“Well, I’m certainly glad. I’ll pay a call sometime this week and see how you are. I’m sure you have all sorts of news from . . . I’m sorry. Where are you from again?”
“Topeka.”
“Topeka. That’s right. I was about to say Wichita, but I somehow knew that wasn’t right.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Yes, I’ll come by for a visit. That would be nice.”
“I’m glad you two know each other. Mr. Howard, would you mind keeping Miss Palmer company while I fetch us some punch?” The doctor looked back and forth between them like he’d hit on a wonderful plan. Sarah pressed her lips together, wishing a tornado would pop up and carry this entire building away and blow it to bits. That was the only solution she could see.
“I’d be glad to.” Gilbert gave Sarah a wink, and she instantly became furious. He had no right to wink at her. He had no right to smile at her or come for a visit or anything. As far as she was concerned, he shouldn’t even be in the same room with her. But the doctor had already moved off through the crowd, so it was too late to object.
“So, Mr. Howard,” Sarah began. She needed to be polite and make conversation, if for no other reason than to show she wasn’t still upset about what had happened the year before. At that moment, though, she wasn’t sure that she had moved past it. It was difficult to tell with him standing right in front of her, a smug look on his face. “You look well.”
“Thank you. Business has been good.” He seemed to appraise her. “I must say, you look quite fetching this evening. I never imagined that you’d be on the doctor’s arm, though.”
“I’m not really on his arm,” Sarah hastened to explain. “It was all arranged this morning. His son was supposed to escort me tonight, but couldn’t.”
“Is that so?” Gilbert looked like he was holding back a laugh. “That’s rather interesting.”
“What do you mean?” Sarah hated it when people dropped hints about knowing more than they were supposed to know. It was all a ploy to make people ask them to share, an excuse for gossiping. But in this case, she really did need to know, and it was made all the worse that Gilbert was the one she had to ask.
“His son left this morning to head back to college. I saw him at the train station myself.”
“This morning? Early, or late?”
“Oh, around nine, I suppose.”
Nine? And the doctor had visited Aunt Clasby at ten. He knew his son couldn’t escort Sarah, and had lied about it.
“Tell me about the doctor,” she said, switching tacks.
“I don’t know much about him personally, only by reputation,” Gilbert replied. “And his reputation is for being a flirt. I’ve heard that he’s looking for a new wife, and the sooner, the better. Seems he’s got his eye on you, Miss Palmer.”
Sarah opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no words came out. Just then, the doctor came back, carrying two cups of punch. “Here you are, Miss Palmer,” he said, handing one to her. “I’m sorry about the delay. There was quite a line.”
“I imagine there was.” Sarah took a sip, looking away. Denver had to be cursed—there was no other explanation. First, the whole fiasco with Gilbert, and now the doctor was trying to court her? She wished for the thousandth time that she had stayed in Topeka.
“I’ll excuse myself now,” Gilbert said with a slight bow. “I hope you have an enjoyable evening.”
“He seems like a nice fellow,” Dr. Ridley said as he watched Gilbert disappear into the crowd. “How do you know him?”
Thankfully, there was at least one person in town who hadn’t heard the story. “We were thrown in together at some social events last summer,” Sarah answered, hoping she wouldn’t be asked for any more details than that.
Dr. Ridley took her cup, which was now empty, and returned it to the refreshment area. Then they walked back to their seats, Sarah even more conscious of his hand on her elbow. When this evening started, she’d thought she was being escorted by a kindly older gentleman who didn’t want her to have to cancel her plans. Now she didn’t know what to think, or how to feel, or even how to act.
At the end of the concert, Sarah waited on the steps while Dr. Ridley fetched the carriage. Gilbert walked past, surrounded by a cloud of women. One of them looked at Sarah and giggled, pressing a hand to her mouth, and Sarah glanced toward the street. She’d pretend she hadn’t noticed—sometimes it was just better that way. When the doctor brought the carriage to the base of the steps, she was glad to get away from the crowd, but not at all glad about whatever would happen next.
“I hope you enjoyed the concert,” Dr. Ridley said as they got underway.
“Oh, yes, I did very much. Especially the pieces by Strauss.”
“Yes, indeed. The man is a genius. In fact, when they played the waltz, it was all I could do not to stand up and whisk you around the room, Miss Palmer.”
Sarah couldn’t imagine it. She didn’t even want to try. “That isn’t the purpose of a concert, I’m afraid,” she replied. “We’re supposed to stay in our seats, not dance around.”
“Right you are. That puts me in mind of something else, however. There’s a ball next Friday night, and I’d very much like to escort you. Then we could dance without causing a scene. Unless you have other plans, of course.”
“I . . .” Oh, dear. There would be no putting off this conversation. She’d hoped that he would take her home, tell her goodnight, and that would be the end of it. No such luck.
“I’ve been too forward. I’m sorry, Miss Palmer. I should have waited a few days to mention it. You’re just such a charming companion, the words slipped out before I thought.”
“No, you’re not being too forward.” Sarah winced. That was another little bit of a lie. “It’s just . . . May I ask to what end?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Why would you like to escort me to the ball?” She couldn’t think of another way to put it that would still be polite.
The doctor chuckled. “Are you asking me my intentions?”
Thankfully, it was fully dark, and the moon was hidden behind a cloud. He wouldn’t be able to see how red her face had become. “I’m not sure I would have phrased it that way . . . but yes, I suppose I am.”
He chuckled again, then grew serious. “I mentioned earlier that my wife died. I’ll make no secret of it—I would like to remarry. Having a wife gives a man a certain kind of stability that he can get through no other relationship, and I’ve missed having that in my life. I’ve decided to find a younger woman, one in good health, who will be able to stand by me in my later years. You seem to be a very gentle sort, well educated, certainly pleasing to look at, and I would very much like to get to know you better.”
“For a potential marriage,” she blurted.
“Yes, for a potential marriage.” He shook his whip again, which only made the moment twice as bad.
Sarah had no idea what she should say. There was nothing wrong with him wanting to remarry, but he shouldn’t have lied about his son in order to escort her himself, and she wasn’t at all interested in getting to know him better. For any reason. As far as matrimony went, that was so impossible, it was almost funny.
“Dr. Ridley, you’ve certainly paid me a great compliment, but I’m afraid I can’t return it,” she said at last. “My feelings are elsewhere.” That wasn’t a lie—she was very much in love with her work at the Brody Hotel.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, sounding morose. “I was afraid that might be the case when I saw you and Gilbert Howard speaking to each other tonight.”
“Gilbert Howard? Oh, no. No. He and I—we’re not involved. At all.” Sarah nearly choked, she was so surprised. “I promise, it’s not Gilbert.”
“Am I to know the name of my rival?”
At that, Sarah had to hide a laugh. It was such a contradiction—he sounded like a wounded lover in a melodramatic novel, not an elderly man with a white mustache. “I’m sorry. I’m not at liberty to say,” she
answered, matching the drama of her answer to his question.
“Very well, then. I’ll just have to be grateful for this one evening we spent together.” When he brought the carriage up to her front porch, she paused, not quite ready to let him go even though things were now so very awkward.
“One more question, if I might, Doctor.”
“Of course.”
“I’ve been curious about this for some time now. Why did you write to me and ask me to come? Why not suggest that my cousin write to me?”
The doctor squirmed in his seat, which made him look like a little boy caught in a lie. Sarah nearly laughed at this contradiction as well. Little boys didn’t have busy mustaches.
“I suppose I’ll have to be entirely frank with you, Miss Palmer,” he said. “The truth of the matter is that I saw your photograph on your aunt’s dressing table, and I felt an immediate draw to you. I was concerned that if your cousin wrote, you might not come, and so I took it upon myself.”
Sarah held up her hand. “Wait a moment. You saw my photograph, decided that I needed to come to Denver so you could meet me, and wrote me a letter to encourage me to come? And then you lied about your son’s availability to escort me? Yes, I know about that, Doctor. I learned about it from Gilbert Howard. It would seem that in some ways, he’s been kinder to me than you have. Tell me. Is my aunt seriously ill, or did you invent that as well?” She could hardly speak by this point, she was so angry.
“Now, Miss Palmer, please understand. I can’t explain the ways of nature, the ways of love. All I know is that when I saw your sweet face, there was something in it so pure, so angelic, that my heart yearned to meet yours.”
Gracious. This was the stuff that could nauseate a person.
“And as for your aunt, yes, she is ill. She does need the rest I have prescribed. I might be a lovesick old fool, but I would never lie about a patient under my care.”
“But you would lie to the relatives of that patient, Doctor, so you realize that I’m having a hard time believing anything you say right now.”
“And for that, I offer my most sincere apologies. But how could I take the risk that you might not come? We needed this chance to explore, to see if fate had brought the two of us together for a reason more vast than anything we could have dreamed up for ourselves.”
Sarah pressed her fingers to her temples. This was becoming more ridiculous by the minute, and she needed to call an end to it.
“Dr. Ridley, it’s a rather romantic notion that you had such feelings from me from something as simple as a photograph. A photograph, by the way, I’m beginning to regret ever sitting for. However, you have gone about this in the most underhanded way imaginable. Did you think that once I knew what you’d done, I’d be flattered that you lied in order to bring us together? Lying and romance cannot coexist. Dishonesty will never lead to love, and I will not get married until I’m in love. That much I know about myself very plainly. I cannot stand deceit, Doctor. Not in the slightest. I wish you a good evening, and you don’t need to see me in.”
She hopped down from the carriage and ran up the steps, doing her best not to slam the door behind her. Her head was pounding so hard, she thought it might explode right off her shoulders. Who did he think he was? How had he even come up with this ridiculous plan? One thing was for certain—she would encourage her aunt to find a new doctor as soon as possible.
Chapter Eight
Denver, Colorado
1875
Aunt Clasby stared at her, breakfast uneaten on a tray near the bed.
“And that’s why I dislike Denver so much,” Sarah finished. She had spent most of the night awake, sifting through all the things that had happened, and she decided it was time to tell her aunt the truth. It took several minutes, but now that she had done it, she felt so much better. Her aunt, on the other hand, looked stunned.
“My dear, I had no idea,” she said at last. “I have my own reasons for disliking Denver, but I never dreamed you’d gone through so much here.”
“Why don’t you like Denver, Mother?” Felicity asked. “You’ve never said.”
“It’s the mountains.” Aunt Clasby shuddered. “They loom, like they’re going to pounce. But that’s neither here nor there. Sarah, do you honestly mean to say that Dr. Ridley lied about his son so he could take you to the concert himself? And he connived to bring you here in the first place?”
“I’m sorry to say, yes.”
Aunt Clasby shook her head. “I never did like those Howards. They’re so self-important. I’m sorry, my dear. You are fully justified in all your feelings. I wish I hadn’t made you come all this way, to a place you hate, just on my account.”
“Oh, Auntie, stop that.” Sarah reached out and took her aunt’s hand. “You’re ill, and this is where I belong. It’s true that Denver is like a swirling beehive of unfortunate experiences for me, but I’ll just lock myself away in the house and spend time with you, which is why I’m here anyway, and all will be well.”
“But that’s no fun at all,” Aunt Clasby protested.
“What do you mean? We’ll have lots of fun. I’ll read to you, and we can look out the window and critique the hats on the women as they walk past, and you can teach me those embroidery stitches you always meant to show me. Maybe having a restful visit is just what I need.”
Aunt Clasby looked doubtful. “You hate embroidery.”
“True, but maybe it’s time I learned to enjoy it. Now, what about breakfast?”
Aunt Clasby looked over at her tray in surprise. “I was so caught up in your story, I completely forgot about it.”
Felicity handed her mother the cup of tea, then arranged the tray across her lap. Then a knock sounded on the door, and she went to answer it.
“I do need to finish a pillow I was working on,” Aunt Clasby said thoughtfully.
“See? This is the perfect chance to teach me. You’ll need to lend me a needle, though—I didn’t bring one with me.”
Aunt Clasby shook her head. “You’re trying too hard to sound cheerful, my dear. I think you’re really imagining yourself heading off to the guillotine.”
“Is it that obvious?” Sarah laughed. She knew how to sew a dress, but embroidery was tedious and mostly frivolous. She just didn’t see the point in it.
Felicity stepped into the room, a nervous look on her face. “Sarah, you have a visitor,” she said in a low voice.
“What?” Sarah’s chest felt heavy all of a sudden. “Is it Dr. Ridley?”
“No. It’s Mr. Howard.”
That heaviness turned to nausea. “Can’t you tell him I’m not in?”
“I’m sorry, but I was so surprised, I said you were home.”
Sarah held back a sigh. “All right, I’ll see him. But I’ll send him packing as soon as I can. I don’t know who he thinks he is, after last night.” She brushed past Felicity and down the hall to the parlor, where the tall man in a gray suit stood before the fireplace, studying the figurines on the mantel.
“Mr. Howard, I’m sure I should feel grateful that you stopped by, but really, it’s not necessary.”
He turned at the sound of her voice. It was Stephen, not Gilbert. She’d never realized how much alike they looked from the back. Heat flooded her cheeks. “Um, that is to say, good morning.”
He grinned. “And good morning to you, Miss Palmer. I’d ask how your day is going so far, but you sound a little out of sorts, so that’s probably not the safest question.”
“I’m sorry. I thought . . . well, to be honest, I thought you were your brother, and I wasn’t in the mood to see him.”
“He did mention that he’d run into you last night, somewhat literally. He seemed to think you had just gotten yourself betrothed to Dr. Ridley.” Stephen motioned toward the couch. “Do you mind if I—”
“Oh, gracious. Of course. Please, have a seat.” Sarah crossed the room and took the chair across from the sofa, and he sat as she did. “I think I left all my manners back in Topeka
.”
“You did seem to be traveling rather light,” he joked. “Tell me, Miss Palmer. Why weren’t you glad about seeing my brother? Did he do something or say something unkind?”
“No, not in particular. It was just . . . I suppose it was the memories of everything that happened before, and then to be seen in public with a man known to be scouting for a wife . . . it was uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.”
“I can understand that. How is Dr. Ridley these days, anyway? I haven’t seen him for a while.”
“He seems to be all right. Still single, still on the hunt. He asked if he could take me to a ball next week, and I had to tell him that my feelings are tied up elsewhere.” Should she tell him the whole story? No—it would embarrass her more than any possible good it would do, and she’d had enough embarrassment to last her a lifetime.
“Oh? And who is the lucky man, if I might ask?” Stephen waggled his eyebrows.
“Dr. Ridley thought it was Gilbert.”
“And from your reaction when you thought I was him, I take it that’s false?”
“Of course. Besides, I left Denver over a year ago and just returned. How could I be in a relationship with your brother so fast, and without you knowing it?”
“True, true.” He paused. “So, are you going to tell me, or is this some kind of giant mystery?”
“I’m not actually obligated to tell you, you know.”
“I realize that. I just hoped you would.”
“All right, I will. But this is not only a mystery, but a secret. A secret you’re not allowed to share with anyone.”
Stephen crossed his finger over his heart. “I won’t breathe a word.”
“I told Dr. Ridley a lie. There is no one else.”
“I see. I wouldn’t have guessed you to be a lying woman, Miss Palmer.”
“I’m not, usually. But when I’m trapped in a buggy with an overzealous silver-haired man who wants to make me his next bride, I’m liable to say anything.”
Stephen chuckled. “I hope that by overzealous, you don’t mean that he did anything inappropriate.”
The Bitter and the Sweet (Kansas Crossroads Book 9) Page 5
