Emma: Bride of Kentucky (American Mail-Order Bride 15) Page 5

  Turning to her, he leaned forward and whispered against her cheek. “You and I will get along just fine. My mother has impeccable taste.”

  Emma coughed at the stench of bourbon on his breath. She backed away and stared after him when he sauntered out of the room. The instant the door closed behind him, she wheeled to look at Lizette Benton.

  “David didn’t know about me?”

  The truth to Emma’s question stared back at her through Lizette’s gaze. Anger surged through her.

  “Come and sit down, Emma. Have some breakfast, and we’ll discuss it.” She reached for Emma’s hand. Emma yanked it away. She shook her head.

  “No, I’d like an explanation. Your son is the rudest, most callous man I have ever had the misfortune to meet. He didn’t send for me, did he? Nor write that kind letter to me, asking me to come here.”

  Her heart sank to her stomach. Panic made bile rise in her throat. She had no money, and nowhere to go.

  Lizette looked demure and her lips drew together in an apologetic frown. “I placed the ad in the Gazette on David’s behalf,” she said slowly. She raised her hand to Emma’s arm. “David works hard. He’s been a bit wayward lately, I’ll admit, but the enormous responsibility of running this estate is the cause for his behavior. I assure you, once he’s had some rest, you’ll like him. And he will like you.”

  Emma’s forehead scrunched. “Why would you have to place an ad for a wife so far away? Surely there are plenty of women right here in Lexington that would be flattered to be courted by David?”

  Lizette blinked. She shook her head slightly. “David doesn’t know what he wants. A wife will put him back on the right road. You two will make a wonderful couple.”

  Emma backed away. Her impulse was to run from the room. She should have followed her intuition, and not answered the ad in the first place. She was worse off now than before. She had no funds to return to the familiarity of Boston.

  She inhaled a deep breath to calm her jumbled nerves. She didn’t need a perfect husband, only one who would provide financial security. That’s why she’d answered that ad.

  “You can’t leave, Emma.” Lizette’s face sobered, as if she’d read Emma’s thoughts. “I have a seamstress scheduled to arrive today to fit you for a new wardrobe. You will have the finest of everything again.”

  Emma stared into the eyes of a desperate woman, perhaps more desperate than herself. “What do you mean, ‘again’?”

  Lizette moved to the dining room table. She lifted her coffee cup, and took a sip. She dabbed at her chin before setting the cup back in its saucer, then straightened.

  “Certainly you can understand that we would need to know who we are accepting into our family? We must avoid scandal at any cost. I investigated you before I sent you a reply on David’s behalf. I know all about your situation, Emma dear. Your mother is dead, and your father left you with nothing. You can’t return to Boston.”

  Emma expelled a breath of air in disbelief. “You had me investigated?” she whispered. She shivered worse than when David had touched his tongue to her hand.

  “You come from a nearly impeccable background, Emma. What happened to you is not your fault, although your father's dealings did leave a small blemish on your family name. However, now you’ve been given a chance to get back the life you once had. In fact, an even better life.”

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Emma’s voice rose in anger. “Why would you deceive me like this?”

  Lizette walked up to her again. “I’m offering you a good life, Emma.” Her eyes glared and her voice turned cold. “All you have to do is marry my son, be a dutiful wife to him, and make appearances with him in public. In exchange, you will want for nothing.”

  Emma scoffed. “What if I refuse?”

  Lizette gave a triumphant laugh. “You won’t refuse, dear. You’ve lived in poverty too long. I see the hunger in your eyes to get back what you once had. Besides, you have no means to return to Boston.”

  The woman’s placid voice intensified Emma’s anger. Lizette calmly lifted her coffee cup, and held it to her lips. She met Emma’s stare after setting the cup back on its saucer.

  “If you wish to refuse, I will have to ask that you remove yourself from this property immediately.”

  Emma blinked back the sting of tears in her eyes. Tears of frustration, because this woman knew precisely why she couldn’t leave. She inhaled a deep breath. Thoughts raced through her mind so fast, she needed a quiet place to think clearly.

  “I’ve developed a headache,” Emma said, resigning herself to her fate. “If you’ll excuse me, Lizzy, I think I’ll return to my room for a while.”

  Lizette beamed a genuine smile. “Splendid idea, my dear. I’ll have Judith come and get you when my seamstress arrives.”

  Emma rushed from the room and stumbled up the staircase. She shot a hasty look at the door to David Benton’s bedroom, and nearly ran to the seclusion of her own room. She slammed the door too hard, making one of the paintings vibrate on the wall.

  “I knew that ad was too good to be true,” she mumbled under her breath. No wealthy man would have need to advertise for a wife, unless there was something seriously wrong with him. Hadn’t she thought of that many times since reading the ad, and during the long train ride to get to Kentucky?

  Emma’s heart skipped a beat. David Benton was a drunk. She shuddered at the way he’d leered at her, his bloodshot eyes hungry like those of a predator. Had he simply been out of character because he’d had too much to drink?

  She’d encountered drunks before on the streets of Lawrence, on her way home to her apartment from the factory. Usually, she’d walk with at least one or more of the other girls, but that hadn’t stopped drunken men from making rude comments to them.

  “Gillian, what am I to do?” If only her sensible friend were here right now to offer her some advice.

  Willow’s voice echoed in her ear, telling her to have faith, and that everything would work out for the best.

  “I’m trying to have faith and make the best of it,” Emma whispered.

  Things could be far worse. She could be out on the streets in Lawrence or Boston. She was being offered a life of luxury, the life she wanted, just as Lizette had said.

  Emma gazed out at the pastures. The horses grazing in the fields looked so tranquil, and eased the turmoil in her head. Whenever she’d been upset as a young girl, her horse Ajax had offered her his quiet comfort. Strolling through a barn, inhaling the scent of hay and horses, had always been soothing.

  She straightened and a smile passed over her lips. There were barns and dozens of horses right in front of her. Emma dabbed a handkerchief under her eyes and reached for her shawl. Quietly, she opened the door to her room and marched down the hall. Hopefully, Lizette would still be eating her breakfast in the dining room.

  Emma glanced up and down the big entry once she was downstairs. She was alone, and didn’t have to explain her actions to anyone. She slipped out of the house and followed the gravel road in the direction from which the carriage had come yesterday. With each footfall, the tightness in her chest eased. By the time she approached the first barn, there was a distinct spring to her steps.

  She closed her eyes and inhaled the ever-stronger scent of horses. The spring grass gave off a pleasant fragrant smell, and her mood was definitely lifted. A man emerged from the barn, walking with quick strides in the opposite direction. He hadn’t even noticed her. Emma glanced around. The horses in the pastures were too far away, but perhaps she could pet one of the stabled animals.

  Rounding the corner of the barn, she stepped inside through the wide open doors. The glare of sunlight coming from the open, opposite end of the barn momentarily blinded her. She moved further into the dim barn aisle, around the carriage that had brought her to the Three Elms Farm yesterday.

  She blinked to adjust her eyes and her heart nearly came to a stop. Sitting not ten yards away, on a bale of straw, was the man who’d ins
tantly entered her thoughts when she’d seen the carriage.

  He sat at an angle while an older man wrapped a bandage around his bare upper chest. Emma’s mouth went dry at her glimpse of his broad shoulders, lean upper body, and the corded muscles of his upper arms. She moved to leave, when the older man looked up from his task and smiled warmly.

  “Well, looks like we have a visitor,” the older man said to Hawley before looking fully at her.

  Emma’s feet turned to lead. She couldn’t move if her life depended on it. Hawley shifted his torso to look in her direction. His head turned slowly and their eyes connected.

  Chapter Seven

  Emma forced her eyes away from the man whose stare seemed to seep straight into her core. He rose to his feet, a puzzled look on his face. She moved her gaze to the older man, who wore an amused smile. He stepped away from Hawley and toward her. Emma could feel Hawley’s eyes on her without even looking at him. Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks when he slowly stood.

  “Is there something we can do for you, Miss?” the older man asked. He walked slightly hunched over and with a noticeable limp.

  Emma shook her head. “No,” she stammered. “I was just going for a walk. I didn’t realize this barn doesn’t house horses.”

  The older man chuckled. He swiped a hand over his balding head. “We keep the Missus’ carriages in here, and other equipment. If you’re looking for horses, you can find them in the next barn over.” He pointed out the other end of the barn from where she’d entered.

  “Thank you.” Emma plastered a smile on her face. “I’ll be going, then. Thank you for pointing me in the right direction.”

  “Anytime, Miss. Everyone here calls me Gus, and if you need anything that has to do with the horses, you come see me.”

  “All right.” Emma nodded at the kind old man. “I won’t keep you from your work.”

  Gus chuckled. “No trouble at all, Miss. After all, you’ll be the new missus around here soon enough, am I right?”

  Emma looked into the man’s wrinkled face. His eyes sparkled and his brows rose. After meeting her future husband a short while ago, the title of missus of this estate sounded less appealing than it had yesterday.

  “Emmaline Waterston,” she said without committing to an answer to his question.

  “Emma. Now that’s a right pretty name, don’t you think so, Sam?” Gus turned his head to look at the man who stood silently in front of the straw bale.

  Emma’s eyes moved to him before she could even stop her actions. Her heart thumped against her ribs. Hawley was still staring at her. Rather than shivers of apprehension like what she’d experienced from David’s rude stares, Hawley’s gaze sent a decidedly different thrill down her spine.

  Twice in one day now, men had looked at her with an appraising eye. While David’s stare had done nothing but make her feel exposed, the admiring glance from Hawley left her feeling warm all over.

  She forced her eyes back on Gus. His familiar use of her name left her without a reply momentarily. The servants in Boston wouldn’t dare speak so casually to their employers. Strangely, it didn’t bother her. Gus was immediately likable, and Emma returned his warm smile.

  “It’s what my friends back home always called me,” she almost whispered.

  A sharp twinge of homesickness engulfed her. She’d come here with high hopes of finding a new life, establishing new roots and securing a future. All she’d found so far was a man who’d made less than a favorable impression on her, and his manipulative mother.

  “I’m sure you’re missing them right about now,” Gus said. He couldn’t have known how true his statement was at that moment. Emma blinked back that familiar sting in the back of her eyes. She wasn’t a weepy woman, but today, vulnerability and loneliness won out over keeping her chin up and her emotions hidden.

  “I should probably go, and leave you to your work,” she said hastily, before she made a fool of herself in front of this man and the one still watching her in silence. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Gus.”

  She was about to leave the barn when a loud voice behind her made her turn.

  “There you are,” a large woman bellowed, and came sauntering into the barn.

  Emma frowned, then looked to Gus, whose eyes had gone wide with an appreciative gleam.

  “I thought you’d be at your cottage, resting that rheumatism of yours. My salve must have worked yesterday.”

  Gus smiled sheepishly. “It worked wonders, Millie,” he confirmed, and rubbed at the back of his neck.

  She held out a basket to Gus. “I brought a freshly baked loaf of bread. I made extra, but no one seemed to want my cooking this morning.”

  The woman, Millie, swept her gaze toward Emma and her eyes widened.

  “Well, land sakes,” she said with her hand on her wide hip. “You’d rather be traipsing around the barn than eat my good food, Miss Emma?”

  Emma blinked and looked around to confirm the woman was addressing her. She’d never seen this woman before, but she was obviously part of the kitchen staff. She shook her head to clear her mind.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Miz Lizzy told me you’d lost your appetite this morning, and sent breakfast back to the kitchen.” The woman advanced on her with both hands on her hips. “No one sends my food back.”

  Emma’s spine stiffened. She opened her mouth to tell this woman to mind her place, when Millie’s face transformed from looking murderous to flashing a wide smile. Her matronly eyes swept over Emma and she pulled her against her heaving bosom in a tight embrace.

  “I knew you the minute I set eyes on you,” she said in a loud tone. “Miz Lizzy told me last night what a pretty thing you are, and she wasn’t telling stories at all.”

  She straightened and held Emma at arm’s length, appraising her with warm eyes. Emma coughed and inhaled a quick breath in case the woman planned to suffocate her again. No one had ever hugged her like this before, least of all a servant. Rather than finding it off-putting, something squeezed in Emma’s heart and she returned the woman’s smile.

  “No wonder you’re such a little thing if you don’t eat,” Millie continued. “When you get back up to the house you stop in the kitchen, and I’m gonna fix you right up with a good plate of food.” She nodded at her own words, then turned her eyes on Gus when he chuckled.

  “Millie’s cooking will put some meat on your bones right quick,” the old man confirmed.

  Millie glared at his waist. “And by the looks of you, you ain’t complaining, old man.”

  Gus shook his head and rubbed at his belly. “Never complained about your cooking.”

  A spark of affection flashed in Millie’s eyes, and Emma darted glances from her to Gus. Millie turned her attention to the man Emma had nearly forgotten about.

  “And what do you think you’re doing, standing around half naked in front of a lady, Sam Hawley?”

  Hawley shifted his weight and an easy grin formed on his lips, causing indents in his cheeks. Emma’s heart fluttered. He was by far the most handsome man she’d ever seen. She blinked away her silly thoughts and returned her attention to the buxom woman and old man.

  Emma smiled inwardly. These were common people, much like the ones she’d associated with since working in the factory. Although she hadn’t considered most of them close friends, she admired their camaraderie and their casual banter. The way they interacted was so different from what she’d grown up knowing.

  “I was doctoring up his shoulder,” Gus grumbled.

  Millie squeezed her lips together and frowned. She walked up to Sam and unwrapped the bandage from around his chest and shoulder, appraising it with a critical eye.

  Emma’s eyes widened when Sam’s entire chest was exposed to her view. Her pulse quickened. She’d only seen one nude male chest before. Some drunk on the streets of Lawrence had provided a sight she’d much rather forget. Taking in this man’s physique, even with the angry red mark on his shoulder, a new apprec
iation formed for the nude sculptures she’d seen in museums.

  When Sam looked at her, she quickly dropped her gaze, but not before she caught the widening of his smile.

  “You let that old coot near you with a hurt shoulder?” Millie droned. She leaned forward, her nose nearly touching Sam’s skin, and made a face when she smelled him. She quickly straightened and waved her hand in front of her.

  “What’s he doing? Rubbing horse liniment on you?” She glared from Sam to Gus. “You want to lose the use of your arm for good, boy?”

  Emma’s eyes widened when the woman reached out with her hand to cuff the side of Sam’s head. He must have seen her intent, for he ducked quickly and avoided the swat.

  “I want you to come up to the kitchen, and I’ll put something on that shoulder that will actually help it heal.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sam said, still grinning. By the sound of his tone, he had no intention of doing what Millie ordered. And by the disapproving frown on her face, she didn’t believe he would, either.

  “Well.” The wide woman glanced at Gus. “I have to get back to the house. Supper won’t cook itself, and I have preparations to make.” Her gaze moved to Emma.

  “I hope you like burgoo, ‘cause it’s my specialty.”

  Emma shook her head. “My apologies. I’ve never heard of it.”

  Gus smacked his lips, and Millie scoffed. “Well, it don’t matter. You’ll love mine. And I add in a healthy dose of bourbon, so it’ll settle right in your belly.” She sauntered toward the wide, open barn doors. “Bring that basket back to the house when you’re done eating my bread, Gus Ferguson.”

  “I always do,” he called after her and peered into the basket, lifting the cloth that covered the contents.

  “Would you care for some of Millie’s fresh bread, Miss Emma?” Gus held the basket up to her.

  Emma shook her head. Now that Millie was gone, tension returned to her insides, and Sam’s eyes on her weighed her to the ground.

  “I’d best be going, too. It was nice meeting you, Gus.” Emma hesitated for a second, then held out her hand to the old man. He shook it, his weathered fingers closing over hers like a warm glove.