The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons (13 page)

She rested her head against the wood. Sooner or later, when guests left and the house was quieter, someone would hear her pounding. Someone would let her out.

Eventually.

Daniel resisted the urge to consult his pocket watch. Seven had come and gone, but he managed a smile when Josie’s mother, Ada Price, led him across the large parlor to one of her recent oil paintings, a red bouquet laid atop a map. He’d missed her, this woman who’d comforted him when his mother died five years ago. With a rush of affection tonight, he’d kissed her cheek, which smelled of earth. A few flecks of mud spackled the loose gray-brown hairs at her temple, attesting to her day spent with clay.

Now Josie’s mother grinned, her smile wide and straightforward, like her daughter’s. “I had an idea for a floral piece to commemorate our wedding anniversary, but I lacked paper for my initial sketch. One of Oscar’s maps was lying about when the muse called.”

“I wasn’t pleased it was used as scratch paper,” Josie’s balding father admitted. Daniel stifled a laugh. If his wife ever doodled atop his pen-and-inks, he’d not be pleased, either.

Mrs. Price shrugged. “I so liked the result that I integrated the map into the piece. The scattered petals symbolize love, unbound by place or boundary.”

When she smiled at her husband, Daniel understood. Mr. Price was often away from home for his shipping business, and would leave again tomorrow. The meaning held deep significance to the oft-separated couple.

“An inspiring piece.”

Pablo and Fannie peered over his shoulder at the painting, so he stepped aside. Just in time to see Josie rush into the room. If her appearance was responsible for her tardiness, Daniel couldn’t mind the delay. With white silk flowers in her dark hair and dressed in a mint-hued gown, she was pretty as a spring morning. No comelier than she was in knickerbockers, perhaps, but something about her color was higher tonight. A most becoming addition.

There was no time for apologies or explanations, if they wanted to see the opera. After bidding the Prices farewell, they rushed to the Tivoli Theatre.

“I’m sorry.” As they took their seats, Josie flicked a cat hair from a flounce on her dress.

“It’s fine.” Forgotten. “You look charming.”

“So do you. Handsome, that is.”

If only she meant it.

“Ahem.” Pablo tipped his head at the rising curtain.

Daniel fixed his gaze on the stage, but not his attention. Thoughts of his Italiante-style design for California University had filled his waking moments for so long, it was difficult to stop them now. Influenced by his studies at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris, he envisioned a sophisticated campus. Arches. Eaves supported by corbels. A tower.

Daniel rubbed his forehead. The location of the tower was his biggest problem at the moment, but it was necessary to convey a sense of importance to the place. The current campus, where he’d attended, boasted a potpourri of architectural styles, none at all suitable for the university’s symbolic role as the premier gathering place for fine minds on the West Coast—

Beside him, Josie chuckled. Everyone around him tittered at something on the stage, but Josie’s laugh rang like little bells. The sound made his shoulders relax and his jaws unclench.

Here he was, beside the girl he’d always cared for, thinking of arches and corbels. What a fool. After a long look at her, he fixed his attention on the performance.

At intermission, Josie clapped longer than everyone else. “Are you enjoying it?”

“I am.” Daniel returned her grin. “I needed the diversion more than I thought.” But then he caught sight of a red-haired female, and his shoulders tensed again. Goldie Addis. She’d sent him a few notes and the cinnamon muffins, but he’d not had occasion to speak in private with her. He didn’t relish informing her that the ad was a joke when it might humiliate or hurt her. But his public attempts to thwart his pursuers had failed, and Goldie and others kept dancing attendance and sending treats. Speaking the plain truth was the kindest thing to do.

But tonight he was with the most enchanting girl in town. He rose. “May I procure you ladies a refreshment?”

Josie hopped from her seat and cradled her hand in the crook of his arm. “I’d love to take a turn, too, if that would suit.”

“It suits just fine,” he understated. They followed Fannie and Pablo to the foyer. The thick crowd made progress slow, but there was no reason for Josie to halt altogether.

“Are you well?” He leaned to study her face, startled by the set of her jaw. Her gaze fixed on the young blond couple speaking to Fannie and Pablo just ahead. Wilson and his bride, Nora.

“Punch?” Josie gestured in the direction opposite her brother.

“Why, yes, but not the kind you mean.” It was a jest, but the unholy desire to cuff Wilson across the chin for his despicable trick, just once, rose in his chest.
God forgive me.

“Forget the drinks, then.” Her hand snaked from Daniel’s arm, and she marched to her brother’s side in a green-gowned huff.

“Welcome home, Nora.” She kissed her sister-in-law, but there was no such greeting for her brother. “How could you, Wilson? That advertisement is degrading. Despicable.”

“Good evening to you, sis.” Wilson couldn’t hide his grin.

“Advertisement?” Nora’s brows met in a furrow.

Daniel scanned to see if they could be overheard. Of course they could. It seemed every female gaze fixed his way—as well as those from a few matrons. He stepped up. “It involves Wilson and me, no one else.” His voice was low, but knife sharp. “He and I will discuss it later.”

An irritable sigh escaped Josie’s lips. “It involves me, too, considering Olive Gloss locked me in Viola Predmore’s cupboard, and it’s Wilson’s fault.”

Nora’s lips popped apart. Fannie covered her mouth and Pablo’s brows rose. Wilson laughed, but a cool chute of fury sluiced Daniel’s veins.

“Were you hurt?” Daniel’s gaze raked Josie’s arms, but long gloves hid her skin.

“I’m fine. But that’s why I was late. It took awhile for a maid to let me out.”

Daniel’s gut churned. He hated that she’d been tricked. That she could have been hurt. That a seemingly decent sort of person like Olive would stoop to sabotage because of Wilson’s joke. A sick feeling of helplessness twined with his anger. “You should have told me.”

A disappointed furrow creased her brow. “I promised myself I wouldn’t. I don’t want you to think less of Olive.” Of course she didn’t. “She wouldn’t do something like this under normal circumstances, I’m sure. She must think I’m a threat to her in this fake competition Wilson created, which is ridiculous. And if you like her, I shall never mention it again.”

“This is funnier than the opera.” Wilson swiped a tear of laughter from his cheek.

Nora stared at her husband. “What are they talking about?”

“End the tasteless joke, Wilson.” Daniel’s tone was low but clear.

“It’s no joke. I’m good for the money,” he said, all but admitting he’d placed the ad.

Nora covered her eyes. “Oh, Wilson.”

“Just a bit of competition, is all.” Wilson shrugged.

Daniel shook his head. “You must be terrified I’ll win the Humphries Competition, to stoop to this.”

Wilson had the gall to clap his shoulder. “Not a fair competition between us if you didn’t have a bit of female diversion, too. Besides, most men would clamor to be in your position, with ladies batting their lashes at you. High time you married, too. You should be thanking me.”

As if this were a game where no one was hurt or heartbroken or willing to marry a stranger for a roof over her head. Red tinged Daniel’s vision. “We’ll speak tomorrow.”

“Can’t. Busy day.” Wilson led Nora away. “But you’ll be at the finalist’s dinner at the Humphries’s estate next Saturday? See you then.”

As if they could resolve things there. Coward.

“Intermission’s over.” Josie sighed.

“I didn’t get your punch.”

It was too late for refreshment, but he stepped away anyway. He needed a moment to collect himself.
God, I am not sure how to handle this
—

“Mr. Blair?” Goldie Addis was at his elbow, licking her rosy lips. “Father wondered if you could join us for a post-opera supper.”

Her father wondered, eh? Then again, her architect father was also a finalist in the Humphries Competition. Perhaps he wanted to compare plans.

Or perhaps Goldie was yet another female wanting Wilson’s prize. After all, the reward was for Daniel’s heart, not marriage. All a woman had to do was make Daniel fall in love with her, and then she could take the money and run.

When he married—if he married—he wanted his wife’s love and fidelity. He never wanted to question her intentions toward him, nor his toward her.

Best to end this now. He looked her in the eye. “I cannot, but thank you and your father for your kind invitation. And thank you for the cinnamon muffins. They were delicious. I’ll have my secretary return your basket to you.”

She blinked. “I see.”

“I wish you well, Miss Addis. Pardon me.”

Josie waited, her expression unreadable. When he offered her his arm, she took it, her grip firmer than usual as they followed Pablo and Fannie back into the theater.

“That was a glass of punch, indeed.” Josie’s tone teased, but it sounded off. Her anger at Wilson must not be abating, either.

He held her back so they wouldn’t be overheard. “I have a proposal for you.”

Her eyes widened, as if he meant the other sort of proposal.

“An offer, rather,” he said in a rush. “I’ll design the Mothers’ Home.”

How he’d make the time, he couldn’t guess. Could a body live on an hour’s sleep?

Josie grinned, though, and her hands clutched over her chest. It was a becoming sight. “I knew you’d help. You have the kindest heart, Daniel.”

She shouldn’t say things like that. It made him think she might come to care for him someday. “Kindness doesn’t have a thing to do with it. It’s a trade. I’ll design it, hire a crew, all of that, but I want something from you in return. And I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

Chapter 4

D
aniel had said she wouldn’t like this. But, oh, was he wrong.

The tightness of Josie’s corset challenged the wisdom of partaking yet another dinner course, but her mouth watered anyway. Soufflé à l’orange, fragrant with citrus and cream, sat before her, waiting to be tasted. She sighed, fingers fidgeting on her lap since she dared not touch her spoon. Instead she fixed her gaze on the plump woman in black lace at the table’s head.

Their hostess, Theodora Humphries, had rapped her crystal wineglass in a single melodious
chink.
“What a privilege it is to welcome the local finalists of the International Competition for California University to my home.”

Josie stifled a chuckle.
Home
sounded so modest, but Mrs. Humphries’s enormous manse, with its three-story foyer and mullioned windows, was no cozy dwelling. It neighbored the mansions of railroad barons and those who’d made fortunes in precious metals, including Daniel’s father. Josie didn’t live too far down the street, true, but her house was not as grand.

Mrs. Humphries nodded at the group, including Daniel, his partner Harvey, and Harvey’s widowed sister Jane Faraday, a slender woman who served as Josie’s chaperone tonight.

Then Mrs. Humphries’s gaze passed over Nora and Wilson, the lone imperfection in Josie’s otherwise fine evening. Brows must have lifted when she arrived apart from Wilson, who was a natural chaperone for her as her brother and, as a finalist, also invited. Seeing as he wouldn’t receive her when she called today—no doubt to avoid further discussion of his wretched ad—she couldn’t ask him to accompany her and Daniel. Even if she’d wanted to.

Which she didn’t. If she’d had to ride here in Wilson’s carriage tonight, she would be hoarse from lecturing him.

You’ve got to forgive him sometime.

Her fingers played with the hem of her serviette. How to forgive when he was unrepentant? Just looking at his smirk made her ears buzz.

Mrs. Humphries’s voice recalled Josie’s attention. “The committee in Brussels awaits your expanded plans. I am relieved I do not have to make the final selection myself, for I am so impressed by all of your designs that I could not possibly pick a favorite. If I did, I’d be forced to don a blindfold and point to a submission at random.” Mrs. Humphries chortled, inspiring the room to follow suit. Except for Daniel, seated to her left.

He was such a serious fellow. Dedicated, driven, thoughtful, all admirable qualities. She’d accompanied him tonight to allow him to focus on his hostess rather than any women who might have designs on his heart.

But Josie wanted Mrs. Humphries to see the true Daniel, too. Not the congressman’s son or even the architect, but a clever gentleman whose ideas would see the university prosper. Mrs. Humphries couldn’t help but be amazed by Daniel, if she spent a mere minute with him.

But he didn’t smile, and he looked so handsome when he smiled.

Under the table, Josie jostled his leg with her knee. Unladylike, but effective.

He looked at her from the corner of his eye. Then, yes. There it was. A dazzling smile.