The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons (4 page)

Not that she really wanted to.

Mamie opened a door near the end of the hall. “There you go, dear. All yours. Play dress-up to your heart’s content. You can use my maid to put on and take off.”

Though the room wasn’t much bigger than the one Ada slept in at home, it boasted a bed with downy coverlet, a gilded looking glass, and a washstand. Three huge trunks took up most of the floor space.

Ada hated to admit it, even to herself… but oh, how she wanted to dive into those trunks.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Pick something out so you can change your clothes. There’s an adjoining bath if you want to wash off any dust.” Mamie lounged against the door frame, arms crossed.

Kneeling on the carpet, Ada undid the straps and pried open the lid of the first trunk. Layers of tissue paper covered the top. She pulled it off and dug her hands inside. A gasp escaped her lips as she unfurled the first gown. Pale blue, airy as a butterfly, trimmed in delicate white lace.

She jumped to her feet and rushed to the mirror. Twirled like a princess, the skirt swaying with her movements.

“Is this for parties?” She glanced at Mamie, who had seated herself on the sofa and proceeded to open a box of chocolates.

“Gracious, no,” Mamie mumbled around a bonbon. “Afternoon wear.”

“Afternoon wear to meet the queen?” The soft material slid through Ada’s fingers like water, the fabric cool against her skin. The fragrance of lilacs enveloped her. Teasing her to cast off her old dress and put the new on.

“Not quite.” Mamie closed the box of chocolates. “Go on. Look at the rest.”

Ada hurried back to the trunk. The next gown looked straight out of “Cinderella.” Layers and layers of cream lace cascaded over an off-white silk skirt and pearl-embroidered bodice. The whole ensemble must have used up half a warehouse of silk.

“I expect we slop the pigs in this one.” She ran her fingertips over each pearl.

Mamie laughed. “I like the way you think, Ada McClane.”

The trunk seemed bottomless. Ball gowns, tea dresses, walking costumes, evening ensembles. Even a riding habit, tailored and equestrian.

And then there were hats. With flowers, without flowers. Some covered in silk and some decked in ribbons. Each seem to be designed to coordinate with a particular outfit, and each matched perfectly.

Frilly nightdresses, lace-trimmed petticoats, and two corsets. Shoes, gloves, stockings.

No wonder rich women needed a maid. It would take someone full-time just to maintain all this paraphernalia.

“Hope all the sizes work. Geoffrey gave me approximates, but I wasn’t sure about the shoes. I bought two sizes smaller than mine. If they don’t fit, we can stuff some newspaper inside. Either that or cut off your toes.” She winked.

“I’m sure everything will be perfect.” How could it not be? Everything, from the railcar to the clothes, was more perfect than a dream.

Mamie clapped her hands, her flashy earrings jangling. “Come on, then, little niece. Let’s get this show on the road.”

The moment she stepped into the room, everything else ceased to exist.

Geoffrey’s mouth went dry as Ada glided into the parlor. No longer a raggedy girl, the vision before him was nothing less than a beautiful woman. The pale green dress clung to her curves, a perfect match with her eyes. Her irrepressible curls had been tamed into submission and styled in an elegant chignon. Gloves sheathed her slender fingers, and a rope of pearls dangled around her neck. She looked society.

She looked like his fiancée.

A shy smile graced her lips as she took a seat, Mamie right behind her. The older woman’s dazzle stood in stark contrast to Ada’s youth and innocence, but together, they made quite a pair.

“You look absolutely…” Beautiful would have been the right word, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. To bring himself a step closer to the line between them marked
business only.
“Suitable.”

“Thank you.” She sat straight as a pin on the hard-backed chair, hands folded in her lap.

If he stared at her much more, he’d be liable to forget the whole point of her being here. He straightened his own stance and looked instead at the paneling.

“All right. If we’re going to convince everyone that you are indeed my intended, then we’re going to have to lay down some basic groundwork. I have it all written here.” He pulled a piece of paper from his waistcoat pocket. Cleared his throat and began to read: “We met three months ago, in April. You had just finished your education with your highly esteemed governess, and came to Newport to stay with your aunt. We met there and quickly fell in love.” The words had sounded simple when he’d written them in his library. Now, with her sitting here, those emerald eyes gazing up at him, complicated seemed the better word. “After that, you moved to New York City with your aunt, as both your parents are dead.”

“That part is actually true.” She bit her lip. The way she said it, without drama or pathos, sent a knife of guilt straight into his heart. Here he was, using her for his own selfish purposes, because of her sheer need to survive. Suddenly, he felt like a cad and loathed himself for it.

“Go on,” she said softly.

“We became engaged last month. I haven’t told my mother yet, because I wanted it to be a surprise. Your family is from the West. You needn’t say where. Your parents were moderately wealthy and produced an intelligent, attractive daughter worthy of the Buchanan name.”

“I’ve only known her an hour, and I say she fits both descriptions to a T.” Mamie grinned. “Right, little niece?”

“Very true, Aunt.” Ada smiled demurely.

“You will address me as Geoffrey, and I will call you Ada. Since we are very much in love, we’re on less formal terms. While at the party, you will be expected to treat me with affection and respect. You’ll say as little as possible about your past and concentrate merely on playing a loving fiancée. Near the end of the party, we will very publicly sever our relationship, and you will immediately return to New York. And in case you have doubts about any of this, it’s all written here.” He retrieved a folder from atop a tea table and handed it to her. Call it the businessman in him, but he’d wanted everything laid out. So she couldn’t be added to the list of the many other women who had taken him for a fool.

“A contract?” He’d have to get her to stop biting her lower lip, turning it rosy. Far too distracting.

“If you’ll just sign on the line near the end of the page.” He passed her his fountain pen.

She quickly signed her name and handed it back to him.

“You sure don’t take any chances, do you, Geoffrey?” Mamie’s eyes narrowed. “What’s in the contract? No falling in love allowed?”

Why, oh why, had he brought
her
along? Probably because she was the only respectable female who would go for his madcap scheme. “Just that if she breaks any of the rules listed, she’ll forfeit the money.”

A worried line crimped Ada’s brow. He took the chair beside her. He wasn’t a beast, just careful. Surely she could understand that.

She shot him a glare. “Never fear, Mr. Buchanan. I’ve always been the best of employees.”

He wanted to fire back a retort but knew he deserved everything she gave him and more.

“Now, for lessons. We will be having luncheon as soon as it’s ready. There I will instruct you in proper table manners.”

He was rewarded with an even nastier look. “I may come from the East End, Mr. Buchanan, but I’m no hick. I can hold a knife and fork, same as you.”

“There’s a girl. Give it to him straight and sugar-free, little niece.”

Geoffrey decided to ignore that remark.

A bell rang. Good. Luncheon would be a distraction for them all. He stepped to Ada’s side. She stood and though her gaze could have frozen a furnace, took his arm.

“Allow me to escort you in.” He led her across the room and into the dining car.

Let lesson two commence.

Chapter 5

I
f she heard one more word about the correct way to eat an oyster, she might very well spit nails.

Not to mention the proper form in rising from a chair, sipping tea, removing gloves, etc. Who knew there were dozens of rules for every imaginable activity? Surprisingly, they hadn’t yet taught her the proper way to breathe. Probably on the itinerary for tomorrow.

After consuming a plateful of oysters and escargot, the strings of her corset were ready to burst.

“Let’s call it a night.” Geoffrey leaned back in his chair. He’d removed his suit jacket and waistcoat and rolled his shirtsleeves to his elbows. It would figure his arms would ripple with muscles and his hands be strong, yet elegant.

It seemed everything about this man was larger than life.

“I’m off to bed, then.” Mamie stood and stretched, yawning. “Night, Geoffrey. Good night, little niece.” She blew an air kiss as she waltzed away, humming a jaunty ragtime hit.

“I should retire, too.” Ada stood. The train rocked with motion as they raced along the tracks. Farther and farther away from home, and nearer and nearer her new life.

“Don’t go.” His words stilled her. Soft, yet insistent. Crumbling her unwillingness to go and strengthening her reluctance to stay. “That is, if you’re not too tired.”

“I’m not tired.” Against her better judgment, she resumed her seat. Lamplight flickered across the table, casting shadows over the cloth, his face. Somewhere a clock chimed midnight. A scandalous hour to be alone with a man. Even her employer.

Yet watching him, her fears cracked. This rich and handsome man had no designs upon her. Hadn’t he treated her like a naughty schoolgirl all afternoon, issuing orders like a drill sergeant?

He probably wanted her to stay so he could continue his pre-society training.

“So what do you think of Mamie?” He folded his hands on the table.

“I can honestly say I’ve never met anyone like her.” Good thing, too. The world only needed one Mamie Landseer.

Geoffrey chuckled. “I met her during a trip to Bar Harbor. She’s new money, yes, but she’s got more sense in the palm of her hand than all of Mrs. Astor’s Four Hundred have in their brains.”

“Have you always disliked being rich?” Her words shook the stillness between them.

He didn’t answer at first.

Why didn’t she think before she spoke? It would save her and everyone around a great deal of discomfort.

Yet, no annoyance laced his expression. Instead, a smile edged his lips.

“It’s not the money itself I dislike, Ada. It’s the way I’m treated because of it. I want to be able to walk down Fifth Avenue and not be stopped by reporters. Dine at a restaurant and be served like everyone else. No special tables, no fawning.” Those riveting blue eyes captured hers. “I just want… to be myself. Can you understand that?”

She nodded. “I want to go into a store and not be treated like riffraff. To shop for things same as the next person, without being judged by how I dress. No decent man wants to ask a girl like me out, because he knows I haven’t two dimes to rub together.” The rush of memories made her throat ache. “One time I saw this man in the park. No one high and mighty like you, but nice-looking and young. It was a Friday night and I was going out with my friend Jenny and her sweetheart. I thought perhaps I could ask him if he wanted to join us. But when I tried to start a conversation, he looked at me like I was dirt. Not even worth the dust on his feet.”

His eyes darkened. “You’ll never be looked at like that again, Ada. I promise you that.” The intense way he spoke the words sent a sudden rush of warmth through her.

She’d been daft to tell him all that. Yet it had felt good to be honest. Just as he’d said, to be herself.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“No, thank
you.
For being a woman I can actually talk to. Few women are these days.”

She stood. The tips of her toes pinched in her new shoes, the whalebone of her corset dug into her skin, yet somehow… she’d never felt freer. As if a great weight had been released, simply by talking with him.

She laid her hand against the doorknob, the polished brass cool against her flushed skin.

“Good night, Geoffrey Buchanan.”

Their gazes met. Held.

“Sweet dreams, Ada McClane.”