Becoming a Lady (2 page)

Calvin had to give the woman some credit. Her establishment was clean, and the service was quick. “I thank you, Miss.” He grinned. “You service is very prompt. Here is another shilling for being so hasty.” He slid the coin on the table.

“Thank you kindly, milord.” She pocketed the money. “Now, what were you saying about finding someone?”

He had no plans of drinking the vile liquid, so he pushed it aside. “I’m looking for a certain woman, and the trail has led me here to New York.
In fact, to this very establishment.”

“Does this woman have a name?”

“Dorothy Paxton.”

Her eyes widened once again. “Pray, why would you be looking for her?”

“I’ve been sent to find her. Now, if you will, I would like some answers.”

She shrugged. “Forgive me, but I cannot help. I’ve never heard of her.”

Calvin couldn’t believe she was lying to him. “I beg to differ. Not more than ten minutes ago, I heard your brother call you Dorothy, and the other woman called you Miss Paxton.”

Dorothy rolled her eyes. “Perhaps you heard wrong. After all, Paxton does rhyme with…um…a lot of words.”

“And I suppose Dorothy rhymes with a lot of words as well.”

“You are correct.” She folded her arms. “Besides, why are you looking for her?”

He couldn’t stop the smile pulling on his mouth, so he smoothed his mustache with his finger and thumb. “Why are you so interested in knowing if you don’t know this woman?”

She shrugged. “I’m curious. You’re the first person who has wandered into town looking for someone I have never heard of.”

“I plan on staying here until I find some answers, too. So perhaps you should get used to me.”

“Perhaps.”
She arched an eyebrow. “What’s your name, stranger?”

He shook his head. “Hmm…I think that question is going to cost you.”

Her cheeks reddened and her gaze narrowed. He tried his best not to grin. Two could play her game.

“What is your price?” she finally asked.

Surprising, but the more he studied the woman’s face, the lovelier she became. Long, thick lashes outlined her striking blue eyes. And she had the prettiest shaped mouth he’d ever seen. One way or another, he had to earn her trust. He didn’t want to take her back to England fighting him the whole way. “I was thinking about dinner sometime.”

She chuckled. “Mister, I believe you can have dinner anytime you wish. All you have to do is order it, and I shall serve it promptly.”

He wanted to laugh, but refrained. What a refreshing sense of humor she had. He shook his head. “No, you misunderstand. I’d like to have dinner with you.”

She flipped her hand through the air. “
That,
you won’t ever get.”

He pulled away from the bar. “Then I suppose you don’t want to know my name badly enough, do you?”

Dorothy’s chest rose and fell from her deep breath. Silence stretched between them for several seconds before she blew out a gust of air between her lips. “Fine, I shall have dinner with you tonight. Now are you going to tell me your name, milord?”

Placing the hat on his head, he adjusted it low over his forehead and stood. “I am Mr. Calvin Seton. I am the third son of an earl, so you need not refer to me as
my lord
.”

“Are you indeed from England?”

“Yes.
Surrey, to be exact.”
He winked. “I trust you will be ready tonight by seven o’clock?”

She rolled her eyes. “If I must, I suppose I shall be ready by then.”

Although she tried to speak politely, Calvin heard the sarcasm in her speech. He gave her a grin, grabbed his hat and turned away, and left the inn.

Chapter Two

Numbness crawled over Dorothy, leaving her mind frozen with fear. There could only be one reason a man from England would come to New York to find her.

Grandfather—the dirty rotten bugger who had been ashamed that his son had sired an illegitimate daughter!

Mother had told her all about Lord George Whitley, whom she’d fallen hopelessly in love with. Lord George had been a sailor—a smuggler, to be precise. Dorothy’s mother had fallen in love fast, and from the way she told the story, Lord George had returned the feeling. Yet he had left on the next tide, not even leaving Dorothy’s pregnant mother a shilling to help bring Dorothy into the world.

Five years later, Dorothy’s mother tried to contact Lord George’s father, the Duke of
Longdale
, to see if the duke would spare some coins to help Dorothy through school.
Longdale
wouldn’t have anything to do with the
rubbish schemers
—as he’d referred to Dorothy and her mother. Old
Dukie
Longdale
would rather not have his reputation soiled by owning up to his son’s mistake.

In Dorothy’s twenty-two years, she had hoped to never see an uppity British man again, but her wishes went unheard when Calvin Seton entered her inn. She’d never come across a man like him. Not only was he a very handsome man with fine manners, but his smooth-as-silk British accent had her knees buckling a time or two. Serving the miscreants of New York didn’t give her many chances to meet gentlemen, and now she wished she’d never struck up a conversation with Calvin Seton.

The headstrong, stubborn part of her wanted to tell him to leave her sight and never return, but the lonely woman buried deep inside wanted to outfit
herself
in a gown, do her hair fancy, and strut around the streets of New York on his arm. And to be sure, that man had an arm worthy for a woman to hang on. His whole body fitted nicely in his clothes, and his shoulders…

Dorothy held in a dreamy sigh. It was a good thing the stubborn side of her would win this mental argument, and not let her daydreaming side take over. That man was probably just like Lord George. All he wanted from a working class woman was to have his wicked way with her.

That
was definitely something Dorothy did not allow any man to do. She would only allow her future husband to touch her in any intimate way. Even though Mr. Seton had placed curious thoughts in her head of what it might feel like to be held and kissed by such a vigorous man, Dorothy was
not
going to repeat history! Her mother would be turning over in her grave if she knew Dorothy harbored such improper ideas about the man from England.

“Dorothy? Are you daydreaming again?”

The sound of her brother’s voice pulled her back to her surroundings. Blinking out of her thoughts, she turned toward her half-brother—the only
real
family she had left now. Although they each had different fathers, she and Jeremy looked enough alike to be twins. The only difference between them was their eye color—and years, of course. She offered a smile, forced as it was. “I’m not daydreaming.”

Twenty-one-year old Jeremy nodded in the direction of the doors and arched his over-protective, brotherly eyebrow. “Who was the gent that just left?” he asked before coughing into his hand.

She shrugged and straightened the chair behind a table. “He says he’s from Surrey, England. His name is Mr. Calvin Seton, but he doesn’t mean a thing to me.”

Jeremy studied her warily, stepping closer to her. “He doesn’t, you say? Then pray, why has he made you so bothered?”

“Ha!” She stomped her foot. “I am
not
hot and bothered!”

Jeremy’s eyes widened before he threw back his head and laughed—which brought on a longer fit of coughs. When he was able to breathe better, he said, “Oh, sister dear, I didn’t say you were
hot
and bothered.
Just bothered.”

Not very often did Dorothy become embarrassed, so when heat climbed up her neck to her cheeks, she growled and turned away from him, marching into the kitchen. Looking for something to keep her mind occupied, she picked up a bottle of whiskey and hurried out to serve her customers. Grumbling, she marched to a table of men and refilled their drinks. Her brother’s laugh—and coughing—still rang through the busy room, upsetting her that much more.

Hot and bothered, my eye!
Mr. Calvin Seton did nothing but infuriate her. The cocky man had the nerve to play her mind game—and he played it well. She didn’t like that, even if he had made her heart pump faster. Huffing, she turned away from the table and moved to the next group of men to refill their cups.

When she saw Mr. Fancy Breeches tonight, she would certainly give him a piece of her mind. She supposed women in England did not speak their minds—even if they had them. So Seton would definitely not be prepared for Dorothy’s bold personality.

She stopped midway through pouring a drink as an idea struck her. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? She would scare the man away. That’s what she’d do! He for certain didn’t cross paths with women like her, and the uppity son of an earl would not know how to react. He’d become all flustered and leave.

Grinning widely, she nodded. Yes, that is what she would do. He’d be sorry he even stepped foot in her inn.

“Dorothy, what has come over you?” Jeremy asked as he grasped her elbow and swung her around to face him.

It took her a second to think about what she was doing, besides plotting, that is. “I’m um—” she glanced at the bottle in her hand— “I’m serving drinks. What does it look like I’m doing?”

Jeremy folded his arms and frowned, concern dulled his eyes. “Have you realized you’re giving away our best bottle of whiskey? You’re pouring it in everyone’s cups, and they haven’t paid for it,” he whispered.

Shock hit her like a bucket of cold water. She hitched a breath and glanced at the ones she’d just served. True to her brother’s word, her patrons had confusion written on their drunken faces—and that wasn’t easy to do in this part of town.

Groaning, she threaded her fingers through her unmanageable hair that started out this morning in a tight bun, but now barely hung together at her nape. “This is not good.”

Jeremy wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her away from the tables. “I think you’ve had enough today. Let me take over.”

She pushed his arm away and glared. “You don’t need to take over. Your coughing has weakened you, so I think I should be the one to close for the night.”

“Dorothy,” he warned, “
do
not argue with me. Yes, I’m tired, but I’m all right. You, on the other hand—”

“I can handle anything you put in front of me,” she snapped, interrupting. “Didn’t you see the way I dealt with Slater?”

He arched an eyebrow. “I thought Mr. Seton
handled
Mr. Slater.”

“Oh, posh!
Mr. Seton was just in my way. I would have dealt with Slater with or without the British man’s help.”

“Nevertheless, something is eating at you and I want to know what it is.”

She opened her mouth to tell him about the stranger who disturbed her, but her mind halted her thoughts. She didn’t know for sure if her grandfather had sent Mr. Seton—she was just assuming. So until she knew what the gentleman wanted, how could she say anything to her brother? Besides, she shouldn’t worry him needlessly. He had enough problems as it was with his declining health.

“Not to worry, brother dear,” she told him and lovingly patted his cheek. Goodness, he looked paler than before. “I’m fine now.” To prove it, she straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and walked to check on another table.

Jeremy gave up arguing with her, which he usually did, and sat by some of his friends. A frown claimed her face as she studied her sickly brother. No physician could tell them what was wrong or why Jeremy grew weaker by the day. They couldn’t afford a real doctor, so they had to settle for the pathetic ones who didn’t have a practice any longer.

The day moved in a slow pace and soon evening was upon them. It was all she could do to keep busy and not think of the very handsome Mr. Seton.
Calvin
, she thought dreamily. As much as the feminine side of her wanted to hurry home, bathe in the hip-tub, and adorn
herself
in a lovely dress, her stubborn side reminded her of her goal.

Scare the British man back to England.

There was only one way she could do that, and it was to be
herself
. After all, her hoyden personality frightened most men away who considered courting her. Why not Mr. Seton?

Time seemed to stand still, and she kept her eyes on the front door. When Mr. Seton finally walked in, she nearly lost her breath. He was dressed in different clothes, although they were still expensive and very clean. The grey color of his over-jacket and waistcoat looked good on him. And once again, the style of jacket made his shoulders appear wider than she’d first thought. Even his brown hair seemed darker than before. Or had it been this color earlier? She’d been too busy admiring his shoulders, and his mesmerizing green eyes.

He kept his gaze locked on hers as he strode towards her. With every step he took, her heart quickened.

Swallowing the lump of interest in her throat, she waited until he stood in front of her before speaking.

“Good evening,” he said in a voice as smooth as silk.

“Drat. I had hoped you were just jesting about wanting to take me to dinner tonight.”