Love By The Book (9 page)

I was startled out of my giddy thoughts by the sound of the doorbell ringing. I’d forgotten he didn’t have a key; Carlita would never have stood for it.

Snatching up a jar of sparkling body powder from atop my dresser, I hastily gave my exposed skin a quick dusting over before making a dash for the front door. A second later, I came hopping back, trying to avoid tripping over the hem of my dress, to snatch up my wrap.

Then half-running, half-stumbling I rushed to the front door, barely catching myself before colliding into it. He would have heard that out in the hall. A glance at the clock revealed I had a few minutes to spare. We wouldn’t be late after all if he suited himself up quickly enough. I paused a moment to draw another calming breath and give myself a final once over in the mirror hanging over the coat-hooks. Then I opened the door. Outside, dressed in magnificent antiquated evening garb and proffering a calla lily bouquet, waited a duke.

Chapter 16

I held my breath for the space of a heartbeat before blurting out, “Duke, you’re…”

“Already dressed?” he suggested helpfully.

“I was going to say, you’re like a duke,” I responded.
I was going to say you’re amazing
. “Where did you get that costume? You look like you stepped out of a painting.”
Or a book
. I took in the walking stick and the long cloak trailing down his shoulders to swish the floor. Even the sling had again been removed from his arm for the evening. I thought I ought to chide him for that but what came out instead was, “You didn’t steal that outfit from the display at the museum, did you?” I was only half joking.

He took me seriously. “No, I did not. The tailor on River Street works miracles, that’s all. I ordered more than a few alterations.”

“I see,” I said, studying the old-fashioned shoes incasing his feet and the high, white collar gripping his throat. A silver stickpin had been thrust through the satiny fabric and the familiar gold pocket watch dangled from his vest pocket. I wouldn’t wonder now what all this had cost. He was wearing a fortune’s worth of antiques as casually as I might walk around in a T-shirt and a pair of sweats.

Then again I’d never seen him more attractive. He was like the dashing prince out of some fairytale.
No, not a prince, a duke
. Shaking my head to clear it, I gathered my wrap around my shoulders, feeling suddenly shy under his perusal.

“A gentleman,” he said, “is accustomed to complimenting his companion for the evening, whatever my appearance. But may I say that I never meant it as much as I do now when I say you look exquisite.”

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. “Yes, you may,” I said and then realized that he already had. I cleared my throat and dropped any images I’d been harboring of myself as a romantic heroine. “Okay, let’s get out of here. The show starts in forty-five minutes.”

***

The theatre’s downstairs lobby was crowded and the line leading upstairs crawled. Nevertheless, I was enjoying every minute of the wait. It was such a classy crowd packed in around me, the men in evening tuxes and the women draped in furs and expensive jewelry. For just a few hours I could be one of them, imagining that I was a wealthy patron of the arts who spent every Friday night like this.

Duke’s unusual costume garnered a few stares. Some people even seemed to think he was part of the show. But he wore his two-century-old style clothes so well that no one pointed or laughed. In fact, I sensed as I glided by on his arm that I was the envy of more than one of these women.

I felt as if this was all part of some weird dream as we turned in our tickets. When an usher pointed us toward our seats, we found we had indeed made a good deal for ourselves. We had center seats in the front row of the balcony. Duke ushered me to my seat like a true gentleman and was helping me rearrange my wrap around my shoulders when the lights began to dim.

The next hour seemed unreal to me. I’d always liked music well enough on the radio or a CD, but attending a live performance was something altogether different. The exotic sets and the bright costumes swept me away to another world, one where lovers broke into song and dance at the drop of a hat and nobody even gave them a second look—except, of course, for the audience. I applauded so long throughout the ovations that between acts my hands were stinging.

During the intermission, Duke asked, smiling, “Can I take it then your money was well spent? I know you seemed a little put out with me when I bought the tickets, but I hope the music of
Clotilda
has won you over.” He looked suddenly anxious. “You are enjoying the evening, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. I know you always tell me I’m too negative, but even I can’t find anything to complain about tonight.”

His gaze was hopeful. “You mean you are happy? Right at this moment?” He glanced around us at the streams of people still trickling back to their seats as the time for the intermission came to an end. “I had hoped that you would be, because I—”

Whatever he had been about to say was cut off when the lights suddenly faded again and we were plunged into darkness. After the first round from the orchestra had died down and things had grown quieter on the stage, he leaned over and continued, “I wanted you to be happy with me this evening, because I was beginning to worry there had been some mistake in my coming. At first you didn’t seem to want me here and I thought—”

“That’s ridiculous,” I cut him off in an amazed whisper. “Why wouldn’t I want you with me? You’re the one who bought the tickets.”

“No, I didn’t mean
here
specifically,” he whispered. “I mean a more general ‘here.’ In your life, that is.”

People around us were beginning to stare and the lady in the next seat made a shushing noise, but it wasn’t that that left me speechless. “Have I treated you so badly?” I asked.

He studied my face. “Not badly, exactly,” he said and then changed his story in midstream. “Well, yes, actually ‘badly’ does cover it rather well.” He smiled as if to soften the words. “I’ve tried to acclimatize myself to the changes I’ve been forced into so quickly, but I understand your impatience at what must seem to you like oddities in my behavior. It’s clear you see me as an annoyance, a bumbling child you have to look after.”

“I don’t think that at all—” I tried to protest but was instantly shushed by a half dozen voices.

We both fell into an abashed silence for a few moments until our neighbors had returned their attentions to the stage. Then Duke leaned close to whisper very quietly, “It’s all right. We can talk about it later. I’m just glad to see you having a good time.” His breath was warm on my ear, and he gave my hand an accompanying squeeze that swept away any worries I’d had. It was too wonderful a night for squabbling.

The next half of the performance passed by in a blur of color and song. I hardly heard or saw the rest of what played out before me, so intently was I concentrating on the light pressure of Duke’s hand still resting over mine. He had good hands. Scholar’s fingers, I reminded myself with a smile.

Careful not to turn my head enough that the movement would catch his attention, I studied him surreptitiously. I rather liked the look of his profile in the dim light. His nose looked longer and sharper than ever, but his eyes softened his features enough to keep them from appearing too cold or superior. I realized he was aware of my perusal. He never took his gaze from the performers on stage, but the corner of his mouth formed into a small, satisfied smile that said he guessed something of my thoughts. I snapped my attention back to the stage and did my best to concentrate on the performance after that.

***

Outside, the sidewalk was crowded with other theatergoers trying to catch taxis. When I would have joined the others milling along the edge of the curb, Duke pulled me back.

“It’s a pleasant night,” he said. “Let’s walk a little distance.”

“All the way back home?” I was incredulous.

He shrugged off the question. “We can hail a cab when our feet get tired. Come on. The air will do us good.”

I gave in and we set off down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace. My high heels wouldn’t allow for anything faster than that. He had been right about one thing. It was a pleasant night. The evening was warm, and the city alive with lights and noise. Cars streamed by on the street and other pedestrians hurried past. But somehow the honking of car horns and the presence of passing strangers didn’t spoil the lingering mood that had overtaken me during the show.

We walked in comfortable silence before I finally summoned the nerve to disturb the peacefulness between us. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked reluctantly. “The thing we were discussing in the theatre? How I’ve behaved like a cold-hearted witch ever since we met?”

“Not
ever
since,” he joked. “You were nice enough while I was an invalid in the hospital.”

I laughed. “You were so helpless, how could I not take pity on you? But I know I’ve been short with you at other times, and I apologize for that.”

“Then enough said,” he answered agreeably.

“Really?” I asked unbelievingly. “That’s all? You’re not going to start a lecture and slam me with some good old-fashioned honesty? Tell me how I should brighten my attitude and change my ways?”

“Now why would I do that? I like your ways. Or most of them. Your attitude, now I’ll admit that could use some work.”

I sobered. “In all seriousness, I know I’ve been a little bossy and sarcastic, and I want to explain myself. If I’ve been hot and cold with you, I guess it’s because I’m trying to figure some things out right now.”

He nodded. “Like whether or not you’re…‘interested’ in me? Is that the word you used in the bathroom? Or maybe it was ‘like.’ Did you say you ‘liked’ me?”

“Shut up,” I commanded, embarrassed. “You weren’t meant to hear that, and if you’d been a gentleman you’d have pretended you didn’t and put it out of your mind.”

“That just goes to show maybe I’m not quite the gentleman you’ve imagined me.”

We were passing the neon-lit front of a movie theatre, and he pulled me to a stop suddenly beneath the blue glow of the lights. Taking hold of both my arms, he pulled me closer.

“Wait. What are you doing?” I protested weakly. “You can’t have in mind what I think you do. There are people all around.”

“Just helping you make up your mind,” he said unapologetically and then pulled me into a tight embrace.

He lowered his mouth to mine, and when our lips met I forgot about the strangers streaming past, the noises from the street, and the blinking neon sign overhead. There was just the two of us alone. If I tried just a little I could imagine the serenity of a forest around us and the dark spires of the duke’s country estate rearing in the background. Instead of cold asphalt, I felt soft earth beneath my feet, and in place of horns blaring and cabbies cursing I heard the twitter of birds in the trees and the trickle of a forest stream. Duke’s arms tightened around me.

And then a passing pedestrian bumped into us. Reality came crashing in and I pulled back from Duke’s arms. “Get a room,” the stranger who had stumbled into us snapped as he steadied himself and hurried on his way again.

“He, uh, has a point,” I admitted. “I guess here isn’t the best place for this.”

“Tell me where would be the place for it, and we’ll go there.”

I stepped just out of his reach. “I think maybe we’d best just go home.” Suddenly, I didn’t know this confident stranger. And yet…I did. He had assumed more fully the role of the duke. I glanced uneasily around us. “Let’s just get a cab.”

He caught my elbow. “Before we get back to the apartment and find ourselves under the watchful eye of your friend again, I need you to tell me something.”

“Tell you?” I asked vaguely, keeping my eyes on the street. Arm in the air, I flagged down the next passing taxi. I suddenly needed very desperately to be back in the safety of my own room again. Too much was happening too fast, and I needed time alone to think. The cab drew up to the curb and sat waiting, but Duke still held my elbow in a grip that wouldn’t permit me to slip away.

His voice grew deeper and more serious than I had ever heard it before. “Why don’t you believe in me?” he asked. “I’ve come all this way for you, and now that I’m here sometimes I can’t tell if you even want me.”

My mouth hung open as I registered the statement. The impatient honking of the taxi’s horn interrupted our exchange. Duke’s eyes remained riveted on me, and it was I who looked away first. I said awkwardly, “We’d better get in or this guy’s gonna drive off without us.”

Clearly Duke was unhappy with the interruption, but he held the door for me as I scrambled into the backseat of the waiting car. It was a subdued ride back to the apartment house.

Chapter 17

It was late when we returned, but Carlita had left the living room lamp on for us. When Duke seemed as if he wanted to talk, I told him I was very tired and had a lot I needed to think over. That part at least was true, even if I had no idea of falling asleep for a very long time. I said goodnight to Duke and slipped into my room, ready to drag on my pajamas and fall into bed.

As I pulled off my lavender dress and threw it over the back of a chair, I felt a little like Cinderella must have after all the excitement of the ball was over—weary, depressed, and strangely let down. I avoided looking at the portrait standing on the easel and when my eyes swept over the bouquet of calla lilies in the windowsill, I quickly looked away again. The warm glow I had held onto all evening abandoned me now as I kicked off my shoes and stood in front of the mirror removing my hairpins.

A subtle knock sounded on the door just as I was hopping on one foot, peeling off my pantyhose.

“Who is it?” I called, cautiously scrambling out of my hose and pulling on my pajama pants just a second before the door swung inward.

“Relax. It’s just me,” Carlita said, entering. “How’d your date go?” There was no missing the disapproval in her tone, but at least she kept her voice low, aware of Duke settling down for the night in the next room.

I hesitated. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure that out.”

“Do tell,” Carlita sat down on the edge of the bed. “What did he do wrong this time?”

“He didn’t do anything exactly wrong.” I avoided my friend’s eyes. Taking up a comb from the dresser, I busied myself brushing the curls out of my hair. With my back to Carlita, I confessed, “He kind of…kissed me.”

“Shocking,” my friend said blandly. “Nobody does that on a date. But did he pull anymore of his psycho crap, pretending to be the character from the book? Surely you’ve made up your mind about him by now.”

“No,” I said, determination flaring suddenly within me. “I’m still not one hundred percent sure he’s the hero from the book. But I have made up my mind about something else.” I looked Carlita straight in the eye. “I’ve decided I don’t care who he is. He can be the duke or just plain Duke. It doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

Carlita looked troubled. “You’re falling for him,” she accused.

I stared. Was I? It all added up—the way I had glowed in his presence throughout the evening and the way I had responded to his kiss. Even this odd uncertainty that had descended on me ever since.
Was this what it felt like to be in love? Content one minute and vulnerable the next?

I laid down my comb. “I—I think I am,” I said quietly. As soon as I admitted it, I knew it was true. I couldn’t imagine what my life would be if I woke up tomorrow and suddenly Duke was no longer there. I’d meant what I’d told Carlita. I no longer cared if he was the character from some silly book or just himself. I loved him for who he was. Whoever that might be.

“You’re really sure about this, are you?” Carlita asked glumly.

“Yes.” I could think of nothing else to add to the simple statement.
All right, I can think of a million things, but none of them are stuff I want to say to Carlita
. Suddenly all I needed was to have a chance to talk to Duke alone. There was so much we had to explain to each other. More, I owed him an apology for the cold note I had ended the evening on. What if he was so hurt that he just up and disappeared back into the pages of his book again? Or wherever it was he had come from?

My confidence strengthening by the minute, I would have run to him right then and there had not Carlita, apparently reading my feelings, intervened. “Wait,” she said. “Before you go out and do anything rash, I think you’d better take a look at this first.”

She reached beneath her pajama top and pulled out an awkward package that had been hidden inside. “I had to sneak it past
him
,” she explained, nodding toward the door.

“Why so secretive?” I eyeballed the mysterious package. It was a clear plastic bag about the size of a sofa pillow with something that looked like a coil of dark cloth rolled up inside. Rags maybe?

Carlita said, “I’ve got a friend who’s a janitor down at the hospital where they were keeping your Duke. I asked him for a favor and he came through.”

“What do you mean?” A faint feeling of unease was beginning to impinge on my new joy—a shadowy premonition of something unpleasant to come.

My friend opened the plastic package and dumped it out on the bed. “These are the clothes Duke arrived at the hospital in. I remembered you saying his possessions had never turned up so I set my buddy to keeping an eye out for them. That was my errand tonight. And here they are.”

Nervously, I approached the bundle of clothing, much as I would have a coiled snake.

“Don’t just stand there,” Carlita challenged. “Dig in. Find your proof.”

Encouraged by my friend’s skeptical tone, I snatched the first item of clothing off the top of the heap and unrolled it. This was the long, dark coat I had first seen him in the day of the accident. Up close, I took in more of its details than I’d had attention to spare for then. It was nice fabric and expensive looking, but there was something odd about it.

“Nobody but Duke would wear an old-fashioned rag like that,” Carlita scoffed. “I can’t believe they even make stuff like that anymore.”

“Maybe,” I said significantly, “they don’t.”

She rolled her eyes but I plunged into the pile again, encouraged now by my success.

“Aha! What do you have to say to this, my doubting friend,” I demanded excitedly, holding up a black vest with a double row of buttons. “Not exactly the sort of thing your average modern day man wears about town.”

Carlita snorted. “Having bad taste in clothes doesn’t make him a nobleman from the past.”

But I thought a look of uncertainty was beginning to dawn in her eyes.

Quickly, I examined and set aside a pair of men’s trousers, also very old-fashioned in design. “And what do you think of this?” I triumphantly waved a pale, ruffled shirt. “You can’t tell me just everybody has a shirt like this hanging in their closet. Look at this stuff. It’s over a hundred years old. Or at least it is in our world. Where he came from it’s probably quite modern.”

I didn’t try to hide the relief in my voice. Not only did I finally understand my feelings for Duke, but the other pieces of the puzzle were all starting to come together. Even Carlita was beginning to look convinced, I thought, unable to hold in a giggle at my friend’s crestfallen expression. She had been so sure she was about to put an end to the game, and instead she had come up with the final proof I needed. My heart suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted from it.

And it was then that Carlita said, “Hey, what’s that?” She pointed to a tiny bit of white paper dangling by a string from the sleeve of Duke’s shirt. “It looks like a price tag or something.”

“It’s probably just a label the hospital staff pinned on to identify it,” I said lightly. But inside I had that odd premonition again. My hands trembled slightly as I caught the bit of paper in my palm and turned it over.

Carlita leaned forward to peer at the tag over my shoulder. “Artie’s Antiques,” she read aloud. “Twenty-eight twenty-nine West Broadway.” That was it. Two simple lines: a name and an address. And yet it was enough to send my whole dream castle tumbling down.

“It can’t be. It can’t be.” It took me a moment to realize the words were coming from me, and then I couldn’t seem to stop saying them over and over. At a loss for a more sensible response, I curled in on myself and forgot Carlita’s presence, forgot everything around me.

Scenes were playing through my head. Duke saying he knew the story of
Noble Hearts.
Duke describing the death of his father in the very same manner as
the
duke’s father had died in. But he would know that of course, because he had read the book. Just like he would know of the duke’s scholarly interests and a thousand other tiny facts he had dropped before me every day.

And I had eaten them up like a hungry pigeon devouring moldy bread. It wasn’t the revelation that he wasn’t really who I had convinced myself he was that was so troubling. I had meant it when I’d said I loved him whether he was the novel’s hero or not. It was the fact he must have known somehow of my obsession with the fictional character, and had intentionally misrepresented himself to me that was disturbing.

How could he know what it would mean to me to have the duke walk into my life at such a difficult time? And why should he have been willing to play the part? I didn’t know what he thought to gain, but the implication that he was willing to go so far to deceive me was chilling. Just who was this stranger I had thought I knew so well?

I became aware of Carlita sitting with an arm around me, rubbing my back. “It’s okay, sweetie,” Carlita was reassuring me soothingly. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll find out who this lunatic is and what he wants. Then we’ll send him packing. Or better yet, we’ll skip the question and answer session and just run him out now. I’ll do it. You don’t even have to see him again.”

“No, no.” I grabbed her arm, holding her in place. I dabbed at my cheeks, which I suddenly realized were damp. I felt like a fool crying over some man who had turned out to be a total stranger…A sneaky, lying stranger who had taken advantage of my overgrown imagination. Hurt and anger warred within me so that I didn’t know which force was the greater.

But I kept my voice steady and composed as I said very softly, “I will take care of this. I want to talk to him. I want to know why.”

Carlita took one look at the stony expression on my face and put up no argument. “Naturally,” she said. “And I’ll come along to back you up.”

“But not tonight,” I cut in. “I need time to get my thoughts in order. So much is happening so fast.” Had it been only a few hours ago that I had stood on the sidewalk in Duke’s arms thinking thoughts very similar to those? And now fate had taken me on another cruel rollercoaster ride.

I shook my head. “I want to sleep on it. I can’t face him like this. I’m so…I just don’t know what I’d say.”

“All right, you can sleep on it if you need to. But remember in the morning you’ve still got to get up and face him. It’ll only get harder if you put it off.”

I nodded. “Could you go now? I sort of want to be alone.”

After she left, I flicked off the light and curled up on my bed. But I didn’t go to sleep. I lay awake atop the covers, my eyes fixed on a silver beam of moonlight that slanted down through the window and fell across a square of partially painted canvas resting on my easel.