by Bella Bowen
“Surely not that one,” Caroline gestured dismissively toward the door. The first time we saw her, she was covered in mud. Now she's running around like a madwoman pointing a gun, dressing in nothing but—”
“Was it loaded, do you know?” Mrs. Carnegie looked at Jake.
Jake smiled. The woman was apparently adept at putting rude women in their place.
“I believe so, ma’am,” he said. “The flint was in position.”
The woman grinned. “Too bad she didn't shoot him.”
“My brother?” Caroline took a step back, horrified.
“No. The sheriff.” She looked at Jake again. “I believe our business is finished here, sir. Give your sister my apologies.” Then she leaned her head back and covered her eyes with a wet cloth.
Jake dragged Caroline from the room as quietly as possible and decided he was not about to explain the entire meeting to the woman. Besides, he had something better to do than smash himself into a buggy and head back to town...
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lizzy changed into the new dress and tried to sit still while Meg put her hair up. The woman had a gift, and her fingers had speed, and both were necessary if she was to return to the drawing room before Mr. Jacob Montgomery disappeared. She wanted him to see her as a woman, not a child. And then perhaps he would be so kind as to eat his heart out.
The blue gown suited her perfectly, though it was a bit snug in the waist. Meg had squeezed Lizzy into a corset in order the wear the thing, and even now, she had a hard time breathing in enough air while she sat on the stool and waited for her hair to be finished.
“A jeweled pin, do you think?” Meg asked.
“No. Too early in the day, I think. And I don't want to be dressed too fine, or he'll imagine I did it for him.”
A few moments later, she hurried to the big house as quickly as she could while taking shallow breaths.
And he'd already gone.
The drawing room doors stood open. The room beyond was silent, and the man and his sister were nowhere in sight.
Lizzy was more disappointed than she should have been, but of course she'd gone through a bit of torture to impress the man. The least he could have done was linger long enough to be impressed.
She cleared her throat in the hallway.
“Is that you, Elizabeth? Come in. Come in.”
She walked carefully into the room and turned toward the woman on the couch. “Mrs. Carnegie. Is there anything you need?”
The woman shook her head. “I have my bell. If I ring it, half a dozen women come running. Please, sit down over there, where it's easier to see you.”
Elizabeth moved to the right where Mrs. Carnegie pointed and lowered herself onto a chair with a tapestried cushion and arm covers.
The woman thanked her for coming to defend her and made no complaints about the way she was dressed when she did so. They talked about the one thing they had in common—being left in the care of an uncle. Mrs. Carnegie’s uncle had treated her unkindly, she said, and when she’d heard of Elizabeth’s similar situation—from another bride who had come from Stark County—she’d been happy to offer Lizzy a way out of it.
“So that is how Fontaine knew so much about me,” she said aloud.
Mrs. Carnegie then explained that after she’d heard of Lizzy, she’d sent others to her small town to find out her character before the invitation had been sent.
“Character is what sets a Diamond Springs Bride apart, after all. And we’ll do what we can to enhance the character you arrived with.”
The conversation eventually came around to the kinds of classes Lizzy would be attending.
How to maintain a home.
How to cook different things with only a few ingredients, and conversely, how to cook for a small army.
How to shoot or trap when there were no ingredients left.
How to help an animal or a woman give birth.
How to care for wounds and children.
How to be a lady while doing all those things.
How to love a man.
And how to kill a man who needs killing.
There would be shooting practice, there would be chores to make sure she understood what she'd been taught.
And there would be dancing.
“The classes that will teach you how to kill a man, you’ll also learn how to tell when a man is sincere. And until you pass all those lessons, you won’t be able to graduate. And there will be no dances, and no interaction with the men, until then.” Mrs. Carnegie raised a brow. “And I reserve the right to offer personal instruction wherever I see fit. Any questions?”
Lizzy considered, but the only questions she could think of involved the man who just left.
“May I ask anything at all?”
“Anything.”
Lizzy forced a bit of air into her corset-confined chest. “How old is Jacob Montgomery?”
The woman smiled kindly. “I don't know, Elizabeth. Did he interest you?”
Lizzy shook her head. “No. Just curious, is all. But…will he be at the dances?”
“I don't think so,” the woman said. “I think he will look elsewhere for a bride if only to silence his horrid sister.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lizzy left the room and closed the doors behind her so the injured woman could sleep. She turned the knobs silently into place. She turned and gasped when a man stepped close and put a finger over her lips. It was Jacob Montgomery. He hadn’t gone after all!
“Please, don't scream,” he said quietly, then stepped back and took his finger with him. “I wouldn’t want to disturb Mrs. Carnegie any further.”
She gave him a sly smile. “You just don’t want to be shot.”
He laughed lightly. “That too.”
Lizzy thought back to the night not long before when Robbie Shaw’s frightening brother had wanted a quiet word with her, and she'd ended up screaming.
“I can't promise I won't scream,” she said. “It’s the best defense a woman has you know.”
He nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He gestured toward the floral settee at the back of the foyer, but she shook her head. She was far too agitated to sit. Though she wished to appear as mature as possible, sitting still was out of the question. She would only fidget, and children fidgeted.
“What do you want with me, sir?”
She wished he would simply fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness for ever thinking of her as a child. Her lovely green dress emphasized all her best features, and though she was a bit on the underfed side, she still had the shape of a grown woman.
“I would very much like to know how old you are,” he said.
She rolled her eyes and sighed. She would never look older than she was, and apparently, it still wasn’t old enough. “I'm too young to associate with you, obviously. You're how old? Forty?”
His jaw fell, but he quickly recovered. “Hmm. And you are what? Fifteen?”
She couldn’t help laughing. “All right. I am nineteen next month.”
He sighed, disappointed. She felt that sigh to her bones. It melted all the humor away.
“Anything else?” She was humiliated enough. The sooner he left the property and left her mind, the better.
He paused a long minute, searching her face, her hair. She should have been flattered that he at least wished she were older. If she had been, would he have asked for a kiss? She’d known many a young man for less than an hour before they’d suggested it. Mr. Shaw, for example.
“No,” he said finally. “I suppose I just wanted to tell you that I enjoyed meeting you. That's all. I hope you find a...worthy husband.” He reached up and touched the side of her face. “Be happy, Mud Girl.” He moved closer and she had no chance to put her lips together, but he tilted her face down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Maybe you’ll remember me now and then.”
He inclined his head and walked to the front entrance where his hat lay waiting for him.
&
nbsp; The insult, intended or not, stung like an ant bite, and she wished she could sting him in return.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Montgomery. I’m afraid the memory of you is likely to get mixed in with all of those other older gentlemen who have kissed my forehead.”
While she waited for his reaction, she had a quick change of heart. She didn’t want him to remember her as spiteful.
She stepped forward, forming the apology.
His eyes narrowed and he tossed his hat back to the polished surface of the table with such disgust that the air stirred the large plant standing three feet away. The distraction made her jumble her words.
“Forgive me. I shouldn’t have…”
“Yes. You should have.” In three long strides, he was standing before her, reaching out to cup her cheek in his broad hand. “Forgive me,” he whispered and bent toward her. His face grew closer, closer. The brush of his nose on her cheek seemed the most intimate touch possible until a heartbeat later when his lips melded against her own. So warm. So soft. Tasting of something so unique it had to be the flavor of him.
She had just enough thought left in her head to imagine that in that moment, she was utterly happy. For that moment, while their lips touched and touched again, she wanted for nothing else in the world.
“Forgive me,” he whispered against her mouth. “But I couldn’t have you remembering me that way.”
She tried to get air into her lungs enough to speak. “Perhaps…” Breathe, breathe. “Another…apology...would do the trick.”
She could tell he was thinking better of it. The frown. The regret. But then his eyes opened and bore into her own. His nostrils pulsed and he lowered his mouth again. Bliss was hers. If she could just draw it out a bit.
The darkness behind her eyes grew blacker still, and she sensed herself…
…falling.
Elizabeth’s lips went lax and her head tipped away from him. He pulled back to see what he might have done wrong and discovered she’d fainted. She was so light, he’d barely noticed the weight against the arm he held around her waist.
“Damn.” He swept her up into his arms and took her to the settee. A kiss from him had never made a woman swoon before, but then again, he’d never kissed anyone so young. At least, not since he’d been so young himself.
“Fool,” he murmured.”
Her breaths were nothing more than little puffs of air. Why didn’t she breathe? Was she wearing a damned corset?
He felt around her ribs and cursed again. She might suffocate if he did nothing.
He looked around the foyer. No sign of anyone about. No sound of footsteps.
From his right boot he slipped his knife, then wondered where to begin cutting. There were no buttons in the front and the blasted thing was tight to her skin everywhere except…
One last glance at her face was all it took. The poor girl was turning gray while he cowered.
Quickly, but carefully, he slipped the tip of the blade between her bosoms that were definitely not childlike.
A woman screamed and he jumped, pulling the knife back. It was the maid who had fled earlier.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he said sternly. “She can’t breathe. I need your help.”
“Lawsy!” The young woman hurried to his side. “I’ve got to loosen her—”
“Corset. Yes, I know.”
“The ties are in the back, sir. You can’t be here when I—”
“Take this.” He handed the maid the knife, then pulled Elizabeth’s torso forward against him. Then, looking down at her back at the exposed fastens of the dress, he took the blade and started slicing the buttons off. The knife was sharp. The corset was exposed in no time. He carefully threaded the blade between the ties and the contraption and sliced again, already afraid he might be too late.
He’d cut through six inches of crisscrossed ribbons. Still no reaction.
“Come on, sweetheart. Take a nice deep breath.”
He cut more. Then the entire corset opened exposing her chemise beneath.
“Elizabeth, darling. If you don’t take a nice deep breath, I’ll have to kiss you again.”
He tossed the blade to the floor and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly, then letting her go.
She sucked in a breath, her eyes still closed. His heart soared when her ribs pushed his arms open a second time.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Breathe deep.”
She stirred in his embrace, then gasped. He allowed her enough room to gather her dress to her before he straightened, but he remained on the edge of the settee, facing her. Propriety be damned.
Finally, her eyes rose to meet his. Her pretty mouth moved, but she had no words.
“Why in the world would you need a corset?” Both his voice and body shook, relieved she was alive and angry she’d been in danger at all. His ego was deflated as well, now that he knew his kiss hadn’t been the cause of her swoon. All emotions rolled together. He couldn’t help sounding cross.
“Why the devil are you still on my property?” The cock of a pistol accentuated Mrs. Carnegie’s question.
Jake turned to find the barrel of a small Queen Anne gun not three feet from his head and closing. He lifted his hands well away from the young woman whose clothes he’d just cut from her. “I see how ghastly this must appear. But this child has been nearly starved. Your corset nearly killed her.”
“I am not a child,” Elizabeth interjected.
“Not now,” he said in unison with Mrs. Carnegie.
He studied Mrs. Carnegie and her gun for a moment before the barrel lowered.
“Perhaps,” Mrs. Carnegie said, “you would help me back to my chaise and we can finish this conversation whilst Meg takes Elizabeth to her room to lie down.”
CHAPTER NINE
Lizzy's head throbbed as she watched Jacob Montgomery sweet Mrs. Carnegie gently into his arms and carry her back to the drawing room. Once inside, he kicked the door shut.
Meg helped her stand, then tried to turn her toward the back of the house, but Lizzy wasn't having any of it.
“If you think I'm going anywhere, you're wrong.” She frowned at Meg and moved carefully to the drawing room doors, then pressed her ear to the crack between them.
“I'll ask again. Why are you still on my property?”
“I sent my sister in the buggy and thought I would borrow a horse. The buggy is quite small—”
“And you thought we might keep our horses in the house?”
There was silence for a minute.
“No, madam. I thought I might have a word with Miss Elizabeth while my sister was not around to insult her.”
“I see.”
“When she fainted, I admit I panicked.” He cleared his throat. “I realize I may have compromised the girl's reputation at this point. And I am willing to take responsibility—”
“She has not been compromised, sir. Unless more had occurred—”
“I kissed the girl.”
Mrs. Carnegie laughed. “Then it's best you stop calling her a girl, don't you think?”
Another silence.
“I'm willing to—”
“To what, Mr. Montgomery? To marry her? To save her reputation? Of course you are. But I assure you, her reputation is intact. No one will think any less of her for being kissed. And no one will hear about any of this outside the ranch.”
“Very well. And if I leave here—”
“If?”
“I won't leave here until I know you won't be putting another corset on her—”
“The dress was new. Perhaps it didn't fit—”
“She needs some meat on her bones.”
“She needs more than just meat on her bones, but I cannot repair the child in just a day, and certainly not from a sickbed.”
“She's not a child.”
“Mr. Montgomery. Try not to be offended when I suggest that perhaps it would be easier for you to remember her that way.”
Fontaine came into the house
with an Indian woman and one other. Fontaine had both pistols drawn. The other two had rifles.
Her friend nodded toward the drawing room doors. “He in there?” she said.
“Yes. But he's not…” She couldn’t quite claim the man wasn’t dangerous, but perhaps the only danger was to her heart. “Don’t shoot him.”
Fontaine gave her a wink, which made her believe she understood what Lizzy wasn’t able to say.
Meg draped something over her shoulders, took a hold of her hand, and tugged. “You don't want him seeing you like this, Miss Elizabeth. Come away now.”
“Get back.” Fontaine nodded the Indian who then reached for the doorknob.
Meg didn't give her a choice and dragged her through the foyer and into the back of the house.
Lizzy’s ears strained, but she heard no shouting. But more importantly, no shooting.
Because she might get one last glimpse of the man as he left, she ran ahead of the maid and hurried up the stairs. Eventually, with a lot of stopping to rest and catch her breath, she made it to the third floor. She found an empty room on the north side and hurried to the dormer window, but there was no clear view of the road. The trees that fanned out from the house blocked the way. But she couldn’t very well go running after him with her dress falling around her.
She wanted so much to say something to him. The problem was, she didn’t have any idea what that something would be.
It was all over.
Jacob Montgomery was gone, and he wasn't coming back. Mrs. Carnegie was right. The man had needed to sneak back without his sister just to be able to speak with her. He was just a puppet and his sister held his strings. The haughty woman would be hard to please, and she would probably be mortified if she knew what things were being taught at the ranch.
Lizzy tried to tell herself that a man who let his sister sway him that much was the kind of man she didn’t want for a husband anyway. Besides, she wasn’t destined to marry a man from back east; she was to become a Western bride. The brim of her future husband's hat would be anything but flat.
