Читать книгу The Unintended Groom - Debra Ullrick - Страница 11

Chapter Three

Standing in front of the free-standing mirror, Abby perused her appearance. The sides of her hair were pulled back and held with pearl combs and a dark blue ribbon. Tiny curls framed her face, and the rest of her hair hung loosely down her back. Her white, tufted-cotton bustle gown with the dark blue lace and ribbons and midlength sleeves would be cool, but not too cool for a warm evening in the Colorado Rocky Mountains. But just in case it wasn’t, she snatched up her knit shawl, then skipped downstairs to see if Veronique had everything ready.

The words to “Amazing Grace” sung by either Colette or Zoé, whose singing voices were very similar, floated through the massive room as she made her way into the formal dining room. “Hi, Zoé.”

Zoé, the middle sister to Veronique and Colette, turned from placing a silver chafing dish on the mahogany serving table and smiled. “Good evening, Abby,” she said in the same strong accent all of the sisters spoke with. Her soft gray eyes were the first thing a person noticed about Zoé. While the color was soft, because of the way her eyes were shaped, they appeared hard as if she were angry all the time, which she wasn’t.

Abby looked at the long table set for two. Her mother’s silver candelabra stood tall in the middle. Silver pedestal dishes set on each side piled high with fresh fruit and French pastries. Wedgewood bone china and crystal glasses sparkled like bright sunshine raining down on a clear mountain brook here in Colorado. Silverware...polished to perfection. “This looks great, Zoé.”

The eighteen-year-old girl’s face lit up. “You think so?”

“Yes. I sure do.”

“Zoé,” Veronique hollered from the other side of the swinging door.

Wisps of chestnut-blond hair swayed when Zoé yanked her attention in that direction. “I will be right there.” She curtsied and scurried into the kitchen.

Abby followed. Fresh bread, beef and pine aromas from the wood stove met her nostrils.

Veronique stood in front of the massive cook stove, wearing the same blue-and-white uniform as Zoé, stirring something in one of the copper pans sitting on the stove with a wire whisk. Without looking, Veronique told Zoé to grab the pastry-wrapped cinnamon apples out of the oven.

Colette sat at the table, slicing and peeling carrots. She, too, wore a matching uniform.

Abby wasn’t too keen putting on fancy dinners, but she had better get used to them for when she opened her dinner theater. “Something sure smells good, Veronique.” Abby raised the lid on one of the pans, leaned over and breathed deeply. “Umm. What is that?” She pointed to the dish.

“It is filet de boeuf charlemagne,” Veronique explained without taking her eyes off the pan she was stirring.

“Trans-la-tion...?” Abby drew out the word and let her sentence hang, waiting for Veronique to interpret what she’d said into English.

“Beef tenderloin Charlemagne.”

“Huh?” Abby frowned.

“Simply put, it is beef fillet steaks with mushrooms. What I am making now is a béarnaise sauce. I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will. I haven’t eaten anything of yours yet that wasn’t absolutely delicious.”

Veronique flashed a quick smile Abby’s way before putting her attention back onto the saucepan.

Abby glanced up at the kitchen clock. Five-twenty. “Well, I’ll get out of your way. Mr. Kingsley will be arriving in a few minutes.”

Veronique nodded as she placed the copper lid on the pan she’d been stirring. She removed it from the heat, tossed a pot holder onto the breadboard counter then set the pan down.

Abby had just turned to leave when she noticed a tray of strawberry and apple tarts. With a quick glance back at Veronique, like a little kid sneaking an early dessert, she snatched a strawberry tart off the plate and tossed it into her mouth.

Through the dining room and into the main room of the mansion she went, munching happily on the delicious treat.

A knock came at the door. Abby chewed fast and swallowed. Colette, Zoé and Veronique were busy, so she hollered, “I’ll get it.” Her heels tapped along the floor as she made her way to the front door. She swung it open and blinked. There stood Harrison holding a small boy in each arm.

“I’m sorry, Abby, that this notice is so late, but a few minutes ago, the boys’ nanny and my valet came down sick. Must’ve been something they ate this afternoon because my sons aren’t sick. The food they ate wasn’t the same as what Miss Elderberry and Staimes ate. I don’t know anyone in town, and I won’t leave my boys with a perfect stranger. So, I’m here to let you know that I won’t be able to make it to dinner this evening. I’m sorry.” Remorse wrinkled his handsome face.

Abby glanced at the two boys. A fresh ache filled her heart, but she refused to let it get her down or to dwell on what could never be. Instead, she sent the boys and their father her most inviting smile and quickly swung the French doors open. “Don’t be silly. There’s no need for you not to stay. Besides, there’s more than enough food. I’ll just have Zoé set two more places and find something for the boys to sit on. It’ll be just fine.” Now she just had to convince herself of that by reminding herself that God had a plan, as vexing as that could be sometimes. She leaned toward the boys, eyeing each one with a smile. “And who might you boys be?”

Neither of them said a word; they just tucked their tiny shoulders closer into their father’s chest and eyed her warily.

“This one here—” Harrison nodded toward the child on his right “—is Graham. And this one—” he nodded at the child on his left “—is Josiah.”

“Hello, Josiah and Graham. Welcome to my home. Won’t you come in?” she said to the twins who resembled their father in much, much younger versions. They even had Harrison’s light brown hair and grayish-blue eyes. Except neither of their eyes had a portion of hazel coloring like their father’s did.

“Can you say hello to the nice lady?” Instead of saying hello, they buried their faces into their father’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she mouthed, and waved him in with her hand. She moved out of the way, and Harrison stepped inside. “Are you sure about this, Miss Bowen? We really hate to impose.”

She wasn’t sure of anything, but she’d make herself be. “It’s Abby, and of course I’m sure or I wouldn’t have said so. Listen, why don’t you take the boys into the parlor, and I’ll inform Veronique there will be extra guests this evening? I’ll be right back.” Abby whirled around and headed toward the kitchen. Those adorable boys in their skirts and knee socks resurrected the pain shoved deep down in Abby’s heart and soul. The one she rarely allowed to surface into her actual consciousness lest it rob her of her happiness completely. “Lord, help me get through this evening.”

* * *

Harrison lowered himself onto the settee in the parlor, and settled a son on each leg. When Staimes and Miss Elderberry came up sick at the last minute, Harrison’s own stomach had taken ill. Not from food sickness, but with worry. He feared upsetting Miss Bowen by ruining her dinner plans, but he didn’t. Women of his society back home in Boston wouldn’t have been so gracious. They would have shunned him for days, and some indefinitely over something like this.

He would have hated it if Abby would have shut the door in his face. And even though it couldn’t be helped, he wouldn’t have blamed her. After all, a lot of hard work and hours of preparation went into making a meal, not to mention the food that would have gone to waste if he hadn’t been able to come.

Relief skimmed over him the instant Abby had smiled and opened her doors to him and the twins, and his stomach stopped hurting. He no longer had to worry about how she would be with the children.

Harrison’s lips curled, knowing he wouldn’t have to miss dinner with the twins. He and his sons almost always ate breakfast and dinner together, unlike most of his friends who sent their children away to boarding school or left them with a nanny twenty-four hours a day. That wasn’t for him or his boys. No, he never wanted his children to feel like he had growing up—unwanted and unloved.

Just then, Abby breezed into the room, holding a medium-size box with toys sticking out of the top. “I found these in the attic. I was going to send them to my nephews, but I’m sure Josiah and Graham would enjoy playing with them.” She set the box on the coffee table in front of his sons.

Their eyes widened, but at first they did not move. Finally, he slid them both to the floor and nudged them in that direction. They slipped from his protection, and with their heads together, they gazed into the box.

“Go ahead. You can play with them.” They looked up at her, then at him as if seeking his approval. He nodded.

Each one quickly snatched a toy, and together, they headed over and sat down on the floor near the fireplace. They had each selected a section of train, and when Harrison brought the box over to them, they began removing the rest of the toys from the container.

Knowing they were occupied and having fun, Harrison came back and placed his attention on Abby. “Thank you for that. And thank you for understanding about the ruined dinner plans. I really hated to do that to you.”

Abby waved him away. “It’s nothing. Really. And you didn’t ruin a thing.”

“By the way, I meant to tell you, you look very nice this evening.”

“You mean compared to earlier?” An amused smirk curled her lips.

“Oh. I see how that sounded. My apologies. I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant you look very nice.” She did, too. Dressed in a striking white dress that showed off her trim figure, and with her shining hair hanging freely down her back, she looked stunning. Even her hands looked nice. Her long graceful fingers weren’t red like they had been earlier.

“I had it first, Siah!”

Harrison’s attention darted toward his boys.

“No. I did!” Josiah yanked it from his brother’s hands.

“Boys. That’s enough.” He stood and headed toward them, but he was too late.

Josiah snatched the toy in question, raised it and whacked Graham, hitting him squarely in the head. The wail that ensued could surely be heard in Boston.

Harrison picked up his screeching son and held him close, patting his back and speaking soothing words to him.

Abby was at his side in an instant, worry etched on her face. She dropped to her knees and started talking to Josiah. Harrison couldn’t hear what she was saying because Graham’s cries still filled his ears.

Minutes passed before Graham’s tears finally let up. Harrison leaned him back to check the top of his head. A small amount of blood streamed through his hair. “Abby, do you have a washcloth I can use?” Oh, how he hated having to ask, hated having to bother her with this. She was going to think he was far more trouble than he was worth.

She stood, holding a tear-soaked Josiah in her arms. “I sure do. I’ll be right back. If it’s okay with your father, would you like to go with me, Josiah?”

He wiped his eyes and slowly nodded, then looked over at Harrison. Remorse and trepidation filled his son’s eyes. “You may go with her. But before you do, you need to say you’re sorry to your brother. It is never okay to hit someone else. Do you understand that?”

Josiah nodded. “Saw-ree, Gam.”

Graham wouldn’t look at him. Instead, he buried his face into Harrison’s collar.

“Graham, what do you say to your brother?” Harrison asked.

The boy did nothing.

“No. Come on. It’s time to make up. Give your brother a hug.” He put him on the floor.

Abby lowered Josiah, as well.

Graham shook his head.

“Very well, then, Graham. You will not be allowed to play with Miss Abby’s toys any longer.”

Graham turned wide eyes up at him, then rushed to his brother and hugged him long and hard. Pretty soon they were giggling. His sons sat down on the floor again next to the toys.

“That didn’t take long.” He turned to Abby, who was smiling up at him.

“You sure handled that nicely.”

Her words made him feel proud. His biggest fear was failing as a father. “Thank you.”

They smiled at each other.

“I’ll run and get that washcloth now.”

“Thank you.”

Harrison watched his sons as Abby exited. He sighed. Great first impression they were making.

Abby entered the room a few minutes later holding a bowl and a clean cloth. While Harrison and Abby cleaned his small wound, Graham squirmed and fretted, acting as though they were torturing him or something. When it was all over, he settled back onto the floor and started playing as if nothing had happened.

“Mademoiselle, dinner is ready.”

The woman standing only a few yards from him was tall with chestnut-blond hair and grayish-green eyes, who spoke with a French accent very much like Colette had earlier.

“Harrison, this is Zoé, Colette’s sister. Oh. I forgot to introduce you to Colette earlier. I was, um, a bit disheveled.” Abby’s soothing laughter reminded him of the musical sound of a sparrow songbird back home in Boston. “Anyway, Zoé, this is Mr. Harrison Kingsley.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.” She curtsied.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he said. Even though he wasn’t used to people in his society introducing him to their help, he liked it. He liked the informality a lot. Back home it sure wouldn’t be acceptable. But, then again, he wasn’t back home. He was here. A quick glance at Abby, and he was glad he was, too.

“Shall we head into the dining room?” Abby asked.

His heart plummeted to his perfectly shined shoes. Abby had no idea what she was getting herself into when she’d invited his boys to dinner. He should have warned her before accepting her generous offer.

Abby’s arm rested on top of Harrison’s. “It’ll be okay. I have several nephews and nieces. I know how they can be.”

Harrison let out a long breath of relief. It was nice not having to worry about someone wanting to whisk his rambunctious sons off to another room. Or even worse, a boardinghouse, like Prudence had wanted to send them to once they were married. Over his dead body would he have ever allowed her or anyone else to send his boys away.

Good thing this whole arrangement with Abby was strictly business because with her kind heart and gentle way with his boys, he could easily fall for her. And he was never going to let that happen again. He’d been duped once before by a pretty face and a sweet disposition toward his children. Prudence had always acted like she loved children. Loved his sons. Even though he hadn’t loved Prudence, something she was very much aware of, it was because of her love for his sons that he had asked her to marry him. He hoped love would eventually follow. However, he soon discovered that her fondness toward them had been nothing but a ruse to marry a man who could keep her in the style she was accustomed to.

He’d never forget the day when Prudence had roughly handled his boys and said intolerable and cruel things to them. Of course, she didn’t know Harrison had been nearby. Thankfully, he had been. He had immediately put an end to her abuse as well as their relationship, and sent her away for good that very day.

Thus, Harrison needed to remind himself often that Abby was a business partner and nothing else. One look at her smiling blue eyes and sweet face, though, and he knew keeping it strictly business was going to be a challenge.

* * *

The early morning sunrise peeked through the curtain in Abby’s sparsely furnished bedroom. Snuggled under the red-and-white quilt Mother had sent along with her, Abby rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Her thoughts drifted to the calamitous dinner from the night before.

Poor Harrison had been so mortified.

Not her; she laughed the whole time—inwardly of course.

The near-four-year-olds’ antics had more than tickled her, even when they’d tossed glazed carrots at one another and a piece had landed in her hair. And even when they’d dumped mashed potatoes and gravy onto the floor, or when they’d spilled their milk all over the white linen tablecloth.

The whole thing had been hilarious to her, but not to Harrison, who had profusely apologized, repeatedly. She had assured him none of it had bothered her, that nothing in this world was worth getting fidgety over, and that they were just things that could be washed.

Other than those few incidences, everything had gone quite well. Dinner conversation flowed freely until the boys had fallen asleep with the sides of their faces resting in their dessert.

She and Harrison cleaned them up before he left with the promise of arriving early the next morning.

Speaking of arriving early, Abby tossed her quilt off and went to the window and pulled the curtain back. Dark clouds drifted toward the direction of town bringing with them a Rocky Mountain rainstorm. Didn’t matter. She wouldn’t let anything stop her from today’s mission.

While she donned her peach satin bustle gown and plumed hat, she couldn’t help but think about Harrison’s boys again. The longing to have her own children chopped away at her heart. Why did she think moving away from her beloved nieces and nephews would solve her problem? At the time, it sure made sense. Of course, back then she didn’t know that the town committee wouldn’t let her start her business without a male partner.

And back then, she didn’t know that the man God had placed in her life would have two adorable little boys who would capture her heart with a single look, either.

Abby closed her eyes and sighed.

What was she going to do?

Ever since Doctor Berg, who she’d only gone to see because she had missed several of her monthly cycles in a row, had told her she had womb death, her life had never been the same. The drying up of her womb, something most women started in their forties, meant she would never bear children. Hearing that diagnosis had crushed any hopes she had of being a mother. That dreadful day she had fled from his office and cried until her heart felt numb with grief. Grief for the children she would never carry. That same day, when she told her fiancé, David, about it, he immediately broke off their engagement, telling her how important it was to not just him, but any man to have offspring of his own. Watching him strolling around town with another woman on his arm and later, holding his baby, had been much too painful for her to endure.

Same thing with her siblings. While she was extremely delighted for her brothers and sisters, seeing them happily married with children reminded her daily of what she herself would never experience—a loving husband and a house filled with children.

It was because of all that she decided to open a dinner theater far away from Paradise Haven. She loved how when she was on stage acting, or sitting in the audience watching, she was transported into another world.

A world of happily ever afters.

A world she could participate in, instead of standing on the sidelines and being an observer only.

Of course, none of it was reality, but still, it helped take her mind off the pain of her reality.

Thinking about reality, she needed to hustle her body downstairs. Harrison would be there any minute to pick her up.

At the bottom of the winding staircase, Abby saw Veronique heading toward the front door.

Harrison must already be here.

“Good morning, Monsieur Kingsley. Won’t you come in?” Veronique stepped aside to let him in. “May I take your chapeau, sir?” He handed his fedora to Veronique, who hung it on the hat rack.

“Thank you. Veronique, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

His gaze shifted from Veronique and onto Abby as she strolled toward him.

Veronique slipped away.

The closer Abby got to him, the more she realized no one should be allowed to be that handsome. It wasn’t fair to women who were trying to not notice that fact. Women, like herself, who had to disengage her emotions in order to guard her heart where the male species was concerned. Still, she couldn’t help admire how nice he looked.

Dressed in a finely tailored, dark gray suit with a light gray waistcoat, white satin shirt and a dark gray neckerchief, he made an intimidating presence. Just what was needed when going up against the committee board.

“Good morning,” she said with a bright and chipper pitch to her voice.

“Good morning to you. You look very nice.”

“So do you.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Well, are you ready for this?”

“Am I ever.” She couldn’t wait to see the mayor’s face or the committee members’ faces, whichever of them would be there this morning, when she walked in with Harrison.

Abby started to wrap her shawl around her shoulders, but Harrison finished the task for her. She grabbed an umbrella, and Harrison offered her his arm. She looped her arm through his, and as they headed out the door, he snatched his hat off the hook and set it on that lovely head of hair of his.

Cool morning air greeted them as they stepped outside.

Abby’s attention went to the sky. Judging by the black ominous clouds, she knew it would be only a matter of minutes before a downpour of rain came gushing down on them. “We’d better hurry.”

Harrison followed her gaze. “You’re right.”

Down the steps they scampered. Abby paused at the buggy sitting in front of her house. “You didn’t need to do that. It’s only a short walk to the town hall.”

“I know. And yes, I did. Can’t have a fine lady such as yourself walking now, can I?”

“I do it all the time.” She shrugged.

“Well, not today.” His half smile showed up. He extended his hand, palm up.

Abby laid her hand in his and immediately noticed how liquid warmth spread up her arm and throughout her chest. She’d never experienced anything like that before, and she had no clue what it meant, either. But it was a very nice feeling just the same.

“Abby?”

Abby blinked, then looked at him. “Yes?” He gave a light tug on her hand. “Oh. Forgive me.” She raised her skirt above her shoes and stepped up into the buggy, then tucked her skirt inside.

Harrison went around to the other side and sat next to her. His wide shoulders came close to touching hers. He picked up the lines and clicked them. The buggy lurched forward, yanking her backward a tad.

“How are your valet and nanny feeling this morning?” she asked.

“Much better.” His gaze trailed to her hat. “You’re not hiding the carrot my son tossed at you under that hat, are you?”

Abby laughed. “No.”

“I don’t know how my nanny does it. The boys can sure be rambunctious.”

“Don’t I know it. If you think your boys are rowdy, you should see my nephews. Your sweet sons are mild compared to them.”

His brow spiked.

“Well, maybe not.”

They both laughed.

Harrison stopped the buggy in front of the town hall just as a bolt of lightning pierced the sky and the thunder boomed immediately afterward. Abby screeched.

“We’d better get inside.”

Yes, they’d better do just that. Hurry and get inside so she could get her license. A thought flicked through her brain that if for some reason she didn’t get it, there would be even more thunderous rumbling going on and it wouldn’t be from the storm, either. Especially after doing what they’d asked, obtaining a gentleman business partner, how could they possibly say no now?

She looked into Harrison’s eyes as he helped her down. Make that a very handsome business partner. Careful, Abby. Don’t get too close to him. You’ll only end up hurt if you do.

* * *

Harrison forced himself to look away from Abby’s piercing blue eyes. She was a beautiful lady who didn’t flaunt her beauty.

A rare thing in this world. Or at least the world he came from, anyway.

Another snap of lightning zigzagged through the sky. It was only a matter of seconds before the rain came. Cupping Abby’s elbow, Harrison led her up the steps and inside the extravagant building.

They walked up to a steely-looking lady seated behind an oak desk. “May I help you, sir?” No warmth or friendliness came through her voice.

“I’m here to see the mayor.”

“And you are...?”

“Mr. Harrison Kingsley and this is—” he looked at Abby “—Miss Abigail Bowen.”

“Yes. I know. We’ve met. How are you today, Abby?”

“Very well, and you, Miss Elsa?”

“Well, my shoulders are giving me fits again and my leg is acting up because of the weather, but that’s to be expected. I ain’t as young as I once was.”

Harrison couldn’t believe this was the same lady who came across so stern. Perhaps it was because of the pain she was in. He waited patiently while the ladies chattered on.

“We’re here to get my business license,” Abby finally finished.

“Business license?” The woman tilted her head, looking confused. “You don’t need a license to run a business.”

Harrison looked over at Abby, and Abby looked at him, wide-eyed. His frown started at his forehead and dropped all the way down to his heart. “What’s going on here?”

She genuinely looked surprised. “I have no clue. All I know is I was told I had to have a license, and that they wouldn’t give me one unless I took on a business partner. A male business partner.” She looked as confused as he now felt.

“Well, we’ll get to the bottom of this.” He turned his focus onto Miss Elsa.

Miss Elsa’s face turned the color of sheep’s wool. “Abby, please don’t tell the mayor I said anything. I can’t afford to lose my job.”

“Don’t you worry about that, Miss Elsa. We won’t say anything, will we, Harrison?” Abby’s eyes pleaded with him for Miss Elsa’s sake.

He didn’t want to cost the elderly woman her job, but something fishy was going on here, and he was going to find out exactly what it was. He’d just have to figure out a way of doing it without saying anything. “We won’t say anything. Will you please tell the mayor we’re here?”

The color returned to the lady’s face. “Yes, sir.” She rose, paused and looked at him. “Thank you.”

He gave her a quick nod.

The woman limped slowly toward the end of the hall.

Seeing her handicap, Harrison embedded it into his brain not to say anything about what the woman had said to them. He didn’t want to cost anyone their job. Especially someone who could barely walk.

Miss Elsa returned. “The mayor will see you now.”

“Thank you, Miss Elsa,” Abby said with a smile.

Harrison and Abby followed Miss Elsa down the long hall. Portraits hung on either sides of the wall. “Who are these men?”

“That one’s the mayor.” She pointed to the largest portrait. “The others are the town committee members.”

“I see.” That painting of the mayor told Harrison a lot about the person he was about to encounter. He was full of himself. Harrison knew exactly how to handle someone like him. After all, he’d had a lot of practice at that endeavor.

Miss Elsa knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

The woman opened the door and moved out of the way. “Get us something to drink,” the short rotund man sitting behind the massive desk demanded of Miss Elsa without so much as a please anywhere in sight. No wonder the woman had looked so miserable when they’d first walked in. Anyone who had to work with someone like him, someone with no manners, would be miserable. He knew that firsthand working for his father. From what Miss Elsa said, she had no choice. She needed the job. Well, when they got their business up and running, he’d talk to Abby about hiring the older woman to help ease her misery.

The portly mayor didn’t even stand when they entered the room. Harrison mentally shook his head. This was going to be an interesting meeting. But he loved a good challenge.

“Miss Bowen, good to see you again.” The way he said it spoke volumes. He hadn’t meant a single word of his greeting. This arrogant snob was phonier than fool’s gold. His eyes ran up and down Harrison, a look meant to size him up and to intimidate him. Harrison wasn’t the least bit fazed. He’d come across his type before.

“Mr. Prinker, may I introduce Mr. Harrison Kingsley? My new business partner.” Abby’s gaze stayed on Harrison, though he caught the smug look she gave the mayor just the same.

Mr. Prinker’s thin lips separated, and his bushy brows rose toward the ceiling.

Harrison grinned inside and extended his hand. “Mr. Prinker.”

The mayor just stared at the hand as if it were something that would devour him. He was right; Harrison just might cause the man some bodily harm if things were as he surmised they might be. Moreover, he knew he had the upper hand the moment the mayor showed the slightest sign of weakness. One always had to assess their opponent before going into battle. His father had taught him the art of combat well.

Mr. Prinker quickly masked his surprise, and his face turned stern. “There’s been a change in plans, Miss Bowen. I was going to send a message to you this afternoon. We’ve decided not to grant you a license, after all.” He sent Harrison a sly grin. The challenge was on.