Fool for Love (Montana Romance) (4 page)

“You’re what?” Eve exclaimed.

Her mother pressed a hand to her ample chest.  “Montana?  Montana is in America, isn’t it?”

Olivia remained silent, eyes narrowing harder.

“Yes.  America.”  Amelia nodded.  She lowered her head.

“Why?” Eve asked, her smile fading.

An uncomfortable silence followed.  Eric shuffled from one foot to another.  He’d forgotten to take off his hat.  With an inward curse he swept it off his head and spun it.  He’d been spinning his hat a lot in London.

When Amelia didn’t answer and no one else said a blessed thing, he cleared his throat and told them, “Miss Amelia’s gotten herself in a bit of trouble, ma’am.  Reggie, uh, Mr. Hamilton, showed her the door.  So I said I’d take her back to Montana with me so she could start over with a clean slate.”

Three sets of female eyes snapped to him, full of shock and in Olivia’s case ire.  Amelia continued to stare at the floor, folding her hands in front of her.

“But… but I thought Nicholas Hayworth….” Eve started but faltered when Amelia’s face pinched like she was going to cry.

Eric couldn’t stand the sight.  “That puffed-up jackass turned his back on her,” he said, adding, “when she needed him the most,” before he could stop himself.

“Nick?” Amelia’s mother continued her breathy show of shock.  Her eyes were too sharp for it to be genuine.  “But I thought things were going so well.  Last I heard he had made a place for you, of sorts.”

Amelia flushed bright and faced her mother with a hint of spunk.  “And what kind of a place do you assume that was?”

“A safe place,” her mother insisted, baffled by Amelia’s temper.  “A happy place.  A place where you would have been provided for.”

“I was safe and happy and provided for as the Hamilton girls’ governess.”  Amelia lashed out.  “It wasn’t what I was born to, but it was comfortable.”

Olivia made an ugly scoffing noise.  Their mother seemed t
o agree with the spirit of it.

“You were born for much better things than
teaching
, my dear,” she said with a curl of her lip.

“Teaching is a noble profession!” Amelia protested.  “The Hamilton girls depended on me!”

“The Hamilton girls,” Olivia scoffed.  “You were living in their attic, weren’t you?”

“Living in the Hamilton’s attic is far more dignified than-”  She stopped abruptly, chest heaving, face red, and sn
uck a sideways glance at Eric.

“At least I’ve maintained my self-respect,” she finished, chin tilted high.

Olivia planted her hands on her hips and glared at her sister.  “Self-respect?  What hypocritical nonsense!”

Eric spun his hat faster, rolling his shoulders as Amelia and Olivia and their mother stared each other down.  For a tragic, defeated thing Amelia sure could get a head of steam in her when she had half a mind.  Poor little Eve dropped her gaze, cheeks shining pink.  Maybe he should have insisted they catch a train to Liverpool right away instead of stirring up a hornet’s nest like this.

“All of London knows how you hiked your skirts for Nick Hayworth whenever he crooked his finger,” Olivia went on.  “And now you’ve gone and sold yourself to this American!”

“Now just a minute,” Eric tried to interject, but it was no use.

“I did not sell myself to Mr. Quinlan!  He offered to help me!” Amelia flew on.

Olivia snorted, raking him up and down with a look that shriveled him.  “He helped himself, you mean.”

Amelia’s mouth hung open for a moment as she scrambled for a reply, but nothing came out.  Her lips closed, trembling and close to tears.  She darted a sidelong glance at him as if she might buy her sister’s assessment of him.

“Looky here.”  Eric squared his shoulders, ready to fight whoever questioned his honor, even if it was Amelia.  “I ain’t buyin’ anyone.  I’m not some goddamn coward like that Mr. Hayworth.  I see a woman that needs my help and as long as it’s in my power to give that help I have a responsibility to provide it.  But from what I seen here today, I reckon responsibility is something you English know nothin’ about.”

The room went silent.  Four sets of feminine eyes stared at him in shock, even Amelia’s.  She looked at him with a combination of offense and gratitude that made his back itch all the way down to his toes.

“Hell,” he muttered.  “I didn’t mean to insult your whole damn country.”

“It’s all right,” Amelia mumbled.  At least he’d won back her good opinion.

“Oh no, Mr. – what did you say your name was?” Amelia’s mother asked.

“Quinlan.  Eric Quinlan.”

“Mr. Quinlan.  It’s not an insult at all.”  She batted her eyelashes with a grace that would have set Delilah Reynolds to shaking her head and clicking her tongue.  “Do sit down.  Eve, why don’t you take your sister up to my
boudoir
so that she can choose a piece of her grandmother’s jewelry to take with her to her exciting new life.”

“I don’t want any of Grandmama’s jewelry,” Amelia protested as Eric was forced to sit on the sofa with he
r mother.

“Oh, but it’s ever so nice!”  Eve swung straight back to cheery.  She grabbed Amelia’s arm and tugged her toward the hallway.  “We’ve sold most of it already, but there are still some nice pieces left.”

Amelia met Eric’s eyes.  He got the feeling she was either telling him off or telling him not to let her go.  He didn’t really want to be left alone with her wolf of a mother and pickle of a sister, but sweet Eve had dragged Amelia away and up the stairs in the hallway before he could think of an excuse to keep her there.

“Mr. Quinlan,” Amelia’s mother began in a satin tone, laying a hand on his arm.  Olivia sat in one of the shabby chairs, her arms tightly crossed.

“Ma’am.”  Eric nodded.

“Call me Sophia, please.”

“I think I’ll stick to ‘ma’am’, ma’am.”

Sophia’s laughter was like tinkling crystal about to be dropped on the floor and smashed.

“You may be the kindest man I’ve ever met, Mr. Quinlan.  So selfless, so handsome.”  She smoothed her hand up the arm of his suit and across his collar.  She’d be looking for the label in his coat next.  “Tell me a little bit about yourself, Mr. Quinlan, Eric.  What kind of man is whisking my dear Amelia halfway across the world out of the kindness of his heart?  Is he a man that can be trusted to provide for her wellbeing?”

“Um.”  Eric searched for something to say, but the room suddenly felt too hot and Sophia was definitely sitting too close.  The ladies in the paintings on the walls around him were laughing at him with their wild smiles.

“Because I don’t know if I could let her go into the hands of a man who would make promises but leave her destitute,” Sophia continued, overly sweet.

“On no, ma’am, I got money.  Some, at least.”

“Do you?”  Sophia scooted closer to him across the faded pink sofa.  Olivia showed a hint of interest.

“Well, ma’am, I own a ranch in Cold Springs, Montana.”

“Own?”  Sophia brightened.  “A ranch?  Are you a cowboy then?”

He let a nervous chuckle escape as he tried to shift away from her.  “No, ma’am.  I went on a few cattle drives when I was younger.  I come from a ranching family and all.  My Pop and my cousin Curtis and I used to drive near to a thousand head of cattle from our ranch near Cold Springs down to Cheyenne just about every summer.  That is, until Pop and Mama died in the flu outbreak of ’85.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”  Sophia put on a sad face for about three seconds.  “Cheyenne is a market, I presume.  Do these cattle fetch a good price?  Do you still drive your cattle?”

“No, ma’am.”  Eric shifted, cleared his throat, and steered clear of the topic of money.  “You don’t see hardly any runs like that anymore.  Ever since things have gotten more settled out west and territories started becoming states and the railroad expanded, you’re far more likely to see enclosed ranches with herds of cattle kept more in one place.”

“And you own one of these ranches.”  Sophia smiled.

She listened to his every word with glitter in her eyes and sent a quick look to her daughter.  Olivia still watched the interview with crossed arms and narrowed eyes.  Eric was willing to bet Amelia’s sister could play poker with the best of them and come out on top.

“I do, ma’am.  When Pop and Mama died, they left the ranch to me.  And my cousin Curtis.  It’s a small ranch by Montana standards.  We’ve got a heap of pasture land and some woods and hills and a stream in the back.  I’d like to expand it, mind you, but it’s been tough enough finding a market for our beef.”

“I thought American beef was in high demand,” Sophia said.

“Well,” Eric scratched his head then went back to spinning his hat, “it is.  Problem is, every time I try to make a deal to sell our cattle, something happens and it falls through or I come up short.  Curtis keeps telling me I have bad business sense and if I would just let him buy out my share of the ranch I could put my energy into something that suits me better.  But I’ve only ever known ranching.  I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

He was rambling.  They were letting him.  That fact alone made him jumpy.  Not a single English lady had given two figs about his trouble with the ranch in the entire time he’d been holed up in London.  He puffed out a breath, shoulders sinking.  He hadn’t meant to spill his story to these two women who looked as though they’d just as soon eat him as not.

“Truth be told,” he looked for a way to finish up, “I came over here to see if I could do better at dealing overseas than what I’ve been able to do domestically.  What with this new-fangled refrigeration in ships and all, we can sell to international markets.  But things didn’t work out the way I wanted, so now I’m going home to try something else.  I figured the least I could do to stop the trip from being a total bust is help Amelia out.”  He didn’t seem to be able to manage even that without awkwardness.

Sophia continued to flatter him with a banker’s smile.  “You’re so kind to swoop in when Amelia truly needs you,” she said.

“Well, ma’am, we all hit hard times.  It’s how we help each other out of those times that defines the measure of a man.”

“Yes.”  She ignored his statement and inched closer.  “I suppose you’re also thinking that it couldn’t hurt to have a beautiful woman on your arm as you continue to negotiate both business and high society.”

Eric blinked.  It would rightly help at that.  Too bad he hadn’t figured that one out at the beginning of his wasted trip.  “I suppose it could.”  He nodded and spun his hat faster.  It was a convenient barrier between him and Sophia’s hot, predatory smile.

“Of course, you would want to have the right woman on your arm, Mr. Quinlan, Eric.”  She spoke like she was stacking her words just so.  “We English are a funny lot.”

“You can say that again,” he said with a laugh before he could think better of it.

Sophia was so intent on what she wanted to say that she passed over the
comment, though Olivia scowled.

“We are so concerned with things like reputation and honor here in London,” Sophia said.

“Well, I-”

“The English don’t care to do business or associate with anyone who could be considered … fallen.”

“Well, I don’t rightly-”

“It would be bad for your business ventures, Eric, if you were to be known to associate with a woman of ill-repute.”  She paused.  Eric had the feeling he’d walked into an ambush.  “You do know that my dear Amelia is using a false name, do you not?”

“Her name’s not Amelia?”

“Her paternal grandmother’s name is Elphick.  Our family name is deLaurent.”

“Is that so?”

“I trust you have gleaned why she changed it when she took what she calls ‘respectable employment’.”

Eric might be a fool, but he wasn’t blind to what he saw around him.  The story of what had happened to Amelia’s family was as plain as day.  He knew more than a few whores who had changed their name when they took up the profession.  It seemed only natural that a fine woman would do the same to get away from that sort of thing.

“Ma’am, I don’t think that’s any of my business,” he answered her as diplomatically as he could.

“Oh, but it is your business that concerns me, Mr. Quinlan.”

She slid even closer to him across the sofa and laid a hand on his thigh, fingers curling toward his business.  Her eyelashes lowered just so and her glance flickered to the bulge in his pocket where he kept his wallet.  Yep, Amelia’s mother was definitely a whore.

“I wouldn’t want word to get out that an upstanding businessman such as yourself was keeping company with a fallen woman.”  She said it as though playing a wildcard.  “It could be … damaging.”

“I know your family’s experienced some troubles, ma’am,” he said as he tried to squirm away from her.  “I don’t rightly consider becoming a governess as being a fallen woman though.  In fact, all things considered, I think it reflects highly on her.”

Sophia laughed.  She squeezed his thigh.  Eric fumbled his hat as it spun, sending it careening across the room to land at Olivia’s feet.

Before Olivia could retrieve it, Sophia asked, “Are you really taking my darling daughter back to Montana out of the kindness of your heart or is this just an elaborate ruse to get under her skirts?”