Adams, Eve - The Banished Bride [Brides of Bachelor Bay 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (13 page)

The door opened, and a tiny Chinese woman poked her head out. She wore her black hair slicked back and wrapped in a tight bun, so tight that it pulled at her already almond-shaped eyes.

When Madam Chen recognized Noah, she smiled and nodded. “You visit early today, Mr. Gallagher. I see you cross wrong man. Something troubles you?”

Noah set his jaw as he opened and closed his hand. God
damn
Andrew and his solid head. His hand hurt worse today than it did when he hit his brother. He really wished he could hate him, but Andrew had a way about him that made it impossible for anyone to hate him. If only Noah had that reaction with both sexes. No, his charm only worked on the opposite sex. Men pretty much hated him.

The jealousy he felt toward his brother grew to his expression. He saw it in Madam Chen’s eyes.

“Come, come. I fix you.” She opened the door all the way and motioned for Noah to enter with a wave of her hand. She closed the door behind him and pushed him over to a chair before grabbing his hand and studying it. She gave it a nod and then looked at his nose, and gave it a nod as well. “Nothing broke. I fix. You wait here. I finish with other man first.”

She disappeared behind a door and reappeared moments later with a bottle and a glass. “Here. This take pain away. You drink. I be back.” She disappeared again.

Noah grabbed the bottle, bit down on the cork to pull it out, and then spit it out. He wouldn’t be needing it again. For his mood, he’d need the entire bottle. Bringing it to his lips, he threw his head back and took several long pulls. With a shudder from the burn now traveling down his throat, he sank back in the chair and closed his eyes.

Amelia was at Aunt Mildred’s, more than likely still in a state of numbed shock, trying to make sense out of what had sent her there. Logan would be barking about how Noah needed to grow up and be more responsible. Gage would be siding with Logan, as would Andrew.

He was so tired of his family. Logan, the patriarch, the one who always knew best. Andrew, the charmer, the one who captivated everyone he’d ever come in contact with and with nothing more than a smile. Gage, the quiet one, the one who always went along with whatever Logan wanted.

Where did that leave Noah?

Fucked.

He brought the bottle up and drank long until he had to pull back to take a breath. He didn’t even want to know what Madam Chen had given him. All he knew was that it had started to kill the pain racing through him.

With a heavy sigh, he set the bottle down on the table off to the side. Drinking Madam Chen’s potions wouldn’t cure the problem. His brother, his own flesh and blood, wanted the same woman he did.

It wasn’t the fact that they both wanted Amelia behind closed doors. They’d already proven how well they worked together, and damn if just the thought of how good it felt still lingered in his senses.

No, that didn’t bother him in the least. It was the fact that Noah wanted her as his wife. He really wanted his name on that piece of paper. He wanted to have his name next to Amelia’s when the announcement came out in the papers. And he wanted it to be him publically celebrating their union with their friends and family.

But it wouldn’t be him and he knew it. Amelia and Andrew had a connection that Noah didn’t have with her. Andrew challenged her, and damn if she didn’t seem to love the hell out of it.

Noah just wanted to make her happy. He didn’t want to tell her no, not for anything. He wanted to give her the world, not teach her a lesson by forcing her to live with an old biddy who still thought she had the power to turn a man’s head.

He reached for the bottle, saw that he’d drained it, and let out a groan. Pushing up, he had to grab the back of the chair to steady himself. He’d forgotten how potent Madam Chen’s potions were. He staggered over to the door she’d disappeared through and opened it a crack to make sure he didn’t barge in on her doing something similar to what he’d been doing with Amelia when Andrew had barged in.

When he heard the booming voice of a man, Noah went to close the door.

“I have to get Amelia on that ship.”

Noah froze, now stone sober, and peeked through the slit he’d created by opening the door. A man, as short as he was round, with big caterpillar eyebrows that rose and fell in wild gestures, paced back and forth in a room with several clothes presses and desks adorned with sewing supplies.

“Why she so important to you? Lots of brides here. A whole new shipment coming in any day now.”

“Not like this one,” the man said and ran his sausage-like fingers through his thin dark hair. When he raised his hand, Noah spotted the deep, large sweat stains in the man’s jacket and curled his lip.

“But she promised to another,” Madam Chen explained.

The man stopped pacing and nailed Madam Chen with a glare. “Is she married?”

“Not yet, but soon.”

He went back to pacing. “Then there’s still time. I have to get my niece back to Boston before…I just have to get her back to Boston.”

Niece?
Oh, shit. The realization of who stood there bargaining with Madam Chen sank in like a thick fog on a cold morning. Robert Prescott, the uncle from Boston who’d forced Lizzie into a marriage to an old reprobate and almost got away with taking Olivia back to Boston was now after Amelia.

Over Noah’s dead body.

With a new purpose, Noah spun on his booted heel and hurried out the back door. He had to get to Amelia before her uncle did.

Chapter 9

Amelia’s Journal, Sunday, August 13
^th
, 1865

Port Steele, Washington Territory

I hate it here. This morning alone I had to unpack all of my things by myself and also tend to that old biddy’s every need. She simply needed to make her own tea. Instead she took full advantage of me and had me do it for her. When I burned my hand on the cup and accidently dropped it, she added it to what I have to work off in order to live here. I had no idea I’d have to work to earn my keep. What nonsense! I’ve never had to do a day’s work in my life. Why should I be forced to work for her? Oh, and then she had me brush her horrid cat, Peaches. I believe that cat hates me more than Aunt Mildred does, if that’s possible. Lord only knows what she has in mind for me when she returns from church. Right now I’m hiding out inside my room, which is no bigger than a broom closet. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hide, but I will for as long as I possibly can. Did I mention how much I hate it here?

* * * *

“Quick! We have to hurry!”

Noah ran into Logan’s office and stumbled to a stop, holding on to the back of the closest chair as he panted. Andrew and Logan exchanged tired glances.

Logan cleared his throat. “Are you attempting to outrun the devil, brother?”

“Quite possibly. This is a matter of life or death!”

Andrew shook his head. When it came to Noah, it was always a matter of life or death. “Are you sure the angry husbands of some of your quests haven’t finally caught up to you?”

“Joke if you will, but I assure you, this is serious.”

“Of course it is.”

“It has to do with Amelia.”

That caught Andrew’s attention. He pushed away from the wall. “What is it?”

“I was just at Madam Chen’s and spotted none other than that terrible uncle Lizzie has been warning us about.”

The power of Noah’s words sank in, and Andrew’s mouth ran dry. “You saw Robert Prescott? Here in Port Steele?” He jerked his gaze to Logan, who had the same concerned look on his face as Andrew surely had.

“Are you sure?” Logan asked as he stood.

Noah nodded at Logan. “Positive. He even referred to Amelia as his niece.”

“Son of a bitch,” Logan muttered and fell back into the chair behind the desk. He then sat straight as a board and leaned forward. “This does not get back to Lizzie, is that understood?”

“She has a right to know,” Andrew protested.

Logan nodded. “And as soon as I find out what he wants and then run him out of town, I’ll let her know he was here and gone.”

“That’s not fair,” Noah said, joining in on the protest. “Lizzie, Olivia, and Amelia have already gone through so much.”

“Exactly.” Logan nailed him with a penetrating look. “Why add to that without reason?”

Andrew and Noah exchanged glances. Andrew read the trouble brewing in Noah’s expression. There was already cause to add to the Prescotts’ grief with their uncle. “What is it, Noah?”

With a solemn look to match his tone, Noah said, “Robert Prescott means to take Amelia back to Boston.”

“Over my dead body.” Andrew growled and started for the door. “Come, Noah. We are going to pay a visit to Madam Chen’s and make sure the uncle knows exactly how unwelcome he is here.”

“Wait.” Logan brought up his hand. “This man is clearly insane if he thinks he can come back here and try this shit again. But he’s also dangerous. I refuse to have you two make Amelia a widow before she even marries. Let me talk to him.”

Andrew frowned and shook his head. “He’s not going to listen to you.”

“Yet you think he’ll listen to you?”

He didn’t have a comeback for that, so he said nothing.

“He’ll listen to no one,” Noah stated in an angry voice. “He was adamant as he spoke with Madam Chen. The man is back for Amelia. We can’t let him take her.”

Logan gave him a curt nod. “And we won’t.” He then turned to Andrew. “Find Gage. We need to talk about what to do about this.”

“And me?” Noah asked. “I should check on Amelia.”

“No!” Logan and Andrew demanded in unison.

“Why not? She could be in danger.”

“She’s not in any danger. That man won’t dare to attempt to kidnap her with Mildred around. If anything, she’s safest when she’s at the house.”

Noah clearly didn’t believe him. From the look on Logan’s face, he had his doubts as well.

* * * *

Amelia jolted to a start at the most horrific sound ever conceived. Someone played what sounded like the piano, but it also sounded as if Peaches were caught in the piano wire. Dear God, what could that be?

She raced down the hall and peered over the edge of the railing to see Aunt Mildred sitting at the piano, the offending sounds of the dying cat escaping from her wide-open mouth.

The large bags under the old woman’s tired blue eyes could house the entire Confederate army. Her blonde hair had paled and thinned from the thick golden locks it once was, yet she still wore it cascading down her shoulder in a pitiful waterfall of faded marigolds.

Amelia didn’t know whether to feel sorry for her or put her out of her misery.

Was she dying? Should she shoot her? Amelia had never been faced with a life-or-death situation. She ran back and forth along the hall, debating whether to race across the way to the Gallaghers or deal with the troubling matter alone.

No, she needed to do this on her own. Aunt Mildred could very well be dying, and Amelia should at least make the effort to be there for her. She ran down the stairs and over to the piano.

Out of breath, she gasped for air as she asked, “Are you hurt?”

Aunt Mildred hovered her fingers over the keyboard and swung those watery blue eyes up to Amelia. At first she stared at her as if not recognizing the newest guest, but then suddenly jerked her hands back and quickly closed the cover over the keys as if hiding something forbidden.