The Widower's Wife (17 page)

I am most anxious to see you again, dearest Jillian, and I must admit, I am looking forward to having the beautiful Miss Bethany Johansen all to myself on the long train ride there. I anxiously await your reply!

With loving fondness,

Yours always,

Marcus.

P.S. I promise not to go and break anyone’s nose or blacken anyone’s eye that is undeserving. We both know that Nathan was most deserving!

Jillian closed the letter and laid it with her mother’s on the nightstand.

They were coming to see her—her two most treasured friends! Unable to contain her joy, she stood up and took a dance about the room.

Sitting back down on the bed, she contemplated the reality of her dream come true. Would Dalton be all right with the visit? She was sure he would be. Jenny could move into Lisa’s bed for a few days so Bethany would have a place to sleep, and Marcus could possibly stay in the spare room over at Uncle Ned and Aunt Betty’s. She would ride over and ask first thing in the morning. She would also need to get a ride into town tomorrow to send the telegram.

Jillian lay down on her bed, putting her hands behind her head. She hadn’t seen Bethany since she’d visited her in Newport, and the pain over Nathan had still been so raw then. She thought of her mother’s letter again. Could she ever rid herself of the fear and trepidation of giving her heart freely to another man? Her thoughts wandered to Nathan and the night he had plunged her heart into its present perilous state.

Marcus suddenly burst through the parlor door.

“Tell me again how I’m the sweetest brother you have.” He sauntered over and plopped himself onto the sofa.

Jillian wasn’t in the mood to play games with Marcus just then. She was too busy pouting and missing Nathan. He had gone to Boston on business. He and his father were in the shipping business, so they traveled quite frequently, but this time he had gone alone. When a shipment would arrive, one or both of them would travel to Boston to oversee the distribution of goods and to see to the next ship’s cargo. Nathan had been gone almost a fortnight, with over a week to go.

Jillian feared how his frequent trips would affect their relationship after they were married. She supposed that until the children came, she would accompany him on his trips. She was truly looking forward to the month-long honeymoon they would be spending in Cape Cod, so she could have him all to herself.

She looked over at Marcus. He sat there gloating, like he knew something that she would die to know. It was probably just some new bit of gossip, but her interest was somewhat piqued.

“Okay, dear brother, what have you done to deserve my praise yet again?” She would play his game for a while.

“Well,” he said wittily, “it was all very coincidental actually.” He paused in an effort to build her suspense.

“Marcus, you have already captured my interest. You’ve no need to toy with me,” she protested.

“If you insist, dear sister,” he said triumphantly. “Well, I was at the bank today.” He paused. “You know, I go there quite frequently. One might think I actually worked there.” He laughed at himself. “Well, actually I do, don’t I?”

“Marcus, please!” He was really in a mood today.

“Well, since, you said ‘please,’ my pet, I will try and ‘please’ you.” Once again he laughed at his joke. “As I said, I was at the bank this morning, when I noticed that Mr. Griffin, the bank manager, was in a very foul mood. So, being the concerned employee that I am, I approached him and said, ‘Why hello, Mr. Griffin.
What a wonderful day we are having today, are we not?’ Now, we all knew he was most certainly not having a good day. He had been short and cross with everyone, including the patrons who happened onto him. He turned and gave me a glare.”

Marcus, ever the actor, changed his facial expression to act the part of Mr. Griffin. Jillian couldn’t help but laugh.

“Honestly, Marcus, sometimes I’d swear you are still a boy. I would think that you would not want to irritate your employer, especially if he was in a foul mood.”

“Now, Sis, don’t go getting your feathers ruffled. I knew what I was doing. Would you like me to continue?” he said in a teasing manner.

“Yes, please do, dear brother of mine.”

“Well, see, now that’s better.” Marcus returned to his imitation of Mr. Griffin once again. “ ‘And what, may I ask, is so wonderful about today?’ Mr. Griffin replied to me—very tersely, I might add. So I pulled a chair up next to him, sat down and asked, ‘Why don’t you tell me about your day? I’ve heard it said that if you get it off your chest, it makes you feel better.’

“He looked at me very doubtfully and I expected him to send me away. Instead, he nodded his head and said, ‘All right, young Mr. Grey, I’ll give it a try. You see, I have been working on this account for months now, and some very vital and confidential paperwork was set to leave by courier this afternoon to Boston. However, the courier company sent me a message a little over an hour ago stating that two of their most trusted couriers had taken ill, and they would not be able to transport my package until the day after next.’

“ ‘I can see why you’re so upset,’ I replied, ‘and I forgive you for losing your temper with me but a little while ago.’ ”

Jillian gasped. “Marcus, you didn’t!”

Marcus chuckled. “No, I didn’t. I just wanted to make sure you were still listening. Now, now, I am trying to tell a story here,” he said as Jillian reached over and swatted him on the shoulder. “ ‘Marcus,’ he told me, ‘I have a half mind to send you to deliver my package.’

“ ‘Well, Mr. Griffin,’ I told him, ‘that isn’t half a bad idea at all . . . if it will get me out of a couple of days of work. He reached out, shook my hand, and said, ‘It’s a deal, my dear boy. You can use the bank’s carriage and the bank will pay your hotel for the night. Go home and ready your things. I’ll send Williams over to pick you up in an hour.’

“So, by my calculations, Williams will be here in about twenty minutes.” Marcus looked down at his pocket watch. Jillian rushed over to him and grabbed his hands.

“You will take me with you, won’t you, Marcus? Then I can see Nathan! I know what hotel he’s staying at.” She looked up at him hopefully.

“Well, now that all depends, Little Sis.”

“On what?” Jillian cried.

“On whether you can be ready in twenty minutes.” He grinned teasingly.

“You know I can!” With that, Jillian kissed her brother on the cheek and dashed upstairs to pack.

Jillian couldn’t stop smiling. She couldn’t complain about the distance to Boston. Marcus was good company, and he had kept her in stitches most of the way, telling her stories and little tidbits of the latest gossip. They had arrived in town a little after sundown, and Marcus had delivered his package straight away.

“Marcus, I’m starving,” Jillian said when her brother climbed back into the carriage. “Let’s go to Nathan’s hotel and get registered. Then we can find his room and invite to him go to dinner with us.” Truthfully, Jillian was a little nervous about surprising Nathan, but she was his betrothed. There could be no harm in it.

“Anything your heart desires, dearest sister.” He gave the driver the address of the hotel.

Butterflies had taken over her stomach by the time they arrived at the hotel. Marcus helped her out of the carriage, and Jillian grabbed his hand and walked anxiously to the registration desk.

“How may I help you?” the hotel clerk offered.

“We are in need of a room for the night,” Marcus replied. The clerk looked Jillian over appraisingly and winked at Marcus.

“I believe I have the perfect room for you.” Marcus, quickly catching the misunderstanding, corrected the clerk’s misguided thoughts.

“We would like two separate rooms, adjoining please; my sister here snores and will keep me up half the night if I am not at least twenty feet away from her.” Jillian jabbed him in the ribs. He was forever embarrassing her in front of people.

“Yes, sir,” the clerk said. He tried to hide his embarrassment by looking closely in his registry book. “I have two rooms joined by a parlor. Will that be sufficient?”

“Yes, indeed.” Marcus signed the book and took the key.

Jillian took the opportunity to address the clerk. “I was wondering if you would ring Mr. Nathan Shaw’s room for me. I am Miss Jillian Grey, his fiancée.” The clerk looked startled for a moment but recovered quickly.

“I’m sorry, Miss Grey, but Mr. Shaw is already out for the evening,” he informed her. Jillian’s face fell.

“Out, did you say? Do you know where he might have gone? Maybe we could join him.” The clerk looked nervous, and Jillian was confused. Where would Nathan be spending his evenings out in a bustling town like this? Surely business hours were over by this time of night.

“I’m sorry, miss, but he did not disclose that information to me.”

Jillian felt that the man was being less than honest but quickly brushed it aside. What reason would the clerk possibly have to lie to her? She would just have to wait for Nathan to return and explain. She and Marcus would have dinner in the hotel restaurant and wait for him in their rooms.

“Thank you, sir.” She started to leave, but as an afterthought, she scribbled a note on a piece of paper that she took from the counter and handed it to the clerk. “Would you please give this to Mr. Shaw when he returns, and could you tell me what room he is staying in?”

“Yes, miss.” The clerk flipped though the registry book and wrote the room number on a piece of paper.

“Thank you.” Jillian forced a smile and put the piece of paper with Nathan’s room number in her handbag. Meanwhile, she watched the clerk take the message she handed him and put it in the box with Nathan’s room key.

Two hours later, Jillian paced the floor in the parlor that joined her room with Marcus’s. She could hardly recall what she’d eaten for dinner. When she discovered that Nathan wasn’t in, she’d lost most of her appetite and consequently had not paid much attention to the food that had been placed before her.
Where could Nathan be?
she wondered.
What does one do in a town like this to entertain oneself?
Nathan wasn’t a drinker or a gambler, so thankfully the drinking houses and taverns were out. Marcus wasn’t being much help. He told her he was sure Nathan had a perfectly good reason for being out and that she needn’t worry. He had purchased a copy of the
Bostonian
and was currently entertaining himself by reading the society page in the winged chair by the fire. Every so often, he interrupted her thoughts to share some tale, or she would hear him laughing lightheartedly.

“Oh, I’m going to bed,” Jillian finally said. She was exasperated with both Nathan’s absence and Marcus’s lack of concern about it. “If you hear from Nathan, please wake me, Marcus.” She bent and kissed her brother on the cheek. “I don’t know why I even bother. What is it with you men? You don’t seem the slightest bit concerned, yet I’m sure I won’t sleep a wink!” She stomped her foot and marched off to her room.

“Temper, temper, Little Sis! Stomping your foot never did get you anywhere.” Jillian slammed her door and heard him laugh heartily after her.

Jillian threw herself on the bed. All of her anticipation for the evening she’d built on the long journey had been deflated. Too frustrated to cry, she got up and dressed for bed, looking about the room as she did. It was a an extremely nice room, although much too expensive, she was sure. Of course, the bank was paying the bill. Not that she couldn’t afford such a room herself, it was quite the contrary, actually—her parents were very well off—Jillian just had an aversion to squandering money frivolously. Marcus, on the other hand, enjoyed the niceties and privileges of the wealthy, despite all his making fun of them. He was never wasteful or prideful though, which added to his good character. That was also another reason he worked at the bank. He was allotted a monthly allowance from their parents, like most of the other wealthy and spoiled socialites, so he didn’t need to work. But Marcus wasn’t spoiled, nor did he feel comfortable taking an allowance from his parents to spend on idle pleasantries. Impressively, if he wanted something expensive, he would pay it from his own salary.

Jillian finished dressing, slipped under the silky blankets, and closed her eyes, but, as she expected, sleep would not come. Her mind kept wondering where Nathan could be. Why didn’t he tell anyone where he was going? What if someone had come to call? But, that was silly. He certainly wouldn’t have been expecting her to show up in Boston. Marcus was probably right. He would have a good explanation as to where he was. It was not his fault she had shown up unannounced. She would stop worrying and get some rest. If not, she would surely look a fright in the morning.

Determined to cease her worrying, Jillian forced herself to relax and finally fell into a fitful sleep, but it did not last long. It was just after eleven o’clock when she woke again. Soft moonlight streamed through the fine lace curtains. The fire had gone out in her room, and she was uncomfortably chilly. It was only March, and the nights still got cold. She looked over at the hearth and saw that the wood box was empty. She had intended to have Marcus bring some wood in from the parlor, but that was before she’d stormed off. She’d been so irritated at her situation, and Marcus hadn’t given her an ounce of sympathy. Jillian threw her blankets back and put on her robe. She would just have to get some herself.