The Debutante's Scandal: Western Historical Romance (Debutantes of Durango Book 4)

by Sylvia McDaniel

  Could she do that anywhere? Did she want to sew for other ladies or the industry?

  Wouldn't she be sewing and creating magnificent dresses for clients if she worked in New York fashion? But she would be working in the city in the heart of the industry.

  What about this man made her question the dreams she'd held since childhood?

  Martin turned and smiled at her. "That's enough hay to last them several days. Come on, there's a place I want to show you."

  He placed his hands around her waist and helped her into the saddle. The touch of his hands even through her clothes had her breath catching in her throat. The man was her husband and his caress, his kisses, the feel of his body wrapped around hers at night seemed to have awaken the woman in her.

  Her husband made her crave things she knew she shouldn't. Yet, she did.

  "Come on," he said, climbing into the saddle. "We'll eat lunch at the next stop.”

  Thirty minutes later, they pulled their horses to a halt in front of a dilapidated building. The roof looked sturdy, but the wood on the outside needed paint and the chinking between the logs should be replaced.

  What about this place fascinated her husband? Why had he brought her here?

  "As a boy, I loved to come here and spend the day. Once I even stayed overnight, but I got a thrashing for that one. My mother did not like to worry about her only child and I caused her a lot of grief that night."

  "Why would you want to stay out here alone?" she asked as she stepped down from her saddle onto the ground.

  "The excitement. The thrill, the fear," he said. "Kind of like marriage."

  Reaching out, she slapped his arm with her hand playfully. "We haven't experienced a real union."

  "Though we could," he said.

  Uncertain if he was serious or if he was teasing, she shook her head. Not certain which one she wanted him to be. "Show me the inside."

  "Let's have lunch," he said, grabbing their package his grandmother had made.

  Since she didn't know the last time the cabin had been visited, she let him go first to scare any critters that might be taking shelter. When he pushed back the door, cobwebs and dust greeted them. "Wow, no one has been here in ages."

  Inside, the building smelled stale and she didn't understand the fascination with the place. A small fireplace, a bed, a couple of chairs and a table were all that graced the shack. A few dishes stacked in a cabinet, but not much. Somehow this place meant something to him.

  "This was grandfather and grandmother's first home," he said. "This is where they began the ranch."

  Suddenly she understood his obsession with this shack.

  "Oh," she said, looking around with more interest.

  "My mother was conceived here. Here they drew up the plans for the new house."

  "A lot of history is in this cabin," she said, wanting to understand everything about this place and its effect on him. Alice told her they moved to the big house not long after Ellie was born. Here in this log cabin, Alice and Ira were newlyweds struggling to survive and build an empire.

  "Yes," he said, gazing about.

  An old blanket lay on the bed and he used the cloth to wipe the dust off the table and chairs. Then he pulled out a chair. "My lady."

  "Thank you," she said, accepting his offer as he pushed it in. "You do this for all the girls."

  A frown furrowed his brow. "Your sister was right. The newspapers do make up stories to sell papers, but some of them were true. Acting scandalous was a way to get even with my father."

  A laugh came from deep inside him as he spread their lunch on the table. "Date the most outrageous women in town. There was never any intention of malice toward these ladies. All the girls understood I was only interested in having a good time. Between my stepmother, father, and mothers throwing debutantes at me, I did everything I could to make myself less attractive."

  Shame filled her as she thought of her own mother and the women in Durango.

  "Are you talking about women like my mother and the ladies of the Durango’s Ladies Club who all wanted their daughters to marry you? Only you were unfortunate to save me from getting hurt falling off a trellis."

  Looking back on that night, she realized she had made a terrible decision and was lucky Martin caught her. Otherwise, she might have been seriously injured.

  At first, it seemed like her world was ending, but now, she only felt confusion. What did she want? Martin or to be a fashion designer?

  "Yes," he said. "With my mother's death, the rational part of my father died. Now he's married to the stepladder and all he cares about is making his cronies happy. Not his family."

  In some ways, their parents were so much alike.

  "Sorry, but all my mother thinks about is how to marry her daughters into money. The very reason I crawled out that window was to escape having to flirt with a man who knew my mother wanted me to act outrageous with him."

  With a laugh, he reached out and took her hand giving it a squeeze. "I'm glad you weren't hurt that day."

  "Me too," she said. "And I'm sorry for ensnaring you. That was never my intention."

  "Yes, I know," he said. "But marriage to you hasn't been bad."

  The words made her heart pound in her chest. What was he saying? What were they doing?

  "Agreed, our marriage has not been unpleasant, though I still have a hard time saying Meg Scott.”

  "Say it again. I like hearing you say it," he said, his voice growing deeper. "There is a nice sound to your new name."

  "Meg Scott,” she said, feeling breathless, sensing this moment had meaning and not understanding why.

  "You've told me a little about your family history and your father and your reputation as a flirt, but what about your mother? How did she die so young?"

  His eyes closed and he squeezed her hand. "Mother died from a miscarriage. Father was off pursuing his business and only came home every several months. The last time he came home, she got pregnant. About three months into the pregnancy, she began to bleed."

  Tears welled up in his eyes and she could see the memory caused him great pain.

  "Grandpa rode into town to fetch the doctor, but by the time he returned, she’d bled to death. At the time, I was only eight and losing my mother crushed me."

  "Oh my, I'm so sorry," Meg said, reaching out and stroking his face with her hand. "Your mother, she died so young, when you were just a child."

  "Yes," he said, taking her hands and pulling her closer to him.

  "It's been hard to return to Elk Ridge, but this time... This time, you, Meg Scott made being here better."

  Warmth radiated through her and she smiled. "Your grandparents’ ranch is like my family’s, only with less drama and a lot more happiness."

  A smile crossed his face.

  Martin sank into the chair next to her, she felt the mood shift and he leaned into her and kissed her, his lips moving over hers, his hands reaching up and gripping her cheeks to draw her close to him. While his mouth roamed over hers, his tongue pressed inside her lips, creating a firestorm as she moaned deep in her throat.

  Martin shifted his body toward her, his weight pressing against her. Abruptly, she heard the cracking of wood and her wooden chair broke sending them both plummeting to the ground with Martin landing on top of her.

  Their lips came apart and they began to laugh hysterically.

  "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?" Martin asked lying on top of her, his chest pressing into her breasts.

  "No, I'm fine. We've got to stop kissing. We're breaking too much furniture."

  Tears rolled down her cheeks as she laughed at Martin. Finally, she stopped and gazed at him. "You're the first man to kiss me. If anyone else ever kisses me, I'll expect to hear wood cracking."

  He raised and stared into her eyes, his blue ones darkening. "Am I wrong not to want another man kissing you?"

  Her heart slammed in her chest. Was this what she wanted? Was he saying he didn't want to end the ma
rriage?

  Before she could ask him what he meant, the wind slung the door open, crashing it against the wall. "Sounds like a storm is blowing in, we better go."

  They walked outside and she could see dark blue clouds approaching from the west.

  "Looks like a blizzard is coming in. Let's go," he said helping her up on her horse.

  Five minutes more and she would have had the answers she needed. Did he not want the marriage to end?

  Chapter 23

  A week later, his grandfather was still not doing much better and his grandmother sent him and Meg into town to pick up supplies and ask the doctor to visit.

  They stopped by the mercantile to check on the mail. Though now, he almost didn't want to receive the information from his friend. Now he wanted the marriage to continue and for him to tell them too bad, they were married until death did they part.

  While she waited in the wagon, he went inside.

  "Anything for the Halls or the Scotts?”

  The lady behind the counter thumbed through her stack of envelopes. "Yes, are you Martin Scott?”

  "Yes, I am. Do you know a Meg Scott?”

  "That's my wife. We'll be staying with my grandparents, the Halls, until spring."

  "Here you go," she said, handing him several letters and a package. A letter from his lawyer friend, one from his father, and a large wrapped envelope for Meg.

  Anxious, he walked outside to reach the wagon where Meg sat waiting. "You received a package."

  "Me?" she said stunned. "Who from?"

  "Don't know," he said, opening the one from his father. It was the same stuff. The same line about how he only wanted the best for his son and he would help his career in the railroad business grow. Nothing new in that correspondence.

  With delight Meg opened the box, gasping with happiness. “Fannie sent me a new fashion magazine." A tear rolled down her cheek as she pulled out a handwritten note. "Oh, how I miss my sisters. Even Daisy our little troublemaker. Thank goodness, they found Edith and she's getting married. I'll have to send her a letter."

  As she continued reading the missive, she shrieked. "My sister sneaked me the acceptance notice. I've been accepted into the New York City Fashion Design School for ladies. I'm to report no later than June 1. They go on to say they are very impressed with my designs and are looking forward to working with me."

  As if in shock, she turned toward Martin. "Now what do I do? We're still married."

  Her words were like a sword stabbing him in his heart. For some reason, these last few weeks, spending time at his grandparents, he hoped she might come to care for him. That maybe she didn't want the marriage to end, and yet, it was obvious she was determined to reach the big city and attend school.

  "Congratulations," he said, trying to sound excited while inside his chest splintered into a thousand shards of glass and he didn't understand why. "Guess we better get this marriage mess straightened out, so you can go to New York."

  For a moment, she stopped and looked at him, her eyes drawing together, confused and unsure.

  Part of him wanted to take her in his arms and beg her not to go, but she had to come to the conclusion on her own.

  The envelope from his friend he'd been delaying, he opened, his stomach tightening with pain. Quickly he scanned the words, his heart breaking with every word. "Well, nothing here that will help us."

  Folding the parchment, he put it in his pocket, determined to burn the missive once he reached home. The letter gave detailed instructions on how to end his marriage to Meg. Pain radiated from his stomach, his fists clenching together as he tried to hide his disillusionment, his frustration. No longer did he want their union to be annulled.

  "He gave you no ideas on how to obtain the annulment?"

  "Nope, said basically we're stuck," he said lying, knowing if she ever read the correspondence, they could have the union dissolved in about thirty days. In plenty of time for her to reach New York. Plenty of time for her to achieve her dreams while he remained here brokenhearted.

  But misleading her wasn't right and now he didn't have a clue what to do. Why hadn't he been honest? All he knew was that he didn't want her to leave.

  Chapter 24

  On Saturday night, Meg worked to make certain the wedding dress was ready to take to Betty. As her and Grandma put on the final beading, she looked at the beautiful gown in awe. Never would she have a dress like this one. When her marriage to Martin was annulled, she didn't think she would ever marry again.

  "You're about the same size as Betty. I think you should try it on. We can check to see if the bodice fits right and the hem is correct," Bessie said.

  One of her prettiest designs, so yes, she was taking credit for the beautiful gown. They started with a simple wedding pattern and turned it into one of the newer, more fashionable looks. The thought of trying it on, sent a chill through Cora.

  How she wanted to wear this dress and claim it as her own, but it belonged to someone else.

  "All right," she said, carrying the garment to her and Martin’s room.

  Martin sat talking to his grandfather, who was still in bed. The man had yet to recover from the illness that held him in its grip. The doctor didn't give much hope and only said he was fading.

  Every evening, Martin went in and spent time with the man he loved and when he came out, he always appeared a little down.

  Standing in the bedroom, she gazed in the mirror amazed at the gown's perfect fit. The trim skirt, the layer of tulle, the beading, it was the most magnificent gown she'd ever created. And she felt like a princess in the dress.

  Unable to reach the top buttons, she lifted the dress and hurried down the stairs. The train flowed out behind her, the skirt had a stylish bustle in the back.

  When Alice saw her, she covered her face with her hands. "Dear, you would have been such a beautiful bride."

  Warmth surged through Meg and she wished her wedding to Martin had not been rushed. After everything that happened, her mother had robbed her of a real ceremony, one with meaning.

  Martin came out of his grandparents’ room and gasped. “Meg.”

  He walked to her side, his eyes taking in every aspect of the gown. "Did you design this?"

  "Yes, but your grandmother and I added to an existing pattern. The pattern called for a full skirt, but I went with a more modern touch with the narrow waist and bustle."

  "Stunning, absolutely beautiful," he said as he tilted his head and smiled. "I'd meet you in front of the church."

  "But you're already married to me," she said softly, her heart aching with the knowledge that soon she would leave him and go to New York. Soon their marriage would end and that left a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

  "Our wedding didn't feel real," he replied.

  "No, just a ceremony neither one of us wanted," she said.

  A frown crossed his brow, and for a minute, she imagined he wanted to say more. She wanted him to say more. At that moment, if he said let's have a church wedding, she would have said yes. Instead, he glanced at his grandmother.

  “Grandmother, you're right. She's very talented."

  "After the women in Pagosa Springs learn she designed this dress, she's going to be busy."

  Did they really believe her skills were good enough to open her own shop?

  "What?" Meg said. "What are you talking about."

  “Meg, dear, if you want to create clothes, you don't need to go to New York. Do it right here in Pagosa Springs. There is no dressmaker in town. This wedding gown is going to give you lots of clients asking you to make them a dress."

  Could she be happy designing dresses for women here rather than going to New York and receiving training? If their marriage ended, she would be leaving and going back to Durango. The idea of moving home with her mother and father convinced her that couldn't happen.

  No, if there was the possibility that maybe, just maybe, her and Martin had a chance at real happiness and love, then she would consider staying.
No, she would not return to Durango.

  Even as a member of the Durango Ladies club, she wanted no association with that hen house.

  "Let's not jump to conclusions. Let's hear what Betty says tomorrow and after the wedding what everyone else has to say about the dress."

  Martin stepped up to her, his fingers caressing the side of her face. "Now I know how my wife would look like in a wedding dress."

  "Yes," she said breathless, wondering how she could continue to live with this man each day without touching him. Her body clamored for his and when she looked at him, it seemed like their souls were united. How could that be? Sure, they kissed, but nothing more, and yet she longed for more.

  Chapter 25

  Meg had never felt more nervous in all her life. After the services on Sunday, Alice and she took the wedding dress to Betty’s home for her to try on. Martin had stayed home with his grandfather. Why did she feel like her future rested on this design? Why did she want so badly for this woman to like what she'd done?

  It didn't matter. After all, she had been accepted into the fashion school, she would be going to New York this summer and this meant nothing. And yet their approval did matter. For some reason, her heart pounded in her chest and her stomach was so tightly clenched, she wanted to throw up.

  "Let me try it on. My mother will help me with the buttons," Betty said.

  Oh, how Meg longed to be in there when she first put the gown on. Longed to witness her initial reaction.

  "When you're ready, come out so we can check the length," Meg said, her tongue stuck in the back of her throat. The women disappeared behind a bedroom door.

  "What if she hates the dress," Meg said, gazing at Martin’s grandmother, wringing her hands. "What if it's all wrong and nothing like she wanted."

  The older woman reached out and grabbed Meg’s hand. "Deep breaths. Everything is going to be all right."

  As Meg swallowed the sickening nausea in her stomach that threatened to overwhelm her, she squeezed Alice’s hand, grateful the woman had come with her.