The Rocky Mountain Heiress Collection (109 page)

Alex thought only a moment before returning to the carriage. He had little time to prepare before Charlotte threw open the carriage door.

“ ‘I want to assure you I’m taking the promise I made before you and the Lord seriously’?” she said as she allowed the driver to help her inside. “ ‘Charlotte will never want for anything’?” She settled across from Alex and tossed her reticule on the seat beside her with a flourish. “You’re going a bit overboard on this, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I’m telling the truth. I do not intend to go through with any of the plans we made.” He paused, reaching across the gap between them and placing his hand on top of hers. “Beyond the one where we planned to marry, of course.”

Charlotte yanked her hand away. “You and I had a deal, and now you’re changing your mind?” She gave him a sideways look. “Wait,” she said with the beginnings of a grin. “Oh, you’re good, Alex. Really good. I almost believed you.”

Alex opened his mouth to explain, then thought better of it. By the time the carriage turned onto Grant Street, he knew it’d be best not to explain his new position on their marriage until he absolutely had to.

Charlotte turned her attention to the parade of lavish homes rolling past. “I wonder which one is ours.” She shook her head. “Mine, that is.”

Alex chuckled as he patted the papers beside him. Wouldn’t his bride be surprised to know that the Grant Street property was deeded to him? Another detail Alex would reveal when the time came and not before.

“Driver,” Charlotte called, “can you tell me which one is ours?”

“Yes’m,” he said. “It’s the one up ahead on the left. With the iron fence and the crown atop the turret.”

She craned her neck, and a smile slowly curved her lips. “Oh, there it is. Alex, look. It’s lovely.”

He followed her gaze to a rather interesting, three-story, limestone block home of larger than modest size. The ground floor entrance was covered by a portico that curved around the left side of the house, beneath an upstairs balcony finished in ornamental fashion. On the right, a turret rose two stories high and ended with a crown-like cap on the topmost floor. A fence of black iron situated atop limestone circled the entire structure. Were the grounds greener and the backdrop not the
Rocky Mountains, the home would have put Alex in mind of an Irish castle he’d visited in his childhood.

A uniformed servant met the carriage at the gate. “Welcome,” he said as they rolled past. Before the carriage stopped, the gate had clanged shut. When the driver opened the door, Alex climbed out, then offered his hand to Charlotte.

“It’s lovely,” Charlotte repeated as she allowed Alex to help her down.

“Lovely, yes,” Alex echoed, though his attention was not focused on the pile of limestone he’d inherited in this bargain. Rather, he fell headfirst into the wide green eyes of the woman to whom he’d promised the Lord he’d play husband.

Though he did not intend to fall in love with her, he found her enthusiasm enchanting. Especially when she forgot her ladylike airs and hurried toward the grand front entrance like a little girl rushing to her first tea party. The last time he’d seen such childlike innocence in her was when she’d bested him to the door at his father’s home in London. And even then the silliness was quickly replaced by the coy ingénue who’d tricked him into doing exactly what she wished.

“Alex, come see the gargoyles,” she called.

“Gargoyles?” Alex shook his head. “Whatever are you talking about?”

She pointed to a spot on the roof. “See, right there next to …” She looked over her shoulder to smile at him. “Right next to the telescope.”

He looked in the direction she pointed. Sure enough, situated midway between two carved creatures of medieval vintage was a telescope.

“Looks like we’re even,” she said as she climbed the steps leading to the double front doors.

Alex hurried after her. “Even?”

Charlotte stopped short and Alex almost ran over her. She smiled sweetly up at him. “Yes. You claim I ruined your favorite telescope.” She shrugged. “Well, it appears you’ve gained another.”

Before he could respond, he’d lost his wife to the open door. He heard a squeal of delight.

“Do come and see,” she called. “The home is quite lovely.”

“Lovely,” he again echoed. “Indeed.”

While Charlotte busied herself going from room to room to exclaim over the wonders of their new home or complain about its faults, Alex went straight toward the roof.

The third-floor landing opened directly onto a library. Shelves extended from floor to ceiling, already filled with leather-bound volumes that, upon closer inspection, revealed books on science and astronomy that he’d longed to purchase. A desk large enough for two anchored the center of the room with marble fireplaces on both the northern and southern ends of the oversized room. Chairs clad in hues of scarlet and gold flanked the fireplaces and provided seating at the desk, and a tableau of the constellations decorated the ceiling above the glittering chandelier.

Between the bookshelves on the eastern wall stood a set of double doors flanked by velvet curtains the color of the night sky. One of the doors had been thrown open, offering a view of the place he’d come to inspect: his rooftop laboratory.

He found a telescope with a four-inch refractor set securely into a base that offered a panoramic view of all Denver. Alex ran his hand down the metal exterior, then lowered the treasure to peer up at the snow-topped mountains on the horizon.

“Magnificent,” he whispered. He swung the instrument around and
spied the silver dome of the newly completed Chamberlin Observatory. “Absolutely magnificent.”

“Alex,” Charlotte called. “Where are you?”

“Out here,” he responded as he saw his bride moving toward him.

“Oh my,” she said. “Look at this.” She found the ledge and leaned over it to peer down, causing Alex’s gut to roll as he witnessed her daring. “What a view,” she called.

“Come and see this.” He swung the telescope around and waited for her to join him. “Don’t touch it,” he joked when her fingers found the edge of the eyepiece.

Charlotte jumped, then laughed. “Stop teasing me,” she said as she bent to look through the telescope. “Oh, Alex, I can see all the way to Leadville.”

“Almost,” he said with a chuckle.

The wind teased her hair and lifted the lace on her collar as her long lashes dusted cheekbones of palest ivory. She pushed a golden curl from her eyes then took a step back and regarded him with that childlike expression. “Oh, won’t it be lovely to look at the stars?”

“Yes,” he said softly. “Lovely.”

And she truly was.

“Perhaps I could paint them.” Her laughter caught on the breeze and faded far too soon. “How funny. I wouldn’t know where to find my paints if I tried.” She shrugged. “Perhaps another time. Once the trunks have been unpacked.”

As he watched her walk back inside, it was all Alex could do to keep from tearing through every one of the twenty-odd trunks now being delivered in order to find the paints his wife required.

“Yes,” he said to her disappearing back, “perhaps another time.”

September 1, 1891
Denver, Colorado

Alex looked up from his notes when Charlotte walked into his study. Today his bride wore a shade of pink that matched the color in her cheeks, and her hair was fashioned in a simple coil at the nape of her neck. Draped over her arm was a collection of lengths of cloth.

He noticed the letter he’d received yesterday lying within reach. And within sight of his wife. Alex snapped it up and tossed it in the top drawer of his desk. Until he decided what he thought of the University of Colorado’s interesting but unsolicited offer to join their staff, Alex intended to keep the information to himself.

“And I thought I married a businesswoman bent on ruling the world one company at a time.” He set aside his pen and journal to give her his full attention.

“You did, and perhaps I will, but first I’ve a few samples here I’d like to show you.” She laid the fabric across the edge of his desk. “The colors in here are so dark and dated. What do you think of this one?”

Nothing about his third-floor space seemed displeasing, and there would be no painting over of the constellations above him. He did his
best to study the woodsy green material with some measure of interest while he decided whether to assert his preferences now or later.

“Yes, it will do fine,” Alex said when he figured he’d shown enough interest. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve some things to attend to.”

“Truly, Alex, if you have no opinion, it’s fine to say so.”

“What?” He looked up as Charlotte wandered to the bookshelf and selected a volume by Voltaire. “No, really, I don’t mind the green at all.”

“You don’t mind it?” She replaced the book on the shelf and turned to face him, one hand on her hip. “Why bother changing anything if there’s nothing to be gained by it?”

“An excellent argument for more than just fabrics.”

Charlotte huffed. “Why am I even asking you? We won’t be married much longer.” She moved toward him, sweeping past the trunks of still-unpacked journals and charts to settle easily in the chair across the desk. A knock sounded at the door, and one of the small army of household staff peered in.

“The mister’s tailor is here for a fitting,” the maid said.

“My tailor?” Alex shook his head. “I ordered no clothing.”

Charlotte’s gaze pointedly swept the length of him. When Alex’s eyes met hers, she shrugged. “I took the liberty of choosing a few things that were a bit more appropriate.”

“Appropriate for what?”

“The reception, of course.” Charlotte looked past him to the maid. “Thank you, Mary. Please let the tailor know that Viscount Hambly will be down for his fitting in a few minutes.”

“No, Mary,” Alex said. “Tell the tailor to give me ten minutes with my wife, and then he can come up here for the fitting.”

“But Alex, I …” Charlotte apparently thought better of her protest. “Never mind. Yes, Mary, please do as the viscount asks.”

Alex returned his attention to Charlotte. “Have you found your paints?” he asked.

“Not yet.” She smoothed her skirt, then rested her palms in her lap. “Alex, it is September today. Did you realize that?”

“I did, actually.”

“Grandfather has asked when I’ll be returning to work in London.”

Alex felt an odd flash of temper. “Likely he asked when the two of us would be returning.”

She met his stare. “In any case, I’m anxious to meet with his board again. Other than the day before the wedding, I’ve had little contact with anyone but Grandfather. Of course, under the circumstances I suppose he’s really the only one I need to speak to.”

Alex watched his wife as she absently turned the wedding ring that meant so little to her. Already she’d said more to him in this conversation than in all the past week put together.

“Perhaps I’ll take a house in London after the first of the year,” she said.

“Does your grandfather’s home no longer meet your needs?”

She gave him a sideways look. “A place of my own.”

Alex nodded. This uneasy truce of theirs would end as soon as she learned he would not seek an annulment. Knowing Charlotte had a place to live that did not involve sleeping under the same roof as him might be beneficial to both of them.

And yet, that was no marriage, was it?

“Have you had any further correspondence with Mr. Pembroke?” Charlotte asked.

The question hit a nerve, and Alex winced. “It has been some time since I’ve received a letter from him, actually.”

“I see. Might a telegram be in order?”

Though he knew the answer all too well, Alex decided to broach the topic anyway. “Why the sudden interest in Will Pembroke, Charlotte?”

She shifted positions. “Only to see if perhaps anything important has gone missing between his office and yours.”

“Charlotte,” he said slowly, painfully aware of the trouble he was about to dive into, “what is it you’d like to know?”

Her fingers drummed a rhythm on her knees, and she lowered her gaze to study something in her lap. Then she abruptly returned her attention to Alex.

“I would like to know when I am free of this marriage.”

“I see.” He exhaled slowly. “Then I shall inform you of any further information I receive on that topic in as timely a manner as I can manage.”

There. He’d answered her concern with a mostly truthful statement.

Alex sighed. Mostly was not good enough. A partial truth was still a lie.

“Look,” he said. “I’ve not heard from Pembroke because I’ve informed him I no longer wish for him to look into an annulment through the London courts.”

“What?” Her eyes widened. “Stop teasing me, Alex.”

He waited a moment before speaking. “I’m quite serious.”

“I see.” Charlotte rose and gathered up her fabrics. “It appears you’ve forgotten that we had an arrangement. As part of that arrangement, I have pretended to be your wife. And because of that, you now have this lovely office and that telescope. You also have a standing in this town that only an association with the Becks could have achieved.”