The Marrying Kind (32 page)

"That was an accident." Libby burst out laughing. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I guess it was just an automatic reaction I couldn't control."

"Oh, I see..." Donovan took her hand and pulled it beneath the covers. Uttering a low moan when he had her fingers where he wanted them, he muttered, "So is this."

Libby jerked away from him as if she'd touched fire. Maybe, she had. "What are you suggesting?" she whispered harshly. "Your sister's downstairs, and she's waiting not just for me, but for you, too."

"So what? She can wait a few minutes while we—"

"Don't be ridiculous. I can't... you know, with her waiting downstairs." Libby rolled to the edge of the bed, but Donovan caught her from behind.

Fitting her bottom against the part of him that would not be denied, he took her breast into one hand and lightly massaged the nipple as he whispered thickly, "You can... and you will. And just to make sure we don't keep
anyone waiting too long, we'll do it your way—as fast as you want to go." His hand slid lower, parting her legs, and then he began to move, sliding back and forth along the slick curves of her body. By then, Libby couldn't even remember his sister's name.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Libby waltzed into the living room to find Susan sipping a cup of tea. "Sorry to have kept you waiting, but I'm afraid I was overly indulgent with myself today, and slept in."

"Oh, please, don't apologize. I had no idea you were staying here."

"Oh, well, I'm not exactly. Last night it was late, and I was only..."

"Goodness," Susan blushed and looked away. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. I'm just happy you agreed to come down and talk to me."

Embarrassed, but tingling from head to toe as she recalled the frantic, thrilling lovemaking she and Donovan had just shared, Libby settled on the sofa across from where the young woman sat.

Her composure back in place, Susan remarked, "That's really an unusual outfit. Do all the women in Wyoming dress this way?"

Laughing softly, Libby admitted, "No, I'm kind of an oddity at home, too. I generally explain that I wear these buckskins because of all the traveling I do on horseback as a reporter, but between you and me, they're also a heck of a lot more comfortable than any dress I've ever owned."

Susan was still laughing, making Libby feel completely at ease, when Donovan stepped into the room. He was wearing a trim dark suit without the brocade vest, and in place of his usual string tie, he wore a smoke-gray tie fashioned into a large bow at his throat. Donovan the businessman supplanting Donovan the gambler, she supposed, but Libby missed the charm of his satiny vest.

Smiling warmly at his sister, Donovan glanced repeatedly at the floor near the bay window as he greeted her. "Hello, Susan. What a nice surprise."

"Good morning, Donovan," she replied. "I probably should have sent advance notice of my visit, but I was just too eager to talk with you to wait. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." He glanced at Libby, favoring her with a smile which would have gotten him arrested had he flashed it in front of her father when he was alive. "Morning, Libby. You're looking bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked today. Sleep well, did you?"

She willed herself not to blush and tried to think of something sassy to say in return, but the best she could do was, "Thanks. You're looking pretty good yourself."

"I can't remember when I ever felt better."

At least then he had the decency to turn away, giving Libby a chance to regain her composure. After checking all three mousetraps and finding them empty except for bait, Donovan made his way across the room and joined her at the sofa.

"So," he said, addressing his sister. "What are you so eager to talk about?"

Shyly dropping her gaze to her lap, Susan's voice was surprisingly strong as she said, "I've been thinking over some of the things Libby talked to me about the night of our welcome party for you. I'm proud to say that I've decided to join the National Woman Suffrage Association."

Mortified to realize how much influence she'd had on the young woman, Libby beat Donovan to the obvious question. "Oh, but Susan—what about your father? He'll be furious if you join the cause. Are you aware of that?"

Still keeping her eyes downcast, Susan shrugged. "I'm to be married soon, and won't have to answer to him much longer."

"That might be true," said Donovan, "but then you'll have a husband. What if he objects?"

At last, Susan looked up and regarded them both. "I plan to tell Henry about this decision later, but I can't imagine that he'd be terribly interested in our country's political problems, at least regarding suffrage. We'll be living abroad within the year, anyway, and I did so want to do something to help the cause before I go. Surely there must be some way for me to be useful."

Libby and Donovan exchanged glances. She nodded, giving him the floor—Susan was, after all, his sister.

He propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. "It sounds to me like you've already made up your mind, even though you know our father won't be happy about it. What are you looking for from me? Advice?"

"Not really." She glanced at Libby, suddenly looking uneasy, then back to her brother. "I just wanted you to know about my decision. I thought, with Libby being so active in women's rights and all, that you'd be... happy for me, I guess."

"Of course I am, Susan." He rose and crossed over to her chair. "If you want to champion the women's vote, I think you should. The idea doesn't bother me the way it does R. T. Just be sure to leave the
San Francisco Tribune
and its affiliates out of whatever you do." He laughed heartily, then reached down and took her hand in his. "Speaking of the newspaper, this is my first day on the job at Savage Publishing, and I'm already late. I have to go."

He brought Susan's fingers to his lips, bestowing a kiss to them, and Libby could see the unspoken love, or at least, a deep family affection, reflected in his stormy blue eyes. If Donovan had been planning a sentimental good-bye to Libby, it was interrupted as Gerda lumbered into the living room carrying a serving tray.

"Mr. Donovan." Her heavily-lidded eyes went round for a moment. "But you are not home."

"Ah, but yes, I am. I just came in."

"I did not hear you arrive." Looking puzzled, she asked, "Do you vant tea and muffins with the ladies, or me to cook you a nice big breakfast?"

"Neither, actually. I have to leave now."

"You just came in and now you must leave?"

"That's right."

Shaking her head and muttering to herself in German, Gerda set the tray on the coffee table and then waddled out of the room. Donovan was one step behind her.

"I really do have to be on my way," he said over his shoulder. "Glad you stopped by, Susan, and good luck with your enterprise. Libby... I'll see you later this afternoon."

"Good day, Donovan," said Susan. "Oh, and Henry and I would like to take you and Libby to the Cliff House this coming Saturday. Can you make it?"

At the arched doorway, he turned and shrugged. "Whatever Libby decides is fine with me." And then he was gone.

Looking much more relaxed, Susan settled back against the chair, yet strangely enough, her spine never quite met the fabric. Libby saw the gesture as an opposite to her own social status and upbringing—her idea of relaxing would have been to throw her leg over the arm of the sofa. How long before Donovan would be employing this same stiff-backed formality? No longer looking into her lap, but directly at Libby, Susan said, "I had the feeling you were a little surprised by my decision. I hope the fact that I mentioned you as a major reason for joining the cause didn't upset or embarrass you."

In some ways it did, but Libby could hardly explain any of them to her. She smiled. "No, of course not. I'm just concerned that I didn't also mention some of the difficulties you'll be facing as a suffragist. Most men don't think much of our activities, and here in San Francisco, I've noticed that many women feel that way, too."

"You don't need to worry about me. I'm stronger than I look." This surprised Libby, as she hadn't noticed a wealth of insight in the young woman before. Susan went on, indeed sounding stronger. "Those few things you said to me the other night got me to thinking about my life and what I hope to accomplish with it, especially the part about my living in a fantasy world, compared to most women. I do want to help others, in particular those who cannot help themselves. I also think it's about time I started raising more... hell."

Libby almost laughed out loud. Susan had eked out the word 'hell' with so much effort, she was sure this was the first time the young woman had ever sworn. Something sharp, a feeling close to envy, slashed through Libby's breast as she studied the enthusiasm radiating from Susan's expression. The neophyte suffragist was really excited by the idea that she could make a mark in this male-dominated world, no matter if her contributions made only a barely discernible scratch.

Seeing this in her, watching the embers of pride catch fire in Susan the way they'd once caught fire in her own heart, a lump of regret swelled in Libby's throat. She felt like a traitor to the cause, a turncoat. How could she be dispensing advice on equal rights to anyone?

"How do I sign on?" asked Susan.

"You're absolutely sure you want to do this?"

"One hundred percent, completely."

"If that's the way you feel..."

To test her a little, Libby considered the possibility of asking Susan to gather some information she'd been wanting since she'd found out R. T. Savage owned a distillery. She hadn't done a thing about it herself yet because, frankly, she was more than just a little nervous over the idea of rattling the cage of such a powerful man. Especially since the man in question already regarded her with a jaundiced eye. However, if his own daughter were to do a little checking up on his holdings, Libby doubted he'd even notice, much less connect Susan to the NWSA.

Feeling good about the plan, Libby said, "I need some information on a company called
Eldorado
Distilleries. I understand it belongs to your family. Are you aware of that?"

"Of course." She laughed as if Libby had made some grand joke. "We've only been in the newspaper business a few years now. The distillery is our backbone."

"Then perhaps I shouldn't even consider you for this job."

"But why not? You've got to give me a chance."

Careful with her wording, Libby lowered her voice and said, "This job involves the investigation of your family's business. I feel awkward asking you to do such a thing, especially knowing that it won't be easy for you."

Susan contemplated this for a minute. "I can't say I'll enjoy checking up on my family, but easy is all I've ever known. I really want to do something useful, even if part of what I do gets to be a little unpleasant." The excitement was back in her expression, more flagrant than ever. "What is it you want me to do?"

"All right then." Sure she'd given the young woman every chance to back out, Libby said in hushed tones, "I need for you to send a couple of wires regarding
Eldorado
and the liquor industry in general. You may not like the answers you get, and in fact, may choose not to bring them back to me once you study their content. If that's the case, I'll understand and nothing more will be mentioned about it. Either way, you and I will remain friends. Understood?"

"That's it?"

"Yes, that's all there is to it."

Susan leaped out of her chair. "Then I'd better get going. Whom do I wire and what do I say?"

"I'll give you written instructions." Although the tea had gone cold and the muffins were untouched, Libby rose from the sofa and bid Susan follow her as she headed for the credenza in the foyer. After removing paper and pencil from a drawer in the small hutch, Libby jotted down a couple of names and queries. Before she handed the paper to Susan, she asked, "I want this information gathered as quietly as possible. Can you send these wires without your father knowing?"

"Of course. I've got a driver out front who'll be with me all day. Should I wait for the answers or go back to the telegraph office and check on them from time to time?"

Libby shrugged, not certain how long it would take to make the contacts necessary. "Do whatever you feel is safest for you—and while you're at it," she muttered, thinking of more complications, "be sure to use an assumed name, not your own or mine. Make one up, but be sure to mention that you're representing a small group of women from the NWSA here in California."

Her blood heating the way it used to whenever she began an assignment for the cause, Libby handed the note to Susan and issued one final warning. "Get back to me as soon as you have answers, but make sure it's me you come to—and only me."

"I understand." Susan grinned as she stuffed the paper into her velvet bag. "In regard to the cause, I suppose Donovan is the enemy, being a male."

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," Libby said as she opened the door, "but he is—"

The rest of the sentence died on her tongue when she realized someone was standing on the other side of the threshold.

Chapter 17