Texas Tiger TH3 (11 page)

Georgina grabbed the rail and glared over her shoulder at him. "You can't tell me what to do, Daniel Martin! I'll get Miss Harrison her job back if I have to break precious porcelain over Peter's head until he agrees. I'll have his father screaming for mercy, and it won't be over his son's broken head. He's tighter than a Scotsman. I know how to hit him where it hurts."

Daniel looked interested but not amused. "We'll discuss this some other time. Right now we're getting you home." He glanced at Janice. "Go home and tell Audrey we're taking care of it. It may take a while, but Mulloney's control over this town is ending. You have my word on it."

Looking uncertain, Janice said nothing as Daniel and Georgina hurried out into the street. A few more boys were returning with empty pouches, and Daniel directed them to help themselves to the last stack of newspapers. Then grasping Georgina's arm, he steered her toward a main thoroughfare where there was some hope of finding a carriage for hire.

"I am tired of being treated like a baby, Daniel. I can get home on my own, and I can persuade Peter to hire Audrey back."

She didn't notice that she had slipped into calling him by his given name. She was tired and worried and irritated, and her mind wasn't on the formalities. For a change, a man's insistence on seeing her home was comforting, and she wanted to surrender to the easy way out, but she knew she couldn't allow him to do it. As much as she would like to have Daniel's strong presence at her side when she arrived in total dishevelment on a day when tempers would be high, she knew she couldn't do that to him. She pulled away from him and hurried forward on her own.

Daniel kept easy pace with her. "It's late and you shouldn't be out on these streets alone. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"Janice walked these streets alone," she pointed out. There was no use in trying to outdistance him. His legs were longer and even when he limped he could walk faster than she could. Besides, perspiration was pouring down her back and the heat was too great for any undue exercise. Words were her only hope.

"Janice isn't dressed in silk and lace and looking like a crime about to happen. She knows these people. You don't. I'm taking you home, so save your breath."

She did. Georgina held her mouth tight in furious silence as they hurried down one alley and dirty street after another until they came to the respectable part of town where Blucher had left her. Then she lifted her skirt, dodged beneath the noses of a team of horses pulling a carriage, and ducked into the nearest shop before Daniel could follow.

The shop owner looked startled as she darted inside, looking bedraggled and forlorn, but he was all solicitous kindness when he recognized her.

"I've had a small accident." Georgina smiled wryly, shaking out her skirt as she appropriated a chair. "Is there someone you could send around to Mulloney's? I need Peter to take me home."

The shopkeeper was already shouting at someone in the back when a large shadow filled the doorway. Georgina scowled at the sight of Daniel standing there in shirtsleeves and ink stains. He would ruin everything.

"I'll step around and speak to Mr. Mulloney. I was heading that direction anyway." Daniel gave the shop owner an obliging smile.

Caught, Georgina couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't reveal she knew who he was, and she didn't think now was an opportune time for that. Mr. Daniel Martin had a propensity for wanting things his way, just like any jackass.

"That's very kind of you, sir," she murmured with syrupy politeness. "There aren't many gallant knights willing to come to a lady's rescue in this day and age."

That made him frown, and he turned around and walked out without a word to her.

Daniel was in no humor for the carpeted aisles and glittering chandelier of Mulloney's Department Store as he stalked in covered in grime and in working man's attire. The clerks stared disapprovingly, making it obvious he had no place in here. That inched his temper another notch higher. Only the prospect that he was finally coming face-to-face with his brother kept his feet moving. Otherwise, mayhem would have been his preference.

He knew precisely where the office was. He'd had a good teacher who had taught him to always know the lay of the land. Remembering the lesson he'd learned from his good friend Benjamin, Daniel modified his step somewhat. He was in enemy territory now. It would pay to be cautious.

The office door was closed, and yelling echoed from within. The secretary who usually guarded the desk had disappeared, presumably to gossip about the free-for-all ensuing in the inner sanctum. Daniel smiled a little more confidently. He had a good notion of the cause of that argument. He was going to enjoy walking in on it to tell of a maiden's need for rescue. Then he could really see what these people were made of. He already suspected he wouldn't like what he found out.

Daniel knocked politely, but no one responded. The argument escalated into a one-sided yelling match. If that was the old man in there, he had a strong set of lungs. Hiding a smile of anticipation, Daniel swung the door open. This was a civilized city office after all, not a place for the six-guns and dynamite he'd had pulled on him in the past. All these city slickers could do was yell, and he'd been yelled at by the best.

The instant the door swung open, the room fell silent. Two remarkably similar faces turned to stare at him. One was older, lined with age and crowned by silver hair, but the defiantly square jaw and glittering emerald eyes were identical to the younger version standing next to him. The black-haired younger man stepped forward with a scowl.

"This is a private office. Please leave."

Daniel managed to keep his hands out of his pockets and a smile off his face by remembering Georgina's plight. Still, he took his time taking in the man who was almost certainly his younger brother. There wasn't any resemblance that he could see. Peter Mulloney was handsome in the fashionable sense with the broad, tall figure and dark good looks that women admired. He was attired immaculately in starched collar and conservative tie and coat. The only concession he made to humanity was a small frown between his eyes as he stared at his unwanted guest.

"Miss Hanover sent me. She's had a small accident and seems to be in need of rescuing. She's around the corner at the shoemaker's."

Worry and irritation crossed Peter's face in equal proportions. "Is she all right? Do we need to send for a physician?"

"She's fine, just a little shaken. I can see her home if you're busy." Daniel had to say that. While he might have a penchant for rescuing ladies in distress, he also had an outrageous sense of humor. The fact that these men had no notion of who he was tickled his fancy. To be able to snatch Miss Hanover from under their noses would be even more amusing. Rescuing her from their greedy clutches just added icing to the cake.

"No, I need to talk to her." With a harried expression, Peter shoved his hands through his hair. "Thanks for bringing the message." He reached into his pocket and flipped Daniel a coin as an afterthought before turning back to the irate old man behind him.

Daniel caught the coin with a grin and walked out whistling. They were going to remember this moment one of these days, and it wouldn't be with fondness.

With that single derisive gesture, the Mulloneys had just demolished the last barrier of hesitation holding Daniel back. He felt no compunction at all about letting loose his armies and storming the bastions. The white knight would rescue the fair damsel, and in so doing, he would slay the evil dragon of injustice.

Chapter 9

"It's nothing. I was running late, and Blucher left, and I fell down and got dirty. I'm totally embarrassed, that's all. But I needed to talk to you—" The carriage hit a rut, and Georgina grasped a side handle.

"And I need to talk to you. How did those pictures get in that filthy newsstand? Have you seen them? There hasn't been another photographer in the store but you. Who is this fellow Martin who put them up?"

Georgina brushed a straying lock of hair from her eyes and looked steadily ahead as she answered wryly, "Thank you so much for your concern, Peter. It's good to know I have someone to call on when I'm in distress."

"For pity's sake, Georgina..." Peter glanced at her stubbornly set chin and modified his tone. "I'm sorry. I just had a horrible row with my father, and you know how that affects me. Are you sure you weren't hurt? You look as if you've been wallowing in the mud and got run over by a carriage."

"Thanks." Sadly enough, it wasn't even anger washing through her at this insult, although her tone hinted at sarcasm. She had known Peter since they were children. Not really known, perhaps. They never had the same interests. Boys and girls seldom did. But the town wasn't so large that they hadn't known each other since time immemorial. That made it easier to treat each other like brother and sister. And that was how he was treating her: like his nuisance of a little sister.

Remembering how Daniel's eyes lit like lanterns when she entered a room, how he touched her arm every chance he got, how he had followed her to make certain she was all right even when she had ordered him not to, Georgina sighed. Why couldn't Peter just be a bit more like Mr. Martin? She was quite certain she could fall in love with him if he would.

Peter sent her a bewildered glance. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Why am I always saying the wrong things to you? I don't even know what it is I'm saying wrong. I'm glad you don't have another pitcher of lemonade handy."

"It's not what you say. It's that you don't listen. I was trying to tell you something, and you didn't hear a word I said."

"I just got finished hearing more words than I wanted to hear from my father. I don't need more lectures. You need to learn to judge a man's moods." Peter whipped the carriage horses into a trot.

"It goes both ways, Peter Mulloney. You're not God. I have moods, too. And my mood is anything but pleasant at the moment." This wasn't the attitude she had meant to take, but he had her temper riled. He seemed to do that entirely too often these days. Everything seemed to do that too often. She felt as if she were living on a powder keg about to explode. Maybe she ought to help her mother choose a wedding gown and call this whole newspaper bit off.

"Good, that makes us even. So why don't we both go home and cool off and try this again another day?"

"Fine, but unless you rehire that unfortunate girl you fired today, I'm not likely to cool off anytime soon. I'm the one who told Mr. Martin all about Mulloney's, not that poor clerk. You owe her an apology."

"You what!" Peter screamed so loud that the horses jerked in their traces, disrupting traffic all around them.

"He's a very nice man I met on the train coming home. You can just ask him."

"And you took those photographs for him, making us look like a slave factory?" His voice was ominously quiet now.

"You'll need to ask Mr. Martin about that," Georgina answered smoothly. Daniel deserved a share of this abuse. If he'd just left her alone, she could have been home and cleaned up without involving Peter. Let him make up some of these answers.

"Damn him! He took advantage of you, didn't he? You chattered and he switched all the words around and made us look like fools. And then he probably admired your new hobby and somehow talked you into giving up some of your silly pictures. I'll break every bone in his body. Does your father know you've been seeing this scoundrel? Don't you ever go out with a chaperone?"

"They're good photographs," Georgina murmured as she crossed her arms and stuck out her bottom lip. "And nobody has chaperones anymore."

Peter ignored her. Pulling the horses up the carriage drive in front of the house, he jumped down to let her out. "Where can I find this scoundrel? I've got a thing or two I intend to tell him."

Georgina jerked her hand away as he tried to help her out. Clinging to the carriage, she let herself down. "I'm not telling you anything else unless you promise to hire that girl back. I may not ever speak to you again unless you hire that girl."

Peter glared. "Good. The silence will be a blessing."

"I hate you, Peter Mulloney." Grabbing up her skirt, Georgina fled into the house, leaving Peter to do as he wished. She wasn't about to give up yet. He would rue the day he called her photographs silly and refused to listen to a simple request.