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

by Baily, Sydney Jane

  “What she needed,” Reed returned, his voice sounding hard through his weariness, “was companionship; even brotherly company would have been better than your checking up on her from afar.”

  Thaddeus frowned, dropping his arms and addressing Reed squarely. “There are plenty of people in Spring. I figured she’d stop writing long enough to be social once in a while with some of them. In any case, I didn’t think she’d catch a man with her baby brother hanging around.”

  The two men looked as if they were going to come to blows, just when Charlotte thought the day couldn’t get any stranger.

  “I am growing exceedingly tired of you two talking as if I don’t exist, so stop it.” She looked at each one in turn. “Reed, my life was not as pathetic as you make out. Before you and the children came along, I was used to being alone.”

  Then turning to Thaddeus, “I never expected you to look after me, Teddy, but perhaps more than a yearly visit would have been appreciated. But now I have a new life here in Boston,” and a man, she added silently, “so what are you going to say to that?”

  To her surprise, he smiled. “Amen, Charlie. You deserve it, as long as you don’t mind my sticking around Boston for a while.” He relaxed and hugged her again. Then he smiled at Reed. “Besides, I bet Mr. Malloy can introduce me to a grist of gorgeous women.”

  “Thaddeus!” Charlotte said appalled, both at the image of her baby brother with a young lady, and at his assumption that Reed knew so many females.

  Reed looked innocently at both of them for a moment. Then, he said, “Perhaps I do know some.”

  “Reed!” she exclaimed in the same tone she’d used with her brother.

  Both men laughed a moment, but then Reed sobered. “I’m afraid, Thaddeus, that you’ll be disappointed, though, for none are nearly as beautiful as the woman I met in Spring City.”

  Seeing the expressions on both his sister’s face and Reed’s as they looked at each other, Thaddeus discreetly retired from the room.

  “Nothing untoward,” he murmured, as he left, determined to make friends with sweet Bridget and obtain a little late-night sustenance before bed.

  As soon as the door closed behind Thaddeus, Reed enveloped Charlotte in his arms and kissed her on her startled lips.

  “Ow,” she said.

  “Sorry,” he murmured, tracing her slightly swollen and injured lip with his thumb. Then he pressed his mouth to the top of her head, her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, and her chin.

  “I have never been so terrified as I was today when I discovered you missing from what I thought was a safe haven. I swear, I thought I would go insane.”

  “My aunt’s house is safe, Reed. I was an idiot for venturing out of it. What happened with Jason was mostly my fault.”

  He looked grave at the mention of Farnsworth. She could see he was troubled by something as he took her hand in his. His voice was extremely gentle as he began, “I didn’t want to discuss this in front of your aunt and the others, but I want to ask if you’re all right. When I found you at the warehouse—”

  Charlotte knew what he was asking. She shook her head before Reed could continue. “Jason Farnsworth did no more than tear my clothes and frighten me half to death.”

  She saw no need to elaborate more on his assault and no point in placing in Reed’s head the vile image of Jason touching her. After all, the man was dead and the memory would dim with time. She was not one to dwell on the past, and certainly wouldn’t cower because of one horrific incident.

  Reed looked hard into her eyes for a long moment, but apparently accepted her response. She smiled, reaching up to touch the strong plane of his cheek with her fingertips.

  “I knew you would be clever enough to find me, I just had to gain us some time. It nearly got out of hand except I—”

  “You what?” He had pulled her close against him again; and his tone was becoming less serious, as he stroked her soft chestnut hair.

  “I used psychology on him.”

  Reed looked down at her in surprise. “You are an amazing woman, Charlotte Sanborn. Most women would have been content to stay locked in the room where your brother was. But you,” he held her chin and tilted her head back, “you chose to face the danger head on. And what is your weapon?” He grinned at her. “Psychology! On a mad man, no less.”

  “Well, it worked and we’re all safe.” She breathed a happy sigh, to be once more in Reed’s embrace and to have her brother safe and sound in Alicia’s house. Teddy had briefly met Lily and Thomas, who displayed the same degree of shyness as upon first meeting her, but she knew they would warm to him. Yes, everything was right with the world at present.

  But Reed frowned. “I’ll never feel reassured where you’re concerned until you are my wife, carry my name, and reside under my roof.”

  There it was, the marriage proposal again, thrown down like a gauntlet. She felt her smile die. He ran a hand through his hair, causing some of it to stand on end.

  “The way should be clear for us now, but I know it’s not. I can see by your face that your answer is the same.”

  Charlotte didn’t know what to say. He smiled ruefully. “I ought to be nothing but miserable about that, but all I can feel right now is thankfulness. I don’t think I could have stood it if I’d been too late. If I’d failed you . . .,” he trailed off and Charlotte knew instinctively that here was another key to his closed heart, another reason for his fear.

  “It wouldn’t have been your fault.” Her voice was almost a whisper, as she envisioned how the end would have come if Reed had been too late. “It would have been my own and Jason’s fault, of course.”

  “Sometimes things aren’t that simple, Charlotte. The conscience has a way of holding one responsible for lack of action as much as for action itself.”

  “You’re not talking about what happened today, are you?”

  He smiled wearily. “No, lady writer, something long ago.” He touched her cheek, his thumb barely grazing the small cut at her mouth. “Are you as tired as I am?”

  “Yes, I guess I am,” She knew he’d closed the subject on purpose, but she had to ask, “Reed, will you tell me soon about whatever happened long ago?”

  She saw the doubt and the pain in his eyes—the same flickering shadow over his life that she’d seen before. He only nodded and with a last kiss, he was gone.

  Chapter Thirty

  The story Charlotte turned in to Charles Greene a few days later was not the one she’d originally intended to write, but it caught the attention of the city at once. Her article made the front page, her name was bandied about as if she were the most popular writer since Jules Verne.

  Calling cards and invitations arrived from all walks of society, and a deeply felt apology from the Farnsworth family, who had massive black mourning wreaths adorning their residence. Most importantly, another writing assignment and then another poured her way. Her writing career was assured.

  Her relationship with Reed was not.

  “I’m in the middle of . . . no, I’m actually causing hustle and bustle,” she explained to Thaddeus over dinner one day, three weeks after their rescue.

  “The Lunatic Hospital is being investigated by the state, George Mason is in the Charlestown State Prison, and I’m busier than I thought possible. I seem to have more company and more new acquaintances than I would have made in a lifetime in Spring City, yet—”

  “You’re lonely as hell,” he finished for her.

  She grimaced. “No, not exactly. I know the way real loneliness feels. Besides I have you.” What worried her was that Reed had neither brought up the subject of marriage again, nor done much to pursue her beyond an occasional clandestine kiss in his carriage.

  The only real gain that Charlotte could see since the night of Jason’s death was that Reed and Teddy had become friends. But as for her and Reed, she’d begun to despair of resolving their impasse.

  “Welcome to the world of relationships, Charlie.” Thaddeus took a sip of his a
le. “But I don’t see what’s wrong. From what I can tell, you have Alicia’s unspoken blessing for you and Reed. And he seems to be playing the dutiful chaperone whenever your exalted presence is requested at a party or a ball or a cotillion or a dinner or—”

  “Teddy,” she poked him in the stomach to stop his teasing. “But that’s just it. Reed seems as if he is ‘playing’ or, more precisely, acting. He picks me up in his clarence and escorts me out anywhere I want to go, and we dance every dance, and he’s sociable to everyone.”

  She sighed. “It doesn’t even bother me anymore when we run into Helen. Reed has this way of dismissing those collisions with a wave of his hand. But you would have to know how it was between us before.”

  Thaddeus took a bite of the roast beef in front of him. He chewed slowly. Charlotte could see he was still savoring his return to the real world, eating delicious food and—he burped loudly—drinking local beer. But he fixed her with his thoughtful green gaze. “More passionate, perhaps?”

  She nodded miserably, unable to believe she was having this conversation with her brother. “It’s as if he’s being so careful around me because he’s scared I’ll break.”

  “What happened must have shaken Reed to his core,” Thaddeus observed. “I know it did me. He loves you so much that he just doesn’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Charlotte nearly choked on the wine she was sipping. “Loves me!”

  “Well, of course.” Then he looked at her with something akin to horror. “God, Charlie, don’t you love him? Because I can tell you, I wouldn’t want to be standing too close to you if you tell him otherwise. I mean, look at how he handled Farnsworth. If you’re trifling with the man’s affections . . .”

  He shrugged as if it were too awful to contemplate.

  “Of course I love him,” she muttered resentfully. And she wanted to believe that Reed felt for her something akin to love, deep down, though perhaps he didn’t know it or recognize the feeling. Or perhaps he just couldn’t express what was in his heart. Or maybe Thaddeus was just plain wrong.

  The lingering doubts weighed heavily on her mind. She sighed. At this point, she would settle for the sparks that used to fly, the way he used to reach for her at any given moment and then kiss her soundly. She had long given up watching for him at her balcony door.

  Charlotte set down her glass, deciding her only option was to tease Reed into some sign of the passion that she hoped still simmered below his calm exterior.

  “What’s that gleam in your eye, sis?”

  She only smiled.

  *****

  At every opportunity over the next week, she brushed up against Reed, sat close during their carriage rides, and did her best to be both charming and enticing. She thought she could see a reaction in him, in the way he looked at her, the way his pupils dilated when she leaned close, the way he sometimes stepped away from her as if scorched.

  However, the very next time he entered Alicia’s house, he picked up Lily and checked on her bruised knee, admired Thomas’s big boy haircut, and even talked man-to-man with Thaddeus about boxing. But he did not sweep Charlotte off to his bed or come secretly to hers.

  Charlotte thought she’d go out of her mind. It was worse than she feared. Not only did he not love her, but he didn’t seem to want her anymore, either.

  All she’d done was cause her own level of frustration to peak until she thought she’d scream. And Teddy watched it all with a smug and knowing look of amusement. She wanted to wring his neck, not to mention Reed’s.

  One afternoon, sitting in her aunt’s garden, Charlotte made every effort to read over her most recent article in the newspaper. It was giving her little joy. The words were all running together. She put the paper down beside her and closed her eyes.

  Her mind was on Reed, on the first time they’d made love after Drake’s barn dance It had been magic, the way he’d touched her fevered skin, caressed her breasts, whispered her name—

  “Charlotte.”

  “Mmm,” she responded, her eyes still closed. She could almost hear him.

  She felt warm lips brush her own. Her lids flew open.

  “Reed.” It was just the same as when she used to sit in her study, thinking of him, and he’d appear in the evenings. He sat down beside her.

  “You look so peaceful out here among the flowers, I hate to disturb you, but you also look ravishing.”

  She breathed a sigh.

  “I feel like being ravished,” she told him, not caring if he thought her shamelessly bold. He grinned the most sensual smile she’d ever seen, lowered his head and kissed her again, deeply, thoroughly, until her nipples had ripened to hard buds, her toes were curling, and all her parts in between were turning to liquid.

  At last, he raised his head and groaned. “That’s why I need to talk to you. If we don’t come to some understanding—”

  “Understanding?” she repeated, thinking of his prior understanding with Helen.

  “Arrangement, treaty, agreement—whatever you want to call it, Charlotte—then I’m going to have to break my promise.”

  “I don’t understand.” She tried to think clearly, but remembered no promise, unless . . . “You mean you won’t wait for me anymore?” She had not said yes soon enough to his proposal, and now what? Was he kissing her goodbye?

  “I can’t wait,” Reed said, confirming her worst fear. He took her hand. “The vow I made that you’d be my fiancée before we made love again was sworn with the best of intentions, but it’s as if you’re asking a thirsty man to look at a glass of crystal clear water and not touch a drop to his lips. I need you, not only in my life, but in my bed.”

  She was so relieved, she felt light-headed. It wasn’t that he couldn’t wait any longer for her response; it was that he couldn’t wait for her body.

  “These past weeks, I have been trying to be the restrained and respectful suitor you deserve, but, damn it, Charlotte, I don’t want to be only a suitor. I want all the privileges and blessings that come with being your husband. I hold you in the highest esteem, but every time you’re near me, I want strip off every last article of your clothing, very quickly, and then proceed to make love to you.”

  She blushed profusely, unable to quell the image he’d conjured.

  Reed, however, looked grim. “I thought if I just waited—without Farnsworth muddying the waters and with your career flourishing—that you would finally agree to be my wife, but that hasn’t happened.”

  “No,” she shook her head miserably. And all her excuses for more time, for the chance to get her career under way were fast running out. He wanted to be her husband and he held her in the highest esteem. But she didn’t want simply his esteem, however high. She wanted his love. She wanted . . .

  Charlotte looked at Reed’s somber face and knew that what she wanted most was to remove the shadow from his heart, whatever had caused it.

  “Reed, tell me about long ago.”

  “What?”

  “After you rescued me from the warehouse, you spoke of conscience and holding yourself responsible. Please tell me what you meant. Is it to do with Celia?”

  She watched his chest expand as he took a deep breath.

  “I’ve never told anyone this,” he said, his voice sounding rough. “It’s not Celia exactly, but the baby she carried.”

  “The baby that she pretended was yours. Whose was it?”

  “I don’t know. I can only assume that she knew who the father was.” He stood up and walked a few steps from her. “If I had gone along with Celia’s plan,” he told her, his back still to her, “the child would be older than Lily.”

  “What happened to the baby?” Charlotte asked, but she didn’t think she wanted to hear the answer—or rather, she already knew.

  At his feet was a small weed, sprouting alone in the midst of Alicia’s lush green grass; somehow, it had not yet been noticed by her aunt. Reed bent down and pulled it out with a quick twist of his fingers.

  “She
never had it. She made sure I knew that, too,” he said, as he stood up, his thoughts far away, “If I’d known her intentions, I think I would have married her for the child’s sake.” He let the weed drop from his hand.

  Charlotte stood up and closed the space between them in seconds. From behind, she put her slender arms around him and pressed her cheek to his back. She was stunned by the sheer cruelty of the woman Reed had once thought he loved.

  There had been no need for Celia to tell him she’d ended her pregnancy, except to make him suffer for having ruined her selfish plans. And Reed, with his love of children, blamed himself for all these years.

  “This has nothing to do with us, Charlotte,” he said, clasping her arms under his strong hands. Then he turned in her embrace and faced her.

  Nothing to do with us. That’s what he’d said before when he’d first told her about Celia. Now, she knew differently. His guilt over the unborn child and over the possible consequences of loving someone, especially the wrong person, created the fear she had detected.

  It was so clear to her now why it had been important to Reed that she love Lily and Thomas. And then a thought struck her.

  “Reed, why didn’t you use any contraception the last time we . . . ?” she trailed off.

  He rested his chin against the top of her head so she couldn’t see him. “I knew it would be all right, either way. I intend to keep you in my life, whatever happens.”

  Charlotte sighed. It was a good sign—Reed knew if she became pregnant, she would cherish the baby with all her heart. Obviously, he trusted her.

  Her expression was wistful, as she thought of all the Celias and Helens in the world who might have won his heart. They had only to look past the powerful lawyer and see him for the warm, caring man he was.

  Yet, she refused to believe any woman, no matter how cruel, had ruined him altogether for love, or that he could close off his heart more securely than she had done. She, who had been ready to live alone for the rest of her life rather than risk losing anyone else. And life had turned out to be wonderful since she opened her heart to loving the children and him. Could Reed Malloy be as afraid as she had been?