The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons (76 page)

The poor girl managed a murmur that might have been a greeting and then edged away from the table. Tavia felt pity for her even as she watched the mother to see if she intended any further conversation.

“You know, Mr. Baker,” Violet’s mama said, “I’m certain you’ve meant no slight by it, but as chairperson of the Summer Nights Gala for the Benefit of the Orphans and Children, I do hope you intend to respond to the invitation you’ve received. When was it? Two weeks ago? Perhaps three?”

“Actually it was just last week,” Tavia said. “And I do have the invitation on the list of responses to send out. I’ve just been quite busy.”

Merritt squeezed her hand and then offered a sweet smile to the society lady. “Indeed she has been busy, so I will respond for both of us.” He glanced at Tavia and slid her a wicked wink. “We would be delighted to attend.”

“We?” Tavia and Violet’s mother said in unison.

“Yes, we,” he said for emphasis before nodding toward Tavia. “Have you met Miss Derby? She’s very important to me, and I wouldn’t consider attending the gala without her.”

Violet’s mama looked as if she smelled something unpleasant. “Miss Derby.” She extended a limp hand. “Pleased, I’m sure.”

“Likewise,” Tavia said as she slid Merritt an I-cannot-believe-you-said-that look.

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have your typist tag along.” The woman sniffed the air and once again looked as if she found it most unappealing.

“My typist?” Merritt feigned confusion. “Miss Derby, do you type?”

Tavia couldn’t help but laugh. “No, I am afraid I do not.”

He looked back up at the older woman. “She does not type,” Merritt said as he made a show of patting Tavia’s hand. “But she looks lovely in a ball gown. Thank you for the reminder. We look forward to Friday night.”

The rascal.

“Saturday,” Violet’s mother mumbled as she gathered her daughter and strode away.

“That went well,” Tavia said.

“It always does.” Merritt withdrew his hand and grabbed his spoon again. “I have to admit we make a good team, you and I. You might not be able to type, but you sure do know how to chase off the bride brigade.”

“Merritt,” she said firmly, “I do not recall attending galas with you as part of my job description.”

He savored a bite of gumbo then offered that dazzling smile. “Well, darlin’, typing was a part of your job description. Let’s just say I’ve substituted one for the other.”

She shook her head. “You realize by inviting me to an event like this gala, you are telling New Orleans society that you and I are an item.”

“Yes,” he said. “I figure that will buy me a few weeks of peace and quiet.” He paused. “Unless you don’t want to go. I won’t make you.”

“It does make sense,” she said. “And it would be a logical extension of the ruse you’ve been perpetrating on dozens of New Orleans beauties.”

Merritt laughed. “No worse than the ruse they’re trying to perpetrate on me. That would be the one where they pretend an interest in me when it’s the Baker money they’re really after.”

“How can you be so sure it’s not you?” At his surprised look, Tavia hurried to continue. “You’re a nice enough fellow, and you’re hardly frightening in looks.”

“Why, thank you. Your kind words just about make me blush.”

“Oh hush,” she told him. “I’m serious. Must you chase them all away? What if one of them is the right one?”

He seemed to consider the question a moment, and then he shrugged. “Then God will figure out a way to get past my blunder and show me His choice.” His eyes narrowed. “Since we’re on the subject, what about you? How sure are you that
you
haven’t chased off the right one?”

Well, that bullet sure hit the target. Rit leaned back in his chair and watched his typist squirm. “What’s this? You don’t have an answer?”

She smiled, and his heart lurched. Oh, but he could get used to looking at that smile across the table. Who was he kidding? He had already gotten used to it.

“Actually I do have an answer,” Octavia said. “Wouldn’t I know it if I had?”

He waved for the waiter to bring their check. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think if you’d already met the right one your heart would know?” She toyed with the edge of her sleeve, a gesture Rit had learned to interpret as indecision.

“And yet the Bible tells us the heart is deceitful,” he said.

Octavia swung her gaze to collide with his. “Exactly. So how would either of us know? How does anyone know? It’s all too much to ponder.”

Rit handed the waiter his money and then rose to help Octavia up and out the door into the early afternoon sunshine. “Then stop pondering. You’ve got a party to prepare for. Considering the weight of those trunks, I’d guess you’ve probably already got something pretty to wear, but since this is a company expense, what say I take you shopping this afternoon?”

She almost smiled. “I couldn’t.”

“Why? Do you have to go back to the office and type something?”

There came the smile. She cut those pretty eyes up at him, and he just about melted. “No, but someone’s got to figure out how to operate that infernal machine. How about you?”

Rit stopped on the banquette outside the restaurant and held out his hands to her. “Do these look like the hands of a typist?”

Octavia reached out to touch the calluses of his right palm. “No, they look like the hands of a man who ranches. So why is it you’re stuck up in that building over there?”

How to explain loyalty to a father no longer living to a woman running from a father who was very much alive? “That’s a story for another day. Now about that dancing frock.”

“Thank you for the generous offer,” she said, “but I can manage.”

“You sure you don’t need my help?” he said.

Octavia stopped short and hauled him back to face her. “You must really hate your job if you’re begging to go with me to find a dress for that grouchy woman’s party.”

Rit opened his mouth to disagree. Unfortunately, the lady was right.

She tilted her head as if assessing him. “Is it the horses? Because I love horses. That I could understand. Just don’t tell me some story about loving the peace and quiet and wanting to see the stars at night. Those are
not
good reasons to love life on a ranch.”

“I take it you’re speaking from experience?”

“Sadly, yes.”

“Well, Miss Derby, I say you need to reserve judgment until you’ve been on a Texas ranch. Colorado just won’t compare. I suppose we will have to agree to disagree.”

“Again?” She managed a serious expression. “That’s what you said about raw oysters. And the opera you misbehaved so terribly at.”

He grinned at the memory, not of the silliness happening on the stage but at the recollection of how frustrated Tavia had been at his refusal to pay attention to it. In the end, she’d given in to his version of the songs, sung just loud enough for her ear. And she’d laughed. Oh, how she’d laughed.

The thought of it made him smile.

“Honestly, Octavia,” he said as he attempted to switch to mock seriousness. “If you wanted to see a bellowing female with horns on her head, they’re a dime a dozen at Baker Ranch.” He paused for effect. “In Texas.”

She shook her head. “You’re impossible, Merritt Baker. Now leave me to my dress hunt and go back to the office right now.”

“I do not take orders from my typist,” he said.

“Well, good,” she responded in a saucy tone. “Because I don’t type. Now go.”

Rit glanced past Octavia and then gave her the signal for incoming trouble. Instantly her expression changed and she moved closer.

“Where is this one?” she asked as she glanced around. “Is it the blond?”

“No.”

She leaned in, and he could smell the scent of violets in her hair. He sure could get used to this.

“That one over there? The brunette speaking to the man with the little boy?”

“No.”

He allowed another moment’s snuggle right there on Canal Street and then gave her a playful nudge. “That was just a test. You did great.”

“A test? You are incorrigible, Merritt Baker. Now go find something to do.” She gave him a playful swat and then walked away.

What he found to do was watch her walk away. Even when he could no longer see the top of her head in the crowd, Rit kept his vigil until the feather on her hat disappeared around the corner.

“You’re sunk, boy,” he muttered as he trudged back to the office and the work he’d rather not be doing.

“Where is she?” Asa demanded when Rit stepped into his office. The impertinent kid had taken over his desk and his chair and seemed in no hurry to relinquish either.

“If by ‘she’ you mean Miss Derby, she is buying a dress for an event she and I are attending on Saturday.”

“So you’re going to the gala after all.”

“Apparently,” he said as he reached for the chair and shook it. Asa rose and stepped past him, a grin on his face. “So what are you doing in here, anyway? Last time I checked, you had your own office.”

His little brother rested against the window ledge. In that moment, with all of Baker Shipping and the Mississippi River behind him, Rit was struck at how very much Asa reminded him of their father.

“I was waiting for you.” He shifted positions. “What are your intentions with Miss Derby?”

Rit leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “You get right to the point, Ace.” When his brother did not react to the use of his childhood nickname, Rit knew the conversation was about to turn serious. “All right, then. My intentions with Miss Derby are to continue to use her to intercept and disarm the Baker bride brigade.”

“Baker bride brigade?” Asa smiled, almost. “Is that what you call them?”

“Actually that’s what Octavia calls them.” Rit paused. “She’s very good at keeping them at bay. So my intention is to continue using her for that purpose until she returns to Denver.”

“And when will that be?”

“A few weeks.” He gave Asa a sideways look. “Why?”

Asa shrugged off the question. “Just curious. So, no feelings for her? No love blooming?”

Rit laughed. “Not that I’d tell you about. Again, why?”

“Again, just curious.” Asa leaned forward. “Why is she here, Rit? In New Orleans, I mean.”

The kid was asking a lot of questions about someone he was “just curious” about. Rit knew all of this had to be leading somewhere. If it were Charles doing the asking, he’d have called a halt to it already. But this was Asa. And he trusted Asa.

“Her maid is Marie’s niece. Miss Derby and her father had a falling out over whether she could take care of herself without Daddy’s money. The maid wrote a letter and Marie offered Octavia a job. For a month. She got on a train, and here she is. So, that’s the story I know.”

“And you believe this story.”

“I have no reason not to. So, Asa, just get to the point, why all the questions? The real reason.”

“I need to know if you trust her.”

Though he was tempted to make some off-the-cuff remark, Merritt took his brother’s query seriously and thought on it a minute. “Yes,” he finally said. “I do. She showed me who she was when she didn’t know who I was. So, based on that and everything I’ve seen of her since, I’d have to say I trust her.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you with my life, little brother.” Rit jumped to his feet. To Asa’s credit he didn’t flinch. “However, if you don’t tell me what’s going on here, you’re not going to like what happens next.”

“Oh, sit down, Rit,” Asa said. “I’m long past being afraid of my big brother. Besides, you’re getting old and I’m still young. You might get the first lick in, but I’d get the last.”

Only the twinkle in his eye showed Rit the kid was joking. Or maybe he wasn’t. He sat down all the same and waited until his brother took a seat across the desk from him.

“All right. The truth. All of it.”

Asa rested his elbows on his knees and took in a deep breath then let it out slowly. “Charles and Mother are meeting with potential investors at Baker Ranch in a few days.”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“I’m telling you now,” he snapped. “Look, sorry. I didn’t tell you because…” He looked around and then back at Rit. “Because the real investor is coming here in a few days.”