An Unexpected Husband (The Colorado Brides Series) (12 page)

“That’ll give me something to do this evening.”

“I’ll have them sent over later.”

“What on earth do they make for supper here?” asked Clarissa.

“All the things you’d expect anywhere,” murmured Brandon. “We’ve had mountain trout, bean soup, venison, and sage hen.”

“Delightful,” murmured Elizabeth. “I can hardly wait.”

“I’m fair to starved.” Clarissa got to her feet, as Rosalind had begun to fuss.

“She should be hungry now.” I held out my hands. “I can take her to the wet nurse.”

“You might be right,” said Elizabeth. “I’ve a few things I wish to discuss with my brother.”

I held Rosalind, feeling distinctly unwanted. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Take your time,” she said. Before I was out of earshot, I heard, “What on earth are you thinking? Have you taken leave of your senses?”

I closed the door behind me, standing in Megan’s room, while my heart beat uncomfortably in my chest.

“You look like you’ve faced the dragon and lost.” Megan sat on the bed with a book in her lap. Judy played with paper dolls, while Joshua was in the bassinette.

“I suppose I did. She’s hungry.” I gave the baby to her, while sitting on the bed. My shoulders had slumped, while a dreaded heaviness settled upon me.

“I know he’s sweet on you.” She unbuttoned her blouse, while Rosalind began to fuss. “I saw that from the start.”

“He says he wants to marry me.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“But his sister doesn’t like it.”

“I wouldn’t worry about her.”

“Family is important, Megan. If mine objected strenuously to a future partner, I might think twice about such a union. I’m afraid the same thing will happen for Brandon, I mean, Mr. Carlyle. Once they fill his head with all the reasons why he shouldn’t marry me, he’ll change his mind.”

“He’s a grown man. He’ll do as he pleases.”

“I hope so.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes.”

Her hand covered mine. “Then don’t fret. You’re a lucky girl to have made such a fine match. You’ll never have to worry about a thing ever again. He’ll take good care of you.”

“He never did propose.” That was an unpleasant thought. “He was going to, but then his sister arrived. He went to my pa this morning to ask him for my hand, but he never asked me. Not properly anyway.”

“He will.”

“I knew it was too easy.”

“You’re luckier than me. I never attracted the attention of nobody good. I was always attached to the scoundrels and gamblers. Those were the only ones who paid me any mind.”

“I’m sorry, Megan. Perhaps one day—”

“Not for me. I’ve already passed my prime. I’m all worn out now.”

“That’s not true. There are plenty of men in these parts looking for a good, strong woman. You’re still in your prime.”

She smiled crookedly. “You don’t need to butter me up, honey. I’ll be fine. I always end up on my feet, one way or the other.”

“Me too, I suppose, but I’d rather end up with Brandon.”

Her hand patted my back. “Then you will. You're a pretty little thing, and he’s keen to have you. I’ve seen that look on a man before. You’ll make him a sweet wife and give him more babies. Don't you worry about his sister and her friend. They won’t stay in these parts for long. They’re too highfalutin’ for a place like Denver City. It wouldn’t surprise me if they left in the morning.”

“We can only hope,” I muttered.

Chapter Thirteen

That evening, while preparing for dinner, I tried my best to look as fashionable as I could, but I hadn’t brought an evening gown. All my dresses were calico and functional with high necklines. Staring at myself in the mirror, I realized I could never compete with the elegance of our guests, and that thought was depressing. In the end, I did what I could, fixing my hair in a twisted bun, after parting it in the center. I wore a yellow calico with a blue shawl, but it was older than I would have liked.

“This will have to do,” I murmured to myself. Megan had kindly offered to watch Rosalind, so I could have dinner with Brandon and his sister. Tamping down the feeling of impending doom, I braced myself, while reaching for the doorknob. Everyone was already in the parlor. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

The ladies had changed into finer clothing, if that were possible, as Elizabeth wore a green silk evening gown with lace and ribbon trimmings and Clarissa was adorned in a mauve dress with a tiered skirt. Someone had rose-scented perfume on, the aroma lingering pleasantly.

Brandon strode towards me, smiling. “Well, then. It looks like we’re ready to go down.”

“We won’t eat here?” This was not what I had expected.

“No, my dear. I’ve a lovely evening planned, but we needn’t be trapped in the hotel room.”

“Oh, I see.”

“You mustn’t make yourself uneasy about your appearance,” said Elizabeth. “I’m sure you won’t be the only one simply dressed.”

“That is a pretty shade of yellow.” Clarissa smiled slightly, tipping her perfectly coiffed head to the side. “It’s country quaint.”

“Perhaps we’ll have to find our own dresses at the mercantile.” Elizabeth smirked, yet there was a certain gleam in her eye.

They were having a laugh at my expense, but I would not take the bait. “These garments are functional enough for my needs.”

“Indeed,” agreed Brandon, his hand on my back. “I’m blind to fashion as it is. I can’t tell the difference between a flounce and a ruffle, nor do I care.” He began to guide me towards the door. “Come now, ladies. We can discuss the finer points of fashion later, after I’ve had a few brandies.”

We were in the hall within moments, heading for the stairs. The dining room was filled with an odd assortment of businessmen, Indian traders, Army officers, and trappers. All heads seemed to turn in our direction when we entered, as these men had not seen women dressed so handsomely in months, if not years. I was hardly the focus of their attention, fading into the background, while Elizabeth and Clarissa all but preened under the scrutiny.

Brandon’s mouth was near my ear. “You look lovely, Mary. I wouldn’t have you any other way, although…” he grinned sheepishly, “except when we’re married, but…that’s hardly appropriate. I…forget I said anything.”

The tone of his voice had left little doubt about what he might be referring to, and I was stunned for a moment, realizing that he did find me appealing. I was seated next to him, but I dared not look his way, fearing that he would see the blush that had crept upon my cheeks.

“Well,” said Elizabeth, reaching for a napkin. “Isn’t this…delightful. One can only hope the silverware is clean.”

Clarissa’s features were even lovelier by candlelight. “What do all these men do? Is the Army still necessary? I thought the Indians had been driven off.”

“They are, but skirmishes flare up occasionally.”

“We saw some atrocious things on the wagon trail, Brandon.”

He glanced at his sister. “I can imagine. We did as well. Burnt out wagons and corpses.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Four of our party died from illness. Two succumbed to cholera.”

“I’ve kept quite the journal,” said Clarissa. “Every detail of my experience has been noted. I sketched landscapes, and I tried my best to draw the forts we visited. I’m planning on writing a book about the experience.”

“She fancies herself to be the next Anne Hennis Trotter Bailey.”

“Oh, goodness, no!” exclaimed Clarissa. “That’s ridiculous. I would never wear men’s clothing and shoot a gun. I’ve more of an adventurous
literary
spirit. I don’t want to participate in calamity. I only want to write about it.”

“Wasn’t that woman declared mad?” asked Brandon.

“She went a bit mad after her husband died, I suppose.” Elizabeth craned her neck. “Is there a waiter employed here or must we cook our own dinner?”

Brandon waved to a servant, who strode over. “I’ll bring the menu, sir, at once. I’m sorry about the delay.”

“Thank you.”

When we had ordered our meals, the waiter poured wine into our glasses, while I nursed a strong ice tea. The conversation shifted to a wide range of topics from politics to the effects of “Radical Reconstruction” and the possibility of opening the west through the expansion of the railroad. These were turbulent, yet exciting, times, and most of us still hadn’t recovered from the shock of Lincoln’s assassination. Each of us could remember where we were when news came of the event. By the time our meals arrived, I had begun to relax, although I felt underdressed in comparison to the men and women surrounding me.

“So, Mary, dear,” said Elizabeth. “What sort of schooling have you had?”

I had begun to loathe her questions. “A typical education, Miss Carlyle.”

An eyebrow arched. “And what would that entail?”

“A schoolroom.”

“Oh.” Her lips were slightly pursed. “I do find the higher education of women as something to be admired, but then I don’t suppose there are any women’s colleges in Denver City.”

“Not that I’m aware of,” I murmured.

“If that’s the case, I would send out for a crate of books,” opined Clarissa. “A woman can improve herself easily with books.”

“Yes, but that would require a means of actually bringing them out to this…this wilderness.”

“Freight wagons are useful,” said Clarissa.

“But cost prohibitive,” countered Brandon. “It’s cheaper to go by rail. They’ll have to wait for the train before anything other than the bare necessities arrive.”

“We have books. My stepfather adores them.”

“What sorts of books does he read?” asked Elizabeth.

“Anything from adventure to romance, but he’s entirely fond of inspirational reading and things of that nature.”

“Not one example? The name of a book?” Elizabeth eyed me over her wineglass.

“We’ve read…” now I struggled to remember the names of certain authors, feeling as if I were being interrogated, “William Blake and Jane Austen and Thorot.”

Amusement gleamed in Elizabeth’s eyes. “Thoreau?”

“Yes, that one. We typically sit before the fire and read out loud. My brothers adore “The Last of the Mohicans.”

“And a fine, adventurous tale that is,” said Brandon. His grin told me that he did not think any less of me for not being as well read as his sister. “But what are books to real life experiences? I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of adventures, haven’t you, Mary?”

“Yes, sir. We’ve battled grasshoppers a few seasons ago.”

Laughter escaped Elizabeth. “Grasshoppers?”

“There was an infestation. It ruined nearly sixty percent of the crops that year. We tried to beat them off, but it didn’t help.”

“How…interesting,” she murmured. “I remember hearing how the city burned to the ground. It seems to have recovered.”

“Yes, then there was a flood. These have been challenging times. We’re hopeful the railroad will revive the businesses. There’s still mining to be had in the mountains. The free gold might be gone, but I’m sure they’ll find more somewhere.”

“Oh, no doubt.” She wasn’t impressed in the least. “It certainly does retain a rather countrified air.” Her hand rested upon Brandon’s. “How much longer will you be trapped here? You’ve already been gone since the spring. There’s a great deal for you to catch up on. You’ve dozens of messages. I left them in your office.”

“You should have brought them to me, if they were urgent.”

“No, they weren’t. Just business inquiries and things.”

Dessert arrived, which was plum pudding and raspberry ice. Clarissa wasn’t as talkative as Elizabeth, but she seemed quietly attentive, nodding and murmuring her agreement often. I hadn’t enjoyed the dinner, although the food was good. The company and the discussion on topics that I knew little of was a concern. Would Brandon think me a simpleton because I had not read and traveled extensively?

When we had finally retired to our room, Elizabeth and Clarissa disappeared down the hall to theirs. Megan had put Rosalind in her bassinette, and, while I changed into my nightclothes, I replayed the evening in my mind, cringing at some of the things I had said. Once my hair had been undone and brushed out, I sat on the bed tiredly, staring at the oil lamp, which cast a yellow glow over the blankets. A light rap on the door caught my attention.

“Yes?”

“It’s just me.” Brandon stood in the doorway dressed in only his trousers and shirt. He’d removed the waistcoat and jacket. His necktie hung loosely. “You’re not sleeping yet, are you?”

“Not at the moment.”

He entered, which was mildly alarming, approaching the bed, which he sat upon. “I’m sorry you had to endure the Spanish Inquisition. My sister can be…trying.”

“It’s all right. She wants to know more about me. That’s understandable.”

He touched my face. “I want to know more about you.”

Before I could say another word, his mouth was on mine, silencing whatever I had been about to say. I wound my arms around his neck, while his tongue slid across my lips. In the next instant, he turned with me, until I was on my back, while his soft, eager mouth found the sensitive spot beneath my ear. I clung to him, feeling overwhelmed with strange desires. His hand on my thigh brought me to my senses.

I struggled to sit. “Oh, we mustn’t.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” he shrugged, “well, I did, I suppose. You may slap me. I deserve it.” His hair had fallen into his eyes, while a lopsided grin held shades of mischief.

“You’re dreadfully impertinent, sir.”

“I am.”

He had turned into a bit of a wolf, and his expression left little doubt of his intentions. I hadn’t anticipated the danger of my situation until this moment. This had been one of the most shocking events of my life. What truly worried me was my own reaction and how weak I had been, nearly unable and unwilling to stop the seduction.

Brandon left the bed, standing before me; his look was now concerned. “I’ve overstepped my boundaries. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be frightened of me, my love. I would never press you into…things before you were ready.”

“W-we shouldn’t be in here alone.”

“No, of course not.” He was at the door, holding the knob. “Come sit with me by the fire then.”