An Improper Situation (Sanborn-Malloy Historical Romance Series, Book One) (20 page)

Home, Boston, close to Reed
. Charlotte doubted that Mrs. Belgrave would simply bow quietly out of his life; she could probably be quite convincing when she put her mind to it, especially if her reputation were at stake.

“
She is known as your fiancée? I mean, in Boston? She introduced herself as such, and John confirmed it.”

“
Yes, we’re acknowledged as a couple,” he admitted. “I suppose it’s assumed we will marry eventually. She favors the lifestyle that I keep, the society that I move in. Though, in truth, over the past year or so, I believe she preferred it far more than I did. But Helen knew that we were a pragmatic couple at best, useful to each other.”

“
Useful?” Charlotte repeated, thinking of many uses Reed could have for a woman such as Helen.

“
No, you goose,” he said, plainly reading her thoughts. “Having Helen on my arm kept every mother with a girl of marriageable age from calling at my door, leaving cards, sending invitations, and assaulting me at functions. She has played her part perfectly and warned off any number of women—”

“
You have been much burdened by pursuit,” Charlotte said, her voice dripping with the sarcasm she felt.

Reed’s sigh was audible.
“For many men, it wouldn’t be the worst encumbrance, I know, but for a previously confirmed bachelor.” He shrugged.

“
Why a bachelor, Reed?”

Her quick blunt question caught him off guard. She could see it in the vulnerable expression that overtook his features. Then he visibly relaxed.
“Why? Because no woman ever measured up to my first love.”

Charlotte’s eyes opened wide. She had not expected that.
“Was it very painful? When you broke up, I mean?”

He looked grave.
“It was always painful. She used to pummel me mercilessly, lecture me, demonstrate my lesser intelligence by constantly showing me up in front of my father. But we have never broken up.”

Charlotte gasped just before she realized that he was jesting. He laughed.
“My first love was my oldest sister, Elise, now married and with two babes of her own.”

She did not miss for an instant the fact that he had quickly sidestepped the issue of why he preferred bachelorhood.  

“So this . . . relationship with Mrs. Belgrave is a platonic one?” Charlotte asked, willing now to know the whole truth. She’d come this far and all his answers had been less painful than she’d anticipated.

He looked directly at her without guilt, but had the grace to flush slightly with embarrassment.
“I am a grown man, Charlotte, and Helen is not without her charms.”

Charlotte cringed at that, having seen just how physically charming Helen was, and not wanting to think of Reed doing with her what they had done.

“The answer to your rather indelicate question,” he continued, “is that I have not been a monk, and Helen Belgrave has not minded . . . an occasional tryst, not that she seems to gain the same pleasure from my touch as you do.”

Oh, God, he was comparing them!
She covered her ears with her hands. “How can you say such things aloud?”

“
Well, how can you ask such things?” he sounded angry now. “I am not a young boy; I am a man with desires and urges like every man. I am not in love with Helen Belgrave, nor have I ever been; and though I have taken her to my bed,” he added, “I did not take her innocence.”

“
Obviously not,” Charlotte snapped. “She was a widow.” He raised his eyebrow and she remembered what John Trelaine had said about the aged Mr. Belgrave. It was possible that Helen Belgrave had come out of her marriage as pure as she’d gone into it—however pure that was.

Charlotte shook her head; it made no difference to her if Mrs. Belgrave had gone to her marriage bed already deflowered or if Reed had made her a merry widow. Indeed, if Charlotte were to marry tomorrow, she would no longer be the exemplification of innocence either.

“I should not be discussing the lady in question,” Reed said, “and I wouldn’t with anyone but you. She has been a good diversion at times, even a companion, but despite our supposed engagement, when it comes down to it, she is not the kind of woman with whom I want to spend my life.”

Reed frowned.
“Not her or any of her kind. However, I am sure there are many men who would be happy to have her. And now,” he said pointedly, “I don’t wish to discuss her further.” He crossed his arms.

Charlotte looked up at him. Suddenly, she wanted to be alone in her quiet study to consider his words, improper though they’d been for him to utter. The idea that he would ever discuss her virginity with anyone was beyond bearing.

As for the rest of it, she had known he was an intelligent man from the first few moments they met. She’d even sensed he could be persuasive, if not downright manipulative, and that he used those powers in his profession. However, she had not before thought of him as coldly calculating, though surely he would have to be in order to maintain a relationship with a woman for three years just to keep others away. And then to dismiss her so quickly and so callously.

He had a hard look about him now, staring at her with those sapphire blue eyes and considering. Then he stepped closer again.

“The children,” she said lamely, retreating a step and then turning toward the house. Good Lord, she’d almost forgotten about them, playing so close by in the front yard. So far, she did not rate her mothering skills very highly for the day. Her brain felt as if it was made of oatmeal.

“
Yes, the children.” His tone turned serious, as he fell into step beside her. “Charlotte, as I said, I’m relieved that you’ll be raising them. I know, after seeing you with them, that it’s for the best. However, John and I had a talk this morning over breakfast. He confirmed that their grandmother has threatened to contest the will.”

Charlotte started to protest, but he interrupted.
“For now, they are yours as specified by their mother, and you should act accordingly. I don’t believe that a judge will override Ann’s wishes in any case, given Alicia’s age. However,” he paused, and made her stop beside him.

“
What?” she queried, not liking the seriousness of his expression.

“
It would be best if it did not become known that a single man was staying with you. Morally, you must be above question.”

She should have been angry. She should have told him that it seemed a bit late for his consideration along those lines, and it would be no thanks to him if anyone did question her morals.

Instead, she asked the question that was uppermost in her mind, “You’ll be leaving soon, then?”

He nodded.
“On the morning train with John. I’ll stay at the hotel tonight,” he added, glancing away from her. But then he faced her. “I have to return to my law practice before clients begin to wonder whether I still represent them or not. As John reminded me this morning, I’ve got responsibilities elsewhere.”

Breathe normally, keep calm,
she told herself, fighting to quell the desperate sadness that seized hold of her heart. Not even one more night with him. She put her hand up in pretense of shielding her eyes from the sun, but, in reality, she could not meet his gaze for fear that he would see the emotions there.

What if he pitied her? Soon, it would be just as before—no man’s razor on the sink, no male laughter, no one to lean on when she felt the need, no warm touch.

“We’d better return or Lily and Thomas will wonder where we’ve gone.” She started to walk again.

“
Charlotte,” he grabbed her hand and held on. “I don’t know when we’ll have a private moment again, and I want to address what you said earlier about what I think of you.”

She lowered her gaze to the ground, feeling the heat creep up her neck again. He raised her chin with his other hand and looked into her verdant eyes.

“What happened between us was unusual, but not just for you, for me, too. In fact, it was extraordinary.”

When he had brought a timid smile to her face, he continued,
“I have never for a moment thought of you as anything less than the most intelligent, most upstanding lady I have ever met. Yet, I also know that you are keeping a passionate spirit held tightly in check, and I wish I could stay to coax her out again.”

“
As do I,” she said, with complete honesty. “But you have a life in Boston, and I knew that from the beginning.”

“
And I asked you to consider coming there,” he reminded her.

She could not lie at this moment.
“This is all I have ever known, Reed. I would be lost. Nothing much scares me these days,”
except being haunted by the thought of your touch for the rest of my life,
“but starting over in the city seems overwhelmingly frightening. I have never used my sex as an excuse, but I am sure it would not be easy for a woman alone to start over again.”

“
You are all of twenty-four, let me remind you, Charlotte Sanborn, not seventy-four. But I understand your desire to stay where your family raised you. You must have close ties to this land. I would feel the same about being asked to leave New England. But if you ever change your mind, I would be more than happy to . . .,” he trailed off.

She sensed he was battling with something more he wanted to say. She watched him take a deep breath and run his hand through his thick hair. Then in a quick movement, Reed brushed his thumb over her slightly parted lips.
“I’d be happy to help you settle there and to introduce you into Boston’s social circles.”

It was not the impassioned plea she might have hoped for, nor was it liable to change her mind.

*****

Later, she sat on the porch swing where he had kissed her so fervently the night before and she replayed his words. If only he had said it differently. If only he had asked her to move east for his own sake, she would probably do it—and full chisel at that, confessing how little love she felt for this house where she had known only loneliness since she was young.

If only he had made it sound as though she would hold a special place in his life and not just be someone he would introduce to others so as to make her feel welcome. If only . . .

She shook her head at her own romantic notions. Hadn’t he kept company with Helen Belgrave specifically to ward off marriage seekers? Why would she fancy that he could want to tie himself down now to a wife and children?

Reed had dropped her hand as they’d approached the house. It had not taken him long to pack. Both Thomas and Lily cried. Since their mother’s death, he had been their only constant. He hugged both the children long and hard and promised to write to them. “Mind your Aunt Charlotte, both of you,” he said, his eyes locked on hers.

Charlotte couldn’t speak with the lump of tears balled up in her throat. She could only listen carefully to his words, noticing the mistiness in his own blue eyes as he ruffled Thomas’s hair and squeezed Lily’s small hand.

She was surprised when, in front of the children, he hugged her—it was firm and quick—and then he was gone. He’d given no intimation that he would return, even for a visit. After all, she reminded herself, ultimately, this was just business.

Though Reed Malloy had let it get personal, she had a feeling he would now chalk it up as a task accomplished. He had disappeared down the road in the vehicle he’d rented from Spring City’s livery, leaving her and the children in a cloud of gloom.

Charlotte realized she would have to do something, and fast. “You know what this means?” They shook their heads, looking morose. “Well,” she said, taking each one by the hand. “You each get your own room. And we’re going to start rearranging them right now, just how you want them.”

Their trunks would be arriving in less than a week, thanks to Reed’s promise to telegraph Boston before he left. He would also deposit a large sum of money in Charlotte’s account for their upkeep. Money would arrive at regular intervals and she was to telegraph him if there was an emergency.

It all seemed to have worked out so perfectly—except her heart was on the train heading east with a man who hadn’t asked for it. 

Gently, she swung and closed her eyes, laying her hands over her stomach. She had found, after Reed left, a package on her bed containing one pre-filled syringe containing a solution marketed to
“married ladies.” She knew what it was for, knew what it contained, mostly vinegar and lemon juice. She should use it as soon as possible, just in case, but so far, she’d done nothing but put the note that accompanied it into her jewelry box:

Charlotte, I didn’t intend to be careless. Please forgive me. If anything should occur, let me know immediately. Yours, Reed

She swung gently, looking up at the stars. For the time being, her passionate spirit, as Reed had called it, was doomed to stay hidden from the rest of the world, for the one man whom she cared to share it with would soon be thousands of miles away.

Boston, Massachusetts