In Love with a Gentleman (14 page)

“Why?”

“One of Theo’s classmates is celebrating his birthday tomorrow. His parents live in a converted barn near Cambridge. We can go if you’d like.”

Hurray! Boy, do I ever
! I think, but I say, “I would love to.”

“Okay,” Ethan says. “I’ll pick you up here tomorrow, same time as today.”

I screw up my courage and ask, “What about tomorrow morning? Can we do something together in Cambridge?”

“No, that won’t work,” Ethan says. “Theo and I are going hunting very early in the morning. Actually, that’s the main reason I came up here to begin with.”

A lightbulb goes off in my mind. The long piece of luggage in the trunk was a rifle! I now hold Ethan in even higher esteem. He’s a hunter! How cool is that? It goes perfectly with my image of him—the quiet, elegant English gentleman who passes the time by going hunting.
Mr. Darcy sends his regards
, I think to myself.

Oh well, I’ll have to go to Cambridge by myself tomorrow. I hope Ethan’s a little sorry that he has a previous engagement, too. It suddenly occurs to me that the day after tomorrow, I’ll have to head home. Of course, I could find a bed-and-breakfast, but that would be prohibitively expensive. Should I tell Ethan? Maybe he’ll change his plans if he knows I have to leave. No, it would seem a bit undignified, as if I were begging for his attention. I say nothing.

“Well, then, Lea,” Ethan says, “see you tomorrow. Have a good night.” He leans over and kisses me lightly on the cheek. It could mean anything: we belong together now, you and I, or it was a nice kiss earlier, but as it turns out, there was nothing to it, or I often kiss girls on impulse. I hope it means the first one.

I say good night and walk toward the house. I search for and find the key that Emmy hid for me and step inside the cold, dark house. As soon as I close the front door, I hear Ethan’s car zoom off in the distance. How happy I would be sitting next to him in that car! But, no, I lie down on my stiff, cold bed in the dark broom closet, huddling with my hot-water bottle. What did Ethan mean about my lightheartedness and my laughter? Does he like it when I laugh or not? Should I try to be more grown-up and serious to be a better match for him? Are the wives of English gentlemen the type who spend their leisure time hunting? Do they laugh a lot or not so much? How do they act in the English novels I love so much? Does Elizabeth Bennet laugh much? Yes, she does. Hmm.

I stay awake for a long time.

Chapter 7

The next morning I wake up with a headache. The pillow on this dreadful bed is too flat and hurts my neck. I rub my neck, wondering what the day will bring. One thing is clear: I’ve got no time to lose. I’ve got to accomplish an important task: I must find a new outfit. Because Ethan doesn’t like it, repairing the Laura Ashley dress would make no sense, even if I could find a sewing kit in this chaotic house.

My head pounding, I drag myself into the empty kitchen. Are my roommates asleep, or are they already out? I prepare some breakfast and a cup of instant coffee. As I spoon my Weetabix, I consider whether the state of my finances will allow me to buy a new dress and some new shoes. After those purchases, the chances of extending my stay in Cambridge are nil.
Well, it would definitely be a worthwhile investment. I intend to transform myself into a seductive-looking woman. Ethan’s jaw will drop when he sees me tonight. What did he say? Fragments of what he said buzz around in my head. Didn’t he say something like “No Catholic schoolgirl clothes . . . something sexy . . . not so buttoned-up . . . flats are stupid . . . let your hair down”? I can make myself look sexy. I’ve done it many times in the past. Ethan should remember that yesterday I dressed conservatively to fit in with the distinguished style of the colleges.
And I did
, I think rebelliously. If I had gone with the look I’m planning for tonight, the venerable professors would have toppled from the high table by the dozens.

I wander into the city on foot, my purse under my arm. The weather is wonderful again, with the type of deep-blue sky only seen in northern Europe in the spring or fall. It spans the distant towers of the medieval city. Bright leaves fall gently, whirling in the quiet morning air and rustling beneath my feet. This must be perfect hunting weather, and I’m happy for Ethan. Although my head still hurts, when I think of Ethan and last night’s passionate kisses, I practically float above the sidewalk.

When I reach the city center, I look wistfully at the beautiful old buildings reflected in the River Cam. I’d intended to see more of them and the old town. I hear there’s a fantastic collection of ancient Roman sculptures at one of the colleges . . . Well, if my life goes the way I dream it will, this won’t be the last time I’m in Cambridge. Then I can make up for lost time. I head, with determination, to the modern part of the city, which is filled with appropriately trendy clothing stores.

After three hours, my feet as well as my head hurt. It took a long time to find what I was looking for: a superchic red dress with a plunging neckline—so low cut that I had to buy a new lacy black bra, and so short that I also had to purchase matching panties. After a long search, I also found a pair of high heels in the same shade of red. Then I treated myself to a break at a salon. Although I didn’t need a hair cut, I wanted a deep-conditioning treatment so my hair shimmers and shines.

When I’m finally done with everything, I look for a place to grab a quick bite to eat, my stomach growling mercilessly. The nice café where I went with Jens comes to mind. If I remember correctly, they have a nice selection of magazines lying around, so I could rest there, have something to eat, and read. After all, I’m going to have to stuff my weary feet into some very uncomfortable high heels again tonight.

I’m happy to see that the same table where Jens and I ate yesterday morning is vacant. I sigh as I settle into a chair and stretch out my legs. Heavenly! The waitress recognizes me and greets me amiably, almost as if I were a regular. She brings me a cup of coffee and a large piece of freshly baked quiche, hot from the oven. Like yesterday, I enjoy watching the passersby while I eat.
All that’s missing is someone I can chat with
, I think. It was fun sitting here with Jens and talking. I make a mental note to come here with Ethan sometime.

How is Ethan doing on his hunting expedition, anyway? Has he bagged a few prey, maybe a few pheasants or partridges? What does he do with them? Would a good wife need to pluck and grill them? More importantly, has he thought of me this morning? Is he looking forward to tonight? I’m so excited. Now that I have a great outfit, I can hardly wait for the hours to pass until he picks me up for the party.

I order a piece of apple pie and a pot of tea, and after some time, I’ve perused nearly all the magazines. As the shadows gradually lengthen, I pay, gather my many bags, and start my long walk toward Somerset Close. I plan to take a little beauty nap on the narrow bed, then lock myself up in the bathroom and shower in the tub, crouched under the handheld showerhead while trying my best to avoid the gray ring of dirt that has accumulated over a thousand sloppy baths. If Ethan and I ever get married, I swear I’ll install a really nice shower in our house—the same one that everyone in Germany has. I smile as I think of my friend Marga. We shared a dorm room for a semester in Lancaster. After her first shower there, she marched into our common room, wet towel wrapped around her, and said sullenly, “Now I know why the English prefer baths rather than showers!” Never more than a thin trickle—either freezing or scalding hot—came out of that showerhead.

I get dressed in my tiny broom closet. Unfortunately, there’s no mirror, so I go downstairs to do my makeup in front of the cloudy hallway mirror. I hear the bathroom door suddenly slam shut. Is it a ghost? I thought I was alone. I just finish applying my makeup when the front door bursts open, practically giving me a stroke. Bob stomps in. When he sees me, he stops and lets out a loud wolf whistle.

“Hello, beautiful, do we know each other?” he says.

“Not really,” I say coolly. I collect my makeup and rush upstairs.

From the bottom of the stairs, he calls up to me, “Any chance for a date with you, beautiful stranger?”

I pretend not to hear him and go back to my room. Some men! After spending time in the filth-encrusted and chaotic clutter of the bathroom and the kitchen, I’m 100 percent certain there is no way I could ever be even slightly attracted to a man who lives in this house. On the other hand, his admiration makes me feel good. Although I’m quite satisfied with my reflection, Bob was a welcome guinea pig. Now I know my outfit will have the desired effect.

Right at six, I hear the loud rapping of the house’s rustic door knocker. My heart is beating with excitement, and my headache is finally starting to go away thanks to an aspirin.

I hear Emmy’s bright English falsetto. Then she calls upstairs, “Lea, your handsome admirer is here!”

I slip into my new high heels. I have deliberately postponed the moment. They are barely more comfortable than the torture-shoes I wore to Hohensyburg. Man, I swore to never wear those shoes again, much less buy a new pair! What a person won’t do for love! I grab my purse and tread daintily down the stairs. Ethan looks up. Judging from the admiration reflected in his face, the hard day of shopping was definitely worth it.

“Wow,” he says. “You look great, Lea.”

Emmy stands next to him, staring at me, her eyes glazed. “I definitely agree. You two are perfect together. Looks like it’ll be a great night.” When I take my coat from the closet, she adds, “I’m really sorry that we have to throw you out so soon, Lea. I hope it doesn’t upset your plans too much.”

“It’s okay,” I say. “Don’t worry about it.” I slip into my coat and follow Ethan out to the car.

He opens the passenger door for me, then sits down behind the wheel. As he pulls away from the curb, he asks, “Why are they kicking you out? Did you misbehave?”

I laugh. “No, of course not. Everyone is leaving tomorrow, so I can’t stay there alone.”

Ethan sniffs. “As though anyone who lives there has anything worth taking. So, now what?”

“I’m going back to Gatingstone. What else?”

Ethan silently watches the road. After a while, he says, “What a shame.”

“Yes,” I say, “I’m sorry, too, but I can’t afford a hotel. It’s just that simple.”

Ethan frowns. “Unfortunately, I don’t know what to tell you. I’m staying in Theo’s cramped quarters.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “I can use my remaining vacation days to study for my exam. I need to do that, anyway.”

Am I mistaken, or does Ethan look disappointed? I change the subject. “How was hunting?”

“Good,” Ethan says.

“Did you bag a good haul, or however you say it?”

“It was all right.”

I notice that Ethan is quiet again this evening, but it doesn’t matter. It’s one of the things I find so sexy about him. I gaze out the window and watch the landscape whiz past. Occasionally I look over at Ethan. He looks insanely handsome. Today he’s wearing a light-blue polo shirt with jeans. He’s loosely knotted a gray cashmere sweater over his shoulders. With one hand he brushes his curly hair away from his face. My eyes are drawn like a magnet to his lips. They look so tempting. For a moment I close my eyes and think about last night’s kisses. I hope he kisses me again tonight.

Eventually, Ethan breaks the silence. His eyes roam up my legs, which are very much exposed. “Well, today you’ve gone in the other direction,” he says.

I freeze. What does he mean? Did I do something wrong again? Oh no! I try to act cool, my heart pounding. “Oh yeah? In what way?”

“Now don’t get upset,” he says calmly, “but the party we’re going to is rather informal. You’ll be quite conspicuous in your sexy outfit.”

I could scream in frustration. Oh great! After I’ve gone through so much trouble to please Ethan, my outfit is wrong again. On top of it all, I had to burn through a ton of money to buy it. I’m no longer looking forward to the party. My first thought is to ask Ethan to turn around and drive me back, but that would mean giving up my evening with him. I’m so attracted to him I don’t want to lose even a moment with him.

“How annoying,” I say. “Then I completely misunderstood you. I thought you had something against Catholic schoolgirls.”

Something sparkles in Ethan’s eyes. “Not against Catholic schoolgirls—just their clothes.”

The insinuation gives me goose bumps. I remind myself that he’s a womanizer. He looks at me again, and this time his eyes wander over to my cleavage. “As I said, don’t get upset, Lea. You’re a student from Germany, so everybody there will understand that you’re unfamiliar with the usual dress code.”

His remark unsettles me even more.
Oh great
,
I think.
Everybody will think that I’m a freak who doesn’t know what she’s doing
. I’d give my right arm to suddenly be in my jeans and a T-shirt. If only I could do something to make my clothes look a little less sexy. I glance down. My plunging neckline is so low you can see the edge of my black lace bra. Great! There’s not even enough excess fabric to cover the spot with a discreet safety pin. No wonder—that was exactly the intended effect.

Ethan tries to make me feel better. “But don’t be nervous. I think it’s really nice that you went to so much trouble. All the men will definitely envy me this evening.”

He probably meant to console me, but why don’t I feel any better? Instead it sounds more like he’s saying, “Oh boy, Lea, you look pretty slutty. Did you have to dress like that? It would have been much better if you’d dressed a little more modestly. The only good thing about your outfit is that everyone is going to think I’m the type of guy who can easily score a date with a sexy girl.” These thoughts don’t exactly calm me down. My headache is back.

“You’re doing it again,” Ethan says.

I stare at my fingers. No, definitely not. I haven’t been biting my fingernails. “What do you mean?”

“You’re so tense. When I first met you, you were so unflappable. You would have laughed this off.”

I search my heart. Is this true? Yes, he’s right. What’s wrong with me?

As if he can read my thoughts, Ethan asks, “What is it? Where’s your more relaxed self?”

Yeah, where is it? I can hardly explain it to myself. I just know I’m a different person around Ethan. With him, I’m not the old self-confident Lea. I’m tense. My head throbs.

Ethan smiles at me as he gazes at me from top to bottom. “Do I make you nervous?”

Whew. Yes, it’s true. He put his finger on the problem exactly. But I’ll be damned if I tell him that. Instead I violently shake my head. “Oh rubbish, not even a little,” I say.
Lie, lie, lie
! hammers inside my head. I look angrily out the window. I’m furious with myself. I quickly give Ethan a once-over, and he immediately catches my eye. He winks at me. He’s very satisfied with himself—anyone can see that clearly. To make matters worse, he starts to whistle to himself. It makes him seem even more confident and attractive. If he were to pull the car over to the curb and take me on the spot, I would be utterly powerless in his arms. He can do what he wants with me. He is just so amazing.

We drive up a tree-lined driveway and stop in front of a large, square building that vaguely resembles a barn. The rather bold architect designed huge windows for the wooden façade. The light emanating from them is warm and inviting. Ethan parks the car in between the other cars on the mowed lawn. We walk up a gravel path to a glass door framed by the large wooden barn door. From inside, we can hear music playing.

We ring the doorbell, and a slender older woman opens the door. I want to greet her as the lady of the house, then realize her clothing looks suspiciously like a servant’s uniform. She takes our coats into the reception area and disappears. Through a door left wide open, I see a bright room with a high ceiling. The party’s in full swing there. There is a buffet and many young people dancing. The men are all casually dressed like Ethan, but some of the girls are almost as dressed up as I am. Theo rushes up to us. Beside him is a slender, sophisticated-looking guy with a very narrow, straight nose. Theo introduces him as James, the birthday boy.

James pats Ethan amicably on his shoulder, and Ethan presents him with a bottle of champagne. Then James turns to me.

“Lea! I guess you’re Ethan’s latest conquest. I’m so glad he brought you; his women get more and more beautiful each time.” James gazes at me appreciatively. “At some point, there will be a woman so beautiful, it will be impossible to top her. Then that will be the end of your running around, Ethan. Maybe it’s already happened?”