Читать книгу Finally a Bride - Renee Ryan - Страница 13

Chapter Five

Garrett grimaced at the look he caught on Molly’s face, right before she turned her back on him. He’d offended her, somehow, when that hadn’t been his intent.

Rather than demand an apology, as she would have done in the past, she simply walked away from their conversation. Head high, chin tilted at a jaunty angle, she showed no real signs of temper. Yet, when she shut the door behind her with a firm click, her message was unmistakable.

Garrett was dismissed.

Torn between exasperation and amusement, he tunneled his fingers through his hair.

The afternoon was turning out to be a strange one. Indeed, nothing was as expected. There was Fanny with her uncommon tears and drama, Molly with her lack of either. In a matter of hours, his well-ordered, predictable world had tilted slightly off-center.

As if matters weren’t confounding enough, Callie joined him on the landing, a frustrated scowl on her face. “I’ve been banished from my own home.”

“Don’t look so tragic, Cal.” Her annoyance sent a slow smile curving across his mouth. “You earned your dismissal.”

She visibly stiffened. “I most certainly did not!”

“No? You were unusually harsh with our sister. That’s not typical of you.”

With exaggerated dignity, her spine snapped straighter still. “I don’t regret my behavior here today.”

He held silent for effect.

“All right, yes.” She gathered in a tight breath, let it out slowly. “I suppose I could have been more delicate in my delivery.”

“You suppose?”

Her lower lip wobbled. And then—God save him—her eyes filled with tears. Just what the afternoon needed, another bout of unchecked female emotion.

Too much for one day.

If he were a wise man, Garrett would head down the stairwell, exit the boardinghouse and just keep walking.

He remained firmly in place, watching Callie, waiting for her to pull herself together. Unlike Fanny, this sister wouldn’t welcome any outward show of sympathy from him.

After a moment of eye blinking and steady breathing, she morphed into the cagey fighter he knew her to be—and smoothly turned the conversation back on him.

“You and Molly, overly polite with one another, acting as if there’s no history between you. I want an explanation. A real one, this time.”

Holding on to his patience, barely, he rubbed a hand over the stubble of a late-day beard coming in. “Haven’t we been through this already?”

“Yes, and we’ll continue to revisit the topic until I get a reasonable answer out of you.”

Of that, he had no doubt. Once his ornery sister had an idea in her head, she never let go. “It’s just as Molly said earlier. We joined forces for Fanny’s sake.”

“How very noble of you both.”

A portion of his patience edged into annoyance. “Save the sarcasm, Callie, it’s not helping, nor is it productive. In fact—”

She talked right over him. “I can’t think of a time in the past six months since you’ve been home that I’ve seen you and Molly in the same room, much less conversing with one another beyond monosyllables.”

She was right, of course. Since taking the position at Bennett, Bennett and Brand, Garrett had made every effort to avoid Molly, and she him. With both of them working toward a common goal, they’d reaped remarkable success, managing to circumvent one another as efficiently as possible.

That had changed today. Even without Fanny’s situation to bring them together, Mrs. Singletary had tapped Garrett to work with her directly. Which meant he and Molly would cross paths far too often.

He exhaled sharply.

“Garrett, I asked you a question.”

Another ripple of annoyance shred what little patience he had left. “No, you made a statement.”

She rolled her eyes. “I see you’re going to be difficult. So let me speak frankly.”

“Never a good idea,” he muttered.

She ignored the barb. “Why—no, how—did you and Molly end up arriving here together? The truth, Garrett. I won’t accept anything less.”

Short of muzzling her, he might as well give his tenacious sister what she wanted. “It’s not complicated,” he explained. “When you and I couldn’t talk Fanny out of her room, I went in search of Molly.”

“Because?”

“I wanted answers and I thought she had them.”

“Why would you think Molly knew any more than we did?”

“I believed she’d been the one to influence Fanny’s decision.”

Callie gasped. “You didn’t actually accuse Molly of such a terrible thing?”

He shrugged. “Her history speaks for itself.”

“Garrett, Garrett, Garrett.” Callie shook her head in obvious disapproval. “You really don’t know her at all.”

Oh, he knew her. Or rather, he thought he knew her. He wasn’t sure anymore. And that left him even more agitated than before. If he’d been wrong about Molly in this situation, was he wrong about her in other ways as well? Was he prejudging her unnecessarily without gathering all the facts?

“Maybe I don’t know her as well as I thought,” he conceded.

With far too much perception in her gaze, Callie studied him out of narrowed eyes.

Garrett braced for one of her lectures. But she surprised him by switching topics again. “What are we going to do about Fanny? I can’t bear to watch her ruin her life.”

This abrupt change of subject gave Garrett pause. Callie was trying to tell him something, something personal, perhaps. But what? What was going on inside that complicated mind of hers? He could simply ask, but he suspected she wouldn’t answer him candidly.

Besides, the day was slipping away and he had a lot of work still to do.

“We can’t help Fanny until we know more,” he said reasonably.

“I guess not.” Callie released a resigned sigh. “Let us pray Molly can convince her to see reason.”

He nodded.

But then Molly’s words came back to him with alacrity. If Fanny doesn’t love Reese enough to want to marry him, then maybe, maybe she’s making the right decision.

Pulling out his watch, he flipped open the lid and read the time. “I need to get back to the office.” He refocused on Callie, then glanced around the darkened landing. “Will you be all right if I leave you here alone?”

Her withering glare was answer enough. Right, his mistake—Callie was a grown woman of twenty-three, more than capable of taking care of herself in her own home.

“I’ll try to stop by again soon,” he said. “If not later this afternoon, then tomorrow at the latest.”

“Will you speak to Reese after you return to the office?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps.”

Her eyes went cool, accusatory.

“Stop looking at me like that. For all I know, he might have already left for the day.” Though Garrett doubted it. Reese was nothing if not dedicated to his work.

Maybe she’s making the right decision...

He heard Callie say something more, something about his duty as an older brother to his hurting sister, but Garrett had already started down the stairs. He waved a hand in farewell, exited the boardinghouse. And just kept walking.

* * *

“It occurs to me,” Molly said to Mrs. Singletary as they awaited Garrett’s arrival in the blue parlor later that evening, “that a night at the opera is an odd place to begin your business association with Mr. Mitchell.”

The more she thought on the matter the more she realized how truly out of character the request had been. There could be no opportunity to discuss their plans, or any other business for that matter. That left one glaring reason for the invitation.

Mrs. Singletary was, indeed, playing matchmaker. With Molly and Garrett as her current victims, er...beneficiaries.

Molly stifled a groan. She couldn’t fall for Garrett again. She’d given far too much of herself to him once before, only to suffer unspeakable heartache. There’d been no letters once he’d gone away to school, no contact when he’d come home on breaks and certainly no cause to hope he’d change his mind about them.

As time and distance had brought healing, Molly had moved on with her life. Or so she’d always thought. Today had shown her that a part of her would always belong to Garrett. He’d been her first love, her first kiss, her first everything. There was no erasing that sort of shared history.

However, that didn’t mean she was willing to open her heart and let him trample on it again.

“Nonsense, my dear, his joining us this evening makes perfect sense.”

Did it? Molly had her doubts.

Calm as you please, Mrs. Singletary picked up her enormous cat and set the animal on her lap. Weighing in at nearly twenty pounds, Lady Macbeth’s fluffy black-and-white fur spilled over the edges of the chair.

While stroking the cat’s back, the widow slid a look at Molly out of the corner of her eye. “Aside from getting to know the young attorney better, this is an opportune time for you and Mr. Mitchell to become more comfortable in one another’s company.”

Decidedly uncomfortable, Molly’s stomach dipped at the prospect of spending the evening with Garrett. She was already on edge after her conversation with Fanny. Her friend had explained herself in excruciating detail, sharing reasons Molly understood all too well. And that brought her back to Mrs. Singletary’s frustrating, albeit well-meaning, interference in her life.

“You want me to become more comfortable with Mr. Mitchell, nothing more?”

“It’s as simple as that.”

Possible. But not probable.

Unable to stand still any longer, Molly moved restlessly through the elegantly decorated room. She wove a path around the brocade furniture and randomly placed tables adorned with priceless trinkets. Her footsteps caught the rhythmic ticking of the large grandfather clock Mrs. Singletary had purchased on her last trip to London.

Unfortunately, the slow, soothing cadence did nothing to ease Molly’s agitation. “Why is this so important to you?”

For all intents and purposes, she’d called her employer’s bluff. Would Mrs. Singletary admit to her plan now, or continue to play coy?

“I saw the stiff way you two interacted with one another this afternoon. If Mr. Mitchell and I are to work closely together, it’s essential you and he smooth out your differences before we begin.”

Molly should have guessed the observant woman would have noticed the charged atmosphere in the man’s office. “Garrett and I aren’t at odds with one another, if that’s what you’re implying.”

It was shameful, really, how familiar Molly had become with lying in the past few months, a flaw that didn’t speak well of her character. She should draw up a formula for cleansing her jaded soul. She would spend more time in the Word, of course. And—

“So it’s Garrett now, not Mr. Mitchell?” The other woman smiled craftily, her dark eyes warm and full of steely purpose.

Oh, Mrs. Singletary was a slick one. Unmistakable resolve was in her eyes now, just behind that matchmaker gleam. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I—”

“What is it you think I’m trying to do, dear?”

“You are attempting to help me find my one true love.”

“Am I?” The question sounded as smooth as cream wrapped inside the woman’s innocent tone.

“Mrs. Singletary, please, no more pretense.” Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. “You have made no secret of the fact that you believe every person has only one soul mate.”

“I do indeed believe that, yes,” she agreed without an ounce of remorse. “But in my observation, only a blessed few find one another on their own. Most couples need a nudge in the proper direction.”

Not Molly and Garrett, for one very simple reason. “We are not one another’s soul mate.”

“Do you deny having feelings for the man?”

“I’ve known him all my life,” she hedged, swiveling away and taking another turn around the room. “Of course I care about him. He’s the brother of my dearest friends.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Absorbing the fact that the older woman cared enough to want to see her happily settled, Molly stopped walking and closed her eyes. She adored Mrs. Singletary, truly she did, and was ever grateful to be in her employ. But this madness had to end.

“You are focusing your efforts in the wrong direction. Garrett and I will never be more than friends.”

Mrs. Singletary arched a brow. “You seem convinced. Is there more to the story you aren’t telling me?”

Oh, there was definitely more. But Garrett would be arriving any moment. Molly couldn’t risk him walking in during a retelling of their tumultuous past.

“Mrs. Singletary, I can’t...I’m not...” Think, Molly. There has to be a way to forestall her matchmaking attempts. “That is, I’m not ready to find my one true love.”

To her utter humiliation, tears welled in her eyes.

“Oh, my dear girl.” Mrs. Singletary set the cat on the floor and hurried over to pull Molly into her arms. “I’ve upset you.”

Molly wanted to push free of the widow’s hold. She wanted to claim she was fine, just fine.

But she wasn’t fine at all.

Her discussion with Fanny had reminded her of her own failures, of all her lost dreams and vanquished hopes.

She felt so terribly alone, exposed and raw. Vulnerable, even, as if God Himself had abandoned her.

Sensing Molly’s fragile state, Lady Macbeth rubbed against her leg, a purring, furry ribbon winding around the hem of her dress.

Still holding on tight, Mrs. Singletary gave her a little squeeze. “I would never push you into another romance if I didn’t believe you were ready.”

“I’m not ready.”

“Oh, but you are. You only need a little courage and a bit of faith. God has a distinct plan for your life, and I’m determined to see it come to pass.”

The tears in her eyes trickled to the edges of her lashes. She refused to let them fall. Not in the company of this woman, or anyone else.

It was her own fault she had to bear this secret pain in silence. She’d let everyone believe she’d been the one to break her engagements. As a result, even her own family feared she couldn’t follow through on a promise.

This, she decided, this lack of faith in her character was what came from telling lies. Lies born of pride.

“Molly.” Mrs. Singletary set her away from her. “As the Apostle Paul advises, we must strain toward the future, rather than dwell on the past.”

“I never look back.”

She braced for a lightning bolt, a crash of thunder, something to show God’s displeasure in her. She heard nothing but the incessant ticking of the clock. Slow, melodic, sounding very much like a name. Gar-rett. Gar-rett. Gar-rett.

How would she bear seeing him tonight? In his company her mind wanted to relive old regrets.

There had been moments this afternoon, when he’d stood so close and she’d caught his familiar scent, that she’d felt a spark of hope. The encounter had brought back memories, memories she’d shoved to the dark corners of her mind.

“I will ask you this only once, my dear, and then we won’t speak of it again.” Mrs. Singletary reached out and grasped both of her hands. “Are you absolutely certain you won’t have a problem with Mr. Mitchell working with me, here, in this home?”

“Of course not.” Determined to make her words come true, she added with more conviction, “You’ve chosen well. Garrett is the most capable man I know. He won’t let you down.”

It was the simple truth. Garrett met all of Molly’s criteria for a man of integrity, her formula deceptively simple. He had to be a devoted follower of the Lord, good at heart, brilliant of mind, authentic to the core.

“I would never wish for you to be unhappy.” The widow squeezed Molly’s hands. “I’ve grown quite fond of you.”

Molly smiled, really smiled. “And I you.”

“You would tell me if you were uneasy with this arrangement?”

“Absolutely.” She inwardly cringed, reminded yet again how quickly fibbing had become a part of her character. Thankfully, she was spared from further soul-searching when Mrs. Singletary’s manservant, Winston, entered the room.

Standing at attention, he made his announcement with a dignified flourish. “Mr. Garrett Mitchell has arrived.”

“Thank you, Winston.” Mrs. Singletary released Molly’s hands. “Please send him.”

He sketched a bow. “Very good, madam.”

The moment the butler turned, the clock began chiming the hour.

Of course Garrett would arrive on time. Trying not to sigh, Molly shut her eyes and battled a wave of emotion, only to open them again and find him striding across the ornate rug. He headed straight for her, his golden, tiger eyes unreadable in the dim light.

Trapped in the moment, she drank in the sight of him. He’d shaved recently, his face free of stubble now. He wore elegant evening attire, perfectly appropriate for a night at the opera. The pristine white of his starched shirt stood in stark contrast to the black of his tailored coat and vest.

Halfway across the room, his eyes captured hers. And held.

An unwelcome jolt of longing crawled up her spine and landed in the center of her heart.

Molly’s reaction was the same whenever he was near. Her mind raced. Her thoughts scrambled.

Her vision blurred.

This evening, she had no route of escape, no pressing matter awaiting her in another part of the house.

She was trapped, good and truly trapped.

Panic reared, morphed into a far more complicated emotion. Anticipation. Something different flickered in Garrett’s eyes tonight, something that spoke solely to her. Something she didn’t dare name.

The questions were there, too, questions about his sister’s situation. He wanted to know what Fanny had confessed to Molly in private.

He wasn’t going to like what she had to relay. But would he understand?

She briefly wondered if she could withhold the information from him, and decided the point was moot. If Garrett Mitchell wanted answers, he would get them. His resolve to help his sister was just that strong.

Because of that, Molly’s fondness for the man went up a notch, putting her heart at greater risk than ever before.