Fate's Intervention (8 page)

He eyed her warily when she backed away
little, eyes
downcast and a blush tinting her
pale cheeks. This was a new one. Coy? Shyness? Unexpected.
What was she playing at
? He wondered.

“
You didn
’
t like it?
”
She
asked
her voice just barely above a whisper.

She didn
’
t really expect him to answer that, did she? He groaned inwardly again and started to close his eyes to regroup when he remembered the last time he
’
d done that. She was eyeing him expectantly again, apparently waiting for him to claim his undying affection to her now that she
’
d willingly thrown abandon to the wind and kissed him. He
’
d had enough being polite.
Obviously,
she confused politeness with tenderness.

He ought to toss the little wanton to the ground and show her exactly what a man did with a woman, but then she
’
d probably tell her
father
and he
’
d end up married to the brazen hussy. That idea alone had a shiver of dread racing along his spine.

“
I think that maybe you ought to return to the main house, Miss Elizabeth.
”
His tone was quiet, but the authoritative delivery brooked no argument.

The pink hue in Elizabeth
’
s cheeks deepened,
“
but
. . .  ,
”

“
No buts, Miss Elizabeth,
”
he growled.
“
I
’
m old enough to be your
father
, and if you don
’
t leave before I finish this sentence, I
’
m going to wallop your behind just as if I
were
. . . .
”

Elizabeth
pushed past Matthew and ran down the lane. Matthew turned and watched her flee, a grin on his face.
“
Well, I
’
ll be. It worked. She didn
’
t let me finish my sentence.
”

Marcelle wanted to sit on her hands. Marcelle wanted to put on her insipid little smile. Marcelle wanted to regale the gentleman caller with tales of her frightening tendencies to harm the male species with a knitting needle.

Marcelle wanted to do what she couldn
’
t because her
father
was sitting in the parlor with them. Watching her closely.
She
’
d chased off three more possible marriage candidates in the last three weeks and her
father
had
had enough. Since each of those left the house insisting that his daughter was a few peaches short for a cobbler, her chances of marrying before the end of the year were getting slimmer.

Marcelle was beyond caring, despite her promise to her
father
to try
to
wed by year
’
s end. In reality, she was simply like a horse that refused to accept a bridle.
If
she
ever
did allow a bridle, she didn
’
t want just any man saddling up and riding her. She wanted to feel
closeness
to her partner that would allow her the freedom to be herself, so they could ride together without the need for controlling restraints. Yet how could she explain that to her
father
?
H
ow could she explain that this current fellow was no better than
the other men had been
in igniting that spark
that would lead her down the aisle?

“
More tea, Brian?
”
She asked sweetly, shooting her
father
a look that told him she could be most pleasant and that leaving the room was safe for their guest. He shot her a look that told her he wasn
’
t going anywhere.

Brian jumped at the sound of her voice. Neither of them had spoken in the last ten minutes and
apparently
,
the ensuing silence had almost lulled him to sleep.

“
Oh! No, no, my dear,
”
he said, rubbing an aged hand across his
gaunt
features. He was tall, which would normally be a plus, but he was also so thin that she doubted whether he could carry her across a threshold should she choose to wed him
–
w
hich, of course, she
’
d never do.
A stout wind could lif
t
him and carry him off
–
which she wished would happen now.
He was
far
too bland
to consider marrying
.

At
least her
father
had taken her seriously and found a man who wasn
’
t portly. Looking at him, however, she
rather
wished her
father
hadn
’
t veered so far in the opposite direction. What truly worried her about this caller wasn
’
t his weight or even his age
–
which her
father
also kept barely within the agreed upon range
–
but the fact that her
father
insisted on joining them in the room. That meant that he appeared to favor this man over the others, or he was going to make it difficult from now on for her to drive away suitors he considered eligible. He
’
d struck a bargain with her, and since he was keeping to his end by locating only slender men under forty, it appeared as if he was going to force her to uphold her end to behave and seriously consider them. None, however,
was
worth considering and she truly wished she could scare him off, back to Pinedale.

Brian Walker said that
’
s where he lived. Six or seven counties to the north of where they lived. She wasn
’
t exactly certain how her
father
had found this one, but she wished he hadn
’
t. From what little information she
’
d been able to
gather
from their extremely brief periods of conversation, Walker was a wealthy man as owner of a local bank.

When Brian stood a moment later, Marcelle inadvertently
breathed
an audible sigh of relief. Her
father
’
s eyes narrowed disapprovingly, but
it was
obvious Brian didn
’
t hear, which gave Marcelle pause. He was standing a lot closer to her than her
father
was
which could only mean that his hearing was deteriorating as fast as his body.

Her
father
was eyeing Brian strangely as well, so he was apparently thinking something similar.

Marcelle eagerly stood and escorted her caller to the front door.

“
Well, my dear,
”
Walker
said,
“
it
’
s been a
pleasure
making your acquaintance. I
’
m sorry I have to leave so soon, but it is a long ride home. I do hope we
’
ll have the opportunity of entertaining one another again in future.
”

Marcelle only smiled in response, not trusting herself to speak. She didn
’
t think she
’
d have to worry that Brian would come to call on her again.
She would be very surprised if he could recall
her name
, much less where she lived.
He seem
ed
quite inattentive
. What would surprise her even
more
would be if he lived long enough for a proper courting period. His health seemed frail. Perhaps that
’
s why her
father
approved.
If she married him then he would die shortly thereafter, most likely, leaving her widowed
–
and rich.
Then neither he
nor she would have to worry about finances again. The thought was so absurd that she giggled slightly. Fortunately, her caller took
her smile as approval for continued courtship. He took her hand and placed a light kiss on the back, then bowed low.

“
I look forward to returning soon. Until then, I
’
ll bid you good night.
”

Marcelle sighed when he boarded his carriage. She closed the door and laid her head against the wooden frame, sighing
loudly
. When she turned, her
father
was standing in the foyer watching her.

“
Wherever you dug that skeleton up, I
’
d suggest you
bury him again
,
”
Marcelle said.
“
You can
’
t seriously think that I
’
d prefer that scarecrow any more than
I did
Clifford Tub of Lard, do you?
”

Her
father
raised a hand to silence her objections.

“
I
’
m weary, dearest,
”
he said, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.
“
I think I
’
ll retire early for the night. You go and read or something.
”

“
Father
. . .  ,
”

“
I cannot argue with you, Marcelle, so let the subject alone until another day.
At
least know that our upcoming trip to the horse auction next week will postpone my matchmaking.
”

“
A
re
you sure you
’
ll be able to travel all the way to Lander?
”
Marcelle asked, noticing the pronounced circles of tiredness under her
father
’
s normally alert
emerald
gaze.

“
I think I have a cold, so I
’
m feeling a bit drained, but I
’
m certain that next week will see me spry again. Besides, I still have several clients that Stanharbor hasn
’
t managed to steal that rely on me to provide them with quality
horseflesh
. I mustn
’
t let them down or Stanharbor will
snatch them away as well. Then we will have nothing.
”

“
If Stanharbor is such a threat to our well-being, why did you want me to marry him?
”

“
If you
’
re married to him, he
’
d hardly remain a threat to your financial well-being, now would he? Since I wouldn
’
t have to concern myself with your care, then I could retire comfortably and not have to fret about whether my clients stayed with me or not. Stanharbor could take them all to blue blazes for
all
I care.
”

“
Oh,
Father
,
”
Marcelle said, wrapping her arms
about
his
waist,
and hugging him close,
“
why didn
’
t you tell me that my staying here was putting a strain on you?
”

“
Oh, Sweetheart, it
’
s not as bad as all that,
”
he said. He loved his daughter dearly and hadn
’
t thought what a careless statement brought about by irritation at not finding her a suitor and tiredness from being ill, would cause.
“
It
’
s more that I want someone capable looking out for you, not you having to worry about caring for me for the rest of your youth. Now,
”
her
father
said firmly
,
“
I
could use some r
est, so you find something to entertain yourself with this evening.
”
He reached around and released his daughter
’
s grip.