Cinderfella (27 page)

Felicity and Tavish. It was unthinkable, preposterous, and the most scandalous disgrace of Charmaine's life. She tried to remember Tavish clearly, to remember more than the fact that he was an incredibly tall man with red hair, but she'd never so much as carried on a conversation with the man.

Felicity had, though. Several mornings Charmaine had seen her sister walking in the garden with Tavish, pointing at this rosebush or that, gesturing gracefully at a bed of flowers. He had walked beside her, hands clasped behind his back, head bent to hear her words clearly.

She now doubted their conversation had anything to do with roses and flower beds.

Felicity was usually so practical, it made no sense, no sense at all. . . . Charmaine rested her gaze on the stoic profile of her husband. Unless Tavish had turned Felicity's world upside down, as Ash had hers. Unless she found such comfort and joy in his touch that nothing else mattered. Unless she loved him.

Charmaine knew now that what Felicity and Howard had found in their marriage was not love. There had been caring there, at one time perhaps, a mutual respect . . . but not love. She couldn't imagine sending Ash off to his own room at night, sleeping alone when she could be nestled in his arms. Purity and chastity were all well and good, but there was a spiritual core to her love for Ash that was as pure as anything she'd ever known.

If Felicity had found that with Tavish, how could Charmaine denounce it? How could she stand at Howard's side and condemn her own sister?

Yesterday's shock aside, she knew she couldn't do it. At the family dinner tomorrow she'd pull Howard aside and tell him that she couldn't go back to Boston, that her place was here with Ash.

And when Ash's anger faded, as it surely would, she would tell him how much she loved him. He didn't love her, of course, so it would be difficult to say the words. But with time, he would come to love her. Of that she was certain.

 

“How am I supposed to sleep with that man under my roof?” Stuart whispered huskily as he paced before the moonlit window. “He must have done something to Felicity to make her behave in such an irresponsible manner. She's always been an honest, reliable girl, and she would never do anything so . . . so dishonorable without a damn good reason.”

Maureen was propped up on a number of fat pillows, her thick braid falling over one shoulder, her hands folded primly on her lap. She wasn't sure what distressed her husband more, the news that his married daughter had run off with another man, or the fact that Howard Stillwell slept just down the hall.

“Let's reserve judgment until we hear from Felicity,” she said calmly. “And as for Howard, well, he'll be gone in a few days.”

“Taking Charmaine with him,” Stuart whispered. “He says it's temporary, but I don't believe it. She'll get to Boston and its seminars and social life, and she won't come back.”

Maureen smiled. Her husband was loving and passionate and protective, but he was also occasionally blind. “I think Charmaine will have the good sense to change her mind before Thursday rolls around.”

Stuart snorted softly.

“And if she doesn't, do you really think Ash will allow her to go?”

Stuart made his way to the edge of the bed. “Allow her? This is Charmaine we're talking about.”

“A very
changed
Charmaine,” she said as she took his hand. “You haven't been paying attention to the tempering of your youngest daughter.”

He sat beside her with a heavy sigh. “I haven't seen her enough lately to know if she's changed or not. She's been avoiding me since the wedding. I guess she still hasn't forgiven me for making her marry Ash.”

“Oh, I think she's forgiven you,” Maureen whispered.

Stuart shook his head slowly.

“You'll see,” she said, stroking the top of Stuart's hand. “Tomorrow.”

“I don't think so.”

“Come to bed.” Maureen patted a waiting pillow. “I need my rest, you know, and I can't sleep without you beside me.”

He obliged, crawling into the bed and taking her in his arms. “There now. I didn't mean to keep you awake so late. I'm sorry.”

She nuzzled her head against his shoulder, finding that perfect fit. “I think we should tell the children tomorrow, while we have Jeanette and Charmaine together.”

“Whatever you want,” he whispered, and then he kissed the top of her head.

 

Ash looked wonderfully handsome in his gray suit, with his hair neatly trimmed and his face freshly shaven. If only he would smile.

They walked from church to the house, the lot of them. Jane was at the forefront, her steps quick as she hurried to the house and her kitchen. Charmaine's father and mother walked at a leisurely pace behind her, side by side and step for step. The distance between Jane and the Haleys steadily increased.

Howard and Jeanette were a few steps behind Stuart and Maureen Haley, their heads together in a conspiratorial fashion. Jeanette looked marvelous in her strawberry dress and matching hat, and Howard had donned a somber brown suit that he often wore for his lectures.

Charmaine purposely slowed her pace and slipped her arm through Ash's. For the next couple of hours, they'd be surrounded by her family and she wouldn't have so much as a private word with her husband. How could she have even considered going to Boston for two weeks!

“They're not so bad, you know,” she whispered when Howard and Jeanette were well ahead of them and could not hear.

“Who's not so bad?” Ash's voice was low and lifeless.

“My family,” she said with a forced smile. “Mother and Daddy, Jeanette and Howard. They just take some getting used to, that's all.”

He didn't respond, and goodness, he always grabbed any opportunity to insult her father.

“You're still pouting, aren't you?” she accused softly.

“I am not pouting.” At least he finally looked squarely at her as he defended himself.

“Call it what you will. . . . ”

He came to an abrupt stop and faced her fully, glaring down at her. “I'm here, heading to Sunday dinner with four people who'd just as soon shoot me as feed me.”

“That's not —”

“I'll probably have to eat in the barn, being a
sodbuster
and all.”

“Ash, don't be —”

“I'm here, but don't expect me to be happy about it, all right?”

He took her arm and resumed the trek to the house. “Well,” she said primly. “You're being so difficult I shouldn't even tell you that I decided not to go to Boston with Howard after all.”

She expected him to be happy about the announcement, but if he was pleased at all he hid it well. “Don't stay on my account.”

“I most certainly am
not
staying on your account, Ash Coleman.” It was a lie, but she wouldn't grovel in front of any man, not even her husband. “I simply feel it would be inappropriate to so publicly support Howard. Felicity is my sister, after all, no matter what foolishness she's done.”

“Whatever you want,” he said in a low voice she had to strain to hear.

Everyone else had gone inside by the time Ash and Charmaine reached the front porch. They hesitated before the closed door, arm in arm still. He
could
lean down and kiss her. He
could
tell her he was happy she wasn't going to Boston. He
could
whisper
I love you.

Instead of any of those pleasant options, he opened the door and led her inside.

 

* * *

 

“You can't mean it, Charmaine,” Howard said in disbelief. “I need you. I can't hold my head up in Boston after what Felicity's done to me, not without your staunch support.”

She'd managed to find a moment to pull Howard aside, asking him to join her in her father's study before dinner was served. Right off she'd told him she wasn't going to Boston, and she had expected a polite “I understand” in response. How mistaken she'd been.

“My place is here with Ash,” she insisted. “Besides that, I can't publicly denounce my own sister, and that seems to be what you have in mind.”

She'd never seen Howard so angry before. His fists balled at his sides, his eyes narrowed, and his face turned red. “She ran off with the
gardener!
”

“Are you angry because Felicity left you, or because she left with a servant? Goodness, Howard,” she said quickly, reading the answer in his eyes, chastising him even though her initial response had been much the same.

“Yes,” he said sharply, and with a stiff hand he slicked back his straight brown hair. She'd thought her sister's husband attractive enough in the past, if a bit small and sharp-featured. Right now he was downright ugly. “I'll admit it. Do you think I don't know my colleagues and friends are laughing behind my back? They're having a grand time with this scandal, I can assure you.”

“Some of them, perhaps,” she admitted. “The more shallow of your acquaintances.”

“
All
of them,” he insisted. “Every last one.”

He took a step toward her, and Charmaine nervously stepped back and toward the closed door.

“You must come back with me,” he said softly. “They won't laugh at me, then. We won't let them.” There was a glitter in his pale eyes she didn't like at all, a set to his mouth she didn't like at all. Howard was desperate, and he was determined not to leave her behind.

Charmaine was not one to easily admit defeat, but she recognized this as an argument she couldn't win. Not alone, in any case. Not now. With Ash beside her, Howard would have to accept her refusal. At the moment, her only objective was to get out of this room and away from Howard.

And she'd thought this would be easy.

“Let me think about it a bit more,” she said, moving easily toward the door. “I didn't realize how very. . . . ” Desperate wasn't a word she could use. ' . . . how very distraught you are over all this. Perhaps something can be arranged after all.”

She didn't hear the door swing open, but when she turned around Ash was standing there, his hand on the doorknob, his eyes pinned on her. He didn't look at all surprised.

“Splendid!” Howard said grandly. “I knew we could work something out.”

Charmaine kept her eyes on Ash. This was her chance to have this done with. In her heart she knew her husband wouldn't let her go. They could stand together and refuse Howard's unreasonable request here and now.

“Unless, of course, Ash objects. I hate to leave him on the farm all alone, he might need. . . . ”

“You do what you want,” he said lowly. “Dinner's ready.” And with that curt announcement, he spun around and walked away.

 

He'd rather be facedown in the pigsty again than sitting at Stuart Haley's dining room table with practically the entire clan. And to top it off they were all jabbering at once. Charmaine and Jeanette, sitting directly opposite Ash, had their fair heads together. Charmaine in her brilliant blue and Jeanette in her deep pink, they looked like two bright birds who would take off without warning and fly away. Their voices were soft, musical tones that drifted to him without clear meaning.

Neither of them had eaten much. How could they, unless they'd devised a way to eat and talk and be ladylike all at the same time? He imagined Felicity was a topic of conversation, as well as travel plans, but on occasion their eyes turned to him.

Maureen Haley, regal as always, was talking with Howard Stillwell, who sat at Ash's right. He did most of the talking, about the recent upheaval in his life. Ash could almost sympathize with the man, but he seemed more peeved than distressed, as if Felicity's departure were a great inconvenience.

Mrs. Haley did her best to comfort him, with soft words of consolation that struck Ash as slightly insincere.

Of course, Stuart Haley had to have his say, and his comments were directed first to Howard and then to his wife and on occasion to his daughters.

And then he looked Ash square in the eye. “Cattle,” Haley said with a knowing nod of his head. “That's what your place needs.”

He didn't want to have this conversation right now, but Haley was staring hard and waiting for a response. “I don't think so, sir.”

Haley grinned. “Sure it is! I'll start you off with a few head. Let's call it a wedding present.”

A wedding present? The man really was off his rocker. “No, thank you.”

Haley's smile faded. “No reason to get snippy.”

“Daddy, Ash wasn't snippy. You, however, are being your overbearing self once again.”

Charmaine had apparently been paying attention to everything, not just her conversation with Jeanette. Dammit, he didn't want her fighting his battles for him.

“But it makes perfect sense,” Haley said to Charmaine. “There's more money in beef than there is in wheat. I think about it and it just makes me sick, all that land, gone to waste.”

“My land doesn't go to waste,” Ash said through gritted teeth, and Haley turned his attention to this side of the table again.

“Sorry if you don't agree, son, but it makes no business sense at all for you to refuse a
gift
of several head of cattle. Independence is one thing. As a matter of fact I greatly admire independence. But bullheaded stubbornness is another thing altogether.”

“Maybe you should hold a gun to my head until I agree to take those cattle home with me.” The words were out of Ash's mouth before he thought, and they managed to silence the entire table. Charmaine's face went white, Maureen Haley pursed her lips, and Howard stared at the plate before him. Jeanette kicked him under the table.

“Why you. . . . ” Haley said, and with his hands on the table he started to rise.

Maureen put a stop to whatever Haley's intentions might have been. She stood quickly. “We have an announcement.”