Wildfire Love

by Rue Allyn

  She looked at him, astonished.

  Before he could yield to overwhelming anger at her injury, he kissed her.

  • • •

  The kiss made her head spin. One-handed, she grasped James’s lapel for balance. She would have looped her other arm around his neck, but that palm still had a splinter of glass stuck in the heel.

  The arm beneath her knees slid away to circle her waist as her legs dropped. He slanted his head, increasing the pressure on her mouth. She opened to him. The dizziness she’d suffered in her fury at Damato was nothing to the vortex of sensation that invaded her with the skillful strokes of James’s tongue. Only her grip on his coat and his arm around her waist kept her from slipping senseless to the floor.

  Gently he lowered her, and too soon, she felt a solid surface beneath her toes.

  James swept his lips in a gentle caress across her own, then lifted his head.

  Still off balance, she stood within his arms and stared at his mouth.

  “Where are you hurt?”

  She lifted her injured hand and turned her gaze on it.

  The wound hadn’t bled much, but the glass sliver gleamed wickedly beneath a translucent layer of skin.

  “I’ll take you to the dispensary.”

  “I’m not certain I’m steady enough to walk that far.” Her voice shook much more than she liked, and she swayed in his arms. “I need to sit down.”

  He took one look at her, pressed his lips together and then hauled her up into his arms again.

  The room spun, and they were halfway down the stairs before she realized he intended to carry her all the way to the dispensary.

  “James, please, you cannot carry me through a public street.”

  “You’re hurt. I can and will carry you anywhere I wish.”

  “You’ll compromise me. Is that what you want—a bride forced to marry you for the sake of convention?”

  He paused at the bottom of the steps and studied her. “The idea has some appeal. However, since you have already denied me for a much more serious offense to convention, your argument holds no strength.”

  Along with the tears of pain that threatened to spill, she put pleading into her gaze. “I understand, but strangers would see. Thus the embarrassment would be greater. Please take me to the chaise in the office. I promise not to move, so you may go for help with no qualm about my safety.”

  He took a step toward the street, then turned about and strode to the office. Placing her on the chaise, he left without a word. Soon he returned, his arms filled with medical supplies.

  “Was no one at the dispensary?”

  “Yes, but Kerry and Miss Damato, who is assisting him, were occupied with workers. He gave me these, along with instructions on how to properly remove that splinter and prevent infection.” James set the supplies on the table—a bottle labeled alcohol, a roll of cotton bandage material, a pair of phosphorous matches, tweezers and a wicked looking needle.

  Mae watched with interest as James lit the match and used the flame to sterilize the needle and tweezers.

  “Let me see the wound.”

  She rested her hand on the table, observing as he used the needle to probe for the glass, then open her skin wide enough to allow him to grasp the splinter with the tweezers and remove the shard. The gash bled freely while he set the tools aside, then poured alcohol over the injury.

  Mae shuddered and bit her lip but did not cry out. The alcohol stung much more than the removal of the splinter.

  James concentrated on bandaging the small hurt. “Kerry said to remove the bandage when you retire. Evidently air will help a wound this small to heal faster.”

  Mae lifted her hand close to her face and studied the wrapping. “You would make a good nurse.”

  “Thank you. I’d rather be a husband, your husband.”

  Her hands returned to the table, and she let her gaze drift aside, not wishing him to see the longing in her eyes. “Please, James, we’ve had this conversation already; do not raise it again.”

  “We’ve also discussed your safety before, yet you continue to act with reckless disregard to your person. At the rate you are having accidents, too little of you will be left for me to plague with proposals in the future.”

  She smiled and turned fond eyes on him. “I do not do it on purpose.”

  He frowned. “Don’t you?”

  “How could you imagine that I would?”

  “You were so dizzy, you could not walk across the street, yet you did not bump your head. You’ve been growing paler and thinner by the week. Do you imagine I don’t know you spend your entire stipend on this school and the dispensary? You are starving yourself, and I won’t have it.”

  She looked down at her lap where the fingers of her uninjured hand plucked at the edges of the bandage. Couldn’t he understand that she had little choice? She didn’t like going hungry. However, time was limited when she would have the authority to act, and the workers’ needs were great. She liked defying him as little as she liked going hungry, but she would do what was necessary.

  “You have restricted support from the estate for my efforts, and I have no other funds. The stipend is mine to spend as I wish, so you cannot stop me.”

  “Is this why you won’t marry me? You think I’ll force you to stop?”

  His question opened a chink of hope that he might know an alternative. She lifted her gaze to his. “As my husband, you would have the authority to do so.”

  “I’d also have the means and authority to give you funds to open a dozen schools.”

  “I don’t want to open a dozen schools—not right now. I want to help the mill workers—the people my family is responsible for, even if Grandfather was too selfish to recognize it.”

  James pressed his lips together as if he swallowed an argument.. “You are correct,” he said at last. “I cannot stop you. The most I can do is try to protect you from yourself. Where are your bodyguards?”

  “I sent Alvin and the new man, Jenks, with Lalie. She’s out purchasing books, slates, paper and other supplies for the school and will need all the help she can get to carry her purchases back here.”

  Of course, if her guards had been here, she might have avoided Vincent Damato’s embarrassing proposal. The man actually implied he was doing her a favor. Well, she’d refused him and hadn’t had to hide behind a bodyguard to do it.

  Mae couldn’t tell James that she found the men’s presence restrictive. After so many years of hiding, to be out, active, making decisions and seeing plans come to fruition was exhilarating beyond belief. James had never experienced life under the thumb of a man like Grandfather and could not possibly understand. She refused to return to her old habits of letting others protect her.

  “My sister is a smart woman. She will have the merchants deliver any supplies she can’t carry.”

  “Yes, but she will carry some, and for those she will find two strong men helpful.” The argument was weak but the best Mae could do under pressure.

  “At the cost of leaving yourself defenseless. Had I not arrived, how long would you have sat upstairs before you could go for help? Sending your bodyguards off with Lalie is as foolish a choice as starving yourself for the sake of charity. If she needed more help, Lalie should have applied to me.”

  James had an excellent point, but what could Mae have done? She would not marry for the sake of a fortune. Her fundraising efforts had not yet born fruit, and without stronger financial support from the estate, she had no recourse other than her stipend. A few missed meals were well worth improving the manufactory equipment and opening this school. “Contacting you would take valuable time. If we are to open the school next week, we need every minute.”

  James’s frustration showed in his tight-lipped expression and tense shoulders. He stared at her for a long moment, then exhaled a slow sigh and let his body relax.

  “Your stubbornness is a thorn in my side. We could debate this forever and never reach a reasonable compromise, but I
did not come here to argue with you.”

  “No?”

  “No.” One corner of his mouth kicked upward. “I came to apologize.”

  “You’ve nothing to apologize for. We may not agree on much, but you’ve never offended me, and despite being wrongheaded, I’m sure you have my best interests at heart.”

  “Never offended?” he mused, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Not even when I kissed you?”

  Heat rose in her cheeks. “You should not talk of such things.”

  “Mae, I would talk of so much with you.” He reached for her hands.

  She pulled them out of reach into her lap. “You said you had an apology?”

  James cleared his throat and drew some papers from his case. “I doubted the new machinery and health care would have the results you expected.”

  “You mean increased production and improved quality.”

  “Precisely. However, I cannot dispute the evidence in these letters and new orders from cloth merchants.” He placed the large stack of correspondence before her, giving her time to read the first few.

  “This is wonderful.”

  “You’ve scarcely begun, yet you’ve increased the value of the cloth mill considerably. I only wish you and your sisters were the ones who will see the benefit of the increase.”

  Involved in studying the letters, she didn’t even raise her head. “We both know that isn’t possible. However, with these new orders we’ll have to look into giving the workers a raise. It won’t be permanent, but even a few months of increased wages will help them.”

  “I’m willing to consider the possibility, but I want to wait until we have a new manager in place so I can consult his opinions.”

  Satisfied that she understood the contents of the papers, Mae returned her full attention to James. “I gather you haven’t yet found a suitable candidate.”

  “No. I must have interviewed twenty men.”

  “Hmmm.” She sat up straighter.

  “I know that look, Mae. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that since you cannot find a man who satisfies your requirements as a manager, you should consider hiring a woman. Perhaps someone who has already proven her abilities and has the confidence of many of the female workers.” She gently nudged the packet of letters and orders in his direction.

  “You think I should hire you?” James snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I most certainly am serious. Miss Clara Barton is a stellar example of a woman’s ability to manage. There are numerous others managing theatres, farms, ranches and so forth. Most charitable organizations have women in managerial capacities, and every household—from the poorest to the richest—requires intricate management. You do Alden Cloth Works a disservice to not even consider the idea.” Eager for the chance to push her boundaries even further, she struck the top letter on the stack of papers with her forefinger to emphasize every point. He had to agree. Please God, let him agree.

  • • •

  He’d come with the intent of ordering her to stop making changes in the status quo. Somehow she had him thinking to flout convention in a most drastic way. He sucked in a breath. He was a dolt not to realize how much managing the cloth works meant to her. How it would validate every action she’d taken since the day she’d walked sodden and shaking into his office.

  She was an Alden and had already proven herself more than capable. Could she deal with the storm of protest that would come from all quarters? Could he? He might lose clients—potential and present clients. Collins & Collins had built a reputation over decades, but even that could be destroyed by making such a risky and visible decision.

  In addition, he had to consider Mae’s safety. The Charles River manufacturing district was not a safe place for well-bred women. Look at the disasters she had already encountered. Granted, that horrid will was as much or more to blame as Mae’s actions.

  “You must understand…”

  She withdrew her hand from the table and slumped back into the chaise. “You will do as you see fit, James. I am fully aware of the consequences of hiring a woman for the manager’s position.” She went on to describe every thought that had run through his mind. “Nonetheless, I find myself disappointed that you are unwilling to give a woman even the smallest chance.”

  His posture stiffened. “You misunderstand me. I want you to understand that if I invite you to accept the position of manager at Alden Cloth Works, you will under no circumstances ever dismiss your bodyguard. You will meet with me on a regular basis, and since you will be receiving a salary, you will no longer starve yourself for the sake of the mill workers. Last, the position will be temporary while I continue to look for the right man to fill the post.”

  “Are you serious?” Her eyes went wide and a flush rose to her cheeks.

  He swallowed. He’d seen just that reaction on her face when he’d compromised her in this very building. “If you accept those conditions, yes.”

  “Then I accept. When would you like me to start?”

  “Given your involvement with the school and your plans for the receptions, you may start next week. That should give Fitzwalter enough time to turn over any necessary information to you.”

  Her smile broadened “Then may I hire my own assistants?”

  “You’ll need more than one?”

  “I think it best if I have one man and one woman. I will hire them from among the present employees, which will help to smooth my transition into the manager’s job.”

  He grinned in response. That was his clever lioness. “I see you are already thinking ahead. Just please clear with me any hiring decisions and major changes you plan before you act on them.”

  She gave a slow blink. “I will keep you informed of my activities.”

  “I want your promise to inform me before you act.”

  She sighed. “Very well. I promise. It’s a small price to pay for the chance you’ve given me.”

  James stared at her for a long time and wished he felt reassured. He had the feeling she was already plotting a way to circumvent her promise. He wished he knew what she was up to.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Thank you, Mr. Damato, for interrupting that gentleman’s proposal,” Mae said through clenched teeth. Thanking the man was the last thing she wished to do. “He was being as persistent as you in his refusal to accept my rejection. I wish you would understand I’ve no desire to marry you, him, or anyone.” She turned to leave the manse’s conservatory and rejoin her guests, trying very hard not to allow the proposal or Vincent to destroy her pleasure in the Saturday afternoon entertainment.

  Vincent grasped her arm, his expression fierce. “I understand your refusal, Mae, but I do not accept it. I won’t pretend undying love. In fact, I’ll be so blunt as to confess it is your inheritance I lust for. Understand it is in my best interests for everyone to believe us besotted with each other, though I assure them your circumstances and breeding do not allow you to wear your heart on your sleeve.”

  “And you think telling me you want the Alden assets will convince me to wed? I may have to tolerate your presence on social occasions, but be assured I will never endure another moment alone with you.” She shook off his hand and hurried away to the reception rooms.

  The man enjoyed making a pest of himself. That was the second time today Vincent had rescued her from an unwanted proposal. Both times he left the suitor with the impression Mae had promised herself to Vincent. She was forced to remain silent to avoid raising the rejected suitor’s hopes.. She began to wish she’d accepted James’s suggestion—made that awful day the will was read—to allow him to screen these men.

  Mae pushed the disturbing encounter aside to focus on entertaining her guests and convince them to join her charitable efforts. “Yes, Mrs. Lyttle-Bowen, thanks to your advice the open house for the school was a huge success, and we’ve nearly reached capacity.”

  The matron lifted her lorgnette to peer at Mae. “Did y
ou invite the mayor and the governor as I recommended?”

  “No. I did not feel the workers would be comfortable with such important public dignitaries present. Although I hope to enlist the mayor’s support for an organization I want to create for the continued support of the school. I’d be delighted if you and Mr. Lyttle-Bowen would participate.”

  “What a shame you did not think of gathering support for this new project before you decided to take on a man’s job. Modest encouragement of charitable activities and organizations is appropriate work for well-bred women. Employment of any type in a manufactory is not, and pushing yourself into a position of authority is worse. No one admires a managing woman or one who thinks herself as good as or better than a man. Then too, taking employment while in mourning offends every sensibility. Of course, fortune hunters will no doubt overlook such unfeminine behavior.” The old besom sniffed and let her gaze travel over Mae’s modest gray afternoon dress.

  She fisted a hand in the folds of her skirt and kept her smile firmly in place. She had not even begun to work as the manager and gossip was vilifying her.

  A few weeks ago, Mrs. Lyttle-Bowen’s disapproval would have sent Mae scurrying from the room to cower in the back parlor. Not today. “You may be right,” Mae used her best placating voice. “However, I could not allow the mill to flounder simply for lack of a manager. I’m certain that as executor, Mr. Collins will find a permanent replacement soon. Then I may return to more gentle pursuits.” As she spoke, Mae knew her words for a lie. If she could arrange it, she would never return to even a shadow of her old life, propriety be damned.

  Mrs. Lyttle-Bowen pointed her long nose to the air. “Let us hope your temporary sacrifice does not cause permanent damage to your reputation.” She shifted her glance to beyond Mae’s shoulder. “I see Mrs. Cabot beckoning. You will excuse me.”

  “Of course.” Mae released her grip on her skirt and gave a surreptitious shake to her fingers grown numb from tension.