Independent Brake (The Dominion Falls Series) (9 page)

“I was going to suggest the same.” Kat released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Only I was concerned you wouldn’t agree.”

“I admit being disappointed that I won’t be able to wander down the hall and fulfill a need as I’d imagined all this morning.” Patrick grinned when both Delphie and Kat began to chuckle. “I believe I’m capable of controlling such urges, though.”

“You are a man. Somehow I think that might be more difficult than you’re letting on.” Delphie winced, and leaned down. “Ow. You beast, kicking a woman like that.”

Patrick laughed. “So sorry. My foot slipped.”

Kat shook her head, and returned the favor by kicking Patrick in the shin as well. “Behave, sir.”

“I think you can both agree that’s no fun.” Patrick leaned closer. “So what say thee, my Kat?”

“I say you said you’d wait for my answer.” Kat might have been convinced already, but she wasn’t about to give Patrick the satisfaction of winning. “So you will wait, at least until I’ve had the pleasure of your company a few more times.”

“A parting coupling. Oh, how fabulous.” Delphie giggled, ignorant to the shocked protest of the table behind her when she spoke quite loud.

“Delphie,” Kat tried to chide through her amusement. “I didn’t say that.”

“What are my ladies’ plans for this evening?” Patrick changed the subject, though his grin had grown. “There is a new singer at Milty’s Burlesque. I hear tell she’s French and
très magnifique
.”

“Sounds marvelous. Are the Masked Men still part of the show?” Kat enjoyed the act of male acrobats quite a bit, and she knew Delphie did as well. Their feats of strength were quite a feast for their libidos.

“Of course they are, you minx.” Patrick shook his head. “What say you, Delphie? Will you be able to join us?”

“I’m not quite sure yet. Usually on work nights Charles is home at least for a few hours. I might be able to get him off to the casino in time to make it for the show.” Delphie tapped her finger to her lip, then nodded. “Save a seat, if you can. I’ll do my best to make it. I’d like to see the Masked Men again.”

“And you women call me a rake.”

* * * *

T
hree weeks into her new living arrangement, Kat wondered why she’d ever balked at the idea. In Patrick’s home she had her own washroom, freedom to do as she wished; and Patrick agreed to her terms of hiring her own chambermaid, which still cost her less than the boarding house each month.

The sexual side of their relationship had fallen to the wayside, and while Kat did miss it sometimes, their friendship was ever stronger for the change. In fact, he’d seen to introducing her to a few of his friends so she might choose to soothe her own urges from time to time. As of yet she’d had no urges for any of them, but they served their own purpose for company and laughter when Patrick was off on his own courting adventures.

Kat went so far as to purchase herself a horse, and often went for rides to the lake, or out beyond the city. The more she explored her new-found freedoms, the more she longed for more. She wanted to travel the country, and perhaps one day return to Dominion Falls, if for no other reason than to show Cole what his help had given her.

Maybe even to thank him properly, as he’d once suggested.

For the time being, though, she was content to remain in Chicago with her dear friends, and live her life as enjoyably as she could. Patrick had guessed at her wandering eye on occasion, but didn’t push the matter. She had a feeling he didn’t care for her to disappear from his life as his sister once had, and she didn’t plan to ever quite disappear like Bessie had.

For her, Patrick was family now, as was Delphie. Her life was rather full with them and her own pleasures. There was hardly time to breathe, or feel the loss that had plagued her in quiet moments before.

“Sorry I’m late.” Patrick leaped into the carriage, red cheeked and hair poking out from under his cap.

“Oh, Patrick.” Kat chuckled. “If you’d bothered to straighten your hair, I might have thought business kept you late.”

“Oh, but business did.” He wagged his brows and straightened his cravat. “Just not the business you are referring to.”

“What horrible wench has tried to ruin my Patrick this time?”

“It was tragic, it truly was. She enticed me with a flash of ankle, and a peek of shoulder. Men weaker than me would have caved sooner. I stood firm long as I could, fair Kat...but alas, I was lost to the tide of male urges not designed to be denied.”

“You poor soul. Clearly you had to, elsewise you might have perished.”

He draped his arm across his forehead and drooped with dramatic aplomb.

“The tragedy.” She clasped her hands to her chest. “How did you escape her clutches? The siren clearly tried to shatter your soul with her wanton ways.”

“I put up a right good fight, and almost lost my whole self to the bewitching creature. I don’t remember a thing after her come-hither call.”

“Will you be able to survive to make it to the burlesque? Then again, perhaps that’s not a good idea.
Mademoiselle
Sabine might be a siren in her own right. You might never make it through another call, especially one so strong to bring you back to the burlesque week after week.”

“I shall persevere. For you must see your Masked Men, and I would release this last wisp of soul for the sweet dulcet vocalizations of the eloquent Sabine.” He sat up and removed his cap. With several practiced movements, the unruly locks were tamed.

“Much better.” She could barely contain her laughter at the pleased flush that lingered on his cheeks. “You still haven’t told me who distracted you?”

“Pearl.” Rather than look her in the eye, he returned the hat to his head, his gaze out the window.

“Pearl? Truly?” She tilted her head. “You moved fast with her.”

“She moved fast with me.” An unusual smile lit his features, one unlike she’d seen him wear discussing any other woman he pursued, or vice versa. “I have not yet fully figured her out yet. At first I thought she might be like you were. Curious.”

“We all are, some are just more brazen about it.”

“She is not from a well-to-do family. Perhaps she just hopes I’ll do for her what I have done for you.”

Kat shook her head with a frown. “I don’t believe she is the sort, Patrick. If you wish, I’ll see if I can’t find her motives out for you.”

“I would not want you to feel I was using you.”

“Not at all. I don’t care to see you hurt or used. I’ll make a better acquaintance with her, and see what I can’t learn.”

“Thank you.” He sagged back against the seat, releasing a heavy breath.

“Patrick?” Kat leaned forward to touch his knee. “Do you find you’re beginning to care for this one?”

“It has been only three weeks. How can I tell? It normally takes longer to woo, and I have a better idea of whether I could care for them by then. This time, I haven’t had a chance to breathe. I gather she is independent, as you and Delphie are.”

“Which you are attracted to in a woman; but you question her motives which gives you pause. I see your conundrum.”

“Precisely.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Until then, please tell me you’re ready to enjoy tonight. For we’re here, and Delphie is waiting for us.” Kat placed a kiss on his cheek. “Remember, thou art Patrick Warner, a rake without care.”

“I shall be, my fair Kat. As I always am.” He grinned and returned her peck on the cheek with one of his own. “Thank you.”

“Pshaw.” She waved him off and jumped from the carriage. Before he’d disembarked, Kat had rushed into Delphie’s waiting hug. “He’s distracted by Pearl, so we’ll have to distract him from that tonight. Tomorrow we’ll learn her motives?”

“Understood,” Delphie whispered back. She turned to Patrick and kissed his cheek. “Mr. Warner. So good to see you again this evening.”

“And you, as always, Miss Dell.” Patrick bowed, then held out both elbows. “Shall we?”

Kat took one side while Delphie took the other. They strode into the burlesque together, all smiles. For the night they’d laugh and carry on in merriment as they always did at the burlesque. There would be more than the stage show.

For once, Kat hoped that the woman in Patrick’s life would remain. She’d never seen him quite so flustered, and she thought he rather needed it. Her only hope was that she’d learn Pearl was just as independent as she was. That no deception or plot had formed.

If deception was afoot, Kat would defend her friend with her whole heart. She didn’t want any of her circle hurt. Ever.

* * * *

“C
ome now, Kat! We’re going to be late,” Patrick bellowed up the stairs. “You’ll look stunning as always, but we still have to pick up Pearl and Delphie both. If we’re late we won’t have a place to stand.”

“I’m coming.” Kat glared at her reflection. The suffocating summer heat meant her hair was refusing to behave in any way, shape or form. Unruly curls spilled out of every attempt to tame it.

Patrick’s snort from the door let her know he’d caught her mid-frustration. “What, exactly, is that?” He poked at the pile of misshapen curls like it might bite him.

“Hush.” Kat pushed at the mass, and then sighed. “I give up. Go without me.”

“Never.” He circled her, his mirth giving in to a frown. “Why not leave it down?”

“You can’t be serious. If you think this is horrible, leaving it down would be worse.”

“Maybe not. Maybe it just wants to be free. Most wild animals do, you know.”

“Patrick Milton Warner. You be nice!”

“Sorry.” He set his hands on her shoulders. “You stopped wearing a corset two months ago. I know it’s not propriety making you wear your hair up.”

After months of debate, and one encouraging nudge from Patrick, she had ceased to wear the infernal contraption she despised so much. She hadn’t been alone either; Pearl had joined in her bit of rebellion.

Pearl wasn’t quite a member of their little group, for she had her own friends, but she was a fairly regular accompaniment to their party. Kat was impressed with how Pearl had managed to keep her distance from Patrick enough to maintain the relationship between them. While Kat knew neither was the marrying kind, they seemed content with each other’s company often enough to say they might stick together. Plus, they gave each other enough freedom to find pleasure elsewhere should they care to.

Kat smoothed her hands across her bodice. “Going without a corset is not so obscene, for most people don’t notice. Everyone would notice this.”

“Try it.” Patrick shrugged. “It can’t be worse than this.”

She flinched when he poked the chaotic mass of hair again. With a begrudging sigh, she reached to tug out the pins. Once she’d freed the curls, they dropped down her back like tumbleweeds across a prairie in a storm.

Amid her protest, Patrick grabbed the brush and smoothed it over her hair. He moved fast, wrenching out knots before she could wince from the pain. When he finished it wasn’t at all elegant, but she knew the knots were out. He shrugged. “Best I can do.”

“You are such a man.” She snatched the brush from his hand and stuck out her tongue at his reflection. With quick strokes, she did her best to tame the unruliest of the curls. Inspiration hit and she grabbed a ribbon from the counter. She wrapped the bright green strip around her hair and pulled the ribbon into a knot, and bow, at her nape.

Patrick nodded his approval. “Lovely as always.”

“We’ll see if it holds. My hair has never cared much for the moist summers here.”

“You can’t see mine under this hat. It isn’t much better, just shorter.”

While they were on the subject of hats, she grabbed one of hers. She set it on her head and tied the ribbon under her chin. “There.”

“Now let’s go. Pearl and Delphie will be most upset with us if we don’t manage to glean good seats to see the races.” Patrick snatched her hand and tore down the stairs.

Kat could barely manage a squeak of protest to his handling before they were in the wagon. Breathless, she adjusted her hat again, tucking the ribbon behind her ears. If she wasn’t worried about the wind near the lake she’d not bother with the ribbon at all. “Will we be staying for the fireworks?”

“That’s the plan. It’s glorious to celebrate Independence Day. Especially with the end of the war. Everyone is truly celebrating again, instead of the reserved celebrations of the past few years.”

Kat, like everyone else, had breathed a sigh of relief when Lee had surrendered several months before. Unlike everyone else, she knew why Patrick had relaxed, and why he’d never joined.

Despite his airs and accent, Patrick was the Georgia-born son of a slave owner. When the first grumblings of war had come, his father had turned tail and headed north. They’d abandoned a fully running plantation chock-full of slaves and remade themselves in Chicago. The reason Patrick and his sister never spoke is because she’d returned to Georgia, embarrassed by her father, and married a man who had since died in the war.

Patrick had feared his own sister’s death for most of the war, but she’d survived according to his sources. His parents, however, hadn’t stopped running in Chicago. They’d left for England and left Patrick, who’d refused to go with them.

Of course, Patrick was a smart young man, and though he was only a few years older than Kat, he’d managed to maintain his wealth even during the war. He’d managed to get wealthier, too. She knew he had his hand in several industries, from war materials to land, and she envied his prowess.

“Have you tried again?” She knew he often tried to reach his sister, but more so since Lee’s surrender.

“It’s of no consequence today.” He tapped her knee. “Here we are. I’ll get Pearl and we’ll go to the celebration.”

Kat didn’t push further. He was right; tonight was about celebration.

First boat, and then horse races, and the many confectionary delights of the celebration. Then her favorite part: the fireworks.

Tomorrow she’d worry more about Patrick. Tonight they’d be free.

* * * *

T
he next morning Kat struggled to get out of bed. Somehow she managed, and made it to work right on time. To her disappointment, Delphie didn’t quite manage to make it to work. Kat didn’t have time to worry, for Delphie’s absence meant Kat had to do her job for her.