Katie's Maverick (Strasburg: The New Generation Book 2)

by Pippa Greathouse

  "No, you'll listen to me, young lady. I have apologized for being stupid enough to have proposed to Miss Watson. But what I said was the truth. If there was any rebounding done, it was when I considered her, not you. You can choose to ignore me for the rest of your life if you want to, but I want you to know, it's you I care about. No one else. Just you. I don't know what else I can do to make you believe me."

  Silver-brown eyes stared down into blue ones, glinting, as if he dared her to disbelieve him. Katie looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, and threw her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers. Her tongue sought, demanded, and she eagerly pressed her body against his, asking for more.

  His hands grasped her shoulders and gave her a slight shake. "Katie? Stop it, my girl. You're almost out of control, and I'm a poor one to demand it." He held her back and glared down into her blue eyes. "If you're going to be this hungry when I have you alone, I'll have to marry you, and soon. Hear?"

  As if realizing the truth of his words, her eyes widened suddenly. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

  He turned her toward the front of the house and smacked her bottom soundly. "I'm taking you inside. But before I do, I want to know if you'll accompany me to the Christmas dance the day after Thanksgiving at Pembroke. Yes, or no."

  Katie tried to jerk out of his arms. She got no further than to be turned to face him.

  "Kaitlynne?" His words held warning.

  "No."

  He pulled her closer, until her face was inches below his. "No?"

  "No." Her chin jutted upward. "I'll come to the dance. But if you want me to spend the evening dancing with you, Nick Wellington, you'll have to ask me. Every. Single. Dance."

  "I see. Then be prepared to be asked. Shall I come and pick you up then?"

  She thought a moment. "Perhaps. I suppose it would be awkward to show up by myself."

  "And shall I bring you back home?"

  "If you wish."

  "So let me understand this. I'll pick you up, and I'll bring you home, and I'll ask for every single dance." He repeated the phrase exactly as she had. "But it's not to be considered a social engagement between us?"

  "That's correct."

  "All right. Do you realize what a cheeky little brat you are? I'll see you at five-thirty next Friday, the day after Thanksgiving. The ball begins at six. Be ready."

  "Fine."

  Another hard swat landed on her bottom, and she winced. "Ow. Stop it."

  "I think not."

  Nick took her up the steps toward the front door and turned her back to face him. Holding her shoulders tightly, he leaned down, kissed her soundly on the mouth, and released her. Nodding toward Giles, who still held the door open, he sent Katie toward the door and turned toward the carriage. "Be ready, then."

  Katie whirled back, nearly knocking Giles over, as she glared back at Nick. She watched him disappear into the carriage and pull away. She was nearly at the top of the steps when she realized how ridiculous their conversation had been and burst into laughter, shaking her head.

  Giles, below, was still standing with his mouth open as she glanced back at him the last time.

  The Invitation

  Her mother joined her in her bedroom that afternoon, asking about her morning.

  She sighed. "There were two women who came into the store while we were there. They were gossiping about Nick and how Miss Watson ended the engagement. I thought they must be the sisters you wrote me about."

  "If one was tall and the other was short and they were gossiping, it was the Wilder sisters. Don't be too hard on them, Katie. I believe they mean well, for all their gossiping. They're now part of our population of little widows who lost their husbands in the war."

  "But does that entitle them to spread gossip about all over town?"

  Her mother glanced out the window. "Perhaps not. But sometimes, you just have to accept people along with their flaws. They've each had a hard life. It's good they have each other. Here." Her mother held out her hand. "This came for you while you were gone this morning. Looks like it's from Archibald Edwards."

  Katie accepted the envelope her mother held out, frowning. "I wonder what he has to say."

  Merrie grinned. "I'm sure he'll tell you. I suspect he's asking you to the ball at Pembroke the day after Thanksgiving."

  "Oh, Mother. Nick has already asked." Katie explained the conversation that had taken place that morning, and her mother frowned.

  "If you're set on waiting for Nick, that's a strange way to answer him," she replied, frowning. Her beautiful blue eyes sought her daughter's.

  Katie lowered her head. "I suppose it was, wasn't it?"

  "Yes. I'd be careful if I were you."

  Katie ripped open the envelope in her hands and read it.

  It was indeed from Archie. She read through it once again before turning to look up at her mother.

  "He's home from law school and visiting his aunt in Strasburg, and you're right. He wants to take me to the ball." She looked up toward her mother with chagrin. "He's a little late."

  "Indeed. Katie, surely, you're not considering going with him instead—"

  "No, Nick would kill me. And I have no intention of encouraging Archie now."

  "A wise choice." Her mother's voice made her look up. "My darling," Merrie said softly, "If you did, and you lost Nick, it would be the most unwise and the most regrettable decision you'd ever make." She sat there, watching her daughter for a moment before rising to go downstairs. "And you'd grieve over it every day you live, from now on."

  Katie watched her go and went to her secretary to make a reply. Opening the inkwell, she pulled out a piece of stationary and began to write.

  Dear Mr. Edwards,

  It is lovely to hear from you. I am so sorry, but I have previous arrangements to go to the ball with…

  She frowned. She could see Nick's face, and the thought of hurting him was unthinkable. There was a slight tinge of irritation at the thought of reading Polly's letter. And she hadn't entirely promised yet to spend the whole evening with Nick, but… She flattened her mouth, tossing the piece of stationary into the trash. Pulling out another, she dipped the pen.

  Dear Mr. Edwards,

  I do hope you'll understand that I have already accepted…

  That one, too, ended up in the trash with the first. Nick's stern face before her seemed to be asking what her intentions were. Thinking of the way she had responded to him when he'd pinned her against the wall earlier that day, chills traveled down her spine. Archie had never elicited that kind of response in her. He was a friend, no more.

  With a sigh, she again reached for another piece of stationary. This time, she ran her tongue along her lower lip as she dipped the pen once more.

  Dear Mr. Edwards,

  I must respectfully decline your invitation…

  She smiled to herself. When Nick came for her on Friday, she would be appreciative of not only his coming to pick her up, but of every invitation he gave her to dance with him. Because the truth was she looked forward to each of those invitations. She wanted to be in his arms all evening.

  And dance. Every. Single. Dance.

  The next invitation she received was to tea at Cicely Carter's house on Thursday. She promptly accepted that one. It would be good to see the twins again, and Lizzie had offered to pick her up on the way.

  When the carriage pulled up to the house and Kimbrow jumped down to help Lizzie out. Katie hurried down to meet her, ready to go.

  "Nick said to tell you he had things to do this morning. Waiting outside while a bunch of females have tea was not his favorite cup of tea." She was laughing now, inside the carriage. "But he said to tell you he'd be by to pick you up the day after Thanksgiving, promptly at five-thirty."

  Katie rolled her eyes. "And let me guess. He said I'd better be ready."

  "Ah. You know my brother well."

  "Yes, and I ignore him well, too," Katie replied. "You can tell him that."

  "I can. But
I won't. And you can ignore him but at your own peril," Lizzie tossed back. "You should know that."

  Katie made a face.

  Cicely was waiting inside the drawing room when they arrived, with Mary Polly, and welcomed them. She gave them a tour through the house, and they ended up sitting in the ladies' parlor.

  "It's a beautiful house," Lizzie said, looking around her. "I remember Geoff saying that he was building it, but I never saw it."

  "Did you bring your needlework? I've scissors and tapestry needles, if you need them, and some thread."

  They sat down to busy themselves, and Katie listened, wondering if Lizzie was planning on bringing up the previous engagement between Nick and Miss Watson. She was determined not to bring it up herself.

  It wasn't long.

  "So tell me." Lizzie tilted her head. "You two know first-hand what happened with Miss Watson and my brother, and he isn't talking much. But some of us would like to know. Geoff isn't telling, either."

  Cicely looked at her twin. "Shall we?" she said.

  "Absolutely," Mary Polly replied. "Phebe is our friend from school. She was full of mayhem."

  "And you two weren't?" Katie laughed.

  "According to Nick, we didn't hold a candle to her."

  Lizzie's brow rose. "Oh, my."

  They began to explain some of the things she'd gotten them into while she came for visits.

  "It wasn't so much the fact that she got Ciss in trouble for smoking a cigar in the courtroom." Polly looked from one to the other, nodding at Katie's wide eyes.

  "He did tell us the short version of that one."

  "And he told us about Cicely's wedding," Katie said solemnly.

  "Or the rip she left in Mrs. Baxter's boarding house carpet that all of us had to end up paying for. Geoffrey was furious. All our men were. It wasn't even the brawl that most of the ladies in town got into that we all had to go to court for—oh, don't look at me like that, Lizzie. Nick didn't tell you?"

  "Just that she started it." Lizzie shook her head. "My dear brother's lost his mind. He didn't even seem to know exactly why he proposed to her."

  Polly set her needlework down in her lap. "I can only tell you what Geoff told me. She's a troubled girl, and he felt sorry for her. He thought her escapades were attempts for attention that she'd never gotten from her family. They ignored her. Every time she went home during school absences, they went somewhere for a trip. But I think Nick realized, after he proposed to her, that he was never going to be able to help her, and he really didn't care enough to spend the effort trying. He felt like she needed more help than he could give her. Katie, you're dying to know, so I'll tell you."

  Katie nodded, and Polly continued. "It was only a couple of weeks after he proposed. They had been to see Father Michael. She wasn't Catholic, so she was going to have to go to counseling. Then there were the marriage banns. She didn't want to wait. She wanted a protestant minister to do it. Nick said no. Father Michael had married your parents, had christened all of you, and he wasn't about to have someone else do the ceremony. Then she decided she wanted to live in the house at Pembroke. After what she'd pulled on Miss Hazel and Miss Constance over Cicely's wedding, that wasn't going to go over well. Nick had planned to build her a house separately, but she didn't want that. When he told her they would not live in Pembroke, she threw a fit in the middle of town and threw the ring at him out in front of the dormitory. She went inside, and after a few seconds, came back out and picked up the ring, called him a few names, and went back in."

  Katie gasped. "What did he do?"

  Polly shook her head. "He stood there, watching her as she disappeared, and threw his head back, laughing. Then he said, 'Well, thank God for that.' And got on his horse and left town. Father saw it happen. He'd just come out of the sheriff's office."

  Lizzie's eyes were wide. She turned to Katie. "Well, I can certainly believe it."

  "The thing is, Katie," Cicely said thoughtfully. "We all know Nick has had his eye on you since you were children."

  "But she kept his ring," Lizzie frowned, jabbing a tapestry needle into the hooped material.

  "Yes. She left town the next day to go home. But Geoffrey said even if she comes back and begs forgiveness, she'd be wasting her time. He's done with her for good."

  As they rode home in the carriage later, Katie was quiet. She so hoped what Cicely had said was the truth.

  Thanksgiving

  "Mother, tell me. What are we doing for Thanksgiving?"

  Katie hunted up her mother, three days before the celebration was to occur, finding her in the kitchen. The cook had several dishes prepared for approval, and Merrie was supposed to choose the best two. Miss Constance had seen to it that the house was decorated for autumn, but nothing had been done about Christmas yet.

  "We're celebrating with the Wellingtons, this year. They have the extra ballroom and everyone has been notified that it will be there. The school children and their families will be coming, of course, and Miss Constance and Miss Hazel have been busy decorating for the Christmas ball, the day after Thanksgiving. There will be some cleaning up to do. And we're bringing half the food to share the burden. Here, taste this. Everything's settled except the dessert. We have batter pudding and American snow balls. There's one more, but it requires a sauce made with white wine. We'll take it, but you'll want to stay away from it."

  Katie made a rueful face. "Just because I had ill effects when I was eighteen?"

  Her mother raised her brow. "Once was enough, sweets. Here, try the batter pudding. It has a sauce, too, but you don't have to eat it."

  Katie brought a spoonful to her lips. Closing her eyes in delight, she sighed. "Lovely. Where are the snow balls?"

  "Here." Her mother passed her a second plate.

  "Oh, my. It's heavenly!"

  "So we should take the snow balls?"

  Katie shook her head. "No, I think we should take them both."

  Merrie turned to Ella, the cook. "Can we do that?"

  She was answered with an eager grin. "Absolutely, my lady." Ella turned toward Katie. "An excellent choice, Miss Katie."

  Katie began to exit the room with a plate in each hand.

  "And where are you going with that?" Her mother stopped her, eyes twinkling.

  "To the dining room. You can have the pudding. Join me?"

  Merrie took the other plate from her hand. "Coming." She had just made it into the dining room when she turned to Katie. "How are things going with Nicholas?" she asked quietly.

  "Nicholas is definitely a maverick," she replied. "He doesn't seem to care what anyone thinks. I'm surprised he gets away with it in today's polite society."

  Her mother laughed. "I remember when my mother said that about your father. We were dating then. He was about as maverick as they came, too."

  "Grandmother said that?" Katie paused and then smiled. "I can imagine that. She's so proper."

  "I can't wait to hear what she says about Nick. But you'll probably find out on Thanksgiving. She and Papa will be there. They've been visiting friends, but they'll be back tomorrow. That's why you haven't seen them."

  "Are we still giving out slates this year?"

  "Yes, and sponges. And we have gifts for each of the girls and boys. They've already been taken over and put under the tree in the informal ballroom."

  "I'm so proud of you and Papa," Katie breathed softly.

  "Katie, your father was doing that long before I came to the house. And his father before him. They always had a special heart for the children here. The Wellingtons tried to take care of the needs of the community as far as providing medical care and meeting the needs of the tenants in the area. The Adamses tried to take care of the educational needs. It's like your father says, ‘When you're blessed, you share it.’"

  Katie stared at her mother. "Papa said that?"

  "And a few other things. So, when I tell you mavericks can also be quite noble men, you may believe it."

  Katie rested a hand on
her mother's arm and smiled. "Thank you, Mother," she said softly. "I'll remember that."

  Thanksgiving Day

  Early Thanksgiving morning, Nick and Kimbrow stopped the Wellington coach outside the front door of the Adams' house.

  "Might as well come in, Adam. This may take a while, and I may need some help carrying dishes out to the carriage."

  Adam turned to him and grinned. "I could have done this, you know."

  Nick led the way up to the porch, where Giles opened the door.

  "But then I'd have missed seeing Katie. And God knows, I never want to miss the chance to do that. Hello, Giles."

  "Good morning, sir. Welcome." He gave a slight bow as Miss Constance came to the door.

  "Thank you. Good morning, Miss Constance. And where's Katie?"

  "Haven't seen her yet this morning, sir."

  At his look of disappointment, the housekeeper gave him a lopsided smile. "She'll be down if she hears your voice. You're here to transport some of the food? We've been working all night in the kitchen."

  "Absolutely. Tell us where to start."

  "Some of the staff is here to help transport. But come. I sent the cooks to bed to rest a bit. And stop dragging your feet, Nicholas. She'll be down before you leave. I'm certain of it."

  Nick sent a smile back. "She'd better. I'll go up and awaken her myself."

  The look he got from Miss Constance made him throw his head back and laugh. She led him to the dining room, full of dishes that were ready to be carried.

  "Oh, my." Nick circled the table. "What have we here?"

  "Food," Merrie said, from the doorway. "And you are not to touch any of it, Nicholas Wellington." When she saw his face, she laughed. "I'm teasing you. But the staff is planning to go over with you and get it inside so they can see where Miss Hazel wants it. And I really don't trust you to carry the custards and the pies. The meringue just came out and I don't wish it to settle."