Newton (Prairie Grooms Book 9) (12 page)

“What? Why not?”

Arya shook her head and took a few steps back. “I do not want to meet them.”

“Darling, if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here and we wouldn’t be together.”

Well, when he put it that way … “All right.” But she suddenly felt very shy at the thought of meeting such people. No, not just shy – very
small
. She didn’t like that feeling.

A
rya was waiting
for Newton to drag her down the steps, and it surprised her when he didn’t. Instead he moved to the middle of the mercantile porch, putting them in the duke’s direct line of vision. Was he waiting for the man to give him permission to approach? If they were with her people, that’s how it would be done. But these were not her people, and none of them displayed the courtesy given to royalty. Instead they treated this man and woman like they were simply family.

Mrs. Upton was right – the townspeople were excited to see the pair because they truly cared about them. The backslapping, hand-shaking, hugs and kisses were proof enough of that. Maybe she shouldn’t be so worried after all. In her mind, she’d conjured a great chasm between she, Newton and the duke and duchess.

“All right, darling,” Newton said, “things seem to be calming down a bit. Let’s go.” He led her through the crowd until they were standing in front of the couple.

Duncan looked at Newton and smiled. “Why, if it isn’t Mr. Whitman! So glad to see you!” He turned to Arya, and it was all she could do to stand her ground. “And who is this?”

Arya nervously touched the loose knot of hair at the back of her head, which had become looser as the day wore on. Wisps of hair were falling around her face and covering her ears. She blushed at the thought of how she must look.

“May I present my wife?” Newton said. “Your Grace, this is Arya.”

“Arya?” Duncan repeated. “And where do you hail from?”

Her eyes grew wide, and again she fought the urge to retreat. Duncan Cooke had a powerful presence. She quickly glanced at his wife who, though no bigger than Arya herself, seemed to possess the same air of power.

“I’m afraid she’s a little nervous with new people,” Newton explained. “And her English isn’t as good as yours or mine, though it’s excellent for the amount of time she’s spent learning the language.”

“Oh?” Duncan said.

“She was raised by Injuns,” came a voice from the crowd. Arya suspected it was Fanny Fig.

Duncan looked her up and down, as did his wife. “Indians?” she repeated, in an accent that reminded Arya of some French trappers she’d once met. “My, my – you and I will definitely need to have a chat,
ma cherie
. It seems I need to catch up on a few things.”

Newton smiled. “Yes, Your Grace. I’d say there are a few.”

Arya continued to study the couple as Cyrus Van Cleet approached. “Duncan! Cozette! Land sakes, but it’s good to see you!” He gave each of them a hug. “Polly will be so excited!”

“Right now I’ll be excited to see a hot bath and a bed,” Duncan replied. “Do you have any rooms available at the hotel, Cyrus?”

“Yes, of course – I have a room all ready. Had it made up the moment I heard you were coming … just in case.”

“Thank you,” he said. “This late in the day, I don’t want to travel out to the ranch and force the women to fuss preparing us a room and all that.”

“You know they wouldn’t mind,” Cyrus said. “But then, I don’t mind having you at my hotel either. Now I can say I had a real duke and duchess stay there! It’ll be great for business later on.”

Duncan laughed and slapped the wiry man on the back. “Maybe I’ll leave you something as a souvenir to commemorate our stay. You can hang it in the lobby.”

The townspeople joined Cyrus as he chuckled with delight. “Suits me fine, Duncan! Now come along – I’ll show you to your room.”

“Thank you for the warm welcome, everyone!” Duncan called to the crowd. “But as you can imagine, Cozette and I have had a very long journey and would like to get some rest.”

“Do you want me to ride out to the Triple-C and let your brothers know you’re here?” Sheriff Hughes asked.

“No, Harlan, I’d rather go out in the morning and surprise them if you don’t mind,” Duncan said. “Did you hear that, everyone?”

The crowd laughed.

“Harrison’s gonna bust a gut!” Grandma said.

“That’s not all he’ll bust if my guess is right,” Duncan said. “If I show up now, Belle and Sadie will get nothing done, supper will be terribly late and no one will get any sleep. Tomorrow is better.”

“Then follow me,” said Cyrus. “Let’s get you and Cozette settled. Mrs. Upton can bring some supper up to your room, or you can dine with young Mr. Whitman and his wife here. They’re staying at the hotel as well.”

Duncan turned to Newton and Arya. “Now there’s an idea,” he agreed. “What say you, Whitman? Care to dine with us tonight?”

Arya watched Newton’s face go from shock to relief. “By all means, we’d love to join you. Right, Arya?”

She glanced between her husband and the duke, then nodded, unable to speak. What could she say? She hoped she didn’t become this tongue-tied during their meal. How embarrassing would that be?

Newton pulled her aside to let Duncan and his wife past, then fell into step behind them as the crowd dissipated. Some went back to work, while others followed the parade to the hotel.

When they got there, Arya watched Mr. Van Cleet take out a big book and set it on the front counter. “If you’ll just sign the register, please.” He dipped a pen in some ink and handed it to him.

“Cyrus, the names in your register … is this everyone who’s stayed here?” Duncan asked.

“Yes, sir, it is. I know it isn’t much, but …”

“No, it’s fine. I was just curious.” Duncan scribbled in the big book, handed the pen back, then turned to his wife. “Well, my dear, are you ready to go upstairs?”

“Yes, very.” She faced Arya. “I look forward to seeing you later.”

Arya forced a smile and nodded.

“What time for dinner?” Duncan asked as he pulled out a pocket watch. “Eight o’clock?”

Newton nodded. “Of course.”

Duncan gave him a curt nod, offered his arm to his wife, then followed Mr. Van Cleet up the stairs.

As soon as they disappeared down the hall, Newton blew out the breath he was holding.

Arya studied him. “What is wrong?”

“We’re having dinner with the duke and duchess.”

“That is your fault.”

He turned to her. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

“Isn’t it? They are not like us, they … everyone will want to see them. We should not get in the way.”

Newton sighed and smiled at the same time. “Ah, so we both seem to be having a case of nerves.”

“He’s still the same Duncan.” Newton and Arya turned to the counter, where Seth had taken up his post and was putting the big book away. “Just like he was when he left Clear Creek.”

“He’s a good man,” Newton stated.

“Just like his brothers. Of the three, though, he’s the natural born leader. And Colin and Harrison know it – that’s why he’s the duke instead of either of them.”

“I understand,” Newton said. He took Arya’s hand. “Come, darling. Let’s go upstairs and rest a bit. Looks like we’ll be dining a little later than usual.”

Arya smiled half-heartedly. If she had her way, they wouldn’t be dining with the duke and duchess at all.

A
rya was
as nervous as a doe surrounded by wolves.

Newton sat on the settee in their room and watched her fuss with her dress, her hair, her … everything. “Darling, if you don’t stop that confounded flitting about, you’re going to forget something.”

“You!” she said, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You are the one who said yes!”

He got up and crossed the room to her. “Arya, why are you afraid of
them
?”

She stopped brushing her hair and stared at the floor. “I … I do not know.”

“Sweetheart, they’re not going to bite.”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide. “Bite?” she said in alarm.

“Yes, bite. They won’t. They’re no different than we are. I was nervous too when I first met them, but not anymore.”

“You are never nervous.”

“You’d be surprised, my dear. Now stop fidgeting. You look wonderful.”

“My hair is not like your women’s.”

Newton studied her. She’d brushed her long, dark-reddish locks until they practically shimmered. “No, but it’s exactly as it should be. Let me have a go at it, shall I?”

Arya clutched the brush to her chest. “You?”

“How hard can it be?” Perhaps the terrified look on his wife’s face should have been answer enough, but Newton wasn’t going to back down from a challenge. He poked her in the ribs with a finger, making her giggle and drop the brush. “Aha!” he cried and snatched it up from the floor.

“That … that … I do not know a word!”

“Not fair?”

“Not fair!”

Newton chuckled as he took her by the hand and led her to a chair. “Sit and let me work on this.”

“But you don’t know what to do.”

“Neither do you. And don’t think to call on Eloise for help. As I understand it, she and Seth were going to August and Penelope’s for supper. We’re on our own as far as your coiffure is concerned.”

Arya stared straight ahead, a terrified look on her face. “They will laugh at me.”

“They will love you. And if they don’t, they’ll have to contend with me. Now hold still – I’ve never done this sort of thing before.” He ran the brush through her hair a few times, twisted it up and wrapped it around her head. “No, that doesn’t seem right …”

Arya groaned.

“Right. Let me try something else.”

This time she cringed and shut her eyes tight.

“Grimacing won’t help,” he said.

“It helps me.”

He laughed. “But not me, darling.”

Arya giggled.

He bent her head back, leaned down and kissed her. “Trust me.”

She smiled at him. “Show me what you can do.”

So he did, between kisses and laughter. After another thirty minutes and the use of every hairpin Eloise had given Arya, he’d styled her hair into what he thought was rather nice.

Arya studied herself in a mirror. He’d parted her hair down the middle, twisted it into a loose knot at the nape of her neck and pinned it into place. Ironically, it looked much like it did before they came up to their room, only not as messy. He did, however, widen the knot, thus the need for all the pins. She smiled at his efforts and stood. “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome. Now we’d best get downstairs. It’s almost eight.” He straightened his own hair, gave his vest a tug, then put on his jacket. It was time to join the duke and duchess for dinner.

D
uncan and Cozette
were already seated when Newton and Arya arrived. Duncan stood at their approach and gave them a slight bow. Newton returned the action. “Your Grace, how nice to see you again.”

“Have a seat,” Duncan said, waving at the two unclaimed chairs. “I can’t wait to hear what’s happened since your arrival in Clear Creek.”

“Quite a lot, actually,” Newton said as he pulled out a chair for Arya. Once she was seated, he did the same. “In fact, more than I know how to convey.”

“Is that so?” Duncan said as he also took his seat.

“I want to hear about your wife,” Cozette added, then turned to Arya. “I love your hair. It is very pretty.”

Newton tried not to smirk in triumph. “Yes, it’s quite lovely this evening, isn’t it?” Arya rolled her eyes and bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“Your wife seems to have adopted our ways quite well,” Duncan commented. “Cyrus tells me she’s an extremely fast learner.”

“That she is. Susara Kincaid has been kind enough to work with her this past month. Some of the other townsfolk have helped as well. I’m very grateful.”

Cozette leaned forward in her chair and smiled at Arya. “I have had to learn so many things since leaving Clear Creek and going to London. We shall have to tell each other of our experiences.”

Arya swallowed hard and glanced furtively at Newton.

“It’s all right, darling. She said she wants to visit with you.” He looked at Cozette across the table. “I’m afraid when she gets nervous, she has a harder time understanding what a person is saying.”

“As it was for me,” she said. “I would have trouble speaking. My words wouldn’t come out right.”

“For many years, actually,” Duncan said seriously. “I think Cozette could teach Arya a few things. Why don’t the two of you have tea tomorrow?”

“A good suggestion,” Cozette agreed. “I look forward to it.”

Arya smiled tentatively. “I … would like that.”

“There, you see, she understood,” Duncan said. “I think you two ladies will get along fine. Now, tell me how the two of you met.”

Newton took a deep breath to brace himself, then told the duke and duchess of his adventures since coming to Clear Creek, of his fascination with the prairie, forest and mountains, of his hunting expeditions with Seth and Ryder. Then he got to the Indians and how he’d first met Arya.

“We were sitting in a circle with the chief – Seth, Ryder, several of their warriors and myself. The chief made some sort of hand signal to two women standing nearby. They left for a few moments … and when they came back Arya was with them. I remember the men getting into a heated discussion in their own language, which of course I couldn’t understand. But Arya could, and she looked terrified.

“What were they saying?” Duncan asked her, intrigued.

Arya looked around the table. “They were discussing who I was to marry.”

Duncan glanced at his wife and back. “Really? Fascinating. Were some of the other warriors vying for your hand?”

Arya shook her head. “I do not understand.”

“He means, had any of the other men already asked the chief to marry you?” Newton clarified.

“No,” she said, then looked at the table.

Before anyone else could comment, Mrs. Upton brought the first course, making a beeline for Duncan. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you both!” she announced. “Why, just wait until Edith and Mary Beth find out you’ve arrived!”

“Let’s not tell them right away,” Duncan said. “I’ll be at the Triple-C tomorrow and would like to spend a few days with my family.”

“You’ll get to see Edith, then. You know she married your stepfather.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“And Mary Beth married Harvey Brown!”

Duncan’s jaw dropped. “What? Now there’s news! I don’t recall being informed of that.”

Mrs. Upton smiled. “Well, you know now, honey!”