Promise me tomorrow (12 page)

"Oh, it's so good. Would you like some?"

"No, thank you." He had to hide his laughter. She was so used to taking care of people that she had a hard time eating in front of him.

Misunderstanding his look, Rusty felt embarrassed. She had disrupted his whole morning.

"I'll stop talking now. I've kept you from your work long enough."

"That's not a problem, Katherine. I'm just glad you're feeling better. In fact, it's probably me who should leave you so you can eat. If you need anything I'll be in my office, and if I'm not there, someone on the staff is usually pretty close at hand. Ask for anything you like."

"Thank you," Rusty replied, studying her host. From where she was sitting, he looked very tall as he made his way through the drawing room and into his office, leaving the double doors open as he took a seat behind his desk. His desk looked directly out onto the drawing room, but he kept his eyes on his work. Rusty watched him for just a moment and then let her own eyes wander the wonderful room again.

It was so lovely, decorated in all shades of green and peach. Someone had excellent taste. Probably Mrs. McCandles, but even as the thought came, Rusty somehow knew there wasn't a Mrs. McCandles—at least not now. Mrs. Whitley would not be handling everything if there were. Rusty reminded herself that it was none of her business and went back to her inspection of the room.

The bay window Chase had referred to earlier was the focal point. With floor-to-ceiling panes of glass and a span of at least 12 feet, it let in the sun in a most glorious manner. Most of the furniture was centered around it.

Rusty's chair was one of four in matching fabric. Her chair and one other flanked a long sofa in a leaf green shade. The other two chairs sat with their backs to the window. Ottomans sat before each overstuffed chair, but before the davenport was a large coffee table, fashioned in a dark wood Rusty guessed to be mahogany. A large fireplace covered one interior wall and numerous bookshelves and plant stands were perfectly placed. Only a room as spacious as this one could get away with so many large pieces.

Throughout her inspection Rusty continued to eat. Until she tasted the muffin, she hadn't realized the extent of her hunger. It also helped that the food was delicious. Eating all she could and drinking two cups of chocolate, she then wanted to laugh at herself when a yawn escaped.

You 're just like a baby, Rusty. Give you a little
food, and you 're ready for a nap.

Rusty's scolding didn't work. Still tired and wrapped in the warm quilt, her stomach nicely filled, she felt her eyes droop. Asking herself why she should fight it, she let her head rest against the back of the chair. She was asleep within ten minutes.

In the office, Chase had forced himself not to look out at Rusty. When he did, she was sound asleep. He had planned to check on her later, but when he saw she was sleeping, he kept his seat. Even so, it was some time before Chase was able to return to his work.

13

"Miss Taggart?" Rusty heard the calling of her name mere moments after she opened her eyes. She looked toward the sound and saw Mrs. Whitley standing nearby. "Does a hot bath sound good to you, dear?"

Rusty smiled at her. "A hot bath sounds heavenly."

"I thought it might. If you'll just come with me.

Rusty rose, noting as she did that the food tray and table were gone. She picked up the quilt that had been lying over her, ignoring Mrs. Whitley's claim that someone would see to it. Rusty folded it neady and laid it across the arm of the chair. She then turned to follow Briarly's housekeeper.

Mrs. Whitley led the way up one flight of stairs and then a shorter set of stairs that took them up a half level. There were several rooms in this part of the mansion, one of which was an elaborate bathing chamber. Rusty's parents had had an indoor bath for many years, but it didn't compare with the lovely fittings of this room. Neither did her parents' bathroom have its own boiler that produced a hot bath at the turn of a spigot.

"Now then, dear, I'll just start this running for you and explain to you how it works. I'll slip into your room and find fresh clothing for you. The door does not lock, but I assure you no one will bother you since it will be closed."

"Thank you," Rusty said calmly enough, but when the older woman exited, she removed her clothing as swiftly as she could, embarrassed at the thought of being caught standing at the side of the tub in the altogether. The tub wasn't full yet, but Rusty got in nevertheless. She then learned there was no need to hurry. Mrs. Whitley did not rush back. An array of soaps and bathing bubbles occupied a low shelf above the tub. By the time Mrs. Whitley did slip back in with Rusty's things, the young woman was surrounded by suds, her hair lathered, and the water so full of bubbles that she couldn't even see her feet. Adjusting the hot and cold to suit her desire, she spent a delightful hour immersed, the aches floating out of her body with blessed relief.

***

When Rusty finally left the bathroom, she felt she'd been given a new lease on life. Dressed in her pale lavender day dress with deep violet cording, Rusty went down the half-stairs to the landing with the main bedrooms. There were not many for such a large home, but hers was lovely. She walked across the threshold, not at all surprised to find it in perfect order. Even her clothing, pressed and cleaned, was hung in the wardrobe. She sat on a chair by the fireplace, noting absently that fireplaces seemed to be all over the mansion.

I
don't know if I should stay here, Lord. I feel well enough to travel I know I could go home tomorrow, but what does all of that do to Mr.
McCandles' schedule? 
There being no forthcoming answer, Rusty sat for a time in her room and thought about what she should do. She was still sitting, her hair drying in a riot of curls around her face and down her back, when Chase ran her to earth.

"Wool gathering?" he asked from the doorway.

"No, just glad to feel so much better." She came to her feet. "In fact, I'm trying to decide if I should leave tomorrow or not."

Chase nodded, his face impassive. "Lunch is served. Maybe talking it over and having a little something to eat will help you decide."

"Maybe it will. Thank you," Rusty acknowledged graciously. Having come to the doorway, she preceded him to the landing and down the stairs. Once they were at the bottom, Chase directed her through the first door they came to. The dining room was almost as large as the drawing room. Rusty was again impressed with the lovely furnishings. French doors opened onto a large veranda. The doors were flanked by china cabinets in the same wood as the table. On another wall was a fireplace. A doorway to one side looked as if it led back to the drawing room.

"How is this?" Chase asked as he held a chair for his guest.

"Thank you," she said as she sat, smoothing her skirt as she looked down the length of the table. They were at one end of a solid cherry dining table that sat 20, or rather Chase was at its end. Rusty was around the corner from him. The moment Chase sat down, a salad was placed in front of Rusty. She looked up to thank the young waiter at her elbow and found his eyes on her, his mouth slightly open.

"Thank you," she said softly, but he only stood and stared.

"Did you have a salad for me, Rick?" Chase asked quietly, a note of humor in his voice.

"Oh, yes, sir." Rick moved to do the honors, but it was as if he were in slow motion, his eyes on Rusty as he served Chase. Nothing more was said on the matter. Chase waited for Rick to move from the room and then bowed his head. Rusty followed suit.

"Thank You for this food, Lord. Bless us this day. Amen."

Rusty raised her head, reached for her napkin, and picked up the first of several forks, one thought on her mind:
If this is what lunch is like, I might not have a suitable dress for dinner.

"I'm sorry about Rick's behavior. He's young."

"I take it you don't have guests often."

"Not that look like you."

Rusty finished the bite of salad in her mouth but didn't reach for more.

"What did you mean by that?"

Chase looked at her. She was not upset, just curious. He decided to be rude and answer her question with a question.

"Do you not find yourself attractive, Katherine?"

Rusty blinked. "What has that got to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with it. That's the reason Rick stared at you," he informed her calmly. "He's Mrs. Whitley's son, by the way."

Rusty looked over at the door where the young man had disappeared and then back to Chase. He had stopped eating as well and now stared at her. Rusty felt the most incredible rush of emotions. It had almost sounded as though he was complimenting her, but there had been nothing warm or personal about his tone or expression. Rusty wondered why that bothered her. But then understanding hit her.

"Should I apologize to Rick?" Her eyes were rather large.

"For what?" Chase asked in genuine confusion.

"For acting inappropriately."

Chase was stunned. "Katherine, what did I say that made you think your actions were out of order?"

"Well," she responded slowly, her face pale, "you said that I thought myself attractive, and I assumed you found my manner flirtatious."

Chase's eyes closed. How could she have misunderstood? He opened his
eyes
to try to make amends, but someone had entered behind him. The way Rusty dropped her eyes and put her hands in her lap, he assumed it had to be Rick.

"Am I too early with your entrees, sir?" Rick asked, noticing that they'd barely touched their salads.

"No, Rick, that's all right. Just leave them and the salads too. We'll manage just fine." Yes, sir.

Rick worked silently and efficiently, but Rusty didn't witness it. She kept her head down the whole time, chancing a peek up only when she was certain they were alone. With Rick gone she looked back at Chase.

"Should I have said something?"

"No, absolutely not. You've done nothing improper, and if I intimated otherwise, please forgive me."

"But he stared," Rusty began.

"He's 15, Katherine, going on 16. Girls are quite fascinating to him right now. Added to that I would guess that you're not much older than he is. You must be what, 17, 18?"

"Nineteen."

Chase nodded. She was older than he guessed, but that didn't matter. What did matter was that she appeared to be feeling better about the situation.

"You're certain I didn't do anything untoward?"

"Quite certain. Your dress is very becoming on you, and he noticed. That's all that happened."

Rusty nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable that she had made such a scene. That it was Chase's comment in the first place, and that he had not handled it well, never occurred to her.

They ate for a time in silence, and Rusty had to admit that the food was worth their concentration. A light oil dressing had been sprinkled on her salad, and Rusty knew she'd never had anything like it. It was delicious. The entree was braised beef, so tender that Rusty didn't need her knife. Asparagus tips as well as carrots sat on the side, as did a small mound of whipped potatoes that tasted as though they'd been seasoned with garlic. Rusty ate with relish, not at all unhappy that Mr. McCandles was quiet for a time. She was well-satisfied when she sat back, but also pleased to see Rick coming with dessert. He had just refilled their coffee cups and given them pieces of pie when Chase took Rusty back to the subject of her leaving.

"Can you tell me why you wish to leave tomorrow?"

Embarrassed, Rusty's head dipped to the side. "I feel as if I've disrupted your whole life and been such a bother. And I really do feel fine. I'm certain I could get myself home—" Rusty stopped when Chase briefly covered her hand with his own. He wanted to remind her that she was not going home on her own—not under any circumstances—but he took another tack.

"If you're really feeling all right, I could really use your help."

"My help?"

"Yes. I have a son," Chase began.

"I met him briefly."

"Did you? Good. His nanny, Mrs. Harding, has a dental appointment tomorrow. It's first thing in the morning, and these appointments usually put her off her feet for several hours, if not the whole day. I know you're eager to see your family, and if you want to leave tomorrow, I'll take you. But if I can take advantage of your being here, it would be a great help." He paused for just a moment. "It's a long day for Quintin to spend on his own, and I fear he'll be rather at loose ends by afternoon."

"And you'd like me to see to him?"

Her voice gave none of her feelings away. Chase had no idea if he'd imposed upon her or not.

"Only if you're up to it," he finished quietly and waited.

"I wouldn't know his schedule."

Chase shook his head. "It doesn't matter. He's only four, well, five next month, but basically he just needs someone to spend time with him and see that he doesn't come to harm."

What about you?
The question sprang into Rusty's mind, but it was not her place to ask.

"And then we would leave on Friday as planned?" She saw now that he would come with her no matter what.

"Yes."

"I'd be happy to spend the day with Quintin tomorrow," she said simply.

"Thank you," Chase said sincerely. He had honestly thought they would be leaving in the morning and was pleased that she would be staying another day. Quintin was sure to enjoy her.

They went back to their dessert for a few moments before Chase said, "May I ask you two questions about what happened in Makepeace?"

"Certainly."

"How did you end up behind the building?"

"I was just taking a shortcut. I never dreamed anyone would be back there."

Chase nodded, but he was quiet for a moment.

"You said there were two," Rusty reminded him.

"Oh, yes. You also said something about needing to find a way to get me home. What was that about?"

Rusty's brow lowered in concentration but then she nodded. "That was about the train holdup. I thought it would be helpful if I could find a way for you to get back here so you could go on with your business. That's when I dozed off and thought I heard the train whistle."