ToLoveaLady (18 page)

“I’m right enough, now. Leave off your fussing.” He turned to Charles. “I’m much obliged, m’lord, for you coming down to straighten this out.”

“Next time you decide to practice roping, pay more attention whose brand is on the cattle.” Abbie smiled at him.
 

He nodded. “Aye, miss, I’ll not be making that mistake again.”
 

“Come on, let’s go back to the ranch.” Charles turned to leave, but the sheriff stopped him at the door.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Grady said. “People like you think you’re above the law, but you’re not.”

“And people like you think wearing a badge gives you the power to make your own laws.” Charles faced him, unblinking. “I’m fast losing my patience with you, Grady. If I find you harassing Lady Thorndale, or any of my employees, or any of my guests, I’ll file a complaint with your superiors and see that you pay.” Not waiting for an answer, he turned and walked out, slamming the door in the sheriff’s face.

“Guess you told him, m’lord,” Nick said as he untied his horse.

“It’s lucky for you his Lordship was good enough to come and get you out of this fix,” Alice scolded. “Maybe now you’ll leave off all this cowboy talk. It’s gotten you nothing but trouble.”

Nick shook his head. “I’ve tried explaining it to you, but I can see you’ll never understand. This is something I have to do.”

“If you’ve no care for yourself, give a thought to Lord Silsbee. You’re his responsibility and I dare say he’ll soon tire of patching you up and bailing you out of jail.”

Responsibility. Charles felt the word like a great weight on his shoulders as he climbed into the buggy and turned the rig toward home. The very thing he’d wanted to avoid. Since Cecily’s arrival, his responsibilities had multiplied almost daily, to include not only her and her servants, but his three house guests of questionable character, and now even his neighbor’s cattle. Would his life never be his own again?

* * *

Charles said nothing more about Nick’s arrest or the sheriff’s vendetta. In fact, in the days following their visit to the jail, he seemed increasingly withdrawn and preoccupied. Cecily worried the letter from his father had contained bad news, but when she questioned him, he curtly replied that his father never wrote with good news and changed the subject.

In an effort to keep peace, she advised Nick to remain close to the house and stay out of trouble, to put aside cowboying for a while. Alice and Nick seemed to have reached some kind of understanding. They had talked together long into the night after Nick’s arrest, and Alice had come into her room the next morning looking decidedly calmer, and wearing her lavender skirt and frilly shirtwaist, her hair in a new, more attractive style.

 
With Charles so withdrawn, Cecily began to grow bored. She had the meeting of the Fairweather Academy committee to look forward to, but until then, the days stretched emptily before her. Even her classes with Fifi and Estelle did not take up as much time as they once had, since the women were progressing rapidly. Soon, she would not have even this to occupy her time, as Madame was hoping to move into her new house very shortly.

“The construction foreman tells me he expects to be completed by the end of February,” she announced one afternoon as the four women sat in the front parlor.

“That’s only two weeks away. Will you really be leaving so soon?” Cecily could not hide her disappointment. How many stilted dinners alone with Charles could she sit through before she cast all practiced self-control aside and pleaded with him to love her? She knew him well enough now to see that such recklessness would only force him into sending her home, minus the coveted wedding band on her finger. No, she had to find some way to make him see her as a blessing, not a burden. She had to make him want her as much as she wanted him. But how?

“Someone’s coming.” Fifi looked up from the stocking she was darning and peered out the window. Cecily joined her and watched a line of dust advancing toward them across the prairie. Soon the figure of a man on horseback emerged from the dust.

“It’s a city fellow,” Fifi observed. “No cowboy would be caught dead in that hat.”

The dome-topped derby would have looked out of place on a cowboy’s head, but it went well enough with Gerald Adkins’s tweed suit. The newspaperman reined in at the hitching rail beside the fence and strode to the front door.

A moment later, Gordon escorted their guest into the parlor. “Mr. Gerald Adkins,” he announced, in the same tone he would have used to introduce the dowager duchess of Northampton.
 

Adkins lifted his derby in greeting. “Afternoon, ladies. I hope you’re in the mood for company.”

“Depends on what you’re offering, stranger.” Estelle struck a provocative pose against the mantelpiece.

A wave of red swept up Adkins’ face. “Uh, now ma’am, I just thought I’d visit a little with Lady Thorndale.” He fished a notebook from his coat pocket. “She promised me an interview.”

Cecily stood and greeted him with a smile. “Hello, Mr. Adkins. Allow me to introduce Madame LeFleur, Estelle and Fifi.”

Madame gave a regal nod, while the younger women executed graceful curtsies. Gordon took the derby and vanished once more and Adkins settled himself in a high-backed armchair. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, ladies.”

“My girls and I will leave you in privacy.” Madame started to rise, but Cecily waved her back down.
 

“No, Madame. I won’t hear of it. Stay and keep me company. Mr. Adkins won’t mind, will you?”
 

She smiled her sweetest smile at Adkins, who nevertheless looked uncertain. “Oh. . . sure. They can stay,” he mumbled after a moment.

 
Adkins settled himself into the chair, notepad on his knee, pencil poised above it. “So tell me, Lady Thorndale, what brings you to Texas?”

I’m chasing a man who thought he could leave me behind.
She smiled sweetly. “I’m visiting my fiancé, Lord Silsbee.”

“Fiancé, is it?” Adkins grinned. “Well, congratulations. Do you and Mr. Worthington – Lord Silsbee – intend to live on the ranch after you’re wed?”

“We haven’t discussed that. But I must say, I’m certainly enjoying my stay in your charming town. Everyone has been very friendly. I’ve even been invited to join the women who are working to found the Academy.”

Adkins scribbled furiously to get all this down. Cecily hoped she’d distracted him sufficiently from any more questions about her engagement to Charles.

Gordon provided further distraction by arriving with the tea tray. In addition to tea, he had somehow managed to charm Mrs. Bridges out of a dozen of her delicious, and closely-guarded sand tarts. “Thank you, Gordon, this looks splendid,” she said.

“You’re quite welcome, m’lady.” Gordon bowed and left them once more. Cecily poured tea and handed around the sand tarts.

Juggling cup, plate and notebook, Adkins launched into his questions once more. “Why did you want to get involved with building the Academy?”

“I’ve seen how important education is, especially here in the west.”

Adkins nodded and popped an entire sand tart into his mouth. He’d scarcely swallowed the last crumb when his next question popped out. “I understand you were the one who came up with the idea of offering adult education courses as well as classes for younger people.”

So word had gotten round had it? A flutter of delight rushed over her. “I only mentioned the idea in passing to Miss Simms. I’m pleased they would take it into consideration.”

“You are much too modest.” Madame LeFleur looked up from her tea, startling them. “If Lady Thorndale had not been born to a higher station, I believe she would have made an excellent teacher.”

Adkins leaned toward the Madame with an expression of keen interest. “Now why do you say that?”

“Because she’s done an excellent job of teaching Fifi and Estelle to read.” She nodded to the two younger women. Fifi sat up straight and stared at the floor, but Estelle struck a more casual pose and preened.

“Now ain’t that something.” Adkins laid down his pencil. “Let’s hear you read something then.”

“Oh, I don’t think. . . “ Fifi began.

“I’ll do it.” Estelle picked up a magazine from the table by her chair and flipped through it. She stopped at an illustrated page and sat up straight, magazine held in front of her. Clearing her throat, she began: “Mrs. Tilbury’s Beauty Wash is a true miracle of modern science, possessing the ability to both cleanse and enhance. Every women will want to make Mrs. Tilbury’s Beauty Wash an important part of her beauty routine. Use Mrs. Tilbury’s as a hair rinse or to lend vitality and freshness to the complexion. Mrs. Tilbury’s may also be used as an excellent wash for woolens and fine linens.”

“How remarkable.” Adkins turned to Cecily. “Perhaps you and the ladies should give a demonstration as part of the Independence Day celebration.”

“Independence Day celebration?” Cecily sent him a questioning look. “I understood that took place in July.”

“July fourth is American Independence Day. March second is Texas’s Independence Day. When we declared ourselves independent from Mexico.” Adkins grinned. “It’s the high point of the social season in these parts, I tell you. They’re going to be dedicating the Academy that day. The ladies here would be perfect examples of the benefits of the adult education programs you hope to offer.”

“Well, I don’t know. . . “ Cecily glanced at Estelle and Fifi. She didn’t want to embarrass the women.

“You mean read to people, maybe up on a stage?” Still clutching the magazine, Estelle sat forward in her chair. “I’ve always wanted to be an actress.”

“It would certainly be a wonderful way to introduce ourselves to the townspeople, so to speak,” Madame said thoughtfully.

“I don’t believe the sheriff would be pleased,” Cecily said.

“Piffle!” Madame swatted the air as if batting a fly. “Reading aloud is certainly not a crime against law or morality.” She smiled. “The sheriff will not like it, but there will be nothing he can do.”

“Tell me more about this Independence Day celebration.” Cecily said. “What do people do there?”

 
“Well, let’s see . . .” Adkins rubbed his chin. “There’s always a big picnic on the square, and speeches and entertainment. That night, there’s fireworks and a street dance.”

“Dancing? In the street?” Cecily frowned, trying to picture it.

“Sure. You don’t have street dances in England?”

She shook her head. “I’ve only ever danced in ballrooms.”

“Oh, a street dance is loads more fun than that stuffy, formal stuff. For one thing, being out in the open, it’s lots cooler. And there’s more room to swing your partner without banging into other people.”

Cecily’s eyes widened as she pictured couples careening up and down the street, colliding with one another. “What sort of dancing do you do?”

“Square dancing, mostly, though there’s usually a few waltzes thrown in to give everybody a chance to cuddle up to their sweetheart.” He grinned. “Look around and you’ll probably see more than one pair dancing their way over to the shadows to do a little spooning.”

A tingle of anticipation raced through Cecily. She was unfamiliar with the term ‘spooning’ but she had a good idea what it might mean. The idea of getting Charles into the shadows for a little ‘spooning’ of their own sounded very appealing. “I know how to waltz,” she said. “But I’ve never heard of square dancing.”

“Never heard of square dancing?” Adkins jumped to his feet and held out his hand. “You don’t know what fun you’re missing. Let me show you.”

“I really don’t think. . . “ But already, he was pulling her to her feet to stand beside him.
 

“Now, we don’t have any music, so I’ll just hum along.” He looked at Madame and the girls. “And maybe you ladies could help keep time.” He took both of Cecily’s hands in his own and stepped around to face her. “The beauty of square dancing is it can be different every time, but it’s really very simple. You just learn the basic steps, then follow the direction of the caller. First off, you want to honor your partner.” He bowed to Cecily. Smiling, she curtsied. “Then you honor your corner, which means the person on your right.” He bowed to an invisible fellow dancer. “Then the caller will usually start out with a promenade. That just means you hold both hands and walk. You can ‘promenade round’ a circle, ‘promenade left’, ‘promenade right’, or ‘promenade up the middle.’” He demonstrated, pulling her alongside him around and then up the middle of the room.

“That’s certainly simple enough,” Cecily said.

“Next, you want to know how to do-si-do. That means you put your hands on your hips and turn to face your partner. Then you circle around each other.”
 

She mimicked his posture and sidled around him until they faced each other again. “This isn’t very different from the country dances my mother knew as a girl. What next?”

“There’s the allemande. That’s where you turn to your corner – the dancer on your right – and join hands for a turn, then go back to your partner.”

He showed her half a dozen other steps – the right-hand star, grand right and left, and something called ‘balancing your partner’ which required athletic kicking out to the side. Cecily stood back after the last movement, laughing. “I’m not sure I’ll ever remember it all!”