A Love All Her Own (4 page)

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Authors: Janet Lee Barton

BOOK: A Love All Her Own
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Bea helped her into a visiting dress, a pale blue crepe de chine draped to the side and trimmed with gold embroidery. By the time Bea left, Abigail thought she looked as nice as she could.

Marcus Wellington arrived promptly at three, and when Abigail opened the door to him, she was a little surprised at how nervous she was.

“Good afternoon, Miss Connors. It is a lovely day out. Are you ready to go?”

“It is, Mr. Wellington. And I am ready and looking forward to meeting your parents.” She gathered her parasol, reticule, and key. After locking the door, she dropped it in her small bag and took the arm Marcus held out to her as they went downstairs to the lobby.

He led her out to a surrey with a fringed canopy top, helped her in, and then rounded the vehicle to take his own seat. With a flick of his wrist, they were off, down Central Avenue back toward the train depot. Abigail quite enjoyed the ride while Marcus pointed out several businesses to her. A general store owned by a Mr. E. Burgauer was said to have a varied stock, and according to Marcus, the William J. Little Grocery at the junction of Central and Reserve was one of the largest in the city.

He also pointed out the post office and Cooper and Johnston’s Stationery and Bookstore. A photographer and a large jewelry store occupied the same block. And they passed several banks, too. There was so much to look at—and Abigail was seeing just part of the town. She looked forward to learning her way around.

Marcus turned off Central Avenue and made several more turns before he stopped the surrey at a large home on a quiet street. He tied the reins to the hitching post at the street and helped her down. Before they got halfway to the house, the door was thrown open and a woman who reminded Abigail of her own mother stepped out onto the wide porch. “Marcus, dear, don’t dawdle. Bring Miss Connors inside—I’ve been waiting all day to meet her.”

When Abigail stepped up onto the porch, Mrs. Wellington gave her a quick hug. “I am so glad to finally meet you, dear. You look just like your mother at your age! Isn’t she lovely, Marcus?”

Four

Abigail held her breath, waiting for Marcus Wellington’s answer to his mother’s question.

“Yes, Mother, she is very lovely. And she’s been looking forward to meeting you and Father, too, so let’s get her inside out of the heat.”

Abigail felt the color rise up her neck and onto her cheeks. She wondered if Marcus was just being polite or if he was being sincere. She had a feeling he was uncomfortable in having to answer his mother’s question. But Mrs. Wellington paid no attention and pulled Abigail inside the large foyer.

“Your father is in his study; would you go get him, Marcus? We’ll be waiting in the parlor,” Mrs. Wellington said. She led Abigail over to the right and into a parlor that made her feel right at home. It was so much like her parents’ parlor that her mother could have decorated it. Obviously, the two women had similar tastes.

“Please, dear, take a seat anywhere,” Mrs. Wellington said, sitting on the burgundy-colored settee. A tea tray laden with all kinds of sandwiches and sweet treats rested on the round table in front of her. “I’ll pour tea as soon as Marcus and his father join us. I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you are here. I’m hoping that your parents will pay us a visit soon. Although we keep letters going back and forth, it’s been much too long since we’ve seen them in person.”

Marcus and his father entered the room, and Abigail could see that Marcus looked very much like Mr. Wellington. They both had that engaging dimple when they smiled.

“Well now, how pretty you are,” the older Mr. Wellington said as he came over and took Abigail’s hand in his. “You do look like your mother. We are so glad you are here in Hot Springs and we have this chance to meet you. You were only a child the last time we saw you.”

Abigail couldn’t remember actually meeting them, so she must have been young.

“I’m very pleased to meet you all, too, Mr. Wellington. My parents think of you as among their closest and dearest friends.”

Mrs. Wellington poured their tea, and Marcus handed round a tray with delicate sandwiches and little iced tea cakes. The afternoon passed pleasantly with the Wellingtons telling her stories about her parents when they were all younger. When it was time to leave, Abigail hated to depart. The evening loomed long and lonely to her.

“We’d love to have you join us for church tomorrow and for dinner here afterward, if you would be so inclined,” Mrs. Wellington invited.

Abigail didn’t hesitate to accept. “I would love to. Thank you for the invitation!”

“Wonderful! Marcus will pick you up in the morning, then, won’t you, dear?”

“I’ll be happy to,” Marcus answered.

For a moment, Abigail’s heart skipped a beat. Then she remembered that he was actually working for her father and escorting her would be part of his job. Still, she managed a smile. “I’ll be ready. Thank you again for the invitation, Mrs. Wellington.”

“You are quite welcome, dear. We are looking forward to introducing you to our church family and others in town. We really are quite excited about having you here.”

The older Wellingtons followed them out onto the porch, and Abigail waved to them as she left. She dreaded the long evening awaiting her back at the hotel after Marcus dropped her off.

Once they were on their way, Abigail turned to Marcus and said, “Your parents are wonderful, Mr. Wellington. They made me feel very welcome. Thank you for taking me.”

“They felt the same about you. I could tell,” Marcus replied. And his parents did. It was obvious that they liked Abigail Connors from the first. Perhaps it was because she was their good friends’ daughter, but he had a feeling his parents would have taken to Abigail even if she weren’t. “Thank you for going to see them.”

“I’m glad I did—and that I get to see them again. Are you sure you don’t mind picking me up and taking me to church—”

“Of course not. I’ll be happy to. I’d be—”

“Oh yes,” Abigail interrupted. “I’d almost forgotten you are being paid—”

“Miss Connors, I’d be happy to take you to church even if your father hadn’t hired my agency to protect you while you are here.” Marcus had a feeling that he knew what she was thinking and wanted to assure her. “I will be more than glad to take you to church and back to my parents’ home for Sunday dinner.”

She was silent for a moment, and then she said, “Thank you. I will be ready.”

“Good.” Marcus hoped that she’d seen she was more than just a client to him. “Since there is that family connection, do you think we might be able to call each other by our first names?” He grinned at her, hoping for a smile.

“I suppose we could. It would certainly be easier if we are to see much of each other while I am here.”

“Oh, we’re going to see each other, Abigail—aside from the fact that my firm is in charge of protecting you, you are also a friend of the family.”

“Then we can go by first names. Marcus it will be.”

He liked the way she said his name.

“Well then, Abigail, would you care to have dinner at your hotel with me tonight?”

“Marcus, you don’t have to watch me every waking hour.”

“I know that. The invitation wasn’t part of the job. We both have to eat, and I often eat at the Arlington. The food is excellent.” They arrived at the hotel just then, and the topic was dropped for the time being. Marcus, however, had every intention of getting back to it.

He helped Abigail down from the buggy and walked her inside the hotel. But before he saw her to her room, he took hold of her arm and steered her toward Morgan, who’d come into the hotel just ahead of them. Marcus had let him know earlier that he could take a few hours off. Now he was sitting in a chair that had a good view of the staircase, reading—or pretending to read—a paper.

“Morgan, I thought Miss Connors should meet the men I have assigned to her. Miss Connors, this is Alan Morgan. He is on day duty this weekend.”

“How do you do, Miss Connors? Be assured that if you need anything, I’ll be right here.”

“Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I’m glad to know who you are and that I can call on you if needed.”

“Anytime, ma’am.” The agent bowed at the waist.

“Your relief will be here shortly, Morgan, and I’ll be talking to you later.”

“Yes, sir,” Morgan said. He went back to his paper as Marcus led Abigail away.

He accompanied her up to her room and took the key from her. After unlocking the door and giving a look inside, he handed the key back to her. “You know, you never answered me. Will you have supper with me? We both have to eat, and while those little sandwiches my mother served are delicious, they didn’t do much to fill me up.” He looked down at her with a grin.

“I’d like to change first. Can you wait for me to do that?”

She looked up into his eyes, and Marcus felt something he’d never experienced before. He wasn’t even sure what it was. He only knew he badly wanted her to say yes, and he’d wait for however long it took.

“I can. Will an hour be enough time?” He’d wait longer if needed.

“Yes, I can be ready by then.”

“I’ll be back up to get you”—Marcus looked at his watch—“at seven o’clock.”

“I’ll be ready.”

He nodded and turned to leave, grinning as he did so. He didn’t have much time either, if he was going to change and get back by seven.


Abigail was extremely proud that she’d managed to get ready with five minutes to spare before Marcus would be knocking on her door. Thanks to Bea’s help earlier that day, her hair still looked quite nice. And due to Bea, all of her frocks were pressed and ready to choose from, so it made an easy time of it for Abigail. Thankfully, she didn’t have to change undergarments, and she chose a dress of peach satin with a brown overskirt that draped to the back. She’d just finished putting on her jewelry when Marcus arrived.

From the look in his eyes, she felt she looked quite presentable.

“You look lovely.” He smiled into her eyes. “And I am starving. Are you ready?”

“Yes, I am. And I’m a little hungry, too.”

“I told you those little sandwiches don’t fill one up. Let’s go.” He took the key from her and locked the door behind them before handing it back to her. She took the arm he offered, and they descended the stairs and walked to the dining room.

Abigail had thought she’d been treated well the night before, but evidently coming in with a gentleman did gain one a higher level of service. Or perhaps it was because of the man she was with. Marcus seemed to garner respect wherever he went. She’d noticed it from the train depot to the hotel clerk and bellboys, and now—here at the restaurant. They were seated at a table in front of the windows, where Abigail could be seen as well as see most of the other diners in the room. She took the seat the waiter held out for her and glanced around. Satisfied that she was dressed in a similar style to the other women in the room, she felt herself relax, only briefly letting herself wonder why it mattered more tonight than it had the night before.

They looked over the menus the waiter had left. “I had the veal last night, and it was delicious, but I’d like to try something different tonight.”

“I can recommend the filet of beef with scalloped potatoes
and brown sauce,” Marcus said. “It is one of my favorite
dishes.”

Abigail scanned the menu before nodding her head. “I’ll try that, then. Do you really eat here often?”

“I do—several times a week, in fact. It’s near my apartment and office.”

“You don’t eat at your parents’?” Abigail was curious about this man who’d been hired to protect her.

“Of course I do. But many times I am working late or in a hurry, and it’s easier to eat out.”

The waiter came back to the table, and while Marcus gave him their order, she was able to look at Marcus without his knowing. He looked quite handsome in his black wool suit and crisp white shirt. She could feel the color creep up her face when he looked back to see her watching him, and she quickly turned her head and looked out the window while he finished their order.

She liked Hot Springs at night. The streetlights made it easy to see who was out and about, and she felt almost as safe as when she was at home in Eureka Springs. But was that because of the lighting outside or the man across from her? She knew. Much as she didn’t want to admit it—and sometimes resented it—part of her was glad that Marcus Wellington was in charge of her safety.

“What time do you want to start checking out the bathhouses on Monday?” Marcus asked once the waiter left the table.

“I thought around ten in the morning.” Abigail had slept in that day, but normally, even if she was up late the night before, she was a fairly early riser. And even if she weren’t, she wouldn’t want Marcus Wellington to think she was lazy. After all, she’d promised her father that she would check into things for him, and he would want to think she was acting in a professional way.

“That should be a good time. If not, I’m sure you can set up appointments with the managers for another time.”

“That is true. It isn’t as if I have to do it all in one day.” After
all, she had no intention of going back home anytime soon.

Their first course of cream of asparagus soup arrived, and while they ate, Marcus pointed out several people he knew. Actually, it was more than several; it seemed he knew most of the people in the dining room. She supposed it was no different than when she was out in Eureka Springs. She’d been born and raised there, and while she knew many people, she couldn’t recall ever being treated with such open respect and friendliness as she’d seen Marcus treated with. It wasn’t a thought she wanted to explore—not at the moment anyway—and she was relieved when the waiter brought the next course and broke into her thoughts.

The filet of beef was the most tender she’d ever eaten, and she was glad Marcus had suggested it. “This is wonderful. I can see why it is one of your favorites.”

“I’m glad you like it. Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me. It’s nice to have company.”

Abigail had a feeling he could have company any time he wanted, but she didn’t say so. “You are welcome. I don’t really like eating alone, either.”
Now why did I say that
?
Marcus didn’t need to know that.

“I’m sure you don’t have to do it often. And once you meet people here, you won’t need to anymore. I’m sure you’ll have invitations from many people and keep me quite busy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I will be the one accompanying you most of where you go while you are here.”

“I’m sure you have more important things to do. I assumed you’d assign one of your agents to watch me.”

“I thought about it, but I’ve decided to do that myself. You are the daughter of the man who helped me start my business. My father makes a good living, but I didn’t want to take money that he might need in his own business. Your father loaned me money when no one else would. . .not to mention that he is an old family friend. And I’m sure that by the time you leave Hot Springs, you will be considered a family friend in your own right.”

While Abigail hoped he was right—she really liked his parents and could see why her parents regarded them so highly—she reminded herself that in escorting her around town, Marcus would only be doing the job her father was paying him to do. That thought dampened her mood somewhat, and she was glad that their dessert of orange and cream coconut cake was served so that she didn’t have to talk—but she found she’d lost her appetite. She mostly pushed the cake around on her plate until she looked up to find Marcus watching her.

“Are you all right? This cake is delicious, and you’ve barely touched it.”

He really had the most brilliantly blue eyes Abigail had ever seen, and looking into them did funny things to her heart. “I guess I’m still a little tired from the travel and all.”

“That is understandable. Would you like some coffee or tea before we leave?”

“No, thank you. I’ve asked for tea to be brought to my room each night before bedtime. It helps me sleep better.” At least it usually did. Abigail hoped it would settle her down tonight and make her sleepy. She didn’t want another night like the last one.

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