Grace (The Marriage Market Book 2) (10 page)

              "There's just one tiny thing more," Effie sighed. "Jonah Blackthorn was asking about us at the front desk when I came in."

Grace bolted to her feet and began to pace.

"Oh no, did they tell him anything? Did he take a room here? What are we going to do now?"

              "Grace, calm yourself. See, this is just why I didn't want to tell you," Effie scolded.  "He's staying at the Palace and the clerk didn't tell him a thing. I truly don't think the day clerk has ever seen us. We checked in at night and the one morning we left here, we went out the dining room exit. The only time he could have taken notice of us was when we came downstairs that first morning and I remember there were several guests waiting to check in or out. No, I'm fairly certain the only way he could describe us is as Ermengarde and Hortense Basenfelder."

Collapsing onto a chair, Grace chewed her nail, her foot tapping in agitation.

"So you actually saw Jonah?" she asked. "How did he look?"

"Grace!"

              "No, I mean, was he all right. We did leave him in a precarious position. I was just wondering if he was any the worse for wear," Grace explained, not able to hide her blush.

              "He's fine," snapped Effie, "although why you should care, I can't imagine. The man is nothing but a bounty hunter."

"That's not entirely true, Effie. He's actually a Pinkerton agent, a defender of the law. I'll bet he's caught hundreds of criminals and brought them to justice. Some people probably consider him a hero," she insisted.

              "Yes, I'm sure his mother, whatever her name is, in Baltimore thinks he's just grand. You need to get it through your head that it's all about the money."

              "To be fair, he doesn't know the kind of man Horace is. Maybe he thought he was just delivering a jittery bride to her loving fiancé."

              "Fine, go on defending him if that's what you want. I just hope you're still defending him while Horace is raping you and Jonah is walking away with five thousand dollars in his pocket!"

              Effie turned from the basin where she was washing her hands and face to see Grace crumpled in the chair, her face buried in her hands. Instantly Effie was on her knees at her side, enfolding her friend into her arms.

              "I'm sorry, so sorry," she cried. "I never should have said such things, knowing you harbor tender feelings for Mr. Blackthorn. Maybe you're right and he does have some redeeming qualities," she offered as she rubbed Grace's back gently.

              "No," Grace said, lifting her head and wiping her tears. "You've been right about him all along. He's no better than a mercenary. I mustn't let my silly emotions cloud my judgment. It's just that he was so…"

              "Love isn't silly, Grace, not silly at all," Effie offered, handing Grace a handkerchief. "We can't always help what we feel. I think that's why our mothers were so careful about who we socialized with. They didn't want to take the chance we would fall in love with someone totally unsuitable."

"Yes, and Horace Remington is so eminently suitable," Grace snorted tearfully.

"I can think of a few things he's suitable for," Effie drawled, "but you're not one of them. Come on and wash your face and we'll order lunch. I'm thinking of something really decadent. In fact, maybe we should only have dessert for lunch. Or we could have soup and then a big fat piece of chocolate cake."

              "Skip the soup," Grace replied. "I'm for having a big glass of milk and cake. Then we could play some card games and take a rest. I don't think I'll be sleeping much tonight, now that I know Horace is here in San Francisco."

              They boarded the ship under cover of darkness in the early morning hours. With very little luggage, there was no need for anything other than a hack. A seaman with a lantern showed them to their cabin and locking the stout door behind them they fell into bed and slept well for the first time in days.

              Last night they'd taken leisurely baths at their hotel and gladly disposed of their wigs and garments from the theater after Effie purloined two heavy cloaks from the cloak room when the attendant wasn't looking. Those would be enough to cover them until they managed to board their ship.

              Upon awaking and discovering they were well underway they dressed in their freshly cleaned traveling suits and headed to breakfast.

              Grace smiled, loving the feel of her hair for the first time in her life. So what if her curls were slightly unmanageable, they were her own and she wasn't sweating under a heavy mass of someone else's hair. With a spring in her step, she realized their journey was almost over. Soon they would arrive in Seattle, rescue Amelia and decide what their next step would be.

              "I don't think I've ever told you this, Effie," she said with a smile as they wove their way  down the corridor, "but when I marry I'll inherit a sizable fortune. I only wish I could access it now. Then I'd never have to go home if I didn't want to."

"Really?"

              "Yes, my grandmother was a very forward thinking woman. She not only left me a nice dowry, but money of my own. I just have to be married to touch it. I guess she wasn't a quite liberated enough."

              "Still, it was kind of her to make sure you have something of your own even your husband can't touch. I'd say that was pretty progressive. Do you suppose Horace's family is not quite as well off as they would like everyone to think? Maybe he knows about your fortune."

              "I doubt it. I've certainly never mentioned it, but there is the chance my mother has. She'd like for them to think our marriage would benefit them more than it would us. Of course, the main attraction for her is the Remington's social standing."

"More important than your happiness?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Grace sighed as they entered the dining room.

              Suddenly both women froze as a man stepped from behind them. Moving between them, he grasped an arm of each woman and steered them to a table in the corner.

              "Allow me to seat you for breakfast," he drawled congenially as he plopped them each onto a chair and took the one between them. Smoothly, he removed the reticule from Effie's arm and dropped it to the floor by the leg of his chair, flinching at the heavy sound it made and knowing she had a small gun inside.

              "Really, Miss Lane," he cautioned, sadly shaking his head. "One day that's going to get you into serious trouble. Now, what would you like to order?" he asked as the server approached.

"What are you doing here?" Grace hissed, yanking her arm from his grip.

              "Why traveling to Seattle to see an old friend, same as you. I'll have steak and eggs with some fried potatoes and a pot of black coffee."

              "Gee and I was hoping you were still wandering around in your underclothes somewhere outside Omaha," Grace cooed, snapping her napkin open. "I'll have the same."

              "My you've developed quite an appetite compared to the dainty little meals you had on the train. Or was that just to convince me you were a perfect little lady?" he asked with a smirk.

              "Not at all, I suddenly feel the need to have a sharp knife in my hand," Grace countered sweetly.

"What will you have, Miss?" the server asked Effie, plucking at his collar.

              "I believe I'll have a whet stone," Effie replied. "No? All right, the same then. How did you find us, Mr. Blackthorn? Any paid assassins lurking about?"

              "Miss Lane, you wound me," Jonah said, patting his chest. "As a gentleman, I feel bound to assist a damsel in distress. I am here to offer my services in protecting your dear friend, Miss Wentworth."

              "Actually, Mr. Blackthorn, we weren't in distress until you appeared," Grace spat out, nearly quivering with anger. "I would have thought being bested by two helpless women, 'damsels in distress', would be enough for any man. Perhaps you'd better stay away from the ship's rail on this voyage unless you're a very strong long-distance swimmer."

Watching his lips thin, Grace smiled in delight.

              "Believe me, Grace, you only got away with what happened in Omaha because I didn't want to hurt you or your partner in crime. If you'd been men, the outcome would have been very different, I can assure you."

              "Sounds like sour grapes to me, Effie," she said with a pitying expression. "It's sad when a man is so insecure he can't admit to being beaten at his own game. Coffee, Mr. Blackthorn?"

              "No one's been beaten," he growled, "at least not yet, but there's a good chance a couple of young ladies may yet get their bustles blistered."

              "Ah, resorting to threats is usually a man's last alternative," Effie said with fake sympathy as she patted his hand. "I'll have some coffee, Grace."

"Listen you two; I'm trying to help you."

"Help us what, Mr. Blackthorn? Put five thousand dollars in your pocket?"

"No, I've resigned from the case," Jonah said casually cutting into his steak.

"Why?" Grace demanded.

              "Horace Remington is an evil man with some seriously deviant habits. I did some checking and discovered a number of complaints that never made it in front of a judge."

"What sort of complaints?" Effie asked quietly.

"Nothing I would care to discuss in polite company. Let's just say he'll get his hands on Grace over my dead body. It seems a prominent name and money goes a long way in obstructing the legal system."

"When did you decide you wanted to help us?" Grace asked with suspicion in her eyes.

"Before we ever reached Omaha I suspected there was more to the story than I'd been told. You were too sweet to run out on a man you truly loved and Remington was in much too big of a frenzy to get you back. I sent off some wires at one of our stops and hoped to have an answer waiting for me in Omaha. Then we had our little misunderstanding, which I will deal with at a later date, and you were gone before I could tell you."

              "If you knew who I was, why did you go along with it, I mean the trip to the fort and everything?"

              "I was curious to see how far you would carry your deception. I wanted to see what you would do when we got to the fort and there was no father to meet you. Pretty foolish of me in hindsight, but at that point I had no way of knowing just how desperate you and Miss Trigger-Happy here were," he replied, nodding at Effie. "By the way, Miss Lane, if you ever pull a gun on me again, you'd better use it because when I take it away from you I will make you one sorry little lady."

              "Don't threaten me, Mr. Blackthorn," Effie said inspecting her knife before cutting a bite of steak. "I'd do anything to protect my friends."

"An admirable trait, Miss Lane, just remember what I've said."

"How do we know we can trust you, that you're telling the truth? Maybe you have someone in Seattle ready to grab Grace the moment we get off this ship."

              "No one better put their hands on Grace," he growled with a look in his eyes that was decidedly possessive. "I have friends in Seattle, good friends that will help us and hide Grace if necessary. Remington is either right behind us or will be shortly. He's hired a group of men whose reputations are less than savory."

              "You're wrong, Mr. Blackthorn. I've met those men and they showed me nothing but respect," Effie insisted.

              "Those respectful men are part of a gang that has been wanted in Nebraska for several years, Miss Lane. Yes, some of them appear to be fairly decent men fallen in with the wrong associates, but others would kill their grandmothers if the price was right. Don't assume because they were decent to you on a crowded street they wouldn't turn Grace over to Remington in a heartbeat. Add to that the fact the agency has most likely assigned another agent to the case at the insistence of Mrs. Wentworth. He's likely to be along sooner rather than later."

"I see," Effie said thoughtfully. "What do you think Grace? Do we trust him?"

"I don't think we have much choice, Effie," Grace replied stirring her coffee.

"Of course, there's only one sure way to protect you from Horace," Jonah said with a slight smile.

"Oh, what's that?" Picking up her cup, Grace took a sip and waited.

"Marry me."

              Graces' hand tipped and her coffee poured slowly out of her cup, splashing onto her saucer until Jonah took it from her numb fingers.

              "Think about it, Grace. As my wife, you'll have my protection and will no longer be available for marriage. Remington might as well pack up his cohorts and head east. You'll be out of his reach. We met up in Omaha and rode the same train to San Francisco. He knows what kind of man I am. I made it pretty clear to him if he hurt you in any way, I'd have to kill him. If you were my wife, he'd have no doubt. For all his vicious ways with women, he's not anxious to take on a man. Plus he values his affluent lifestyle too much to give it up."

              Grace waited for Effie to protest, and when she didn't, she looked at her oddly before speaking.

"Why would you suggest this, Mr. Blackthorn? What's in it for you?"

Jonah didn't hesitate; he looked directly into her eyes with an expression that had her toes curling and her heart speeding up.

              "Why I get you, Miss Wentworth. Surely you know I've been fascinated with you since I got on the train in Chicago. That doesn't happen to me, especially when I'm on a case. I'm strictly a no nonsense man. However, I am partial to red hair and you do have the correct number of freckles scattered across your nose," he teased, laughing when her hand flew up to cover her cheeks.

              "I'm not a wealthy man, Grace, but I do have a stake. It's more than enough to make a fresh start in Seattle and give you a decent home. I'll take care of you, honey."

              "But we hardly know one another. What if we don't suit?" Grace asked, looking down at her hands.

              "I'll tell you what," Jonah sighed as though he was not at all sure he wanted to speak the words. "Give me a year and if you're unhappy, I'll give you your freedom."

              "So basically you'd like me to trade one form of servitude for another. It's either you or Horace."

"I hardly think marriage to me should be considered servitude," he said rather sharply.

              "What would you call it?  You'll provide a home and I'll cook and clean and wait on you hand and foot, like a good wife should."

              "Now listen here, Grace. I don't need anyone to wait on me hand and foot. I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself."

              "That's good, Jonah, because I usually look after myself too. I also am a staunch believer in women's rights and I don't care much for men who drink."

"That's good, because I don't drink, much," he shot back.

Grace felt her resolve weakening and quickly spoke her piece.

"I'll marry you for six months, Mr. Blackthorn and at that time we will reassess our situation. If as you said, I am unhappy, I'll hold you to your promise of granting me a divorce."

"Nine months," he countered, "and not a day less."

"Done."

              "Unless of course, there is the possibility of children," he added. "If there is a child, the deal is off and we stay husband and wife."

              "I don't believe that's going to be an issue, Mr. Blackthorn. You see, I want my own bedroom."

"Now wait just a damn minute," he began.

              "Take it or leave it," Grace said rising. "I'll certainly understand if you choose to withdraw your offer. It will of course convince me your so called attraction to me is merely physical and has nothing whatsoever to do with any desire to protect me."

              Jonah rose and towered over her, a lock of his dark hair falling onto his forehead. Grace had the strongest urge to brush it back but managed to control it. His eyes did things to her she never expected and she wondered if she would have the strength of conviction to deny him should he come into her room and take her in his arms. Pushing the traitorous thoughts away, she waited.

              "I'll make the arrangements with the captain," he said, his tone clipped. "Meet me in his quarters at one this afternoon. Enjoy the rest of your breakfast ladies," he said, walking away.

"My, I'm impressed," Effie said as Grace sat back down.

"In what way?"

              "The way you handled the situation, but mostly the way you handled Jonah. Not that he didn't have it coming mind you, but still, you were remarkable."