by E. E. Burke
David scrubbed his fingers through his hair. How the devil had he become infatuated with Victoria when she hadn’t even been here a full day? Admittedly, she was beautiful, and she’d been kind to Fannie. Other pretty women had been kind, and he hadn’t wanted to kiss any of them.
Fannie stood, clutching her dolly, and took off back inside the store, running to her aunt. She rarely ran to him when she was scared, maybe because he wasn’t very good at offering comfort. She needed a woman’s touch. All the more reason he had to work things out with Victoria. For the time being, though, there was no point in pushing Fannie to accept a new mother. She liked the doll, after she got used to Victoria, she would like her, too.
A creak came from the staircase.
He stiffened.
“David?” Hearing Victoria call his name released a tendril of excitement. She’d said it so sweetly when she’d begged him to kiss her.
Upstairs, he’d noticed her eyeing him with interest. He had to admit that felt good, especially after Rachel had damn near emasculated him when she left him for another man. He’d only intended to give Victoria a chaste kiss. That intention had flown right out the window the moment she let him taste her. When she’d begged him for more, he’d stopped thinking.
“I’m over here.” He had to make his way around boxes to get to the stairs, and by the time he reached her, she had made it to the bottom step.
Standing on a six-inch riser, she still wasn’t at eye level. So dainty. He should’ve considered that before he shoved her into the bedroom and climbed on top of her.
She peered anxiously in the direction of the door leading into the store. “Did you find Fannie? Is she all right?”
“Everything’s fine. I explained.” At Victoria’s look of horror, he quickly amended just what he’d explained. “Only that we’ll soon be married. About the other, like you said, she doesn’t understand.”
“Thank goodness.” Victoria kept her gaze averted. Embarrassment? She hadn’t seemed to have that problem earlier. She tucked back a golden strand, one of several loosened from the heavy knot atop her head. “Do you suppose she might’ve thought we were wrestling?”
At least one of them could joke about it.
“I should’ve let you do the explaining, that makes more sense than what I said—that I was helping you and we fell.
She cast her eyes downward. “I’m so ashamed. The way I behaved…”
“Don’t be.” He didn’t want her to regret her attraction to him. She’d given him back his confidence. He’d been sleepwalking through life until she came along. “I’m the one who should apologize.”
She finally raised her eyes and looked very relieved. “You won’t think poorly of me for—”
“Letting me kiss you? No. I enjoyed it. Very much.”
“So did I.” Her lips curved upward. His body throbbed with painful readiness.
Without thinking, he took her arms and drew her closer for another kiss. There was no reason they had to wait until Christmas, considering he’d compromised her.
Or had he?
He stopped, inches from her lips, as his brain fought to regain control. The scandal she’d mentioned, somewhat vaguely. Quite possibly, she was already compromised. That would explain her desire for a hurried wedding and why she’d thrown herself at him.
His chest tightened until breathing became difficult. He released her and took a step back, frantically calculating how long it had been since she’d responded to the advertisement. Six months? She’d be too far along to hide a pregnancy, and her stomach looked flat. Not to mention, he’d been sprawled on top of her. He would’ve noticed a bump.
“David?”
He jerked his gaze to her face, and her blush deepened. From innocence, or guilt?
“Come with me.” He would take her to his office. Everyone within earshot didn’t need to hear them when he demanded she explain what she’d meant by scandal.
“What’s wrong?” Victoria easily slid through the narrow space between the file drawers and his desk. A pregnant woman wouldn’t fit. So, she might not be carrying an illegitimate child, but it was possible she’d engaged in an affair and that’s why she’d been jilted.
“There’s something I need to ask you…have a seat.” He offered her the only chair, and then leaned back against the edge of the desk.
“What is it?” She curled her hands in her lap, gazing up at him, heartbreakingly anxious.
His determination wavered. Oddly enough, he wasn’t angry as much as disappointed. He understood why she wouldn’t want anyone to know about her dalliance. It was possible she had simply trusted the wrong man. Confronting her about the loss of her innocence would be hurtful. If he’d guessed wrong, she would be so offended she would never forgive him, and he would’ve thrown away a golden opportunity.
* * *
Victoria’s teeth chattered on account of the cold office, or a bad case of nerves. David was staring at her hands, or looking at her lap. While she stood on the stairs, he’d been ogling her midsection, possibly her breasts. Embarrassment drove away the remaining chill.
“You never told me why you answered a matrimonial advertisement.” His question came out of the blue, and had no bearing on what had just happened.
Nevertheless, she would answer, and hopefully address whatever it was that had caused him to stop. She yearned for another kiss, but he was obviously in no mood for kissing, so she rested her hands on her knees and sat up straight, as she’d been taught.
“My father has investments in a number of factories. One of them, a shirt factory, burned down in August…or was it September?” She couldn’t think clearly with David frowning at her.
“I went to see if I could help the seamstresses who were put out of work. All them are young women, many are single, and some are supporting children. One poor young woman—Gabrielle—had been abused by her stepfather, so she’d left home and gone to work at the factory. She had nowhere to turn if she couldn’t support herself. She was desperate.”
“The owner was unwilling to assist them, even though he told my father they’d be taken care of, so I made a donation out of my own funds. I didn’t realize at the time how much cash I might need later. But that’s not the point. I befriended the manager, Roberta McDaniel…”
Victoria gazed at one of the filing drawers, trying to sort through a jumble of memories on top of worries. “Dear Roberta, she’s very dedicated to the workers, and concerned about her friends. She recommended that the ladies consider answering advertisements from men looking to marry, become mail-order brides. I should write to her, find out how she’s fared with her groom in Wisconsin. A dairy farmer, I believe. I told her I’d selected a shopkeeper. I don’t think I could bring myself to milk cows…”
“What are you talking about?” David’s gruff voice snapped her attention to his dark, suspicious gaze.
She didn’t like the way he’d directed her to the chair and then leaned against the desk, which made it seem like he was looking down at her. “I am answering your question. How I obtained a copy of the Grooms’ Gazette. It came from Miss McDaniel, only she would be a Mrs. now.”
How bravely that young woman had faced her unknown fate.
“Miss McDaniel’s courage convinced me to take my destiny into my own hands. She even allowed me to use her apartment address, so my family wouldn’t find your letters. I thought starting over as a mail-order bride would be good for me.”
Actually, she imagined it would be romantic, and it had been, when she received David’s first letter. She waited, hoping he might respond by affirming his affections.
Instead, he folded his arms across his chest. If only he’d put them around her as he had before, so she wouldn’t think he despised her. “You left a fortune behind to answer an ad from a divorced shopkeeper.”
No, she’d left a fortune behind for a man she thought might love her.
She looked down, feeling foolish and discouraged. He had revived her hopes and dr
eams through his letters. Just moments ago, they’d shared the most magical kiss. Now he acted like she’d done something wrong. She didn’t understand the reason for his ire, and his distrust was breaking her heart. “I left because of the scandal I told you about it. My former fiancé jilted me, and then he married my sister. He shamed and humiliated me. How could I stay after that?”
When David didn’t answer, she lifted her head to look at him.
His scowl had softened. “Why didn’t your father defend your honor?”
She wrung her hands in her lap. Her father’s indifference had always hurt her, but it was his betrayal she would never get over. “My father wanted his first-born to be a son. He told my mother as much, said he had no use for a female heir. She took me away and they were estranged until she died. Less than a year later, he remarried a woman who had a son and a daughter. He adopted them and gave his full attention to grooming Charles. My stepmother doted on Louisa. She virtually ignored me—until Bertram paid me suit. Then she turned positively mean. I realized later it was because she wanted Bertram to marry Louisa. I’m sure she had a hand in getting them together. They had an affaire de coeur. When they were caught, they had to marry.”
The surprise on David’s face drove a nail through Victoria’s heart. Now she understood why he acted as if she’d wronged him.
“Did you presume I was the one at fault? Why? Because I kissed you?” She swallowed the urge to cry. No, she would not break down. She should never have tried to woo David. Despite his reassurances, it was obvious he believed the worst about her. Well, if he wanted the whole ugly truth, he would have it.
“My father didn’t believe me either, and I gave him less reason to doubt me. He accepted my stepmother’s story when she told him I’d driven Bertram away, and he threatened to marry me off to one of his business associates. That’s why I had to get away from him. But I wouldn’t have agreed to this marriage if I hadn’t thought you…”
No, she refused to humiliate herself further by admitting to her romantic notions, or making excuses for her foolish behavior.
“Victoria, I…” David shook his head.
He still didn’t believe her. The crack in her heart widened.
“Bertram pressed me for more than I was willing to give. Then he told all his friends I was the one who broke off the engagement because I disliked the prospect of marital relations.” She met David’s horrified gaze. What a disaster she’d brought about by kissing him. Really, she should’ve known better. “Ironic, isn’t it? With you, I behaved like a wanton, and Bertram thinks I’m a cold fish.”
* * *
David knelt at Victoria’s side. He laid his hand on the arm of the chair, didn’t dare touch her after what he’d put her through. Her shoulders were slumped. She looked beaten. Defeated. No wonder she hadn’t shared these things in a letter. She’d been abused and shamed by the very people who should have loved and protected her. Hot rage coursed through him at the thought of Victoria’s father forcing her to wed some lecher twice her age.
“Your father is an ass.”
She slid a wounded glance in his direction. “I won’t argue that.”
“And Bertram ought to be horsewhipped.”
“Are you volunteering to do the honors?”
“Gladly.”
The half-smile melted away as her expression slid back into sadness. “I fear I’ve given you the wrong impression. There’s nothing I can do to prove my innocence.”
Guilt gnawed at his gut. Victoria had come out here thinking he believed in her. He could tell her he hadn’t written those letters, but what good would that do? It would only make her feel worse, and more alone than ever.
“You don’t have to prove anything.” He shifted to one knee. “I don’t think you’re wanton.” He couldn’t leave it at that. “You aren’t cold, either. Far from it.”
She stared off at some far point, at a place in her memory. “Everyone believed Bertram, not me. I was so humiliated. There was no one I could turn to. At one point, I considered ending my life.”
Her life must’ve been hell if she’d been willing to languish in purgatory. The thought of it sent an awful chill through him. He grasped the chair arm with both hands. “Don’t even consider doing something like that.”
She straightened into the prim posture she’d adopted earlier. “Lowells don’t commit suicide. It just isn’t done.”
A regretful smile tugged at his lips. She had faced rejection and humiliation, and still she kept her chin up along with a sense of humor. “Forgive me for doubting you. I understand now why you did what you did. You must’ve been desperate.”
Her brow furrowed and the hurt returned to her eyes. “Do you really think so little of me?”
“No, no, of course not. I meant…” He’d done it again, insulted her without meaning to, and she wasn’t the desperate one, anyway. He had to find a good mother for Fannie. That was the most important thing, and he couldn’t lose sight of it. If Victoria’s success thus far with the doll was any indication, his sister’s mail-order bride could be exactly what he was looking for—if he didn’t drive her away first.
“Victoria, I don’t think poorly of you.” He wasn’t gifted with words, but he could come up with something better than that. “On the contrary, I think you’re brave and beautiful, and…you’ve already made Fannie happy.”
She searched his eyes with frank appraisal. “I’m glad I’ve contributed to Fannie’s happiness. But I can assure you, Mr. O’Brien, I am not so desperate I’d marry a man who distrusts me.”
Chapter 6
Early the next morning, David left the apartment. Victoria hadn’t stirred. He didn’t knock to let her know he was leaving, telling himself she needed her sleep after a long, exhausting day. Not only that, he wasn’t sure how to undo the damage he’d done.
He had given into his suspicions rather than trusting his deeper instincts. There was a reason he’d been drawn to her. She had an innate kindness and sensitivity, something he lacked. He had sensed she would be good with Fannie, and he wouldn’t easily find another woman like her.
Now, he might lose her.
He’d insulted her by doubting her innocence. She would lose what little faith remained when he told her he wasn’t the one who had won her trust to begin with. He wasn’t sure what he should do. Tell her the truth and hope for the best, or let her get over this latest offense before he broke her heart again.
He took his usual route down Wall Street, an ambitious nod to the better-known financial district in New York. The heels of his shoes rapped against the brick pavement as he crossed the street and passed the railroad land office, located next door to his landlord.
Yesterday had been the first of the month; the day David paid his rent. In all the commotion, he’d forgotten about it. He’d never been late on a payment before, and he vowed he never would be again. Promptness demonstrated respect, and he owed Mr. O’Connor both.
Eight years ago, when he’d approached the wealthy businessman about renting the property where his parents’ store had sat, O’Connor had given him generous terms, and offered to advise him. David valued their friendship, and he considered Buck O’Connor the closest thing he had to a father.
As usual, Mr. O’Connor invited him in, offered coffee and launched into conversation. Their meetings generally ran an hour or more, and not just because his landlord had a gregarious nature. He always took time to inquire about how David’s business was going and provide helpful suggestions.
Today, David didn’t have time for an extended visit. He had to get back to the store, and to Victoria. He hadn’t mentioned his upcoming nuptials, not wanting to get into an even longer discussion. After the pleasantries, he stood to take his leave.
He laid an envelope on the desk. “Here’s the rent for this month. I apologize it’s a day late. I’ll have the money for the building next door by the first of the year.”
“See that you do, and don’t be using a bride as your excuse
for being late next month.” O’Connor’s craggy face didn’t crack. Not even a hint of a smile. His pale eyes, however, gleamed with amusement.
“I take it you’ve been talking to Phineas Gregg.”
“His wife posted a public notice in the Gulf depot.” O’Connor said with a deadpan expression.
He stood, a towering figure at well over six feet, and came around the desk. The man had to be over fifty, but he still moved with youthful energy. His fair hair, mostly white now, was as thick and unruly as David’s, and also brushed his collar. He frequently went around with his shirtsleeves rolled up over ropy forearms, and he preferred leather vests to three-piece suits. He also wore a gun.
David had never seen him use the firearm, but he’d heard talk of a checkered past. Confederate guerilla, outlaw, spy for the Settlers’ Land League—those were only a few of Mr. O’Connor’s previous occupations. He’d settled down twenty years ago with a wealthy widow, who was a fascinating character in her own right, having lost and made several fortunes. The couple lived in a grand manor on the rich side of town.
“Congratulations.” The taller man gripped David’s shoulder and put out his hand.
David grasped the calloused palm in a firm shake. “Thank you, sir.”
“When’s the big day?”
“Christmas Eve.”
O’Connor stepped back and arched a sandy eyebrow. “You don’t look too happy.”
David didn’t quite know how to respond. He’d been very content for a short time yesterday, when he’d kissed Victoria. Before everything went to hell.
“It’s complicated.”
His mentor gave a sharp laugh. “Don’t know of a marriage that isn’t. Mine didn’t start out simple. Would’ve been a sight easier if we both weren’t so bull headed. I wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Amy, she’s my…” He seemed to search for the right word.
David offered a favorite maxim. “Your better half?”
The older man’s attention sharpened. “Better than what? She sure as hell didn’t have much to work with, but she took me on anyway. Amy gave me a heart. She gave me back my life. There’s no half to it. Without her, I wouldn’t be whole.” His lips twisted in wry smile. “That doesn’t mean it can’t get complicated from time to time.”
