Blood Blade Sisters Series (Entangled Scandalous)

by Michelle McLean

  Chapter Three

  If Brynne had realized what a commotion arriving home on the arm of the Doctor Richard Oliver would cause, she would have been more forceful in insisting he remain at the clinic. Cora was beside herself with smug excitement. She’d been trying to get Brynne to show some interest in the eligible bachelors around town, feeling she’d been a grieving widow for too long. But Brynne wasn’t ready for any of that and had told her so in no uncertain terms.

  Judging from her mother-in-law’s expression, being escorted home by a handsome and seemingly unattached man made Cora as pleased as a cat with his nose in a fish barrel. It was, however, a huge disappointment for the woman Cora was entertaining.

  Mrs. Morey sat ramrod straight in her chair, her hands folded primly in her lap, with the most scathing look of dislike Brynne had so far seen in this fair city. The look evaporated as quickly as it had appeared, to be replaced with a smile that barely touched her lips.

  Brynne was a little confused by Mrs. Morey’s enmity in this particular instance. She supposed it might have to do with running into Brynne for a third time that day. That might be enough to drive the poor old biddy to drink. Then again, Mrs. Morey had never needed a reason to dislike Brynne. None of the society women Brynne had attempted to socialize with had been very welcoming. Brynne was damned thrice over for committing the unpardonable sins of having been born “out in the heathen west” instead of in their fair city, for having an obscene amount of money that came from a ranch and a mine she had worked herself, and for being widowed and independent and wanting to stay that way.

  Brynne had never quite understood the society mavens’ disdain of her wealth. The vast majority of their families had earned their money the old fashioned way, by working for it in every industry from textiles to seafaring. Frankly, the way in which many prominent Bostonian families had made their wealth and what they chose to do with it was one of the reasons Brynne had assumed she’d fit in well.

  Quite a few families had been a little less than ethical, or even legal, when it came to building their fortunes. There was more than one family in Boston who had a few fingers in the smuggling trade and rum-running, not to mention the occasional outright swindle. But, they were incredibly generous with their oft-times ill-gotten gains—patronizing museums, schools, hospitals, and many other worthy institutions. In truth, they weren’t so different from a girl who’d spent a few years raiding the corrupt wealthy of the west behind the mask of a bandit in order to save her town and ranch from going under.

  The Bostonian elite weren’t flashy with their wealth either, and didn’t seem to approve of those who were, an attitude Brynne admired. But Brynne, with her hazy background, Catholic tendencies (thanks to her housekeeper and surrogate mother, Carmen), shiny new money, and murdered husband, was simply too…other, wrong, outside.

  Even with all that, while she hadn’t been particularly accepted, she hadn’t been outright shunned. Yet. The looks Mrs. Morey was throwing at her suggested she soon would be, but she couldn’t imagine what horrid misstep she’d committed since earlier that day when she’d seen the old bat.

  Until she noticed where Mrs. Morey’s eyes were focused. On Brynne’s hand, which was still looped through Dr. Oliver’s crooked elbow. Brynne let go and took a small step away from the doctor. Mrs. Morey’s smugly pursed lips had Brynne clenching her fists within the folds of her skirts. She had half a mind to wrap her arms around the good doctor and kiss him senseless right in front of dear old Mrs. Morey simply to prove that she wouldn’t be intimidated. But Brynne would hate for her mother-in-law to suffer any repercussions because of her. Besides, it might give Dr. Oliver the wrong idea, and he had enough of those about her already.

  “Richard, what a delight to see you,” Cora said, coming toward the doctor with outstretched hands. She greeted him warmly and pulled him toward a sofa. “You must stay for some refreshment and tell us how you came to meet up with our dear Brynne.”

  “Ah, that is a tale that must be told another time, I’m afraid. I must be getting back to the clinic. I simply wanted to make sure Mrs. Forrester made it home safely.”

  Cora pouted prettily. “You work too hard, my boy. You need to learn to enjoy life a little more.”

  “Ah, no worries, my dear Mrs. Forrester, I am always sure to enjoy myself whenever time permits.”

  “Will we see you at the Cabot’s ball on Friday?” Mrs. Morey asked, fairly oozing sickly sweet charm.

  “Certainly. I wouldn’t miss it.” Before Mrs. Morey could reply, Richard turned to Brynne. “And will you be attending, Mrs. Forrester?”

  Brynne hesitated. She hadn’t planned on attending. She turned down most invitations. She preferred to stay home with Coraline than squeeze her body into an impossibly tight corset and subject herself to a room full of disapproval from which there was no escape.

  Cora saved her from having to answer. “But of course, she’ll be attending.”

  Brynne turned surprised eyes to her mother-in-law, who gave her a subtle wink. So much for politely declining.

  “Excellent. I shall look forward to seeing you there.” He took Brynne’s hand and kissed it. “Until Friday, Mrs. Forrester.”

  Brynne resisted the urge to pull away from him, disengaging herself as quickly as politeness allowed. It didn’t fool him, if the arrogant smirk on his lips was any indication. He tipped his hat to Mrs. Morey and excused himself.

  The second the door closed behind him, Mrs. Morey pounced. “How in the world did you end up on the arm of one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston? Are you feeling a bit under the weather? Dr. Oliver is a wonderful physician, to be sure, even if his clinic is a bit of a distance from here. There are several very fine doctors who will come to you, after all, and you needn’t worry about them being indiscreet, no matter what is ailing you. No need to travel all the way to Dr. Oliver to keep your malady private. I do hope it’s not serious, my dear.”

  Her tone held a false note of friendly interest, but Brynne could see right through her. Brynne forced a smile, biting back the retort that threatened to erupt. “I am perfectly healthy, thank you Mrs. Morey. I was merely at his clinic to volunteer my services. I stayed to help when a wall collapsed at a building nearby and some men were injured.”

  “Oh my dear,” she said, holding a handkerchief to her nose as if Brynne had been wallowing in filth. “Quite noble of you, to be sure, but spending so much time around such…unfortunates mightn’t be the wisest course of action. Although, it certainly afforded you an opportunity to gain the attention of our dear doctor.”

  Brynne wasn’t sure what the woman accused her of, but she resented the hell out of it. Cora must have sensed Brynne was reaching the limit of her patience because she jumped in before Brynne could respond.

  “Well, I think it was splendid of you to help those poor injured men. I do hope it wasn’t too trying for you.”

  “Not at all. I was glad to be of help.”

  “And you’ll be seeing Dr. Oliver again?” Mrs. Morey asked, her expression almost daring Brynne to say yes.

  “Yes. I’ve offered to help at the clinic on a daily basis.”

  Mrs. Morey laughed. “Oh my dear, what in the world could you possibly do to help? Change bedpans? Mop floors?”

  Brynne’s eyes narrowed further. “If that is what is asked of me, yes. I’ve certainly done far worse.”

  Mrs. Morey’s amusement faded and she fixed Brynne with a withering glare. “I hope you really are doing this out of the goodness of your heart and not under any ill-conceived notions that you might gain Dr. Oliver’s notice or favor by playing the saint. He’s had his eye on my Elizabeth for several years now and I won’t have you ruining her chances with him.”

  Ah. And there it was. Mrs. Morey didn’t want Brynne interfering with her plans for her odious daughter. Brynne very much doubted Dr. Oliver had any interest in Elizabeth Morey. She was as mean-spirited and obnoxious as her mother and was as ugly as a mud fence. Not that Brynne had
any intention of trying to take the doctor’s attention away from anyone. She was only interested in working at the clinic as a way to do something meaningful with her days, not as a way to snare a new husband.

  But she couldn’t resist torturing Mrs. Morey a tad. “Oh,” she said, feigning surprise, “I wasn’t aware that Richard was interested in any of the young ladies in town.” The use of his Christian name felt odd on her tongue and she’d never address him so to his face, but watching Mrs. Morey try to contain herself at Brynne’s informal use of his name was priceless. “We spoke quite extensively today and he never mentioned your daughter.”

  Mrs. Morey sputtered and Brynne threw in one more barb for good measure. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Morey. I’m sure working in such close proximity with him every day will in no way interfere with whatever plans he may have in regards to your daughter.”

  Cora sat on the sofa, her face as blank as she could make it, though Brynne could see how hard it was for her mother-in-law to keep herself together. Mrs. Morey excused herself very soon after, giving Brynne several parting glares as she flounced out of the house and Cora relaxed against the cushions with relief.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, I feared she’d never leave. I thought for sure she’d have a fit right here in our salon and we’d be forced to call your dear Richard back to see to her.”

  Brynne’s lips twitched. “He is not my dear. Or my anything. I shouldn’t have needled her or led her to believe there was anything more between us than there is, but I couldn’t help myself. She is really worked up over this. Is he that great of a catch?”

  Cora nodded. “Every momma of every unattached girl in the city is after the poor boy. He’s charming, utterly brilliant, and is connected to no fewer than five of the most influential families in the city by blood or marriage and by friendship or business to most of the rest of them. Throw in the fact that he has more money than a bank dipped in gold and a set of heavenly blue eyes that would make a woman twice my age swoon, and you’ve got yourself the most eligible bachelor in Boston.”

  Brynne sighed. All she’d wanted to do was help at the clinic and ease a little boredom, and instead, she’d somehow managed to alienate herself even further from the group of societal mommas that could make or break her reputation. For herself, she didn’t care so much. But Lucy was getting older. At eighteen, she was certainly old enough to marry if she wished. The last thing Brynne wanted to do was ruin Lucy’s chances at being accepted. She had a hard enough road as it was, coming from the same rough-and-tumble background as Brynne. And Coraline didn’t need the stigma of a shunned mother following her for the rest of her days.

  “As much as I hate to do anything that might make that old bag happy, I’ll make sure she knows I don’t have any designs on her darling doctor. In fact, the man is quite bothersome. I’ll only deal with him as much as necessary at the clinic. His virtue is quite safe from me.”

  “If you say so, my dear,” Cora said. She dug out her needlepoint and started stitching, a smug smile barely concealed as she bowed her head to her task.

  “Cora,” Brynne said, her voice full of warning.

  “What?” Cora’s face practically shone with angelic innocence.

  Brynne considered stopping the wild schemes and dreams she was sure were floating through her mother-in-law’s head, but knew it would do no good. She’d told the sweet woman a hundred times over that she had no intention of ever marrying again and Cora was equally as sure that she would. They’d come to a bit of an uneasy truce on the matter. However, Brynne had a sinking feeling that now that Cora had someone specific to set her sights on, the discussion might be revisited.

  But for now, there was another subject that Brynne needed to discuss with Cora. One she’d been dreading. With the renovations of her home complete, it was time for her, Coraline, and Lucy to move into their own place. Leaving her in-laws was proving to be more difficult than she’d anticipated. Especially when she observed how happy Coraline was here. But it was time to stop beating the devil around the stump and get it over with.

  Brynne was about to speak when the sound of tiny running feet and childish giggles rang through the corridor. Both Cora and Brynne turned toward the door, alight with anticipation.

  Coraline flew into the room. “Momma!”

  “Hello, my little chickabiddy.” Brynne scooped her up and nuzzled her neck. Coraline erupted in a shriek of giggles. Brynne watched her daughter laughing and her heart clenched. She snuggled into her, cuddling the little girl into her chest. No matter what sort of day she’d had, all it took was one moment in Coraline’s company and all was right with the world again.

  “She looks so much like Jake,” Cora said, her voice pensive as she watched her granddaughter.

  “She does,” Brynne agreed, smoothing Coraline’s black ringlets from her face. Coraline wiggled to get down and ran to her grandmother.

  “Story! Story!”

  “Why don’t we have Lucy read you a story,” Cora said, ringing her bell to summon one of the servants. “I think your Momma has something she needs to tell me.”

  Brynne looked at her mother-in-law, surprised, not for the first time, at how astute the older woman was.

  Beth, Brynne’s personal maid, came in and fetched Coraline, luring her away with promises of a sweet treat from the kitchens before she was taken to her aunt. Brynne smiled as they left. The whole household doted on her daughter. In fact, she and Coraline had been downright spoiled, fawned over at every turn by everyone in the Forrester’s household. They’d even welcomed Lucy with open arms. Which was another reason Brynne had delayed moving into her own home.

  Still, after living under her in-laws’ roof for almost a year, Brynne longed for her own space again. She’d been used to being mistress of her own domain, taking care of not only her sisters, but a whole town.

  She felt a sudden pang of homesickness for the Richardson ranch in California. The place where she’d grown up, met Jake, and fallen in love with him. She missed him so much sometimes she feared she’d go mad.

  At least on the ranch, she’d had plenty to do to keep her occupied, keep her mind off what she’d lost. But here…here there were servants for everything. Servants who wouldn’t let her help, who seemed almost offended that she wanted to do things for herself. Brynne was so stifled and bored she felt a bit cracked. She hoped having her own household would go a little ways toward alleviating that. And it would certainly provide more freedom.

  The Foresters’ attention bordered on oppressive, as was their determination that Brynne be accepted into Boston society. Cora meant well and did her best to let Brynne run her own life, but she didn’t always understand Brynne’s “quirks.” Such as Brynne’s need to be out in the fresh air, using her body for something more demanding than a barely breathing dress hanger. Brynne tried to squeeze a deep breath past her corset and sighed.

  Well. Time to take charge of her own life again. She’d wallowed in her misery over Jake’s death long enough. She couldn’t hide with his family forever. It was time to start living again.

  “Out with it, my dear,” Cora said, her kind tone softening the sharpness of her words. She took Brynne’s hand. “Your house is ready, isn’t it? Has been for some time, I’d wager…”

  “Yes.” Brynne wasn’t even surprised the older woman knew her news. “It’s not that we haven’t been happy here…”

  “I understand.” Cora patted her hand. But her eyes stayed creased with concern.

  “But…” Brynne prompted.

  “Boston isn’t quite as tolerant as California. You are a widow…living alone. There could be talk. I want you and Coraline to be accepted.”

  Brynne snorted. “I think that ship sailed long ago.”

  Cora gave her a good-natured scowl. “Perhaps. But there is no reason we must sink it before bringing it home again.”

  “I won’t be alone. Lucy will be with me. And I’ve hired most of the staff I will need, in addition to those from the previ
ous owners who have chosen to stay, so the household is nearly set up already. It will be perfectly respectable.”

  Cora didn’t seem reassured.

  “The house is really lovely. I can’t wait to show it to you. And remember, it’s very close. Just over on Cherry Hill Street, so you’ll still be able to see Coraline every day.”

  “Yes, that is true,” Cora said, a genuine smile breaking out on her face.

  “In fact, I was hoping you’d agree to mind after her in the mornings, when I volunteer at Dr. Oliver’s clinic.”

  “You’ll be working with him every morning?”

  Brynne narrowed her eyes. “I will be working in his clinic, not with him.”

  “Still, that seems a very…worthy pursuit of your time.”

  Brynne was going to argue, but decided she didn’t have the energy to fight a battle she’d never win. Nothing she said would change Cora’s mind.

  “It will be wonderful to still have Coraline here every day. And I’d love to help in any other way that I can. I hope you know, my dear, if it doesn’t work out, or if you’d ever like to return, this will always be your home. Always.”

  Brynne was surprised at the tears that pricked her eyes. She hadn’t been sure what to expect when she and Coraline had showed up on the Foresters’ doorstep, with Lucy in tow to boot. Leo, Jake’s brother and her sister Priscilla’s husband, had written to his parents to tell them about Brynne and Coraline and apprise them of their impending arrival. But Brynne hadn’t been sure what their reception would be. The Forresters had been more welcoming than Brynne had ever dared hope.

  She had already stayed far longer than she had anticipated. Frankly, her mother-in-law had made it very difficult to leave. It had been a long time since Brynne had been mothered by anyone. Her own mother had died many years ago and while their housekeeper Carmen had done her best to give the girls all the mothering they needed, it wasn’t the same. Bless Carmen’s loving heart, but she had been more of a drill sergeant than a mother. Then again, with Brynne and her two sisters, she’d had to be.