To Whisper Her Name (16 page)

“You may not believe this, Mr. Cooper, but … teaching is something
I wanted to do when I was younger. But when my father arranged …” She caught herself and glanced away, reaching for a pleasantness she didn’t feel. “When I married, of course, I put those plans aside.”

He didn’t nod like people usually did in the ebb and flow of conversation, whether they agreed with what you were saying or not. He didn’t say anything. He simply watched her with those hazel-blue eyes, and she found it unnerving to be so closely regarded.

She folded the clipping down the middle, watching the crease become more prominent with each pass of her thumb and forefinger. “And then of course there’s the business of getting to and from town, and I’d —”

“Have to ride a horse,” he said matter-of-factly.

She looked up, knowing better than to be startled by his directness. “I was going to say that I don’t wish to inconvenience the Hardings. But yes, that is a consideration too, and —”

“I could take you, either on horseback or by carriage. I don’t mind. I’ve already spoken with Uncle Bob, and he seems to think we could work it out. We’d still need to run everything by the general to be sure. But” — his eyes narrowed playfully — “if those three boys who need tutoring also need to learn how to climb out a window, there’s nobody better to teach them than you.”

Olivia tried to laugh, knowing he’d intended to be humorous, but she couldn’t. A bitter taste tinged her mouth. “You addressed this issue with someone else
before
addressing it with me, Mr. Cooper?”

He stood a little straighter. His humor faded. “I wouldn’t call asking Uncle Bob if I could borrow a buggy to take you into town ‘addressing the issue with someone else,’ Mrs. Aberdeen. I was merely seeing if this would be a plausible opportunity before I presented it to you.”

Olivia felt a heat building within. Charles had controlled
everything
for her from the very beginning — choosing what committees she would serve on and with whom, arranging her schedule, including who she could and couldn’t see, and when. Even demanding to approve her choice of gown for formal events they’d attended. She reminded herself this man wasn’t Charles, but despite that …

Like morning dew beneath an August sun, every trace of gratitude within her evaporated. She looked at the advertisement clutched in her hand and saw it through different eyes. It hurt her cheeks to smile. “Thank you for thinking of me, Mr. Cooper, but I’m afraid this opportunity isn’t one I can pursue at this juncture.” She held it out.

But he didn’t take it. He just studied her with a patience that wore hers thin. “Don’t you ever find that exhausting, Mrs. Aberdeen?”

“Don’t I ever find
what
exhausting, Mr. Cooper?”

“Being so proper all the time. Always having to say the right thing. Do the right thing.”

She wished now that she’d never come down here. “I wasn’t attempting to be
proper
, Mr. Cooper. I was simply trying to express my gratitude for your kindness in —”

“Well, you’re obviously not feeling too grateful right now, that’s fairly plain to see. The problem is, ma’am, I don’t know why. But I’d sure like to.”

T
he flush of Mrs. Aberdeen’s cheeks told him she was upset. But for the life of him, Ridley didn’t know why. He wasn’t about to take the advertisement back though. Not without her telling him the truth, which he sensed simmered just below that prim and proper exterior.

“You’re mistaken, Mr. Cooper.” Her voice teetered on the edge of calm. “I
am
grateful to you, sir. But for reasons I’d rather not discuss, I simply cannot apply for this position.”

She gave him a polite smile that made him want to climb over the fence. “Why can’t we at least discuss your reasons?”

“Because I told you just now that I’d prefer not to. It’s my prerogative, as a lady, to —”

“Is it because I spoke with Uncle Bob about the position first? Is that what has you all riled up?”

“I’m not riled up, Mr. Cooper.”

“Surely it’s not the comment about teaching the boys to climb through a window.”

Her jaw clenched tight. “As I said, I’d prefer not to discuss my reasons, Mr. Cooper.”

“Fine, Mrs. Aberdeen. But would you be kind enough to at least tell me what I said that upset you?”

“I’m not upset.” Her mouth formed a tight curve.

“Please.” He held up a hand. “Don’t smile at me like that. It doesn’t have the desired effect, I assure you.”

Her politeness flattened. “And just what, may I ask, do you think is the
effect
I desire?”

Finally, something he knew the answer to. Only, she wasn’t going
to like it. “Your desire, Olivia Aberdeen, is that everything appear the way it
should
be, ma’am, instead of how it actually is.”

Her mouth slipped open. “You have no right to —”

“For instance,” he continued before she could protest, knowing she wouldn’t like being interrupted. Maybe if he got this woman angry enough, she’d let down that blasted guard of hers and he’d get a glimpse of who she really was. “When you’re asked a question, you respond in the way you think a ‘lady’ should, instead of honestly speaking your mind, which I believe you’re quite capable of doing, by the way. And,” he added, when she opened her mouth again, “you refuse to accept my assistance when climbing through a window, yet you’ll willingly climb through that same window yourself, as long as you think no one is watching.”

Her eyes flashed, and he saw the sharp tip of truth hit its mark. He also knew if looks were fire, he’d be burned to a crisp right now.

“As I was saying, Mr. Cooper —”

“I’m not done yet,
Olivia
.”

Her eyes widened.

“I don’t know why you didn’t get the position of head housekeeper here, but from what I’ve seen in you, ma’am, you’re smart and you’ve got spunk, which counts for a lot these days. And if I were over there right now …” He glanced at the fence separating them, hoping she’d hear the ‘olive branch’ in his tone. “I’d help you close that polite little mouth of yours.” He smiled when she clamped her pretty mouth shut. “That is,
if
I wasn’t afraid of losing a finger.”

The hurt that slipped into her eyes told him the peace offering had floated right past her, and he felt bad now for trying to egg her on.

She moistened her lips. “I’m pleased you find my predicament so amusing.”

“No, ma’am.” Ridley looked at her straight on. “I never said that. All I said was —”

“Let me be clear on a few things, Mr. Cooper.”

Ridley felt his own eyes widen and closed his mouth with pleasure.

“You have no right to speak to me in so casual a manner, sir.” Her voice, barely higher than a whisper, was tight with anger. “Our lack of acquaintanceship does not afford you the liberty to tell me what you think I should or should not do. To even suggest that you
think
you know what is best for me is beyond the definition of absurdity. And arrogance.” Her chest rose and fell in quick succession. “I am
more
than capable of determining the course of my life, and I do not require your assistance in that regard.” She lifted her chin. “Nor do I desire it.”

Proud of her in ways he couldn’t describe and intrigued by her all the more, Ridley took a step back from the fence to give her room. He had some idea about the kind of man her late husband had been from what Green had told him, and he’d pretty much drawn his own sketch from there. So even though it was only him and Olivia Aberdeen standing here, he couldn’t shake the feeling she was fighting with someone else.

“Furthermore,” she continued, thrusting the folded newsprint toward him again, “I will thank you to take this advertisement and … and …”

Seeing her struggling for the right words, he smiled. “Put it with the horse droppings?”

She blinked, and her cheeks flushed a deeper crimson. She looked down as though just now realizing all she’d said, and from where he stood, Ridley found himself praying she wouldn’t back down. Not now. Not after having come this far. On the brink of saying something, he held back when she lifted her head.

“You may
put it
wherever you like, Mr. Cooper.”

As she strode back toward the house, triumph in her gait, Ridley watched the sway of her shapely hips and wasn’t nearly so bothered by the fact that he was going to be at Belle Meade a little longer than he’d planned.

Something else occurred to him too.

Although he respected a widow’s time to grieve, what if a particular widow didn’t necessarily need that time? What if her situation were different? He contemplated that, along with the bustle sashaying a right pretty little path away from him, and wondered … What would keep a man from testing those waters, stirring things up a little, just to see if there was interest there?

He wouldn’t be here too much longer, he knew. But try as he might, he couldn’t resist the challenge.

Later that night, he picked his way in the darkness toward the servants’ cabins. Fourth cabin on the left was what Uncle Bob had said. Ridley found it easily and knocked on the door.

Betsy answered, a child in her arms and one clinging to her skirt. The soft glow of lamplight haloed her form. “What you doin’ here, Mr. Cooper? Uncle Bob be needin’ somethin’?”

“Evening, Betsy.” Ridley smiled and fingered his beard. “You once told me you can shave the fuzz off a ripe peach with nary a nick. Does that still hold true, ma’am?”

A sassy sparkle lit her eyes. “I think you’s about to find out!”

Minutes later, with her husband, Julius, and their four children seated at the table watching, Ridley straddled the straight back chair Betsy offered. “It’s not often I let a woman with scissors, much less a razor, this close to my throat.”

Julius laughed. “Just be glad she ain’t mad at you, sir. Ain’t many things I’s scared of, but my wife with her dander up and somethin’ sharp in her grip …” He feigned a shiver. “Lawd, have mercy.”

The children snickered, their dark eyes wide.

Betsy threw them all looks. “You men hush up. And you young ‘uns stop that gigglin’.” She grabbed a handful of Ridley’s hair. “You gonna let me shape this mess up too?”

Ridley grinned. “Do whatever you can to make me look presentable, Betsy.”

Looking like she’d been handed keys to a candy shop, she stepped back and eyed him, then started clipping. His hair first and then his beard. She looked over at her family. “This man right here, I know he ain’t lookin’ like much right now.” She made a face. “But when I be done with him, he gonna be one handsome devil. You see soon enough.”

Ridley timed his response between clips, trying to speak without moving his mouth. “I’ll just be grateful … to have some blood left … when you’re through.” He winked at the youngest girl, who started giggling again.

Betsy put down the scissors, and Ridley ran a hand over his trimmed beard. He reached for the cracked hand mirror on the table, but Betsy swatted his arm.

“You look when I be sayin’ you can look,” she huffed, mixing the shaving soap in a cup. “‘Til then, you just sit tight and do what I say.”

“Mean as a snake, that woman,” Julius whispered from the other side of the table.

Ridley shot him a close-mouthed smile as Betsy brushed the minty lather over his face and throat, working it in as she went. The woman
knew what she was doing, that was for sure. She tilted his chin back and, after throwing the children a last desperate look, Ridley closed his eyes, enjoying their laughter.

A while later, Betsy handed him a warm towel and he scrubbed his face and neck, the heat soothing against his skin. He ran a hand over his smooth jaw, hardly recognizing his own face. As promised, he’d felt not a single nick as she’d pulled that razor across his skin.

He looked up at her. “I’ve never had a better shave, Betsy. Thank you, ma’am.”

A slow smile, smooth as honey, spread across her face. “Mmm-hmm. I knew you had some good looks ‘neath there, Mr. Cooper, but you’s almost as good lookin’ a man as my Julius here.” She winked at her husband, then looked back at Ridley. “I ain’t gonna ask whether you got your sights set on a woman yet or not. But if you do …” She shook her head. “Heaven help her. I hope she gets a runnin’ start.” She pulled the mirror from behind her back and held it up. “But even then I ain’t sure she stands a chance.”