Chapter 21

twenty-one

“ T here you are. Where did you disappear to yesterday?” Trudy heard Alex ask as he approached.

She was sitting in a wicker chair that she’d dragged to the farthest recesses of the front porch, away from every other chair and every conversation area, in the foolhardy hope that this remote corner might provide her with some much-desired privacy to read in peace. Yet somehow, even in this remote corner, she’d been discovered. Repeatedly. As if there was some sort of marquee over her head that stated in big, bold letters please bother this woman who is clearly seeking solitude.

Surely there must be some sort of sign because over the past hour, no less than a dozen guests had sought her out seeking free medical advice (an issue she intended to discuss with Mr. Plank ), and a dozen others had wandered over just to say hello because they were certain she must be lonely down here on the far end of the porch all by herself.

No amount of staring intently at her medical journal or limiting her discourse to monosyllabic responses seemed to give them the impression that she was, in fact, fine down here on the far end of the porch all by herself. In fact, it did not seem to occur to a single, solitary person that she was sitting down here on the far end of the porch all by herself specifically because she wanted to be sitting down here on the far end of the porch all by herself.

And now.

Here was Alex.

The last person she wanted to see.

She’d left the picnic early yesterday, slinking away and telling no one but Lucy that she was leaving. And today, she knew she had no justifiable reason for being irritable with him. It wasn’t his fault he’d borne witness to her humiliation at Breezy’s mean-spirited words. It wasn’t his fault he’d been next to her on the picnic blanket when her sisters had inadvertently made matters infinitely worse with their clumsy, shallow defense. And it wasn’t his fault that—apparently—his opinion of her had become the one she cared about the most.

But she was irritable with him. She was irritable with all of them. Sitting on that blanket, surrounded by her family and his, she’d become that awkward scrawny scarecrow all over again. The too-tall girl who meant well but just wasn’t like the others. Not in the ways that mattered to proper society. Not in the ways that allegedly gave her real value. Matrimony and motherhood.

Being around Chase and Jo hadn’t helped matters either. They were kind and wonderful, of course, but they were so much in love it only served to remind Trudy of the price she was paying for the choice she’d made. It was the right choice for her, of course, and she didn’t regret it, but still, the cost hadn’t seemed so high to her before.

“I… had some reading I wanted to finish,” Trudy responded curtly. “Still do.” She didn’t look at him. Just lifted her periodical and then lowered it back to her lap so she could continue (pretending) to read.

“Is that a medical journal?” he asked amiably in spite of her rudeness.

“Yes it’s a medical journal. I’m a doctor.”

He laughed at her jest but quieted quickly as he realized she hadn’t.

Gah! Shame on you, Gertrude.

Even Poppy wouldn’t pout this way, but Trudy was just now discovering an unfortunate truth about herself. Knowing that she was behaving childishly and being able to stop herself from behaving childishly were two very different things. So, she continued fake reading and said nothing.

After a moment, Alex turned and walked away.

Her remorse was instantaneous, and she even thought to call him back to apologize for her lack of civility, but the vulture of irascibility had her in its talons. As Alex disappeared through the lobby doors, she looked back down at her medical journal only to have the letters blur as a tear splashed upon the page.

She toyed idly for a moment with the idea of silently admonishing him. He certainly hadn’t tried very hard to cajole her into a better humor just now! But even in her peevish state, she knew she could not fault him.

From the corner of her eye, she saw someone else approach but kept her head dipped lest they see her silly tears. Then the figure pulled a chair up perpendicular to hers and sat down so they were facing her profile. And she recognized his shoes.

Alex’s shoes.

“Hello,” she murmured quietly.

“Hello. You seem rather cross this morning. Do you need a tonic or an elixir of some sort?”

“No. Thank you. I just need to finish reading this article.”

“Mm. What’s it about?”

She paused. “Enemas.”

“Ah. How moving.”

She pressed her lips together. Damn him . He was cajoling her, and it was working. He was going to make her laugh.

He’d brought a newspaper with him and proceeded to open and adjust it in the loudest manner possible, unfolding, refolding, rattling and fluffing it. He could have sung the news stories and made less of a racket.

“Are you being deliberately distracting with that newspaper, Mr. Bostwick?”

“Not especially. I can’t help that it’s windy out here on the porch.” He shook the paper wildly as if he was caught in a gale, and she could not prevent the chuff of laughter from escaping.

“What is wrong with you?” she murmured.

“So very many things, Dr. Hart. I would not know how to list it all. But you excel at lists. Shall we make one together?”

He shook the newspaper again, and when she finally smiled he remarked quietly, “Your aunt once suggested, to my face, no less, that she wasn’t safe standing next to me upon a staircase. The implication, of course, being?—”

“Yes. I understand the implication. You needn’t say it. I suppose accusing you of mariticide is more offensive than her saying I’d be a terrible mother.” She nodded in agreement. “But at least your family believes in you. Mine seems to think I’m unnatural.”

Alex laughed. “I don’t believe that’s accurate. If there’s anything unusual about you, it’s simply that you’re so capable and unflappable. Your drive and ambition do make you different, but in the most amazing ways.”

Her melancholy began to dissipate. Actually, it had begun to dissipate the moment he’d arrived on the porch. She just hadn’t been ready to let it go.

“And anyway,” Alex continued, “We all knew your aunt was just ornery because my mother outshone her with that business about the furniture.”

“Those women do seem to thrive on their discord.”

“That they do, but may I share a secret?’ He lowered his voice as he spoke.

“I should think the answer to that goes without saying.”

He smiled at her and looked around as if to impart the details of a great scandal.

“That custom designed Linke buffet my mother was crowing about? It was designed for someone else. The original buyer decided they wanted something less ostentatious so my mother accepted that buffet sight unseen simply because it could be shipped immediately. And,” he leaned closer to whisper in her ear, “my mother hates it.”

Trudy’s throat filled with laughter, and her mind filled with the recognition that his sense of humor was one of her favorite things about him. It was silly and irreverent, bordering on juvenile, but there were not many people in her life who could make her laugh, and even fewer who bothered to try.

“Is it awful that your mother disliking it amuses me so?”

“Not at all. I’d prefer you not divulge that story to your aunt, but at least you may smile every time you see that buffet.”

She closed her periodical. “I don’t imagine I’ll see it often.”

He shrugged and set his newspaper aside. “You may. When my mother moves into the cottage in a few weeks, Daisy will be going with her.”

“Oh. That… is rather disheartening. I rather like us all being neighbors on the third floor.”

Then a more disheartening thought occurred.

“Will you be moving to the cottage as well?”

“Not at first,” he answered.

Her relief was notable—which was probably something she should reflect upon later.

“Sometime this summer, perhaps?” she asked, wondering if her interest in where he slept boarded on inappropriate. Also, something to reflect upon later.

“Perhaps. I suppose it would be nice to see if moving to the cottage puts an end to Isabella’s sundries showing up in my pockets, but I don’t relish all those hours with just my mother and Daisy for company. Chase and Jo are determined to stay at the hotel for the foreseeable future.”

“What about after the baby is born?”

“I suppose they’ll decide that when the time comes. Jo and my mother are not overly fond of each other. Although you probably already knew that.”

“I had my suspicions.”

“Next summer though, your aunt will be in her cottage, and we’ll all be neighbors once more on the West Bluff.”

“I don’t know that I’ll ever come here again,” she said, more wistfully than she’d intended.

“Not to the Imperial Hotel?”

“Not to the island at all. Breezy invited us here this summer with the sole purpose of finding us husbands. A scheme I was not made aware of in advance, mind you, and one I do not endorse, in case that wasn’t made abundantly clear yesterday.”

“I did hear something to that effect,” Alex replied casually, stretching his arms over his head. “I just wasn’t sure if it was true or rather something Breezy spun from her own imagination.”

She paused before saying, “It’s true.”

Trudy had lost count of how many times over the years she’d explained to relatives, friends, even patients, why a nice gal such as herself remained unmarried, but this was the first time it left her feeling hollow instead of righteous.

Meanwhile, Alex frowned. Not in a condescending manner but he appeared perplexed, as if he was mulling this over in his head. Perhaps she was about to get the nice gal question from him.

“So, you’re saying you prefer scalpels over men?”

“You could say I prefer a sharp blade to a dull one, but yes,” she replied.

He took her jest in stride. Probably because there was nothing dull about Alexander Bostwick and well he knew it.

“The truth is,” Trudy continued, “I’ve worked incredibly hard to become a skilled physician. Practicing medicine is not just something I do to occupy my time. It’s an intrinsic part of who I am, and to give it up would be to lose a major part of myself.”

“Why would you have to give it up?”

“Because trying to be both a physician and a wife would mean I could not excel at either. And it’s not in my nature to be mediocre at something. I am competitive. Not just with my brother or with the Dr. Prescott’s of the world. I’m competitive with myself. I know if I cannot dedicate myself fully to something, then I’m left unsatisfied. Not to mention society’s view on the matter. I’d be seen as a negligent wife and mother. Even if I could accept that for myself, no man would want a wife whose attention was so often focused elsewhere.”

“I should think that would depend a great deal upon the man,” Alex replied. “Look at my brother. He fully supports Jo’s artistic endeavors.”

“And that’s commendable. However, they’re able to spend time together because she’s an artist and they share a workspace. My vocation has me seeing patients at all hours of the day, either at the clinic or their homes. It’s grueling and time consuming and it’s not something I could set aside just because my husband expects me to make sure dinner is on the table each evening.”

He contemplated this for a moment, then said, “The choice is yours, of course. If you decide not to marry because it’s your preference, then so be it. But given how progressive you are in the field of medicine, perhaps you could find a way to cast off those shackles of convention when it comes to being a wife as well. Who’s to say you cannot create a marriage where your medical aspirations don’t prevent you from also enjoying the benefits of matrimony?” He chuckled, almost as if to himself adding, “Although, I suppose if you are a truly modern woman, you might enjoy some of the especially pleasurable aspects matrimony… without the matrimony.”

Was he… referring to what she thought he was referring to? She was fairly certain he was. Her bemusement must have shown in her expression.

“My apologies. Have I offended you?” he asked while not appearing to be the least bit sorry.

“Of course not,” she replied too quickly, hoping to seem cosmopolitan rather than aghast. “I am well aware that some people engage in… sexual congress… outside the confines of a marriage.”

He chuckled at her choice of words, then said, “But… do you?”

She did gasp at this. Now she was aghast. “I beg your pardon?”

Once again, he did not seem the least bit sorry. “Do you partake in such activities?”

She blinked at him, momentarily rendered speechless.

His smile grew. “My apologies, once again. We’ve spoken in such frank detail about my life, it’s made me curious about yours.”

“And that was the first question you thought to ask?” she managed to reply. “Not, what’s your favorite color or … do you enjoy canoeing?”

“Well, I think the answer to my first question might make many of my other questions irrelevant. I thought you’d appreciate my expediency but if it makes you uncomfortable, don’t answer it.” He crossed his arms and leaned back farther in his chair, making himself more comfortable—and her less comfortable. Then he asked, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue,” she said warily.

“Do you enjoy canoeing?”

“Not especially,” she said cautiously.

“Would you like to partake in sexual congress with me?”

“Uh…”

His question hit her like an arrow to the chest, and the query seemed a trick, but his gaze locked with hers and held fast. All Trudy wanted was to look away, to calm the sudden raggedness of her heart’s rhythm, but she was paralyzed by his blunt words, his sapphire blue eyes, his illogical magnetism—and by her own overwhelming desire to say yes.

Yes, she would like that very much.

So much.

But she couldn’t.

Of course, she couldn’t.

And anyway, how dare he ask her such a thing! At ten o’clock on a Tuesday morning on the front porch of the Imperial Hotel. How dare he!

And… why did he?

She finally broke free of his gaze and looked down at her medical journal, although now all the words were darting to and fro like protozoa under a microscope. And she just might be a little light-headed. Where was that elixir he’d offered her earlier?

“I’ve heard you say it’s important to get your pulses racing at least once a day. For your health,” he said, the good-natured sarcasm evident in his tone.

She nearly smiled. Not so much because she was amused but rather because she was, quite possibly, on the verge of hysteria. Breathing was a chore. Her palms were moist, her mouth dry. She was quite taken aback.

And yet… oddly captivated.

Nonetheless, she tried to muster her sternest face as she looked at him once more.

“I meant that one should strive to get their pulses racing with a brisk walk or a swim in cool water,” she said. “Not…”

“Sexual congress?” he quipped, not modulating his voice in the least.

“Stop saying that,” she rasped, but the amusement in her own voice betrayed her. “You are shameful. Shame on you. Why would you even ask me such a thing?”

He quirked his brow. “I should think that much is obvious from the question itself. Although, I suppose it was unfair of me to ask.”

“You suppose?” He supposed?

“Yes, I should not have placed the onus on you to answer without first stating my opinion on the matter. Please note, I would very much like to engage in sexual congress with you. Without marriage.”

She paused for the space of a much-needed breath.

“How suave you are,” she said at last, mimicking his sarcasm. “What did you have for breakfast this morning, sir? A bottle of whiskey? Because surely you must be drunk.”

He laughed and shook his head. “No, not drunk. Just lowering my defenses as Miss Watson instructed me to do.”

“Now you’re taking advice from the spiritualists?”

“That and I recently had an earnest conversation with my brother which prompted me to reflect upon some things. I am attempting to view my world with a fresh perspective. And to…try new things.”

“I see,” she said with a nod, realizing she was one of those new things . “And was it your brother’s advice to accost me on the front porch and, without any illusion of seduction, ask me if I’d like to fornicate with you?”

Once again, she was trying to sound stern and bold, and yet her mouth very much wanted to smile.

And…

Her mouth very much wanted to kiss him.

Oh, my. How she wanted to kiss him.

She’d wanted to kiss him for days and days. Cursed biology . She’d wanted to run her hands over his physique and to touch him in all sorts of inappropriate ways. And she’d wondered how it would feel to have him do the same to her. (She’d wondered about this a great deal, in fact.)

She had scant knowledge of such things, of course. Her experience was limited to few clumsy pecks with a neighbor boy behind a barn when she was seventeen, some uninspired fondling with a classmate during medical school, and an awkward, sloppy encounter with a distant cousin under the mistletoe one Christmas that neither of them wanted to remember. That was the extent of it, and yet even in her na?veté she knew that Alexander Bostwick would not be clumsy or uninspiring or sloppy with his kisses.

But… he might be all of those things with her heart.

What in the devil’s name was he doing?

Alex had come looking for Trudy knowing how her aunt’s words had cut her to the quick. He’d been with her yesterday on that picnic blanket. He’d heard her quiet gasp at the insult and watched her posture change as she’d slowly hunched her shoulders as if to make herself smaller. He had felt her humiliation, and so had every person at that picnic.

Except for Breezy, of course. That woman just went on about her day as if she’d done nothing amiss. Alex had nearly confronted her for her abuse but knew it would only embarrass Trudy further.

Not long after the incident, Trudy had gone down to the water to sit with Jo. He’d thought to give her a moment to get her bearings, but the next time he looked for her, she was gone. He hadn’t seen her at dinner last evening, nor had she been in any of the places he thought he might find her.

He knew because he’d looked.

So, this morning, he’d begun the search again knowing he couldn’t rest until he’d made certain she was all right. He’d finally found her here on the porch, prickly as a porcupine and set about to cheer her spirits with his commiseration and foolish antics.

But he had absolutely…

Unequivocally…

Indisputably…

Not… intended to proposition her for intimacies as if she were some common doxie from a disreputable saloon. It was ungentlemanly behavior in the extreme to have even asked if that was something she indulged in, much less requesting she indulge in it with him!

And yet…

Trudy did not seem to be nearly as offended as she ought to be. In fact, he might go so far as to say there was a bit of mischievous sparkle in her eyes, and those dimples she got when she was trying not to smile were as deep as he’d ever seen. And suddenly Alex realized just how badly he wanted her to say yes.

Please say yes…

After his conversation with Chase, not to mention the prodding by Daisy and Miss Watson, Alex had done some introspection, and while he wasn’t yet ready to excuse his involvement in some of the unpleasant things that had happened, he was…tentatively…thinking it may be time to step out from behind the shadow of his guilt and back into the light of the living. Isabella might still be, somehow, tethering him to the past, but he was ready to turn his eyes toward the future. It was time.

And, he’d realized during his self-reflection, that none had been more instrumental in nudging him in that direction than Trudy. Everything about her inspired him to face whatever needed to be faced, and to do whatever needed to be done to move forward with his life with fearlessness and courage.

Even so, he hadn’t admitted to himself until just this very moment how much he wanted her to be a part of his future. He craved more from her than friendship. He wanted more than conversation and innuendo. He wanted… her.

But he hadn’t meant to be so… obvious.

What a cad!

At least she hadn’t rejected him outright.

Not yet anyway.

What had she said, exactly?

…without any illusion of seduction…

Was it possible she might consider him if only he would woo her a bit?

No, that couldn’t be right.

He was being far too optimistic.

Any moment now she’d launch from that chair, throw her cup of leftover tea in his face, and never speak to him again. It’s what he deserved. But she remained in place, gazing at him expectantly to respond to her volley.

And so, he did, in the same spirit in which he’d started.

“This was not my brother’s suggestion. The request is entirely of my own volition. And I did not say fornicate. That would have been impolite. As for seduction, I can do that.”

At his response, the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. As if a new thought had just now occurred to her.

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you? You’re making sport of my inexperience.”

Her sudden vulnerability pulled at his heart like a bell rope. He hated that the world made her feel odd compared to others when it was she who was remarkable. And he hated knowing he’d once made her doubt her beauty. He’d like to kick his ten-year-old self right in the ass because Trudy Hart was an extraordinary woman. He was blessed to call her a friend, and to call her something more would be a miracle.

He leaned forward in his chair. Reaching out, he touched her hand under the cover of her journal because a boisterous family was walking past in one direction, and a cluster of nannies was strolling by in the other, but the simple contact was electric. Her fingers wrapped around his and it could have been an embrace for the way it flooded his senses.

“The only one I’m teasing here is myself, Trudy, by allowing myself to hope you might want the same thing.”

She paused, and then said quietly, almost sadly, “To indulge in intimacy without affection?”

He squeezed her hand. “No, that’s not what I meant at all. I said without marriage, not without affection. Surely you know how fond of you I am.”

“No, I don’t know that.” At last, her irritation flared. “How would I know that?”

“If you don’t, then I must do my best to show you.”