The assumptions she'd been making about Reed's return trip to Spring City had to be wrong, for he definitely didn't act like a man who'd traveled across the Plains to be with her. He had looked as though he wanted to wring her neck.
"You look a little tired, Charlotte. It's a lot to take in for one evening. Are you ready to go home?"
"Yes." The whole event had lost its rosy glow. "I'll just go see if it's acceptable to my aunt."
"Of course, dear, you may go," Alicia confirmed a few moments later. "But I must accompany you. It's far too late for you to be alone with Mr. Farnsworth."
"Quite right," he agreed, looking grave.
Alicia frowned. "Though I had hoped to speak to Mrs. Peabody about the Blue Blood Society. I was going to invite Mrs. Belgrave to join, but she left. Did you see, Mr. Malloy, Charlotte?"
"Yes," she said, flushing despite herself.
"They went off without a by-your-leave," she huffed. "Breach of etiquette, in my book," Alicia added, with a cluck of her tongue. "But he has been away, I understand, and they looked as if they wanted time to catch up."
She looked pointedly at Charlotte, as if to remind her of how improper it had been to let the family lawyer sleep under her roof.
"We may have a fall wedding to attend," Jason offered, causing Charlotte's already wan face to pale further.
"My, but you do look exhausted, my dear." Alicia turned to Jason. "I believe you've been running my niece off her feet. Perhaps I will allow you to take her home immediately, and I'll say my goodbyes properly. Mind that you take the short route, no dallying," she added, as Jason kissed Alicia Randall's hand once more.
Alicia kissed Charlotte on the cheek. "I'll be along directly, dear."
"The short route, it is," Jason agreed as they left. And true to his word, she was on her aunt's doorstep only minutes later.
Charlotte assumed Gerald had already retired when she had to use her key to open the front door. She knew that Bridget had put the children to bed hours earlier and was probably in the kitchen waiting for her mistress to come home.
Still, she had a moment's anxiety, looking past the glow from the gaslight chandelier down the darkened hall and feeling Jason close behind her. Then she quelled her fears, with a silent admonishment that he was a member of high society after all. She turned to face him.
Jason leaned against the door jam, looking handsome and even a little rakish. His eyelids drooped lazily as he watched her. "I had a grand evening. I hope you did, too."
"Oh, I did," Charlotte said, not being completely truthful. After all, it wasn't Jason's fault that misery had closed in around her after Reed departed the Tremont. "Thank you for all your effort in introducing me to your friends and acquaintances. I felt extremely welcome."
"Then why the sudden long face?" he asked, his voice having dropped a notch as he reached up to stroke her cheek. She didn't pull away as her instincts told her to do. That would be too rude. And as far as she knew, he was harmless, if a tad forward.
"I guess, occasionally, I feel a little homesick," she lied. No one in Boston could know of her fervent feelings for Reed; the chance that she could lose the children was too great.
Jason smiled. "I thought it might be some such thing. Please, let me know if there is anything I can do to make you feel more at home here."
He leaned forward suggestively, and she realized with dismay that he was going to kiss her. She stepped back involuntarily. All of a sudden, Gerald was there at her side, unsmiling but not unknowing. She took a deep breath, glad for the butler's presence.
"I am grateful for that. Goodnight, Jason."
She let Gerald begin to close the door, forcing Jason to step off the threshold. She headed up the stairs, assuring herself that the last image she'd seen of him with a hostile, even malevolent look on his face had been nothing more than the play of nighttime shadows.
Chapter 18
Barely able to sleep after the excitement and the disappointment of the party, Charlotte eventually dreamed of Reed, as she had done so many times over the past month. Thus, it was with a fanciful feeling that she awoke, momentarily confused by her surroundings but certain she'd heard his deep, rich voice.
Realizing where she was and how real the possibility that she'd actually heard him, she jumped out of bed, pausing at the sight of her ball gown draped over the Hepplewhite chair. The memory of Reed leaving with Helen returned unbidden. Had he even noticed her dress?
Charlotte washed her face and brushed out her hair, which kept a gentle wave from the style of the previous night. Her aunt would have a fit, however, if she appeared with it flowing loose, so she pulled it back and secured it in a bun with as many pins as she could find on her bureau. Next, she dressed in her new soft peach satin gown with indigo ribbons that reminded her of Reed's gorgeous eyes.
Descending the stairs, she headed toward the sound of laughter—warm male laughter—and children's giggles coming from the drawing room.
She felt a little breathless as she entered through the open door and stopped, seeing Reed with Thomas up on his right hip and Lily stretching up for a hug. Her heart skipped a beat. Thomas was talking about a grasshopper, and Charlotte knew he was relating their trip to Faneuil Hall with its whimsical green grasshopper weathervane.
Hearing footsteps, Reed turned and saw her, standing in the doorway. She saw an expression cross over his striking face that was close to what she felt in her heart, though the smile he gave her was guarded. Nonetheless, she let it fill her with happiness.
Charlotte had imagined their first meeting many times, but she had pictured them alone, without spectators. It had involved his arms around her, a kiss, and words of love, and certainly not the fresh memory of him with Helen Belgrave. Still, he was here, only feet away.
Reed placed a quick kiss on Thomas's forehead and set him down before taking a step toward her, then he stopped.
"You're looking well, Charlotte." His tone, as his smile, seemed restrained.
Before she could answer, Lily ran forward. "How was the ball, Aunt Charlotte? Grandma wouldn't let us wake you up this morning. She said you were out late."
Irrationally, Charlotte felt guilty and stole a glance at Reed, whose own face was abruptly an emotionless mask.
"Not that late," she said, then stopped herself. She had done nothing wrong! He was the one who had walked out of the Tremont arm-in-arm with the woman who was no longer supposed to have a place in his life.
"About as late as Mr. Malloy," she added.
"You were there, too?" Lily asked, turning to Reed.
"And your princess?" asked Thomas.
Reed frowned slightly. "My princess?"
"He's referring to Mrs. Belgrave," Charlotte explained sweetly, watching Reed carefully. "Yes, Thomas, Uncle Reed's princess was there, too. In fact, we had a rather interesting conversation."
"I didn't know the two of you had spoken," Reed said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"More than once," Charlotte said, frustrated that they were spending the first few minutes of their reunion discussing Helen.
It seemed to be putting Reed in an equally dispirited mood, judging by the way his eyebrows had knitted together.
Absently, she put her hands up to pull on the knot of her hair, only to realize the secure bun was not in danger of coming down. She made a pretense of smoothing it instead, feeling out of place and awkward.
Her misery must have shown on her face, for Reed cleared his features of any grim traces and flashed her a much more familiar smile. Again, he moved toward her.
Charlotte stepped back in alarm for his eyes bespoke an intention there could be no mistaking. He intended to embrace her. She reached out and grabbed his hands in her own before he could sweep his arms around her. Lord, was the man insane?
"Reed," she protested, as he stopped short.
"Charlotte, I—"
"Huh, um."
Behind her, Charlotte heard the unmistakable sound of Alicia Randall clea
ring her throat. She felt Reed stiffen, and she swore one of her brother's curses under her breath. He released her hands so slowly it seemed as if she'd never be free to turn around and face her aunt, but it was probably better than springing apart with guilt.
In Reed's presence barely five minutes, and she was already compromised!
Moving another step away from him, she turned to face the sobering view of her aunt, wearing a gardening apron over her silk day dress, clutching a basket of roses in her right hand and clippers in her left.
Alicia looked anything but idyllic, however. She looked downright sour.
"Mr. Malloy," Alicia Randall greeted, without even nodding her head. "Gerald said you were here. And what a display you are making with my niece in front of the children. Thomas, Lily, upstairs. It's time for your music lessons, and Miss Hunnewell is waiting."
Charlotte watched the children go with mournful faces, Lily dragging Thomas along by the hand. It turned out they loved Miss Hunnewell, but they seemed to adore being with Reed even more.
"My apologies," Reed said immediately after they'd gone. His voice was smooth as cream sherry. "Miss Sanborn and I didn't get a chance to exchange a greeting at the ball last night, and after all we went through in Colorado, I consider her a solid acquaintance."
Charlotte's eyes opened widely. What on earth was he saying? Her aunt was liable to toss her out on the street at any moment over such a remark. In fact, her aunt was staring from Charlotte to Reed, and back again.
"All you went through?" Alicia repeated, her voice rising.
"You did tell her about the mine shaft, and the wolf, didn't you?" Reed asked.
Charlotte gasped. "I... that is, I..."
"No, she did not," Alicia cut in. "She most definitely did not mention a wolf."
"I didn't think it was important," Charlotte began. "I mean, you're not liable to meet any here in the city."
In truth, Charlotte hadn't wanted to give Alicia any reason to think that Spring City was an unsuitable place to raise the children, in case she should she end up returning there. She had cautioned the children on how upsetting it would be to their grandmother if she found out about the terrifying incidents, and they'd been good as gold not to mention that horrible day.
Now all at once, Reed was making her home sound as though it was little more than a deathtrap. He seemed utterly undaunted by Alicia's disapproving gaze.
"Miss Sanborn was a hero, Mrs. Randall, displaying some truly outstanding qualities. Evidently, she takes after you."
Charlotte could only stare at him. He was laying it on a bit thickly, she thought. But Alicia smiled.
"Why, thank you, Mr. Malloy." The older woman's tone had softened measurably, and Charlotte could tell he had succeeded in distracting her aunt from the compromising position in which she had discovered them.
Setting her roses and clipping shears down on the table beside her, Alicia asked, "Did you come here to tell me about the wolf?"
He laughed. "I'll let Miss Sanborn do that later. I came to offer my assistance in selling her homestead."
That was the last thing Charlotte had expected him to say. She hadn't even given a thought to that transaction or if it even should occur. And she couldn't help the wave of disappointment she felt, having assumed he had come over simply to see her.
"That is most appreciated," Alicia responded. "Is it not, Charlotte?"
She barely nodded. "Of course, I will enlist the services of Malloy and Associates when the time comes," she said. "But for now—"
"For now," Alicia interrupted, "you two will have to get along without me. I'm afraid I must get ready for my meeting. I'm responsible for the decorations," she added, pointing to the roses. "I'll send Gerald in." Reed bowed, and Alicia glided out with a backward wave of her hand.
"Her meeting of women suffragists or free love with Victoria Woodhull?" Reed asked, his face deadpan.
Charlotte stifled a laugh, envisioning her aunt rallying for the right to vote, never mind the right to dally with a man outside of wedlock.
"Hardly," she made a face. "Christian Science with Mary Baker Eddy." But the reference to suffragists reminded her of Helen's mention of her sister. Before she could ask Reed about his mysterious trip out west, a voice in her ear caused her to jump.
"Tea in the garden, Miss Charlotte." Gerald had entered the room on silent butler feet.
"Thank you, Gerald," Charlotte replied, trying to appear as if she were used to being waited on. She turned to him, but the extremely efficient Gerald was already disappearing through the doorway, and she found herself speaking to empty space.
The amused look on Reed's face proved she was failing at pretending to be a practiced lady of leisure.
"Can you stay?" she asked him, her heart pounding.
For an answer, he gestured her to lead the way to the garden.
Outside on the brick patio, amidst the small lawn and the flower beds, Lacey had set the table for tea and was already pouring. Wordlessly, Charlotte sat down, unsure where to start. They waited for Lacey to go inside. They were finally alone.
"It's hard to believe you're really here in Boston," Reed said as soon as she was gone.
"I could say the same thing of you. It never occurred to me that you might be away when I arrived." She waited, hoping he would enlighten her.
"What did John tell you of my trip?" he asked, not looking her directly in the eye but fiddling with his tea cup.
"Nothing, only... nothing," she finished, realizing John had told her only that Reed would have to be the one to explain. However, he didn't enlighten her.
"It's not important now," he added, putting further distance between them. If he had returned to Spring City to invite her to come eastward once more, then why didn't he simply tell her?
She bent her head to hide her confusion and breathed in the rich aroma of the roses that her aunt cultivated. They reminded her of the roses Reed had planted for her.
"Did you really come here to help me sell my home?"
He gave her a wry smile and shook his head, dislodging a lock of hair that she very much wanted to touch. But touching him was what got her in trouble in the first place.
"You've read the telegram I sent?" she asked. "You know what my aunt is threatening and why?"
Charlotte wondered if he knew instinctively, as she had, that Helen was the source of the rumors.
He only nodded. "I warned you that this could happen. It looks, however, as if you're winning your aunt over."
Charlotte only shrugged. "She is a decent woman who loves her grandchildren." She looked into his handsome face that she'd missed so desperately and hoped he would put things right. "Reed, you do know that Helen has spoken to my aunt?"
"I am aware that they know each other."
"She hinted to Alicia that I had acted questionably at the dance."
He nodded. "I believe she said more than that. She told her that I'd stayed in your house."
Charlotte bit her lip a moment. "No, actually, I did that."
His mouth fell open, and he shook his head, apparently flummoxed. Before he could speak, she sought to explain herself.
"It was only a matter of time before Helen said it, so I said it for her."
Reed sighed, and Charlotte thought he might be disappointed in her.
"Helen didn't know anything for certain," he said. "She didn't know what occurred before she arrived or even if I slept in a room at Fuller's the night of the dance. You may have given her a dangerous weapon, Charlotte."
"I didn't exactly give it to her," she said. But the lady in question was undoubtedly going to use it. "Reed, Helen has as good as told me that if I don't leave Boston, she'll try to destroy my reputation any way she can."
He looked unconcerned. "She has tried with your aunt. I fail to see what else she can do."
Charlotte sighed. So he was going to sweep Helen's participation under the rug. For old time's sake or for the present's sake? His next words were on a completely
different tack entirely.
"I wish I had been here when you arrived, but it seems that you have amused yourself and been kept entertained."
She shook off her thoughts of his paramour for the moment and, instead, remembered her shopping trip and taking the children on their daily expeditions. She nodded, not realizing that her eyes were sparkling with the pleasure of her exciting new life. "Indeed, I have been having a wonderful time."
"Farnsworth knows his way around the city," Reed commented, looking somewhat stern. "I'm sure he's been an adequate guide."
She thought of Jason and how many times over the past few days that she'd wished her companion had been Reed. "He has been very kind."
It sounded to her as if Reed snorted. It was such an odd sound and so unlike anything she'd heard from him that she stared up into his blue eyes. "Is something wrong?"
"No." The word was clipped.
"Jason knows Thaddeus," she added.
"Your brother? Is he here?"
"No. No one knows where he is."
"I see." Reed stirred his tea once more.
She lapsed into miserable silence. Where was the fluid conversation that she'd so delighted in over a brandy in her study? Why was she unexpectedly feeling so awkward, and why was Reed looking as though his collar was a few sizes too small? She tried another topic altogether.
"I met Charles Greene at the party last night."
"The Post's editor—yes, I know. I saw you talking to him."
So he had been watching her, even when she thought he was deeply engrossed in conversation with Helen.
"I'm hoping to get an assignment. It would give me great confidence to know I can support myself here. Then if I decide to stay, I will begin inquiries regarding housing in the city. I think it best to get out from under my aunt's roof. Jason says he knows of some fairly reasonably priced residences a few streets over, on the other side of the Common."
She wasn't mistaken this time as a blunt look of scorn crossed Reed's face. It occurred to her that he didn't care for Jason Farnsworth, III. Not one bit. Almost as little as she cared for Helen.
The Defiant Hearts Series Box Set Page 28
