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Authors: Sydney Jane Baily

Tags: #romance, #historic fiction, #historical, #1880s, #historical 1880s

BOOK: An Irresistible Temptation
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He spurred his mount into a gallop, hoping
that the dry breeze would blow away the lascivious thoughts in his
head, thoughts that were sending heat shooting straight to his
groin. He ought to be hanged for even thinking them.

The thundering hoof beats beneath him merged
with the memory of Sophie’s piano playing. He took a deep breath,
puffed out his cheeks and released it. The music he’d heard when he
walked up to the Sanborn home had gone right inside him and grabbed
his heart. It was so sad and so beautiful at the same time. Like
Sophie.

And then she’d played only for him—complex
music that seemed to build and grow and expand in the room. It was
as if she were giving him a gift with each note, each chord. How
could he
not
kiss? He’d been compelled to. He still was.

He’d meant what he said to Sophie. It seemed
unimaginable never again to experience what he’d felt when holding
her. He certainly hadn’t felt anything like it before, not with
Eliza and not with any other woman he’d ever touched. And he
couldn’t know for sure, but he was fairly certain that Sophie had
felt something, too.

But what in the hell could he tell Eliza that
wouldn’t destroy their carefully negotiated engagement? Absolutely
nothing. He wouldn’t disappoint her for the world, and the option
to sweep away his obligations simply did not exist. Nor could he
ever bring himself to hurt a woman whom he had known his entire
life and who trusted him.

In the end, he’d lied to Sophie, hadn’t he?
He had no choice but to live without her. If he was smart, he’d
never go near her again.  

 

*****

 

“Done and done,” Sophie said, brushing off
her hands while Sarah mopped her own forehead with a
handkerchief.

“We did it.”

“Yes,” said Sophie, feeling satisfied.

“We should have asked for help, perhaps.”
Sarah eyed the two trunks in the back of the wagon; it had taken
them nearly ten minutes to push them up the makeshift ramp they’d
created.

“Yes, but we didn’t.” Sophie didn’t want to
ask Riley for any favors. He was not her man, and Doc was busy.
“Let’s get them to the platform.”

“And then we’ll come back for the other
one.”

Sophie looked at the last trunk. If they
could make the ramp higher . . .

“Forget about it, girl,” Sarah said, guessing
Sophie’s thoughts. “It won’t take but a few minutes to get to the
station, unload, and come back.”

As it turned out, they didn’t have to do it
by themselves. Dan from the feed store was loading sacks when they
arrived at the platform .

“Good day, ladies.” He tipped his hat to
them. Before they knew it, he’d not only unloaded the trunks
destined for Boston, but scooted with Sophie back to Charlotte’s
house to get the last one.

As they turned the wagon in to Charlotte’s
homestead, Sophie, seated next to Dan, heard horse’s hooves.

“Hey-ho, Riley,” Dan called out. Sophie
turned to see him, but except for staring in their direction and
raising his hat, Riley made no answering call. Sophie wanted to
tell him why she was driving with Dan to her home, feeling
uncomfortable that he might get the wrong idea.

The next second, she realized how silly that
was. How could she care about the opinion of a man who had
two-timed his fiancée by passionately kissing her?

But she did.

 

 

Chapter Six

 

Sophie went to the post office in the general
store for two days in a row, hoping to receive Charlotte’s missive.
She had seen neither hide nor hair of Riley Dalcourt, which had
made her a tad edgy, though she knew it was for the best.
Temptation had never been her friend
—she remembered how
she’d been sick on chocolate as a child and on absinthe in Paris,
much to Philip’s amusement.

She had to admit that every fiber of her
being would like to be kissed by Riley again, but every moral fiber
of her soul knew it was wrong. She would avoid temptation and its
consequences, she vowed.

As she had not heard a bloodcurdling scream
from the direction of Eliza’s house, Sophie figured Riley had not,
in the end, said a word to his fiancée about their kissing. She
assured herself that was for the best. But what if she ended up
being neighbors with him and his new bride in San Francisco?

Ridiculous!
What a silly notion. In
such a large city, if she indeed decided to go, she might never run
in to them at all. Why, even here in Spring, she hardly had set
eyes on Eliza since the train accident. And then her luck ran
out.

“You-hoo,” Eliza called to her as she stepped
out of Webster’s.

Sophie considered breaking into a run. After
all, the woman had packages in her hands and could easily be out
maneuvered.

“Sophie,” Eliza called out again, and Sophie
slowed to a stop, just as Eliza planted herself right in her
path.

“I want to say I’m sorry for my behavior in
the restaurant.” Eliza’s pale blue eyes were peering up at her
sincerely.

“No, please don’t,” Sophie said, realizing at
once that being apologized to by someone whom you have actually
wronged is about as uncomfortable an experience as sitting on a pin
cushion. She felt as if, somehow, Eliza would see evidence of
Riley’s betrayal, written on her own guilty face. “I mean, it’s
unnecessary.”

“Yes, it is necessary,” the petite blond
continued. “I have a temper and I use it without thinking.”

That seemed rather self-aware for someone
whom Sarah Cuthins seemed to think was a spoiled brat. On the other
hand, if that was the reaction when all Riley did was eat a meal
with another woman, what would Eliza do if she discovered his
latest indiscretion? Sophie didn’t want to find out. All she could
do was smile in what she hoped was a friendly way.

“Well, to make it up to you, I want you to
come to my house for dinner on Saturday?”

That was a surprise!

“Well, I . . . uh . . . hm.” Sophie could
think of no plausible excuse. Except . . . “I may have already left
Spring City by then. But thank you, all the same.”

“Oh, so soon.” Did Eliza look happier? “But
if you’re still here, then you’ll come? Yes?”

“Well, I’ll have to check with Sarah. I may
have mentioned I’d dine with—”

“Oh, Sarah won’t mind one way or the other,”
Eliza interrupted. “Please say yes. It’s the least I can do.”

“All right, then,” Sophie said at last, not
seeing any way short of leaving town that she could get out of
it.

“Wonderful,” Eliza crowed, as if she meant
it. “And do bring Riley’s friend Dan. I hear you’re sort of sweet
on him.”

At Sophie’s open mouth, Eliza added, “I can
invite him separately if you like.”

“No, I’m not; that is, please don’t—”

“Well, it can’t be only you and me and Riley.
We need a foursome, and Daddy can’t join us for dinner.”

Sophie blanched. Now it was a dinner party of
four?

“Then it’s settled. You go ask Dan and we’ll
see you on Saturday. Ta-ta.” And she was gone.

What the devil just happened?
Sophie
watched Eliza walk back toward her house. Why did Eliza suppose she
liked Dan? Unless Riley had mentioned seeing them together. How
odd! But Eliza was right. They certainly couldn’t have a dinner
with the three of them. It would be the height of discomfort. It
would be bad enough with the four of them, but at least Dan would
be a distraction. He had not only been helpful with her trunks,
he’d displayed good humor, as well.

And Sophie had to admit that a little society
would be welcome. She knew Charlotte had survived here with not
much besides Sarah for companionship, but Sophie was used to
friends gathering in each other’s parlors back home and, certainly,
parties. She also couldn’t deny she was intrigued, if not eager, to
see Riley again. Perhaps she would find there was nothing between
them after all; that it had been a peculiarly tempting situation
which, upon seeing him once more, she felt no inclination to
repeat.

So she found herself asking Dan to dinner on
Saturday.

He looked stunned, then gladdened by the
invitation.

“You know, it’s been a long time since I was
inside the Prentice house. It’ll be interesting, I reckon.”

“I reckon,” Sophie murmured under her breath,
having never used the word before. He picked up a sack of grain and
hoisted it over his shoulder heading to the back of Drew’s store.
The ground sloped sharply away at the back, and the rear door led
to a deck built on stilts.

“You can see over the whole valley back
here,” Dan told her, inviting her to look.

Sophie ventured after him, to see the view
she’d experienced from the train when she’d arrived. It was lovely,
but so empty, with nothing on the horizon but trees and mountains.
She missed the city, no doubt about it. Right then, movement on the
right caught her eye.

As the ground sloped away and curved right,
it met up with Main Street and the Prentice house was a few blocks
down. Part of the house was visible from where she stood but mostly
she could look down into the back yard that stretched on forever
until the cultivated area ended and the wild landscape began. And
in that yard were Eliza and Riley, walking toward a small flowerbed
with a bench and behind it, an arbor. Sophie was transfixed.

They stopped and she held her breath. Their
heads were bent close as if talking, and then she watched Riley put
his hands on Eliza’s tiny waist, pulling her against him. He had to
bend way down because she was so short in stature. Sophie gasped,
almost feeling Riley’s hands on her own waist. Their lips touched,
and she turned to flee the deck. She bumped into Dan’s chest.

“Steady,” he said, and then looked past her
shoulder. She turned to see Riley and Eliza were still kissing.

“Woo-wee,” he said. “Those two are usually
colder than an ice house in February. Something has sparked his
fire all right!”

Sophie managed to murmur something
incomprehensible about needing to get home and succeeded in making
her escape.

 

*****

 

With extra special care, Sophie dressed in
the best dress she’d brought with her—a satin gown in violet, her
favorite color, which contrasted well with her dark hair. It had a
form-fitting cuirass bodice, giving her a slim silhouette, with a
small train and a hint of a pad for the bustle.

She pulled her hair up and back on top and
left the rest to cascade over her slender shoulders. It wasn’t
Parisian or London fashion, she thought, eyeing herself in the one
small mirror resting on the dresser, but it would definitely do for
Spring City.

She heard the wagon and couldn’t help wishing
it were Riley picking her up.

“Stop that,” she scolded her image sharply
before going downstairs. Dan knocked once and she opened the door
to his appraising gaze.

Then he laughed. “Oh, Miss Sophie. Eliza
won’t like that, not one bit. Oh no, she won’t.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

He shook his head. “This is gonna be
interesting, that’s all I can say.” And he offered her his arm.

The Prentice house was fastidious, from the
tidy front porch with plump pillows on the swing and rocker, to the
cool tile entry way with its hallstand and vase of freshly cut
flowers. Nothing was out of place. Except Sophie, who wanted to be
just about anywhere else, than walking into Eliza’s parlor.

They were greeted by a housekeeper, perhaps
Mr. Prentice’s nurse, and the aroma of roast pork. A few steps
farther in and she saw Riley, whose jaw clenched tightly as he took
in her appearance, his eyes clearly appreciative. He stood up from
the sofa with a tentative smile for her and a firm handshake for
Dan.

“Eliza,” Riley called out, as if a husband
summoning his wife, and she came from another room, wiping her
hands on a kitchen towel that she dropped on the credenza.

She had on a simple, well-made dress in the
best blue to bring out her light eyes and matching ribbons in her
hair. And startling to Sophie, Eliza wore a spotlessly clean and
pressed white apron tied around her waist. No doubt, it was for
effect and not for cooking. She was the picture of domesticity. The
perfect housewife.

Sophie felt too tall, overdressed, and even
garish.

Eliza came to stand by Riley, resting her
hand on his sleeve.

“So glad you could both come,” she said,
eyeing Sophie’s gown. Her nostrils flared slightly, but she kept a
smile in place. “I guess they dress up more for a friendly dinner
than we do here,” Eliza commented. “You look so lovely, doesn’t
she, Riley?”

Oh my God.
Sophie felt herself
blanche.
Does she know?

She watched Riley swallow, as his eyes
flicked over her from neckline to hem. “Yes, she does.” It took
Sophie a moment to realize he was answering Eliza and not her own
unspoken question.

Sophie was only glad that Eliza hadn’t
stepped forward to kiss both her cheeks as would have happened in
Boston, no matter the level of friendliness or enmity.

“Mr. Freeman,” Eliza said to Dan who took her
hand awkwardly, obviously unused to dinner parties. He held it,
looking unsure whether to kiss it or shake it.

“Miss Eliza,” he mumbled and let her hand
drop. Then he added gallantly, “You look fine yourself.”

Eliza smiled again, but it was clear to
Sophie that it was not genuine. She glanced at Riley and found his
brown eyes were locked on hers, until she lowered her gaze. Nothing
about this felt right.

“Let’s sit, shall we?” Eliza said, moving
away from the silent group. “Riley, why don’t you get everyone a
drink. I made some punch. And dinner is almost ready.”

Sophie didn’t miss Riley’s quizzical glance
at Eliza. Apparently, this was not their everyday circumstances. It
was too “normal.” And if she’d gleaned one thing about Eliza
Prentice, it was that she was a hellion, willful, spoiled wildcat,
not a simpering female who was happy to cook a meal for her
man.

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