The Irish Bride (25 page)

“
Maybe. But it seems awfully
lavish for just two people.”

He tucked her hand in the crook of his
arm and grinned. “Well, it won’t always be just the two of us. I
expect we’ll be having some sons.”

She turned to look at him, a spark in
her green eyes. “Oh, sons is it? And what about daughters, then?
Will ye have nothing to do with them if that’s what I give
you?”

His grin widened. “Of course I will.
They’ll have fine bedchambers in our new house, and books, and
music. I saw that pianoforte in the parlor. It’s a lady’s
instrument, they say.”

“
But . . . ”

He knew she wasn’t sold on the idea of
the mill and the house, but he might be able to work on that. “We
came here to make a better life, not just for us, but for our
children. Wouldn’t ye rather see them grow up in a fine home than
live one on top of the other in a little cabin? To have an easier
time of it than we did?” He bent to pluck a pink wildflower from
the side of the road.

“
Of course I
would.”

He teased her ear with the late-summer
bloom. “I think we stand a good chance of giving that to them. And
Mr. Brother hinted that he would probably leave behind much of the
furnishings and so on. He said he didn’t want to ship them to Ohio
and suffer reminders of his late wife.”

“
I can surely understand
that, just from the standpoint of packing up all that stuff. I
wouldn’t want to do it.”

“
So you’d agree to the
arrangement for our children.” She nodded with only a moment’s
hesitation that he could see. He stopped in his tracks and turned
her toward him. “Then would ye let me do it for
you
, for the joy it would give
me?”

“
Joy?”

“
Remember I told you in St.
Louis that I like doing for you? Will ye let me?”

She smiled and shook her head at him.
“You’re too charming for your own good by half, ye know. And mine
as well.”

“
That means you
agree.”

“
Aye, Aidan.”

He searched her pretty face and swept
her into his arms. “You’re a fine woman, Farrell Kirwan
O’Rourke.”

“
Ah, well, I’ve a fine man
for a husband.” He kissed her then, long and leisurely, stirring up
memories of their night before, which made Aidan want to step fancy
for home. Instead he put her hand back in the crook of his arm and
began walking again at a leisurely pace, reminding himself that
even a married lass needed a wee bit of romancing. He pointed to
the deepening sky.

“
Have ye ever seen such a
brilliant sparkle of stars? They remind me of the way your eyes
shimmer in candlelight.”

Even in the dim light, he saw a blush
of pleasure on her cheeks. “Aidan, this sounds like some of the
blarney I used to hear about back home, the stuff that made the
colleens weak in the knees. You’ll not be turning my head with
that.”

He just grinned and laid his hand over
hers. She could protest all she liked, but he could tell when he’d
set spark to tinder.

Her slender fingers felt so small and
finely made, sandwiched between his larger ones and the starched
sleeve of his shirt. He brushed his thumb over the protrusion of
her wrist bone and felt her shiver. His grin broadened, because by
that he knew he wasn’t alone in remembering last night.

His thoughts returned to the mill and
the fine life he could give her there. Her heart set on farming,
Farrell was indulging him and he knew it. But as they neared the
little house that was their home for now, he swore to himself that
he’d make sure she never regretted it. He would win her love
yet.

Even if he had to work eighteen hours
a day to do it.

* * *

Noel Cardwell had never set eyes on
drier, uglier terrain in all his days. Granted, in the distance he
could see mountains covered with trees, but in this immediate area,
on the outskirts of Sacramento, the sun had leeched the soil of
moisture, and only the hardiest of scrubby bushes had managed to
take root.

Yearning for the greenness of home,
Noel lamented his long absence and silently cursed Aidan O’Rourke
for being the cause of it. Even the peat bogs of Ireland had been
more appealing to the eye than this godforsaken
landscape.

“
There she is, Noel. That
was our general store, where it all began.” George Gray pointed out
a grubby little storefront bordered by a sagging, gap-planked
sidewalk. “It looks like the new owner has made some
improvements.”

Their open carriage, driven by Seth
Fitch, paused in the road so that they could all view the Grays’
former place of occupation.

Noel was hard pressed to be civil at
this point. He had been saddled with these clodhoppers since New
Orleans. On yet another appalling ocean voyage, he’d traveled
around Cape Horn, a harrowing experience in itself. This time he’d
had the Grays with him and had almost welcomed the seasickness—it
had given him a reason to stay in his cabin and away from them. The
only thing that made them at all tolerable was that they were still
footing the bill for all of his expenses. Not only did he find this
to his liking, it enabled Noel to pay Seth Fitch to continue his
search for Aidan O’Rourke, the reason Noel had traveled west to
begin with.

“
We’ve come far since those
days, haven’t we, Dolly?” George inquired of his powdered and
highly perfumed wife.

“
Oh, my and haven’t we?” She
held a parasol over her head, but the autumn sun still revealed the
gray roots of her hair, telling Noel that she’d used a concoction
of some kind to alter its natural color. “To think we were just
small-town hicks back then. Didn’t know a thing. But not anymore!
Just look at us—we’ve seen the world, traveled on a sailing ship
around the end of South America. Now we have
sophistication
.” Noel did his best to
disguise a laugh with a loud cough and hoped it was convincing.
“And best of all,” she went on, “we’ve made friends with dear Lord
Noel Cardwell.” Discreetly, she patted his knee with her chubby,
beringed hand.

Lately, Dolly had begun making some
very obvious overtures when George wasn’t looking or was out of the
room. It was rather trying, but Noel had no trouble fending her off
while keeping her on the string. Sometimes, he thought with private
amusement, that he should have been born a woman. He would have
married very well and had a string of wealthy lovers on the side.
“Ah, lovely Dolly, it is I who have been enriched by our
friendship.”

They completed their carriage tour of
Sacramento, the California state capital, and now they were all
going to dinner.

When they arrived back at their hotel
to change to evening clothes, Noel had a chance to talk with Fitch
in his room.

“
Well, man, what have you
learned, anything yet?” Noel asked as he threaded the studs through
his shirtfront.

Fitch remained standing in his
presence. It wasn’t necessary and Noel had never demanded it of
him. But he liked it. “I’ve had a message from a private
investigation agency in San Francisco. They have an operative in
Portland and they think they’ve located O’Rourke.”

“
Really? He’s in Portland?”
Noel had learned a little about the major cities on the west coast,
and Portland was about six hundred miles north.

“
No, but in Oregon City,
nearby.”

“
By God, this is fabulous
news, Fitch, fabulous. Can you book passage for us on a boat
north?”

“
Yes, sir. As soon as the
ticket office opens in the morning.”

“
Excellent.” Noel pulled his
wallet from his coat pocket on the bed and extracted a ten-dollar
gold piece. “Take this and find some pleasure for yourself. You’ve
earned it.”

Fitch gazed upon the coin as
if it had been hand-wrought by President Pierce himself.
“Yes,
sir
, your
Lordship! Thank you, sir!”

“
Well, didn’t I promise
bonuses?”

“
You did, sir.”

“
Off with you then. Just
don’t have so much fun that you forget to book that passage.” Fitch
bowed his way out of the room, leaving Noel to consider the
situation.

At last.

Aidan O’Rourke was within his reach at
last, and he could finally rid himself of the tedious Grays. Noel
sank into an upholstered chair next to the bed and considered his
prospects. He had enough money to see himself and his manservant,
which was how he’d come to view Seth Fitch, to Portland. He’d have
only a bit of capital left, but with some discreet inquiries, it
shouldn’t be too hard to connect with the right circle of people
who would love to entertain a titled gentleman as their
guest.

Not only was O’Rourke close at hand,
more importantly, so was Farrell. He’d heard that she’d married
that Irish scum, which struck him as odd. In Ireland, she’d been
engaged to the other O’Rourke brother, Liam. Maybe she wanted no
more of Aidan than Noel did. The rumor of marriage might not be
true, but even if it was, a widow would be unencumbered in any
event. In fact, he might be doing both her and himself a favor by
dispatching her husband. He smiled to himself at the prospect.
After he had performed this deed for her—not that he would do so
personally—how could she refuse him? In fact, she might be so
grateful, she would be willing to do anything to repay him for her
outrageous assault and for ridding her of her loutish
husband.

That certainly opened up some
interesting possibilities. He poured a drink for himself from the
bedside brandy decanter while his imagination went to work with a
flame-haired woman who had a temper to match. He swallowed the
drink in one gulp. He’d tame that temper and enjoy the process
immensely.

She probably would not, but that
didn’t matter to him. He’d teach her a lesson about insulting her
betters, one that she would not forget.

The next evening at dinner, with
passage secured, Noel broke the news to the Grays that their own
personal lord would be moving on. God, their jaws nearly fell into
their blancmange. Despite his joy at leaving their company, their
disappointment was most gratifying.

“
Oh, no,” Dolly mourned, her
small blue eyes filling with tears.

“
This is disappointing,
Noel,” George agreed, but perhaps not for the same reason as his
wife. “We’ve had such jolly adventures together.”

Noel nodded with feigned regret. “We
have, it’s true. But business calls. I’ve put this off as long as I
can to remain in your wonderful company, but now the situation has
become critical and I can’t delay any longer.”

“
Then we must drink to your
success.” George signaled the waiter to bring them a bottle of
their very best and oldest brandy—well, old for America—and the
pair drank toast after toast to him, until they were so besotted,
Noel worried that they would begin singing, right there in the
hotel dining room. It was bad enough that Dolly was blubbering like
the shop girl that she was. George had moved his chair next to
Noel’s and slung an arm over his shoulder, slurring compliments in
his face. In a way, it was all quite flattering, but Noel wanted to
leave before the management asked them to leave. That moment
appeared imminent, with the headwaiter casting baleful looks at
their table. With his white towel draped over his arm, the man
started across the dining room.

Noel stood and bowed slightly. “I
shall wish you goodnight, then, and goodbye. My ship leaves early
in the morning and I won’t have a chance to see you before I go.”
He made all the right comments, all the proper, gentlemanly thanks,
and managed to get away before he became part of the scene that was
about to occur.

Later that night, after he had gone to
bed, he heard a cautious tapping on his door. Surely it wouldn’t be
Fitch at this hour. The man knew better than to bother him. At
least Noel thought he did. Noel ignored the tapping and rolled
over. The knock sounded again, louder this time.

“
Bloody Christ!” he
muttered, throwing on a dressing robe over his nightshirt. He went
to the door and opened it to find Dolly Gray standing on his
threshold, dressed in a red Japanese kimono.

“
Dolly! What are you doing
here?”

“
Shhh!” she whispered and
pushed him into the darkened room, closing the door behind her. She
brought with her the lingering fumes of brandy along with her
perfume. “I just had to see you one last time. I couldn’t let you
leave without telling you . . . telling
you . . . ”

Noel fumbled around and lit his
bedside lamp with a match, throwing harsh light on Dolly’s
tear-puffy face. “Telling me what?”

She flung herself into his arms. As
round as she was short, it was like holding onto a big ball. “That
I love you! I’ve loved you from the first moment we met. You’re so
suave and debonair and cultured. You’re just the kind of man I’ve
always hoped for.”

Noel was horrified and yet perversely
amused. “But Dolly, what about George?”

She dismissed her husband with an
impatient wave of her hand. “He doesn’t know the first thing about
what a woman needs.” She pulled back to look at him with her wet
eyes. “But you, I know you would. I know you’d do more than just
climb on and grunt a few times, then roll off. Oh, Noel, we’d be so
perfect together, me and you.” Without warning, she grabbed the
back of his neck and dragged his head down to her smacking
lips.