Never Too Late (18 page)

Early the next morning, Minnie handed her a note with the now-familiar D seal.

Dear Mrs. Duchamp,

My dearest friend (for even in our brief acquaintance, I already feel you are very dear to me), I am beside myself wondering how your cleaning and repair of the shop must be progressing by inches. It is surely too much of a burden for you alone. What are friends for, if not to aid one another in times like these? I do wish you would let the Devin family assist you; I feel it is reasonable and not at all boastful for me to say that we have abundant resources to put at your disposal. Without doubt, my son Alexander can handle the repairs and renovations quite efficiently.

I do not, however, wish to oppress you with well-meant charity. Instead, I have a proposition for you, one which would be a mutual act of kindness. I have decided to retire to Sharling Worth, a Devin property in the north country, because I find the city too hot and the crowds too pressing. It is a wonderful place—with a serene lake, lots of open space for walking and riding, and breathtaking gardens (which I can say because I have absolutely no hand in them—our gardeners are magicians!).

It would be a great honor if you could accompany me on holiday for a couple of weeks. As lovely as Sharling is, it can be rather . . . quiet . . . especially since none of my children will be accompanying me. You would love it there, I’m sure of it.

Please do consider joining me; I would be in your debt and I’m sure we would get along swimmingly.

Affectionately,
Lady Rose Devin

P.S. Honestly, my friend, when was the last time you had a holiday? You deserve one now more than ever.

As much as she genuinely liked Lady Devin—and she could easily see Rose quickly becoming her closest and dearest confidante—she could not afford to continue this acquaintance. Her involvement with the Devin family had already distracted her in so many terrible ways. If she hadn’t gone with them to the Exhibition, she wouldn’t be in the middle of this very literal mess. She could not quite bring herself to regret spending the night with Alex—Lord Devin, she corrected herself—but she had to close that short and chaotic chapter of her life and get back to business. She didn’t belong in their world, and she couldn’t ignore how her own was quickly crumbling.

Dear Lady Devin,

Your kind invitation touched me deeply. I regret to inform you that, given the needs of the shop, I cannot possibly travel with you. I have determined there is simply too much I need to do here. You must know, however, that I hold you in the highest regard and would certainly accompany you if circumstances were otherwise. You have been a true friend to me, and I will treasure your kindness always.

Cordially,
Mrs. Honoria Duchamp

She should have known her response would bring Lord Devin to her door yet again. She’d waited a few days to send her response. It took less than twenty-four hours from the time Minnie left to deliver her reply to Lady Devin for the news to travel to him and for him to appear.

“You need a holiday,” he said simply.

“You’re rabid. I can’t possibly go on holiday. I have far too much to do here. A holiday would delay the shop’s reopening. It requires far too much time and attention for me to up and abscond with the likes of you.”
Not to mention more money—and more of my heart—than I can spare.

“One point of fact—I have the resources at my disposal, and at your command, to continue the shop’s repairs without disruption.” When she opened her mouth to object, she was silenced by the devilish glint in his eye. “A second point of fact—I never said I would take you.”

“Oh. Why does this matter to you?”

“As my mother’s invitation surely made clear, she is planning a sojourn in our country home and wishes for your companionship.”

“Companionship, yes.”

“Yes, this was entirely her invitation. I have nothing to do with it. It would truly be an independent holiday. No dinner parties or social calls. You could go walking, or riding, or boating, or swimming, tasting a life of leisure. If you please, you could spend the entire time in the library reading.”

“Swimming?”

“Yes. That appeals to you? Our house is by a lake. My family has spent many a summer day boating, swimming, and fishing. Great fun. Just you and my mother. You would love it.”

“Your mother is quite lovely, but I simply cannot.” She paused as she shuffled some paperwork for no good reason. Then she forced herself to ask, “Does she know of what’s happened between us? I don’t think I could . . .” She trailed off, unable to voice how embarrassing it would be if Lady Devin knew of their transgression.

“I certainly have not told her. She is quite perceptive, though. She likely knows or at least suspects what is between us. After all, she has known me all my life. I think you will find she has rather progressive views, although she keeps her own counsel publicly. And she likes you.”

She considered it. She actually considered the indulgence of a holiday, the likes of which she only vaguely recalled from early childhood. But she had the Needlework for the Needy Association to consider. She was supposed to be the next host in just a few days’ time. And she’d already been derelict in her duties once because of Lord Devin. She kept trying to think of reasons to reject his offer, even as the child in her begged to go on holiday and the adult in her begged to return to Lord Devin’s arms. That he wouldn’t be there certainly helped alleviate her concerns about her own lack of control. And part of her desperately wanted to escape the world she was in.

Chapter Fourteen

Evans Principle XX: Everyone needs a holiday now and then, even you. Rejuvenation is good for business.

A
nd so, Honoria found herself floating in a lake, staring up at a robin’s egg sky, and occasionally wiggling her toes when tiny fish came near. She was still a bit confused as to how she ended up here at the Devin country home, Sharling Worth, enjoying an actual holiday, swimming in a large, clear lake.

Impressive as Devin House in London was, it was dwarfed by the grandeur and gravitas of Sharling Worth. Not only twice the size of the city dwelling, but generations older, Sharling Worth dominated its environment. Softly rolling hills fell away from it and a dense forest framed it from behind.

Like any good castle, it was guarded by what might as well be a dragon or at least the hound of hell. She hadn’t been in the front hall for more than a minute before she was bowled over by a massive wall of black fur with a whipping tail that could no doubt chop wood.

“Juno! Down! Out with you, girl!” A reedy woman dressed in serviceable gray serge was brushing her hands on her apron as she rushed in to grab the dog’s collar. The great she-beast managed a few sloppy licks of her face before being pulled away. Juno. The coincidence unnerved her. That was how Lord Devin had easily guessed Jupiter had a sibling Janus. Just as the thought occurred to her, she gave instructions to the butler to have the carrier containing the two felines taken directly to her room. When the pair returned home a few days after the break-in, they’d been filthy, thin, and skittish. No need to tempt the Fates by allowing these four-legged gods and goddesses to clash just yet.

She needn’t have bothered with such caution. At the earliest opportunity, the next morning, Juno snuck into her room—actually rooms. Such a luxurious surprise, not only a bedroom but a sunny and spacious sitting room with a view of the gardens behind the house and the forest in the distance. Jupiter, true to his name, had sprung out from behind the bed at first light. Janus stationed himself regally on one of the bed pillows. Juno had followed a maid delivering breakfast into the sitting room—and bolted into the bedroom when Nora emerged.

Immediately, the cats closed ranks on the bed, coming to its foot with their backs arched and tails high. Juno came right up and laid her head on the bed in front of them. Without moving, she sniffed at them curiously. Considering the large dog’s exuberance when she first arrived, she was stunned at such submissiveness. While Janus, ever suspicious of strangers, backed away watchfully, Jupiter simply touched Juno’s snout with her paw and then laid down close enough for Juno to nudge. Within a few moments, both felines were moving in step with their new canine friend. It was a miracle to behold. She couldn’t help but wonder what insight was there to be gleaned from such easy camaraderie among presumably natural enemies.

She hadn’t gone swimming since she was a child, but her body quickly recalled the movements, the sensation of propelling herself through the water like a snake. Only now, in a billowy bathing dress, she felt more like a floating mushroom than a snake. It was an uncharacteristic extravagance, this bathing dress she’d purchased only days before this holiday. But she was so taken with the promise of swimming that she probably would have paid twice the price for this ridiculously ugly and uncomfortable thing.

She’d been looking forward to the freedom of the water. But this monstrosity of fabric hindered every movement. No one was near. No one would see her. It took less than a minute for her to convince herself and start undoing the buttons on the front of the dress.

Well, this wouldn’t do. She now had the dress at least half off, but the buoyancy made it difficult for her to get the dress the rest of the way. It bunched and twisted at her waist and thighs.
Well, in for a penny
, she thought, and then she took a few deep breaths and dropped her head underwater, twisting and pushing and pulling to free herself. Just a little more. At some point, through the muffling water that filled her ears, she thought she heard a screech owl.

He saw her head go under, her arms and legs thrashing.
Oh, dear God, no.
He called her name as he ran, full speed, to the edge of the dock and dove in, fully clothed, Juno leaping in with him. He swam as quickly as he could toward her, but just before he could get to her, her head stabilized and she looked at him, shocked but clearly conscious. In fact, she looked disturbingly, furiously lucid.

“What on earth are you doing?” she nearly shouted, trying to avoid Juno’s splashing.

“I thought you were drowning! I thought to rescue you!” His emotions heightened, he realized his voice was probably a bit louder than it needed to be too.

“That’s ridiculous. Certainly not. I’m an excellent swimmer.”

He arched an eyebrow. She did seem to be keeping her head above water without any trouble, even with Juno circling her.

“Then what the hell were you doing?”

“I, uh, wanted more freedom of movement.” Her tone calmed, although her meaning was unclear.

“I see,” he replied noncommittally. And then suddenly he did see. Her bathing dress floated a few feet behind her. He wasn’t the only one who noticed. Juno made a beeline for what she surely thought was a new chew toy. And then Alex’s eyes caught sight of the curves of Nora’s body visible near the lake’s surface, bare and pale and lush. His throat seized.

“What are you doing here, anyway? You said you were to stay in the city,” she said accusingly.

Still distracted by the sight before him, he only managed, “I could not stay away.”

“I can understand why,” she said, unaware of the direction of his thoughts. “It’s been quite a long time since I’ve known the pleasures of the country. I used to love swimming as a child, but back then my father let me wear an undershirt and short pants. So I’m not used to being encumbered by so much ridiculous fabric. It was weighing me down severely.”

“I see.” It was all he could think to say. No other words came to mind. He hadn’t actually seen her in the dark. And he still couldn’t see much of her now, but, oh, how he wanted to.

“And so I took it off.”

He swallowed. “Yes, I can clearly see that.” Her face froze and he saw the dawning realization in her eyes—realization of what he was already achingly aware of. She was here treading water—clear, calm water—in the middle of the lake in nothing but her own skin. He decided her expression right then was priceless, and all too fleeting.

“Have you seen your mother?” Her arms slicing gracefully through the water as she increased the distance between them. “I hear your sister and her family are due to arrive any day now. You should help your mother prepare.”

“It had been quite some time since I had the pleasure of a swim myself,” he replied. “There is plenty of time for me to engage in familial obligations later.”

“Now what do you think you’re doing?” She eyed him skeptically as she kept trying to move farther away. He was the stronger swimmer by far. No matter how much she tried to put distance between them, he continued to close the gap.

“Making the most of the situation,” he replied.

“How do you figure we can manage to do anything and still stay afloat?”

That made him pause and tread water momentarily. She smiled. She couldn’t articulate what she felt, but some stronghold inside her had been opened, and she would not deny herself. Perhaps it was the setting—just the two of them alone in a primordial lake, as if no one else existed, as if time were inconsequential, as if they could do anything they wanted. It didn’t take him long to read her smile accurately if the hunger on his face were any indication, but it took him a bit longer to recover his voice.