Tender Is the Storm (3 page)

Sharisse listened with distaste. She couldn’t blame the poor girl for being so upset. She had never been near Five Points, but she knew of the area of Manhattan that held the worst slums in the city, including the notorious “old Brewery,” where people were packed together in decrepit, filthy buildings. The annual record of murders, robberies, and other crimes was staggering. No stranger could safely walk those streets. To think that this poor child, who couldn’t be more than fifteen, had probably grown up there and was trying desperately to escape.

“You will give her another chance, Mrs. Etherton?” Sharisse said impulsively.

The housekeeper’s face mottled. “But, Miss—”

“Everyone deserves more than one chance,” Sharisse said adamantly. “Just see that you are more careful in the future.”

“Oh, thank you, miss!”

“Now, has anyone seen Charley?” asked Sharisse.

“In the storeroom, miss,” the cook supplied.

“The storeroom, of course,” Sharisse said.

Sure enough, there he was lying on the cool tile next to a piece of pilfered chicken. Without another word to the servants, Sharisse left the kitchen with Charley. The long-haired tomcat was snuggled securely in his mistress’s arms.

Stephanie put down the letter she had just finished reading aloud. She looked defiantly at her closest friend, Trudi Baker. “So now you know that I wasn’t just making it up when I said I was getting married. Before the month is over, I will be Mrs. Lucas Holt.”

They were ensconced in Stephanie’s bedroom, a feminine room with white draperies on the two windows, lavender wallpaper, and pink and white bed canopy and table covers. The settee where Trudi was sitting was rose pink brocade and nearly matched her afternoon dress.

The two young girls were of a similar height and coloring, but Trudi’s eyes were green. She was six months older, a great difference in her opinion. She also had a more aggressive personality. Both girls acknowledged that she was the daring one, and that was why she was having such difficulty accepting all of this.

If she hadn’t seen the coach and train tickets
with her own eyes, she would still have thought her best friend was pulling her leg.

“Well?” Stephanie demanded.

Trudi tried to address the matter she felt was most important. “He won’t be handsome, you know. He’s probably so ugly that no woman out there will have him. That’s why he had to advertise for a wife.”

“Nonsense, Trudi. It could be just the other way around. He couldn’t find a girl pretty enough to suit him, is all.”

“Wishful thinking, Steph! You sent him a picture of you, so why didn’t you ask for one of him?”

Stephanie bit her lip. “I did,” she admitted. “But he didn’t send one or say anything about it.”

“You see! He’s old and ugly and knew he would never have a chance with you if you saw what he looked like.”

“He probably just doesn’t have a picture of himself.”

“Steph, why don’t you just admit you didn’t really think this through?”

Stephanie began to look even more obstinate, and Trudi rushed on, “Why him? There are a dozen men right here who would jump at the chance to marry you, men you know, men who aren’t strangers. Just because Lucas Holt sent the tickets and is expecting you doesn’t mean you have to go. Send the tickets back. What can he do?”

Stephanie looked miserable. “You don’t understand, Trudi. The only man I want is going to
marry my sister. I
have
to do this. Sharisse’s wedding is next week. I don’t intend to be here to see it.”

“So you’re running away.”

Stephanie looked at the floor. “If you want to put it that way, yes, I’m running away.”

Trudi’s brow creased. “Doesn’t it matter that you may be miserable the rest of your life?”

“I have resigned myself,” Stephanie sighed.

“Haven’t you done anything at all to change things? Have you talked to your father? Have you told your sister? Does anyone know besides me?”

“No, no, and no. What difference would it make except to humiliate me? My father doesn’t take me seriously. He still thinks of me as a child. And I can’t bear for Sharisse to know. I won’t have her pitying me.”

“She’s your sister, not your enemy. She loves you. She might help you.”

“There’s nothing she can do.”

“How do you know? You might be afraid of telling your father, but maybe she isn’t.”

“She wouldn’t dare,” Stephanie gasped. Trudi didn’t really know Marcus Hammond.

“She’s worldly, Steph, and she doesn’t let things get to her the way you do.”

“She only pretends she doesn’t,” Stephanie said knowingly.

Trudi tried another approach.

“What if Sharisse refuses to marry Joel? She doesn’t seem to love him.”

Stephanie smiled wryly. “Nobody dares defy my father, certainly not Rissy or I.”

“Honestly, Stephanie Hammond, you’re determined to not even try, aren’t you?” Trudi said angrily. “You wouldn’t catch me giving up without a fight. I would do anything possible to get what I wanted.”

Stephanie just shrugged.

“All you have to do is tell your sister the truth. It’s not as if she loves him or would really be giving up anything. You said that she doesn’t care, that she’s been treating her own wedding as if it were just another party to attend this summer. I’ve seen her with Joel myself. She treats him like a brother. If she loves him, she hides it very well.”

“No, she doesn’t love him. I’m sure of that.”

“Then why shouldn’t she help you?”

“Trudi, stop it. There’s nothing she can do.”

“Maybe. But what if there is? What if she manages to call off the wedding and you end up with Joel? If worse comes to worst, let her be the one to run away. At least then the wedding won’t take place.”

“That’s crazy, Trudi,” Stephanie said angrily, but it was anger at herself because she wished it were Sharisse who was going away. Lucas Holt was probably ugly and old, and she really would be miserable with him. She had made such a mess of things. She felt tears begin.

“Well, I suppose I could at least tell Rissy how I feel,” Stephanie said hesitantly.

“Now that’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all day.” Trudi smiled at her, a little bit relieved.

“Good night, Rissy.”

“Good night, Joel.”

Sharisse closed her eyes and waited for the usual perfunctory kiss, hoping desperately she would feel something this time. She didn’t. There was no strength in the hands that gripped her shoulders, no enthusiasm in the lips that brushed against hers. He had never held her close to him, and she realized she didn’t know what it was like to be swept into a man’s embrace. Antoine Gautier had never held her passionately, either. He had made love to her hands, in the Frenchman’s style. Even so, the brush of Antoine’s lips against her palm had done more to stir her passions than anything Joel had done.

She couldn’t blame Joel. After being humiliated by Antoine, she had sworn never to love again—and her heart had taken her seriously. It was just as well. She could never be hurt that way again. So she told herself to stop hoping for something more than tepid affection.

Sighing, she stood by the front door and watched Joel skip down the stairs and get into his carriage. He was so handsome. His complexion was nearly as creamy white as her own. His little mustache was always neatly trimmed. His slim physique wasn’t at all intimidating, like her father’s well-muscled form. There was no arrogance in him, either, which was important to her. Her father had supplied all the overbearing arrogance she needed for one lifetime. Joel was good-natured, with a devil-may-care charm. What more could she ask for?

Who was she kidding? It wasn’t at all flattering when a man couldn’t even pretend he found you desirable. At least Antoine had pretended. No, she wouldn’t compare them. Joel wasn’t at all like the deceitful Antoine. She was just wanting, was all. Her height put most men off, and her slim, boyish figure deterred the rest. She just wasn’t feminine, and she didn’t have what it took to stir men’s passions.

Oh, some men looked at her with unconcealed lust, but she was wise to them. They were like Antoine, men who were merely titillated by the thought of spoiling a woman’s innocence. That was all they wanted. At least she wouldn’t have to put up with that anymore, once she was married.

Next week. She would be Mrs. Joel Parrington next week. Yet he didn’t love her and she didn’t love him. It didn’t matter. She was never going to love again, so it didn’t matter.

Marcus Hammond’s blood pressure was rising. He glared across his desk at his elder daughter, but for once his displeasure was not making her cower. There she sat in her night rail glaring right back at him. He couldn’t believe it. She reminded him so much of his wife. But he wasn’t going to stand for this rebellion.

“Go to your room, Sharisse!”

Her large amethyst eyes rounded even more. “You mean you won’t even discuss this with me?”

“No.

Her chin raised stubbornly, and she sat back in her chair as if settling in. “I won’t go to bed until this thing is settled.”

“You won’t? You won’t! By God—”

“Will you just listen to me?” Sharisse’s voice turned pleading.

“Listen to more nonsense? I will not!”

“But don’t you see? I can’t marry Joel now. How can I when I know Stephanie loves him?”

“Stephanie is a child,” her father blustered. “She’s too young to know anything about love.”

“She’s seventeen, Father,” Sharisse pointed out. “Wasn’t Mother seventeen when you married her?”

“You leave your mother out of this!” Marcus warned furiously.

Sharisse backed down. “If you’ll just listen to what I’m saying…I don’t love Joel, but Steph does. So why should I have to marry him, when she wants to?”

“This should have been brought up when it was settled that you would marry him, not now, with the wedding a week away. You were perfectly willing to marry the boy before your sister made her ridiculous confession to you. It’s too late now, Sharisse.”

“Oh, I could just scream!” Sharisse cried in frustration, shocking her father further. “It’s not as if we aren’t intimately acquainted with the Parringtons. Joel’s father is your best friend, has been since before I was born. If the situation were explained to Edward, he would certainly understand.”

“Like hell he would,” Marcus growled, appalled at the thought of telling his friend he wanted to substitute daughters at this late date. The very idea! “I will hear no more about this.”

“But, Father—”

“No more I say!” He rose from his chair to his full intimidating height, and Sharisse paled. “You’re not too old to take a strap to, Sharisse Hammond, and by God, that’s exactly what I’ll
do if you so much as mention this nonsense to me again!”

Sharisse didn’t answer. Her courage fell, and she ran from the room. At the top of the stairs she stopped, her heart hammering. Had she ever been so frightened before? How she’d got the nerve to defy her father, she didn’t know. To go against him after that last horrible threat…impossible. She had known it wouldn’t be easy telling her father, but she hadn’t thought he would refuse her so furiously. And to threaten her with a whipping! She shuddered.

Sharisse found Stephanie in her room, sitting anxiously on the edge of the bed, waiting. “I’m sorry, Steph,” was all she had to say.

The younger girl started to cry. “I knew it wouldn’t do any good. I told Trudi so, but she was so sure you could do something.”

Sharisse moved to the bed and tried to comfort her sister. “Please don’t cry, Steph. Maybe after Father thinks about it awhile…”

“If he told you no, he won’t change his mind.” Stephanie sobbed harder. “I shouldn’t have told you at all. I should just have left here the way I planned.”

“Leave?” Sharisse wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. “What do you mean?”

“Never mind.” Stephanie sniffed.

“You don’t have anywhere to go, Steph.”

“Don’t I?” Stephanie said angrily, thinking Sharisse was feeling sorry for her. “For your information, I have a man waiting to marry me—right now, in Arizona. I have the tickets to get
there. I might even be married before you are,” she added, not knowing how long it took to get to Arizona.

“But where did you meet this man?”

“I…I haven’t actually met him. We corresponded through the mail.”

“What?”

“Don’t look so shocked. It’s done all the time. There is a shortage of women in the West, you know. How else are those brave men to get decent wives?”

Stephanie was saying whatever sounded logical, defending herself. Actually she knew as little about the West or about mail-order brides as Sharisse did. But she didn’t want her sister to know that, or to know that she was dreading going to Lucas Holt.

“You mean you were planning to
marry
some man you don’t even know? To travel across the country…Steph, how could you even think of such a thing?”

“How could I think of staying here after you marry Joel? I can’t. I won’t. I’ll leave tomorrow, and don’t you dare try to stop me.”

“But I can’t let you go. You’re such an innocent, Steph. Why, you’d probably get lost before you even got to the train station.”

“Just because you’ve been to Europe doesn’t mean you’re the only one who knows how to travel,” Stephanie snapped. “I’ve gone to Aunt Sophie’s. I’ll manage.”

“You’ve gone to Aunt Sophie’s with Father and me. You’ve never been anywhere alone. And…
my God, to actually consider marrying a stranger! No, I can’t let you.”

Stephanie’s eyes narrowed angrily. “You would force me to stay here and watch you marry Joel? You would be that cruel?”

“Steph!”

“I love him!” A new flood of tears gathered. “I love him, and you’re going to marry him! You know,” she added bitterly, “the only thing that would prevent that wedding next week is if you weren’t here to attend it. But would you think of leaving instead of me? Of course you wouldn’t. You certainly gave up on Father soon enough. I couldn’t expect you to have the courage to defy him by running away.”

“He said he would take a strap to me,” Sharisse said quietly.

“Oh,” Stephanie said, all accusation dying.

“Wait a minute,” Sharisse said impulsively. “Why couldn’t I leave? It would solve everything. Father would see that I am serious about not marrying Joel, and I would only have to stay away until he gave in.”

“Do you mean it, Rissy?” Stephanie asked, daring to hope. “Would you really do that for me?”

Sharisse was thoughtful. Her father would be furious. She might have to stay away for months. But at least she wouldn’t be responsible for her sister’s misery.

“Why not?” she said courageously. “I can go and stay with Aunt Sophie.”

Stephanie shook her head. “That’s the first
place Father will look. You don’t think he’s going to let you go without trying to find you, do you?”

“Oh, dear.” Sharisse frowned. “Well, let me think for a moment.”

“You could use the tickets I have.”

“Go to Arizona? That’s ridiculous, Steph. I won’t have to go
that
far.”

“But where else could you stay? At least Lucas Holt will take care of you until I can get word to you that it’s all right to come home.”

“Take care of me?” Sharisse gasped. “The man is expecting a wife, not a guest. And he’s expecting you, not me.”

“Well, actually, he doesn’t know what he’s getting. I did send him a picture, but it was the one of you and me and Father, the one taken after you got back from Europe. I…ah…I forgot to tell him which of us was me.”

If Sharisse was going to be good enough to go away, she wanted her far enough away that their father would have no chance of finding her. Arizona was far enough.

“When I wrote to him,” she continued, “I signed my name only S. Hammond. So, you see, he wouldn’t know the difference if you went in my place. And he doesn’t have to know that you have no intention of marrying him.”

“You mean deceive him?”

“Well, he’s not expecting to marry me immediately. He said in his letter that he would have to approve me first. After a while, you could just say it didn’t work out, you can’t marry him.”

Sharisse was appalled. “I couldn’t possibly take advantage of the man.”

Stephanie refused to give up. “You don’t have the money to support yourself, do you?”

“I have my jewels. They would last a while.”

“Sell them?”

“As many as necessary.”

Stephanie began to wonder how she could let her sister do this for her, but then she thought of Joel and suppressed her conscience.

“You probably won’t get anywhere near what those jewels are worth,” Stephanie said thoughtfully. “I just don’t see why you can’t take advantage of Lucas Holt. Did I tell you he was a rancher? I’ll give you his letter and the advertisement. You can see for yourself he sounds like a very agreeable fellow. He’s probably rich. You could live in style.”

“Stop it, Steph. I wouldn’t dream of using the man that way. I will make use of his train ticket, though, to get me out of here.” Sharisse grinned, excited by her own daring. “Shall we go to my room and start packing? If I’m going to go, I’ll have to leave first thing in the morning, just as soon as Father goes to his office. You can cover for me in the afternoon and evening. Father won’t have to know I’ve gone until the following day, and by then I should be far away. You’ll have to cancel my appointments for me. I was to meet Sheila for lunch tomorrow, and there’s Carol’s party—”

“How can I ever thank you, Rissy?” Stephanie cried.

“By becoming Mrs. Joel Parrington as soon as you can. I don’t mind disappearing for a while, but I don’t want to be gone too long.” She smiled wistfully. “After all, nowhere can compare with New York. I love it here, and I hate being homesick.”

Stephanie grinned. “You’ll be back before you know it.”