion as her daughter pushed her toward the door.
"He's fine. We will see you in a few minutes," she said, shutting the door in Helen's face.
Exhausted, Jenny turned toward her brother and exhaled.
"That was so worth it," Nathan laughed. "The look on Helen's face."
"It's not funny," Jenny said. "We need to get her out of here. You two…REALLY!"
Tilly sheepishly raised her head from under the blankets, biting her lips as she looked at her immobilized boyfriend, who had grown inexplicably silent.
"I was only rubbing his chest," Tilly grinned. "And, perhaps, kissing his tummy."
"Out!" Jenny pointed toward the door - to which Tilly jumped to. "Remember your slippers. I'll check the hall," Jenny said as she peeked out the door. "We need to get you back where you belong. In YOUR room, not Lucas's."
"Yes, ma'am," Tilly replied.
"And, Lucas! Get dressed!"
Looking back once more at the man she loved, Tilly hurried out of the room, happy to know that she could affect Lucas the way she did. But the Grants stayed behind, with Nathan leaning against the wall and smirking.
Bouchard said up in bed, drawing his knees to his chest.
"Well, well, well…." Grant said.
Bouchard clenched his jaw. "Well, nothing, Nathan! You've said your piece, so please move along. I need to go take a bath."
"Make it a cold one," Nathan chuckled. "Those can be helpful in these kinds of situations."
A hard punch to the arm was the response Grant received from his wife. "Ouch! What was that for?"
"And just how do you know that a cold bath will help in these kinds of situations?" she said as she pulled him out the door.
"It's just a figure of speech…."
The door shut, and Bouchard immediately rolled sideways and pulled a pillow over his head. What a way to start the day.
After his bath, Lucas arrived on the lower floor just as the clock struck. He made his way toward the kitchen, expecting that the rest of the household would be busy with other activities, but was surprised when he passed by the dining room and saw his entire family, the Falkenbergs, and Melrose still seated at the table, many with empty plates in front of them.
"Lucas! You're finally here!" Sophia said gleefully as all three children jumped up to give him a hug.
Bouchard smiled nervously as he ran a hand across his niece and nephew's head and then cupped Annie's chin briefly in his hand. "I'm afraid it was a bit difficult to get up this morning," he said, moving to the empty spot next to Tilly and taking a seat.
"Not from what I saw," Nathan quipped, faster than his better senses could stop him. A quick stomp on his foot from Jenny ended his revelry.
"It seems Ottilia was difficult to arouse this morning as well," Michael said. "Late night?"
"It was just one of those nights," Tilly responded, fumbling for an answer to allay suspicion. "After I said goodnight to Lucas, and he went to his room, I just couldn't quieten my mind."
"I understand that feeling well," Martin said.
Helen chuckled. "This is news to me."
"What do you mean?" Martin asked.
Helen turned to the group and chuckled. "On most evenings, you are snoring like a locomotive within minutes of your head hitting the pillow."
Martin twisted his mouth to the side. "Thank you for sharing that information with everyone, wife."
"I only speak the truth, husband," Helen replied.
"Some truths are better left unspoken," Lucas's father responded. Helen rolled her eyes.
An awkward silence followed until Jenny put on a fake smile, clasping her hands in front of her. "So, does anyone have any plans today?"
"Lucas and I do!" Tilly announced, to Michael's chagrin.
Lucas looked at her curiously. "We do?"
"Yes! We're going to take a motorcycle ride into town to go shopping."
Lucas paused, then slowly shook his head. It wasn't how he assumed the day would go, but if it made her happy, he would do it. "It sounds like fun."
"Really, Lucas," Helen said with a smirk.
Bouchard narrowed his eyes. "Is there an issue?"
She chuckled. "Well, unless we are shopping for new suits, you generally have little patience for shopping."
"As do most men," Ari responded - Sophia, rolling her eyes.
"I enjoy spending time with Tilly," Bouchard answered. "A ride into town sounds delightful."
Tilly smiled, taking his hand under the table. "Then it's settled. After we finish lunch, we shall go to Bloomies. And we might even pick up a suit…of sorts."
Lucas cocked his head curiously but said nothing more as one of the servants arrived with his tea.
Several hours later, Lucas stood in his robe, waiting patiently for his girlfriend to appear. Had he realized that she wanted to go purchase swimming attire for use in the Falkenberg's indoor pool, he might have balked at the idea of shopping altogether, but something primal within him over the idea of seeing Tilly in a bathing suit overwhelmed his judgment and caused him to temporarily ignore all cautionary warnings and proceed. His prudence returned to him when they'd returned home to change into the swimwear. He considered the danger they were flirting with. This was going to be hard. The truth of the matter was, having crossed that bridge and experiencing what he was missing, he now wanted more – to the degree that he could barely think of anything else aside from Tilly, how much he loved her, and how much he needed her – emotionally and now physically. He needed a ring on that finger!
"I'm ready."
Tilly's words broke into his thoughts, and then the vision of her eliminated them altogether, as his mind went blank and his pulse raced. Standing in front of him in a burgundy swimsuit with a deep neckline was his Princess, walking out in the garment which stopped just above her thighs, revealing her long, shapely legs and causing Bouchard's body to come alive.
"What do you think?" Tilly asked innocently, concerned by his silence.
Lucas's eyes swept over her from head to toe before returning to her face. "You're setting me on fire."
Tilly smiled, biting her lip and raising a hand toward her mouth. She took his hand with her other one. "Then we'd better get into the pool to cool down."
Lucas smiled softly, his eyes never leaving her as she led him to water's edge.
"Lucas?" she said, smirking as they stood at the pool's border.
"Yes?" he said, a dopey grin on his face.
"Robe?"
He stared a moment, then blinked and chuckled. "Oh. Right."
Untying his sash, he dropped the robe, revealing his own one-piece grey swimsuit along with his solid, lean frame with its broad shoulders and pleasantly hairy chest. It, too, left little to the imagination. Knowing his inhibition, Rasmussen gave him an ornery smile.
"Very nice, Mr. Bouchard," she said, walking around him and taking him in. "Very nice indeed," she said, coming close to him so that her breath ghosted his neck.
Lucas's breath hitched. "I'm pleased you approve," he said quickly. "Shall we?"
Tilly kissed his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. "Maybe we shouldn't, at least…not yet."
He turned to her as her eyes motioned toward the dressing room, and her eyebrows raised up and down. His eyes widened as his blood began to race, as he knew what she was inferring.
"No. I think we definitely should," he responded. "Meet you inside." With that, he turned around and jumped into the pool, going under the water and finally appearing about fifteen feet later, popping up from the water and pushing his now wet, glorious hair out of his face.
"Come in! It feels great," he called out, extending a hand, at which Tilly jumped in and then swam to meet him, immediately wrapping her arms around him as they met in the middle.
Unbeknownst to the lovebirds, standing in a doorway leading to the pool, Michael Melrose was seething. It was hard enough watching the two of them being so wrapped up in each other, but to watch Tilly, who was practically naked in his eyes, eyeing this scoundrel was unconscionable. What was this spell the man had over her that would cause her to throw aside her very reputation in exchange for licentiousness? He needed to intervene.
Stepping through the doorway, Melrose began moving toward the pool to demand that they separate from one another, but before he got too far, a door opened, and he heard footsteps. He quickly backed away.
Jenny crossed her arms when she saw her brother and his girlfriend being, in her opinion, a little too friendly. Lucas immediately cast a guilty glance her way. Setting the basket she brought with her on the ground, she loudly cleared her voice.
"Um…hello," he said with a stilted smile.
"Hi. Got room for two more?" Nathan asked in a friendly manner.
Tilly smiled. "Of course!"
Being from rural Canada, there was an immediate contrast between the old-fashioned swimwear that the Grants wore compared to the more modern clothing of Lucas and Tilly, but neither couple paid any attention to those sorts of distinctions. Instead, what had begun as a stiff tension between Bouchard and his 'chaperones' quickly turned into good, clean fun as the couples played games with the ball Jenny had brought for the pool, and Nathan and Lucas engaged in a little friendly competition chasing a stick that their ladies took turns tossing into the pool as far as they could go. It wasn't long before all were exhausted.
"I'm getting too old for this," Nathan gasped as he made his way to the side of the pool, having lost to Lucas for the fourth time and making it a tie.
"Yes, you are," Lucas said teasingly, gratefully accepting the glass of water that Tilly passed his way as she readied a towel for him when he got out of the pool.
"This was fun," Tilly said. "I'm sorry I didn't think about it earlier."
"Yeah," Grant replied. "We never had these sorts of amenities available when we lived in Hope Valley."
"Nathan and I brought bathing suits for the hotel. This was a wonderful time."
"You'll have to come visit more often," Lucas said.
"Yes. We need to do that," Jenny said, handing Nathan a towel as he jumped out of the pool and sat, his legs still dangling in the water.
Lucas quickly followed, taking a towel from Tilly, who took a seat next to him.
"So, you're leaving tomorrow?" Tilly asked. "With the Bouchards?"
"Actually, no," Nathan said.
Lucas raised his brow in surprise.
"Nathan's boss, Mr. Pinkerton, operates in New York City. It so happens that they want him to stick around for a bit to help with a case."
"Really?" Lucas said. "A case with the Pinkertons?"
"Yeah," Nathan said, taking a sip of water. "Counterfeit ring that has been crossing borders. Big banking company has hired us to find the culprit and bring them to justice."
Lucas nodded. "Well, if anyone can do it, I suspect you'd be able to. How much longer will you be here?"
"A month."
"Really?!"
"Yes, the Falkenbergs have been gracious enough that we will be staying here as well."
Lucas nodded. "They're very gracious. I'm surprised they haven't kicked me out yet."
Tilly shoved him. "They wouldn't dare!"
Lucas laughed. "I was only supposed to be staying here until I recovered from my latest incident. Clearly, I have."
"Clearly," Nathan said with a smirk.
Jenny threw Nathan a scolding look. "Enough of that, Nathan Grant. We said we weren't going to talk about that sort of thing because of Mother."
"Mother?" Lucas asked.
"Yes! You have no idea what sort of difficulty we've gone through trying to keep her in the dark about…well…about what has been going on with you and Tilly."
Tilly frowned. "We're not ashamed."
"No," Jenny said. "But you do not know my mother when she stands on her soap box. Do you know that your niece was playing in Tilly's room and found your slippers?"
"What?" he replied.
"Yes! Marched them right into the library while I was speaking with Mother, and…well, I had fun explaining that one."
"Oh, my," Lucas responded. "I did wonder where I had placed them. Guess I was in such a hurry to hide from Sophia."
"Well, I, for one, think we should stop hiding," Tilly said. "We are adults."
Lucas chuckled. "Tilly, things aren't like they are in Europe. The world would definitely frown if they knew what had happened. I know my mother would."
Tilly pouted. "But I'm proud to be with you. I'm happy. Aren't you?" she asked, pulling away to look him in the face.
"Of course," Lucas's eyes softened. "Happier than I've ever been," he said, taking her hand and kissing it, "which is why we need to slow down and do this right. I don't want controversy surrounding our being together. We've just found each other, and there is nothing sordid or ugly about our relationship. But I do not want to give others the opportunity to think there is, nor do I want anyone speaking ill of my girl."
Tilly sighed. "I suppose. And I don't want to end up on your mother's bad side."
Lucas looked at her and smiled. "Not a chance," he said, stealing a kiss on her cheek. Tilly smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. "Particularly since she's leaving on the morrow and what she doesn't know won't hurt her."
"Lucas!" Jenny said, punching him in the arm.
Bouchard laughed. "I knew that would get a rise out of you!"
Nathan laughed. "Well, the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree."
"Oh!" Jenny huffed in mock exasperation.
"You know what?" Tilly said. "We need to do that double-date."
"Double date?" Jenny asked.
"Yes," Lucas replied. "Tilly had the brilliant idea that the four of us could go hit the town one night. Perhaps dinner and a show?"
"That sounds wonderful," Jenny said. "Maybe after Mother and Father go home? On Wednesday?"
Lucas thought for a moment. "As long as we're home by ten. I'm expecting a phone call."
"That should be no problem," Tilly stated. "Annie's nanny would be happy to watch Luke and Jo. I assume they are staying too?"
"Actually, they are going with my parents," Jenny responded. "School is still in session until December 17th, and seeing Luke is so new, we didn't want him to miss. We should be home by Christmas, though. I hope you will be joining us?"
"I believe I'd like that," Lucas said. "I did like Christmas, didn't I?"
Jenny smiled. "Oh, it was your favorite. In fact, I remember…"
Nathan cleared his throat and shook his head as Jenny cast a wary gaze toward him. "Oh, right," she said, suddenly becoming silent.
Lucas looked between the two of them. "Is something wrong?"
Jenny shook her head. "No. Not at all. It's just the doctor said we're not supposed to…"
Lucas sighed. "Oh, for goodness sake. I don't think telling me about whether or not I liked Christmas qualifies as something that will send me off the edge," he said. "Unless it's something traumatic."
"No. It was a happy memory," she said.
"Then tell me," Lucas insisted.
"You're sure?"
"Yes. I want to know," he responded.
Jenny then proceeded to tell Lucas about one of the first Christmas gifts she remembered him receiving after his fifth birthday. It was a toy bow and arrow.
"You really did think you were Robin Hood," she laughed. "And while the arrows were made of fabric, the sticks they were attached to could leave a whelp. You shot me with that stinkin' thing so many times that I was full of bruises."
Lucas laughed. "Sorry," he responded. Then he remembered. "But as I recall, I only did so after you stole my other present that year – a wooden tricycle."
"You remember!" Jenny said.
"I do," he smiled. "That was our second to last Christmas together. And now we're back together. What a miracle."
Jenny nodded. "A miracle indeed. So, you're coming to Montreal?"
"Absolutely."
"And you, Tilly?" Jenny asked.
"I would love nothing more than to spend Christmas with your family," she responded. "Annie and Jo are like two peas in a pod. It will be grand seeing their eyes light up."
"Yes, they are a blessing," Jenny responded.
"That they are," Nathan mused.
The next day, Grand Central Station was bustling as the Bouchards arrived with their tickets in hand. Lucas, Jenny, and their significant others were there to say farewell, and the Grants were getting in some Luke and Jo hugs before the children boarded.
While Tilly and Helen conversed, Martin pulled Lucas aside. "I wanted to speak with you a moment, son."
"Of course," Lucas replied, looking around. "Maybe over here," he said, taking a few steps to a less crowded area.
Keeping his voice low, the elder Bouchard chose his words carefully. "First, I wanted to say how glad I am that you are recovering agreeably. I'm very happy that you are healing. However, I wanted to remind you that you should act quickly regarding Miss Rasmussen. As I said before, these things do have a way of getting out of hand."
Lucas smiled. "I can assure you, Father, that I am on top of this situation. I've already reached out to the king."
Martin raised his eyebrows. "You did? And he said yes?"
Lucas shrugged. "Well, unfortunately, his schedule is demanding, and he won't be available to speak to me until the day before Thanksgiving. But I have the promise that he will call, and should that conversation go as planned, I will propose on Thanksgiving Day."
Martin smiled and then hugged his son. "That's only a few days away and I have no doubt of her response when you ask. You two obviously love each other."
"Very much," Lucas responded.
"All aboard!"
Martin and Lucas both took out their pocket watches at the same time and checked the time, then both looked up at each other and chuckled. "Please let me know how that works out, son," Martin said just before Helen and Tilly joined them.
Tilly, Nathan and the children stepped back after saying their goodbyes to give the Bouchards some privacy with Lucas and Jenny before leaving. They would watch the children until their grandparents were ready to board.
"Lucas, please take care of yourself," Helen began, taking his hands in hers and turning her cheek to him for a kiss. "And I want you to know I am very happy for you."
"So, you approve?" he asked.
"Of course, dear. Miss Rasmussen is a darling girl - but you really should make an honest woman out of her very soon, and until you do, take care to use appropriate prophylactics. I need more grandchildren, but hopefully, not until you are married."
Lucas's mouth dropped open, and Jenny gasped.
"Mother!" Jenny cried.
"What? I'm just offering him some motherly advice."
"But…you knew?" her daughter responded.
"Well, they didn't exactly hide it at breakfast the other morning. Anyone with sense could tell the two had been... intimate." Leaning closer, she added, "I hope she made it back to her room without being seen yesterday morning."
"Um…" Lucas said, casting his eyes toward Tilly with a stunned expression.
"You should be more cautious," Helen said, placing her hand against his cheek.
"I will...do my best, Mother," Lucas spit out, his cheeks a bright shade of pink at her pragmatic speech.
Martin remained silent as he motioned for the grandchildren to come along, then he ushed them toward the train, handing their tickets to the porter and instructing him to take them to their cabin while he gathered his wife.
"Helen, it's time," Martin said, taking his wife by the arm, then hugging his daughter and waving to his son as he moved her toward the train. As they boarded, it was clear to all watching that the elder Bouchard was perturbed about something. Just what that something was revealed itself in their private conversation as they waited for the porter to return.
"What is wrong with you?" Helen whispered a little too loudly, causing their children to stand still. Nathan looked at Jenny and Tilly at Lucas, and both raised their hands, eavesdropping on what their parents were saying.
"Nothing," Martin replied. "I'm fine."
"They're fighting in public," Jenny whispered. "That almost never happens."
"No, you're not fine. You are upset. Remember what you promised Dr. Bennett in Hope Valley. You told him you would not let things get bottled up but would learn to communicate better."
"Yes, yes."
"Then what is wrong with you?"
What followed next caused their wide-eyed children to nearly fall over in stunned silence.
"What is wrong? I'll tell you. I just had a talk with our son about the error of his ways and then you basically tell him his actions are fine."
"Well, he isn't a child. Don't you want him to be happy?"
"I absolutely do. Happiness and holiness go hand in hand."
"Oh, fiddle-dee-dee! I'm just pleased that he's come out of his shell."
"Out of his shell?"
"Let his hair down. He's always been so repressed concerning his approach to women."
"As we raised him to be. A young man with his looks, talents, and passion is quite a dangerous combination. Not to mention, he has French blood running through his veins."
"So?"
"So? The wrong move could absolutely spell moral ruin."
"There was nothing unholy about the two of them coming together."
"Explain that to Reverend Samuels when we attend church on Sunday."
"I will do no such thing. It's not of Reverend Samuels business."
Martin frowned, causing Helen to roll her eyes. "You know, you really have become such a prude in your old age," she said.
"You've been reading D.H. Lawrence again, haven't you?"
"What if I have? That's beside the point. This is the 20th century, Martin."
"Morality doesn't have a time stamp, Helen."
"But our lives do, Martin. There is only so much time that we are given on earth, and he should enjoy it while he's young."
"Said the serpent to the woman."
"Oh, so now I'm the devil?"
"No, but your words do not reflect the thoughts of a Christian woman. Perhaps you should go to confession."
"But we're not Catholic."
"I don't care. You should go anyway."
Helen smirked. "Perhaps I should remind you of that time before we were married when we were at the dance when we stole away..."
"Um..." Martin cleared his throat.
"Speaking of passion…"
"Perhaps we can discuss it at another time. The train is about to leave."
"Oh, we shall discuss it alright – after the children go to bed. Then we'll see who goes to confession!"
Lucas and Jenny looked at one another, each on the verge of laughing but too shocked to articulate what they were thinking. For their sake, they didn't have to as the Porter returned, taking their parent's tickets.
The older couple climbed the stairs and then turned around and waved before disappearing into the railcar on their way to join the children. Lucas missed them already but looked forward to their reunion in Montreal the following month, hopefully with his bride-to-be on his arm.
Wednesday afternoon arrived, and the two couples began to get ready for their date-night excursion. Opting for the Movie theater rather than Broadway allowed them to dress a little more casually, creating a more relaxed atmosphere.
When it came time to leave, Thomas approached Lucas with a serious expression on his face.
"Sir, the telephone call…"
"Yes?" Lucas said.
"I received a call from the man's secretary, and he stated that it would have to be delayed until tomorrow morning. He sent his apologies."
Lucas nodded, considering the news. A call in the morning would still be plenty of time, given he planned to propose at the library under the stars that evening. He wouldn't let it bother him.
The same couldn't be said for Michael Montrose.
Cockily strolling up with a drink in his hand, the blond-haired menace scrutinized Tilly and her friends as the men helped the women with their coats.
"Going out somewhere?" he asked.
Tilly frowned. "We are going out, but to where is none of your business."
He smirked. "Well, hurry home. Your father is supposed to call here tomorrow morning and you wouldn't want to oversleep and miss the call."
At the news that Melrose was also expecting a call from the king, Lucas became concerned. His call was a private matter, not something that should piggyback off of another's time. Somehow, he needed to ensure that the calls remained separate. But how?
Slipping on his jacket, the young man pondered that thought as he escorted Tilly toward the door. At the same time, a courier arrived with a large envelope. Whispering something to Thomas, the man entered the home and then handed it to Melrose. The leaving party didn't give it a second thought.
The double date proved exhausting. But what an evening it was. Tilly told stories of what it was like growing up in a palace in Dashma- stories of royal grandeur punctuated with tedium, not altogether different from memories from Lucas's own life as the son of a diplomat - memories jogged as she spoke. And then there were her memories of Gregori. Oh what trouble those two would get into. These tales also spawned memories of Lucas's life with Jenny, each one of which served to draw the two closer together. And then there were the stories told by Nathan about his life as a Mountie and as the uncle-father of Allie. They laughed, and there were tears, but most of all, there was love. It was an evening that would prove pivotal – growing their relationships with one another in ways that, at the time, they never realized would prove necessary but were soon to find out.
Arriving home a little before ten, they gathered together in the kitchen and raided the refrigerator for some of the cook's famous layer cake. But soon, it was time for bed, and so they parted – the Grants to their room and Lucas and Tilly to their separate spaces. Lucas stood outside her door, refusing to go inside, and ended the evening with a tender kiss.
"Goodnight, my princess," he said softly.
She smiled. "Goodnight, my love."
Entering his bedroom, Lucas reached for his tie and started to loosen it but stopped when he noticed a piece of paper by the lamp on the end table written in a pen that he did not recognize.
Meet me in my office when you return.
Michael M.
"I wonder what Melrose wants," he muttered to himself. Rolling his eyes, he went to find out.
"Ah, Bouchard. I see you received my note. Come in," Michael said, not looking up from the newspaper he was reading.
Lucas slowly entered the office, which was somewhat dimly lit and smelled of bourbon and expensive cigars, but mostly bourbon. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes. Bear with me a moment while I finish catching up on the news from Europe," he replied, raising one finger up in the air.
Annoyed at the waste of time, Bouchard walked over to the bookshelves and examined the volumes, mostly titles concerning business and finance, that Ari Falkenberg had amassed throughout the years and nothing like the more lavish library at the center of the house. His eyes then traveled to the mementos that his host had placed around the room. Glazed pottery from the emperor of Japan, a headdress made of shells from somewhere in the South Pacific, a tea set from the Prince of Wales, and his pride and joy, a sword once carried by Napoleon Bonaparte, a gift from the French Government. Falkenberg had lived a productive life and had become an influential man, and yet, among all of his things, there was nothing highly personal. It was all symbols of his status, which surprised the young man concerning his warm and generous host. Perhaps Ari had two different personas – one like the man he'd grown to admire, who cared so much about Tilly, and the other who would make deals with devils – including the one currently occupying a leather chair across the room. Immediately, Bouchard chided himself for being unfair, but his gut said otherwise. Michael Melrose was a fiend; that much was certain. He just wondered what was so urgent that the man had to see him at ten o'clock at night.
"Please, make yourself comfortable," Melrose said, breaking Lucas out of his thoughts. The older man stood and walked over to a small bar in the corner, then proceeded to put a few ice cubes into a glass before reaching for the bourbon. "Drink?"
"No, thank you," Lucas replied, wanting nothing more than to get this over with so that he could return to his room and get some rest.
"Suit yourself. You know, there's news tonight out of Europe that the rebels in Latvia are beginning to spread their infection into German territory. Of course, the rebel army is so small that even with his small protective force, Ebert will likely be able to stamp them down, but it just goes to show how unstable everything is in that region after the war. If only the Kaiser hadn't shaken things up the way he did…but he did, and here we are."
Melrose's voice appeared to trail off as if he was reliving some distant memory from the war, perhaps. Bouchard waited for several seconds for the man to say something else, but Michael was caught up in certain memories of his own, so Lucas finally spoke up. "Is that what you wanted to talk about? A rebellion in Germany?"
Melrose paused, his active thought returning. "No. Not really. At least, not entirely. I've asked you here because we need to discuss Ottilia and your relationship with her."
Lucas raised an eyebrow.
"I am not sure how aware you are of the history I have had with Ottilia."
"I know you were engaged and that you were unfaithful to her during that engagement."
Melrose smirked. "So it has been said, but don't believe everything you hear.
It has become blatantly obvious to all of us that the two of you have grown exceptionally close – inappropriately so, in fact. Seeing this is so, I feel the need to apprise you of certain aspects of Tilly's life that you are likely unaware of. She may pretend they do not exist, but they very much do and are part of what defines her, whether she likes it or not."
Lucas stiffened at the tone in Melrose's voice when he spoke Tilly's name but threw on his best poker face as he decided to let him say what he felt the need to say. "I'm listening."
Michael took a drink from his glass and then set it down on the bar.
"I'll get right to the point. Are you aware of how Tilly's family came to the throne?"
"It isn't something we've discussed," Lucas reflected.
"I assumed not. That part of her life is something she doesn't tend to pay much attention to, but I assure you, she must.
Her great-grandfather, Rasmus, was actually a close cousin to the Empress of Russia, Catherine the Great. He stood against the Empress when she overthrew her husband. Catherine exiled Rasmus - who, unlike herself, had an impeccable reputation- from Russia, and he settled in the small region of Dashma along the Baltic Sea. It wasn't even considered a country at the time, more of a territory that was fought over by princes and kings for many centuries. But under his leadership and due to his moral strength and character, warring parties set aside their differences and united, and formed a kingdom. They anointed him as their first ruler in the late 18th century, and the monarchy has survived all of these years – following his legacy and pattern of leadership. They are renowned everywhere in Europe as fair, honorable, moral people. Great courage. It's quite the legacy, and that legacy is the mantle that Ottilia bears as the daughter of the king. It is a heritage that she can be proud of but must also uphold. It has brought stability and prosperity to that area for a considerably long time, which is why it's such an egregious offense to see it endangered."
"Endangered, how?"
"By her association with you, of course."
Bouchard raised his eyebrows. "I beg your pardon."
"It is my understanding that you intend to ask the king for Ottilia's hand," Michael continued.
Lucas furrowed his brow in surprise. "How did you…."
"I have my ways. But I must inform you, this will never happen. The king will never give you his blessing, and Ottilia will never marry you without the explicit consent of her father. So, you can forget about it…." He then chuckled. "Poor choice of words."
Lucas tightened his jaw as Melrose again lifted his drink to his lips and threw back the contents. Setting the glass back down, he began pacing the floor.
"Tilly was raised to be a Princess, not some commoner who communes with gamblers and actors. She was sent to America for her own protection and that of the Crown Princess Anastasia and for that reason only. She does not belong to you, and she never will."
"I believe who Tilly loves is her business and not yours, Michael."
"There's where you're wrong, Bouchard. Tilly was promised to me…"
"She is not a commodity to be passed around."
"We're all commodities – valued for what we bring to this world. And in terms of Dashma, I bring a lot – while you bring nothing."
"Tilly is her own person and has a right to make her own decisions. An arranged marriage was attempted when you were children, and that arrangement was broken when you parted ways and married another."
"My marriage to Dona Sancha was also arranged – to protect her from rumors that she was a sapphist – rumors which, I found out on our wedding night, were true. I married her at a time when I was suffering from the effects of the war and had fallen out of favor with Ottilia's family. The marriage has officially been annulled – ahead of schedule, and now I've returned to correct my mistake with Ottilia."
"You're too late," Lucas replied. "Tilly loves me."
"Tilly doesn't even know you. She has no clue who you are - what you are. And neither do you.
I've taken the liberty of checking into you, Bouchard, and was surprised by what I discovered. You see, Tilly is a Princess from a long line of royalty. You are nothing but an orphan who was adopted by an aunt out of familial duty and ultimately became a burden and psychological misfit. Have you not noticed the trail of destruction you leave behind? Dead birth mother, abducted sister, murdered fiancée – why, even in gambler's terms, I'm sure you would agree that being with you is a bad bet. And once Tilly realizes this and gets over the pretty face, I'm sure she will come to her senses and leave this nonsense. My concern is the ruin she will face in the meantime."
Lucas stood. "Michael, it's late, and you've been drinking. I haven't the patience to listen to your insults," he said, standing and turning toward the door.
"Then maybe you'll listen to this," Melrose said, lifting up a file in his hand and taking out the contents. "Crime report from the Northwest Mounted Police, Hope Valley, Constable Nathan Grant reporting – I'm sure you recognize that name."
Lucas stopped and turned around as Melrose continued. "Concerning the unprovoked beating death of an unarmed man – one Solomon Drake. The culprit: one Lucas Bouchard, owner of the Queen of Hearts Saloon – dated earlier this year."
Lucas furrowed his brow. "What?!"
"Oh, it's all here," he said, tossing the folder on a desk. "Read it for yourself. A strong young man attacks a frail elderly farmer - without provocation, leaving him dead in a pool of his own blood on the floor of his saloon. Testimony says the man wasn't armed and apparently didn't even say a word a word to you. You just lunged at him and killed him."
Lucas slowly moved toward the desk, taking a seat as he picked up the paper. As he read Nathan's report, images of Drake appeared in his mind, and a sense of horror came over him, enhanced by the malevolent hiss of Melrose's words, which continued to accuse him.
"It would appear you are a man not in control of his own faculties – a violent man – a man plagued by insanity. Is that the sort of man worthy of Ottilia's trust?"
Lucas did not respond.
"This isn't about me, Bouchard. It's about Tilly's honor and happiness, and it's about her protection. That the Princess of Dashma would leave home and begin to associate with a gambler, an associate of men like Amos Dixon – that's bad enough. But for someone of her station to marry a man prone to murderous rage? Unconscionable.
And let's just say that this was a one-time event, as the psychiatrist indicated to the court – prior, of course, to your subsequent psychosis – is it right that the Princess of Dashma be saddled with someone with such emotional instability? You have yet to come to grips with the death of your former fiancée – whom you failed to protect at the expense of her life. Do you want to be that sort of drag on your "Tilly" whom you claim to love?
And what about the murder of Drake? It wasn't hard for me, a friend of the crown, to get ahold of this – what happens when the king's enemies do so? Can you imagine the scandal? The abject shame that Tilly would have to face over her choices? She would literally lose it all – her home, her honor, her place in history – and over what? A psychological basket case that has never fit in with anyone? Come on, man, you really can't believe that her father will go for that, can you?"
Lucas's chest tightened as he considered the words. Was Melrose right? Was what he was saying true? He'd rather die than bring harm to Tilly or cause her distress.
Keeping his composure until he was out of the room, Lucas stumbled after closing the door. He breathed deeply, trying to calm the emotion that overwhelmed him. He would have to leave. That much was clear – at least until he could gain some clarity of mind. But how on earth could he do so? How could he turn away from someone who was now so much a part of him – someone who possessed his entire heart – someone with whom he planned to spend the rest of his life?
Blinded by the tears that threatened, he somehow made his way up the stairs and into his room. Leaning against the closed door, he placed his face in his hands. It was late and he had to think, and yet there was only time to act. Hurrying to his desk, he pulled out two envelopes and some stationery.
Lucas penned a short note to Jenny, letting her know that something had come up and that he needed to go away for a while. He assured her that he was sane and asked that she not try to pursue him. He would keep in touch to let her know that he was okay. When he was finished, he placed the letter in an envelope and sealed it, then he turned to the second piece of paper and froze. He stared at the second piece of paper, reaching for it several times with a shaking hand before the tears finally began to fall - leaving blotches on the corner of the sheet. Choking back the desire to sob, Lucas quickly wiped his eyes and began to write.
My Dearest Tilly,
I'm not sure how to begin this letter other than to express my profound regret for having to do so at all. It will no doubt be a difficult one for you to read, much less understand, and with little time to explain what has happened, I fear it will leave more questions for you than answers. Unfortunately, that is the way it needs to be at this time.
I must leave tonight, and I am not sure when I will return. I care for you deeply – a fact which, ironically, makes it all the more necessary that I go. I know it is confusing, but things have come to light that may very well prevent a future for us. And until I can gain clarity concerning those things, I cannot in good conscience ask for you to embrace a future with me or even continue our relationship, despite our feelings for one another. All I know is that for your own protection, at this time, we cannot be together.
I do not know where these revelations will take me other than away from here. But please do not think that you have done anything wrong. You have been perfect, an angel, a miracle in my life, and I shall always cherish the time we have shared together.
The issue rests entirely with me. Yet, while this is the case, I do not wish for you to ever doubt my feelings for you. I love you completely, Tilly, and always will. It's just it would not be fair of me to hold on to you or continue to pursue a relationship with you when I am unsure of who or what kind of person, I am. This does not mean that I have given up; rather, I feel I must protect you from the possibility that a life with me would only bring sorrow. So much has happened in my life that has gone that way, and yet, my devotion to you is such that to even think of a life without you is more than I can bear. I hope to find the answers to my questions quickly and then to return.
Enclosed in this envelope is a ring. I had hoped to present it to you tomorrow night when I asked for your hand in marriage. In fact, your father was to call me in the morning, and I was to ask his permission, hoping we could marry as soon as possible and be together forever. But, as is so often the case in my life, calamity reared its ugly head, and events from my past have derailed my intentions – at least for now. I must determine the truth. There can be no "us" until I do.
Assuming that there are favorable answers to the questions I have, I will come back once my past is settled and behind me, in hopes that you will be waiting for me.
You own my heart and I can't wait to see your beautiful face again when I will at last be able to ask you to be my wife with a clear conscience and a whole mind, and we can build our future together.
I shall not attempt to contact you anymore until I am certain that I am the kind of man you deserve. If you have not heard from me by the end of the new year, I want you to move on. Your happiness is my priority, and for that, I would sacrifice it all. Until we meet again,
I love you, my Princess, and am forever yours.
Lucas
Crying in earnest now, Lucas pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his eyes and face. When his emotions were spent and he had gained some composure, he took a deep breath, folded the letter, and placed it in the envelope. Picking up the ring, he held it to his lips and closed his eyes, cherishing the feel of it in his hands one more time before dropping it into the envelope next to the paper. He then sealed the back. Quietly, he left his room with both letters, placing them underneath the correct bedroom doors, and then returned to his room to pack his belongings. It was a little before one o'clock in the morning when Lucas left the home.
Melrose remained hidden in a darkened portion of the hallway as he observed Bouchard's actions. He waited until Lucas was gone when he was certain he wouldn't be seen, and then carefully walked to Tilly's door and bent down to retrieve the envelope that lay there peeking out from underneath. Pocketing it, he returned to his bedroom with a smirk.
With the break of dawn, the household began to stir, Tilly being the first to arise when she saw rays of sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. Quickly dressing, she made her way to Lucas's room to surprise him with a kiss to start his day, but when she opened the door, she was met at first with confusion and then with despair as she realized he was gone.
"Jenny, Nathan!"
The blonde-haired woman didn't even consider the fact that she was bursting in on newlyweds as she entered the Grants' room. Thankfully, the pair was sound asleep and in a suitable state of dress for their visitor to see them.
"Tilly?" a groggy Jenny said, raising up onto her elbows. "What's wrong?"
"He's gone!"
"What? Who?"
"Lucas! He left. His luggage is gone. His clothing is gone. And he's taken the motorcycle as well."
"Was there any kind of an argument?" Jenny asked. "After we went to bed?"
"No!" Tilly said, beginning to cry. "He kissed me and said goodnight. Everything was fine - or so I thought."
Nathan and Jenny looked at one another with confusion and then rose to get out of bed.
"I'll go check things out," the former Mountie said, reaching toward a nearby chair for his robe. "I'm sure there's a logical explanation."
Jenny stood as well, walking over to Tilly, who appeared absolutely lost.
"Where is he, Jenny? What could have happened?"
Jenny walked over to Lucas's distraught girlfriend and hugged her. "I don't know, Tilly. But we'll find out."
"But what if he's gone forever?"
"He won't be," she replied. "I know my brother. He loves you with everything he is. He'll be back. Don't you worry."
Lucas had to get away.
From New York. From Montrose. From the jumbled thoughts inside his head -and sadly, from Tilly. She deserved better than what he could give her.
As he stood on a corner with his suitcases, having just given his motorcycle away to a poor factory worker (he wouldn't need it now), a large truck pulled up and stopped. Although it was chilly outside, the passenger window was down.
"Need a ride?" The driver called out, motioning for Lucas to get in. "I'm headed to Tennessee."
"So am I," Lucas responded as he settled in, rolling the window partially up. "Lucas Bouchard," he said, holding out his hand.
"Chester Long. Nice to meet you," the friendly man replied. A nod was his passenger's reply.
Chester was the chatty sort, keeping a dialogue going as the miles went by, with Lucas only nodding or giving short responses. An hour into their trip, Long looked over. "You don't talk much, do you? You aren't running from the law, are you?"
"No. Nothing like that. Just need to move on."
"Then it must be a woman or something from the past. Something is troubling you."
The cab remained quiet for a time before the driver spoke again. "I can tell you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, young man. I'd like to give you some wisdom from an older man's point of view.
Life has a way of messing with us. Sometimes, things happen that are our fault, and sometimes, those things are completely out of our control. We need to figure out which is which, learn to forgive ourselves for the messes we created, and put aside the ones we had no hand in. It took me a long time to learn to leave the past in the past so I could move forward with my future. I hope you can learn that much earlier than I did."
The words hit their mark, and Lucas contemplated what they meant for him as he rode along in silence.
December 12, 1920
It had been two weeks, and there had been little to no word about Lucas. Nathan's Pinkerton colleagues had discovered almost immediately that Lucas had given away the motorcycle and knew that he had accepted a ride with a stranger driving a truck who was heading West, and since that time, had discovered that Bouchard had wired himself some money at a bank in Memphis, Tennessee. But that knowledge came several days ago, and there had been nothing since.
At first, Tilly tried to keep a stiff upper lip and go on with life as usual, hopefully waiting to hear from him. But as the days went by and there had been no word, she fell into a deep depression, taking to her bed and refusing to join the others in any activities. She wondered what she had done to drive him away and why he would have left so suddenly without even so much as a word.
The others tried to comfort her, even though their comfort rang hollow. What could they say? They didn't know any more than she did. Everyone was worried, and some had suggested that Lucas had suffered another mental break – especially Michael, who, while appearing to be sympathetic, nevertheless did everything he could to plant seeds of doubt in Tilly's mind – telling her that it's not always the same for men as it is for women and perhaps Lucas knew that she wanted more than he could give. He even had the audacity to suggest that Bouchard had perhaps not loved her at all.
None of this activity helped Tilly in the least, and soon, the worries of the group expanded to include her. After a week or so of her mourning and barely eating, Ari Falkenberg had had enough. He telephoned the king and informed him of the state his daughter was in. This was the last thing Tilly needed at the time because it spurred her father and brother to rearrange their schedules to come to New York to see her. Michael shared the news that they would arrive that weekend, Saturday, December 18th – information that did not have the desired effect of mollification. Rather, Tilly burst out into tears and demanded that Melrose leave her room. She wanted to be left alone.
"I can do nothing with her!" he announced, pacing as he did and then walking to the bar to pour himself a drink.
"What did she say when you told her of her father?" Sophia asked.
"She began to blubber like a child. I thought that would cheer her up, but it only seemed to make things worse. I just don't understand. It's not like they knew each other for very long – not like us, at least."
"Love doesn't always work that way," Nathan said. "One doesn't choose when or how it happens; it just does."
"Perhaps so," Michael replied. "But the least she could have done was choose someone more suitable for her."
"Excuse me?!" Jenny responded.
Melrose didn't hesitate. "The son of an accountant? He hasn't the first idea of what it's like to be a royal."
"And neither do you," Ari responded sharply. "The Bouchards are an honorable family and well respected."
"Respect is earned, not inherited."
"Something you need to remember as well, Michael. Just because your father is a friend of King Alexei and the Duke of Wales does not mean the respect he has been afforded automatically passes to his progeny. You may have received an annulment, but the whispers over what happened between you and Tilly were quite loud and not in your favor." Sophia said.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means watch your step. You're not on solid ground."
"We shall see about that," Melrose responded. "The king listens to me, and there are many men in this world who would love to do business with him. He doesn't need you or your husband."
"Enough!" Ari replied. "I will have no more of this type of discussion from either one of you, and we will have no disparaging of Lucas Bouchard in this household. Clearly, something happened that caused him to leave, and we should all feel concerned."
"Concerned for Bouchard - a confidence trickster?" Melrose replied.
"What?!" Jenny said.
"Your brother's condition was exceedingly rare. I am of the opinion that it was all a con. Maybe after the death of your would-be sister-in-law, he decided he needed to go find another heiress. Mrs. Thornton did come from a wealthy family, did she not?"
"How dare you!" Jenny said, standing up.
"Whoa, whoa…." Nathan said, standing with her and keeping her from lunging at Melrose then and there. "Maybe you should go check on Tilly. If she's that upset, she needs someone beside her," he said to his wife.
Jenny glared at Michael, who stared back at her with a smug demeanor.
"My brother is an honest, noble, industrious young man who, unlike you, made his own fortune – not from our parents."
"Through illicit gambling. That doesn't sound very honest to me."
"Michael! A word," Ari said, his face beet red as fire flashed through his veins.
Melrose walked away from his spot, picking up his drink as he followed Falkenberg out of the room.
Jenny tightened her fist into a ball, and Nathan again wrapped his arm around her. "He's just goading you," he whispered. "Go check on Tilly. She needs you."
The door had barely closed when Falkenberg laid into Michael, reiterating to him how the Bouchards were above reproach and indicating that, despite his obvious jealousy, their son was off limits.
"This isn't about me," Michael retorted. "It's about protecting Tilly and about protecting those around her. Were you told that Bouchard killed an unarmed man with his bare hands less than a year ago?"
Ari paused. "What? I don't believe it."
"It's true," Melrose replied. "It was in the police report that Nathan Grant himself wrote while he was constable. "
"They…they never said anything about that."
"Yes, well, perhaps the Bouchards aren't who you thought they were at all.
"Tilly…Tilly, dear, are you awake? I've brought you some tea."
Jenny slowly stepped into the room, darkened by drawn draperies, and made her way over to the bed. With the little light that was there, she could tell Ottilia was sitting up in bed quietly staring into space. She set the teacup down on the nightstand, then moved over toward the window and opened the shades. Turning, her heart nearly broke at the sight before her. Tilly looked pale and thin and had clearly been crying.
"Tilly, what's wrong, dear one? Talk to me," she said.
Ottilia shook her head. "There's nothing to say. He left me. I drove him away."
"What?" Jenny asked. "Tilly, you didn't do anything."
"Yes," Tilly responded. "I did. I pushed him to go further in our relationship than he was ready to go. I should have known he wasn't ready, but I pursued him. I caused what happened to happen. He tried to back away, but I insisted. I made him make love to me, and now, I've ruined everything."
Jenny pulled a chair over to Tilly's bed and then lifted the teacup to hand to her. "Here, drink this. You need to hydrate."
Reluctantly, Rasmussen took the cup and sipped some of the tea, half-heartedly setting it down and returning to her blank stare.
"I know it's difficult right now, and things seem really dark – but I'm telling you, Tilly, I would not give up on him. My brother loves you. Perhaps he just needs some time."
"No!" Tilly said. "It was too much too soon. That's why he left. He wasn't ready. I should have known that he was dealing with so much and not have added more to his burden."
"You weren't a burden to him, Tilly. In fact, I've never seen him happier."
"Then why did he leave?" she asked, looking toward the sister. "Why did he say goodnight and then walk away without any explanation, not even a note? You received a note, but he left nothing for me."
Jenny paused and shook her head. She had struggled with that question herself, knowing that the Lucas Bouchard she knew would have never done such a thing. She had no answers.
"He will have to answer that question when he returns. All I can say is that I know definitively that my brother is in love with you and would never have left you without a good reason. He will be back."
Tilly shook her head. "It'll be too late then. With my father coming in a few days, it's all going to change."
"I don't understand."
"Jenny, my family is very strict, and personal morality is something that the crown takes very seriously. The kingdom itself relies upon it and any hint of scandal could cause everything my father back to his father's father has worked for to fall apart."
Jenny shook her head. "Who says he needs to find out?"
"Oh, he'll find out."
"How? Who is going to tell him? Nobody knows, but a few people and none of us are talking."
"The hands of time will tell him."
Jenny squinted. "I don't understand."
Tilly paused, a frightened look appearing on her face as her eyes again whelmed with tears. She closed her eyes and the tears roll down her cheeks.
Jenny reached out to her. "Tilly, what are you worried about? Why does your father coming to America bother you so much?"
"I can't bear to disappoint him."
Jenny smiled softly, "I sincerely doubt you will do that."
Then Tilly looked her in the eyes. "Jenny, I'm late."
The words hung in the air as a confused Jenny Grant pondered them.
"You're late? Late for what?"
Then Tilly spoke them again. "I'm late….late. By over two weeks."
Jenny pondered what Tilly had said, and then her eyes rose with understanding.
"Oh, Tilly…."
Tilly began to cry. "I didn't mean it to happen. I mean we were just in that way that one time. I didn't think it would happen that quickly."
Jenny reached out and took her hand, then moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "You sweet girl. No wonder you're so worried."
Tilly began to sob, and Jenny took the teacup out of her hand, setting it again on the nightstand and then hugging the weeping princess in her arms.
"Don't you worry about a thing. These things happen," she said, stroking the younger woman's hair.
Just outside of the room Michael Melrose walked up to the door and began to knock, but the door was already opened. He heard Tilly crying, and then he heard the rest.
"Tilly, don't you worry about a thing. It's not like this is the first time something like this has happened in this world."
"But, Jenny…the kingdom…"
"Is not your concern," Grant replied. "You only need to worry about two things: that baby and staying healthy for when he or she gets here."
"And my father. Jenny, he will throw me out on the street!"
Jenny stiffened. "I doubt that, but if he does, you still have us. You never need to worry about being alone. You will always have us, and I know when Lucas returns, he will be ecstatic."
"Are you sure?"
Jenny smiled and moved back to look at her. "I'm positive. I know the timing isn't what you would have wanted it to be, but these things happen for a reason. And a baby – what a blessing! It is going to work out okay. I promise you. I have faith."
Tilly returned a soft but wary smile. Her heart was broken, but at least now she wasn't alone.