Fool for Love (Montana Romance) (5 page)

“What?”

“Because you don’t have to try so hard, you know.”

“Ma’am, I can assure you-”

“Amelia may talk refinement, but she’s as much a woman of the world as the rest of us.”  She gestured to the parlor and its frilly decorations.  Eric noticed that the ladies in the painting above the fireplace were stark naked and dancing with some fellow that had goats legs.

Eric cleared his throat.  “I ain’t seen Amelia do anything improper at the Hamilton’s house since I’ve been there, ma’am.  Fact is, she’s a finer lady than most that I’ve known.”

Sophia smiled with a wolf’s confidence.  “This wouldn’t be the first time she took to her back for money, you know.”

Eric stared at the woman, dumbfounded, wondering what kind of mother would say that about her own daughter, about Amelia.

“It’s true,” Sophia went on as though gossiping with a crony.  “This man, Nicholas Hayworth, her so-called betrothed.”

“Yeah, I met him,” Eric drawled.

“She spread her legs so she could get her hands on his money, you know.”

“What?”

“Oh yes.  Mind you, she didn’t get the money in the end, but if the rumors are true she got something else from him.  Something I doubt you would want to be stuck with.”

Eric let out a breath on a frown.

“I take it she didn’t tell you about her condition?”

“As a matter of fact, she did, ma’am.  I know she’s expecting.”

Sophia’s moment of surprise was followed by a huff of disappointment.  A second later it was replaced by th
e devious light of a new idea.

“Let me propose an arrangement, Mr. Quinlan.”  Sophia switched back to being friendly with him once more.  “It could be damaging to your reputation to be seen in company with an unwed mother.  I will do my best to quell the rumors and keep my daughter’s connections a secret from those you might find yourself doing business with in London and in Montana in exchange for a small stipend.”

“Excuse me?”

“You may not be buying my daughter, but perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement for my silence on the matter.”

Eric blinked at her.  “You want me to give you money so that you won’t tell people Amelia’s having a baby?  That I helped out a woman who comes from family of whores?”

“Well, if you must put it so indelicately.”  Sophia batted her eyelashes.

Eric stood and strode to Olivia’s chair to fetch his hat.  “If you’ll excuse me, ma’am, I may not be all that bright, but I’m not stupid.  And I don’t pay bribes to whores.  Besides, everyone at that ball already knows the truth.”

“Mr. Quinlan!”  Sophia flew up from her seat on the sofa.  “Perhaps you misunderstand me!”

“Yeah, I doubt it.”

Sophia grabbed his arms with pinching fingers as he tried to get around her.  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Mr. Quinlan.”

“I think I do, ma’am.  That’s why I offered to help.”  He was more determined to get Amelia out of this world than ever.

“She has no sense of loyalty whatsoever,” Sophia growled, gloves definitely off.

“Is that so?”

“It is.  She will turn her back on you and leave you high and dry the first chance she gets, so don’t think you’re going to keep her.”

Eric glared at the woman, but before he could protest she said, “She left her family.  Look at the condition we’re in.  If she doesn’t care about us, she won’t care about you.”

“Ma’am, I’m not asking her to care about me.”  Eric stepped past Sophia into the hall as Olivia stood to follow.  “Maybe if you’d tried to help her she woulda stayed loyal and not run off to something better.”

“A leopard does not change its spots, Mr. Quinlan,” Sophia said, cold as ice.  “My daughter will never change.  She will always be who she is.”

“Miss Amelia!” Eric called up the stairs.  “We’re going!”

When he turned back to face Sophia she had her hands on her hips and fury in her eyes.

“Be it on your head then,” she tossed at him.  “Reputations rise and fall in this world on a dime.  If you had any hopes of going into business here….”

“Ma’am, I’m leaving this upside-down country on Friday, so I don’t see what my reputation matters anyhow.  And any hope for going into business that I had already been dashed before you started spouting your nonsense at me.  Maybe my cousin Curtis is right and I just don’t have a lick of business sense.  But I have common sense, and common sense says you don’t treat your family like yesterday’s garbage, no matter what troubles they get themselves into.”

Footsteps sounded in the hall above him, heading for the stairs.  Before Amelia could reappear he finished with Sophia by saying, “I reckon getting Amelia out of this crazy place is the best thing anyone’s ever done for her, and I’m not saying that outta self-pride.”

“But … but you can’t just walk out of here and take my darling daughter away from everything she’s ever known!”  Sophia changed her tune, darting her glance to the top of the stairs and putting on a long-suffering air.

Eric might have been inclined to feel a morsel of pity for the woman if her eyes hadn’t then dropped to his coat pocket.  It was a damn shame what some people would do for money.

“Miss Amelia!” he shouted up the stairs.

“I’ll thank you not to shout at me, Mr. Quinlan.”

Eric had never been so relieved to have someone tell him off in his life.  Amelia and Eve appeared at the top of the stairs.  With more dignity than he figured the house had seen in years, Amelia floated down to the front hall.

“Come on.  We’re getting out of here.”

Manners or no, he grabbed her hand and marched her to the door.  He threw it open and continued out into the rain before he could remember to fetch the umbrella.  It didn’t matter.  He had no intention of laying eyes on Amelia’s crooked family again.

He didn’t let out his breath until they were secure, if wet, in the carriage.  He couldn’t say a word to Amelia.

“My mother was a pill, wasn’t she.”  Amelia finally started the conversation as the carriage drove away.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he replied.  There was no way he was going to repeat what Sophia had told him.  There was no way he would pay a word of it any mind.  If only he could forget about it.

Chapter Four

The
Majestic
rose up out of the water in its Liverpool dock with all the glory of its name.  Amelia held one hand to her hat and stared at its iron sides, its two dun-colored funnels and three tall masts.  The ship was a strange thing to her, a mixture of old and new, progress with hints of the past.  It had sails that could be unfurled in a pinch, but with its powerful new engines, the ship could cross the ocean in a week.

Seven days to a new world.  It was an exact description of everything her life had become.  It was every bit as daunting.

“What am I doing?” Amelia whispered, staring at the hopeful monstrosity in front of her.  It was one thing to accept an offer for a new life.  It was another thing entirely to go through with it.

She turned away from the ship, swallowing the nausea that had plagued her since she’d left her mother’s house.  This time it wasn’t morning sickness.  That was long past.  At the moment, the baby was the least of her worries.  Her stomach rolled over the idea that she was about to board a ship heading for a new life at the mercy of a stranger, a man, no less.  The last time she had trusted her life and her future
to a man had been a disaster.

She paced, purse clutched to her chest, scanning the busy dock in search of her American savior.  Men, women, and children crowded the gangplanks, eager to start their journeys, excited and hopeful.  Many of the third-class passengers carried bundles that indicated theirs was a one-way trip as much as hers was.  Eric had left her there to go buy her ticket, but there was nothing stopping him from running off and leaving her stranded.  Like her father.  Like Nick.  She was a fool to agree to this.  She pivoted and marched away from the ship.

No, she stopped herself after a handful of steps, this was the best decision she could have made.  She may have felt small and lonely standing by herself, waiting, heart and stomach fluttering, but she was as much a part of the intrepid adventurers seeking a new life in America as any of her fellow passengers.  This was right.

Maybe.

“Well, we got a minor problem on our hands.”

The twang of Eric’s accent shocked Amelia from her worries.  She spun to face him as he approached her with wide strides, scratching his head and lo
oking as guilty as a schoolboy.

“A problem?” she asked, voice fluttering.

“Yeah.  I went to buy you a ticket, but they’re plumb sold out.”

Amelia’s chest tightened and her tender stomach lurched.  “Oh
.  Oh dear.  Well I suppose….”

She lowered her eyes, heart aquiver.  As quickly as it started, her chance for a new life was over.  All that worrying for nothing.

She squared her shoulders to face her fate.  “I … I thank you for your efforts on my behalf regardless, Mr. Quinlan.”

Eric’s brow crinkled into a curious frown.  “Regardless?”

“I suppose I could find work here in Liverpool,” she explained.  “Surely there must be a shop somewhere that would look the other way from….”  She lowered her hand to the mound of her stomach.

Eric’s lips twitched.  The morning sunlight caught in his eyes.  “I didn’t want to have to put you in third-class, so I told them you were my wife.”

Amelia blinked.  “You what?”

“I told them we’re newlyweds.  I reserved my stateroom in first class last year when I came over.  Good thing I paid for it then too, ‘cuz after this fiasco of a trip I’ll never ride first-class again.  Anyhow, when they said they didn’t have any more rooms, I told them you were my wife and that we would be staying in the same stateroom.  They sold me a ticket for that.”  He handed her a fresh, clean ticket with her name written as ‘Mrs. Amelia Quinlan’.  “Sorry.”

Amelia held perfectly still on the outside, but on the inside her heart pounded and her stomach rolled with guilt for questioning him.  He wasn’t abandoning her.  He had gone out of his way to help her.  Her heart squeezed as it never had before.  She took the ticket from him with a trembling hand, hardly noticing when her fingers brushed his.  She was rescued after all.

“Thank you, Mr. Quinlan.  You have no idea how much this kindness means to me.”  She had to concentrate on breathing, standing straight, and looking up into his handsome eyes with a smile to keep her tears at bay.

“You don’t mind sharing then?” he asked her.

If it had been any other man, if it had been Nick asking the question, she would have been loath to agree to such an intimate arrangement.  But Eric Quinlan was the most selfless, artless man she’d ever met.  She owed him so much.

“I’m only sorry that you have to put up with me,” she answered, her chest warming from the inside.

He broke into a smile.  “It’ll be my pleasure, ma’am.”  He offered her his arm.  “We’d better get up to the first-class boarding deck then.  Oh, and you might want to get into the habit of calling me Eric, seeing as we’re newlyweds and all.”  He followed his comment with a wink.

Amelia took his arm.  It was a lifeboat in a storm.  “Thank you, Eric.”

She would find a way to repay him.  After a gesture like this, she had to.

They made their way through the crowded dock to the first-class gangplank.  The world of the higher decks was entirely different than the world below.  Amelia had felt out of place and over-dressed in her new linen traveling frock amongst the third-class passengers.  Ten minutes later, amongst the travelers on the higher decks, she felt as though she stuck out like a shabby sore thumb.  The women around her wore silks and lace with feathers in their hats like they were on display.  The gentlemen sized Eric like a rival who had been found wanting.  Eric didn’t seem to notice.

“Boy I tell you,” he began, his drawl as pronounced as ever, “I sure will be happy to see the tail end of this place.  No offense meant.”  He corrected himself as soon as he made his statement.

“No offense taken,” Amelia replied.  She was glad to be leaving herself, if she was honest.

“Truth is, I don’t think I was made for this kind of fine and fancy life,” Eric went on.  “It’s too closed in and laced up.  There’s too many rules that I can’t seem to follow.”

“I know the feeling,” she muttered in reply as they joined the queue for the gangplank.

“I miss the freedom of the wind in my hair and a horse between my legs.”  He sighed.  “You just don’t get that same feeling around here.”

“I know.  I used to ride in the country,” she told him.

“Did you?”  His smile grew.

She nodded.  “Growing up.  We had a country estate.  I used to go riding almost every day.  That was before my father’s unfortunate demise,” she finished and glanced down.

“Oh.”  Eric scratched his head with an awkward wince.

They moved forward in the queue.  A little boy behind her in a crisp sailor suit leaned over the railing to look at the dock below.