An Improper Situation (Sanborn-Malloy Historical Romance Series, Book One)

by Baily, Sydney Jane

  He stared at her a moment before settling more comfortably in his seat and sipping his coffee. When he put the cup down, he looked resigned to the ensuing discussion.

  “Very well. But I’m telling you now, Charlotte, this has nothing to do with us. Do you understand that?”

  Charlotte nodded. “Please continue.”

  Reed sighed. “I don’t know why John mentioned her, of all people. She hasn’t even lived in the states for over a decade. Celia was, however, the most beautiful girl in Boston when I was a green youth of eighteen.”

  Charlotte tried to conjure up the image of Reed being anything other than sophisticated, but failed.

  “We moved in the same circles. Her father was a banker and her brother was at Dane Law School at Harvard, two years ahead of me. Naturally, I arranged to be where she was, to show up at the same parties, and always to play the gallant. What I was actually playing was the fool.”

  He said it as a recognized fact, without shame or humiliation or even bitterness. She could think of nothing to say and stayed silent, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

  “For a year, I followed her around, thinking her the sweetest, most desirable female in the world. Though there were other girls—and I’m sure some were quite nice—who showed an interest in me, my eyes could see nothing but Celia. At times, I thought I was close to winning her.” He smiled wryly at his youthful naiveté.

  “She would dance all evening only with me or agree to go riding on the Common. The next day, she would be out with some other young man. I started to give up hope when all of a sudden, she came to me and said that I was being far too slow at courting her. Needless to say, I was astounded . . . and ecstatic. A week later, I bedded her.”

  Charlotte gasped, and Reed locked eyes with her. “You wanted to know.”

  “Yes,” she whispered through the abrupt pain that had no particular location in her body, just an overall jealous ache at his wanting another woman so fervently. “Go on.”

  “It had been over a year of wanting after all. I took the opportunity she gave me, as a drowning man finally being thrown a rope. Believe me, no one was more surprised than I.” He paused, a sardonic look upon his face.

  “Perhaps I should clarify, however. I believe she bedded me. For as it turned out, she was already enceinte and was looking for a suitable father. Apparently, the one who planted his seed was from the wrong side of town.”

  “How horrible,” Charlotte exclaimed. “The woman you set up on a pedestal—”

  “Turned out to be a conniving, manipulative bitch, playing every man off each other. Unfortunately, she concluded that I presented her with the best choice for a husband, as I was doing well, particularly in moot court, and showing every promise of graduating early from law school.”

  Reed had a faraway expression as if recalling it in vivid detail. “When her father learned about her condition, he came looking for me. Even though I’d used every precaution, unlike when you and I were intimate. For some reason, I was able to keep my head about me with her, not with you,” he added, ruefully.

  Charlotte felt the familiar warming flush on her cheeks, thinking of their completely uninhibited passion that wiped the thought of contraception out of both of their minds.

  “He nearly succeeded in railroading me into the marriage, even when it became clear that there were other men in line for ownership of the babe blossoming inside her. Then he tried to buy me, as any wealthy banker would, I suppose. Finally, he threatened my career, and my father stepped in.”

  He paused and Charlotte put her hand out to touch his, though he didn’t seem to notice. “My father was an excellent attorney in his day—not to mention a formidable man. He had a presence that commanded respect and in some cases, downright terror.” Reed gave a wry smile, remembering.

  “Before I knew it, Celia was on a boat to Europe. That was the end of that,” he said firmly, before draining the last of his coffee in a quick gulp.

  “And you soured on women,” Charlotte finished, then thought of how he used Helen to keep marriageable women at bay, “and for a long time on marriage.” And what about love?

  “I wasn’t such a twit to believe that one woman represented all women, but I did start to notice a pattern in my social circles. Something along the lines of women on the hunt, bagging the most eligible man within their reach.” Reed shrugged.

  “I admit that Celia’s betrayal caused a certain mistrust to grow in me, and it wasn’t hard to notice how women often conveniently fall in love with the wealthiest or most influential man in the room. As I became more of both, I found myself being pursued by more women than I could have imagined, some who professed to love me, almost at first sight.”

  Charlotte wanted to defend her own fair sex but couldn’t. He was probably accurate in his assessment of the young women of his acquaintance. She withdrew her hand from his and waited for him to continue.

  “Then I soured, as you put it. I’ll end this by saying that at least with Helen, I knew exactly what I was getting.”

  And what about his recent change of heart? Charlotte wondered. “I assume your marriage proposal means that with me, as with Helen, you know exactly what you’re getting, only you find me more acceptable as a wife than you do her.”

  He looked straight into her eyes, sensing, perhaps, that she was not entirely happy about being a creature who lacked any mystery. “That seems a dispassionate way of looking at it, especially since you’ve been unorthodox from the beginning. To tell you the truth, Charlotte, I’m never sure what will happen when it comes to you.”

  She merely shrugged. It was his turn to take her hand. “For me, there is something incredibly appealing about an independent woman supporting herself, even spurning all company, seemingly so straight-laced but hiding an utterly sensual spirit.”

  She felt her cheeks grow warm, but he continued, “And then, you traveled two thousand miles to fight for children that aren’t even yours.”

  Reed ran his free hand through his thick, dark hair. “Yet, I would have to say that you’re correct. Through it all, I feel that I know where I stand with you. Or at least I did until yesterday. I don’t think you’re one to play games. Thus I’m at a loss, Charlotte.”

  He eyes searched over her face. “I know you to be an excellent companion and I trust I can be the same to you. And our compatibility in certain areas,” he continued, and she was in no doubt as to what he meant, “is obvious. I fail to see why you won’t marry me?”

  How could this man be so dimwitted and so intelligent at the same time? She simply could not ask out loud, Do you love me? She believed he would answer in the affirmative regardless, and she would always wonder if she’d forced it out of him. No, he would have to come to it on his own or not come to it at all.

  “I’ve already told you,” Charlotte said, referring to the myriad of trumped up reasons she’d given him the day before. Gently but firmly, she pushed the jewelry case toward him. Gathering her new book and her reticule as she glanced around at the long blue-gray shadows on the sidewalk, she added, “It’s getting late. Aunt Alicia will be wondering how I could walk for so long.”

  His eyes narrowed and his face looked grim. “Your answer is still no.”

  “Yes,” she said quickly. “That is, no. I mean, you are correct, my answer is still no.”

  He stood up silently, then reached for the velvet case and closed it with a loud snap. Pulling her chair out for her, he offered her his arm and they walked to his clarence. Still, he said nothing more. When the carriage door was closed behind them and they were moving, Charlotte lifted her head and searched out his gaze, but he was looking out the window at the passing landscape.

  “Reed,” she began, but stopped as he turned to her, his piercing blue eyes locking with her own. She wasn’t sure what she saw—annoyance, anger, perhaps sadness.

  “I will not bother you again with my offer of marriage, until you have had sufficient time to ‘experience your new life.’ Tha
t is how you put it yesterday, isn’t it?”

  She had not heard that tone before. It was clear that she had hurt him, or perhaps wounded his pride. In either case, as things stood between them, Charlotte didn’t know how to resolve the situation. If he distanced himself from her, how would he ever fall in love with her?

  She leaned forward. “Reed, I have experienced far more since meeting you, and with you’ than I ever have in my life. I have seen the elephant, as they say.”

  “But?” he prompted, his eyes staying steadily on hers. She swallowed, trying to think of a way to phrase what she truly wanted from him.

  He spoke before her, “But you still think there may be something more out there and you’re not ready to settle for me.”

  Charlotte clutched at the book on her lap. Settle for him? How ridiculous! They both knew he could have any single woman in Boston, and probably many of the married ones, too. Still, she feared that by putting him off—giving him the mitten, as he’d said—she had touched the old wound left by Celia, who had used him horrendously trying to get what she wanted.

  “You have been sheltered and closed off from relationships and society,” he continued, warming to his hypothesis for why she was refusing him. “I’ve had more experience with the world than you and so I’m able to ask you, with complete certainty, to share my life, despite the brevity of our acquaintance. The question is, how long shall I be willing to wait for you to do the same?”

  She couldn’t help but bristle at his veiled ultimatum. Plainly, he was telling her to hurry or risk no marriage at all. He had no right to accuse her of being ignorant or naive. She knew her heart and had already decided that he was all she would ever want. She paused before responding, collecting her emotions—and reminding herself that he was hurt, after all.

  “It is my hope,” she said softly, daring to lay her gloved hand on his arm, “that you can wait until . . . until everything falls into place. I have faith that the time will come sooner rather than later.” She just had to figure out how to make him fall head over heels in love with her and declare it.

  Reed sighed then and his face relaxed. “You are being cryptic, but I suppose not intentionally.” He placed his hand on top of hers. “There’s obviously too much going on in there,” he said half in earnest, tapping the side of her head with his index finger.

  “Too much by far. Why couldn’t I have chosen a simple woman?” His thumb moved down slowly to caress her cheek. The tingling began in her body at his touch. Immediate and, as he’d said before, electric.

  “Because you would be bored,” she said, trying to regain her composure. Charlotte had to speak lightly, or she feared she would beg him to make love to her in the carriage. “Isn’t that why you kept Mrs. Belgrave as your watchdog?”

  The cloud that crossed his features passed over in the space of a candle flame’s flicker, but she knew she’d seen it. There was something else, she was sure, that had caused him to retreat from the ranks of eligible bachelors—something in the way he’d put a quick end to the woeful tale of the beautiful Celia.

  Moreover, his brief expression reminded her too well of the face that used to look back at her from her own oval mirror. It held fear such as she had once known. And while hers was a fear of loneliness after Teddy moved away, what Reed could be afraid of was a mystery to her.

  They drew up in front of her aunt’s home. Charlotte realized that, for the moment, they had come to a truce or a stalemate; she wasn’t sure which. While she waited for Reed to help her down, she heard a loud crack followed by a man’s warning cry.

  Through the open carriage door, she saw Reed’s horror-struck face as he looked down the street toward the noise. She barely had time to acknowledge the quick surge of alarm that raised the hairs on her neck when a bone jarring impact sent her flying..

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Reed caught her in midair as the clarence lurched forward. His team spooked and ran a few yards, striking another carriage and a lamppost before Forbes could get them under control. Charlotte and Reed landed together ungracefully with her on his stomach at the foot of Alicia Randall’s steps.

  “Are you all right?” Charlotte asked, looking down at Reed sprawled on his back, his face barely visible underneath her skirts.

  “I think I should be asking you that,” he said as they began to untangle themselves.

  “I’m fine, I think,” she stammered. Her aunt’s door opened and Gerald came into view followed by Alicia.

  “What happened?” Alicia asked, as Gerald came down the steps to assist Charlotte.

  “It seemed to be a runaway carriage,” Reed said, dusting himself off. He scanned the roadway. “But it’s gone! Forbes,” Reed called, as his driver returned with the shaken team of Bays and the damaged carriage still attached. “What the hell happened?”

  “Don’t rightly know, sir,” the sandy-haired, young man answered. He, too, looked shaken. “I heard what sounded like a gunshot, then a man called out. I turned, then and sees the whisky coming straight for us, horse an’ all. There weren’t no one on the dickey as I could see.”

  “No driver!” exclaimed Alicia, grasping the seriousness of what had just occurred. “You could have been killed,” she said, hugging Charlotte who still felt a bit dazed.

  “Reed,” Charlotte asked as her aunt released her, “How could there be no driver? I heard the noise, too. Was it a gunshot?”

  He looked red-faced with anger. “It was some blamed fool out of control. Thank God, it was only a shay or we wouldn’t be here right now.” He surveyed his clarence. One of the back wheels was cracked with the spokes sticking askew and the rear axle was hanging at an odd angle.

  Charlotte noticed that he hadn’t answered her questions and began to wonder if he suspected foul play. Horses ran away with their carriages all the time, but gun shots in the city were uncommon. One name popped into her head, along with her last unfinished threat. She knew Helen was capable of vicious slander and cruel manipulation, but had never thought bodily injury was in her repertoire. Still, the stakes, as her father would have said, were very high.

  “I think it’s time to retire, don’t you, Charlotte?” Alicia said, looking pale.

  She nodded. This wasn’t the place or the time to discuss her suspicions of Helen with Reed.

  “Thank you for the ride home, Mr. Malloy,” she offered, “and for your quick reflexes.”

  “Are you certain you’re—?” he began.

  “I’m unharmed,” she finished. “At least, nothing that a hot bath won’t fix.”

  Charlotte wanted to smooth his eyebrows out of their severe straight rule, but she could do nothing in front of Alicia, who might already be suspicious about why she was spending so much time with the family attorney.

  “You do make an excellent pillow.” She tried to make him smile, but he didn’t.

  *****

  “How is Charlotte this morning?”

  “Why, I’m fine,” Charlotte answered Jason’s query directed to her aunt, as she floated into the parlor on a wave of determination to breach the barriers of Boston’s Lunatic Hospital in a matter of hours.

  She watched a play of emotions cross Jason’s face when he saw her, the last one seemed to be utmost happiness.

  “I heard that there was some trouble in the street here yesterday and I was concerned.”

  Charlotte took a seat in the parlor as tea was brought in. The warm, familiar scent of it was reassuring. “There was a runaway curricle, but no one was hurt.”

  “I’m surprised word reached you already, Mr. Farnsworth,” Alicia piped in. “Surely, the news of our little mishap hasn’t been in the papers.”

  “No, rest assured, dear lady,” Jason said, taking a seat. “I have other friends on this street and heard the news when taking coffee this morning. But I am relieved to see no harm has come to either one of you.” He turned to Charlotte. “Are you up for some riding today?”

  “I’m afraid my days of leisure have come to a
n end, thank goodness.” She thought that sounded rude the moment it was out of her mouth. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed the time we’ve spent together, but as I mentioned to you before, I’m used to being a working woman. And now that I have a task at hand, I am eager to accomplish it to the best of my abilities.”

  “Does that mean you’re shutting me out of your busy new life altogether?” Jason asked, sipping the tea he had poured himself from the tray. “I don’t think I could stand such banishment.”

  Charlotte laughed. “Don’t be silly, Jason. It simply means that you have to find some other amusement for the time being.”

  “What about supper tonight? It seems as if it has been ages since we’ve eaten together.”

  Alicia coughed politely, and at Charlotte’s glance, she nodded her approval. Charlotte pursed her lips. Jason and her aunt were waiting for her to acquiesce, but Charlotte had absolutely no desire to give Jason the wrong idea about their relationship in case he was beginning to care for her.

  More importantly, she didn’t want to cause Reed a moment of jealousy—not after learning about Celia’s dishonorable actions. It was certainly not the way to win his heart.

  “We dined together recently, as I recall. Besides,” Charlotte added as Jason started to brood, “I have other people to see, people who’ve left calling cards since the night of the party.” In truth, she didn’t intend to go out with anyone except Reed.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get ready for an appointment.”

  “May I give you a ride?” Jason asked, standing up with her.

  “I’ve got my aunt’s barouche,” Charlotte told him and continued to resist even when he pushed the matter.

  “I’m going into town anyway,” he insisted. She was beginning to get annoyed when he flashed a winsome smiled and shook his head.

  “I meant no offense. I just wanted to spend a few minutes more in your company. However, I can see I’ve overstayed my welcome and not wanting to wear it out completely, I’ll be off. I’ll call on you again in a few days; the supper invitation still stands of course.” And he was gone.