Check out other parts of this story on my author’s page.

Max stretched his arms overhead and leaned back in the rocking chair. His feet, still in borrowed shoes, were up on the porch railing, slowly rocking the chair back and forth. Clem sat next to him, stitching a small piece of fabric he couldn’t imagine the use for. 

It was early, and mercifully, the porch was in the shade, but the air was already stifling. He had his sleeves rolled up and no coat, but the vest was mandatory. Clem had looked at him aghast when he came downstairs in just his shirtsleeves this morning. Sweat slid down his back, making his shirt cling to his skin.

Since his arrival, a cook had arrived at the house and a girl to clean. He sipped the lemonade she had brought him. If he could get used to the clothes and lack of air conditioning, it might not be so bad here.

He took another sip of his drink and glanced at Clem. She smiled at him and continued her tiny sewing. He could relax around her now that he had her figured out. 

It occurred to him after their walk in the park; Clem wanted to show all her stuck up friends she had a fiancé. Prove to everyone she wasn’t damaged goods. And he was happy to oblige. He didn’t mind being arm candy for a bit, especially if it came with a household staff and Clem’s mouth on his. 

Not that she had kissed him again in the days since their meeting in the library, but he assumed it was only a matter of time.

“What are you thinking about?”

He choked a little on his drink. How did she do that? “Nothing really. Why?”

“You’re looking awfully smug.” She narrowed her eyes. “Just wondering why.”

He rocked back in his chair and closed his eyes. “I was thinking that this is a nice set up you have here.” He could hear her shuffling things in her lap, rustling her skirts. She got restless when she lied. He knew that now.

“Yes, this is one of my favorite properties.” She didn’t like to talk about her houses or money or her father. These were things he had learned so far. But he didn’t need her to tell him how rich she was. He saw it all around. 

He only hoped she had enough stuff that she wouldn’t miss a few items here and there. The track was treating him kindly in this time. He had hit winner after winner since he’d been here. Now it was just a matter of how much he could take back with him. 

Last time he went to sleep in his sweats with nothing in his pockets but his father’s lucky penny. He still had the penny. It stood to reason if he filled his pockets with cash, it would come with him also. He could appear in his own time with enough money to pay all his debts and start fresh. If he could get there.

He ran a hand over his face. Thinking about how he got here and how he would get back gave him a headache. Maybe he would just stay. He glanced over at Clem again, and she was studying him with that shrewd look of hers. She was probably reading his mind right now.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” he asked. “More baths?”

Clem grimaced. “Not for me. I went with Mae yesterday, and my fingers are still pruney.” She held up her hands as evidence. Her fingers were long and slender, and Max remembered them running through his hair. 

“I was actually hoping you would come with me. I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Oh? More not-quite-friends of yours?”

“No. But my aunt is dying to meet you.”

***

Clem straightened his tie for the tenth time and pushed the hair off his face. He squirmed beneath her touch.

“Have I passed inspection yet?” he grumbled. 

She sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that my aunt is a very particular woman.” She straightened her hat and pulled up her gloves. Her corset was pulled too tight, and the backs of her knees were sweating. 

Max put a finger under her chin and lifted her face up to his. “Relax. What’s the big deal? I’m incredibly charming, remember?” He flashed his winning grin, and Clem did relax a little. He was definitely handsome, but her aunt wasn’t stupid. She would see through this whole charade. Unless Clem could get her hands on those papers. Then it wouldn’t matter what her aunt thought of Max.

“Your aunt is ready now, miss.” The nurse scurried down the stairs, a frightened little mouse. Max looked at her sideways as she ran by.

“I told you.”

“Come on, darling. Let’s go.” He took her hand and pulled her up the wide, curving staircase. She hated to admit that she felt better when he held onto her. She should not need a man to feel better. She needed that money.

Max knocked on the door, and her aunt called them in. She was propped up higher in bed today, her cheeks colored with a touch of pink. She pretended at life and vitality, but her hands shook, and her breath rattled in her throat. 

“So, this is him,” she said without preamble or greeting.

“Yes. Aunt Viola, this is Maxwell Bishop. Max, this is my aunt, Viola Prescott.”

Max strode forward and held out his hand. Viola drew back as though it may bite her, eyes wide. He pulled it away and tucked it in his pocket. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Viola’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure it is.” She continued to study him, and Clem felt the sweat roll between her breasts and trickle down her back. But Max stood tall under her aunt’s appraising gaze. He even flashed his dazzling grin. Viola was unmoved.

“And you’ve agreed to marry our Clementine?” her aunt asked when she was done with her bold inventory of Max.

“Of course.”

“And you’re aware of her various exploits?”

Max lifted a wry eyebrow at Clementine, and in her nervousness, she nearly laughed. “I’m aware.”

Her aunt gave a small noise of disapproval. “So, you’re after her father’s money, then?”

Clem felt the heat rise to her cheeks at her aunt’s insinuation. Nevermind that it was the exact thing that Clementine had assumed about Max. Was it so hard to believe that someone would want her?

Max rolled his shoulders back, filling more of the space beside her aunt’s bed. He took Clem’s hand in his and stared the old woman down. 

“Actually, I knew nothing about Clem’s family when I met her. But the moment I saw her, I knew I had to have her. I am only happy she agreed to marry me.” 

It was fake, an act he was putting on to help her out, but her stomach didn’t seem to know that. It flipped over at his words, and her foolish heart fluttered in her chest. How nice it would be if his words were true.

“Now, we really must be going. Come along, darling.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and steered her from the room. Her aunt was too shocked to protest.

“What a bitch,” he muttered as soon as they were out of earshot, and the hysterical laughter that had been building in Clem’s throat bubbled over. He smiled at her as they hurried down the front staircase. They paused at the bottom.

“Thank you for that.” Her heart still strummed loudly in her chest. It may have all been a lie, but he had done it for her. 

His grin was lopsided and mischievous, and she remembered the way his lips felt on hers. 

“Anytime. I love sticking it to mean old people.” He pushed a stray curl behind her ear, lingering a little too long, brushing his hand across her cheek. 

Clem cleared her throat, breaking the moment. 

“Right, well, should we go?” Max plowed ahead, pulling open the door into the heat of the day.

“I’ll be right there. I think I dropped a glove.”

Max shrugged and went out to wait for her on the porch. Clem took a quick look around and found no servants in sight. The dining room was back in order; her aunt’s papers no longer strewn across the table. She crept into the study. The walls were covered in old books. A large desk stood by the window, and Clem hurried to search the drawers. 

The first one uncovered nothing but her uncle’s old accounting papers. The second was a mess of rubber bands, racing stubs, and several half-empty cigar boxes. Her hand reached for the third.

“Can I help you with something, miss?”

Clem jerked upright, smoothing her skirts. “Oh…I…yes. I was looking for an old book of my uncle’s.” 

“Well, I don’t think you’ll find it in the desk,” the butler said with a meaningful glance.

Clem stepped away from the desk as though it were on fire. “Of course. It’s just…it was a very old book…I didn’t think it would be on the shelves.” She fixed her hat and pulled up her gloves. She couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting. 

“I assure you, miss. There is nothing for you in there.”

“Yes. Well. I will be going then.” Clem held her head high. She found righteous indignation was often enough to distract people from her lies.

“Your aunt asked I give you this before you leave.” He held out a folded piece of paper in his gloved hand. Clem took it and hurried out of the study, unfolding the page as she went. Her aunt’s signature lavender scent wafted from the page, and a large gold V graced the top.

Clementine,

I do not trust that man for an instant. I don’t know what games you are up to now, but if I get the slightest hint that your engagement is a farce, my money will go to my thoroughbreds. They are more respectful than you. 

Yours,

Aunt V.

Damn it. Clem crumpled the paper in her fist and stuffed it into a potted fern on her way out.