The Gamble
Page 10
But then, as if to prove that even ladies had wilder, more passionate aspects of their personalities she found herself hesitating on the doorstep unable to leave until she did one last thing.
She scurried back to the parlor and knelt beside Nathan. He slept soundly, his face quiet in repose, looking more at peace than she’d ever seen him. Was it possible to love a man so much when he was only sleeping? Imagine how her heart would thunder should he open his eyes!
But he slept on without waking even as she leaned over, placing the gentlest of kisses upon his cheek. “I love you Mr. Baker,” she whispered and stood.
And so she started on her way back to Boston.
I’ll have to answer their questions. They’ll make me leave the League I’m sure, after pulling such a stunt as this. Father will bid me come home. My life will never be the same.
Chapter 21
It was a sad thought as she trudged down the street, the valise bumping against her leg as she walked, but she had to face them. If only because it was the right thing to do.
A rooster called from somewhere. The city was stirring to life. Soon those old cats would be wandering the neighborhood. What would they say, she wondered, if they knew the truth of her visit to Mr. Baker’s house? What stories would be told about her eventual disappearance? Not that it mattered, not if she was leaving, and especially not if he… she didn’t want to complete that thought.
Somehow having a place where Nathan was somewhere in the world was comforting. Even if she couldn’t be with him, knowing where he was helped the world to make some sort of sense. With him adrift, there was no way to find him later.
It was only an hour or so before the train came. Margrett spent that time seated in the Lady’s Waiting Room, lost in a fantasy where Nathan would come running in, sweeping her off her feet and swearing his undying love before begging her not to go.
He would show in his shirtsleeves, too impatient to change, maybe in his stockinged feet, too desperate not to lose her. Too obsessed to realize he was barefoot.
He didn’t come.
She eventually moved to a bench on the platform, in case he was daunted by the fact that he was in the Lady’s Waiting Room and found it too embarrassing to break into such a place just to sweep her off her feet. Although Nathan didn’t come, several other men found it necessary to speak with her in flirtatious tones, some of which were downright lewd. She eventually returned to the Lady’s Waiting Room, happy to let the matron deal with the rougher types that hovered outside the door.
Nathan wasn’t one of them who waited just outside for her. She checked. Several times.
When the train came, she lingered on the platform, sure he would sweep in at any moment.
It wasn’t until the train pulled away from the platform and she watched the depot grow smaller as the train strained to crest the next hill that she truly understood. Nathan was lost to her. Her heart shattered, and it was all she could do to stumble to a seat.
The clickety-clack of the train should have been soothing, should have been tranquil, but it wasn’t. Margrett sat, her bag clutched closely to her chest, staring out the window as the train rumbled through the plains heading east. Her eyes burned with tears that she could not bring herself to shed. It seemed like she was ever going from civilization to savagery.
She chided herself for her naiveté in thinking she was going to tame a wild land, but her chiding was gentle, she was still too sore from losing Nathan.
A porter walked through the car announcing that dinner for those passengers who cared to dine was ready in the dining car. The thought wasn’t appealing, but Margret forced herself to get up and move in the direction of the dining car.
She held her bag close to her as she made her way numbly to the car. She needed to eat. She would be unable to do the job before her if she left off the care of her body. Resolving to eat at least a cup of soup, she asked a porter to escort her to the dining car, fighting off the feeling that all of this was very familiar. Especially when it turned out that all the tables were taken. She even checked to be sure that one table wasn’t taken by two rather drunk and vocal brothers who’d been on the trip to Flagstaff. At least Mr. Harmen…or rather, Mr. Morrison wasn’t going to be there this time. There was an open space at a table at the far end. She would have to share it though, there was a…
She crossed the car in a stupor, barely feeling the heavy carpet under her feet, daring to call her eyes liars and to tell her heart to stop its fluttering. She sank numbly into the proffered chair the gentleman held for her. He helped press the chair under the table with a grand flourish and draped a napkin over her lap with rakish familiarity.
“I’ve never been to Boston,” Nathan said, his smile the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen in her life. “What do you suggest we do there first?”
Margrett stifled a short laugh. “Buy you a new jacket?”
He made a great show of lifting his arm to examine his sleeve as if seeing it for the first time, then grimacing as he caught a good whiff of it. “I’m amazed they even let me on the train…” He shook his head to her laughter and reached to open a bottle of wine that sat on the table, pouring for them both. “Well, perhaps the aroma of a good wine will counteract the stench of a bad whiskey.”
“Let’s hope so. Did you remember to lock up my house?” Margrett asked, unshed tears making her vision waver.
“Your house?”
“My house,” she whispered. “I bought it fair and square.”
Nathan touched his glass to hers. “To the Ladies Betterment League of Boston and the Arizona Territories!”
“To…” Margrett swallowed. “to…us.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Nathan agreed, leaning forward to kiss her as the train chugged east toward new adventures.
The End
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After Hugh Quinn, Duke of Bellington, broke her heart, Emma swore she’d never see him again. When desperate circumstances force her back into his arms, she finds her resolve crumbling. How can she steel her heart when his nearness ignites all the passions she thought she’d left behind?
Hugh can’t believe his luck when Lady Emma, the woman who stole his heart then humiliated him, comes crawling back to the social scene. This is his chance to regain the prize he lost and make her regret her actions. He soon finds, however, that trying to teach Emma a lesson without losing his heart is much more difficult than he’d expected.