Jen Turano - [Ladies of Distinction 02]

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Jen Turano - [Ladies of Distinction 02] Page 24

by A Most Peculiar Circumstance


  “From what I saw this morning, I think you’re very well-suited indeed.”

  “He’s old-fashioned, and I’m . . . not.”

  “That’s why compromise is so lovely.”

  The conversation was quickly turning dangerous.

  “Well, I must be off,” Ethel said. She jumped lightly from the bed and headed for the door before Arabella had a chance to think of a proper response to Ethel’s compromise statement. Ethel turned when she reached the door. “The bath is just through there, dear, and you’ll find everything you need on the shelves.” She reached for the doorknob, paused again, and looked over her shoulder. “My grandson seems very possessive of you.”

  Arabella swallowed. “Does he?”

  “Hmm, yes, he does. It’s rather peculiar.”

  “Is it?”

  Ethel smiled. “Yes, it is, especially since you’re so adamant that the two of you don’t suit.” Ethel turned on her heel and disappeared through the door.

  Having no idea what to make of that, Arabella pushed aside the covers, swung her legs off the bed, and headed for the bath, hoping a good soak in the tub would clear her thoughts.

  One hour later, Arabella finished toweling her hair dry and leaned forward to peer into the mirror. She pinched her cheeks, even though they were still rosy from her bath, and fluffed her hair with her fingers, stilling when she realized what she was doing.

  She was primping.

  She never primped unless she was going out for an evening.

  Her eyes widened. Good heavens, she was primping for Theodore.

  She bit her lip. Did she want to impress him? Was that even possible?

  She released a huff of exasperation at her ridiculous thoughts, got up from the vanity seat, and smoothed down the wool dress Ethel had left for her. Surprisingly enough, it fit rather well.

  She couldn’t resist giving her reflection one last glance, patting her hair once again, and then rolling her eyes.

  Theodore probably wouldn’t even notice the extra time she’d taken with her appearance.

  Ethel thought he seemed possessive.

  Her pulse sped up at that thought, but then she took a deep breath and shook her head. She might be attracted to him, but except for a strange look in his eyes every now and again when he watched her, he’d given her no reason to believe he found her charming instead of annoying.

  They were too different, and she would do well to remember that.

  Ethel and George had been completely different from each other, and Ethel had admitted they’d fought all the time when they’d first met.

  Ethel had longed to bash George over the head on numerous occasions.

  They shared a love that was not often seen.

  “You’re not Ethel, and Theodore’s not George,” she said to the reflection staring back at her. She turned on her heel and marched from the room, making her way down the stairs and looking in one room after another.

  “In here, dear,” Ethel’s voice called.

  Arabella strode down a long hallway, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. She stepped through the door and her butterflies disappeared.

  Theodore was nowhere in sight.

  “You look enchanting,” Ethel exclaimed, waving her over with a flick of her hand. Her gaze swept over Arabella, and then the gleam returned to her eyes.

  “Well-suited or not, my dear, if you continue to look like this, my grandson will have no choice but to fall madly in love with you. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if he proposed before the week is out.”

  18

  Theodore rested his hands on the porch railing, taking a moment to enjoy the way the sunlight glistened off the mounds of snow blanketing the scenery. The snow had stopped falling three days before and the temperature had begun to rise, but they were still relatively buried in, a circumstance that had made it impossible for him and his guests to leave the farm since they’d arrived a week ago.

  He lifted his eyes to the sky and drew in a deep breath, a feeling of contentment flowing through him.

  He’d never been a man who enjoyed the quiet, but now it almost seemed as if God had sent the storm just for him, to force him to slow down and get to know the real Arabella.

  She was completely different from what he’d first imagined.

  She was vibrant and caring.

  She’d insisted on helping around the farm and had quickly proven she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. She’d fed cows, shoveled snow to clear a path to the pasture, and had even shown a strange appreciation for the chicken coop.

  She was a most unusual lady.

  He turned from the quiet scene in front of him and moved into the house, taking a moment to shuck off his boots before heading down the hallway. He set his sights on the library and increased his pace, hoping he’d find Arabella in what she’d declared was her favorite room of the house.

  He paused in the doorway as his gaze immediately went to Arabella, who was snuggled down in a cozy chair. A thick blanket was tucked around her, and she had abandoned the latest novel she was reading on the floor beside her.

  She was sleeping.

  She was beautiful when she slept.

  He took a step into the room, his eyes never leaving her face. Long, sooty lashes rested against her cheeks, and her curly blond hair was tousled and unbound, tempting him with the sudden urge to smooth it back into place.

  He could no longer ignore the fact he was falling a little in love with her. He had spent the past week almost entirely in her company, and being in constant contact with Arabella Beckett was something he’d enjoyed more than anything he’d ever enjoyed in his life.

  He’d known she was intelligent but had mistakenly thought that intelligence made her hard.

  He couldn’t have been more wrong.

  She had a razor-sharp wit, one she’d used effectively to promote her cause, but the time he’d spent with her lately had shown him that she could converse quite easily about almost anything.

  His grandfather had taken to baiting her on a variety of different subjects, from women’s rights to politics in Washington to even the horrible conditions of the immigrants who resided in the slums of New York. Arabella was never without an opinion, but she’d surprised him in that she didn’t always insist on being right. She was more interested in what George said than in winning every argument.

  His grandparents were completely in love with her. He was fairly certain he was rapidly going the same way, but . . . he had no idea if she returned his sentiments, nor did he know how to go about the business of allowing her to learn he felt affection for her.

  It was a most peculiar circumstance.

  He’d never had difficulties with ladies before, but Arabella was different.

  A loud snore from the opposite side of the library attracted his attention. He pulled his gaze away from Arabella, walked farther into the room, and grinned when the sight of his grandmother met his eyes.

  Ethel was stretched out on the settee in front of the fire, covered in blankets, her head resting on a cushioned pillow, and she was snoring . . . quite loudly. He shook his head. It was little wonder his grandmother was tired; they’d been staying up late every night, laughing and talking and playing games. No one ever seemed to want to seek their beds, and he knew he would cherish forever this time he’d spent with his grandparents.

  Not only did it seem to him that God had allowed him an opportunity to relax, God had also given him an opportunity to appreciate the small things that made up his life.

  He’d never taken himself for a man of deep faith, but being around Arabella—a lady who seemed to spend a lot of time praying and discussing matters of God with his grandmother—had somehow changed his whole perception of things.

  A snuffling sound, and then a snort, erupted behind him, and he glanced away from his grandmother and looked to Arabella again, his heart oddly aching as he noticed her mouth had dropped open and a noise that sounded somewhat like a saw was now escaping her l
ips.

  She was adorable. There was no other way to describe her.

  “That’s a sound you don’t hear all that often,” George said with a chuckle as he strode into the room and stopped by Theodore’s side. “Who knew that such awful noise could be produced by such angelic creatures?”

  Theodore grinned. “I think their snores are shaking the house.”

  Ethel stirred on the couch, opened her eyes, sat up, and discreetly wiped her mouth, causing Theodore’s grin to widen when he realized she’d been drooling.

  “My goodness but that child can make a lot of noise while she’s sleeping,” Ethel said with a nod toward Arabella.

  George tilted his head. “You’ve got yourself a special lady there, Theodore.”

  Arabella’s eyes took that moment to flash open. She blinked a few times, pushed the blanket off herself, and stretched. “Why are all of you watching me?”

  “You were snoring,” Ethel said.

  “And you couldn’t find something more entertaining to do to pass the time than watch me?”

  Theodore moved closer to her. “I was passing my time watching my grandmother snore before she woke up.”

  The corners of Arabella’s lips twitched.

  Ethel shifted on the settee. “I don’t snore.”

  “She’s been snoring since I met her,” George said. He walked across the room and sat down by his wife, taking her hand in his. “I find it one of your most endearing qualities.”

  “Oh no, here they go again,” Theodore muttered.

  A look that seemed almost wistful flickered across Arabella’s face. “I find them charming.”

  He found her charming.

  He opened his mouth to tell her so, uncertain if it was the proper time or if she’d even be receptive to hearing him tell her something so personal, but before he could find the right words, the sound of wheels crunching through the snow met his ears.

  He stood there for just a moment, and then his feet began to move as he realized that something had to be wrong. The roads were barely passable, and no one in their right mind would come to pay a social call. He reached the front door and, as an added precaution, pulled his gun from its holster, yanking the door open. He froze.

  “I realize you were annoyed with me the last time we saw each other, Theodore, but I don’t think that’s cause to shoot me,” Katherine said as she climbed out of the carriage.

  “What are you doing here?” Theodore asked, shoving his pistol back in the holster and heading outside to greet the visitors.

  “She insisted we bring her so she could help your grandmother decorate the house for Christmas,” Louise said before she jumped lightly to the ground and looked back over her shoulder. “Samuel, darling, be a dear and grab that basket. It’s got those cookies I made for your father in it.”

  Ethel edged up beside Theodore. “Did Louise just call Samuel ‘darling’?”

  “Just wait,” Katherine said, stepping forward to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “Daddy’s a new man. Ever since he brought me home from jail, he’s taken to wooing Mother.”

  “He’s wooing Mother?” Theodore asked weakly.

  “As I said, he’s a new man,” Katherine said. “I almost returned home to Harold at one point—not that I’m remotely ready to take him back—because our parents have been behaving in a rather interesting fashion. They can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, and at times I felt as if I were the parent and they the naughty children. They’ve been giggling all over the house.”

  Ethel’s eyes sparkled. “How delightful.”

  “Mother,” Samuel called, his head popping out of the carriage, “I hope you don’t mind this unexpected visit. Katherine’s been longing to see you, and I couldn’t refuse her request.” He exited the carriage, took Louise’s arm, and strolled up the walk. “Here,” he said, handing the basket to Theodore. “Your mother made cookies. I helped.”

  “I didn’t realize you still cooked,” Theodore said. He took the basket and leaned forward to kiss his mother’s cheek.

  Louise beamed at him. “Samuel and I went to a special church meeting the other night, once the snow began to melt, and Reverend Fraser made mention of the fact they needed treats for a charity sale. Your father reminded me that everyone always loved my cookies. I volunteered to donate a few batches, and when Katherine told us she was dying to come here, I thought I might as well whip some up for George. I do hope he still has that sweet tooth of his.”

  Ethel gestured to the carriage. “How long are you planning on staying? That’s quite a bit of luggage tied to the top.”

  “Oh, we shouldn’t be here too long,” Samuel said. “We have numerous Christmas parties to attend, including Mrs. Murdock’s famous Christmas ball.” He winked at Theodore. “Mrs. Murdock personally requested your presence, son. I have a feeling she’s set her sights on you as a potential son-in-law.”

  Katherine grinned. “Poor Felicia was mortified when her mother kept going on and on about you, Theodore.” Her grin widened. “For some reason, I got the feeling that the mere idea of forming an alliance with you terrified the lady.”

  “Well, of course that notion would terrify Miss Murdock,” Louise said. “She’s very shy, and Theodore is known to be a gregarious sort.” She reached out and patted his cheek. “I do believe I might have been mistaken when I told you she’d make you a suitable wife.” She lowered her voice. “From what Katherine has insinuated, your interest lies elsewhere. Miss Murdock will be very relieved to discover she doesn’t need to worry about you courting her.”

  Theodore turned to his sister. “What insinuations have you been insinuating?”

  Katherine sent him a cheeky grin, grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the house. “Now, don’t start brooding, Theodore,” she said as she shrugged out of her coat in the foyer and hung it on a hook by the door. “You must have realized I’d put two and two together and figure out why you’d been asking me so many questions about Arabella, and oh . . .” She gestured out the open door. “Speaking of Arabella, we brought two trunks stuffed with her clothing. Mrs. Beckett told me you’d absconded with her daughter after you dumped her clothing on the floor and stuffed her into her own traveling trunk.” She laughed. “I’m fairly certain Arabella couldn’t have been too thrilled about that, darling brother. You might want to reconsider your wooing efforts.”

  Theodore swallowed a laugh, but then sobered when the ramifications of what she’d said sunk in. “You’re aware of the fact Arabella’s here?”

  “Of course. Gloria told me. I went to check on Arabella once the roads cleared, and imagine my surprise when I found out you’d spirited her out of the city.”

  “So much for my undercover operation.”

  “I didn’t tell anyone, and Gloria only told me because I mentioned I wanted to take a few days and visit my grandparents. Once she understood I was coming here, she thought Arabella just might appreciate having some of her clothes.” Katherine suddenly punched him in the arm, causing him to wince. “Speaking of your undercover operation, you should have sent us a note regarding the fact that you sent some of your men to watch over me. I almost shot one unfortunate gentleman in the middle of Broadway yesterday.” She gave a delicate shudder. “I was certain he was up to no good as he dogged my every step. Luckily for him, Eliza was with me and recognized him as one of the men who’d helped with her little situation a few months back. If she hadn’t stepped in, I’m afraid the man might now be sporting a rather large hole in his body.”

  Theodore frowned. “What was his name?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Once Eliza realized he was one of yours, I let him go about his business.”

  “He must not have been doing a very good job of staying unnoticed if he drew your attention.”

  “He was quite stealthy, but you’re forgetting, I learned all about subterfuge under your tutelage. Of course I’m able to detect if someone’s following me. If I weren’t, you’d be a fairly horrible private
investigator.”

  “She does have a point,” George said, stepping around Theodore to pull Katherine into an enthusiastic hug. He squeezed her tightly and then stepped back, his eyes twinkling. “I heard tell you’ve run into a little difficulty with that husband of yours, dear.”

  “Harold and I are currently not seeing eye to eye on matters, Grandfather. I’ve been staying with Mother and Father this past week, and to tell you the truth, I doubt Harold even cares that I left him.” Her cheeks turned red. “He certainly hasn’t made an attempt to get me back.”

  “That’s not true,” Louise said as she breezed through the door with Ethel at her side and stopped beside Katherine. “He did try to get your attention by throwing that rather large rock at the window. It was unfortunate he ended up breaking the glass. It was clear to me the desperate man had no idea what to do after that fiasco. I think he tried to flee so we wouldn’t know it was him, but what with the deep snow and all, he simply sort of trudged away.”

  Katherine laughed. “It was not one of his finer moments, and we haven’t heard anything from him since, which is fine with me.” She turned to Ethel. “I hope you don’t mind we’ve descended on you with no notice, Grandmother. I’ve always enjoyed helping you decorate for Christmas. I realize the holiday is still a few weeks away, but I’m hopeful you’ll indulge me and decorate early.” She bit her lip. “I was also hoping, as we decorate, that you might be convinced to part with some of your invaluable advice. I’ve probably never mentioned it before, but I do cherish your counsel.”

  Ethel looked positively delighted. “That is quite the nicest thing you’ve said to me in years, Katherine, and I would love to help you sort out your troubles.” She leaned closer and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I have to imagine Arabella will enjoy having you in the house as well. She’s been stuck with your grandfather and Theodore for a week now, and they’ve taken to having rousing debates, which I’ve refused to enter.”

  Katherine grinned. “Where is Arabella?”

 

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