Charmed By Knight (The Fielding Brothers Saga) (26 page)

From a nearby saloon, gunfire boomed through the air. She jumped and pinned herself against the closest building. Across the street, three cowboys stumbled from the saloon, laughing and each clutching a bottle of whiskey. One spotted her and stopped. His eyebrows lifted and a lecherous grin touched his mouth. There was no mistake what he wanted – the very thing he would never get from her.

Megan’s heart hammered, her chest threatened to cut off her supply of air. Perhaps she’d been too hasty in venturing the town without her maid. She needed to get out of here...
soon
.

She glanced down the street. Two buildings away a sign grabbed her attention. City Hall. She hurried to the red-bricked building, hoping the cowboy wouldn’t follow.

When she arrived at the door, she smoothed her hands down her dress and patted her hair into place. She opened the door and stepped inside.

A fine looking gentleman sat behind the first desk, bent over some papers as his fingers moved the inked pen in rhythm. He held a cheroot between his teeth, and his brow was furrowed. Once the door closed behind her, his hand stopped and his head snapped up. She’d never seen such curly blond hair on a man, or such a long mustache. When his blue-eyed gaze rested on her, he withdrew the cheroot from his mouth and smiled.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” He stood, his gaze roaming over her. Interest was evident in his soft eyes and widening smile. She’d seen that look before plenty of times on Edmund’s face.

She smiled. “Good afternoon, sir. I am Mrs. Knight, and I just arrived from England.”

The man stepped forward. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. I hope you enjoy yourself in my fine city. I’m Mayor Williams, and if there’s anything I can do for you or your husband, let me know.”

“What luck.” She laughed. “You are the very man I’m looking for.”

“Really?”

She stepped closer. The smell of leather and vanilla blended with his cheroot and filled the air around him. “Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Williams. It pleases me to know you will help me. Unfortunately, my husband died before my trip, and left me with little funds.” She clutched her reticule when nerves shook her hands. “I wondered if there is a school in this town where I can work. I would make an excellent teacher. I’m very educated, and I also speak Latin and French.”

“Why, Mrs. Knight, you have certainly come to the right place.” When he grinned, the dimple on his chin became more apparent. “In fact, I have been thinking about that very thing this past week. We do have a school, and the population in this town is growing so much, we’re in need of another teacher.”

Her heart hammered against her ribs, and she feared she would lose her breath. What luck! “Fate must be guiding my steps then.”

He laughed. “It certainly is. How soon can you start?”

She wanted to laugh out loud and her chest wanted to burst with happiness. Instead, she tried to keep a controlled physical appearance, back straight, chin held erect. “Is tomorrow soon enough? I have not located a place to stay. Right now I’m at the Fielding Tower Hotel, but I fear the price is too steep for my budget.”

Mr. Williams chuckled and stepped closer. He clasped her hands in a hearty shake. Large hands, but very soft. Obviously, he wasn’t used to hard labor.

“Mrs. Knight, there’s no need to worry over such trivial things. There’s a small house behind the school where you may live.”

She gasped. “Are you jesting?”

“Of course not. There will be plenty of room for you, I assure you. I will have it cleaned and ready for your arrival tomorrow.”

“I have my maid with me.”

“There is room for her as well.”

“But, Mr. Williams, what about the other schoolteacher? You did mention another person, am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“Where will that person live?”

His smile relaxed, his hands squeezed hers gently. “That person is a man, Mrs. Knight. He already has a place to stay.”

She narrowed her eyes.

He nodded. “You see, I’m the other schoolteacher.”

* * * *

The empty bottle of whiskey dropped from Edmund’s hand and rolled across the silver-blue carpeted floor. It moved farther and farther from his heavily cushioned chair, but he had no desire to stop it. The bottle would join the others scattered across the rugs in his study. He’d been through three, or was it four, today? He wasn’t used to having a woman reject him, especially the way Megan had done.

But Megan wasn’t just any woman. She was the only woman who could make his body warm with yearning, make his lips tingle with sensitivity, and his hands itch to touch her and hold her forever in his arms. Yet she was more than that. She could make him laugh, and make him want to protect her always. He’d admired her stubbornness – although at times it irritated him – yet her will to succeed was strong, and that was refreshing to see in a woman. She had succeeded in doing something no other woman had done before. Melt his heart.

Indeed, Megan Ramsey was a woman he’d not likely forget, no matter how much liquor he poured down his throat.

His head lolled against his shoulder as he stared at the miniature fire in the hearth. The devil laughed at him...he could see his evil face through the flames.
Even Satan mocks me!

The tapping at his door sounded like thunder echoing through his head, but he couldn’t muster the courage to demand the noise to cease. When it stopped, he heaved a sigh of relief until his butler poked his head around the door.

“Sir? Someone is here to see you.”

“Otis, tell ‘
em
ta leave. I don’t want
comp’ny
.”

“I did try telling him that, sir, but he insists.”

It took great effort, but Edmund tried focusing on his servant. “Otis? Why are there two of
ya
?”

His butler shook his head. “No, there’s only me.”

“Well then, tell the other one of
ya
ta
go
away.”

Wringing his hands, Otis glanced over his shoulder. “Master...umm...the Duke of Ashton is here. He demands to see you, sir.”

“Ah-ha! The duke, you say?” Edmund eventually worked his wobbly arms to help lift him from the chair. The floor tilted and he swayed. He fell back in his chair with a heavy thud. “These blasted legs. They won’t work.” He reached down and slapped his numb knees.

“Um, sir? Shall I show the duke in?”

“Yes. Maybe he can ‘cipher why my legs have turned ta cotton.”

Edmund concentrated on making his legs stiff again, but they only drooped to the side. Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to move. He’d been sulking here for five days...a few more days wouldn’t matter.

For three weeks he’d searched all over England for Megan, but to no avail. It was as if she’d dropped right off the face of the earth. Finally, he admitted defeat. He’d been holed up in his study ever since.

“Knight! Good heavens, man, what are you doing?”

Edmund dragged his attention to the man calling his name. Although Edmund’s lips felt like weights, he struggled to smile. “Your Grace. How are
ya
, old chap?”

Nick stopped in the middle of the room, pushing aside an empty bottle with the toe of his boot. “It’s refreshing to know you can still speak.”

“But of course, my good man. Now
walkin
’…that’s a
diffrn’t
story.” He slapped his legs again.

Nick strolled over and stopped in front of him. The straight line of his mouth let Edmund know his friend wasn’t happy.

“Why, Knight? Why are you letting a woman torment you this way? I have never seen you in such a state.”

Edmund shrugged. Betrayal and anger surged through him, making his thoughts more articulate. “I’ve never seen me in such a state either. But the wench cast me off like some old, worn shoe. How dare she, after all I’ve done for her.”

Nick sat in the chair next to him and narrowed his eyes at Edmund. “Yes, let’s name everything you have done for her. First, you lied to her, letting her think you were
Kelton
, then you tried to seduce her at the woodsman’s cottage. When that didn’t work, you took out her beaus, one-by-one, from her father’s contest. Let’s not forget you stole her virginity, and if that wasn’t enough, you almost caused a scandal by dueling with Lord Rollins. Lastly, you lured her to an empty room during Lady
Ruthaford’s
ball and were caught, which in turn, ruined her reputation for good.”

Edmund sat forward and opened his mouth to rebut, but Nick held up his hand to stop him.

“I realize it was planned by Rollins and
Eversley
, but nevertheless, you in no way tried to prevent coupling with the woman during the evening.” Leaning back in the chair, Nick crossed one leg over the other. “What have you to say now, Knight?”

Edmund sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m a bastard.”

“That’s only circumstance, not an excuse.”

Edmund’s hands dropped to his lap as he glared at his friend. “Very well. Would you like me to admit I wanted revenge? That I wanted to see Lord Saxton grovel like a swine? That I wanted the
ton
to treat him as they have treated me?”

“Just as I have suspected.” Nick frowned and rubbed his chin. “This wasn’t about Megan at all, was it?”

Edmund growled. Ready to explode, he held his head and closed his eyes. Why did Nick have to make him think, especially when he was in this condition?

“Not in the beginning, but—”

“Yes, I’m also aware of that. You love the woman, am I correct?”

He peeked through his fingers, blurred as his vision was. “Correct.”

“Then what’s stopping you from going to get her?”

A chuckle escaped Edmund’s lips as he laid his head back against the chair.
“Because nobody knows where she’s gone.
Her father and mother aren’t speaking
ta
me, and rightly so. I searched all over England for her, but the woman has dropped off the face of the earth.”

Nick leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees. “I know where she is.”

Edmund snapped up straight, his head spinning from the quick movement. “Do not jest with me now, my friend.”

Grinning, Nick nodded. “I’m not jesting. She’s in America, in San Francisco, to be precise.”

Edmund gasped. “What?”

“And,” Nick added, “she’s telling everyone she’s a widow. The name she uses is Mrs. Knight.”

Edmund jumped up from his chair, eager to go claim his woman, but his knees buckled and he fell, hitting his head on the coffee table on the way down.

Chapter Sixteen

Why don’t these people believe in growing shade trees?

Megan groaned as she whipped the wrist-fan in front of her face, hoping it would circulate a little cool air. It only accomplished moving the dry current. She stepped outside the front porch of her new home and glanced at the school. Today was her first day. Could she do it?

She ran her moist palms down her skirt, thankful it hid her shaking limbs. Her mother would be swooning if she knew Megan worked for a living. Her father would not likely care.

With a straight back, chin held high, she walked toward the small red-brick building. Ten or so children – between five to sixteen years of age – stopped their playing in front to stare at her with wide eyes. They all had dark, suntanned skin as if they worked out in the fields. Most were dressed in farmer’s attire, mostly raggedy with holes in their knees and fraying hems. She kept her smile and nodded at them before proceeding up the three stairs into the schoolhouse.

The pungent odor of chalk assaulted her senses and she sneezed. How long had it been since she’d smelled that? The small coatroom held no outerwear because of the season, but lunch pails lined the top shelf above the coat hooks.

She rounded the corner and came to a halt. Mayor Williams stood with his back to her, writing on the chalkboard. With his chin tilted up, his wavy blond hair brushed his collar, making it appear longer than it’s true length. When he reached his arm high to write on the board, his shirt stretched across his shoulders, reminding her of Edmund’s finely
toned
muscles.

Inwardly, she cursed for even thinking of Edmund, and especially for comparing the two men.

She cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “Good morning.”

He jumped and swung around, chalk still held between his fingers and thumb. He smiled. “Good morning to you, Mrs. Knight.”

“Will you be teaching today?”

He shook his head. “I’m just here for your support, and of course to introduce you to the children.”

A bead of moisture touched her forehead. She brought up her fan and waved the air across her face. She stepped into the classroom. “I must admit, I’m a little nervous.”

He chuckled. “You will do a splendid job. You carry yourself well, Mrs. Knight, and I believe the children will sense the authority you hold.”

“Your words are kind, Mayor Williams.”