Chapter Nineteen
“What chapter?” Edmund asked, his voice reverberating against Abby’s back as she lay against him.
“Chapter Sixteen…something about Mr. Darcy being selfish—”
“Ah, yes, ‘I have been a selfish being all my life’…of course,” Edmund said. He then flipped to the exact page and started to read. Abby listened about the historical character Jane Austen created. She listened about Mr. Darcy being a spoiled child and how he’d been given principles, but had not been taught how to use them.
Then Edmund stopped reading, prompting Abby to question him on the passage. “Are you like him, Edmund?” she asked, turning so her cheek rested against Edmund’s upper chest. His heart thumped hard and steady, like an invigorating rain.
“I don’t know. My father was very strict, with little time to give me a lesson on any principles, good or bad.”
She smiled. “I think he’d be proud of you.”
He didn’t answer right away, as if he mulled over her words and struggled with their meaning. After a few minutes, she snuggled closer to him, taking his warmth and forgetting, for the time being, what they battled and almost surrendered. He continued to read to her, his rich, soothing voice rocking her to sleep.
What seemed like a second later, she jerked her lids open, finding the book closed, the pages he’d read lost inside. She lifted a glance upon his resting form, his beautiful head cocked at an uncomfortable angle.
Despite the danger, she placed a quiet kiss upon his lips. She didn’t regret that small piece of intimacy they’d shared earlier, despite his aversion to it. It seemed now, while she was willing to open her world to him, he had snapped his world shut.
As he let out a little snore, she backed off the bed, dressed back into her evening clothes and left. In the lobby, she called Tommy to pick her up, a task he jumped at in the early morning light.
“So…” Tommy said, trying to draw something out of her as he drove, almost running one traffic light and just missing three residential mailboxes, waiting for an answer.
Abby turned away toward the rising dawn, impressed by the cotton candy-colored clouds on the horizon. “He read Pride and Prejudice to me and then we fell asleep,” she confessed.
She twisted back toward Tommy in time to see him make a face. She held her breath until he shook his head and said nothing else, even while parking the truck, handing over her shoes and waving good-bye.
The next day came in like a wrecking ball, her head pounding from dehydration and her mind reeling from the memory of Edmund’s kisses and his adamant retreat from them.
Of course, she didn’t have time to think of what the night meant before she remembered the next phase in his quest to find a wife.
Sunday night began Kiss the Brides Week, with Will airing part of Jasmine’s date with Edmund and video footage of Private Party Dance Club Night on Monday afternoon. Because they wanted to do an elimination round on Friday, Courtney and Sierra had Edmund Monday night, followed by Gina Tuesday, Zella Wednesday and Abby Thursday night.
The entire thought of the other women becoming familiar with his tender lips put Abby’s stomach in full revolt. She had no doubt he’d enjoy every minute of it while she languished in jealous turmoil, alone.
Upon her bed, the night of his lips-locking episode with Jasmine, Abby fought to stay awake, afraid if she fell asleep, she might dream of Edmund, surrounded by aggressive women, him laughing and smiling as they flattered him with attention and overzealous caresses. As life would have it, she lost the battle of staying awake, slipping into a dream about bagels and English gardens, only to be yanked awake by the sound of her phone jiggling on her nightstand. In the darkness, she felt for the device, checking the illuminated number through scrunched eyelids.
Edmund.
“Hello.”
“Are you awake, Abby?” His bass voice comforted her immediately.
She smiled. “Hmmm, I wasn’t ten seconds ago.”
“Good, then you’re awake.”
There was silence as she switched the phone from her left ear to her right. “So…how was your date with Jasmine?” Unsure why he was calling, she’d asked the inevitable, wincing at her inability to keep her mouth shut.
“Interesting, actually.” Then he said nothing else. Abby pictured him lying upon his bed, his shirt unbuttoned to his stomach, one hand tucked behind his head.
“That’s…good.”
“Yes. Halfway through our dinner, her psychiatrist popped in, and after some appalling acting on both their parts, we all ended up in a therapy session together.”
Abby repressed a giggle. “You don’t say?”
“I do say. Apparently, I’m holding some repressed feelings about my dear mother.”
Abby closed her eyes, hypnotized by his soothing voice. “Are you?”
“I don’t know. She paddled my bum when I was three for peeing in her flower garden, but looking back, I can’t say I blame her.”
This time, Abby was unable to suppress her laughter. “You peed in her flower garden?”
“That’s right. And you were probably the perfect little angel as a child.”
“Yes, I was.”
“Abby,” he said in a teasing tone.
She wrinkled her nose and puffed out her cheeks. “Okay, but I was an innocent victim, led to believe that a tiny bit of special powder in my father’s pipe would make him stop smoking.”
“Oh dear God, you didn’t?”
“Well, Zella was very convincing.” She paused to reminisce over her father’s forgiving reaction. “You know, it took six months for his eyebrows to grow back.”
She laughed and then quieted, still missing her father very much. Always patient and understanding, so willing to give her guidance whenever she felt lost and didn’t know which way to turn next.
“Well, if it means anything, he was very fortunate to have a daughter to care so much for him.”
Abby smiled, elated from their conversation. “You can be so charming when you want, Edmund.”
He smiled. “On that note, I will bid you good night.”
Abby hung up with Edmund, his phone call and heavenly voice putting her at ease about where she stood in their rather unusual relationship. The next day, she began the day with a spring in her step. Even Raify, who dropped by for tea, noticed.
“Yes, you are definitely glowing. And, I must say, it looks very well on you.” Still Abby didn’t want to believe a man was the cause of her rosy complexion, especially a man she was never supposed to be dating in the first place.
“I’m using a new cleanser,” she lied.
“Of course you are, dear. And I believe the change in wardrobe suits you as well.”
Warmth filled Abby’s face, wondering if her metamorphosing had more to do with Edmund than she wanted to admit. She’d started to wear more fashionable skirts, going so far as to retire a few pairs of her well-worn jeans.
“Raify?”
“Yes, dear.”
“Do you like Edmund?”
The woman’s bright eyes twinkled below her bird nest straw hat. “The question is, do you like him?”
Abby sighed, puffing out her cheeks in animated frustration. Leave it to Raify not to give her a straight answer.
Then, with a crafty wink, Raify flitted out of the store, leaving Abby to close the place by herself. Before going to bed, she tried reading Jane Eyre, but the words didn’t grasp her attention as when Edmund read to her. Although Mr. Rochester challenged poor Miss Eyre regarding her feelings toward him, Abby had to wonder, between her and Edmund, if she, like Jane, felt jealousy. If she did, did this mean she was falling in love with him? The revelation kept her awake for a long time.
When at last she’d drifted to sleep, the vibrating tone of her phone jerked her back awake. She didn’t have to look to see who was calling her.
“Are you awake, Abby?”
That voice. That soothing, velvety voice caused her body to shiver with such pleasure she wanted to give in to the fairy tale that was Lord Edmund Rushwood.
She smiled dreamily. “Yes, Edmund, I’m awake.” She lay back and closed her eyes, pretending his words were not filtered through an electronic device. “How were your dates?”
“Eventful.”
She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “Oh, that’s good.”
“Courtney’s an Aquarius, you know?”
Now Abby wanted to hang up. “No, I didn’t.”
“She loves sushi and kisses like a fish.”
“I don’t think—”
“It was most unpleasant.”
Abby rejoiced.
“Did I mention she has webbed feet? Which might explain her kissing like a fish.”
Abby waffled on her reply. “Maybe she’s a mermaid.”
“No, after the pool incident, I can safely say, she is not a mermaid.”
That is all he said, leaving her dangling in the middle of their discussion. She waited for a few quiet moments, snuggling deeper into her pillow. “You’re going to make me beg for an explanation, aren’t you?”
“A ‘please, Edmund’ will suffice.”
She lowered her voice, and in a breathless and sultry tone, said the words he wanted to hear. The phone went silent, so silent, in fact, that Abby thought he’d hung up. She started to say his name again, but he cleared his throat and began talking.
“Right. Well, where were we?”
“The pool incident.”
“Yes, of course.” Abby knew he was smiling on the other end of the phone. “She indulged herself with four mai tais and two Long Island iced teas, and then flung her pumps into the air, smacking Will square in the forehead.”
Abby clamped her hand over her mouth, delighted in the image Edmund had given her. “Poor Will,” Abby said, smiling.
“Yes, the cut protrudes further than the scar on his other side, so he looks a bit ridiculous now.”
Abby closed her eyes for a brief moment, remembering how the man received his other scar. “Then what happened,” she coaxed Edmund to continue.
“Well, she leaped into an indoor wading pool and began stripping.”
“Oh.”
“So, you see, this is how I know she’s not a mermaid.”
Amused, Abby closed her eyes, trying not to fall any farther under Edmund’s charms. She thought it was too late to try, however.
“So, how was your date with Sierra?”
Dead silence forced her to bring the phone away from her ear to see if the call had been dropped. “Edmund? Do you want to talk about it?”
Please say no. Please say no.
“Not particularly.”
Damn. “Was it that bad?”
She imagined him pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “No. Sierra is an intriguing girl with an eccentric personality. She is conscious about the environment and saves animals in her spare time.”
“She sounds perfect.”
He didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes.”
Abby’s elation over the events of the last few days plummeted. “Well, this has been an insightful conversation. Good night, Edmund.”
“Good—”
She clicked the phone dead before he finished the word. Then she lay awake, staring at the shadowed ceiling, one warm tear, and then another slipping down to wet the hair at her temples. She vowed she’d not answer the phone when he called again. The next night, her vow remained intact since her phone lay as quiet as a stone under water.
That next evening, she was asked to host the patients from Lilly Ridge. She agreed, thinking it would be a good distraction, welcoming Molly, Paul, and the others with a painted-on smile. She wished she had thought longer about asking them to come, since she’d departed for brief moments several times since their arrival to dry her misty eyes. As much as she loved these nights, she couldn’t wait to get through this one and be alone.
Of course, Kendra chose this particular evening to use her key to waltz inside, her nose twisted into a disgusted pose. “How do you expect to keep this place when you use it as an old folks’ home?”
Not in the mood to argue, Abby stayed close to her cash register. “What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything, Abs. I just thought I’d stop by to see if you plan to watch Edmund’s date with Zella. They’re filming it live via the internet, you know?”
“No, I didn’t and I’m a little busy right now.”
Kendra stuck out her lips and crooned like a pet owner to her beloved pet. “That’s too bad. Oh, by the way, when Edmund marries my daughter, I plan on buying you out and using some of his money to turn this shop into a nail salon.”
Abby just stood there, blinking at Kendra, words of retaliation stuck deep in her throat. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, let the vile woman close down her father and mother’s memory.
“Well, anyway. If you get too desperate, you can always sell those paintings. They’re worth a lot more than this entire place.”
Abby turned away, allowing Kendra to depart without any acknowledgement.
“She’s full of spit,” Molly said, next to her elbow. Abby smiled and placed a comforting arm around her friend. If she ever had to close her father’s doors, she had to find another way to work with couples like Molly and Paul. As devastating as Alzheimer’s was to a person, she thought she could find a way to give them tiny moments of joy.
At last, with her emotions spent, Abby waved to her guests and to Tommy, shaking her head for him to keep his distance. He knew her well enough to allow her to make her own mistakes in life.
After cleaning up the shop and indulging in a long, toe-wrinkling bath, she crawled into bed and stared at the angled ceiling. Every second that ticked by, she waited for the phone to ring, for Edmund to tell her he was having a horrible time and that she was the only woman he wanted.
Only the phone didn’t ring and her fantasy of fitting into his world fell into a thick hole of darkness. She sulked in self-pity until a vibrating ring broke the dismal abyss of silence, and her hand trembled, reaching toward the nightstand to answer it.
“Abby, are you awake?”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
His voice hardened in a matter of seconds. “Why, are you with someone?”
“What? No, I’m not with someone. It’s two in the morning and I haven’t slept in two days.”
“Why haven’t you slept in two days, Abby?” The sound of her name on his lips and the seductive tone in his voice caused her to bite back a groan.
“Because.” She released a long sigh. “Why are you calling?” She waited for him to answer, believing he had possibly hung up. Before she could pull the phone away from her ear, the buzzer from downstairs blared next to her bed.
“Abby.”