by Kit Morgan
“Of course,” he told her.
Oh. So it was all part of the ruse. He must really be trying to drive it home to his family that he wasn’t interested in Bernice. “Fine. I will join you for dinner.”
“Great. Now let’s look at some books.”
* * *
Morgan left the bookshop less than satisfied. Daisy had hardly uttered a word after she accepted his dinner invitation. Was she nervous about it? Once Winnie had showed up, Daisy was all too ready to go home. He couldn’t understand it. He said he wanted to take care of her, look after her … what more did she want? No matter, perhaps she’d be more receptive to him at dinner.
Speaking of which, he’d best put that plan into action straightaway. He’d invited her on a whim, thinking it would be nice to have a romantic evening. He’d finally met a woman who took an interest in his dream of going to Africa, and it thrilled him that she’d advised him of a way to achieve it. That alone convinced him he’d made the right choice to go ahead and court her. He wanted to talk more with her, to see what she’d think about going on such an adventure, but then she’d gone silent, and then Winnie had shown up and that was that. Not even Professor Hamilton could offer him advice or even a book on the mystery and behavior of women. He said one hadn’t been written yet …
Morgan strolled up to the Vanders’ gate, unhooked the latch and went through. But after closing the gate behind him, he didn’t walk to the front door. Instead he went around the back to the servants’ entrance.
Betsy saw him coming and answered the door. “Why, Morgan Tindle, what brings you to my kitchen?”
“I need a favor, Betsy.”
“What’s her name?”
Morgan’s brow furrowed. “How did you know this involved a woman?”
“I knew when you boys came home, the girls would follow. Besides, it’s all over town about you and Bernice. Is that for real?”
“No, it most certainly isn’t.”
“Mm-hmm, I figured. A man’d have to be crazy to wanna court that girl – not to mention deal with her mama. So what do you need?”
He took a deep breath. “A romantic dinner for Miss Evers and myself. A private one.”
Betsy’s eyebrows headed for the ceiling. “You want me to arrange a romantic dinner for you and the mail-order bride you jilted?” she asked incredulously.
“Jilted? I…”
“You jilted her plain and simple, then up and decided to marry that Bernice Caulder. That’s the news around town.”
Morgan crossed his arms. “Please tell me that you know better than to believe the ‘news around town’.”
“I do now. ‘Specially since I also heard that you were going to meet Miss Evers at the bookshop today. Did you?”
Morgan was flabbergasted. “How do you find out these things?”
“I work for a gossip – how else do you think I find out?”
“Oh yes, Mrs. Vander. How could I forget?”
“Mrs. Vander?” Betsy said with a laugh. “No, I was talking about Mr. Vander.”
“Horace Vander is a gossip?!”
“The worst,” Betsy said with a shake of her head. “That’s how he became mayor – he knows everything about everybody. Come inside and tell me what you have in mind.”
Morgan followed her into the Vanders’ massive kitchen and sat at the worktable with Betsy. “The truth is that I was originally going to use Miss Evers to help me thwart my aunt’s attempts to play matchmaker with Bernice.”
“Originally,” Betsy repeated. “So something’s changed?”
Morgan shook his head in disbelief. “Yes, I think it has. I’ve been realizing that what I’d planned was wrong – it wasn’t fair to Miss Evers. Then Garrett and Julian started eyeing her, and …”
“… and you discovered you were jealous.”
“Something like that,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “And as part of the ruse, I offered Miss Evers a job in the mercantile …”
“… only to have your aunt beat you to the punch,” Betsy finished. “Which, if you don’t mind my saying, has been a disaster. Bernice don’t know where anything is!”
“Yes,” he sighed. “I know. So now I also have to get Bernice out, and Daisy in.”
Betsy noticed he’d used Daisy’s Christian name, and smiled to herself. “So what does all this have to do with a romantic dinner?”
“That’s just it. I decided that I really would like to get to know her, and now I’m looking for ways to do that.”
“What have you done so far?”
“I had dinner with her at Pastor Luke’s house, and today we met at the bookshop.”
“How did that go?”
“Not well. She doesn’t seem to be very receptive to the idea. She was fine when we were pretending, but now that it’s for real, I don’t think she … well, I …” He sighed again. “I suppose I don’t blame her.”
“She doesn’t want to marry you?”
“It looks that way. I thought that a nice quiet dinner might help my cause.”
“Mm-hmm. Okay, let me see what I can do. Where were you thinking of holding this evening of romance?”
“That’s where I need your help. I haven’t got a clue.”
Betsy sat and thought a moment. “I might know a place.”
“Is it romantic?”
“It could be. It’s dark, and would look nice in candlelight. It’s also quiet; you wouldn’t be disturbed, that’s for sure, and you wouldn’t be alone… exactly.”
“You’ll chaperone, then?”
“I’d be one of ‘em, I guess,” Betsy muttered under her breath.
Morgan stood, took Betsy’s hand and shook it vigorously. “Betsy, you’re the best! I knew I could count on you!”
“Mm-hmm. Now let’s see if you can count on Daisy.”
Fourteen
Daisy stared at herself in the mirror. Her reflection was less than enthusiastic about her upcoming dinner with Morgan. “Why did I agree to this?” she asked, resting her hands on the vanity and leaning toward the glass.
“Because you like him,” the girl in the mirror replied.
Daisy turned away and walked to the bed. “Yes, I do.” She tossed a hairbrush onto the mattress and sat. “I think I’m starting to more than just like him.”
She threw her face in her hands and mumbled through her fingers. “Why? Why is this happening? I’m not supposed to like him. If I do, he’ll just …” She picked the brush up, put it down again. “… he’ll just leave me and break my heart. And I can’t let that happen.”
She flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Lord, what am I going to do? He’s handsome and smart and he wants to go to Africa. Who wouldn’t want a man like that?”
Sighing loudly, she looked at the door. It was time to go. She got up, set the brush back on the vanity, grabbed the shawl Winnie had loaned her and headed downstairs.
“You look beautiful!” Winnie said as she admired Daisy. “I knew that dress would look good on you.”
Daisy fingered the delicate lace that ran down the bodice. “It’s lovely – thank you for letting me wear it.”
“Yellow is one of my favorite colors, and it goes well with your red hair. Now Morgan will be here any minute. Do you know who he’s chosen as a chaperone?”
“No, you’ll have to ask him when he gets here.”
“Well, it certainly can’t be Julian or Garrett, and I can’t imagine him asking his aunt or parents what with everything that’s been going on. Hmmm, I wonder who it could be.”
A knock sounded at the door, making both women jump. “Oh heavens,” Daisy gasped.
Winnie giggled as she walked to the door. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? You don’t look very excited …”
“I’ll be fine.”
Winnie shrugged and swung the door open. Morgan stood on the other side, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Good evening, Morgan.”
“Good evening, Mrs. Adams,” he said
, his eyes searching for Daisy. Their gazes locked and he gave her a warm smile. “And a special good evening to you. You look wonderful!” He stepped inside and held up the bouquet. “I brought these for you. I hope you like them.”
Like them? She loved them! No one had ever given her flowers before! “Thank you,” she whispered as she took them.
“I was hoping Mr. Peterson would have daisies, but … not this late in the year, he said.”
“Oh Morgan, they’re beautiful. What an extravagance.” Winnie turned and waggled her eyebrows at Daisy. “You must want tonight to be very special.”
Morgan smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets. If Daisy didn’t know any better, she’d swear the man was blushing. “They are lovely,” she agreed. “Thank you.”
“Winnie, will you put those in some water for her?” he asked.
“Of course, right away,” she said as she reached for the bouquet. “Oh, Morgan?”
“I know what you’re going to ask – it’s Betsy.”
“Mrs. Vander’s maid?” Winnie said with a laugh. “Perfect!”
“Betsy?” Daisy said.
“Our chaperone for this evening,” Morgan explained. “Trust me, you’ll love her.”
“Indeed you will,” Winnie agreed. “She’s the one we were talking about the other day, whose pie recipe you used?”
Daisy handed the flowers to Winnie. “Where is she?”
“She’s outside waiting for us. Shall we go?” He held out his arm.
Daisy gave Winnie one last look, coupled with a weak smile, then turned and took Morgan’s arm. Their evening was about to begin, and Daisy prayed she would make it through without falling completely in love with him.
* * *
“Where are we?” Daisy asked as Morgan followed Betsy down a back alley.
“I’m not sure,” answered Morgan. “In fact, I’m not entirely sure where we’re going.” He pulled Daisy along by the hand and caught up with Betsy, who was walking ahead of them at a rapid pace. “Just where are you taking us?”
Betsy came to an abrupt stop and turned. “You wanted someplace quiet, peaceful and dark, right?”
“Yes, but why are we traipsing down a back alley?” Morgan asked.
“You don’t want Julian and Garrett to see you, do you?”
She had a point, Morgan thought. If he and Daisy were out anywhere and his two friends caught wind of it, he wouldn’t put it past them to show up, just as they had at Pastor Luke’s house. “All right,” he told their guide. “Lead the way.”
Betsy gave them a mischievous grin, turned, and continued on. They stopped at the door of a building at the end of the alley. Betsy knocked on it three times. A knock from the other side of the door sounded twice. Betsy knocked twice.
“What are you doing?” Morgan asked, bemused. “Knocking in code?”
Betsy looked over her shoulder at him. “Mm-hmm,” she said, as if it should’ve been obvious. The door opened, and they followed her inside.
Morgan looked around as they took a short set of stairs down into a dark room. “I can’t see a thing. Don’t tell me we’re where I think we are.”
“You wanted quiet and dark, I got you quiet and dark,” Betsy said definitively.
“Morgan?” There was worry in Daisy’s voice.
Morgan could barely see her face. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “We’re here.”
As if to confirm it, a match was struck, and Betsy lit some candles. A long narrow table sat in one corner of the room with a beautiful lace covering and candelabra at one end. Betsy finished lighting the candles then turned and smiled at the couple. “Dinner will be served momentarily,” she said and gave them a small curtsy, then disappeared into the shadows.
Morgan looked around nervously. He knew where they were, but didn’t dare tell Daisy. How could Betsy do such a thing? Thankfully, the candelabra didn’t light the room enough to let Daisy see past their immediate surroundings …
He led her to the table and pulled out a chair for her. She sat and stared at the beautiful lace tablecloth and pretty china. He took his own seat across from her. “Well … here we are, just the two of us.” But he couldn’t help looking around nervously.
“Where exactly are we?” Daisy asked as she studied the room.
Morgan laughed, and hoped he didn’t sound too worried. “I do believe we’re in … well … we’re under a business.”
“Is this a basement?”
“Uh, yes,” he said, hoping to reassure her – and himself. “A basement.”
“Seems an odd place for a dinner, don’t you think?”
He was about to tell her that he’d let Betsy make the arrangements, but decided against it. “I wanted someplace where we could be alone, not to mention someplace romantic. Don’t you think this is romantic?”
She glanced around. “It’s a beautiful table. What’s that I smell?”
Morgan stiffened in his chair and took a tentative sniff. Thankfully, he only smelled meat cooking. His shoulders slumped in relief. “Dinner. Smells wonderful, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said as she fingered a spoon. “It does.” She then looked at him with a helplessness he did not understand. He was beginning to feel her slipping away from him, and he didn’t like it.
They sat in silence for a few moments before Betsy reappeared and served the soup. As soon as she disappeared again, Morgan clasped his hands in front of him for the blessing. “Dear Lord, thank you for this meal and this fine evening together …”
Thump.
Morgan and Daisy both looked up. “What was that?” she asked.
“Must be the people upstairs.”
She looked at the ceiling overheard, then at him. “And who would that be?”
“Er … I’m not quite sure.”
“Not sure? You mean you don’t know where we are? Whose business this is?” She looked around again. “What business is this?”
Morgan quickly bowed his head again. “Thank you Lord for this food may you bless it to our bodies amen.” His head snapped up. “Try the soup, I bet it’s wonderful.” He was going to kill Betsy for this …
Daisy shrugged and picked up her spoon, as did Morgan. Silence again hung over them, and he scrambled to think of what to say between mouthfuls. “I’ve been thinking about the suggestion you gave me earlier.”
She looked up from her soup. “Which one was that?”
“The one about saving up my money to go to Africa.”
“Oh yes, that one. Have you decided anything?”
“Yes, I decided that I should start saving now, and take it in five-year increments.” She smiled at his words, and his heart skipped a beat. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he had to fight the urge to get up, walk around the table, take her in his arms and kiss her. Instead he took another sip of soup.
When they’d finished, Betsy returned and gathered up their bowls, vanished again, then returned with the main course. Daisy stared at the plate she set before her. “What is this?”
Betsy smiled. “Roast quail.” With that, she turned and left again.
“Roast quail?” Daisy whispered in astonishment. “I’ve never had anything like this before.”
“You haven’t?”
“Have you?”
“Yes, folks hunt them around here. And I had it a few times when I was in college back east. Go ahead, try it.”
She cut off a small piece and slowly raised her fork to her mouth. Morgan watched in fascination as she started to chew. His own mouth went completely dry. At this rate, he wasn’t sure he could make it through dinner without kissing her.
“This is good,” she said.
He smiled at the sound of pleasure in her voice. He supposed he owed Betsy for this after all. “I’m glad you like it.”
They ate and talked about little things, nothing of substance. Morgan was getting the distinct feeling she was trying to give him as little information about her as she could. By the same token
, she wasn’t quizzing him on much of anything either. Didn’t she want to know about him?
All too soon, the meal was over and Betsy was bringing their coffee and some sort of chocolate concoction for dessert.
“Betsy, this is delicious!” Daisy said after her first spoonful. “What is it?”
“They call it chocolate mousse. It’s a fancy dessert.” Betsy looked right at Morgan. “For fancy folks.” She grinned again and disappeared.
Daisy smiled. “I must say, Betsy is quite the character. No wonder everyone loves her.”
Morgan looked around the room and grimaced. “Yes, everyone. Did you enjoy the meal?”
She dabbed at her lips with her napkin. It about did Morgan in. “Yes, it was delicious. I’ve never had such a fine meal. Thank you.”
Morgan smiled and felt his chest puff out with pride. “I’m glad you liked it, Daisy. I’d like to be able to do a lot more for you than just provide a dinner.”
She stared at him blankly, as if she’d just hidden herself behind some impenetrable wall. “Getting me the job we agreed upon will suffice.”
“Of course. I plan to do that, just as soon as this mess with Bernice is cleared up. Now, about Thanksgiving …”
“Yes, about that,” she said and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but … I don’t think I should make Thanksgiving dinner for you.
He sat back in his chair. “What? Why not?”
She looked at him across the table and took a deep breath. “Morgan, I know what we agreed upon, and the job at the mercantile was important to me, but …”
“What are you saying?”
She let out her breath. “I’m saying that maybe… I shouldn’t work there. I mean, I know we had a deal, but who knows when your aunt is going to leave town, and Bernice…”
“I don’t care about my aunt, or Bernice,” he said. “I want you working with me. I want you at my side.”
She looked like she was about to cry with her next words. “I don’t … I can’t …”
“Daisy, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head as the tears started to fall. “I just can’t, Morgan!” She got up and fled the room.
* * *
