New York City, New York

1867

When Felix last saw Nora in England, she'd been standing in her bedchamber in a state of undress. 

Nora's aunt Lily and uncle Lewis had been hosting a dinner party. Naturally, Felix had arranged to be seated next to Nora, proper etiquette be damned. Much to his delight, the evening had been going swimmingly. He had laughed with Nora all through the salad and soup courses. But in the middle of the main course, Nora had exclaimed that she wasn't feeling well and darted from the table.

Felix had debated for a few minutes, and then—once again damning etiquette—rushed after her. His intentions had been pure, of course. Felix had merely intended to inquire if she was alright.

But when he knocked on her door, there'd been no reply. So he'd pushed it open and softly took a step inside to an almost laughable sight: Nora spinning around in circles as she attempted to single-handedly unlace her gown. It was almost like a dog chasing its own tail. In fact, Felix remembered Nora making a joke about her spaniel, Cooper.

Felix had offered her help. To do otherwise would have been rude. Well, actually, the gentlemanly thing to do would have been to ring for a maid to do it for her, but then Felix wasn't quite a gentleman. He'd undone the laces on her dress and then continued to do the same thing for her corset, which he understood was the problem as it restricted her airflow.

Felix had almost been able to hear the sigh of relief when he finally reached the end of her stays, and then Nora turned to face him. Only they hadn't accounted for who would continue to hold up her dress or corset, and both fell to the ground around her.

A gentleman would have shielded his eyes or picked up her gown to cover her, or at the very least, turned away. But Felix had just stared at the beautiful woman in front of him. Of course, she'd still been wearing her chemise, but it was thread-bare—the soft, gauzy fabric entirely translucent in front of the glow of the fire.

Nora hadn't done anything either, just looked at him with brightly dangerous eyes....not unlike what she was doing now as she sat across the table from him at dinner.

Except currently, they weren't alone. In fact, they were the farthest thing from alone. Nora's parents, Leo, and Oliver were watching the two of them like spies, well-trained in the art of flirting detection.

"Tell me, my lords," Mrs. Williams purred. "Do you intend to stay in New York for very long?"

"Uh," Felix began, unsure of how to answer. The length of their stay truly depended upon Nora. Felix desperately wanted to speak to her alone. She was so goddamn beautiful, her strawberry hair curling gently around that sweet face of hers as she watched him intently. The dress she was wearing flowed so gracefully about her that it reminded Felix of the sea, the color a deep green.

When Nora had walked into the foyer earlier, Felix had barely been able to form a coherent thought. And now sitting at the dinner table, he still was unable to. Luckily, Mrs. Williams cut Felix off, saving him from giving an answer.

"I do hope that you'll consider staying for the holiday. Christmas is a mere week away!"

Felix glanced at his uncle. He wasn't sure how long Leo wanted to be gone from the new publishing house. But the man didn't seem alarmed at the prospect of staying a week and replied in a friendly fashion to Mrs. Williams.

"We shall certainly consider the idea, Mrs. Williams. Thank you for your hospitality."

Felix directed his attention toward Nora's father, curious to his perspective on gaining houseguests. Mr. Williams had arrived just before dinner and appeared to be a reserved gentleman. He was intent on eating his food and didn't seem phased by the conversation in the slightest. Occasionally he would mumble to his business associate, the senior Mr. Rockwell, who had also come to dinner with his wife.

Of course, the reaction that Felix truly cared about was Nora's, but at best, she seemed unbothered. At worst, she seemed apprehensive.

Had Felix just imagined everything that had happened between them this summer? Did she really not feel about him the way that he did about her?

Dinner ended unceremoniously, and Nora, Mrs. Williams, and Mrs. Rockwell retreated back into the parlor to do lady things—whatever that entailed. Leo had become engaged in a rather lively business conversation with Mr. Williams and the senior Mr. Rockwell, and they were making their way to the library to continue it. So naturally that left Felix and Oliver, sitting awkwardly in the drawing-room.

"Would you like some port? Brandy?" Oliver offered, surveying the contents of the sideboard.

Felix observed the man quizzically. "You really do just make yourself at home here, don't you?"

Oliver shrugged. "Our families are very close." Then he swiveled to give Felix a pointed look. "Elinor and I are like siblings. Brandy?" he asked again.

Felix nodded and was surprised to feel himself relaxing as he took the glass from Oliver.

"Has an arrangement between the two of you ever even been considered?" Felix asked, wondering about the extent of the friendship between Oliver and Nora. He no longer felt worried about it like he had been upon reading Nora's letter, but his curiosity still simmered. Curiosity, jealousy. It was all the same, wasn't it?

"No, never," Oliver said.

"Your parents have never proposed it?"

Oliver shook his head, coming to sit down across from Felix in a plush armchair covered in floral designs. "Mrs. Williams has always hoped that Nora would marry up the societal ladder."

Felix nodded in understanding.

"And you?" Oliver piqued, observing him.

Felix decided to be blunt, sighing heavily. "Well, I was hoping to propose marriage."

"Capital," Oliver exclaimed, smiling.

"Nora seems distant, however," Felix lamented.

Oliver seemed to consider that as he drank from his glass.

"Elinor is merely protecting her heart," he said, finally. The American took another sip of his brandy, and then added, "But I don't think you're going to break it...are you?" He gave Felix a meaningful glance over the rim of his cup.

"Break her heart? I'm the one that's been pouring my feelings onto paper with little affection in return."

Oliver nodded, which Felix took to mean that the other man had read the correspondence, or at least been told about them. Felix should feel embarrassed, but the look on Oliver's face was almost reassuring. He knew. He understood.

"I told her she was being foolish, and yet secretly, I cannot blame the girl," Oliver admitted, making Felix frown.

"Why?"

"As I understand it, you are a...what do you English call it?" He stroked his chin thoughtfully, and Felix couldn't tell if he was sincere in his forgetfulness or just playing the part. If it was the latter, he was a cheeky bastard. "Ah! A rake. That's the word I was looking for."

Felix frowned deeper, and Oliver gave him a pointed look. "Well... aren't you? Do you or do you not frequently pursue ladies across that tiny country you call home?" One of his auburn eyebrows rose into his curly hair.

"I do not chase ladies across England," Felix grumbled.

"Oh," Oliver said, looking surprised. There was a bit of a challenge in his eyes as well. "So Elinor was not telling the truth."

Felix sighed deeply. "She was truthful in part."

"In part, you say. Did you only chase ladies halfway across the country? You were an unambitious rake then, I take it."

"No!" Felix threw his hands up in the air, beginning to feel irritated at Nora's friend. "I didn't chase any women across any part of England. Which, I might add, is not as small as you apparently believe it to be."

Oliver only shrugged, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips as he waited for Felix to explain further.

"Ladies tended to chase me," Felix finally admitted.

"Ah," Oliver replied, "You're one of those blokes. Regardless, I'm certain you didn't turn them away. You sent them letters, I'm sure. Arranged clandestine meetings?"

Felix considered that. "Some yes, some no, I suppose."

The Christmas tree in the corner suddenly caught his attention. It had very little decoration on it, and he searched its branches for the ornament he had sent Nora. It was nowhere to be found, and his heart sank just a little bit lower.

"And tell me about these women who you did not turn away," Oliver said, continuing their conversation over Felix's thoughts.

"Why?" Felix scowled at him.

"Just indulge me," Oliver persisted.

Felix sighed. "Some were debutantes. Daughters of dukes, earls, and the like. Those were usually just flirtations and harmless fun. I would never ruin a woman—I'm not that kind of rake. But some were widows, previously married to dukes, earls, and such."

"And after your arrangements or flirtations did you ever...marry these women? Or even offer marriage?"

"Of course not. That seems rather obvious, Mr. Rockwell. What are you playing at?"

Oliver ignored him. "And Elinor knows of all this, yes?"

"Yes, Elinor does," he bit out.

"So, you see!" Oliver threw his hands up.

"No I don't!" Felix mimicked the actions of the other man.

"You are nearly as dense as her, I swear. Truly, you both deserve each other," Oliver said, shaking his head. "Why should she assume that she is any different than those other women? Why should she believe that you will offer marriage when you didn't even do so to those proper, titled, Englishwomen?"

"Because I love her! I didn't love them. I didn't cross the bloody ocean for them!" Felix ran his hands rapidly through his hair, messing up the part he had made earlier,

"Yes, well, I know that," Oliver replied offhandedly. "But have you told her you love her and crossed the ocean for her? Have you mentioned marriage to her?"

Felix stared at him. "No."

"Well," Oliver said, clapping his hands and standing. He motioned for Felix to stand as well, and he obliged begrudgingly. "Off you go then," Oliver cheered. "She should be retiring soon, and her room is the second to the right of the stairs." And with that, Oliver pushed Felix out the door.