Libby Learns Her Lesson (Swift Justice Book 3)

by Dinah McLeod

  “Thank you for that,” Mrs. Swift said. “Have a safe trip home, dear.”

  Libby couldn’t help but notice that there hadn’t been a parting hug for her this time. Still, she’d tried. Hopefully her effort would win favor with one of the Swifts today, and if she had her pick, she knew who she would choose.

  But when she said goodbye and went out with Wesley, he felt as distant as a stranger. That hurt more than any spanking he could ever give her.

  Chapter Six

  It had been three miserable days, and she still hadn’t heard from him. At first, she’d told herself that he just needed time. That he’d come back around and be the same old Wesley, the man she’d fallen for. But he didn’t come. He didn’t even send word of when she should expect him next. At this point, she would have settled for bumping into him about town. That would be better than this unending silence.

  If his absence was an added punishment, then it was almost too cruel. The marks from the whipping had faded, and she no longer winced when she sat. But the pain in her heart went deeper and she didn’t have the faintest idea what to do about it.

  “Did you have a spat?” her mother had asked when she’d noticed that two days had crept by without a visit, or even a mention of Wesley’s name. Neither of which stopped Libby from staring longingly at the door.

  For once, there was a lack of rancor in her mother’s voice and she actually found herself compelled to answer. Besides which, she really needed someone to talk to, and since she didn’t waste time making friends, her mother was all she was left with at the moment.

  “Something like that.”

  “He’ll come around. They always do. But you need to stay put. If you go running to him every time you two have a disagreement, you give him the power.”

  Libby turned her face away, hoping that her mother didn’t see the flush in her cheeks. How could she know that Libby had been considering doing just that? But what her mother said made a certain amount of sense. Besides which, if Wesley needed space, she needed to let him have it.

  Of course, it might not have been so bad if there’d been a ray of sunshine in the entire sky, but for three days it had rained and stormed, perfectly matching her mood. Her pa suggested a game of cards, her mother told her to do her needlepoint. She did nothing but stare sullenly at the door, her mood growing sourer with each and every hour that passed without a sign of him.

  Had she ruined everything? She’d thought she’d done the right thing, coming clean. True, it would have been better if she’d never done it in the first place, but she hadn’t been alone in their little feud. Surely Wesley saw that? Maybe if she had a chance to talk to him, she could explain… but no. She was doing as her mother said, for a change, and staying put. Let him come to her, for once.

  But by the fourth afternoon, she was becoming convinced that he wasn’t going to. It was over, she knew it without having to hear him say it aloud. Though, admittedly, she was a bit surprised. She hadn’t thought that Wesley Swift would be the type to leave such business unfinished. It just went to show you that even when you thought you knew a person… but then, wouldn’t he say the same of her?

  Libby’s mother plunked her box of special cookies on the table. “Have one,” she invited.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Say, I hear the dressmaker has some new lace in. She says it’s all the rage in Europe. Perhaps we could—”

  “No, thank you.”

  “It’s not raining today. Perhaps a nice walk, the fresh air—”

  “My shoes will get muddy.”

  “Well, Libby Park, I plain just don’t know what to do with you!”

  She looked up in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’ve been moping around here for darn near a week and I’ve had it. I’ve tried to be patient and considerate, but now I’m telling you to snap out of it.”

  Libby blinked in surprise and then considered her mother’s words. It was funny—now that she thought about it, her mother had been particularly understanding these last few days. She was ashamed that she’d been too wrapped up in herself to notice. She knew how much effort it must have taken, given that she was probably jumping up and down on the inside.

  “You never liked Wesley,” she observed.

  Her mother took a seat beside her and surprised her further by reaching for her hand. “I never disliked the boy, Libby. Oh, I know what you must think, and probably him, too, but the truth is, I just want you to have the very best.”

  “I thought he was,” she admitted in a pained whisper.

  “I know you did, dear. Now, I don’t know what took place between the two of you, but perhaps you’ll mend things, given a little more time.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “Listen, Libby… I know you think I’m hard on you. I suppose I am, a bit.”

  “A bit?” she echoed with a laugh.

  “My mother was hard on me, too. I didn’t understand it at the time, but now I know that she only did what she did out of love for me. She didn’t want me to marry your father, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “It was only because she worried about me. She wanted me to marry a man that would always be able to provide for me, and any children we had. That’s all I want for you. But I am sorry that this man doesn’t have the good sense to know quality when it’s right in front of him.”

  “I’m not livestock, Mama,” she snorted, but she couldn’t help but smile nonetheless.

  “You can’t keep lying around here all day, wallowing in misery. If you won’t have a cookie, or take a walk, perhaps a change of scenery would suit you?”

  “What did you have in mind?” She hid a smile as her mother did a double-take.

  “Ah, well, you know I have some relatives back East. Perhaps you could stay a few days. You’ll have to take the train, and you’ve always enjoyed that. And they’ll take very good care of you. You can see all the latest fashions and—”

  “Alright.”

  Now her mother was openly gaping. “Alright?”

  “Yes. I’ll go.”

  Tentatively, with barely hidden excitement, she inquired, “Perhaps there’s a gentleman or two who could stop by? Just to introduce themselves, you understand. Your uncle runs a very profitable business, and he has some men that come to dinner from time to time—”

  “Okay, Mama.”

  She was out-and-out smiling now, though she tried to hide it behind her hand. “Now, it’s just a thought, but if you don’t think you’re up to it, then by all means…”

  “I’ll go pack.”

  “You will?”

  Libby gave one decisive nod.

  She leapt to her feet and began pacing as she began to rattle off a list of things that had to be done, straightaway. “I’ll need to send a telegram, and arrange for a train ticket and, oh, are you sure you don’t want to go to the dressmaker’s?”

  “If I’m leaving, I’m leaving in the morning,” she replied in a tone that would brook no argument.

  Her mother apparently decided not to push her luck, because she nodded eagerly in agreement. “Well, in that case, let’s get you packed.”

  * * *

  Libby tried to let the scenery whirring by distract her. Normally, she loved nothing more than a train ride. She liked watching the world passing by through her window in a tapestry of color, and she relished the prospect of seeing new things. This time, however, her heart just wasn’t in it. Even the new hat her mother had insisted on buying her for the journey hadn’t helped to lift her spirits.

  Try as she might, she couldn’t get Wesley out of her mind. She couldn’t help it—she couldn’t eat for the wrenching loneliness she felt in the pit of her stomach. She could hardly sleep, because every time her eyelids fluttered closed, her mind’s eye filled with the picture of his perfect, angular face, his strong jaw, and wheat-blond hair. Sometimes, she imagined his brown eyes blazing with anger, his features etched into a scow
l. And others, she saw him the way he looked at her when his face was filled with tenderness toward her. Both made her insides clench, for different reasons.

  Oh, if only, if only she hadn’t been so stupid. It was the one thought that kept reverberating through her head no matter how many times she tried to silence it. After nearly a week, she’d plumb stopped trying and had accepted that she might spend the rest of her life withering away with dark circles under her eyes, with if only on the tip of her tongue.

  She knew she’d been a fool. Perhaps she was an even bigger one now to leave. Perhaps she should have waited, just a day longer…

  But no. Her mother had been right about that. She couldn’t keep moping around the house for a man who might never come. And chances were that if he’d been planning to come, he would have, by now.

  Perhaps going to visit her mother’s family was just the thing she needed. It certainly couldn’t make matters any worse.

  And if she should happen to find someone who could make her smile… if she should find a reason to stay… well, there would never be anyone who could compare to Wesley, she knew that well. Even so, perhaps it would be best to be safely out of the way, where she wouldn’t risk bumping into him and the woman he chose to court next.

  Libby slumped in her seat and tried to rest her head on her arm. She closed her eyes, but after a few moments she opened them again with a long, resigned sigh. It was no use. She would just have to stay awake until she got there. Perhaps after supper she’d manage to sleep from pure exhaustion.

  * * *

  Her uncle’s cook laid out quite an impressive table, indeed. There were three types of meat—mutton, stewed, sliced, and fried—plus creamed potatoes, carrots in butter, and a heaping basket of bread that smelled so delicious it had made her mouth water before she even got to the table. She’d taken helpings of everything, but passed on the peas. It made her think of the Swifts, and she was determined to do her darndest to enjoy herself, which was why she resolutely turned her head away from the bowl, refusing to so much as look at them.

  She’d been much younger the last time she’d spent any time with her uncle and his wife. The couple had remained childless and was more than happy to take Libby in. Indeed, they doted on her to the point where she couldn’t believe they all came from the same family tree.

  They lived in a big, fine home, with a butler to answer the door, a maid that tidied the house, and a cook to prepare their meals. It was the same home her mother had grown up in, and seeing it with fresh, adult eyes, Libby could well understand why her mother would miss the creature comforts she’d grown up with.

  The same ones that she’d longed for Libby herself to receive. She’d been with them for two days now, and she had to admit that it was nice having someone lay out her dress every morning, someone there to help her if she should require it. Indeed, they seemed eager to fulfill her every whim. She’d taken her Arbuckle in her room this very morning, drinking out of a porcelain cup as she stared out the window. She could get used to this.

  It would never make up for what she’d lost, but if she couldn’t have Wesley, at least she could have someone there to brush her hair and tie her stays. The thought made her giggle, which in itself surprised her. She hadn’t laughed in days.

  “Did I say something to amuse you, Miss Park?”

  She looked at the man who had addressed her. Mr. Spalding, she believed. He was not yet thirty, but balding, hard as he tried to pretend otherwise by combing it over. When he’d introduced himself, he’d informed her that he was a self-made businessman. She supposed she was meant to be impressed by this, though she’d only managed to be polite. He wore expensive trousers and a button-up shirt, but neither did much to hide the paunch he carried over his belt. Worse still was the dour expression he wore, seemingly, at all times. She couldn’t imagine he’d ever amused anyone in all his life.

  “Oh, do forgive me, Mr. Spalding. I was only remembering something my mother said.”

  “Well, since regaling you with the story of my week is apparently so boring, please, do enlighten us,” he said with pursed lips.

  Libby glanced over at her aunt just in time to see her cover her mouth with a napkin. Hiding a smile, no doubt. She turned her gaze back to the irritated Mr. Spalding. She knew she was meant to be nice to him, and she was truly trying, but the man was frightfully dull.

  “You’d probably find it tiresome. Please, do go on.”

  He opened his mouth to respond, not looking one mite happier at having been ignored, when they heard raised voices in the house.

  “Excuse me, sir, but you can’t go in there. They are not expecting you. You haven’t even been announced!”

  “I don’t need you to announce me, I can do that perfectly fine on my own, thank you kindly.”

  Libby’s entire body went still. She knew that drawl—she’d know that voice anywhere!

  Just then, the door burst open. Wesley strode purposefully inside the dining room, trailed by a very unhappy butler.

  “I tried to stop him, sir, I—”

  “Quite alright, Isaac. Young man, I don’t know who you think you are, but bursting in uninvited is simply unacceptable. I’m afraid I’m going to have to show you to the door.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Libby saw Uncle Henry rising from his chair. She pushed back her own chair and followed suit, her entire body trembling. Wesley hadn’t said a word, only stood there and stared at her, his heart in his eyes. His face looked like it was going through myriad emotions—no sooner had she thought she’d picked one out, it changed again.

  “Libby?” Uncle Henry queried. “Do you know this gentleman?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is this your young man?” Aunt Juliette asked.

  “Her young man?” An indignant Mr. Spalding asked. “She has a ‘young man’?”

  Libby ignored him, as did the rest of the people at the table. She only had eyes for Wesley.

  “Should you—”

  “Libby, would you join me in the parlor for a moment?” Wesley spoke over her uncle. She knew he hadn’t meant to be disrespectful. He was simply in the same state as she was—feeling wretched, but somehow full of hope all at the same time. She could see it in every line of his tense frame and knew that it probably mirrored her own.

  Her only answer was to glide away from the table and toward him, putting her hand in the one he extended toward her.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, folks. This’ll just take a minute.”

  And they left together, hand in hand. A still ruffled Isaac closed the doors once they were through.

  As he led her into the parlor, she couldn’t help but keep sneaking glances at his suddenly unreadable profile. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was as much a jumble of nerves as she was. She had been thinking of this moment for days, praying for it to come, running over and over in her mind what she’d say if it did. But now that it was here, she found herself plumb speechless.

  Wesley guided her to the finely upholstered couch and bid her to take a seat. She did so, clasping her hands in her lap and staring down at them. She could feel the couch shift as he took a seat beside her, but he didn’t speak. Not for a long while.

  Finally, he cleared his throat. “Libby, what were you thinkin’, runnin’ off like that?”

  Her head snapped up even as her mouth dropped open. “What was I thinking?” she echoed incredulously. “I was thinking that my beau had decided he didn’t want me anymore, that’s what!” The words just popped out before she could stop them. So much for the flowery apologies she’d planned. Oh, well. Best he know how she truly felt, and if she was going to tell it true, she was a little angry. She understood why he’d been upset with her—he’d had every right to be. But to just leave her stewing for a week was plain unacceptable.

  “You thought… but why?”

  Oh, now he was just being ridiculous! She took a deep breath to calm down before she spoke again, lest she forget herself. No sense in spending mor
e time than she already had wishing she’d done things differently—this might be the only chance she got.

  “Wesley, you… you spanked me and then I didn’t hear a word from you. You said you needed some time, but you went days and days without coming, without telling me when you would. So, I assumed you’d decided I wasn’t worth the trouble and had chosen to move on.”

  His eyes widened in sudden understanding and he reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. “Libby, I am so sorry. That wasn’t my intention at all. I meant to come the very next day, but it started to rain and we had to worry about getting the hay inside. Then, wouldn’t you know it, the next day our broodmare went and broke her leg and I had to ride for the vet. Did you know the closest vet is near a day’s ride away?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Well, Ma was bound and determined that we had to see if something could be done. It was the last horse my pa bought, you see. It’s been a long week.” He shook his head ruefully. “I thought of sending Maggie to give word, but… well, all things considered I thought…”

  She could well understand what he’d thought. And though she wished he had, it did make her feel better hearing him explain. “How’s the horse?”

  “How’s the…” He chuckled at her. “You really are something else, Libby. That’s why I love you.”

  His words sent a pleasurable flush running through her entire body. Not that she was ready to let him off the hook—not yet.

  “She’s alright, I reckon. The vet charged an arm and a leg to come all that way, and to set her leg, but if we can keep her off it, there’s hope. My pa is probably rolling in his grave this very minute at the expense.”

  “Well, at least it made your mama happy.”

  “It did at that.”