Читать книгу A Texan's Honour - Kate Welsh - Страница 8

Alex stood at the window of Jamie’s study, looking down at the busy street below. He watched as Palmer, his man of business, entered the carriage and drove off. Palmer had given him a good picture of the man their guest was up against. The news wasn’t good. Other than Amber and Jamie, Patience Gorham probably hadn’t a friend in the world who’d go up against her father.

Or Howard Bedlow.

And she was up against them both.

Dammit!

A noise behind him drew his attention. Reflected in the window’s glass, Patience stood in the doorway to the study. “Got impatient did you?” he said and plastered on a grin before turning. Thank God he’d had a bit of a forewarning. The way he felt at that moment he’d have sent the girl scurrying out the front door.

Into danger, no doubt.

Alex cursed under his breath. He’d been wrong. With some nourishment and rest, she was even lovelier than he’d remembered. And more than a bit alluring.

“I’m sorry to disobey your order but I must get on my way,” she said. That soft melodic voice that had followed him into sleep washed over him.

At dawn, Winston had relieved him of his watch on the house so he’d gotten a couple of hours of sleep but she’d been there waiting for him in his dreams, with her rich silky hair, those heart-stopping eyes and that voice that got him hard every time he heard it. And this time was no exception. Which left him feeling like the worst sort of cad. The poor thing was terrified of men—himself included.

He forced his mind off his hunger for her and onto her situation. It was good that no one had come pounding the door down, sure she was inside. Now that it was nearly nine in the morning, he was almost sure no one had seen her arrive last night. But he was just as sure there would eventually be an inquiry since apparently Patience and Amber corresponded.

“Disobey my order?” he asked. His heart ached at this window into the kind of life she must have led thus far. He was sure it was the kind of life his mother had been forced to live.

“Mrs. Winston said I was to stay above stairs.”

Alex sighed. “You have no obligation to do as I say, Mrs. Gorham. I merely suggested you remain there for your safety. But you may do as you wish.”

Though it seemed forced, she gave him an ironic little grin. “Would that that were true. I came to thank you for your hospitality. And to ask if you know of a shop where I could sell my jewelry.”

Alex considered her. “A pawn shop? You know you won’t get half what it’s worth, don’t you?”

She clutched her reticule to her stomach looking pained and sad. “That cannot be helped. I need the funds to get away.”

The jewelry means a great deal to her. It couldn’t be a gift from her late husband, then. With her desperation so clear in her eyes, she would be a lamb for the shearing to any pawnbroker.

He gestured toward the divan and, breaking protocol, he took a seat in the chair nearest her so she would know he had no intention of crowding her. “I must warn you, that sort of establishment is probably being watched.”

She shook her head. “My father has no knowledge that I have it. My mother gave it to me just before her death. I was to use it to get away from Mr. Gorham should I feel endangered.”

“As that means you never felt that desperate, I am glad you still have it. May I ask where it is you plan to go? Will you try to follow the countess to Ireland?”

“No. The wharfs are surely being watched. I had thought to make my way out of the city by rail.” She bit that lovely full bottom lip with her even white teeth.

He wanted nothing more at that moment than to nibble that lip, as well. The thought made his breath catch.

Then she spoke again. “That is how I got here, but if the wharfs are watched, I suppose the rail stations are by now, as well.”

Alex forced his desire for her into the background of his thoughts again. But his resolve to help her had only strengthened in the last minutes. He supposed everyone had a weakness. His was apparently a need to help those being forced into desperate circumstances by ruthless men. He didn’t know if it was altruism or if he was condemned to spend his life proving to himself and others he wasn’t like his father.

He hated the idea that Oswald Reynolds still had that kind of power and influence over his life. Alex stared ahead, trying to put away the notion of offering more help than he’d already given.

His move west was supposed to mean he’d be blazing a new path for himself. Alone. No reminders of his past. No associations that tied him to anyone but Jamie and his family. But there she sat looking so alone and forlorn. How could he not offer help when she could leave her past behind, too, and he could easily help her do it. “You don’t know where to run, do you?”

Her hands still clutched the pouch containing the jewelry. “No,” she said.

And that one bleak, hopelessly spoken word sealed his fate.

Winston appeared in the doorway perhaps with a reprieve. “Sir, there is a gentl—A person looking for a young lady. He claims she is off in the head.” Winston glanced rather pointedly toward Patience when she gasped. “A danger to herself and others.”

“I am not …” She popped to her feet, still holding the reticule in a desperate clench. “I swear, I am not anything of the—”

Alex stood and lifted a staying hand to stop her rush of words. She had suffered enough and shouldn’t be forced to beg for her very life. To Winston he said, “I will handle this. Is that all?”

“I left him on the stoop.”

“That was unusually rude of you, Winston.”

“Yes,” Winston agreed and Alex would swear he’d nearly smiled.

To Mrs. Gorham, Alex said quietly, “I will send him on his way. As to his claims, I can detect a lie when I hear one even if it isn’t firsthand. A lady like you would never invent the tale you have told me. I had a mother who was a lady and all that was kind and gentle. I know you felt diminished by what you were forced to reveal. This is not an order, ma’am, but for your safety, you should go with Winston and put your trust in those trying to help you.”

She simply nodded and hurried down the back hall following Winston.

Alex proceeded to the front door. He took a deep breath and schooled his features into that of the carefree lighthearted swell he’d pretended to be for so long. It was another part of his life he intended to leave behind.

A large man with a pinched face and a slightly unkempt appearance stood at the door, a step below. He straightened from his slovenly posture against the rail, looking mulish and annoyed.

Too damn bad, Alex thought as he gazed sardonically down his nose. Leaning on the doorjamb, Alex crossed his arms negligently. “I understand you’ve come seeking the Earl of Adair,” Alex said, making sure that no matter how relaxed he seemed to be he still blocked the doorway with his body.

“I’m with the Pinkerton Agency. We’ve reason to believe our client’s daughter came here looking for the earl’s wife. I’ve been sent to retrieve her.”

“Retrieve the countess?” Alex asked mildly, all the while considering the implication of the Pinkertons looking for one lone woman. Apparently Lionel Wexler was determined to get her back and by any means necessary.

The Pinkertons usually worked for powerful corporations against those who threatened their revenues or hunted dangerous criminals intent on menacing their clientele’s bank accounts and property.

Alan Pinkerton himself was a ruthless man. A few years ago he’d blown up a home where the mother of the notorious James brothers lived. Their younger half brother had been killed and their mother had lost an arm. Pinkerton denied the arson had been planned from the first but not many who lived by a strict moral code seemed to believe him.

“‘Course I’m not lookin’ for the earl or his lady,” the agent snapped. “I’m seeking Patience Gorham.”

Trying to appear just a bit vacuous Alex said, “Oh. I don’t believe I know that name. What is this about again?”

“She’s off her nut she is, sir. Mr. Wexler wants her back home safe and sound.”

Alex pretended to be startled. “Goodness. This sounds serious.” Then confused. “When is it you think she would have arrived on my cousin’s doorstep? And this Wexler chap is looking for a woman named Gorham but she is his daughter?”

The man’s gaze sharpened. “Thought you didn’t know her? Why so interested if you don’t know her?”

“Don’t know her. But I don’t live in my cousin’s pocket, either. I have my reasons for asking. When would this have been?”

“Yesterday or maybe the day before. Her papa isn’t sure when she escaped her room. Climbed down a tree like a child. Shows she’s not right in the head. Could’ve been killed or caused a scandal.”

The man had to be parroting Wexler’s concerns because Alex doubted this man had a clue how much of a scandal this would be were it to get out. Unfortunately, it was probably Patience who would be the one tarnished by the gossip this man was spreading. “I think you shouldn’t be letting that get out, in that case. I doubt her father expects you to go about damaging the poor daft girl’s reputation.”

The man had the good grace to look abashed.

But Alex was still left striving to keep his expression one of mild concern and not one of utter outrage. To how many others had this cretin bandied her sanity and good name about like an old society biddy?

Then the full import of what the man had said sank in. If they didn’t know when Patience had left, she must not have been given food for at least the two days in question. Nor had anyone bothered to check to make sure she was all right in her pretty prison cell.

It was a wonder she’d gotten this far before fainting. Suppose she’d fallen beneath the wheels of the train at the busy station or the hooves of a carriage team. Alex clenched his hands behind his back.

“This may be very bad,” he told the Pinkerton. “The countess added a maid to her staff only yesterday. Can you describe this woman?”

The man checked his notepad. “Uh … smallish. Red hair. Dark red, her papa said. Green eyes. ‘Bout all they told me so far. They’re working with a printer to make up handbills with her likeness on ‘em.”

“They? Her parents?” he asked, knowing her mother to be diseased.

“Her intended and her papa.”

Alex raised an eyebrow lazily. “Goodness, he must be a brave man to agree to marry a crazed woman. Or he must owe something to her father.”

“The maid, sir? There is a reward. And Mr. Pinkerton wants to impress this gent that hired him.”

“Well, I am sorry to tell you but the description does put me in mind of the new maid.”

The man put his foot on the top step but Alex put a hand to his chest, blocking his advance. “You didn’t wait for me to deliver the bad news. The earl and his family sailed yesterday for his estate. With their staff.”

“Where is it? This estate?”

For me to know and you to waste time finding out. If this ruffian worked on a false lead for a good while, Alex could use that time to get Patience out of the city. Let Wexler and the other one pay the Pinkertons to go chasing a wild goose.

Putting on his best, bored aristocratic expression Alex said mockingly, “He’s an earl. Where do you think his estate is?”

The man cursed roundly, turned away and stalked off down the marble steps without another word. He met with three others a few doors down. Alex smiled as the detective gave his cohorts the news. “You’re welcome, you vulture,” he said under his breath and stepped back inside.

Now to find out if Mrs. Patience Wexler Gorham was brave enough to consider starting over in Texas.

Patience returned to the study, responding to a summons from Alexander Reynolds. Her nerves were still jittery after hearing the lies her father was willing to tell about her. Contrary to her previous belief, a heart could break more than once. But she had no time to nurse it.

Alexander stood as she entered the room. Heddie Winston trailed after her and surprisingly joined her husband on the divan. Having servants party to a meeting was an oddity but Alexander seemed quite at home with the situation. She rather liked that about him. Actually she liked a great deal about the man Amber had told her about. She wondered if he was really the man she saw and if his kindness was not just a facade, as her husband’s had been.

He gestured to the high-back chair where he’d sat during their earlier interview. Patience sank into it gratefully, her knees still a bit weak.

“Thank you for cooperating earlier, Mrs. Gorham,” Alexander said and leaned against the desk.

“As you pointed out, doing as you asked was for my benefit. What is it you wished to tell me? Does it appear I can successfully flee?”

“I may have managed to shift your father’s search from this neighborhood and, in fact, from these shores for a while. Right now they believe you arrived here in time to escape to Britain as part of the earl’s entourage. But that will last only so long.”

Patience felt suddenly a bit lighter. “That means it may be safer for me to sell my jewelry to use for train fare.”

“Safer but not entirely safe,” he cautioned. “The Pinkertons are wily and may still question New York’s pawnbrokers. Besides which, it isn’t right that you should be forced to sell that jewelry. I assume it’s all you have left of your mother.”

Patience nodded, any elation gone at the prospect of selling the pieces to ensure her safety as she had promised her mother. In its place flowed memories and pain at the thought of letting them go.

On nights when her husband’s cruelty had been nearly too great to bear, she’d crept to her closet to finger her grandmother’s emerald-and-ruby set. She’d close her eyes and remember the Christmases around the tree at her grandparents’ home. Nana had always worn the jewels on Christmas, their vibrant colors just right for the occasion.

Standing in her closet, Patience had held tight to her mother’s diamond necklace, the one Mama had given her that fateful morning they’d set off for home. “If you need to get away before I can convince your father to intervene, you must use these,” Penelope Wexler had begged.

“This isn’t about sentiment. It is about survival,” Patience said now, repeating her mother’s last private words to her.

“Yes, it is about your survival,” Alexander agreed. “I have an idea how to accomplish that and more. First you should know there is a part of your situation I am afraid you don’t know. Your betrothal was announced in the Times this morning.”

Patience gasped then had trouble forcing the air back out. “I refused. How could he do that?” She shook her head. “Mr. Bedlow is going to be furious when he learns I ran away. He is a man who cherishes his pride. This will make him a laughingstock. He will never give up. Never!”

“If you’re willing to take a chance, this additional information may not matter but I felt you had a right to know if you didn’t—which you clearly did not. My idea is why I’ve asked the Winstons to sit in on this talk. I’ve purchased a ranch in Texas Hill Country. The Rocking R is near a small town called Tierra del Verde. I am to leave for the Newark, New Jersey, train station in less than two hours. From there I am to go to Philadelphia where I will board the earl’s private car to travel from Philadelphia as far as San Antonio, Texas. You are welcome to join me.”

Patience stared at him—elation warring with fear. Alexander Reynolds, she knew from Amber’s letters, had lived most of his life in the pursuit of one thing—seeing to his cousin’s safety. But Alexander was also a man. Patience couldn’t ignore that basic fact. How could she travel from New York to Texas in a train car alone with a man? Any man? Even Alexander Reynolds?

Mr. Gorham had seemed all that was kind and gentle until their wedding night, when he’d been unable to perform and had blamed her. That night and all the nights after. He’d tortured her nightly, squeezing and pinching her breasts till they’d been bruised purple. Men, once alone with a woman, became animals.

Alexander cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “I know this idea is a shock, but I must urge you think on it. If you traveled alone, you would be at the mercy of any number of strangers.

Strangers you would know nothing about and there would be no one with you to assure your safety. Even if you were lucky enough to travel unmolested, you would be in plain view. You are a lovely young woman and will draw the eye of everyone you encounter. That would make you extremely easy to track.

“The Pinkertons are very good at what they do. You will never elude them on your own. And that your father is powerful enough to hire them is even more of a worry for your chances alone. The betrothal announcement speaks to his confidence in finding you and bringing you to heel.”

As her heart pounded with fear, Alexander looked toward the Winstons. “And I have a proposition for both of you. It may come to light eventually that we three have aided Mrs. Gorham in her flight. Lionel Wexler, Mrs. Gorham’s father, is a powerful man used to getting his own way—as is her betrothed. Neither man will be happy with anyone who has aided her. If Jamie decides not to return to New York from Adair, you will both be released from his employ. I fear you might have difficulty obtaining new employment here in the East.”

“The day I let something like that stop me from doing what’s right is the day I’ll cease to be a good Christian woman,” Heddie Winston blustered. “Isn’t that right, Jordie?” she said to her husband. Apparently a man of few words, Winston merely nodded. “San Francisco was good to us. We’ll just go on back there.”

Patience blinked back tears of gratitude to these three strangers. “Please know I am grateful for all your kindnesses to me. But at the same time I am so sorry to have brought this trouble to your doorstep.”

Alexander spoke again. “It may be of no consequence to any of us. I have an idea to avoid any and all backlash from this.” Still looking at the Winstons he said, “I wondered if you two would consider accompanying Mrs. Gorham and me to Texas to work for me there. We would all travel in the earl’s private train car. There is plenty of room. And I think Mrs. Gorham would feel more comfortable with chaperones along. I’m told the car has two staterooms, four berths, a comfortable sitting room and a small dining area. But it is some distance by coach from San Antonio. There is no Indian activity in the area so you needn’t fear attack on the way. Still, I will see that men from the ranch are there to act as outriders for us on the rest of trip.

“Before any of you answer, let me tell you what awaits you at journey’s end. Tierra del Verde is a small town by any standard we are used to but it is quaint with Spanish influences in its architecture. The people I met while there are amiable and honest. It is hoped the railroad will extend that far and beyond but there is no knowing how long that will take. A while, I think. Which will be good for our purposes.”

He looked toward her and Patience found herself riveted by the kindness in his eyes. “There is a need for a teacher there, Mrs. Gorham. I’m sure your education more than qualifies you to fill the position. You could earn a living and begin your life anew.”

Patience felt a great spurt of joy at the thought of being a teacher. Then Alexander went on.

“The ranch is called the Rocking R.” He looked at Mr. and Mrs. Winston. “I’ve built a very nice house and need a head housekeeper and, of course, a butler to keep everything running smoothly.”

He seemed to have it all figured out, though Patience was nearly sure he would have no real need of a butler and he knew it. Patience wished she could resent his cool head and quick thinking. But he’d solved her problem and might have just offered her a real life. She couldn’t turn him down nor could she wait to hear the Winstons’ answer. She was sick to death of being a coward. She wanted to be more than she’d become in the last five awful years.

Taking a deep breath, she fisted her hands at her sides beneath the cover of her skirts where no one else could see and said, “I’d be honored to accompany you, Mr. Reynolds. I would love to be a teacher.”

Winston spoke before Alexander could respond. “Heddie and I were talking about how much we envy you your adventure, sir. We’d be proud to be in the employ of so fine a man. And if the young lady is going to be with you then it is better that Heddie and I will be going along, as well. Propriety should be observed or she will never get that position as the teacher.”

Alexander looked a bit surprised at that last statement. He nodded, somewhat uncertainly. “It seems there were things I had not considered. If we are all in agreement, then, we have quite a bit to accomplish in very little time. I am all packed so I can easily aid you, Winston. Mrs. Gorham, if you would be so kind as to help Mrs. Winston with her things, we are sure to make the train to Philadelphia. We will stay there tonight and begin the trek south tomorrow.”

“Oh, my,” Heddie said. “Mrs. Gorham is only free to help me because she has no clothes of her own.”

Patience blushed. She wasn’t sure which was more embarrassing. To place herself further in charity to these good people or to admit how underhanded she had been forced to become in order to escape her own parent. And to further have to admit how weak she’d become for lack of nourishment by the time she’d neared Amber’s address.

Unable to look so brave a man in the eye, she cast her gaze at Alexander’s feet and said, “I may have some things of my own. I … um … I tore my sheets and knotted them to make a rope so I could lower my portmanteau to the ground. It grew too heavy to carry any farther as I came to the park near here. I hid it beneath a pine tree at the entrance. It could still be there, I suppose.”

Alexander moved toward her. She watched his feet grow closer until he sank onto his heels before her. She couldn’t help but be alarmed by his nearness but almost against her will, she looked up and stared into his clear blue eyes. In them she read nothing but sincerity. “I find myself awed by your bravery and determination,” he said. “You have no reason to hang your head in shame. The men charged with your safety have much of which to be ashamed, however. And more even to answer for. I give you my word. I will keep you safe. Even from myself.”

He pivoted a bit on the balls of his feet and stood before walking back to his perch on the edge of the desk. “I will try to retrieve your portmanteau before aiding Winston. But I think I will take a sack along to put it in. It wouldn’t do for a lurking Pinkerton to recognize the pattern of your bag and grow suspicious.”

Alexander clasped his hands together with a snappy little clap. “Shall we get to it, then? This will be a record in readying for so life-changing a trip.” His face brightened with a mischievous sort of grin and his eyes sparkled. It buoyed her heart for some odd reason she still lacked the courage to consider. “And think what fun we’ll have outwitting them all. I’ve had a great time so far with Pinkerton’s finest.”

Alexander strode out but Patience couldn’t move. All she could do was stare after him as he moved out of sight.

“What is it, dearie?” Heddie asked.

“He is serious? He finds this amusing?”

“Oh, I doubt that, ma’am,” Winston said and stood. “I believe he’s trained himself to hide his true feelings. Imagine he had to, considering that father of his. Now, we should get at it. Perhaps, my dear,” he said, taking Heddie’s hand and assisting her to her feet, “perhaps you could see to the dust covers and Mrs. Gorham could pack your things.”

“I have a better idea,” Patience said. “Heddie, suppose we unite to do your packing, then we’ll work on the dust covers together, as well.”

“Oh, dearie, I can’t have you doing a servant’s work.”

Patience shook her head, so many feelings bombarding her she couldn’t separate the strands of relief, fear, excitement and sadness from each other. She had allies now. But even they were at risk from her father and Howard Bedlow. She was off on the adventure of her life—about to meld into the vastness of the western frontier. But it was such an unknown. “I have a feeling if I am to become a teacher, I had better get used to doing all sorts of housework. Oh, I cannot wait to be just plain Patience Wex—” She frowned. “I think a new name may be in order, as well, if I am to disappear completely.”

“If I might be so bold, ma’am. You could travel as our daughter. As a member of a family, you would cease to be a lone woman to be singled out in the minds of others. You would be the daughter of the butler and maid at the Rocking R.”

Patience was touched at the chance he’d taken with his pride. She could easily rebuff his offer because, to society’s eyes, his suggestion overreached his station. But she felt only gratitude. She smiled, truly understanding Alexander’s mischievous grin. Her father would never imagine she would trade her place in society to become the daughter of a butler and housemaid. “Winston, you’re a genius. Patience Winston.

I like the sound of it. My monogram handkerchiefs will even make sense. Thank you. What then should I begin to call you both?”

Winston gave her a small smile. “My father was called Papa by my sisters.”

“Papa it is, then. I don’t call my father that nor do I wish to be reminded of him. Thank you, Papa.” She looked at Heddie. “I called my mother Momma. And dear as you are to me for all your help last night and today, I couldn’t call you that.”

“I understand,” Heddie said, laying a hand on Patience’s shoulder. “Mr. Alex told me your mother is gone. Hmm … Mother sounds too formal for the child of a housekeeper.” Her brow furrowed in thought then seemed to blink back tears. “Would you be comfortable with Mum, dearie?”

“I would be honored as long as you don’t feel put upon.”

“Put upon? I am more than happy to hear that name. I was blessed with a girl child but she didn’t live long. It is the greatest sorrow of my life.” Heddie blinked again and sniffed as Winston patted his wife on the back, comforting her.

Seeing the sweet affection the stern butler showed toward his wife, reminded Patience of how empty of tenderness her life had been these past years. She lived with an ache inside her that went so deep she didn’t know how there was room left for anything else.

“We haven’t another moment to waste if we are to be on time for the train. Let’s get ready for our adventure,” Winston said, then tugged on his vest and straightened his spine. He was back to his formal self.

She and Heddie followed without complaint but Patience had to stifle a grin. The old phony wouldn’t fool her again with his cold, stiff demeanor. He was as good and kind a husband to Heddie as any woman could hope for.

Children and a good and kind husband had been Patience’s girlhood dream but they were beyond her now. Her new dream was to live her life in peace—mistress of her own future. If the West could give her that, she would ask no more.