“Not necessarily.” Emma took a seat in one of the rosewood chairs set before the fireplace. “Maybe I simply fancied the colors or the intricacy of the design.”
“No. You carefully considered your selections.” He lifted her first choice from the table. “Since you’ve confessed to being a pitiful seamstress, I suspect your choice of a sewing basket represents something more than a particular interest or talent. You mentioned that your mother attempted to teach you to sew. That suggests time spent together. Family time. Am I correct, Emma? Did your first choice represent family?”
Emma did so appreciate intelligence in a man. “Close, sir. But not exactly.”
“It’s Dair, and how was I mistaken?”
Emma stared at the snow globe and smiled. “I thought of my mother, of course, because of the subject, but the spools of thread represented me and my sisters.”
“Oh? How so?”
Now it was Emma’s turn to probe a bit. “The three spools of thread, the three colors. I have two sisters, and we each have a unique piece of jewelry that’s quite special to us. They’re alike but for the color of the stone. I’ve a ruby, my sister Mari has a sapphire.” She watched him closely and added, “My sister Katrina’s stone is emerald.”
She noted only a nod, no suspicious narrowing of his eyes or flick toward her neckline to where her ruby necklace ordinarily rested. Part of Kat’s plan was to keep the necklace hidden until such time that revealing it might help their search.
“You’re close to your sisters.” He stated it as a fact, not a question. She nodded and he asked, “Do you have other siblings?”
She smiled. “Three younger brothers.”
“Ah. The slingshot.”
“The boys and my father have contests at least once a week.”
He studied her, his silver eyes intent. “So, the first two choices are family, the third your work. That says quite a lot about you, Emma.”
The way he said her name, smooth and slow with lots of lip, she’d never heard an
m
spoken with quite so much…savor.
“Now, this…” He lifted her fourth choice, turned it up and down, and watched the snow settle over the mask. “This intrigues me. Care to explain the reason for this selection?”
Emma smoothed her skirts and offered what she hoped was an enigmatic smile. “I don’t believe I do.”
He looked at her for a long moment, and Emma felt a little rush of power at refusing such an intense personality as Alasdair MacRae. Then, he grinned at her, a delighted acknowledgment of her challenge. Emma found herself smiling right back at him.
“You’re a fascinating woman, Emma, and that brings us to your fifth choice.” He carried the ship snow globe to the window where he held it up to a beam of sunshine. “I find this choice the most intriguing. You took great care in making your final selection. What does it say about you?”
He looked at her, then, with eyes like silver shards. “What brings you here to Chatham Park, Emma McBride?”
Startled, she blinked. Panicked. Did they know she and Kat had come to steal? How? They hadn’t been here half an hour yet. What had she done wrong already? “Pardon me?”
“You’re a beautiful, enchanting woman. You could garner a dozen marriage proposals with little more than a smile at a society ball. Why have you entered this humiliating marriage competition?”
Humiliating. See, Kat? I was right.
He’d distracted her with this snow globe nonsense. She’d relaxed her guard. Yet, Emma was torn between feeling annoyed and defensive and feeling flattered. When was the last time a man the likes of Alasdair MacRae called her fascinating and enchanting? And danged if he didn’t have a point about the marriage contest. “Isn’t that being rather judgmental when you know nothing of my circumstance, Mr. MacRae?”
“Which brings us back to my question.” He idly shifted the snow globe from his right hand to his left. “What
is
your circumstance?”
Buying time, she said, “Why do you ask?”
Those broad shoulders shrugged. “I care about Jake’s nieces and nephew. They’ve had a difficult time, what with losing their parents and the realities of having Jake as their guardian. I want what’s best for them.”
The comment surprised her. Dair MacRae didn’t strike her as a man who’d pay attention to children, much less act as their champion. “You agree with Mr. Kimball’s plan to provide them a mother so he can abandon them and travel to Tibet?”
His lips twitched. “I’ve known Jake for quite some time. I suspect the outcome of these events will differ from what circumstances currently suggest. I know now that family is important to you. Are you here for the children, then? Are you looking for a ready-made family?”
Persistent fellow, Emma thought. “I am not lacking in family now, sir. Both my immediate family and extended family are quite large, and we have lots of children to shower with love. I’m not here because I have maternal urges that need soothing.”
Those intriguing gray eyes lit with amusement and just a hint of challenge. “So, other urges have brought you here?”
Emma’s cheeks flushed. Oh, for goodness’ sake. She was too old to blush. Attempting to turn the tables on him, she went on the offensive. “What brings
you
here, Mr. MacRae? Do you intend to help Mr. Kimball choose his bride? Offer a second opinion?”
Once again he held the barquentine snow globe up to the sun. Casually, he said, “Originally, I had no intentions of attending this…travesty. Emma, I’m here because of you.”
She cleared her throat, then asked, “Me?”
“I’ve told you I find you intriguing. I want to know more about you. I want to know everything about you.”
Oh, my. When she felt her hands tremble, she decided enough was enough. “Because I played pin the tail on the donkey?”
He laughed. “I find your spirit quite appealing, Emma.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“To Jake?” When she nodded, Dair MacRae once again shrugged. “It’s more interesting this way, don’t you agree? A secret between the two of us. It’s…” His gaze focused on her mouth as he said, “…intimate.”
Heat washed through her. She needed to fan her face. “But…but…wait a minute. I’m here trying to marry your friend.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Oh?” She said it with some bite to her tone.
Again, he showed her that smile. He stalked across the room, took hold of her hand, and tugged her to her feet. Then, he handed her the snow globe. “Explain to me about the ship, Emma. Tell me what it represents to you.”
She didn’t want to tell him about the ship, not now, but when he locked eyes with her, she felt compelled to respond. Could it be that the man made his living as a mesmerist? Fighting the pull of his gaze, she said, “Not until you choose. I want you to choose five snow globes.”
He paused, considered, then observed, “Ah, Emma, you are a true delight.”
Dair MacRae made quick work of his first three choices. Emma halfway expected him to select from the bawdy globes, but he stayed away from that row. He placed his globes on the table with hers. A shark. An eagle. A wolf. He was an animal lover? She wondered why he’d chosen those specific animals. Because each was a predator, perhaps? Recalling the intensity of his gaze upon occasion, Emma thought it fit.
She waited for him to make his fourth choice. Instead of reaching for a grizzly bear or even one of the dinosaurs, he surprised her by selecting one of her selections. The mask.
What was the message in that?
He watched her closely as he made his fifth selection, a truly fantastical depiction of a wizard staring into his crystal ball. Emma couldn’t begin to predict the reason behind that choice. “You are a most curious man,” she observed.
“And you are a captivating woman. Tell me about the ship.”
Bowing to what felt like the inevitable, she said, “Adventure. The ship represents adventure.”
He stared at her for a long, thoughtful moment, his gaze intense, before the light in his eyes turned knowing and he murmured, “Ah.”
Ah? What did he mean, ah? Annoyed, Emma folded her arms and asked him. “What do you mean, ‘ah’?”
He laughed and the sound skittered across her skin like a caress. “I mean ‘ah’ I’m going to enjoy this weekend.”
Emma didn’t know whether to take that as a threat or a promise.
“Now, I’ll leave you to settle in,” Dair MacRae continued. “Jake has asked all his guests to congregate on the back lawn in…” MacRae checked a pocket watch “…half an hour. I trust that will be convenient for you?”
He didn’t wait for her response, but turned to leave. Prodded by an emotion she didn’t understand, Emma stepped forward and insisted, “I
am
here for the contest, Mr. MacRae.”
At the doorway, he paused. “Dair. And there are many kinds of contests, Emma. You and I are engaged in one of infinite, intriguing possibilities. I look forward to discovering them…together.”
All the energy seemed sucked from the room as he shut the door behind him. Her knees weak, her heartbeat fluttering, Emma sank into the nearest seat. Contests. Adventure. Dair MacRae.
Deep within her, the McBride Menace mischief-maker stirred.
D
AIR RETREATED TO HIS OWN
suite across the hall from Emma. There, courtesy of transatlantic telegraph lines and Angus Fraser’s man, Tompkins, he reviewed his dossier on the eldest McBride sister once again.
So the woman dreamed of adventure, did she? He scanned the document, absently rubbing his temple. Eldest of six children. Responsible, civic-minded, former president of the Fort Worth Literary Society. A talented singer. An excellent shot.
Now, that’s curious.
But then, she
was
a Texan.
And very possibly perfect for his purposes. She might be the solution to his Piney Woods problem.
Dair was a believer in fate. Was fate the reason he and Emma met in front of a shop window moments before Sister Mary Margaret changed his plans? Perhaps. He hoped so. He’d like to get this situation settled so he could get on with the business of dying.
So, was Emma Tate the answer to his troubles? Reviewing the dossier once again, he turned to the page listing her romantic entanglements. Married at age twenty to a rancher, Casey Tate. Widowed three months later. No significant extended relationship since then.
On the surface she appeared perfect. He thought of what her snow globe choices had told him. She valued family, her work. He suspected the mask might have been a symbol of this masquerade that had brought her to Chatham Park. She’d expressed a need for adventure. Physical adventure, he wondered? Or…romantic?
The woman gave all appearances of being ripe for the plucking. His mouth twisted with a wry smile. Plucking her would present no hardship on his part. A pleasant change from his recent dealings with the duchess.
Dair walked to the window and gazed down at the lawn where the bride contestants and their chaperones had begun to congregate. The sisters had yet to put in an appearance. He’d find it interesting to see if they’d jump right into whatever mischief they’d planned, or if they’d take matters more slowly.
They were after pirate treasure, of course. Jake had relayed to Dair the story of his first meeting with Miss Katrina McBride in Galveston, Texas a few years ago when she’d attempted to purchase an altar cross from Jake’s father’s estate. She’d had personal reasons for wanting to buy the artifact from Jean Lafitte’s booty. Jake had personal reasons for refusing her.
Now, after a bit of study and debate, Jake and Dair had concluded that the sisters’ attempt to participate in Jake’s bride search was their effort to gain access to Chatham Park and its famous collections. Dair wondered if attempting to steal a treasure from Jake Kimball’s estate would pacify Emma’s thirst for adventure. Or, would she prefer an adventure more intimate in nature?
Dair knew which choice he’d prefer.
The intensity of his own reaction surprised him. Though he’d grown accustomed to using women, as a rule he found the practice distasteful. In Emma Tate’s case, he found the idea…delicious.
Admittedly, he need not use her at all. She had no grand fortune to steal, no significant jewels to rob, and Dair didn’t steal from those of limited means. In all honesty, romancing her might complicate his own purposes. She might be the type of woman to fulfill his request simply from the goodness of her heart. Such people did exist. Just not in the crowd he’d been running with of late.
Nevertheless, Dair found the idea of romancing Emma infinitely appealing. After all, considering his prognosis, it might well be his last chance.
Seducing her would answer any lingering questions he might have about her appropriateness for the job. From his experience, a woman’s true character invariably emerged once she shared a bed with a man. Just because he suspected the hand of fate in this enterprise didn’t mean that Emma Tate was the perfect person for the job. He wouldn’t know that until he knew the woman, inside and out. The best, the quickest way to learn the information was to seduce her.
There, wasn’t that tidy?
Not necessarily true, he was honest enough with himself to admit, but justifiable. Once he’d confirmed her character and secured her loyalty, her allegiance, he could spring his question upon her. If he did it right, she wouldn’t refuse him.
Dair had every intention of doing it right.
So, how best to proceed? He spent a few minutes considering, then discarding various options before settling on a plan. Best to move forward with caution, he thought. First, he’d simply spend time with her, probing her wishes and desires for bits of information not to be found in the pages of any dossier. Then, armed with her likes and dislikes, he would formulate his seduction strategy.
A check of the mantel clock revealed that the time had come for the next scene in this production. Dair headed downstairs to spend the remainder of the day getting to know Emma.
She displayed a genuine affection for children and proved her claim that she enjoyed fishing during a contest with Jake’s niece Caroline at Chatham Park’s picturesque lake. When that was done, Dair and Caroline spent some time skipping rocks, until the girl joined Emma in picking wildflowers while he stretched out on a quilt beneath the warm afternoon sun. As Dair enjoyed the simple pleasure of watching a woman and child fill a white wicker basket with flowers of pink and blue, he mentally prioritized the other pieces of information he wished to learn.