Wishes on the Wind (11 page)

    "She'll manage. She always does. Now go downstairs and smile. We wouldn't want the Huttons to suspect their visit has put us at a disadvantage." Pausing, Letty looked unwavering into her daughter's face. "Is that understood?"

    "Yes, Mama."

    Waiting only until her daughter had slipped back out of the room, Letty raised a hand to her temple in an uncertain gesture she could not afford in her daughter's presence. Looking up as Margaret appeared in the doorway, Letty stiffened her back and spoke in a soft, urgent tone. "You're to see that all the bedrooms are set to right as quickly as possible, and I want you to tell Cook to serve tea now, so dinner may be delayed to afford her more time to accommodate our guests."

    "Yes, ma'am."

    Her expression tense, Letty smoothed a wayward blonde wisp from the back of her neck as Margaret disappeared from sight. Her reputation as an efficient housekeeper and faultless hostess was at stake, and she did not take the situation lightly. As difficult as some aspects of her life in Shenandoah had been in the past five years, she had never compromised her standards. This house was so beautiful and well kept that could be in the center of Philadelphia proper, instead of being isolated on a hilltop from which she could view only a devastated valley and the homes of a working class whose station was far below theirs. And as unexpected as was this visit from Harry and Sybil Hutton and their daughters, she was determined they would see both her home and herself only at their best.

    In the hallway Letty turned toward the central staircase to the first floor, where her guests awaited her.

    "Gather the fresh linens off the line and be quick about it, miss! The mistress wants everything in tip-top shape when she shows the Hutton family upstairs to their rooms."

    Cook's instructions were issued in a brusque tone, but Meghan knew her curtness was not intentional. Pandemonium had broken loose in the servants' quarters upon the arrival of Mrs. Lang's unexpected guests, and she felt a sudden certainty that, despite the lateness of the hour, the day's work had only just begun.

    Snatching up the laundry basket outside the door, she hastened toward the portion of the yard where the bed linens flapped in the afternoon breeze. Minutes later, she followed Margaret and Mabel up the rear staircase to the second floor.

    It occurred to Meghan as she continued down the hallway behind the two women that this was the first time she had been allowed to set foot above the first floor of the house. Unable to deny her curiosity, she glanced around her at the lavish paintings that lined the walls, and the lush flowered runner beneath her feet. Stepping over the threshold of the bedroom into which she was directed, she could not restrain a gasp of amazement. The size of the place! The room she shared at Uncle Timothy's with Ma and Sean could fit into it four times over. There were huge windows that overlooked the rear yard, and there was a great, majestic bed four towering posts and all! She was still marveling when a sharp voice snapped her from her bemusement.

    "There's no time to waste, miss!"

    Caught unawares, Meghan nodded in silent response. Her hands were working deftly at her chores a few minutes later when a smile slowly spread across her lips. Oh, she'd have plenty to tell Ma about the house on the hill tonight. She could hardly wait.

    David's smile was forced. He just wasn't up to this effort today.

    "You're so quiet, David. I thought you'd be happy to see me."

    David looked at Abigail Hutton's petulant expression where she sat across from him in the living room. He groaned inwardly. Just a few weeks ago, he wouldn't have been able to think of anything that pleased him more than Abigail Hutton's visit, unexpected or not, or a better sight to behold than Abigail's strawberry blonde curls and flirtatious smile not to mention the way her body filled her fashionable pink gown. A year younger than he, Abby was ripe and totally delicious in many ways, but somehow the memory of her soft, womanly proportions pressed tightly against him, and her gasping response to some of his more intimate explorations, had lost some of its potency. He wasn't opposed to getting to know her more intimately still, but he simply was not of a mind today for her inane conversation.

    Glancing around the room, David was especially grateful that Grace had returned and claimed the attention of Abigail's younger sister, Beverly. For the truth was, he couldn't stand the girl's mooning gaze. Uncle Martin was discussing the state of the economy with Harry Hutton, and Mrs. Hutton appeared engrossed in their conversation. So, it appeared that left Abigail to him.

    David suppressed a groan. He'd had a damned irritating day.

    David glanced again at his uncle, and remorse for the angry words they had exchanged on the way home from the colliery swelled inside him. The argument was his fault. He had been more irritable than could be excused. Seeing Meghan O'Connor joking with that stable boy in the yard earlier had raised feelings he could not understand.

    The truth was that he was still annoyed with himself. If he'd had the good sense to mind his own business that day in the study, Aunt Letty wouldn't have hired the girl, and he would have been spared the nagging of his conscience which had led to the mess he had made of things. One thing was certain. The girl was a thorn in his side, and he wasn't quite sure what to do about it.

    Aside from that, David was uncomfortably aware that he owed his uncle an apology. It was the least he could do to relieve the weight of his uncle's many concerns, for the situation in Schuylkill County was grim and becoming worse. Prices of coal had plummeted, and it was frightening to think that the price was expected to drop even lower. The unannounced visit that morning from Franklin Gowen, Chief Counsel of the Philadelphia and Reading Railway, had caused a disagreement between Uncle Martin and himself that was based on his uncle's admiration for the man, while his own reaction to Gowen was quite the reverse. He distrusted the man's motives, and had told his uncle so in a way that had only raised his uncle's ire.

    The poor situation in the coal fields was magnified ten-fold at the Lang Colliery. Uncle Martin's hard-nosed policy since the train wreck and murder of his spy had caused the unrest in the shafts to approach a danger point. Captain Linden had reported only that morning that there were rumors the Sons of Molly Maguire would soon be taking action again.

    They had been fortunate that the Mollies' vengeance had not     come closer to home. It wasn't as if David feared for himself. He knew he was well able to take care of himself in any emergency, but the same could not be said for Aunt Letty or Grace.

    "David…"

    Abigail's whining snapped him from his thoughts as Aunt Letty walked back into the room. David released a silent sigh of relief that his dear aunt had arrived in time to take the pouting Abigail off his hands. Standing up, he smiled apologetically.

    "If you'll excuse me, Abigail. There are some things I have to take care of upstairs." Responding to the girl's irate expression, he took her hand. "Once I'm free again for the evening, I look forward to a long conversation that will catch us up on all that's happened since I saw you last. Perhaps we can walk in the garden?"

    Abigail's light flush revealed that she remembered only too well their last excursion there. She smiled widely, and David's inner groan deepened.

    Acknowledging that his rapid path toward his room constituted temporary flight from the day's many irritations, David had reached the top of the staircase when sounds of unexpected activity coming from the bedrooms drew his attention. Glancing through the doorways as he passed, he saw Margaret first, hastily dressing the bed in the guestroom nearest the staircase. Mabel was working efficiently in the next. As he approached his own room, David slowed his step. Sounds of movement within indicated someone worked as industriously there as in the previous two, and process of elimination told him there was only one other person it could be.

    A dark frown knitting his brow, David stepped into the doorway, his irritation soaring as his unpleasant expectations were fulfilled. Damn it all! This was the last straw! There was no escape from the little chit!

    Turning to draw up the coverlet, the girl jumped at his unexpected presence and gasped, "By all that's holy, are you spying on me?"

    Her question too close to the truth of his former behavior for comfort, David felt his face flame as he responded tightly, "Spying on you? This is my room!"

    There was little satisfaction in the way the girl glanced around her, as if to verify his statement. When she failed to respond, he offered with a brittle smile, "Would you like to call Margaret in here to confirm my claim?"

    Meghan's mouth twitched with the restraint of her reply. "I'll be finished in here in a minute. The coverlet"

    "Hang the coverlet!"

    "But"

    "Out!"

    The girl did not move. Certain that if the stubborn little twit didn't respond to his command soon instead of standing there, glaring at him, he'd

    Interrupting his mental railing, the girl spoke with quiet dignity. "My Ma's often said that the term 'gentleman' is loosely used these days. After having met you, Mr. David, I now know that to be true."

    Turning, the girl walked past him into the hallway, and it was minutes before David realized that he was staring after her, his mouth agape.

    Stepping back into the room, David grasped the handle of the door and slammed it shut with a force that rattled the hand-drawn, expensively framed map of the Pennsylvania coal fields on his wall, and caused his valued etching of William Penn to fall to the floor with a crash.

    And it was at that moment he realized that Meghan O'Connor's short, departing statement was decidedly profound.

    Meghan had walked several steps down the hallway when the slamming of the door behind her shattered the pregnant silence. Gritting her teeth against the anger that sound evoked, she turned into the nearest bedroom to find Margaret busy with a few, last-minute details. The older woman looked up with a frown as she approached.

    "What was that noise I heard? It sounded like a door slamming."

    "Yes, it did." When Margaret's frown darkened at her cryptic response, Meghan added innocently, "The window was open in one of the bedrooms. The breeze must have blown the door closed."

    At Margaret's nod, Meghan picked up a new set of linens and moved on to the next bedroom, her conscience sore. Well, she hadn't lied. The window
was
open in David Lang's room, and the breeze
could
have blown the door shut.

    But she knew it hadn't.

    Meghan paused, frowning as she placed the clean linens on a nearby nightstand. She'd really done it this time, all right. She    was uncertain why she had been unable to walk away from David Lang's arrogance without speaking up, but it was probably for the same reason that his nastiness seemed to be reserved for her alone. The truth of it was that the high-born nephew of the house and she grated on each other's nerves.

    Meghan was suddenly angry. But another truth was that money did not make the man, and David Lang was a cad with no more manners than the poorest tramp traveling the rails. Not only that, he was a poor judge of people, ignorant of life's true values, and vain to boot! Neither she nor her brothers had a tenth of his schooling, but he was the one who was truly ignorant. And if the opportunity presented itself, she'd tell him so, too!

    Meghan sighed. It was a hopeless predicament, for she knew that as much as she would have things different, she didn't truly regret anything she'd said to David Lang. He had deserved it.

    How such a handsome face could hide such a devilish personality, was beyond her. All was lost here for her, and as Ma often said, only an act of God could save it.

    David walked down the staircase toward the living room later that night, greatly subdued. He'd had the worst of days, and he was determined that it would conclude on a more pleasant note than it had begun. Accordingly, he had decided to take his uncle aside and voice his apology before the day ended. He was prepared to be cordial to Abigail and to exert the full force of his charm to compensate for his former discourteous behavior.

    In order to please his aunt, he had donned her favorite suit, a dark serge that she had often remarked complemented his coloring to a fine degree, and had taken great pains with his appearance. His dark hair shining, his face smoothly shaven, his eyes reflecting his serious intent, he was prepared to be congenial to all, even the aggravating Beverly Hutton, whom he found difficult to endure. These things accomplished, he would succeed in reversing the negative flow of the day, and his conscience would be set to restal most.