Jane Goodger
Page 14
From the corner of her eye, she spotted Boone crossing the street from the hotel, and she backed away, feeling awkward in front of him. He must think her a terrible flirt, and perhaps worse, because she’d allowed him to kiss her. It had been a lovely kiss, she had to admit, but entirely improper. She was behind the counter before he pushed the door in.
“I’m expecting some supplies today, so I’d appreciate it if you could stay on in the store for a bit more,” he said, not quite meeting her eyes. Apparently he was feeling a bit awkward as well.
“How’s Mr. Benavente?”
“Well enough to complain about my orders to keep him in bed,” he said. He handed her his bag, meeting her eyes for a brief moment. “Could you put this in my office?”
Amelia took the large bag, surprised at the weight of it, and headed back to the office, putting it on his table. When she returned to the store, Boone was still there, a strange look on his face.
And behind him, unaccountably, stood her brother and his new wife.
Edward was so relieved to see his sister seemingly alive and well, he let her water his shoulder for a few seconds before pushing her gently back so he could get a better look at her. Despite her tear-ravaged face, she looked quite well. And her ring finger quite empty.
“Oh, Edward, I’ve missed you so much,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “What are you doing here? How ever did you receive my telegram so quickly?”
“I received no telegram. I came as soon as I realized my errant little sister had forged a particular letter,” he said darkly, and watched as Amelia lowered her head. “And since I don’t see a ring, I’m assuming that you and your Mr. Kitteridge have not yet married. You’ve been here nearly two weeks, now.”
“It seems much longer,” she said, giving him a watery smile. “I sent the telegram so you could send me funds to return home. Anne stole my money, you see.”
“She didn’t,” gasped Maggie.
“She fell in love with a sailor on the ship and stayed in New York City,” Amelia said. “At the time I was happy for her.”
“Why were you coming home?” Edward asked, trying not to let his growing rage show.
Amelia immediately ducked her head again, but not before giving the man standing quietly behind the counter a quick look. “Carson has changed his mind,” she said softly.
Edward felt his entire body stiffen with rage. How dare that man ask for his sister’s hand and then renege?
“Where is Kitteridge?” he barked.
“I’m Boone Kitteridge,” said the tall man standing behind the counter. He held a quiet strength, his gray eyes level and completely emotionless—until they flickered to Amelia. “But I’m assuming you’re looking for my brother, Carson.”
“Indeed I am.”
“He’s not here,” Amelia said quickly, her facing flushing. “It seems there was a terrible misunderstanding.” Edward’s heart wrenched a bit when his sister gave him a brave and tremulous smile. “He never did plan to send for me. I don’t think he ever planned to marry me at all.”
“The hell he isn’t,” Edward said, nearly shouting.
“Edward.” He felt his wife’s gentling hand on his arm. “Let’s find out what happened before we do anything rash.” As always, Maggie’s touch instantly soothed him. “Amelia’s safe and well and that’s all that matters at the moment.”
Just then, Amelia remembered her manners. “Edward, may I introduce Dr. Boone Kitteridge. Boone, my brother, Lord Hollings, and his wife, Lady Margaret Wellesley.”
A doctor? He thought he’d remembered something about Carson’s brother being simple and childlike. Apparently Carson’s mendacity had no bounds.
“Please call me Maggie,” the countess said, smiling. “I keep looking around for someone else in the room when I hear that title.”
“Would this be the same brother Mr. Kitteridge spoke of?” Edward asked.
“Yes.” She looked sheepish.
“On behalf of my brother, I would like to apologize for what’s happened here,” Boone said. “I assure you, Amelia’s been kept safe and well.”
“I shall be the judge of that, Dr. Kitteridge,” Edward said, his voice cool. While he had no issue with Dr. Kitteridge, he very much wanted to throttle the man’s brother. “Is Carson in town?”
“Are you carrying a weapon?” the man asked, seemingly without humor.
“He’s not going to kill him,” Amelia said, then hesitated. “Are you? Oh, Edward, I’m no worse for the wear. We’ll take the next train and be home before we know it, and this will all be behind us.”
Edward gave his sister a sharp look. She couldn’t really be thinking that she could return to England now. Her reputation would be in tatters. Though he would have liked to kill Carson, he knew it would be far better for everyone if the man simply married his little sister as promised.
“I suggest we retire to the estate and discuss this with level heads,” Edward said.
At his words, Boone coughed. He almost appeared as if he were trying not to chuckle.
“Carson wasn’t completely honest about his situation,” Amelia said cautiously.
“What do you mean, Amelia?” Maggie asked, coming to her side and gazing gently at her. Amelia simply dropped her head in abject misery, and Edward watched helplessly as tears splattered onto the cool, red tiles.
“My brother lied about just about everything,” the doctor said, and it seemed to Edward that he was nearly as angry with Carson as Edward was. “There’s no ranch. My brother earns most of his money gambling.”
“Oh, Amelia,” Maggie said, pulling Amelia into her embrace. His sister started sobbing against Maggie’s shoulder, and curiously, the doctor took a step toward the two women before stopping himself.
“I’ll go get Carson,” he muttered, as if the sight of Amelia’s tears had been the last straw. Or perhaps Dr. Kitteridge realized that if Edward found his brother first, he’d beat the living hell out of him. As the doctor passed Amelia, he pressed a handkerchief into her hand, his expression unreadable. It was, no doubt, not the first handkerchief he’d had to give his sister.
Maggie looked up at Edward, clearly feeling the same helpless rage he now felt. Amelia had gotten herself into an untenable situation, one that had no good resolution. She could either stay here and marry a complete cad, or return home and resign herself to spinsterhood. Neither solution seemed sound.
“Do you still love him?” Edward asked, his voice gentle.
Amelia looked at him, the heartbreak clear in her eyes, even as she shook her head angrily. “I hate him,” she said feelingly. “But…” And she began to sob again. “Why did everything have to be such an awful lie? I just want to go home, Edward. Please. Take me home.” Maggie hugged the girl, her own eyes filling with tears.
“Oh, honey, who knows why some men do what they do?” Maggie asked. “Why, your own brother broke my heart. Remember? And now we’re married. Perhaps things will work out with Carson, as well.”
Edward scowled at his beautiful wife, completely unsure whether he wanted things to “work out” with the scoundrel who’d broken his little sister’s heart.
Boone swore beneath his breath with every step he took toward his brother. If he were a different sort of man, he’d probably enjoy seeing the look on Carson’s face when he was informed that his future brother-in-law, an English earl, was in Small Fork. But he was far too concerned for Amelia to care about his little brother at the moment.
He entered the saloon and stalked toward the stairs, not even sparing George a look.
“How’s Ricky?” he asked.
“About the same. But you’d best have Sutter prepare a coffin for my little brother.”
“The two fancies that stepped off the train?” George yelled, then gave the empty stairs a frustrated look. This town had had more excitement in the past weeks than in the five previous years, and he didn’t know what was going on.
Boone opened the door to Geraldine’s ro
om without knocking, took two long strides to his brother, who was still lolling about bed at eleven o’clock in the morning, and grabbed him by his long, greasy hair, hauling him up without a word.
“What the…”
Boone didn’t even let him get out the curse. “Lord Hollings and his lovely wife are in my store. Get your ass dressed and cleaned up and get ready for your wedding, little brother.”
Carson’s answer was to vomit.
“I’m not doing it. They can’t make me. You can’t make a man get married against his will,” Carson said as they crossed the street.
“You can tell that to Lord Hollings,” Boone replied grimly. His brother still reeked of Geraldine’s perfume, but at least his hair was pulled back and his face wasn’t completely grizzled and he did have on a clean shirt. A pure miracle, that was.
Boone walked in ahead of Carson, keeping the door open for him, then shutting it and pulling down the closed sign after him. The earl and countess were standing by Amelia’s side, two angry sentinels staring daggers at his younger brother. Amelia stood between them, looking so sad it tore at Boone’s heart. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks pale, her lips pressed together as if she were fighting tears. Hell, if Hollings didn’t punch his brother, he would. He positioned himself behind the counter, away from the others but close enough should someone need assistance. At the moment, he wasn’t sure whether he would help Lord Hollings beat his brother, or try to stop him.
“Mr. Kitteridge,” Lord Hollings said, his voice clipped, like a pick chipping against ice. “Explain yourself. Explain why my little sister is crying. Explain to me, if you can, why she is not married after you asked for her hand in marriage. Explain to me why you lied about your income, your wealth, even your brother.”
Carson swallowed and Boone would have felt sorry for him if he wasn’t so angry.
“I suppose,” Carson said, drawing out the words. “I’d never seen any girl as pretty as Amelia, and lost my head for a bit.”
To his disgust, Boone saw Amelia’s expression soften, as if she were falling for Carson’s smooth-talking ways.
“And your heart? Did you lose that as well?” This from the countess.
Carson didn’t hesitate. “No, ma’am. No.”
Amelia let out a little sound and Boone flinched.
“I didn’t send for her. She came on her own,” Carson said, losing his apologetic tone.
“I’m quite aware of that,” Lord Hollings said. “However, it was also clear that the two of you had an understanding. Amelia believed in her heart that she was traveling to Texas to marry her fiancé. She informed everyone she knew of this fact. She cannot return to England and hope to live anything like a normal life. She is, to put it perfectly clear, ruined.”
“But that’s not true,” Amelia said, her eyes wide with disbelief. “I’ll simply say that…that…”
“What? That you traveled to Texas, unescorted, and then were spurned by this man? What do you think society will say or think? You’ve been here for two weeks, Amelia, two weeks without a proper chaperone. It doesn’t matter if you’ve behaved properly or not, the appearance of it all is extremely damaging.”
“I don’t care.”
Lord Hollings let out a puff of frustration, and Boone was, frankly, surprised that he seemed to be trying to convince Amelia to marry Carson, despite knowing he’d lied about nearly everything.
“But you will care when you are not invited anywhere, not even by your friends. You will care when you see their children, their homes, their lives, while you will be a spinster with a sullied past.” Lord Hollings took a breath. “I blame myself. I never should have allowed him to court you. I should have listened to my instincts. I am to blame, and I will have this fixed.”
Amelia shook her head, denying everything her brother said. “It is my fault, and I alone will suffer the consequences. I don’t want to marry. I just want to go home.”
“Amelia,” Maggie said softly. “You say that now, but someday you will feel differently. There will be stories about you, most of them unkind. I know what it’s like to pretend none of it matters, but once you are tied to scandal, it is impossible to escape. And it hurts, terribly so. I can tell you truthfully that I never would have married if I’d remained in this country. You must know that no respectable family will allow their son to court you now. I know it seems terribly cruel to say to you when you’ve done nothing worse than follow your heart, but you cannot believe it will all just disappear.” The countess gave Carson a pleading look. “Surely, the two of you must share something upon which you can build a marriage.”
Carson looked on, a growing expression of panic on his face. “I’m sorry for what I did. I didn’t mean for her to come here. It was all a big mistake,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion. “But I can tell you that I’m not getting married. I’m just not, an’ you can’t make me.”
Amelia’s face tightened and Boone’s gut wrenched. How could his brother be so cruel?
“Well, someone is going to bloody hell marry my sister, by God,” Lord Hollings shouted, and Amelia squeezed her eyes shut as if in pain.
Boone stared at his brother’s mulish expression, at the raw despair on Amelia’s face, and opened his mouth, truly not knowing what he was going to say until he said it.
“I’ll marry her.”
Chapter 10
Four sets of eyes turned to Boone in disbelief, and Boone wished he’d just kept his damned mouth shut.
“Oh, Boone,” Amelia said, clearly angry. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Carson let out a bark of laughter, quickly stifled, and Boone could feel his cheeks flush with almost painful humiliation. What a fool he was to say such a thing.
“My outburst was meant to be rhetorical,” Lord Hollings said thoughtfully.
“I was just…I don’t know what I was thinking,” Boone said, nearly wincing at how absurd he sounded.
“Boone saves things,” Amelia said, staring at him. “He has a three-legged dog and a one-eyed cat. He’s nice.” She said the last as if it were some sort of horrible affliction. All Boone felt was intense relief that Amelia hadn’t taken his proposal seriously, that she’d thought he was simply trying to save her from a desperate situation. It would be far worse if she knew the truth.
“Nice is good,” the countess said, looking amused.
“I don’t need saving,” Amelia said, even though everyone in the room would’ve disagreed.
“I think we’ve discussed the situation enough for now. This is all quite unexpected, and we’re all tired. At least I am,” the countess said. “Could you direct us to the nearest accommodation, Dr. Kitteridge? We can stay wherever Amelia has been staying.”
Boone nearly grimaced. He didn’t want to admit that Amelia was staying in his home, for no doubt that would seem exceedingly inappropriate. At the moment, though, he didn’t have a choice. “I’ve been staying at the hotel; Amelia’s been staying here.”
“In a store? Alone?” the countess asked.
“I have an apartment out back. And she did have a chaperone while Carson was here.”
“She quit,” Amelia grumbled. “She didn’t like me.”
“Dulce doesn’t like anyone,” Carson put in cheerfully. All he got for his comment was a collective glare from everyone in the room.
“You’ve been staying in a single man’s home alone?” Lord Hollings asked, then wiped a hand over his face as if this bit of news was simply more than he could take.
“It’s been completely proper,” Amelia said. “Well, not completely. But as proper as we could make it without throwing Boone out of his home entirely.”
Boone wanted to remind her of the kiss, but didn’t think she’d much appreciate his input at the moment.
“Boone would never touch Amelia,” Carson said.
While Boone was somewhat gratified by his brother’s defense, his manhood didn’t appreciate the blow. “My point is,” Boone said forcefully, “that the hotel i
s completely unsuitable. It only has three rooms, and one of those is occupied. I would be happy to have you stay in my home until you leave on Tuesday.”
“That’s when the next train departs,” Amelia put in rather mournfully.
“Well, if you’re all done here, I’ll be headin’ back to the hotel,” Carson said heartily.
“I’m not done with you, sir,” Lord Hollings said.
Carson tilted his hat back on his head, and although he still smiled, his eyes had grown hard. “I’m done,” he said, jabbing a thumb against his own chest. “You understand? I’m done.” Lord Hollings stared after him with mute, helpless rage.
“By God, he’s lucky we’re not still in England,” he said. He stood with his fists clenched, his entire body taut as if he were straining to hold himself back from murder.
“This is a disaster,” the countess said, looking worriedly at Amelia. “I feel I should accept some of the blame, as well. This is far worse than I imagined.”
Lord Hollings abruptly turned to Boone, who watched as Amelia fell into her sister-in-law’s embrace, fresh tears falling down her face. “Was that proposal serious?” he asked.
“No!” Amelia shouted.
“Yes, sir, it was,” Boone said quietly.
“No, Boone. I won’t let you. I won’t marry you. I don’t love you, and you don’t love me. I’m not even certain I like you.” She smiled to temper her words, but it did little to ease the meaning behind them.
Boone clenched his jaw and pretended her words didn’t wound him, but hell, they did tear a bit at his heart.
“Where can we have a private conversation?” Lord Hollings asked.
Amelia stood clutching Maggie, feeling completely helpless as her life spiraled away from her. “This can’t be happening,” she whispered. “I just want to go home. Why won’t you let me go home?”
It was as if she hadn’t spoken. Her brother followed Boone out of the room and at that moment, she hated both men. Her brother for taking Boone’s proposal seriously, and Boone for making it. She could never be happy here.