Bicycle Built for Two (18 page)

Dramatic
, he told himself.
Entirely too
dramatic
. The problem was, he decided a
second later, that, dramatic or not, he couldn’t make himself not
mean it.

# # #

Kate had never broken down in front of a
stranger before. Heck, she’d never broken down in front of anybody
before, if it came to that. Kate wasn’t the breaking-down type. The
fact that Alex’s arms had felt so good wrapped around her, and that
she’d wanted to stay there for the rest of her life, she knew was a
bad sign.

“Are you ready now?”

And he was being so nice about it, too. That
made it worse. “Almost.” Her throat was scratchy from tears, and
her hands shook. Alex said it was from lack of food. Kate feared he
was right, too. Darn it. She hated it when people were right about
something she’d done wrong.

“There’s no rush.”

“Stop being so nice to me, will you? I’m not
used to it.” She stabbed a pin in her hat and grazed her scalp.
“Ow.”

“I will not stop being nice to you, so you’d
better get used to it.”

“Huh.” Shoot, that had hurt. She hoped to
goodness the scratch wouldn’t bleed and get her hat dirty. She
imagined she looked like the wrath of God, even without a dirty
hat. After she’d arranged her hair and her hat, she forced herself
to face Alex.

He smiled at her. “Ready?”

“Listen, Mr. English—”

“Please call me Alex.”

Huh? After one quick spurt of trepidation,
Kate realized she didn’t have the strength to work up a good froth
of suspicion. Rather, she sighed—she’d been sighing a lot this
evening—and said, “Okay. Call me Kate.”

He nodded, still smiling.

“Okay. Alex. Listen, you really don’t need
to do this. I’ve got some bread and cheese at home I can eat.”

“You’re not eating a supper of bread and
cheese, Kate. Stop fighting me, and come along if you’re
ready.”

She mumbled, “I’ll never be ready for
this.”

“Why not?”

She flung out her arms. “Because I look like
hell! That’s why.”

He squinted at her critically. “No, you
don’t. You look fine.”

“I’ll just bet.”

She couldn’t see very well in the dark
carriage, but she imagined he was rolling his eyes. “Listen, Kate,
if it will make you feel better, you can stop off in the ladies’
room before we dine. You can wash your face or do whatever you
think needs doing.”

Ladies’ room? Dine? Lordy, she really,
really wasn’t ready for this. Feeling small, insignificant, and
overwhelmed, she said, “Very well.” It obviously wouldn’t do her
any good to balk. She’d already tried that. Nothing seemed to alter
Alex English’s course once he got his mind made up. Pigheaded son
of a gun.

She didn’t really mean that. To prove it,
she said, “Thanks.”

“Stop thanking me.”

He held out an arm, she took it, he helped
her down the carriage steps, and kept her arm in his as they walked
toward the Congress Hotel. Kate stared at the elegant facade of the
brand-spanking new building and decided she wasn’t surprised to
discover Alex was staying in it. She’d seen this hotel from a
distance. In passing, as it were. She’d never been inside. People
like her didn’t go into hotels like this, unless they were maids
hired to clean up after the rich people who stayed here. She’d
worked as a hotel maid before, but dancing and telling fortunes
paid better. She guessed she was still in a debilitated state when
her heart started pounding in trepidation.

Telling herself that she was as good as
anyone even if she was poor, that she was in the company of Alex
English, who was possibly the most respectable human being on the
face of the earth, and that nobody, not even the snobbiest and most
highhanded Maitre d’hotel would kick her out as undesirable, she
braced herself for an unpleasant experience. However unpleasant it
was certain to be, it would also contain food. Obviously, Kate
needed food, or she’d never have fainted—and how humiliating that
had been—so she would endure.

“The restaurant in the hotel is quite fine,”
he told her, as if that would be of interest to her.

It was, actually, but not in the way he
meant, Kate was sure. She didn’t want to dine in a fine hotel
restaurant. She wasn’t made for that sort of thing. “Good.”

He leaned over slightly and whispered,
“Please don’t be ill at ease, Kate. This is just a place to get
food for people who aren’t in a position to cook their own. Trust
me, eating dinner here is not anything to be uneasy about.”

“Easy for you to say.”

For some reason, when Alex chuckled, she not
only didn’t take umbrage, she actually even smiled a little. Maybe
Alex was right. Maybe she really did have a chip on her shoulder. A
tiny one. Virtually invisible.

Alex squeezed her hand. “That’s the way.
Keep smiling, and you’ll do fine.”

“Thanks.”

“Stop thanking me.”

This time it was Kate who rolled her eyes.
Nevertheless, he’d managed to ease her apprehension enough for her
to make an entry into a hotel that was at least a hundred times
more classy than she with more aplomb than she’d anticipated. She
wasn’t even embarrassed when Alex pointed out the ladies’ room.

“Here,” he said, pressing a coin in her
palm. “If there’s an attendant, give that to her.”

An attendant? Holy cow, fancy ladies didn’t
really need help peeing, did they? Kate didn’t ask. She did accept
the coin, considered thanking him, decided not to, and went into
the ladies’ room. As she’d feared, she looked like the wrath of
God. But a little soap and water, and another stab at her hair and
hat, and she guessed she’d do all right.

In spite of the glamorous surroundings,
which took more than a little getting used to, the meal was better
than any other Kate had ever eaten; it was even tastier than
breakfast had been. Alex watched over her like a mother hen,
forcing her to eat her salad and most of her beef Stroganoff, which
she’d never heard of before, but which tasted delicious. Alex told
her that some grand duke in Russia had invented it, and Kate was
impressed. She, Kate Finney, was eating something with a better
pedigree than her own. It was kind of funny, really, but when she
told Alex, he didn’t seem amused.

“Stop talking about yourself like that,” he
said sternly.

She lifted her head and gawked at him. “Like
what?”

“Like that. You’re always disparaging
yourself, and I want you to stop it. Starting now.”

She chewed on a piece of the butteriest,
most marvelous dinner role in the world and stared at him. After
she’d swallowed, she said, “Hey, Alex, you’re the one who first
said I was no good, remember?”

His glare was quite good. Made him look
formidable or something. With more practice, he’d be able to
intimidate people with more than his wealth. “I did not say you
were no good. I said we didn’t want disturbances like the one your
father caused at the World’s Columbian Exposition. That wasn’t your
fault, as you were quick to inform me.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes. You did. Several times. And, whether
it was your fault or not, we still don’t want disturbances like
that at the Exposition. The Exposition is meant to be a showcase of
American ingenuity, spirit, and know-how. It’s supposed to exhibit
the very best in America, and I’m afraid that incident directly
contradicted the fair’s purpose.”

“I guess it did.” She grinned at him. “I was
really scared of you, you know.”

His eyebrows arched like rainbows above his
really quite pretty green eyes. “I don’t believe it for a minute.
You stood your ground like General Lee at Appomattox.”

Kate forked up a piece of beef and a noodle.
“I thought Appomattox was where Lee surrendered to Grant.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Educated wench,
aren’t you?”

Kate grinned some more. “Surprised?”

“A little,” he admitted.

Kate tried to be indignant, but couldn’t
work up a good head of steam. She wasn’t surprised that Alex hadn’t
expected her to have any schooling. She guessed she did act kind of
like a hellion sometimes. Oh, very well, most of the time.

“Did you go to school in town here?”

She guessed the look she gave him was pretty
sour, but she couldn’t help it. “Where the heck else would I go?
Some boarding school in France? The nuns run a school for poor kids
in my neighborhood.”

“Ah. The nuns. You’re Catholic?”

He said the word as if he didn’t like it
much. “Yeah. You got something against Catholics?”

“Of course not.”

She didn’t believe him. She also didn’t
blame him, although she hated herself for the prejudice.

As with everything else amiss in her life,
she blamed her opinions about the religion of her forebears on her
father. The Holy Roman Church wouldn’t allow a woman to divorce
anyone even as evil as Herbert Finney. Not only that, but every
time he went crazy and hurt her mother, he claimed the Bible told
him such actions were justified because a wife was the property of
her husband, and the priest said there was nothing her mother could
or should do to stop him. He also said that her father should stop
beating up on her mother, but her father never bothered to listen
to that part.

Kate knew she shouldn’t hold Catholicism
responsible for her father’s reprehensible actions, but she
couldn’t help it. “Shoot, Alex, I’m Irish. We’re pretty much all
Catholic. More or less.”

“I see. And do you attend church
regularly?”

She shrugged. “I go with Ma when she’s up to
it. I don’t go on my own.” Lifting her chin and giving him a scowl
of defiance, she added, “I don’t believe in that stuff. I think the
church is wrong about a whole lot of things.”

“My goodness.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Don’t climb onto that high horse you’re so
fond of, Kate. I’m not laughing at you.” He hesitated for a moment.
“Ah, do you mind my asking you how old you are?”

“Why?” She tried to fight it, but Kate felt
suspicion inching its way up her spine.

“Because you act like you’re a hundred and
ten more often than not.”

If her mouth hadn’t been full of sour-cream
sauce and noodles, it might have fallen open in shock. Before she
could swallow and respond to his outrageous allegation, he went
on.

“I suspect your life has aged you quickly,
and you don’t look very old, but you must know that most young
women your age aren’t supporting their parents. It usually works
the other way around.”

“Maybe where you come from.” Darn it, she
was on the defensive again. For a few minutes there, they’d
actually been communicating like—like friends, or something.

Alex heaved a big sigh. “I suppose you’re
right. I’d still like to know your age. I understand it’s an
impertinent question and that gentlemen aren’t supposed to ask
ladies such things, but I’m curious. You have to bear so much
responsibility.”

“I’m twenty-five,” Kate said, lying.

“Really? You don’t look that old.”

“Bother. You’re a real pain, Alex English.
Did you know that?”

He only grinned.

“Oh, all right, I’m twenty-two. Turned
twenty-two last November.” She scowled at him defiantly. “Happy
now?”

“Relatively. In case you wondered, I’m going
to be thirty on my next birthday.”

“Shoot, really? You don’t look that
old.”

His grin vanished, and his frown looked
pretty serious.

“Oh, heck, Alex, you know what I mean.”

“No,” he said. “I don’t.”

“Nuts.” She flung out a hand. It was the
first spontaneous gesture she’d made since entering the Congress.
“Most men in my neighborhood are dead before they’re thirty. Or
roaring drunks.”

“Good Gad.”

She shrugged. “It’s the truth. I don’t like
it, either.”

His expression softened. “Are you worried
about your brothers, Kate? Do either of them seem inclined to take
strong drink?”

Strong drink? Kate had never met anyone who
used words so nicely. In her neighborhood, booze was booze. “No. I
think our father cured us of any inclination toward the booze.” She
grinned. “And I threatened them with an awful death if either one
of them so much as looked at a whiskey bottle.”

“Good.”

Her grin vanished and she eyed him sharply.
“My brothers are both good men, Alex. I guess you think they don’t
do enough for Ma, but they do what they can. Walter works two jobs,
and he wants to get married. He’s been putting it off for a couple
of years now, because Ma’s been so sick.”

“He must have a very understanding fiancé,”
Alex said dryly.

“Don’t sound so sarcastic, darn it. He does.
She’s a very nice person. I grew up with her.”

“Ah. And does she work as a fortune teller,
too?”

“Darn you.” If they weren’t in a fancy
restaurant, Kate might have thrown a noodle at him. “No. She works
at Wanamaker’s as a ladies’ wear clerk. I make a lot more money
than she does, but she doesn’t have my—” She broke off
abruptly.

“She doesn’t have your what?”

She’d been going to say “guts,” but guessed
that might give Alex too much ammunition. “She doesn’t have my
responsibilities. Her father is a nice man, and he supports his
family.”

“Ah, I see. That makes sense.” His
expression seemed strange to Kate, although she didn’t know exactly
why. “You’re an unusual young woman, Kate Finney.”

“By unusual, do you mean weird, Alex
English?”

He grinned, making Kate’s heart do strange,
leapy things in her chest. He had a heck of a grin. He didn’t look
at all stuffy when he grinned. “No. I don’t mean weird. I mean
unusual. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

She frowned at her carrots. “I’ll just
bet.”

“That wasn’t an insult.”

“No?”

“No.”

She didn’t quite believe him, but she wanted
to. She really, truly wanted to.