Neither could her heart...
Growling, she shook her head and shaved the wheel spoke harder. Her heart had nothing to do with this!
The squeak from the door grabbed her interest, and she swung her head around to see who had entered her shop. Speaking of the devil... Why had he returned?
When their gazes met, he stopped and did a quick bow. “Forgive me for returning so soon, but I fear something has come to my attention that needs to be addressed.”
She placed the tool and spoke back on the table and faced him fully. “Believe it or not, I’m glad you came back. I, too, have something to say to you.”
One of his dark eyebrows lifted. “What is it?”
She brushed her dirty hands on her leather apron and took a step closer. “After you left, I realized how rude I had been to you, and I want you to know I’m really not like that.” She lowered her gaze. Looking at him directly did silly things to her stomach.
“I’m sure you’re not that way at all.”
Her throat suddenly became dry, so she swallowed hard. “My father would be turning in his grave if he knew I talked to you in such an inconsiderate manner. So I suppose I should offer you another chance to talk.”
When he didn’t reply right away, she raised her gaze. Shock was registered on his expression, which was most humorous, but she refrained from laughing and making the situation any more tense.
“Pardon me?” he asked. “You want me to tell you about my offer?”
She shrugged. “Of course. I need to find some humor today.” The words flew out of her mouth without knowing why. She quickly sucked in a breath, silently scolding herself.
His expression changed as a grin stole across his face.
“Forgive me,” she said before he could say anything. “I suppose I was being rude that time, as well.” She licked her dry lips. “What I meant to say was that I will hear your offer, but keep in mind I’m still not going to sell.”
“Miss Stewart,” he cocked his head, “it sounds to me as though you are issuing some kind of challenge to me.”
“Oh, Heaven’s no.” She flipped her hand. “It’s just a way to apologize to you for being discourteous.”
Slowly, he nodded. “What I understand is that you are feeling guilty now. Correct?”
“Well,” she pushed the toe of her boot into the pile of woodchips. “I suppose, I am, a little.” She really hated admitting this to him. If it wasn’t for that mental picture of her father floating on clouds and frowning at her—
“Then perhaps we should settle this over dinner tonight.”
She snapped her attention back to his. The fluttering in her belly increased, and her heart flipped against her ribs several times. “Are you jesting? We aren’t even courting.”
“I realize this, however, I believe we can still have dinner together, or...are you afraid to be seen with me?”
She snorted a laugh—a habit she wished she could control. “I would think, Mr. Drake, that you would be afraid to be seen with me.”
He ran his gaze over her attire again. “If you plan on wearing this, then perhaps I could take you to the local pub. However, if you would like me to treat you to fine dining, then I insist that you wear a gown.”
“Treat me?” She folded her arms. “I suppose if you plan on treating me to a night of fine dining, that is an offer I cannot refuse.”
He chuckled. “Then let’s hope my other offer is just as tempting.”
She prayed the twittering in her stomach would disappear soon. She hated feeling like an infatuated school girl. “We shall see, Mr. Drake.”
“What time is good for you?”
“How about seven o’clock?”
He nodded. “I shall see you then.”
He bowed again, and turned to leave, but then she recalled that he had something to say to her. “Wait,” she called out quickly. His head spun toward her. “You had mentioned there was something important you wanted to talk to me about.”
“Indeed, there was. However, I’m going to save that for this evening, if that is all right with you.”
She shrugged. “I suppose.”
“Until then, my dear Miss Stewart.”
As he walked out of the shop, she couldn’t understand the excitement beating inside of her right now. Something was definitely wrong with her. How could she despise him one minute, and then become so eager to see him in the next?
The seriousness with which he mentioned the improper matter also weighed heavily on her mind. Hopefully, the next few hours would speed by, so she could find out what was on his mind.
As long as she could behave herself, anyway...
FIVE
Morgan fidgeted in his coach as the driver drove him to Melinda’s home—which of course, happened to be the blacksmith shop. At oft times, regret formed a knot in the pit of his stomach. Should he really convince her to sell her land to him? This was her only home, as pitiful as it was. And yet, he reminded himself that if she did take his offer, he’d give her enough money to rebuild a shop closer to town and build or buy a real house.
Yes. This offer would do her a world of good! If only he could make her see it.
His driver stopped the vehicle, so Morgan opened the door and hopped down. He straightened his over-jacket and proceeded toward the door. There was a door on the other side of the building that appeared to be a regular front door. This must be where they lived. He rapped on the door, and waited for someone to answer.
When the doorknob shook slightly, he held his breath until the door opened. Melinda stood in front of him, looking even lovelier than she had at the mask ball. She wore a lavender dress that formed nicely to her womanly curves. The square-neck bodice showed him enough of her ample bosom for him to realize she really was a woman and not the man she dressed like during the day. The crocheted sleeves were a darker lavender color, adding to the elegance of the dress. The white trim around the neckline matched the high-waist gown. The elbow-length, white gloves, added to her ensemble. She curled her hair in ringlets, and he felt the urge to caress a lock of hair to see if it was as silky as it appeared.
He shook himself out of the stupor her beauty had put him in, and smiled. “Good evening, Miss Stewart.” He bowed slightly. This time she curtsied.
Her cheeks turned a bright pink. “Good evening, Mr. Drake.”
“Are you ready?” He held out his elbow.
She swung a white shawl over her shoulders before slipping her hand over his arm. “Indeed, I am.”
The ride to the restaurant didn’t take very long, but it was hard to think of something to say. As he gazed upon her beauty, he was literally at a loss for words. And if he happened to think of something to say, he worried he’d be tongue-tied. Thankfully, she stared out the window the whole time and didn’t say a word, either.
They reached Gunther’s Chavot, and Morgan climbed out of the coach first before helping her down. With her hand in his, he experienced the warmth flowing through his body just as he’d done at the ball when they danced, and especially, when they kissed.
Her eyes met his briefly, and she quickly lowered her gaze. It was hard not to notice the blush on her cheeks. He couldn’t stop the grin sneaking across his face.
Just before they entered, she lifted her head and looked at the sign above the door. Her eyes widened and her attention swung toward Morgan.
“Gunther’s Chavot? Are you jesting?”
“No. Why would I jest?”
She gasped. “Only the finest people dine here.”
He nodded. “Am I to understand you have never been to this restaurant?”
She released a hurried laugh, sounding too much like a snort. He’d heard Melinda do this before, and he thought it was adorable coming from her.
“Of course not,” she said. “Did I not just say only the finest people dine here?”
“Yes.”
“Then why would you think I’ve been here? When my father was alive, he had never entered this e
stablishment, either.”
Morgan smiled fully. “Then it’s my treat to be able to escort you inside.” He opened the door and she walked in first. After taking three steps, she stopped. With wide eyes, she scanned the room. Slowly, her jaw dropped. He nearly laughed over her display.
They were shown to a table in the corner of the room. Morgan pulled out the chair for Melinda before sitting himself. She fidgeted on her seat, wringing her fingers together as her hands rested on the very edge of the table. She moved her gaze from one table to the next.
Did she wonder if anyone recognized her? Of course they wouldn’t. These patrons wouldn’t have even imagined a woman working in a man’s world, and they would faint dead away if they knew Melinda actually dressed like a man.
Casually, he placed his large hand over hers. Once her eyes met his, he winked. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “If you act like you belong here, everyone else will think you do.”
Her chest rose and fell a little slower. She straightened her shoulders and locked gazes with him. He smiled. Now this was the woman he remembered meeting at the masked ball.
“So, Mr. Drake,” she began calmly. “Have you decided how you’re going to talk me into accepting your offer?”
He chuckled. “Please, call me Morgan.”
“If you wish, Morgan.”
“That’s much better. And to answer your question, no I haven’t decided how I’m going to talk you into it. I’m just going to explain how this offer will help you immensely.”
“Hmm... Well, if you think it’ll work.”
“Let’s order our meal first, then we can talk later.”
She nodded and glanced down at the menu. The waiter took their orders and was soon gone.
Morgan studied Melinda, still not believing how beautiful she looked. “I must admit, Melinda, you have really surprised me.”
She tilted her head. “Why? Because I actually own a nice gown?”
Although he was thinking that very thing, he didn’t dare say it aloud. “Because you are a talented little chameleon. When I met you at the ball, you had a quality about you that made me think you could have been a princess. When I met you at your shop this morning, I really thought you were a man.” He spoke the last word softly just in case someone overheard. “And then this evening.” Moving his gaze over her slowly, he grinned wide. “I didn’t think you could be as lovely as you were at the ball, but I was wrong. You are absolutely breathtaking. Now I wonder what role you will play next.”
When she laughed, her voice lifted in merriment. “If you annoy me tonight, I assure you, my role will be apparent immediately.”
“May I ask you a personal question?”
During her short pause, she gave him a skeptical look. “It depends on how personal your question is.”
“I just want to know about your life. Do you dress up like a beautiful woman often? Or is tonight a special occasion?”
Her smile disappeared, and he mentally kicked himself for asking. He hadn’t meant for it to sound rude, but apparently, she must have taken it that way.
“Besides last night and this evening, I don’t usually get dressed up like this. My friend Judith had talked me into going to the masked ball. It has been months since I’ve been to any type of social gathering, and she thought I would enjoy myself.”
“Did you enjoy yourself, then?”
She nodded. “Yes, for a little while, anyway.”
“Why did you leave before saying goodbye?” he asked in a low voice.
“Because I realized what I was doing...with you. I realized how I didn’t want to keep lying to you.”
“You were lying to me?”
She shrugged. “Well, you probably thought I was a wealthy, well-bred young lady, am I correct?”
“Yes, that’s what I thought.”
“I honestly didn’t think I would see you again, and that is why I left. I had enjoyed myself with you, but I knew last night’s fairy tale would never come true. I didn’t want to hurt you in any way.”
He’d wondered if that was the reason. Of course, her instincts were correct, because he was starting to have feelings for her. “I appreciate you thinking of my feelings, but I believe I would have understood if you had just told me the truth.”
“No, you wouldn’t have understood. Nobody can understand, which is why I choose to hide in men’s clothes,” she said quietly. “But I shall continue this farce until Jake is old enough to take over the business himself.”
Hearing her brother’s name reminded Morgan of the conversation he’d overheard earlier today between Jake and his friends. Morgan must inform her of their intentions. “Then let’s hope that time is sooner rather than later, because I fear your brother might have made friends with the wrong people.”
Her eyebrows creased. “What do you mean?”
“Earlier today...” Morgan had to stop when their waiter brought them wine and their meals. Morgan kept silent until after the waiter left. He picked up his flute and sipped the drink. “As I was saying, earlier today while I was at the local pub, I overheard a conversation between three young men. Two were older than the third, and they referred to him as Stewart. It wasn’t until they finally called him Jake, and then mentioned your name, when I realized this boy was your brother.”
“They were in a pub, you say?” She lifted her wine and instead of taking a sip, she took a gulp, grimacing after her swallow.
“Yes, the pub.” He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I overheard their conversation, and it didn’t sound very promising. I think these boys are up to no good.”
Her expression soured considerably. “Why would you think that?”
“They were speaking quietly, but I did hear the words stagecoach, robbery, Wednesday, and kidnapping. Right before this particular topic of conversation, they were talking about making money.”
Her face lost color and she gulped at her drink again. Morgan wondered if she was used to drinking this much. If not...she’d be hard to handle by the end of the evening, he was sure.
“Are you certain that’s what was said,” she asked in a small voice.
He nodded. “The friends he was with even suggested to your brother that his sister didn’t know about what they were going to do.”
She licked her lips. “What was Jake’s response?”
“He told his friends he’d make certain you were kept busy.”
Melinda grumbled under her breath as she put the glass back up to her lips and drank until she’d swallowed every last drop. When she set her flute back down, she sighed. “More, please.”
Hesitantly, he poured her more, hoping she didn’t consume the glassful as fast as she had the first. But a few moments later, her glass was empty once again.
“Miss Stewart,” he said, “if you’d like, I could spy on your brother on Wednesday. That way, I could stop him from doing anything foolish.”
Tears filled her eyes and she blinked rapidly. “You would do that for me, even though I’ve been completely impolite toward you?”
He chuckled softly and drummed his fingers on the table. “You haven’t been completely impolite.” He gave her a wink. “And yes, I would do this for you. After all, your brother doesn’t know me, so he shan’t get suspicious.”
“I pray he doesn’t.” She sighed and her shoulders drooped. Using her fork, she moved some of the food on her plate. “I wish I knew what to do with him. I’m trying to teach him to take responsibility, but he’s been so careless lately. He acts as if he doesn’t want our father’s business.”
“Perhaps he doesn’t.” Morgan took a bite of his fish.
Her gaze remained on her food. “That’s what I’m beginning to think. But it’s a ridiculous notion.” She glanced at him before looking back at her plate. “Our father worked hard to make the shop what it is today. Why can’t Jake see that our father did this for us?”
Morgan ate a few more bites while he pondered on what to say next. He liked how she was ope
ning up to him, and hopefully, this meant she would soon trust him. He knew his offer to buy her land would help her and Jake, if only he could make her see that, as well.
Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to smile victoriously. But he wasn’t the victor, yet. However, this plan just might help her realize what he’s been trying to tell her all along.
He set down his fork and took a sip of his drink before leaning back in his chair. “I was thinking, perhaps you could let him see how much he’s needed in the shop.”
Her gaze bounced up and she stared deeply into his eyes. The expression on her face registered suspicion. He’d definitely have to act like he wasn’t purposely trying to be sneaky.
“How do you mean?” she asked.
“From what I have noticed, you are doing most of the duties, so—”
“Of course, I am. He’s injured his leg.” She took another drink of her wine.
He held up his hand and nodded. “I understand, but I wonder if he’s feeling restive because he cannot do much.” He folded his hands together and rested them on the edge of the table. “When I was a young man, my sister had hurt herself and was unable to assist my mother in her millinery shop. My sister sulked for days, and didn’t feel needed. One day, my mother decided to play sick.”
Pausing, he waited for Melinda’s reaction. Slowly, she arched an eyebrow, but she didn’t say anything.
“Mother knew she’d lose money, but she did it to prove a point. After three days of her staying home playing sick, my sister stepped up and—although still recovering from her injury—she went to work and started making bonnets.” He shrugged. “All my sister needed was a reason to go back to work, and my mother’s ruse worked.”
Melinda leaned forward, placing her arms on the table. “I didn’t know your mother worked. I thought you were born wealthy.”
The Sweetest Challenge Page 4
