Fate's Intervention (38 page)

“
He seemed
adamant
about remaining in town until you agreed to go home with him, so what makes you think he
’
ll make that train?
”

“
Because I
’
ll be on it with him,
”
Matthew said and shoved a fork full of beans into his mouth.

“
You
’
re leaving?
”
Marcelle said, her own appetite suddenly gone.
“
But you just got back last night.
”
She tried hard not to sound whiny or clingy.
A
fter
all, a few kisses didn
’
t entitle her to lay claim to the man. He was still free to come and go as he pleased
, b
ut did that
pleasure
include returning? She couldn
’
t help but wonder.

“
It
’
s better that I go now. That way I can be back before the winter snows start,
”
he said
.
Marcelle
breathed
a quiet sigh of relief.

“
T
hink it will really take that long to sign some papers and turn the company over to your
brother?
”
Peter asked.

“
I wish I could explain things in detail, but I
’
m afraid there
’
s simply too much to go into.
Many
things are involved in transferring ownership. More than just signing over documents,
”
Matthew said.
“
A
nd
if I take care of those pesky little details now, then I won
’
t have to concern myself with them later, when I need to be concentrating on the foals that will certainly be due to arrive in the spring.
”

“
White Star taking to the mares okay, then?
”
Peter asked.

“
More like, they
’
ve taken to him just fine,
”
Matthew said, and Marcelle grinned at her
father
, remembering what he said about the woman selecting the man.
Obviously,
that theory applied to horses as well as people.

“
A
ny
way, if I
’
m not back in time to oversee their breeding, then there won
’
t be any foals to speak of come the spring,
”
Matthew said.

“
White Star is a big boy, Matthew,
”
Marcelle teased,
“
don
’
t you think he can manage without your assistance? I mean, I
’
ve been out there when he
’
s entertained the mares and he seemed quite capable then?
”

Peter coughed on his wine and Matthew on his roasted pork.

“
Was it something I said?
”
Marcelle asked, sipping on her wine, her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence.

Matthew wiped his mouth and laid down his linen napkin, the look on his face causing Marcelle to blush,
“
You know exactly what you just said, so you can wipe that
“
I don
’
t know
what I did
’
look off your face, you little tease.
”

Marcelle laughed and then reached over to pat her
father
on the back when he choked on his wine again at Matthew
’
s accusation.

“
Perhaps you
’
d best reconsider having wine with your meal,
Father
,
”
she said solicitously.

“
Perhaps you two could hold off antagonizing each other until I finish my wine,
”
Peter
breathed
, wiping his face.

Matthew smiled,
“
So
unds
reason
able, so what
’
s for dessert?
”

“
I
’
ll get it,
”
Marcelle said. She started to push away from the table, but didn
’
t get far before Matthew leapt to his feet and slid her chair back for her.
“
Thank
you. Would you like some custard and cream,
Father
?
”

“
Not for me, dearest,
”
he said and pushed his own chair back.
“
I think I
’
ll retire for the evening.
”

“
But aren
’
t you feeling better? You said you were, so why can
’
t you stay for a little while and enjoy a game of whist. Oh! We can
’
t play that because we
’
re short one person, but perhaps you can play chess with Matthew,
”
Marcelle said, knowing that she was rambling and probably sounded overly concerned as well, but she didn
’
t care. Her
father
had
said he was feeling great, but he was still retiring early. Did that mean he was having a relapse, or had he lied to her about his condition as he
’
d done before?

“
Relax
, dearest,
”
Peter smiled, patting his daughter on the hand.
“
I feel just fine. I just want to spend a little time reading before bed, and the best light for that is in my room.
”

“
A
re
you sure,
Father
?
”

“
Quite. Now,
”
he continued, turning to address Matthew,
“
when are you departing, Matthew?
”
He said. He laid his napkin down, and slid his chair back from the table.

“
It
’
ll be fairly early, sir,
”
Matthew said, standing as well.

“
The
n I
’
ll wish you a safe and eventful journey right now, since I won
’
t be up when you leave, no doubt.
”

“
Thank
you, Mr.
Weatherman
.
”

“
A
nd
I think it
’
s about time you called us by our given names, don
’
t you?
A
fter
all, we can
’
t stand too much on formality when you
’
ve done my daughter and me such a valued service, now can we?
”

“
It would be my
pleasure
, Peter. Marcelle.
”
Marcelle shivered as her name rolled off his tongue. She liked the way he said her name, and was glad her
father
had opened the doorway to informality between them.

“
A
nd
I do expect you to wire us upon your arrival, if you wouldn
’
t mind.
”

“
I
’
ll do that. I
’
ll also send a wire when I
’
m ready to head back.
”

“
That
would be nice,
”
Peter said, then placed a light kiss on Marcelle
’
s cheek.
“
You
’
ll see . . . ,
”

“
To
his food before I go to bed. Yes,
Father
,
”
Marcelle grinned and moved toward the serving table.

Peter nodded and walked to the entrance.
“
No shenanigans, you two,
”
he called without turning.

“
Father
!
”
Marcelle gasped, dropping a serving spoon full of custard.

“
Got you back, didn
’
t I?
”
He grinned over his shoulder and then strolled out of the room, the sound of Matthew
’
s laughter ringing in his ear.

“
Oh, that old curmudgeon,
”
Marcelle griped, grabbing a nearby rag. She knelt on the floor and quickly cleaned up the splattered custard.
“
I
’
m going to give him what for in the morning, to be certain. Imagine, saying something like that!
”

“
Oh, get down off your preaching pedestal, Marcelle,
”
Matthew laughed.
“
It
’
s not
as if
you don
’
t say things like that yourself to get a rise out of people. Where do you think you get it from? You
’
re exactly like the old man.
”

Marcelle smiled, replaced the dirty
washcloth
in the bucket of water near the kitchen
door,
and then returned to her chair at the dining table.
“
I know. It
’
s just that my comments are usually general statements. H
e aimed his comments direct at both of
us, as if something
would
happen. Didn
’
t that embarrass you in the least?
”

Matthew smiled in a way that made the color rise in her cheeks,
“
I
’
d say the man was
rather
astute.
”

“
What
’
s that supposed to mean?
”

“
It means that he may have been trying to embarrass you, but he knows full well that something is going to happen between us tonight,
”
Matthew said. He rose from his place at the
table and moved slowly in her direction, a gleam in his eye.

“
So
mething is?
”
Marcelle whispered, her eyes widening with each word Matthew spoke.

“
Yes, ma
’
am. You know, I should apologize for kissing you the way I did when I left,
”
Matthew said, taking a stunned Marcelle
’
s hand and drawing her up from her chair,
“
but I haven
’
t been able to get that kiss off my mind since the day I rode out of here.
”

That statement snapped Marcelle out of her bemused trance and she laughed,
“
A
nd
what a sight that was.
”

“
Oh, you saw me, did you?
”
Matthew said, drawing her into his embrace.
“
Well, I warned you that teasing me would make for an uncomfortable ride, and thanks to that kiss, that uncomfortable ride
was
a good three days
long.¨

“
Only three days? I couldn
’
t stop humming the entire week,
”
Marcelle blurted.

“
Really
?
”
Matthew
’
s brow raised and his grin increased.

Marcelle blushed when she realized how boldly she
’
d spoken, but she couldn
’
t seem to help herself with Matthew. He had a way of putting her at ease and all tangled up inside at the same time.

“
The
n you go and make that absurd comment at dinner about the horses.
”