The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons (16 page)

“Including women of ill repute?” Father busied himself with a sheaf of papers, a common tactic that prevented him from making eye contact with his son.

Daniel couldn’t help the laugh that gurgled out his throat. “It is a home for women who need help. Don’t politicians want to improve the lives of their constituents?”

“I’m concerned for your reputation. And mine. If you refuse to help me in Washington, I ask that you don’t harm me, either. To that end, shouldn’t you be more concerned with impressing Theodora Humphries than charity cases? Or cavorting with females?”

“Cavorting? I’m designing a house, Father, not frolicking in the park.” Some things never changed. Daniel stood and stepped toward the door.

“Aren’t you?” Father stood. “What about the Price girl?”

So this was why Josie seemed so distressed, why she’d wandered into the cable car’s path. He swallowed back bile. “What did you say to her?”

Father lifted his hands, a gesture of innocence. “Pleasantries. Her family has good standing and money, after all. But she associates with lowbrow sorts and wears trousers. And since you’re the city’s ‘most eligible bachelor,’ you have better options.”

Daniel’s pulse pounded his temples. He prayed for words that honored both Josie and his father. “The bachelor stuff is rot. And Josie’s associations, as you call them, are founded on her desire to serve ‘the least of these.’ I’m sorry you can’t see that.”

A ghost of a smile played at Father’s lips. “I see more than you wish me to, Son. You came today prepared for a fight. I won’t give it to you.”

He never did, but Daniel’s insides boiled.
Why do I care so much, God?
If he was doing right, serving God and not his father, why did he feel so frustrated?

Nothing could be settled now. Not here.

Besides, he had other things he needed to fix.

“I don’t understand.” Fannie clutched the parcel to her chest as she stood on Josie’s porch. “Daniel designed the Mothers’ Home in exchange for your protection from aggressive females? That’s why you two are thick as molasses? Pah. He’s fond of you.”

Josie’s face heated, but it was due, no doubt, to the fog burning off and the warmth of her wool skirt and shirtwaist. It certainly had nothing to do with Daniel being fond of her.

“He’s been barraged for weeks. Having me around seems to abate the problem a bit.” Josie lowered her voice as a pair of ladies strolled past. “And he’s like a brother.”

“So Olive Gloss locked you up because you’re like Daniel’s sister.”

“That’s why I’m a good companion to Daniel. Others might think his heart is unavailable, but I am a safe person to him.”

Fannie laughed. And didn’t stop for a full half minute. “Oh, Josie.”

Josie’s foot tapped. “Don’t you need to be somewhere?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Fannie handed Josie the parcel, which was squishy under the brown wrapping. “You’ll laugh, too, someday.”

Josie doubted it. After Fannie kissed her farewell, Josie took the parcel to the parlor. She opened the paper, revealing three balls of pale pink yarn, when a knock on the door sounded.

“Fannie,” Josie called, waving away the manservant, Finch, who readied to open the door. “You are so wrong about Daniel.” She swung the door wide.

“What about me?” Daniel stood on the porch, his chocolaty brow arched.

“Just that, ah, Fannie was here and I told her about our arrangement.” She was so glad he’d come. Leaving things as they had this morning gnawed at her stomach like a rat in the wall. “Shall we sit on the porch? Mother’s in the studio, but I’ll fetch her if you’d like to come inside.”

“No, don’t interrupt her. I wanted to see how you are, after the cable car.”

“Fine.” Except for the bruise on her hip. “You? You fell, too.”

“Fine.” An awkward moment passed. “The truth is, I didn’t like our disagreement. I thought it might help set things right if I showed you my completed plans for the Mothers’ Home.” He held up the tube.

Warmth suffused her. They would set things right but not because of the plans. Because of his heart. “We need a table for that, like last night. Mother’s door is wide open, and it’s just for a minute. Do come in.”

The desire to express regret welled in her chest. “I owe you an apology.” They walked down the hall to the dining room, past the parlor, when a blur of pink caught her eye. “Thisbe!”

The kitten rolled on her back, an unraveled ball of yarn caught in her claws. The other two balls were reduced to strings. Josie bent to extricate the string from Thisbe’s busy feet. “How could one animal cause such a mess in thirty seconds?”

“Let me help.” Daniel bent down, and within a minute they had three lumps of yarn.

“Hold your fingers like this.” She raised her hands chest level, a foot apart, pointing her fingers to the ceiling. The corner of Daniel’s lip quirked, but he obeyed. Too high, though. She repositioned his elbows, found the end of a string, and wound it around his fingers.

Daniel laughed. “You’re shackling me?”

“You’ll never escape my cuffs of yarn.”

“Pink, too. My favorite color.”

She giggled. “Pity. You’re about to be freed.” She pulled the bundle off his hands. Trading it for a tangled lump, she found Daniel where she’d left him, his hands ready. “The Ladies’ Aid Society thanks you.”

“Is that what this is for?”

Nodding, she wrapped his strong hands in pink again. “We’re crocheting blankets for the Home. Fannie picked the color.”

She expected him to tease, but instead his brow furrowed. “You didn’t need to apologize. You were right. I seek acknowledgement from other places because I don’t have a relationship with my father. I say I look to God, but I don’t. I look to myself.”

She’d been thinking about it, too. “We all do, I’d guess. I got so swept up in doing something good I forgot why I set out to do it in the first place. For the women.”

His eyes were soft. “Speaking of the Home… I didn’t design it for our agreement. I did it because it’s the right thing to do. And you’re a difficult person to say no to.”

“I am not.” She feigned offense. “I’m persuasive.”

“Pesky.”

Like a little sister. She had told Fannie so, and she’d been right. She just wished she’d been wrong. She tugged the coil off his hands. “Then you needed some peskiness in your life.”

“Wilson’s ad is plenty troublesome.” Daniel took the bundle of yarn. His warm fingers lingered against her palms. “But it hasn’t been all bad.”

“No?” It was hard to think with his thumbs tracing over her skin.

“I’ve enjoyed our time together. And betwixt the two of us we’ve set some ladies straight.”

Saying it was her pleasure seemed wrong, so she nodded. Was he going to kiss her again? Like a beau, not a brother?

The
rat-tat-tat
of the door knocker made her jump. Daniel stepped back.

“Harvey Whitstone, miss,” Finch announced as the man strode into the room.

“Thank heavens.” Harvey wiped his brow. “You’re here, and so are the plans.”

Daniel’s gaze followed Harvey’s to the tube. “The Mothers’ Home schematics?”

“Don’t even joke. I regret every prank I’ve played if you think this is fitting revenge.”

Josie’s stomach seemed to slope to her stockings. “He’s not joking. You’re saying the plans for the Humphries Competition are missing?”

At Harvey’s nod, Daniel’s face leached of color. “They’re on my desk.”

“Are you certain? Because they’re not there now.”

“I—don’t remember the specifics. I brought them here last night.” Then Daniel turned to her, his lips parted. And the doubt on his face was replaced with something cold. Like betrayal.

Chapter 7

A
shudder rippled under Josie’s skin. No wonder Daniel’s eyes had grown dark. If the sketches weren’t turned into the Humphries Competition by tomorrow at noon, he and Harvey would forfeit by default.

“The plans aren’t here.” She shook her head. “We would have noticed by now.”

His expression didn’t thaw. “Are you certain? Do you remember me taking them?”

She remembered him donning a silk hat at the door, but not gripping plans. “No, but that doesn’t mean they’re here.” She crossed to the bellpull and gave it a tug. “I’ll ask Finch. One of you can check the dining room, where we viewed the plans, if you wish.”

With a nod, Harvey dashed out the door. Daniel tossed the bundle of pink yarn onto the sofa and began to pace. “I’m sorry to be harsh. But I need those plans.”

“I know.” Harvey and Finch’s appearance forestalled further speech. When Harvey shook his head, Josie beckoned to the manservant. “Have you seen any architecture plans, like these, Finch? Sketches? Either in sheaves or rolled into a cylinder.”

“No, miss. Just the ripped one you and Mr. Price put together after Tilly got to it.”

Daniel growled. “If that dog mangled the plans—”

“Thank you, Finch. Would you be so kind as to inform Mother I need her, please.” Josie sighed. “Tilly didn’t get to the plans. We’d have seen the mess.”

Daniel rubbed his neck. “Could your mother have done something with them?”

The question roiled in her gut like gall. “Like what? Paint on them?”

“She doodled on your father’s map.”

Josie folded her arms. “She wouldn’t paint on your plans.”

Harvey waved his hand. “What about Wilson?”

“He hasn’t been by.” Josie’s tone rose in pitch. “Nor would he steal.”

Daniel snorted. “He’s done plenty to threaten my chances with Humphries.”

Mother entered the room, smelling of turpentine and dressed in a splattered smock. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Care for tea?”

“They aren’t staying.” Josie chomped her cheek, tasting blood. Daniel all but accused her dog, mother, and brother of ruining his work. She’d thought—no matter. Daniel’s true feelings about her family were clear, and he’d gone too far. “They’ve misplaced their architecture plans. You haven’t seen them, have you?”

“There’s a cylinder on the sofa.”

“Not those,” Daniel said. “The ones I showed you last night.”

Mother smiled. “No, but I have cheery news. I’m planning a landscape series now that my sculpture is done. Water lilies.” She spread out her hands like the sea stars that dwelled in the bay’s tide pools. “Your mother was so fond of them. I thought you might like one as a gift.”

Josie’s hand went to her throat. This was the way Mother showed affection, but it wasn’t what Daniel wanted right now. His smile was pinched.

“Thank you.” He took up the cylinder, gripping so hard his knuckles looked skinless. “We must take our leave. If you see the other plans, we’d be obliged if you’d send word.”

Mother’s face fell. “Of course. I hope all turns out well.”

Daniel’s look was apologetic as he headed to the door with Harvey. Finch waited by the open door. “Thank you, ma’am.” Daniel paused. “Josie.”

“Sorry.” Harvey had the grace to blush as they stepped outside.

Josie lingered in the threshold to see if Daniel would look back. Instead a stout fellow with a walrus mustache hurried up the walkway. “Daniel Blair, as I live and breathe.”

“I fear you have me at an advantage.” Daniel held out his hand.

“Horatio Bloom, at your service.”

“You’re a reporter with the
Journal
,” Harvey cried. Josie stepped onto the porch.

“Word is the ‘most eligible bachelor’ saved Miss Price from a cable car.” Mr. Bloom withdrew a pencil and tiny notebook from his breast pocket. “Is it true?”

“No one was hurt, praise God.” Daniel moved past him.

“Is it true she rewarded you with a kiss?”

Daniel paused, his expression ominous, but before he could speak, Mr. Bloom spied Josie and jogged to the porch. “Miss Price? Have you captured Mr. Blair’s heart and the cash reward?”

Josie’s lunch trudged up her throat. “This is not legitimate news.”

“Ladies love a hero.” The reporter grinned, his teeth hidden by his bushy mustache. “What did you think when he saved your life? I bet you swooned into his arms, didn’t you?”

“I do not swoon.” Josie folded her arms.

“Enough.” Daniel returned to her side, his arm in a protective gesture before her. “Take your rude questions and go.”

“Fine.” Mr. Bloom turned, bumping into a young lady in green plaid. Josie hadn’t even seen Olive Gloss on the walkway. What was she doing here? Last they’d spoken, Olive had locked her in the closet.

Mr. Bloom took steadying hold of her arms. “Do you live here? Any comment about Miss Price, the lady Mr. Blair rescued and kissed?”

Olive’s jaw dropped into the high lace of her ruffled collar. She shook off the reporter and glared at Josie. “He kissed you?”

“Ooh.” Mr. Bloom scribbled notes.

Daniel dropped his arm. “Miss Gloss, I think you and I should talk. Alone.”

“Dan?” Harvey held up his pocket watch. “Time is fleeting.”

“Mr. Bloom?” Daniel leveled his gaze. “I suggest you find something else to report.”

“Like the plight of our city’s needy women and children,” Josie called as Mr. Bloom trudged away. “That’s a story.”

Harvey, bless him, followed Mr. Bloom to the street like a guard dog. When Josie turned around, Olive glowered at Daniel. “As if I’d take you after you kissed her.”