Grayson Brothers Series Boxed Set (4 books in 1) (97 page)

Read Grayson Brothers Series Boxed Set (4 books in 1) Online

Authors: Wendy Lindstrom

Tags: #Fredonia New York, #Brothers, #Anthology

“Somewhere, yes. And he’s coming back.”

“I got to go,” Adam yelled to Rebecca then ran for the house.

Faith followed him, not caring if the neighbors saw her mad flight. She wanted to get inside and bar the door. She wished she could run for Duke, but how could she ask for his help without confessing everything? What a mess she’d made for herself. What a grave she’d dug when she cheated Stone of the prize he wanted.

Faith gathered at the table with her aunts and slowly formed a plan. At nine-thirty that night, she slipped out to the greenhouse with Aster and Iris, leaving Tansy and Dahlia behind to guard Adam and Cora. She lit a lantern on the counter then lowered the wick to keep the interior deeply shadowed. They armed themselves with clubs and a strong rope then crouched between flats of plants to wait for the judge.

A few minutes after ten o’clock, the door swung open. Iris leapt forward with a grating growl and beaned the man on the head with a three foot piece of leftover lumber. He clutched his head and fell into a flat of wintergreen. Aster leapt at him with her club, and Faith rushed forward with the rope.

“Stop!” Patrick Lyons thrust his hand up to block Aster’s swing. “Are you women daft?”

“Patrick?” Iris dropped to her knees beside him. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting killed by crazy women.” He rubbed his head and pushed to his elbow. “What did you hit me with? I’m bleeding like a stuck pig.”

Faith rushed to the counter and raised the lantern wick. The right side of Patrick’s forehead was covered in blood. “Good grief,” she said, grabbing a clean linen off the shelf. She rushed it to Iris, who pressed it to Patrick’s head. “You stupid man. Don’t you ever sneak in here again.”

“Sneak?” He winced. “I sent a note.”

They all gaped at him.

“You idiot!” Iris punched his shoulder. “I didn’t get the note. Some white-haired man gave it to Cora, and it scared us half to death.”

“I had one of the men I work with deliver it.” He groaned and sat up. “I told him to give it to the pretty lady with black hair.”

“Well, he forgot that part because he gave it to a four-year-old girl and told her to give it to her mother.”

Faith’s legs gave out and she sank to her knees. “Patrick, if I had any strength left, I’d wallop you again. You just scared ten years off my life.”

“Mine too,” Aster said, “and I don’t have any to spare.” She nodded to Iris. “Finish him off.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Iris pinched his arm. “Are you insane?”

“I’m injured, and my ass is planted in six inches of wet soil. I’m about to sprout mushrooms in places I can’t mention.”

She stood and tugged him to his feet. “Come over to the counter so I can patch you up.”

Faith’s legs quaked as she got up, but she needed to make sure Patrick was all right, and that he wouldn’t tell Duke what happened out here.

Iris dabbed the blood off his forehead and Faith was relieved to see only a small gash in his hairline.

Iris scowled. “You’re going to have a goose egg and a sore head for a while, but you’ll survive. Now, what was that note all about?”

“This.” He pulled a folded paper from his pocket. “I got your letter, but I’m not taking no for an answer, Iris. You care about me. I know you do. And I care enough to marry you.”

Faith exchanged a surprised look with Aster. Patrick had teased Iris, but no one thought he was serious. At least, Faith hadn’t.

Iris pushed the paper away. “Stand still so I can finish this.”

Patrick scowled, and Faith wanted to leave them to their private conversation. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell anyone about what happened here tonight,” she said, praying he wouldn’t ask for an explanation.

He braced his elbow on the counter. “No one would believe me anyhow.” He tipped his head so Iris could clean the gash with iodine. “What are you afraid of, Iris?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing. This gash on your head should prove that.”

But Faith could see Iris was afraid: She wouldn’t meet Patrick’s eyes, and her fingers trembled as she taped a thick pad of gauze over the bleeding wound.

“Done.” Iris stepped away. “Go home, farm boy.”

He sighed and asked, “Are you afraid you won’t live up to my expectations?”

“I’m afraid you won’t live up to mine.” She threw the towel at his chest then stormed outside, letting the door bang shut behind her.

Faith’s jaw dropped, but Aster caught her hand. “Come on, honey, let’s go back to the house and figure out how you’re going to get rid of that property.”

Chapter Twenty-four

Faith had Iris wrap her hair into a pretty twist in back of her head then added a sprig of forget-me-nots to match her new blue dress. The outfit was so beautiful and gay, Faith wished she could sneak into the Barkers’ foyer and peek in their big beveled mirror.

To celebrate Duke’s thirty-first birthday, they were going to Union Hall to see Ashton’s theater company present Rip Van Winkle. She heard him knock at the door then Cora’s feet pounding across the floor. The little girl couldn’t wait to give Duke his birthday gift.

Faith picked up her reticule and left the room. Cyrus was in the parlor with Tansy, building a window seat she wanted. They all greeted Duke, but Cora was too excited to mind her manners. “We made a present for you,” she said, interrupting.

“Is that so?” Duke knelt and tweaked the child’s belly “Whoa! Are you getting fat, princess?”

Cora giggled. “I got your present under my shirt.”

“Is that why you’re all lumpy?” He tickled her side, and she danced away.

Faith watched her handsome suitor tease her daughter. He wore a navy blue suit and a starched white shirt that made his smile seem wider and brighter. He raised his eyes to hers, and she wanted to rush into his arms, into his passion.

“This will make your shoulder better,” Cora said, interrupting their private exchange.

Adam looked up from the wing chair where he was reading. “Well, give it to him before you bust a seam.”

“Surprise!” Cora pulled a drawstring bag filled with field corn from beneath her shirt and thrust it at Duke.

His expression made Faith laugh. He had no idea what he was holding.

“It’s a heating bag,” she said. “Heat the corn in the oven then pour it back into the bag and pull the draw cord tight to close it. The corn will stay hot for about half an hour, and the heat will feel good on your shoulder.”

He bounced the bag in his palm a couple of times then grinned at Cora. “I’ll bet this was your idea.”

“Nope.” She shook her head and pointed at Adam.

Duke’s eyebrow lifted, and he looked at Adam, who slouched down in the chair.

“It’s just a bag of corn,” the boy said.

“Well, it’s a smart idea and a perfect gift. My shoulder says thanks for being such an intelligent young man.”

Adam rolled his eyes, but Faith noticed his pleased look. “Mama sewed the bag, and I put the cord in by myself,” Cora said.

As was becoming his habit, Duke spoiled the children, and even Faith’s aunts, with licorice sticks before he whisked her outside.

“Seventeen days, and you’ll be Mrs. Grayson,” he said, pulling her behind a tree for a kiss.

A reckless thrill rushed through her, as if she were standing on the roof of her three-story greenhouse.

She would be his wife.

His lover.

The mother of his children.

And the one who deceived him each day of their lives.

She couldn’t do it.

She had to do it.

Once they jumped, there would be no turning back. Somewhere, someday, the truth would come out and they would crash to the hard, rock-strewn earth below.

Duke leaned back and rubbed her arms. “Why are you trembling?”

“I’ve never seen a theater performance.”

“You’ll love it. No arrogant doctor to battle, no nasty competitor to attack you, just an evening of entertainment for you to enjoy.”

“Speaking of the doctor, he visited my bathhouse yesterday” She recounted Aster’s story about massaging the doctor’s posterior, and Duke was howling with laughter when they reached Union Hall on Main Street.

The second floor was jammed with people. Heavy velvet draperies covered tall windows on the north and south ends of the spacious room, and a huge crystal chandelier hung in the center of the ceiling.

“Impressive,” she said then moved her gaze to Duke who was stunningly handsome in his crisp white shirt and gabardine suit with his shiny dark hair combed back and dipping slightly over his forehead. “Very impressive.”

He grinned. “Likewise.”

With immense pride, she took his arm, honored to be this man’s choice. Of all the women vying for his attention, he’d chosen her. She smiled with pleasure as he escorted her to the front row where Claire and Boyd were sitting.

“You’re going to love the performance,” Claire said, greeting her with warmth. “Ashton’s troop is the best.”

“That’s what I told her,” Duke said, giving Boyd a nod then settling himself in the chair beside Faith. She liked the feel of his shoulder against hers, and the way he linked her nervous fingers with his. Maybe his actions were too familiar for polite society, but she couldn’t give up his solid, steadying hand.

They would be married soon, and his strong hands would touch more than her fingers. Faith’s stomach dipped and she pressed her palm against it to settle herself. Duke would be considerate. He would keep his big hands gentle and not overpower her. He would control his strong, muscled body and make love to her. Soon she would know him intimately. And he would know her, and her lack of experience.

Anxiety flooded her as Duke rubbed his thumb over her hand and pointed out friends in the audience. Then Ashton’s troop came out and the performance began. In minutes the drama captured her attention so completely, she lost track of time. When the artists gave their final bow to a roaring applause, her chest expanded with joy. Never had she been so enthralled in her life. She wanted Adam and Cora to experience this wonder. She wanted her aunts to find decent, honorable men who would bring them to lawn parties and heartwarming performances. And she wanted to spend her life at Duke’s side, sharing these occasions without a heart full of guilt.

Chapter Twenty-five

Flutter-birds beat their wings in Faith’s stomach, but she spoke her wedding vows with assurance. She stood beneath the leafy maple tree with Duke where he had proposed, her emotions fluctuating between joy that she was marrying a man she was falling in love with, and terror that Duke would someday hate her for the colossal crime she was committing against him.

Their families were there to witness and celebrate their marriage on the balmy August afternoon. Adam gave her away, looking so grown-up in his new suit it made Faith’s heart swell with pride. Iris stood with Faith wearing a satisfied smile on her face, but Radford stood beside his brother looking concerned.

Holding Duke’s strong hand, Faith looked into his handsome face and promised to love and honor him.

“Forever,” she mouthed silently, and the affirmation she saw in his eyes made her heart turn over in her chest. She’d accepted his proposal in the shadowy night, misrepresenting herself. Now she would commit her heart, body, and soul in the light of day and pray it would be enough. Together they would sink their roots into their marriage garden and grow strong enough to weather any storms. She would be diligent in keeping the weeds of life from choking them. She would bloom for him and bring sunshine and nourishment to his life.

“I, Duke Halford Grayson, take Faith Celia Wilkins to be my wife... to have and to hold from this day forward...” He looked deep into her eyes while promising to stand beside her through all troubles, to honor and protect her, and to love her. “I promise,” he mouthed.

A tear rolled over her lashes and streaked down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb as he leaned down to seal their vows with a kiss.

An instant later, Iris gave Faith an exuberant hug then passed her to Radford, who welcomed her into the family with a more reserved, gentlemanly embrace.

Duke hugged his mother, but before she turned him loose, she caught Faith’s hand and pulled her to Duke’s side. She held their hands, and spoke to them both. “I never realized how hard it would be to see my last son marry and leave home, but I couldn’t be happier for you two.” Her eyes sparkled with moisture and sincerity. “Love requires you to be patient, strong, and wise. Be faithful, share your troubles, and never lie to each other. Be kind and respectful and forgiving. And when it rains, think about this glorious sunny day when you promised to love each other.”

“We will,” Duke said, promising for both of them.

“Enjoy each moment together as if it were your last because you just... you never...” She bit her lip, and tears appeared. “Oh, honey, I wish your father were here. He’d be so proud of you.” She broke down and buried her face against Duke’s chest.

The onslaught of Nancy’s tears was like a purge to those around her. Everyone standing in that pretty field of wildflowers had once lost someone they loved. The ladies sought handkerchiefs to wipe their eyes. The men stood silent and stiff, chins tucked to hold back their emotions. And Faith no longer felt embarrassed about her own wobbly feelings.

Nancy lifted her head and gasped when she saw everyone weeping. “Dear God, what have I started here?”

“An intense craving for a glass of wine,” Aster said drolly, causing watery laughs in the group.

Nancy straightened her pretty green shirtwaist. “Amen to that, Aster. And amen to this marriage.” She caught Faith’s hand and pulled her into a warm, motherly hug. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart. Now I promise to quit raining on this joyful, sunny day and help you and my son celebrate.”

Her announcement brought a deep sense of homecoming and warmth to Faith, who needed Nancy’s motherly welcome. She’d barely begun to imagine what it might mean to her to have such a woman for a mother-in-law.

They hugged and laughed beneath the maple tree then walked to Radford and Evelyn’s house for a small celebration.

With her husband beside her, Faith met the rest of her guests. Duke and his mother invited both mill crews and their families. Amelia’s mother, Victoria, had come with her new husband Jeb. Agatha Brown and Duke’s mother were doting on the children, including Adam and Cora, like two contented grandmothers.

Agatha slipped her arm around Adam, but spoke to Duke. “You’re getting a fine young man here.”

Duke gave her a nod. “I agree, Mrs. Brown.”

“Did you see those beautiful flower boxes Adam built for me? They’re chock full of pink impatiens. Why, my store has never looked so nice.”

“Looks like a new place,” Duke said.

Adam’s cheeks flushed, but Faith could see how pleased he was by Agatha’s praise, and how manly he was becoming as he escorted Agatha to a chair on the porch.

She felt Duke’s arms slip around her waist, and she leaned into his embrace. “What a lovely group of friends and family you have.”

“Got everyone’s names memorized?” he teased.

“Ask me that on our twentieth anniversary.”

He laughed and nuzzled her neck. “Speaking of friends, looks like Aster and the doctor are getting friendly over there.”

Faith’s heart jolted then shuddered with relief when she saw them standing near the porch, a proper distance apart. They were squabbling over something, but Faith noticed a softer and warmer side to Aster, and the doctor seemed less arrogant than usual.

Throughout the evening, Faith kept an eye on her aunts, but they were too busy serving food and cake to misbehave. Faith’s body hummed with an intense awareness of Duke. Each touch of his hand against her back thrilled her. Every private glance from his dark eyes was filled with heat and longing. Despite her nerves, she yearned to be skin-to-skin with him and consummate their vows.

In the early evening, he slipped his arms around her and pulled her against his muscled body. “Let’s sneak away right now,” he said, his voice husky.

“To your brother’s hayloft?”

His low chuckle poured over her like warm rain after a long dry summer, and she basked in his hug. “Don’t tempt me.” His lips and teeth nibbled her ear. “I have a place you’ll like better.”

“Then let’s say good-bye.”

“Let’s sneak away. Your aunts will see the children home and keep them entertained for the night.” He linked fingers with her. “It’s time for us to celebrate alone.”

Her thudding heart made it difficult to act casual as she strolled across the yard on Duke’s arm. But when he ducked behind the house and pulled her out of sight, she was breathless and giggling. “I like this business of sneaking away together.”

He had the most pleased smile on his face she’d ever seen. “Gather your skirt,” he said. She clutched the silk fabric in her fists, and he lifted her over the fence. A second later, he braced his hands on the pile of fieldstones and swung his feet over like a young boy. “We’ve escaped,” he said, his eyes alight. “Onward.”

She laughed and took his arm. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

He had been teasing her for three weeks, but she suspected they would stay at the Taylor Hotel by the Common.

“I need to stop home to get my bag,” she said, but when they turned down Mill Street, he surprised her by stopping in front of the greenhouse. “My bag is at the—”

He put his finger over her lips. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“I’m going to give you your surprise.”

She shut her eyes. “What are you up to?”

“No peeking.”

She gasped as he lifted her in his arms. “You’re going to hurt your shoulder and ruin all our progress.”

He started walking. “We aren’t going far. Just keep your eyes closed.”

“You could make this more fun by kissing me.”

He laughed and gave her a light kiss on the lips. Seconds later he stopped. “You can open your eyes now.” The instant her lashes lifted, he turned her to face the Colburn house she had wanted to buy. “I hope you like our new home.”

She stared in disbelief.

“It’s ours.”

It couldn’t be. She looked at her husband. “You bought the house?”

“I did.”

“You bought it?”

He nodded, his grin saying he was mighty pleased with himself and proud of his gift to her.

“You rat!” She thumped her fist against his chest. “You knew this whole time and let me suffer, watching people move in furniture, knowing I would never have a chance—”

“It was a surprise,” he said gently.

“My heart’s been breaking for three weeks because... oh, Duke, I love it.” She hugged his neck. “Thank you.”

“Well, that’s better than getting punched.”

Her face heated and she rubbed his chest where she’d hit him. “Thank you for the wonderful surprise.”

He carried her up the steps onto the front porch. “You didn’t think we were going to live with my mother or your aunts, did you?”

With only three weeks between his proposal and their wedding, she hadn’t known what to think about their living arrangements, and had uneasily left the decision to him. It was his town, his money, his choice. But she hadn’t expected him to buy a house, and certainly not the one she dreamed of owning.

He feigned a gasp. “Open the door so I can carry you inside before my arms fall off.”

She laughed and hugged his neck. “I’m glad you chose me to be your wife.”

A pleased grin tipped his lips. “So am I, Faith. Now open the door and let me carry you over the threshold before I collapse.”

She turned the doorknob and pushed it open.

He groaned and staggered inside, making her laughter the first sound to fill their house. With sure steps, he strode through a spacious foyer and into a large parlor where he twirled her in a circle. “What do you think?”

He stood her beside him, and Faith could only stare. When she’d seen the house three months earlier, it had been bare to the floor.

“I didn’t want to bring you into an empty house. My mother and the girls outfitted the parlor for us, and chose necessities for the other rooms, but if you don’t like the furnishings we can replace them.”

For the first time that day Duke looked uncertain. She turned a slow circle, drinking in the garden setting, the deep green parlor furniture, the plush rug of browns, golds, and greens. Tiny green-stemmed wildflowers of aster, bee balm, forget-me-nots, and pink pasture roses patterned the cream-colored walls. She crossed the carpet and touched a bouquet, feeling the dried paint beneath her fingers. Tansy had given her this gift by painting these delicate flowers for her.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. Sateen drapes of tan and buff with brown tassel tie-backs covered three large windows that were partially open to let in the evening light and fresh air. The room was gorgeous. “I can’t believe this is our home.” She looped her arms around Duke’s warm neck. “I’m going to love being your wife.”

Relief filled his eyes as he lowered his head to kiss her. They shared their first passionate kiss as husband and wife in their parlor.

He held her against him, his arm banding her back as they swayed together, moving to the slow, seductive rhythm of his delving, stroking tongue. Heat burned through her, and she basked in the sound of his low groan. They would consummate their vows in this house tonight.

“I never got my bag,” she whispered against his mouth.

“Tansy put it in our bedchamber.”

“So my aunts knew about this too.”

“We were all plotting against you, darling.”

She sighed and rubbed her palm over his chest. “Thank you for the best day of my life.”

“I want it to be the best night of your life, too.”

By the look in his eyes, they would be sharing their new bed soon. She knew what was required of her, and was more than willing to lie with her husband. But what if he sensed her inexperience and asked questions she couldn’t answer?

“Can I see the house before we…before I change?”

“That’s what I’d planned to do before you distracted me.” He grinned and took her hand. “Kitchen first.” A bottle of red wine sat on the counter with two glasses that he promptly filled. “Do you think we can navigate while carrying these?”

She accepted the glass with a smile. “If I can cross a rutted field in the dark without spilling a drop of wine, I think I can manage a hardwood floor and a few doorways.”

He tapped his glass to hers. “Welcome to your new home, Mrs. Grayson.”

“Our home.” She lifted her glass to toast him. “I wish I had something to give you in return.”

He linked his fingers with hers. “You’re all I want.”

“I hope that never changes,” she whispered, paralyzed with fear to think, to know that this sweet bliss could shatter at any moment.

He lit a lantern then led her through the dining room, a small music room, and a large water closet downstairs. Upstairs, they passed four partially furnished bedrooms, two of which Cora and Adam would use, and at the back of the house a small nursery connected to a master bedchamber as big as their parlor.

Faith trailed her fingers across a tall chiffonier and matching dresser in a lustrous cherrywood that brought a rich warmth to the room. Awed by luxury she never thought to enjoy, she admired the dressing table with a beveled oval mirror—and was shocked by the reflection of a bride in her finest dress standing beside her husband. A huge canopy bed loomed behind them, with a bouquet of herbs and wildflowers lying on the white linen pillowcase.

Their eyes met in the mirror, his dark and too compelling. Faith’s breath locked in her chest, and she waited for him, for whatever he might expect of his wife.

“Somebody left a salad on our bed,” he said, nodding toward the herbs.

Her breath shuddered out and she brought her glass to her mouth and finished the last drops of her wine. She set the empty glass on the bed stand then picked up the bouquet. “It’s a tussie-mussie,” she said. The stems were tucked into a white lace doily and tied bouquet fashion with a pink ribbon. “It’s from my aunts. Tansy must have left it when she brought my bag.”

Duke leaned his shoulder against the carved cherry bedpost, and finished his wine. “What exactly is a tussie-mussie?”

“It can be a gift. Or a curse. It depends on what herbs you put in it.” She skirted the bed to show him the herbs. “Basil is for love and good wishes, peppermint-scented geranium for happiness, and lavender for devotion.” She brushed her finger over a daisy-like white flower with a deep yellow center. “Chamomile is for wisdom and fortitude.” Which she would surely need to get through her wedding night. “This blue, star-shaped flower is borage for bravery.” A virtue she could use more of right now. “And this wild rose is for love.”

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