He ignored her, hardness etched into his eyes and features. Under the low light coming from windows along the street, he looked every inch the lawbreaker. Fear rose higher. She must escape him.
Irritated, she snatched her arm from his grip. “Let me go.”
As they stopped, he towered over her, all muscle and authoritative male. Intimidating seemed too light a word to describe him. “We don’t have time for this. There’s a single cabriolet down there—” Just then two men jumped into the cab and it rolled down the street in the opposite direction. “Damn it.”
“I’d ask you not to curse, sir.”
He planted his hands on his hips. “You could ask, but it won’t do you much good. We’ll have to walk.”
They hurried to the Cambrian Inn, which was closer than the lodge. All along the trip, she tried to think what to say. Her mind skittered from point to point. She knew one thing for certain. She refused to stay another night with him. They hurried as rain pummeled the earth. Lightning and thunder flashed nearby with an ear-splitting crack. Mary Jane felt like a player in a macabre tale of terror she had read as a young girl.
She pointed at a sign, just visible through the torrent across the street. “There is the Cambrian.”
Elijah lifted her in his arms with rippling strength. She gasped in protest, but he ran into the rain and across the street. The way he dashed across the street, holding her as if it caused no effort, amazed her. Rain sluiced across her face, drenching her immediately.
Before she knew it, he set her on her feet under the crude awning in front of the hotel. “Here we are, darlin’.”
She swiped water from her face with her gloved hand. “Do not call me darlin’.”
Exasperation crossed his features. “Mrs. McKinnon.”
“Do not call me that, either. I am tired of the deception.” She wanted to scream. Her body ached. Her scalp itched under her hat. Water trickled down her neck. His display of masculine force sent quivers of reaction straight to her midsection. She was angry and yet…something about him still captivated her attention.
“I am not your darling or your wife, so you can stop pretending.”
His eyes flashed with answering indignation. “I know why you’re angry, but you’ll have to let it go. Now isn’t the time—”
“Let it go? I do not think so.” She poked one gloved finger into his midsection. “I am not staying in this hotel with you in the same room. We are getting separate rooms.”
“We are staying in the same room.”
“We are not.” She gritted out each word with emphasis. “You are not my husband, and I certainly have not taken any vows to obey you. And even if I had, it would not matter.”
“Listen to me—”
“I am through listening to you.” She poked him in the chest again for emphasis. “You lied to me.”
Thunder rumbled across the heavens, and he glanced up as the heavy clouds turned the day into early dusk.
His gaze snapped back to her, filled with as much fury as the heavens. “I have never lied to you.”
“By omission.”
“Mary Jane, I never lied. But you’re not interested in hearing what really happened to me, are you?”
“Not in the slightest.”
Lightning splintered the sky, jumping from cloud to cloud in an eerie dance.
“Then I guess I was wrong about you.”
“Me?” She huffed. “What have I done?”
He stepped closer. His gaze clashed with hers, eyes intense, burning with a firm desire to explain, to tell her secrets she did not know if she wished to hear. “When I first met you I thought you were a prissy, uppity snippet of a woman.”
She gasped. “What?”
“Then I thought maybe I was wrong. But the way you acted just now tells me my first impression was right.”
Almost trembling with a combination of anger, cold and even fear, she asked, “How so?”
“By convicting me before you know the facts of the matter. I’ve never given you any reason to think you couldn’t trust me.”
She made a scoffing sound. “Oh? You could have told me right up front you had been in prison.”
He laughed, but the sound held no mirth. “And you would have run screaming immediately and straight into the arms of those two creeps.”
More resentment piled high. “What? That is absurd. I am not an imbecile, Elijah McKinnon. I do not run screaming to anyone. I would ask you not to insult me.”
“Darlin’,” his lilting accent filled with biting, unmistakable Irish charm, “I never insult a lady.”
Her fists clenched at her sides. “Then why did you practically drag me down here and haul me across the road like a package?”
He pointed down the street, his gaze flashing almost as quickly as the lightning. “Because those cretins that accosted you are waiting for a chance to catch you alone like they did the other day.”
“I think you were simply embarrassed because that man recognized your name.”
“Lady, you’re something else. I was beginning to think you were different than some of the high society prigs I’ve run into in my life, but I guess you’re not.”
Her voice rose to unladylike proportions. “How dare you?”
“I dare because it’s the truth.”
Once more he edged closer, and she realized they were almost chest-to-chest. Apparently he thought bullying would make her cower. She would show him.
One last time she poked him in the chest. “I do not know why I am bothering having this conversation with you.”
“Sure, darlin’, and that wouldn’t be proper decorum now, would it? Waiting long enough to calm down and listen just wouldn’t do.”
The sarcasm in his voice fueled her desire to have the last word. “That is also your fault.”
“What?”
“Only a man with a questionable background would spend his time outside a hotel in the middle of a horrible storm arguing with a woman.”
His eyes turned smoldering, dangerous, and warning her to back away from the challenge. “I could’ve made some assumptions about you at the beginning. That even though you’re in mourning dress you’re a weak, insipid, defenseless woman in need of a man.”
“That is what you did. You decided you needed to rescue me. Well, I do not need rescuing.”
A raw, consuming heat entered his eyes. “Listen, if I was the rounder you’re accusing me of being, I could’ve hurt you before now. Really hurt you in ways you can’t even imagine. And there’s a good chance, if you don’t keep on your guard, that some other man on this trip will try just that.”
Something hot and exciting moved between them, and her chest rose and fell with her quicker breathing. Conflicting emotions tumbled and swirled within her, demanding notice. Anger, certainly, but something more worrisome took its place. Despite the fact Elijah infuriated her, she wanted more from him. More of his touch. More of his arms around her.
Fear stalked her, but not that Elijah would harm her. Trepidation that she would do or say something even more outrageous than she already had.
All her past failings rose up and threatened to overwhelm her. To remind her how weak she really was.
“If those men approach and try to hurt you, what are you going to do? Scream?” he asked.
“Of course. And fight back.”
Once more his gaze trailed over her from head to toe, and she felt his attention caress her like a touch. “That dress keeps you hobbled, not capable of fighting a man as well as you could. I suggest you remove the crinoline. At least without that you have some chance.”
“I cannot leave behind my crinoline.”
He smirked. “Didn’t think you would.”
Rain dripped from his drenched hair and splattered onto his nose. Mary Jane ripped her gaze from his, unable to withstand the emotions she saw there. Her attention landed on his proud nose, then the interesting line of his mouth. In a bizarre, unexpected way, she wanted that mouth on
hers. Needed his taste. She remembered the heat as his mouth had molded and tasted and learned. The incredible sensations that had bombarded her. Mary Jane knew there was more pleasure to experience under his touch. Recklessness threatened to sweep her up, demand more adventures, more forbidden exploration.
“The last thing I need is to take protection from a criminal,” she said in defense.
Unmistakable perturbation cut through his face. She stormed past him and into the hotel. She paused as she took stock of the entryway. Wingback chairs graced the area, as well as a large settee next to a roaring fireplace. Gleaming copper, pewter and wood finishing, dark green velvet and red drapes covered windows and blocked out lightning darting across the heavens. A few rough and tumble men stood by the windows watching the storm toss the branches of gigantic trees. They glanced at her but quickly lost interest. Satisfied, she hurried to the front desk. Well aware she probably looked a sight, she resurrected the smile she used for difficult moments.
The dignified, mustached man at the counter smiled in return. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Horrible storm.”
“Indeed.”
Mary Jane half expected Elijah to stride into the hotel any minute. She glanced around, but another man and woman dashed in the front door, sputtering as rain continued to lash the area. She saw no sign of Elijah.
“Is anything wrong, ma’am?” the front deskman asked.
“Well, there is actually. My husband and I had a bit of an argument. I would like a room to myself, and he will require a separate room.”
The older gentlemen’s caterpillar thick eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “I see, madam. I have just the room. I doubt your trunks will make it over from the station in this weather, though.”
“I will not need it this evening.”
“Well, then, we have room eight for you. There’s only two more rooms even left for tonight, so you just made it.”
After writing her name as Mary Jane McKinnon in the register and paying for her room, she headed to the second floor via the staircase off to the right. Room eight, as she quickly discovered, was at the top of the stairs and to the right. Likely to be a noisy pathway, but what could she do?
Once she settled in her room, she unpinned her destroyed hat and sighed. “How awful.”
She didn’t have another hat with a mourning veil and doubted she could find another purchase. If she dried the hat, she could attempt to reshape it in the morning. She groaned. This trip had become more than her duty and grief for her father. The journey was two parts horrifying and one portion exciting. Shivering with cold, she worked to remove her wet clothes.
“Second time I have bothered with this,” she said, annoyed.
Why am I annoyed? She knew why. Events today, including discovering Elijah’s criminal past, served to frazzle her nerves. His weapon secretly tucked away should have given her a clue that not everything with him was as it seemed.
She calmed herself with a deep breath and resolved to dry off. She undid the topknot on the back of her neck and let her hair flow down in wet lengths. It reached nearly to her waist. She had considered trimming it—tired of the great efforts it took to wash. Mary Jane glanced in the large beveled mirror above the dresser. Parted down the middle, her hair didn’t boost the usual ringlets and coils about the ears that she normally wore. No…mourning required more restraint. Startled at the high, pink color in her cheeks, she leaned forward and glared at her image. She would manage to wrestle out of her clothing without Elijah’s helping hand. When she lived in her little apartment at the college, she had relied on her roommate Sarah for assistance, just as Sarah relied on her.
She remembered Sarah’s expression when she’d learned of Mary Jane’s disgrace. It still hurt to recall how Sarah had turned away from her, disgusted by what she had learned. Obviously scandalized that Mary Jane and Thaddeus—
No. No more. Do not think on it.
Though determined, it took her some time to wrestle off her clothes and arrange them on a chair near the fire to dry. Water had not reached her undergarments, thank goodness, so she could avoid nakedness altogether. What she would not give for a cabriolet bonnet to weather storms like the one outside instead of a mourning hat.
Her stomach growled, but tiredness beckoned more than the need for food.
She glanced down at the ring on her left hand. With a sound of disgust, she pulled it off her finger and sat it on the dresser. There. She’d give the thing back to him tomorrow and end this charade. She must have lost all sense and propriety agreeing to this scheme, and she refused to be a party to it any longer.
She climbed into the four-poster bed. A nap would do her good after that argument with Elijah. She could dine later. Though anger still pulsed through her blood, calmness started to overtake her. Few moments in her life had ever felt that frantic or fraught with uncertainty. Another comprehension came to Mary Jane. Never in her life had she experienced a disagreement as heated and contentious.
And to her chagrin, she had never felt as excited as she had while fighting with Elijah.
How bizarre. That cannot be normal.
Drat. She did not have her diary once again. Still, her mind mulled over what she would say in her diary, if she only had it.
Dear Diary,
I had the most horrible argument with Elijah today and cannot believe how it made me feel. I must guard against these feelings with everything I have. These kinds of feelings led me down the wrong path with Thaddeus. An awful, awful path. But I digress.
He is a criminal. He was released from Eastern State Penitentiary not long ago. Not only is it scandalous but—
Drat. I do not know how to feel about him and it is making me quite insane. Perhaps I should list his good qualities and his bad.
Good.
He is protective.
Strong.
Clearly does not like to see women harmed.
He speaks plainly, which is not something I experienced with Thaddeus. Thaddeus wove lies like a spinster knits socks. Yes, Thaddeus was a polite, proper liar.
Elijah does not appear to lie. He simply does not tell me everything. He hides his past, and now that I have discovered he was in prison, I can understand why. People would shun him.
I have shunned him.
Still, he deserves it for practically yelling at me in front of the hotel.
To be fair, I poked him in the chest and almost yelled at him.
His bad qualities are many.
He is poor and not likely to ever be rich. I cannot be attracted to a man who is poor. My family would not accept that.
He is Irish and Catholic.
Mother would not like that. A woman should socialize within her class and religious affiliation.
He speaks too plainly.
My mother and sisters would find that awful.
Moreover, he confuses me. He actually seems to like women who are somewhat independent and yet he is determined to play my husband.
Husband. Well, I cannot be too concerned about that since I shall never marry. What is the harm in using the deception to assist me in my quest to reach Pittsburgh unscathed?
Oh, bother.
She reached for the ring she’d taken off just a short time ago and jammed it back on her finger.
Mary Jane clasped her head between her hands and groaned in distress. It was not if she ever wished to marry in the past. But if she was to have the secure life her mother and sisters said she should want, she must find a husband somehow, someway, at some point in her life before she became so old no man would have her.
Or, I could remain a spinster.
That was what she really wanted. No man meddling in her life and creating havoc.
She hated confusion, and if there was anything Elijah did to her, it was confuse. She did not want to like him. A man this intriguing could ruin her, just as Thaddeus ruined her with promises he could not keep.
She would do well to remember that a man would always disappoint her in the end. Al
ways.
Damn her infuriating, beautiful hide.
Elijah sat in the hotel bar and stared into the mirror above the bottles of liquor. Drawn and quartered. That’s what she’d done to him with her reaction, her scathing assessment of his integrity.
Did he expect anything different?
No.
She’d shown her lily-white, upper crust contempt when she’d judged him.
He grimaced, watching his own frown expand. Damnation, she’d wormed herself into his blood, his mind and thoughts from one moment to the next. He also looked like a condemned man. He’d tried drying his hair in his room, but the thick mat didn’t cooperate. Hell, he was just lucky he’d grabbed the last room.
Elijah brooded, glaring into the shot glass he held. He needed time to calm down and keep sober. No need to go mad with drink. He needed a level head in his pursuit of his brother.
Keep your mind on your goal, man. Mind on your goal.
He stayed in the bar until well past dark, nursing a single drink, then decided he required a respite from the smoky bar.
Once outside on the deserted back porch, he peered into the blustery evening. Where could he go from here? Contemplation stalled him from returning inside. He’d discovered through the desk clerk that his room was next to Mary Jane’s.
Rain pounded so hard on the roof and porch that it rushed and rolled and sounded like a flood coming to wash them away. Anticipation grew in the air, a strange craving to rush to Mary Jane’s room and make her understand.
He wasn’t a criminal. He wasn’t a bad man.
An ache started in his gut. Maureen had died because he couldn’t save her. And his ma rejected him.
What difference did one more female’s displeasure and stubbornness matter?
Elijah jammed a hand through his hair and grimaced. Saints’ preserve us. Why do I care that she thinks I’m a good man or even if she believes I’m a criminal. He settled into a chair against a wall and breathed the cooling night air. Best if he dumped those notions right now.
His only goal remained finding Amos and taking revenge for what the bastard had done. Caring about a woman he’d just met did not figure into his plans, and he’d forgotten that. Tomorrow he’d make sure she arrived at the canal safely. After that, she could take care of herself. She’d taken care of herself for all her life before he’d seen her on the train. She could continue to do so without him.
Before the Dawn Page 8