Page 5 of Eternal Love (Timeless Duet #1)

F ive Days Later

“Your breakfast, madam,” Theodore said, serving her a plate of food that smelled divine. Avocado with eggs on toast and a side of ketchup. She’d taught him well. He’d even figured out the coffee machine, after poring over the instructions, making her a latte.

“You’re my hero.” She grinned, tucking in.

The past five days had been so much fun.

They’d gotten so much more done than she’d anticipated, and all the rooms that could be de-cluttered and decorated downstairs had been done.

They’d spent that time laughing and chatting, and she found herself craving his company.

He’d kept a respectful distance, but she wanted him to reach out and touch her.

Their fingers hadn’t so much as even brushed together accidentally.

“So, I actually have something to show you,” he said.

He still wore his suits. Even when painting. It made her wonder if he had any other clothes. Who only wears suits these days? What did he wear to bed? No. That is not a thought that should be in her head. She shooed it away like a naughty cat.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

He smiled. “Follow me,” he said, leading her up to the first floor.

He opened the door to the library and a gasp stuck in her throat.

It was transformed. Truly and completely transformed.

It was one of the most intimidating parts of renovating the house.

The oval room had been beautiful, full of potential, but the last time she’d seen it, it had been a wreck.

Buckets had littered the corners of the room, each catching water dripping from a leak in the ceiling.

There were dodgy patch repairs everywhere, the parquet floor was dull, and the only good thing about it were the books and shelves, although they had needed one heck of a deep clean.

Now pine green walls greeted her, all evidence of any patch repairs gone.

The floor gleamed so shiningly that she could eat her dinner from it.

All the musty, moldy furniture was gone.

A few armchairs had been moved from downstairs and placed by the window.

The shelves had been cleaned, allowing the deep wood to come through again, and she could’ve sworn that the room felt lighter, happier, such that the books would be proud to call this space their home.

When she didn’t speak, he ran his hands anxiously through his hair.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted.

I can easily strip it back to how it was.

Only ... it was a lot of work, and I wanted to surprise you.

You mentioned how much you loved books and how you used to own a bookshop. ..”

She stopped him. She couldn’t stand to see him nervous any longer. Before she could think twice, she threw her arms around him, going up to her tiptoes to get a better reach.

“It’s perfect. Thank you,” she said, her chin hanging over his shoulder. His arms hung loosely at his sides.

Oh God, I’ve pushed him too far . She made to let go, but his arms slowly, carefully wrapped around her. Her heartbeat thumped in her ears. Calm down, Julia, she scolded herself. It’s just an embrace, you can’t even feel his heart, he’s clearly not freaking out .

But then she heard his sharp intake of breath, felt the way his nose dipped into her neck, breathing in her scent like someone who had been starved of close contact.

She stiffened. He seemed to take that as a cue to back away, when that was the exact opposite of what she wanted. She wanted him closer.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“No, no, that’s ... there’s nothing to be sorry for. I was the one who threw myself at you.”

His gaze lingered on her, and there was something burning in it. Then he gave a casual small smile. “Anytime.”

“Careful, I might hold you to that,” she muttered with a smile, looking around the library. Her library. That the man by her side had transformed for her because she’d mentioned that she liked books.

Julia walked over to the shelves. She had many of her own books to fill them, but she loved that there were some left over from previous owners, with worn spines and fading golden lettering.

If only books could talk, she was sure they would have something to say about the past owners and guests of the manor.

She trailed her fingers along the spines and couldn’t help but grin.

“You know, I think this deserves a reward. Take the rest of the day off, you’ve been working so hard. I’m sure your family would love to see you.”

He cleared his throat. “I’ve lost my family,” he said. “It’s just me.”

A sinking feeling appeared in the pit of her stomach. That’s what he meant by them moving on. She just thought he meant they lived somewhere else. Dead parents, they had that in common. She reached for his arm and gave it a light squeeze. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”

“Thank you. I’ve always had a small family, and over the years I lost my parents and three siblings to illness and accidents.”

She was quiet for a moment, struggling to find the words. He seemed to sense it. “It’s all right,” he assured her. “It was a while ago now.” He placed his hand over hers, the one she still rested on his arm.

She swallowed and tried to smile brightly. “Well, you still need a reward!”

“Spending time with you is reward enough,” he said, reaching out to tuck a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. Her cheeks burned and her heart soared at the gesture.

“Okay, well then, how about we go out into the village, and I’ll buy you some new clothes. You can’t keep wearing suits, you know, they’ll get ruined. Besides, you’re showing me up dressing so fancy all the time.”

She made her way to the door, expecting to see him following, when she threw a look back over her shoulder. But he was standing with his arms tight at his sides, his fists clenching and unclenching.

“No.”

“N-No?” she stammered at his tone.

When his eyes met hers, they sparkled with annoyance. “No, I’m not going into the village, and you shouldn’t either.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You shouldn’t go into the village. Things aren’t what they seem. Everyone is so old-fashioned here and you should be careful. I don’t set foot in the village anymore.”

“Who are you to tell me what to do?”

“I’m not telling you what to do, but you should listen to me.”

“Suit yourself, but I’m going out, and I might even have a drink while I’m there.”

Julia hated being ordered around, and that’s what this felt close to.

No, she wouldn’t have it. Besides, her pride was stung.

Since when did he have the right to be so rude to her, to turn down her offer?

He said he wanted to spend time with her, didn’t he?

Then why didn’t he want to go out with her?

To be seen in public? These questions swarmed in her mind like bees, buzzing and relentless.

Fuck it, she would go out. She’d go shopping, spend her hard-earned money on herself, and then maybe go to the pub for a drink.

She needed alcohol right about now. Her mind set, she went to her room, had a quick shower and changed into a long-sleeved winter mauve dress and knee-high boots.

She made sure to wiggle just a little too much on her way past Theodore, who she noticed, smugly, seemed to be fighting the losing battle of ignoring her.

She smirked, then promptly tripped on the threadbare rug in the hall, because of course she did.

At least he wasn’t around to see that one.

She was mad at him, and seeing his smile, hearing his laugh, was sure to put a smile on her face that she didn’t want there just yet.

The front door clicked and heaved open. The sunlight warmed her face, and she was almost tricked into thinking she was back home.

Almost. Then a cold burst of wind sliced through the air.

She took a deep inhale, and began her walk into the village.

****

O kay, so maybe clothes shopping was a bit too ambitious.

The most this village had to offer were a few hats and a raincoat.

She scrunched her nose, thumbing the thin, cheap material.

She could almost hear Camilla’s voice sing through her mind, “Ew, I wouldn’t even deign to blow my nose on it. ” Camilla could be such a snob.

Julia sighed and glanced down at her phone.

Five o’clock. Well, she could head to the pub, get a drink and then go home.

If she were honest with herself, she was only getting this drink as a middle finger to Theodore.

She was sick of all the looks she was getting.

She may as well have had a sign hung around her neck that read Outsider: Proceed with Caution .

She left the shop, stepping out into the chill.

The pub was about a minute’s walk. It was like whomever had designed this place had decided to smush everything together, like a model village.

The pub, King’s Head, was quaint, exactly what New Yorkers seek when they come to England in search of tradition.

It was stone, with a thatched roof and a swinging sign with—no surprises—a king’s head on, looking down in judgment at all who passed.

The door creaked open, and she headed straight for a table in the corner, rubbing her hands together for warmth while she scanned the menu.

It’s all in your head, Julia, the room didn’t get quieter just because you walked in.

The pub was tiny, with a bar area guarded by an extremely frustrated-looking woman with graying brown hair piled atop her head.

Men and women of various ages were dotted around in their preferred drinking spots.

She would order a drink and leave. She swallowed, heading for the bar.

Suddenly she didn’t feel all that much like drinking.

“Just a ginger beer, please,” she told the woman.

The sound of her voice was like a beacon, calling all eyes to her.

“Not from around here, are you?”

She chuckled lightly. “What gave me away?”

The woman didn’t take it as intended. “Your accent,” she said, deadpan, placing the drink in front of her.

“Right,” Julia replied, elongating the word. She took the beer and pushed a note toward her.

“Don’t mind my wife,” said a man coming up behind the bar. “You’ve bought the manor, is that right?”

“Yes,” she said, beaming. Finally, someone normal.

The man’s smile crinkled. “Lovely. It’s great that someone bought it, that place has been sitting empty for too long.”

Julia opened her mouth to respond, but a voice piped up from down the other end of the bar, “Just don’t go changing it into flats now. I know what you youngsters are like.”

She cleared her throat and addressed the man, “Wouldn’t dream of it.

” She flashed him a smile and took a few swigs of her drink.

Luckily, that seemed to perk everyone up to no end, and she ended up killing an hour or two, making small talk about her plans for the manor.

She learned a few names, and that everyone, literally everyone, had lived in the village their entire lives.

By the end of the evening, most seemed to accept her. One of us, one of us, one of us.

Her thoughts had begun drifting to Theodore and how wrong he was about the village.

Sure, they seemed set in their ways, but (minus the initial looks) they’d been nice to her and seemed genuinely happy she was taking over the manor.

She rose, said her goodbyes, and began the short walk home.

She had just put her key in the lock when the door flew open so violently she worried it would be ripped from its hinges.

“Careful, don’t hurt the old girl—”

Her joke stopped in its tracks when she caught sight of Theodore, wild eyes, curls askew, no suit jacket, just his white shirt clinging to him like smoke. And pacing. So much pacing.

“What’s wrong?” Her question came out as a whisper, falling into the room and settling like snow.

“What’s wrong?” He continued pacing, running his hand through his hair. “I was worried, I thought you were only going to be out for ... and I was trying to work out how I could come and...”

He seemed to be warring with himself, with two different strands of conversation.

She just wanted to wipe the worry from him.

That’s why she did it—stood on her tiptoes in front of him and raised her face to brush her lips against his.

His eyes widened at the contact, and she began to step back, a smug smile playing on her lips that she’d managed to tame him, when he crashed into her at full force, slamming her back against the wall and seizing her mouth for his own.