Stealing Sterling (The Dueling Pistols Series)

by Katy Madison

  Suzanna studied him with a hint of uncertainty in her expression. Just the wrong word from him and she would start the waterworks. He hated it when women cried to get what they wanted.

  “Fine, I’ll take care of buying furniture,” he said.

  “I would have taken care of it, truly, John. But I was waiting on Mary to help.”

  Or was she waiting on Mary to do it all for her? “About the servants.”

  Suzanna bit her lip. “I have never so much as hired a maid.”

  Neither had he. “Never mind. We’ll muddle through getting a staff afterward when we get settled in.”

  She bounced on her toes nearly knocking him in the nose. “After we get back from our trip. Where are you taking me on our honeymoon?”

  “We’re not taking a trip.”

  “But everyone takes a marriage trip.”

  Not in his experience. But she was from a different world than he was used to. Had he made a gross misstep in not planning a short trip somewhere? “We can’t travel. I am involved in too many business negotiations right now.”

  He’d been busy pouring over contracts and comparing proposed rail routes. He knew he needed to take three times as long as a man raised in industry to understand the legal wording and research costs. Hell, he’d been a teenager before he learned to write his own name. But he had mastered reading and writing and ciphering when others had told him he was too old to learn that.

  “But I have the most wonderful traveling suit being made. It has jet buttons and braided trim.”

  “Suzanna.”

  She backed away as if he’d slapped her. “But you have been everywhere, and I have never been outside of Boston. We could go to London and stay with my Aunt Lydia. She is a countess you know. And I could be presented to the queen. I know they have the loveliest balls there.”

  “I am ready to settle down and start a family, not go to London.”

  Suzanna dropped her gaze to the couch and straightened a crocheted doily. “I was thinking, that perhaps we could hold off on the family, and well, give me a chance to see the world. I know I’m not ready to be a mother.”

  He’d heard what she said, and it was sinking in like a two ton anchor. “Just how do you propose we hold off on a family?”

  Suzanna turned bright red. “I’m sure you know better than I.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “We just wouldn’t...”

  “Sleep together?”

  She wadded the doily she’d just straightened. “Must you be so blunt?”

  Blunt be damned. “Not have marital relations?”

  She nodded tentatively.

  His bride was telling him she didn’t want to have sex with him. Not that he had pushed the issue. He’d thought about kissing her, but had only managed a peck on the cheek when they became engaged. She was always bouncing around or twirling. To be truthful, after a few suggestive looks which turned her skittish, he hadn’t put much effort into her seduction. If she had gotten the impression that he wasn’t interested in that aspect of marriage, he needed to correct it right now.

  “No. I want a real marriage and a real wife and children. If you want out, you better say so now.”

  She shook her head. “It was just an idea, John. Don’t be angry.”

  “If you’re going to call me John then get it right. Call me Silver John or not at all. Otherwise my name is Sterling.” He yanked the parlor door open. Damn, he shouldn’t have been left alone with his bride. His bride who didn’t want to sleep with him. And what startled him most of all was for a second he had hoped she would call the whole thing off.

  Mary dragged herself out of bed, even though her throat was raw and her head felt like a watermelon. She knew she was largely to blame for her condition. She had come home from her brother’s house damp and wet and hadn’t wanted to change because she preferred to spend time with her sister’s fiancé. For which she deserved to be punished with the worst head cold she’d had in years.

  She was worried about the wedding. Delegating tasks to Suzanna left her uneasy about whether or not things were getting done. Suzanna had a tendency to gloss over details and ignore the resulting problems. With exactly three weeks to the wedding, they needed to start addressing the invitations and get them mailed.

  Suzanna met her halfway up the stairs. “He’s a hateful man.”

  “Who?” asked Mary.

  “John, Sterling—I had no idea he didn’t like to be called by his middle name. Sterling is such an odd name.”

  “It’s not that odd.” A surge of protective instincts swamped Mary. What had Sterling said to upset her sister? On the other hand, what did Sterling have beyond his name and money that he could consider all his own? And Suzanna was rejecting his name and she’d make short work of his money. “What did he do?”

  “He was furious at me. Are you well enough to go out? He’s complained because I haven’t bought any furniture, but he should take care of that. I can’t do everything. But I suppose we shall have to get the drapes and carpets. He only said he’d get furniture.”

  “He probably wants you to pick out what you want rather than risking choosing things you don’t like. And we should order a new stove for the kitchen.”

  “Why?”

  “So it shall be there when you move in.”

  “No, I meant why do I need a new stove? Oh never mind, I’m sure you would know. I don’t know why he took you to see my house. And he didn’t even ask me about it. I meant to travel. We didn’t have to have a house. He’s the one who wants to settle down, he can pick out the furniture.”

  Suzanna flounced toward the back drawing room, which had more or less been converted to a dressmaker’s lair. Mary winced to see most of the dresses being made were in the girlish pinks and lemon pastels Suzanna favored. As an almost married woman she could have chosen bolder more mature colors for her trousseau.

  “He meant for you to see the house and see if you raised any objection to it. But you were too busy with the dressmaker and your wedding gown. And a household is usually considered a woman’s providence. Why shouldn’t he expect you to order the furniture you want?”

  “Well, what is he doing all the time?” Suzanna pouted.

  Beyond arranging for indoor plumbing for his spoiled bride? Had Mary’s indulgence with her younger sister after their mother’s death stifled Suzanna’s maturity? “Planning railroad routes and the like, I imagine. Why don’t you ask him? He seemed very easy to talk with.”

  “He will be just like Papa always working, won’t he? He says we won’t have time to travel. He’s been to France and Spain and all over America, but he doesn’t want to take me anywhere.”

  Suzanna plopped down in a chair.

  “You have the key. We could walk over there and look around your house right now.”

  Suzanna stuck out her lower lip. “I don’t want to. He’s probably there.”

  “Fine.” If it was odd that Suzanna wanted to avoid her future husband, who was Mary to comment? “Shall we get started on the invitations, then?” asked Mary.

  “I forgot to pick them up.”

  Mary’s head pounded. “You did order them?”

  “Yes, I just forgot to pick them up.”

  Mary turned around and headed for the door. She was half tempted to go back to bed. “I don’t suppose the stationary shop is open on Saturday.”

  “No. I told them exactly what to print on them, just like you told me.” Suzanna followed her out into the hallway. She was too eager to reassure. Mary wanted to shake her.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To your room.”

  Suzanna ran ahead and held her wedding gown against her front when Mary sedately followed her up the stairs and into her sister’s ruffled room. “See, there is only the hem left, and if John were to take me to London, I could wear it to be presented to the queen.”

  Mary had seen the gorgeous dress more times than she wanted to count. The only area of interest Suzanna exhibited for her wedding
was the new clothing. The key to Suzanna’s new home hung on her dressing table mirror, next to a daguerreotype of their Aunt Lydia and Uncle Victor.

  Suzanna was said to look like their Aunt Lydia who had been headstrong and run away to England as a young woman.

  Mary moved over to the cedar chest under the window and unlatched the hasp. She had a matching chest in her room. When she lifted the lid a cavernous space greeted her. It was not totally empty, but the contents weren’t linens and quilts. The chest held a couple of abandoned embroidery projects and three porcelain dolls and their complete wardrobes.

  A sense of futility overwhelmed Mary. She realized that she had not urged Suzanna to fill her hope chest with the appropriate items, the way her mother had helped her. After their mother’s death and her own captain being lost at sea, encouraging her little sister to ready herself for marriage had been too painful to contemplate.

  “Well, you have these lovely dolls to give your daughters. I shall give you my linens and quilts, who knows when I shall ever need them.”

  When Mary turned around her sister stood still as a statue, a pose almost never seen with Suzanna.

  “I can’t take your linens. I know you worked so hard on them.”

  “I can make new. I’m sorry, darling, I don’t think I’ve helped you prepare for marriage at all.” Mary blinked away regret at the thought of all the hours she spent embroidering the edges of pillow slips and sheets with silvery leaves on a satin border.

  She leaned over and pulled out a doll. Her sister had never really carried them around, which meant they were all in pristine shape. Mary’s childhood dolls had chipped noses, missing fingers and cracked finishes. She had dragged her babies everywhere and on more than one occasion Suzanna had caused a mishap.

  Suzanna had loved giving her dolls new outfits. “Maybe you should keep the dolls, Mary. I’m sure you will want to give them to your daughters. I know I ruined most of yours.”

  “You were just a baby when I was playing with dolls. I hardly hold you accountable for their nicks and knocks.”

  Tears filled her sister’s eyes. “I...I don’t want to have children. At least not yet. When I told John we should wait for a while, he was so angry.”

  Mary wanted to comfort her sister, but this was serious and the last thing she wanted was to pass her cold to her sister right on the eve of her wedding. “Suzanna, if you want out of the marriage, you must say so right now before things go too far.”

  Suzanna gave Mary an odd look and put her dress back on the hanger. “That’s the same thing he said.”

  No wonder he had been angry. No man wanted his wife rejecting his attentions and certainly not before the wedding night had even passed. Mary needed to have a serious talk with her little sister about things that she didn’t know enough about herself. It would be a serious case of the ignorant leading the innocent. “Suzanna, you probably wounded his pride. Men—”

  “I knew you’d take his side.” She ran out of the room and down the stairs.

  Maybe Mary should try to smooth the waters with Sterling. She could tell him that Suzanna was scared and didn’t really have anywhere to turn for reliable information about what to expect. Certainly, Mary couldn’t offer any help in that regard.

  Since they couldn’t work on invitations, she could deliver her hope chest. She called for a couple of the grooms to carry the cedar chest down to a cart. After she tied on her wide-brimmed straw hat, she grabbed a measuring tape, pencil, and paper. Suzanna wouldn’t think to measure the rooms for the carpets and drapery. She tried to find her sister only to learn she’d gone out visiting with Nathan.

  Sterling had his shirt off as he wrestled the bed up the stairs. The task would have been much easier with two men, but he hadn’t been home when the bed was delivered and the crate had been left outside.

  He’d learned to remove as much of his clothes as possible when panning for gold in California. New clothes, there, had been very dear and even the Chinese laundry that cleaned and repaired his old ragged clothes hadn’t been cheap.

  He heard the knock on the door as he flopped the mattress onto the frame. Unwilling to have the weight drag the bedding to the floor and make moot his efforts, he continued shoving and pulling until the thick feather mattress was in place on the wooden frame.

  Grabbing his shirt and thrusting his arms in the sleeves, he headed down the stairs. A key scrapes in the lock. Had Suzanna come to apologize? Tell him she’d changed her mind? He already half decided, she was suffering from prewedding jitters.

  Which also most likely explained his own growing apprehension about his choice of bride. He was confident he’d chosen the right family. Her male relatives, uncles, father and brother—the one he’d met—were cordial and offering useful advice and introductions that helped him with his fledgling business.

  Her more mature sister epitomized competence. Perhaps too much competence. In her shadow, Suzanna relied too much on Mary. Surely, Suzanna in time and the security of her own household would grow into a full-fledged Hamilton. Wouldn’t she?

  He had reached the fifth step from the bottom when the front door swung open.

  Mary drew to a complete stop, her brown eyes widened as she stared up at him. Bumped from behind, she hastily gathered herself and moved to the side of the entry hall.

  “Just take it in the front room for now.” Mary said, her voice scratchy. “I’m sorry. When you didn’t answer the door right away, I thought you weren’t home. I never should have barged in.”

  “It’s all right. I was putting the bed together.”

  The men carried in a large chest and set it in the center of the floor. She followed them into the empty room and set a paper and pencil down on top of the chest.

  Sterling looked out the open door for her sister. Only a cart with a single horse stood in front of his house. He followed her into the parlor.

  The two men hesitated caps in hands. Mary turned to them and thanked them and told them to take the cart home; she would walk back. She put her hand on her throat and swallowed.

  “Are you sure you should be out so soon after being ill?” Sterling fumbled to button his shirt.

  She turned around and then quickly averted her head and coughed. “I’m fine, although you should keep your distance in case I still carry some contagion.” She cleared her throat and raised a measuring tape while studying a corner with keen interest. “I need to get measurements for carpets and drapes.”

  The two men exchanged looks as if Mary shouldn’t be here alone with him, even if he was shortly to be her brother by marriage. She had warned him to keep his distance. “I’ll see her safely home shortly,” he said to the two men.

  The men cast a last look in Mary’s direction, nodded, then made their way out the door.

  “Where is Suzanna?” Sterling asked as soon as they were alone.

  “She went visiting. That’s part of why I came, well, besides bring over Suzanna’s hope chest, that is. I don’t think she meant...anything earlier.” Mary looked a little desperate.

  Sterling unbuttoned his pants to tuck the tails of his now buttoned shirt in. Mary took a sharp breath and then coughed in earnest. He headed for the kitchen and returned with a jelly jar filled with water. “I don’t think you should be out of bed, yet.”

  She took the glass jar and drank greedily. When she lowered the rim, she said, “I wanted to explain that Suzanna is very innocent and I’m not...”

  “You’re not innocent?” He knew she wasn’t leading to that, but couldn’t resist the opening.

  Her cheeks turned rosy in a delightfully charming way, and she dipped her head down. Her large hat obscured her face, so he bent his knees and leaned over to see her wide-eyed expression.

  “No, you are teasing me. I have no real experience in this area, and she doesn’t really have any where to turn for reliable information about what will happen when you two marry.”

  Sterling waited his arms folded.

  Mary’s scratch
y voice dropped to a whisper. “You know, in the marriage bed.”

  “I already figured she’s scared.” Why was Mary here? How was he supposed to reassure her that her sister would come to enjoy marital relations with him? He would sound unbelievably arrogant and a little too philandering for her innocent lifestyle if he relayed assurances based on past experiences.

  “I said from the beginning I wanted a family. Why are you here? You can’t fix everything for her.”

  She coughed. Her expressive brown eyes watered. She was a little hurt, no doubt, by his abruptness. Nor, did she look at all well. While she was taking care of everyone else, who took care of her?

  He shook his head. “If you never allow her to rely on herself, then she’ll never be accountable. I’m making you hot tea. It’ll soothe your throat.”

  He turned and walked back to the kitchen. He’d been forced by his own need to eat to stock food in the larder. He had his old mess kit, minus the two flat dishes, which he made do with.

  As he dumped tea leaves into his battered and fire-stained coffee pot and let them steep, he had too much time to think.

  The way Mary reacted looking at his bare chest he found so much more interesting than her sister’s recoil from the idea of making children. The thought of how much work Suzanna’s seduction might require left him cold. In fact, he wished he’d waited to see the older sister before making his offer.

  Placing a piece of clean cheese cloth over his single tin cup, he strained the strong tea. He added lemon, honey, and a healthy dollop of whiskey.

  Mary was undoubtedly here to smooth the waters and make sure this wedding to her little sister went forward. Not only was she a caretaker, she was a peacemaker, even when sick.

  He’d never been a patient man. His real strength was persistence. He’d made mistakes before by choosing too quickly, but never had one felt as fatal as this one. He didn’t want peace between him and Suzanna. He wanted a rift so big it couldn’t be mended, but as a gentleman of honor he couldn’t withdraw his offer of marriage. He’d made his bed; now he’d have to lie in it.