Graydon frowned as he seemed to be trying to figure out what had triggered this outburst. “Lorcan should not have told you of my dislike of the Ulten cheese. It was not her place.”
Toby made her hands into fists. “That isn’t about cheese. That woman was letting me know that you belong to her.”
Graydon looked shocked. “Lorcan and I have never—”
Toby threw up her hands. “How can men be so dumb? How are you able to dress yourselves when you have no brains at all?”
Graydon’s eyes widened.
Letting out her breath, Toby unclenched her fists. “Has a woman ever yelled at you before?”
“No,” he said. “And may I say that I find it quite confusing? I have tried to be courteous at all times. I have had a few lapses in decorum. You in your …” He motioned up and down with his hand. “I should not have stayed in the room with you when you were so scantily attired, but I could not make myself leave.”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” She wiped away the tears. She no longer felt like crying. Now only anger ran through her. “Is Daire married?” she asked abruptly.
“No, he is not.”
“I just wondered because he let me know that if I’m willing, he is. Right now, I’m thinking that I’ll take him up on his offer.” With that, she went to the door and stepped into the old bedroom.
Graydon caught her by the arm. His face was fierce. If she didn’t know him she would have been frightened. “You will not bed my man.”
She glared at him. “The last I heard, I have free will.” She jerked away from his grasp, took a step forward, then looked back. “You want to know a truth about me?” She didn’t give him time to reply. “I’m not a virgin because I’m ‘saving myself for marriage.’ That was something I said because it’s fashionable. The truth is that no man has ever made me feel that passion I read about. When I was in college the girls would come in with their clothes on backward, then giggle about it. But I didn’t! Never once was I tempted by any of those boys. But when Daire looked at me, I did consider it. But then I realized that since you’re just a shorter, paler version of him, it was really you who I wanted, but—” She threw up her hands. “Oh, what does it matter? It’s not like you have any interest in me.” Turning, she started for the stairs down.
“Is that what this is about?” Graydon said from behind her. “You think I don’t desire you?”
She looked back at him, glaring. “Of course it isn’t. You’re engaged to someone else. Or you almost are. You’re going to marry someone who I bet is an overly tall woman with black eyes who would look down her nose at a washed-out blonde like me. I bet she can fight with a lance or any other weapon. Hey! Nantucket has a harpoon-throwing contest, so maybe Lorcan and your beloved Danna could enter. I’m sure they’d win.”
Toby ran down the stairs and he caught her at the bottom, his hands on her shoulders. “Let me go!”
But he didn’t release her. He put his face close to hers. “How can you not know?” he said, his eyes nearly as angry as hers. “How can you not feel what I go through every day with you? To be so near you yet not be allowed to touch you tears me apart. I lie awake at night, in the room so close to yours, and dream of going to you, of slipping into bed with you and pulling you into my arms.”
“But you’ve never said or done anything to make me think that’s true.”
“I dream of kissing your neck.” His eyes seemed to turn to black coals and every spark showed his desire for her. As his fingertips cut into her upper arms, she saw a different man from the one who laughed so easily. This man didn’t seem to laugh about anything. This man looked like one of his Lanconian warrior ancestors.
He pulled Toby against his hard chest, not gently but with force. “In the morning I lean over you so I can smell your hair. Just one soft whiff is all I ask.”
“Graydon,” she whispered, but he didn’t let her speak.
“I have seen women of all nationalities, all shapes and sizes, but I have never desired any of them as I do you.” His voice was more of a growl than a human sound. “I have wanted to touch you, caress you, make love to you, since the first day.”
Toby was blinking up at him, her eyes wide. He was making her feel as she’d never felt before. For the first time in her life she was experiencing what other girls did, what made them sigh and giggle—and it felt glorious! Powerful, really. Never in her life had she felt … well, so very pleased to be a woman.
It was tempting, like original-sin tempting, to hold her lips up to his and … Then what? They’d go at it on the floor?
With a bit of an inner smile of triumph, she pushed him away—and it took more than a little force. There, at last, was that look in his eyes that she’d wanted to see. Heat radiated from him like fire, drawing her to him. He made Daire seem like a boy. At this moment she could see how Graydon’s ancestors had won the kingship.
“No,” she said softly. “I’m not going to give in to you. You’re as good as a married man.”
Graydon fell back against the big newel post. “You thought I didn’t desire you and I showed you that I do, but now you’re saying no?”
“Yes, that’s right. But at least now I know where I stand with you and what all this is about. I’ll tell you something, Graydon Montgomery, I am not going to fall in love with you.” She flung the front door open, then stood back and looked at him, waiting for him to leave.
He looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t think of exactly what. Mostly, he looked bewildered.
It took a great deal of discipline on her part, but Toby didn’t comfort him. He’d hidden his true feelings for her since they’d met, which made her very angry. And now that he’d revealed himself he seemed to think she’d give in to him instantly.
No, she valued herself a great deal more than that! Graydon put his hands in his pockets and left the house.
As soon as Graydon was outside, Toby slipped on the rain-soaked marble floor and hit her head on the edge of the door. She caught herself before she reached the floor, and for a moment she stood there, watching Graydon walk down the path toward the lane. Never before had she seen his shoulders slumped, but they were now. The rain was pounding down on him but he seemed oblivious to it.
She watched him until he crossed the road and went inside her house. Part of her hoped he’d turn and look back and see her standing there, but he didn’t.
She closed the front door and leaned against it for a moment. It was going to take a while for the anger inside her to calm down. And she needed to think about everything in her life right now. One thing she knew for sure was that if she had any sense she’d tell all the Lanconians to leave, and this included the almost-married Graydon. Kingsley House was free of guests now so maybe they could stay there.
But she needed time to figure out what to do. A flash of lightning momentarily illuminated the entryway and she looked at the two doorways that led into the rooms. As had happened upstairs, she knew which door to go through. Inside the door on the right was a large room with a big fireplace along one wall. Beside it was a cabinet door. “It’s been built over the old oven,” she said aloud, then frowned. Obviously, she’d been going on too many of the old house tours on Nantucket.
At the back was another door and she went to it. Inside was a small room with a little fireplace along one wall.
Suddenly, she felt dizzy, and when she put her hand to her head, it felt wet. Another burst of lightning showed blood on her fingertips. When she slipped she must have cut her head. She knew she should go home and bandage it, but the thought of confronting Graydon right now made her hesitate. She needed to consider all aspects of this situation. What happened after what had been revealed between them? Was their friendship over? In the coming weeks should she do what Lexie had advised and have a rip-roaring good time in bed with Graydon—even though she now had an idea of the pain she’d feel when he left? And besides, would they carry on this affair with the flirting Daire and sneeri
ng Lorcan downstairs?
The more she thought, the dizzier Toby felt.
She looked about the little room. The only furniture in it was a hard little cot pushed against the wall. “Where’s the card table?” she whispered. And that hard little sofa that her great-aunt Marjorie had needlepointed the upholstery for? But then, she’d had the time to do that, since she’d been widowed at twenty-four.
“The same age as me,” Toby said aloud and again she felt dizzy. How was she making these things up? She really did need to get the cut on her head looked at.
It was as she put her hand on the door that she turned to look at the old paneling on one wall. She couldn’t really see it, but she knew there was a narrow door there. It was hidden by the paneling. In fact, you could look at that wall and not even see that there was a door.
But Toby knew not only that it was there, but how to open it. The brass catch was hidden behind a piece of wood that had to be pushed to one side before you could see that latch.
It was as though she was drawn to that side of the room, pulled toward it, but at the same time she fought against touching it. She knew that inside was something horrible. No! Inside something very bad had happened.
She put her hand on the panel and tried to slide the wood to the side. Over the years—centuries, really—the wood had swollen and shrunk, and the finish that John Kendricks had put on there was gone.
It took both hands to push the wood back, and by the time she got it aside, she was crying—and the blood from the cut on her temple was running down the side of her face.
Here is where I died, she thought, then repeated aloud, “Here is where I died.”
She put her hand out to open the door but she couldn’t make herself do it. She turned away. “I must go home,” she said. “To Garrett.” Lightning struck outside. “No. To Silas.”
She put her hand to her forehead and managed to make it to the cot. Her mind seemed to be twirling about with faces and images that were familiar but at the same time strange. Victoria was there, smiling at her, her red hair pulled high up on her head, and the front of her dress was so low cut that Toby was almost blushing. And Victoria was young, Toby’s age.
“Are you well?” Victoria asked. “Or did you have too much cider? Or too much dancing?”
Toby touched her temple, but it no longer seemed to be bleeding.
“Why don’t you stay in here and rest for a while?” Victoria said, smiling down at Toby. “Come out when you have recovered.”
Toby sat up on the sofa and looked around her. The room seemed familiar, but it took her a moment to place it. “Am I in Kingsley House?”
“Oh, my! You have had too much of that brew the Kingsleys are serving. You don’t remember that this is Captain Caleb’s new house? Not that I’ve met the man, but everyone wonders what he’ll say when he returns and finds his builder has used the house for his own wedding before the captain has so much as spent one night in it. But then, no one seems overly concerned about injuring the pride of a Kingsley. After what I’ve heard, my opinion is that someday a woman should say no to one of them just for the pleasure of it.” Victoria leaned toward Toby. “But I need not tell you that, do I? Do you mean to tell the family tonight?”
Toby’s head was beginning to clear somewhat but that didn’t take away her confusion. She looked down at herself and saw she was wearing a dress similar to Victoria’s. It was all white, with short, puffy sleeves, a low neckline—but she was showing only half as much as Victoria was—and a long skirt that was beautifully embroidered around the hem. Vaguely, she seemed to remember that she had done the embroidery, which was absurd since she’d never sewn anything in her life.
“Do you mean I’m to tell Jared something?” Toby asked.
“Dearest, there are a dozen Jareds on this island. Which one are you talking about?”
“Jared Montgomery Kingsley the Seventh,” Toby said, giving her friend’s full name.
Smiling, Victoria took Toby’s hands and pulled her up from the little sofa. “The only Montgomery on this island is me, and I can assure you that there’s no Kingsley who I’d attach my name to. Arrogant bunch of swaggering …” She broke off. “I am telling you nothing that you don’t already know.”
Victoria looked Toby up and down and seemed satisfied with what she saw. “I have changed my mind. There will be no more hiding in here. Come and join the celebration.” She put her arm through Toby’s and led her out the door.
“What are we celebrating?” Toby asked tentatively.
Victoria laughed. “You are inebriated! It’s John and Parthenia’s wedding, but I know how you feel. It’s all rather plain, isn’t it? When I get married I shall wear a gown of silk, with blue satin ribbons on the sleeves. And I shall marry a man who will love me for all eternity.”
“That’s asking a lot,” Toby said.
“You think that because all you ask of a man is that he stay alive.” When Victoria opened the door there was a burst of light and sound: music, laughter, and the blaze of what had to be a hundred candles. Before them was a scene out of a period drama. They were in the large back parlor of Kingsley House and it was full of people who were all dressed as though for a Jane Austen movie. The women had on dresses like the one Toby was wearing: high waisted, with long, flowing skirts. The men wore jackets that stopped at the waist, with trousers that were like tights.
Three men stopped in front of Victoria, silently waiting for her to notice them. Toby wasn’t surprised by that, for Victoria was a ravishingly beautiful woman, and the very low cut of her dress left little to the imagination.
“Will you be all right?” Victoria asked.
“Of course,” Toby said, even though she was feeling as though she wanted to run away and hide.
Victoria leaned toward her and whispered, “Remember that tonight you must tell them.”
“Tell who what?” Toby asked, feeling a bit of panic that Victoria was leaving her side.
Victoria laughed. “If I had to say what you must, I would also try to forget.” She stepped toward the dancers. “Eat something. It will clear your mind and give you courage.”
Victoria turned away and Toby stood where she was. This is a dream, she thought. A very vivid dream caused by too much emotion in the last few days.
She took a step back, moving behind some women who were watching the dancers. They smiled at her as though they knew her, but Toby didn’t remember ever having seen them. When she was in the shadows she felt safer, not overwhelmed by this much too realistic dream.
A couple walked by. He was holding her arm tightly and leaning over her as though he feared that she might fly away from him. With a jolt, Toby realized that they were Jilly and Ken, who’d only recently met but were already a couple.
The familiarity of them made Toby relax somewhat. It looked like she was putting people she knew in her dream. Victoria and now Ken and Jilly. That they were all wearing Regency clothes made sense, as Toby loved any Jane Austen movie and owned all the DVDs. “Wonder who else I’ve put in my dream?” she said aloud.
“Did you say something, Tabby?” an older woman in front of her said as she turned to look at her.
Toby smiled. “Is that short for Tabitha?” she asked.
Two other women turned to look at her, frowning. “I think you should seek out your mother,” one of them said.
“No,” Toby said pleasantly. “This is my dream, so I think I’ll skip that encounter.” She moved around the women and went to the doorway. She had to let three people pass—none of whom she recognized—before she could go through, and found herself in the back hallway of Kingsley House.
The house looked so new! Everything was so clean and fresh, as though it really had just been built instead of being over two hundred years old. At the end of the hall, she came to the front parlor. It had always been the most formal room in the house, where all the best furniture was, where the beautiful things that Captain Caleb had brought back from his voyages were kept.
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The room was much like Toby knew it, but there was half as much in it. And everything looked sparkling new. The old couch that she and Lexie had sat on many times wasn’t there. In its place was a long settee upholstered in needlepoint of a seafaring scene: a harbor with a ship; ladies holding on to the arms of gentlemen; men in big shirts, tight trousers, and boots; and workmen moving huge bales of goods about.
There were a few people in the room and they smiled and nodded at Toby.
“Tabby, be sure to get some cake before it’s all gone,” a man said as he and the woman with him left the room.
Toby answered that she would, then returned to looking about. There was a long, narrow lacquered box on a corner cabinet and she recognized it from having seen it in the attic of Kingsley House. When she’d tried to open it, Lexie said, “There’s no key. It’s been lost over the years.”
“You could get a locksmith,” Toby said.
“Top of my list of things to do,” Lexie said and they’d laughed.
Now Toby saw that the key to the box was sticking out. It made sense that it would be in her dream since she’d been curious about it. She turned the key and opened the box. Inside, perfectly fitted in satin-lined compartments, were twelve jade figures of animals. She recognized them as Chinese zodiac symbols. “What a beautiful collection,” she whispered aloud as she closed the lid and turned the key.
“There you are!” came a woman’s voice so familiar that it made the hair on Toby’s neck stand up. This is my dream, she thought as she closed her eyes very tightly. Go away! she said to herself. Go away right now!
“Tabitha?” the woman said. “Valentina said you weren’t feeling well.”
Toby’s fingers closed over the key to the box, and when she turned around, she looked into the face of her mother.
But as alike as the face was, there was a difference. For one thing, she wasn’t glowering at her daughter as though Toby had yet again committed some great sin. That had been the expression she’d grown up with, the look her mother had given her all her life. As far as Toby remembered, she’d never pleased her mother in anything she’d ever done.