The Runaway McBride (28 page)

Faith was in her bedroom, examining the frock she had worn to the lecture, when Margaret and Aunt Mariah breezed into the room. She looked up and held out the dress so that they could see the skirt.

“Millie is a miracle worker,” she said. “Look, there’s not a mark on it.” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word
blood
. “How did you do it, Millie? ”

The maid colored and beamed. “I tried everything, miss, but I think it was the spirits of wine that did the trick.”

Aunt Mariah took charge. “Yes, Millie is a wonder, which is why I pay her a fortune so that she won’t be lured away from me.”

Millie giggled and allowed herself to be shooed from the room.

Two pairs of eyes were then trained upon Faith.

“What? ” she asked.

“Your secret is out,” declared Aunt Mariah severely.

Margaret came forward and gave Faith a hug. “We met Mrs. Hughes on Bond Street, and she told us that it’s common knowledge that you and James are engaged. Of course, we couldn’t deny it, but it did come as a bit of a surprise. We thought it was a secret and that you were waiting to hear from your uncle in Ireland before you announced your engagement.”

Faith sank slowly onto the bed. She was remembering Mr. Hughes at the lectern and how he had branded James publicly as the man who was engaged to marry Madeline Maynard’s daughter.

She looked at Margaret and saw nothing but pleasure in her eyes. Aunt Mariah’s stare was more penetrating. Her eyes might have faded with age, but her shrewd intelligence had not dimmed one bit.

How, Faith asked herself, had she got herself into this mess? And how could she defend a course of action that now seemed indefensible?

It wasn’t a course of action. It was a course of inaction. She should have told James’s family straight out from the very beginning that she and James were not engaged.

But that was what she had done. So where had she gone wrong?

“It’s like this,” she said. “James and I made such a debacle of things when we got engaged all those years ago, that this time we want to be very sure before we commit ourselves. All we need is a little time to get to know each other again.”

Margaret, ever the peacemaker, said, “That sounds sensible, doesn’t it, Mariah? ”

Gradually, Aunt Mariah’s hard stare softened, and the beginning of a smile touched her lips. “Very sensible,” she agreed, “but don’t wait too long before you make up your mind. It wouldn’t be fair to James or to us. You see, Faith, we’re beginning to think of you as one of the family. It would be a terrible wrench if you were to leave us.”

When the ladies left, Faith stared into space, thinking, thinking, thinking.

 

 

She bided her time and waited until just before bedtime
before she went in search of James. He was in the library, looking through photographs of trains.

He looked up with a smile. “I was just thinking how we could add a passageway to our trains so that it would be possible to get from one end of the train to the other when it’s moving.” He stopped when he saw her face. “What is it, Faith? What has happened?”

She took the chair closest to his. “Margaret and Aunt Mariah met Mrs. Hughes on Bond Street,” she began, and she went on to tell him how it was becoming common knowledge that they were engaged to be married. “It was Mr. Hughes’s announcement from the lectern that did it. I’m sorry, James. I didn’t know how to answer Aunt Mariah, so I let her think that all we needed was a little time before we decided, well, whether we could make a go of it this time around.”

She looked at him expectantly. Though she would hardly admit it to herself, she was hoping he would say something profound.

He looked at the photographs in his hands and set them aside. “No harm done,” he said. “I think you handled it really well.”

That was all he had to say? The only thing that was profound was her sense of letdown, and that made her angry with herself. What had she expected—a declaration of undying love? He was obsessed with trains. Even now, surrounded by books, he chose to look at photographs of trains. No woman could compete with that.

He was looking at her warily, as though he expected—what? Tears? A temper tantrum? She forced herself to sound pleasant when what she wanted was to find a dark corner where she could mope in private. “I didn’t handle it. I postponed the inevitable.”

He frowned. “What does that mean? ”

“You must see,” she said, “that I can’t stay here. We’re deceiving your family, and that is so wrong. Aunt Mariah and Margaret, I’m sure, will soon start planning our wedding. We can’t build up their hopes only to dash them. The sooner I leave, the better.”

“Leave? Have you forgotten about those villains who attacked you?”

“I’m in the clear now, aren’t I? We’re both in the clear. Whoever killed Robert must have the diary or he has destroyed it, so we don’t have to keep looking over our shoulders all the time.”

His eyes narrowed on her. “What difference does that make? ”

She let out a long, impatient sigh. “You’re not usually so obtuse. The villain must know that I’m no longer a threat to him, so I can take up the threads of my own life.”

He gave a disbelieving laugh. “And do what? Go back to St. Winnifred’s? ”

Anger shot through her, and her breathing quickened. “There’s nothing wrong with St. Winnifred’s, but I haven’t decided what I want to do. I have a little money of my own. I can get by until something else comes along.”

“I know what it is,” he said. “You want to be like those women you’ve put on a pedestal: your mother and all her like-minded friends.”

When she got up, he got up as well. “You hypocrite!” she flung at him. “It’s all right for a man to be ambitious, but let a woman try to make something of her life, and all she gets from you is scorn. You should admire them, James. You have so much in common.”

He stood there glaring at her for a long moment. Finally, he heaved a sigh. “You can’t leave yet.” He spoke over the protest she tried to make. “The danger isn’t over, and it won’t be over until we live through the nightmare I dragged you into. I told you. I’m a seer. I see into the future, and I know that you and I are going to be in that derelict house with a cold-blooded killer hot on our trail.”

“What? ” she was bewildered.

“The dream we shared? That’s in our future, Faith. We’re going to live through it, so we can’t go our separate ways.”

She sank back in her chair and looked up at him with wide, questioning eyes. “You said that it was only a dream.”

“I know. I didn’t want to frighten you out of your wits. What with Danvers’s murder and everything else, I thought you had enough to contend with.”

She couldn’t take it in. All she could do was shake her head.

He went on. “That’s the reason I tracked you down. I knew you were in danger.” She looked puzzled, so he elaborated. “I knew you were in danger before I met you in Pritchard’s Bookshop. I was given a mission. I was sent to save your life.”

“My life? You told me it was only a dream to warn you of danger.”

“No. That’s where it will end, but until then, I’m going to make damn sure that no one hurts you or maims you.”

She linked her fingers and sat with her head bowed as her mind grappled with all the implications of what he’d just told her. When she thought she had herself well in hand, she looked up with a cool smile. “I thought there must be more to it than you told me. What was it you said? That your only purpose in seeking me out was so that we could put the past to rest.”

“I meant that, too. But I couldn’t tell you the whole truth at that point. What was I to say, that I’d had a premonition and would do everything in my power to keep you safe? You would have laughed yourself silly and shown me the door.”

She gave a low chuckle and twitched her skirts. “I see your dilemma. I suppose I should be flattered. You pursued me with the same tenacity that you always employ in the pursuit of your goals. But James, was it really necessary to take me to bed?”

His contrite expression was quickly changing to one of annoyance. “I thought that was what we both wanted.”

Her reasonable tone was rapidly edging toward irate. “What
I
wanted? I didn’t stand a chance against you. You play to win, and it doesn’t matter who gets hurt in the process.”

She jumped to her feet and made to pass him. When he reached for her, she gave him a hard shove and sent him staggering back on his heels. It felt so good that she shoved him again. All her anger and disappointed hopes surged in a wave, and words tumbled from her lips in a torrent.

“Now you listen to me, James Burnett. I don’t want to become your mission in life. Do you understand? Whether you had come into my life again or not, I intended to find out what happened to my mother. I’ve been glad of your help, more than glad, but I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

“I understand. Just make sure you understand me.” His voice was hard, his eyes were blazing. “Until this damnable affair is put to rest, you’ll do as I say. I’ll not have you turning up bludgeoned to death like Robert Danvers. I’d blame myself, and I refuse to have your death on my conscience.”

His reference to Danvers made her flinch.

“Yes,” he said. “I’d rather have you frightened than have to identify your broken body.” He ended hoarsely, “It could have been you in that damn boathouse.”

When she started to shake, he captured her wrist. “Faith,” he said thickly, “we shouldn’t be quarreling like this. Let me take you to bed. When we make love, things have a way of sorting themselves out. Come to bed with me, Faith. It’s what we both want, isn’t it?”

That was when she punched him on the shoulder with her balled fist. When he released her, she danced out of his reach. “You! You!” She was having trouble finding words scathing enough to express her feelings.

James kept a wary eye on her as he rubbed his shoulder. “There was no need to hit me,” he said moodily.

Bosom quivering, her voice low and intense, she choked out, “Ah, but I wanted to get your attention. I wanted to make sure that this time
you
would listen to
me
. You don’t have to take me to bed to make me compliant. You don’t have to frighten me into doing what you want. You’ve made your point. I won’t strike out on my own just yet.” She pointed a shaking finger at him. “But no more of your unprincipled tricks. I won’t go to bed with you.” She marched to the door and flung it wide. “And stay out of my dreams.”

Surprise held him motionless, then he went running after her. “Faith! It wasn’t a trick. You can’t believe that.”

He stopped when his brother filled the doorway. Roderick looked as though he’d just returned home from a long night of debauchery. When he saw James, he propped himself against the doorframe and leered suggestively.

“Does this mean the wedding is off? Jamie, Jamie,” he shook his head, “you may know how to run a business, but you know damn little about women. Would you like me to give you a few pointers? ”

James had had enough. He slammed the door in Roderick’s face and stomped to the table where he’d left the train photographs. He stared at them absently for a moment or two, and then, with one vicious swipe, he sent them scattering to the floor.

Faith wore her darkest dress to the funeral service, a bottle-
green crepe that was far too hot for the summer months but was suitable for the occasion, and with the black accessories she’d borrowed from Margaret, who had decided to stay home and nurse a cold, she hoped she would not look out of place. James kept his hand on her elbow as she entered the carriage, and that made her feel a little better.

They had set aside their differences in order to solve the mystery of who had killed Robert and why. James believed that the more they knew before the dream became reality, the better prepared they would be. She didn’t know what she believed. In her saner moments, she was willing to allow that she’d had a frightful nightmare that was similar to James’s nightmare. On the other hand, she couldn’t explain away how James seemed to be there whenever she needed him. What was not in doubt was that James took his premonition seriously. Better safe than sorry, until James was proved wrong, seemed a reasonable compromise.