The Texan's Inherited Family

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The Texan's Inherited Family Page 18

by Noelle Marchand


  The entrance room was only a little smaller than the entire living room and kitchen area of his house. It had mahogany floors and archways that gleamed in the soft sunlight spilling from the windows. A grand staircase split to allow access to two sides of the upper floor. An antique grandfather clock that looked older than America itself clanged as though announcing the hour of his doom. No way would he ever deserve the love of a woman who grew up in a place like this. If this was just the beginning, he’d better turn around and keep on walking until he made it back to Peppin.

  Escape became impossible when a man whom Quinn sure hoped was in the McKennas’ employ obligingly and almost soundlessly made off with Quinn’s hat and coat. Meanwhile, the children vanished up the stairs with Helen and her mother. Robert urged him to follow them with a rather strong slap on the back. “Better go up. The tailor is waiting to do a final fitting.”

  “Tailor?” His voice echoed through the corridor with enough grandiosity to match the surroundings.

  A faint smile quirked Robert’s mouth. “Our wives arranged for you to have a few things made so that you’ll be comfortable during your stay here.”

  “Are you sure comfortable is the right word?” he asked, glancing at the man’s current attire. It looked like a more fashionable, higher-quality version of Quinn’s Sunday go-to-meeting clothes. He knew from experience that those weren’t comfortable in the least.

  He earned a chuckle from his father-in-law. “Believe me. Being inappropriately dressed at a society function would be a far more uncomfortable experience than wearing whatever clothes our wives deem necessary. Besides, don’t you want to make Helen proud to be escorted by you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then up the left side of the staircase you go.”

  “Yes, sir.” The echo made his heavy sigh sound excessively dramatic. Once he made it up the stairs, he followed the sound of voices to find his family.

  Lucille was introducing the children to a nanny she’d hired to see to their needs during their stay. Quinn waited until his nephews and nieces followed the nanny into the nursery, which would function as their bedroom, before protesting, “You didn’t need to go to the trouble of hiring a nanny, Mrs. McKenna. Helen and I can handle them and they’re usually very well behaved.”

  “It’s Lucille and I’m quite certain everything you said is true. I just thought this visit would be more restful and smooth for all of you this way. It was quite easy to arrange because the nanny was recommended by a dear friend of mine.” Suddenly, dismay widened Lucille’s eyes. “Oh, dear. I do hope I haven’t offended you by hiring her. I know you and Helen are perfectly capable of seeing to them on your own.”

  He wanted to tell her that wasn’t what he’d been thinking, but it was exactly what he’d been thinking. Why was he being so sensitive about everything today? He shook his head. “I just don’t want you to feel that you have to go out of your way for us.”

  Now she looked offended. “Of course I’ll go out my way for you, young man. You’re family now, and that’s how this family operates. Isn’t that right, Helen?”

  Helen grinned. “Yes, indeed.”

  “All right, then. Thank you, Lucille.”

  “You’re welcome.” She reached out to squeeze his hand and met his gaze with a smile. “Truly, you are welcome here. I hope you will come to think of this house as your second home.”

  “I’d like that.” He relaxed a little and gave her hand a gentle squeeze in return. “By the way, Robert said something about a tailor?”

  Lucille gasped. “Oh, dear. I completely forgot. He should be waiting in your room.”

  Quinn moved to follow the woman as she hurried down the hallway, but Helen tugged at his arm and moved closer to speak in a low tone, “I’m sorry. I meant to tell you about this. I realized a few days ago that you didn’t have any formal clothes besides the ones you wear to church, so I sent Mother your measurements. She had a few things made for you by Father’s tailor, who is one of the best in the city. Everything should be ready for the final fitting.”

  He nodded slowly as he processed everything. She was right about him not having clothes—at least, not the right kind for this setting. That much was obvious now. “I should have thought of it myself. It’s a good thing you arranged it since I wouldn’t have known how.”

  Relief softened her features before worry once more marred her brow. “I really did mean to tell you sooner...”

  “Don’t worry about it anymore.” He stared at her hard to let her know he meant more than just the clothes. “I know you’ve had a lot to handle in making this trip happen. I appreciate that. It’s all just a little...”

  “Overwhelming?” she asked with a smile. “I imagine it must be akin to what I felt those first few days on the farm. I thought I’d never measure up to being the woman you and the children needed me to be. I might have seemed confident on the outside, but I was quaking on the inside.”

  “You measured up just fine, Helen.”

  “Thank you.” She placed a comforting hand on his chest. “So will you, Quinn. I know it.”

  Her confidence in him meant more to him than her parents’ fancy carriages, Texas-size mansion and expensive clothes. If she believed in him, then he had an honest-to-goodness shot at making a success of this visit. More important, he had a chance at becoming the kind of man he wanted to be. The kind of man who could win her heart.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In contrast to the cozy and immensely enjoyable Thanksgiving dinner Helen’s family had partaken of on Thursday, Saturday’s reception was a crush. Most of her father’s associates had shown up, including the governor, a state senator, a few state representatives and many prominent businessmen. Their wives made up her mother’s close-knit social circle. Each one of them made a point to welcome Helen back into their society’s embrace with hugs, cheek kisses, compliments and an entire litany of the most recent gossip.

  Her old circle of friends approached her a bit more cautiously, which she knew was no one’s fault but her own. She hadn’t corresponded with any of them after she left. Many had also been Thomas’s friends, which added an undercurrent of awkwardness to their interactions. She didn’t ask about him nor did anyone mention him. However, more than once a conversation suddenly hushed as she passed.

  She’d been looking forward to this event if for no other reason than that she would no longer be thought of as a jilted fiancée but as a contented wife and mother. Now she found that their opinions meant little, their conversations were shallow and she longed for nothing more than to escape upstairs to the nursery. That wouldn’t help, for the children were surely fast asleep at this hour.

  Realizing she’d been standing alone for a few minutes, she glanced around in search of Quinn. She finally spotted him in a conversation with several men, including her father and the governor. Clad in a jet-black tailcoat with a white waistcoat and white necktie that accentuated the broad width of his shoulders and slim hips, he looked far more at ease than she’d expected him to be. He also seemed to be enjoying himself more than she was.

  He caught her watching him and sent her a wink that made her eyes widen in panic. Polite gentleman simply did not wink at their wives in public. Thankfully, it had not been so brazenly done that anyone else noticed. She meant to send him a scolding frown but found herself smiling and shaking her head slowly instead. The governor placed a hand on his shoulder, stealing back his attention.

  She decided to take a break from the crowd. Despite being one of the honorees at the reception, no one stopped her as she slipped out of her parents’ ballroom. She told the butler that she’d be in the sunroom for a few minutes if anyone needed her. She went directly there after borrowing a candle from a nearby wall sconce. The circular room was chilly, but the view it provided of the night sky was worth the discomfort. She’d just placed the
candle on an end table when she heard movement from the far corner of the room. “Who’s there?”

  A man stepped closer to the flickering circle of candlelight. He was dressed as though he was a guest at the party, although he most certainly was not. He toasted her with the silver flask in his hands but didn’t bother to bring it to his smirking lips. “Good evening, Helen.”

  She gasped. “Tom.”

  He edged toward her, capping the flask in his hand with a bit of difficulty. His gaze raked over her dress. His speech was unmistakably slurred. “You look ravishing. That dark shade of pink was always my favorite color on you. Did I ever tell you that?”

  “You’re drunk.”

  He waved her comment away with a broad sweep of his hand. “Don’t be rude.”

  “How did you get in here?”

  “I—” his fingers made a crawling motion in the air “—sneaked in.”

  “Well—” she copied his motion “—sneak right out again.”

  “No.” He rubbed his hands over his face, pulled in a sobering breath and shook his head as though to clear it. “I am in full possession of my faculties. What’s more, I have things to say. I’m not leaving until I say them.”

  “Then I will.” She rounded the furniture to head toward the door.

  He cut off her escape path and her attempts to get around him. “Please, don’t leave. I’m trying to tell you that I still love you.”

  “I don’t care. Let—” She froze, stared at him in disbelief. “What did you say?”

  “I love you. I can’t stop thinking about you. All my life my father has ingrained in me the importance of passing our fortune to the next generation. I couldn’t do that with you. However, I believe I might have been a bit hasty in ending things between us.”

  She shook her head as she tried to reconcile this with everything she’d told herself about love making the difference for her when Quinn found out. But if Tom had loved her, and still rejected her when she told him of her condition, did that mean that love wouldn’t be enough for Quinn, either? “I don’t understand. What are you trying to say? That my inability to have children doesn’t matter to you now?”

  He stepped closer. “No, it matters. So does my love for you.”

  “Actually, it doesn’t, because I’m married to someone else.” She swept a hand toward the ballroom. “It’s sort of the reason we’re having this little party.”

  “I know.” He erased the distance between them. “That doesn’t mean we can’t see each other from time to time. You can’t have children, so no one would know—”

  He caught her arm when she would have slapped him. She tried to wrench from his grasp, but he wouldn’t allow it. “How dare you even suggest such a thing? Let me go. If someone should see us like this—”

  He jerked her closer. “You mean, if your husband should see us like this. Why do you care? You only married him for his children.”

  “That isn’t—”

  “Uh-uh.” He shook his head. “That’s the funny thing about lying, my dear. It doesn’t change the truth. You’re using him just as some common fortune hunter would use an heiress—to get something you couldn’t have on your own. Money or children. What’s the difference?”

  He was right and she knew it. He must have sensed it, for he grinned. “Come now, Helen. Drop the righteous indignation. We both know you don’t love him. How could you?”

  She felt her eyes flash as his words illuminated the truth within her. “You’re wrong. I do...I do love him.”

  His green eyes bored into hers, examining and recognizing her feelings for what they were. Hurt unfurled in his gaze then hardened into something vengeful. He tilted his head. “Ah, but have you told him? Have you told him what you told me? No, I can see you haven’t. It’s written all over your face. Perhaps I ought to tell him myself. Clear the field, so to speak.”

  Desperation and panic froze her in place. “Tom, you wouldn’t.”

  “I might.” His mouth tilted into a wry smile. “The funny thing is, I’m not sure if he’d care with the overabundance of children he already has. That was smart on your part. What worries me are the lies you must have told and the truths you must have covered up. That’s what drives a man crazy. He’d wonder again and again what else he didn’t know, what else you may have lied about.”

  Any fight she had left within her drained away. Her gaze lowered. She’d seen that very thing happening already.

  “Poor fellow. I almost feel bad for him. Not quite so bad that I wouldn’t steal his wife. Or, can you steal what never belonged to someone else in the first place?”

  Her words came out in a near whisper. “He’s my husband. Of course I belong to him.”

  “No.” He smiled. “You belong to me. Always have. Always will. My only mistake was in thinking I had to marry you. You, my dear, are best suited for other purposes.”

  She gasped. Searching his face for the man she’d once wanted to marry, she found only resentment and anger instead. “How can you say these things?”

  “I say them because they are true. I love you in spite of all your damage. No, because of it. That is something your husband will never do.” He leaned closer to whisper in her ear, “When he rejects you—and he will—you know where to find me.”

  The moment he let her go, she ran for the door. She reached it just as Quinn entered the room. He caught her arms when she stumbled into his chest. Startled, he looked down at her then across to Thomas. Releasing her, Quinn crossed the room in two strides. One solid punch across the jaw sent Thomas stumbling backward until he hit the back wall of glass then slid down to rest on his backside. Quinn stood over him menacingly. “Who are you, and what have you done to my wife?”

  Thomas didn’t bother to get up. He moved his jaw to see if it still worked. Satisfied, he glanced at Helen with wicked mischief in his eyes. She held her breath. Would he go through with his threat to tell Quinn the truth about her? He smiled up at Quinn. “We were just talking, friend. Just talking.”

  Quinn’s gaze fell to hers as she tugged on his arm. She needed to separate them before Thomas changed his mind. “Helen, did he hurt you?”

  Emotionally and mentally? Yes. Physically? “No.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Thomas Coyle.” She felt Quinn’s muscle bulge with tension beneath her hands. “Please, let’s go. He’s leaving now, too.”

  Quinn ignored her, growling, “What did you say to her?”

  Tom lifted a knowing brow. “Nothing she’d want you to know.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Helen answered before Tom could. “It means he told me he loved me. I told him I didn’t care.”

  “Is that all?”

  “That’s all that mattered.”

  “May I get up now without you sending me right back to the floor?” At Quinn’s short nod, Tom stood. He brushed himself off. Edging to the door, he paused long enough to smirk and lift his flask in a toast. “Many happy returns to the lovely couple and if not...”

  She interpreted his meaningful glance to her to be an echo of his earlier words. You know where to find me.

  For Quinn’s benefit, he finally said, “So much the better.”

  This time he drank deeply of the flask as he disappeared. Her relief was momentary as she realized he might be heading straight for the ballroom. She grabbed Quinn’s arm. “Make sure he doesn’t go into the reception.”

  Quinn rushed to the door and peered out. “He went down the side hall toward the back door. You’re sure you aren’t hurt?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Did he take liberties with you? If so, I’ll—”

  “I’m fine. Please, don’t ask any more questions. Not right now.” He reached out a hand to stop her, but she evaded his grasp to walk out
the door. “I don’t think I feel up to returning to the party. Give my excuses to Mother.”

  His plea came soft and low. “Helen.”

  She shook her head and hurried up the stairs to her room with Tom’s words nipping at her heels. They were waiting for her as she swept down the hallway to her bedroom. When he rejects you—and he will—you know where to find me... I love you in spite of all your damage. No, because of it. That’s something your husband will never do...

  His words wouldn’t be so pervasive, so effective, if she didn’t already believe them to be true. Nearly everything he’d said was an echo of a thought that had filled her mind at some point in the past. The others—the vile ones—she knew couldn’t be true. Yet they felt true because they fell in line with all the others. Now she not only felt damaged but dirty.

  A knock sounded on the door. Her heart began to pound. She couldn’t face Quinn right now. Not in this state and not until she gathered herself. Her mother’s voice filtered through the door. Helen hesitated only a moment before letting her in. Lucille closed the door behind her. “Quinn sent me to check on you. What happened? What did Tom do to you?”

  “He said some pretty nasty things, which I’d rather not repeat.” She moved to the vanity table to remove her earrings.

  Lucille came to stand behind her. “It might help to tell someone.”

  “Not this time.” She turned her back to her mother and placed her hands on her hips. “Will you unbutton me?”

 

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