Page 35 of Time for You
“A gentleman would never dream of doing that in 1885,” he said. Henry shrugged off his sweatshirt and draped it over her shoulders, ignoring her feeble protests.
Daphne snorted. She fought the urge to snuggle into his sweatshirt, which was delightfully warm.He’s just trying to be polite,she reminded herself. “That’s what you think, but come on, do you really believe that?”
“I would never dream of speaking to a woman like that.”
“Of course you wouldn’t, because you’re a decent person. You were decent in 1885, and you’re decent now. But think of the absolute shittiest man you can imagine, and ask yourself if he truly respects women. And not just ladies of your status or whatever, but poor women, too.”
Henry fell silent. “You’re probably right.”
“Who are you thinking of?”
“Jeremy Nash. I went to school with him, and he had a nasty habit of bothering the servants.”
“See? You even knew about him, but I’m betting he never did anything out of line with women of your status, right?”
“You’re right,” he said, brow furrowed. “Did I overstep back there? Should I have let you—what’s that phrase you use—handle it?”
“Usually I just ignore them, because guys like that are cowards, you know? They want the reaction, and they get mad if there isn’t one. And most of the time it’s not worth it. But it was nice, having you stand up for me.”
Henry smiled back at her and grabbed the door handle to their building, raising his eyebrows when she went to protest. “Let me do this, Daphne,” he said softly, and she bit her lip, wondering just how deep she was getting.
Chapter Thirteen
Daphne stifled a jaw-cracking yawn and nodded to Michelle, who was headed to her day shift at the OB clinic. Daphne had spent the night at the hospital—a blessedly uneventful shift, for once, just the usual moderate chaos—and was really looking forward to collapsing into her bed until midafternoon. She was halfway through daydreaming about her pillow—so soft, so perfect—when she opened the door and jumped about half a mile.
Henry stood in the middle of their living room, a paperback clutched in his left hand, looking expectantly at her. It wasn’t so much his presence, since she knew he had a key now, and more that she wasn’t expecting to see him so goddamnearly.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Henry said with an odd, overly excited-looking smile. “Ellie’s still asleep, but I simply had to talk to someone.”
Daphne yawned again. “About what?”
“This. I found it in Helen’s apartment,” he said, and held up the paperback. It was older and clearly well loved, if the cracks on the spine were anything to judge by.
Daphne squinted. “I hate to break it to you, butJurassic Parkwill not help us with time travel.”
“It’s not that. It’s—is this real?”
Daphne had had to function at an extremely high level for twelve brutal hours, and her brain just straight up didn’t work anymore. “I have no idea what you mean, I’m sorry.”
“The science in it. Is this real?”
“Like, DNA? Yeah, that’s real,” she said, toeing off her shoes. If Henry weren’t around she’d probably just strip out of her scrubs and throw them straight into the wash, but he’d nearly had a heart attack from the idea of her washing her underwear with his clothes. Stripping down to her underthings would probably kill him on the spot.
“No, the science. All of it.”
Daphne stopped in her tracks, doing her best to keep a straight face. “You mean, do we have dinosaurs?”
“Yes,” he said, and then took another look at her. “But given the grin you’re failing to hide, I’m assuming I’m wrong.”
She gave up. “You are, I’m sorry.” She tilted her head to the side as a rueful smile spread across his face. “Did you think you were going to get to see dinosaurs?”
“Well, excuse me for thinking I’d get to see one of God’s most majestic creatures. You do have contraptions that take people to the stars, you know. To me, that’s equally difficult to comprehend,” he protested, but he was starting to chuckle while Daphne burst into giggles. She was doing her best to stay quiet—Ellie slept like the dead, but she didn’t want to risk waking her anyway—but the giggles were slowly winding up and out of control.
“I’m sorry, but how—how far did you get in that book?”
“The first few chapters.”
Daphne’s giggles were full-on laughter now, and Henry was grinning broadly. “You’ll want to read—a little further,” she said between cackles.
