Katie's Maverick (Strasburg: The New Generation Book 2)

by Pippa Greathouse

  Her eyes opened, and she blinked. "Why?"

  "For coming to the ball of the season on an empty stomach and demanding spirits. Had I known you hadn't eaten, I'd never have allowed it. By the by, I saw your mother and father downstairs as I brought you through the kitchen. Your father looked concerned. When I go down, I'll speak to him."

  "Papa is always concerned about something."

  When he opened his mouth to speak, however, her eyes had closed.

  He watched her a moment and then shook his head. "Brat," he said softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "But this was ultimately my fault. I'd love to hear what the Wilder sisters are saying about us now, downstairs."

  Her eyes popped open. "You should go down and talk to them. Tell them I'm ineb—inebri—" She stopped and began to giggle. "Drunk."

  Nick stared at her. "Right. They could gossip about that one forever."

  "Well," she said. "They have to have something to gossip about."

  A knock on the door sounded, and Lizzie put her head in. "Hannah is here with a tray," she said quietly. "How's Katie?"

  "Katie…" announced Katie "…is drunk." But as Hannah pulled off the covers on it, and the aroma from it filled the room, she sat straight up, her eyes wide and desperate. "And sick!"

  She began to heave, and Nick picked her up and ran to the adjoining bath with her. A moment later, he was holding her over the toilet, one hand holding her head and the other around her shoulders, gathering her hair back to keep it out of her way.

  After several minutes of vomiting, she leaned back against him and closed her eyes. "Oh, Nick," she whispered. "Don't ever let me do that again."

  "I promise, I won't," he said. "Are you finished?"

  She nodded her head, and he pulled the chain on the toilet. The noise made her jump, and he carried her to the sink and washed her face and neck with a damp cloth. When he lifted her again into his arms, she wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled into him. "What would I do without you?"

  He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he carried her back to bed. When he laid her back and settled her into bed asleep, he turned to Lizzie. "I think I'd better get back and show my face downstairs."

  "Yes. Let the Adamses know Katie is all right. Father was down there talking with them as I came up."

  "I will. Send for me if she's ill again."

  A moment later, he was entering through the front door. But he got no further than the vestibule before Eleanor, the oldest of the Wilder sisters, stopped him.

  "Where is Miss Katie?" she demanded. "We don't see her anywhere."

  "Miss Katie," he said, putting emphases on the name just as she had. "Was not feeling well, so my mother whisked her away to lie down upstairs. Lizzie is with her now. However, if you like, when I hear news about her, I'll be glad to let you know, so you can share it." His tone and manner were in every way respectful, but at his words, she bristled. He bowed and moved away, trying to keep the grin off his face.

  "Why, thank you, Mr. Wellington," said the younger sister.

  He turned and bowed, trying to keep a straight face. Mrs. Audra Wilder had completely missed his sarcasm. It was probably just as well. "You're quite welcome, madam."

  He was still muttering under his breath, however, when he caught sight of Katie's parents speaking with his father. Both looked concerned. Immediately, he moved toward them.

  "Nicholas." Her father nodded as soon as he approached.

  Nick purposely kept his voice down. "Father, Mr. and Mrs. Adams, Katie's upstairs in the second wing, resting." He was quietly explaining that she was all right, when her mother turned toward the staircase to go check on her.

  Francis scowled. "No, Nick. Don't tell me. The champagne went straight to her head."

  "Yes, sir. But it's more my fault than hers. I shouldn't have allowed her to have it." He remained downstairs with her father, until Merrie Adams came back down, saying Katie had asked for him.

  He turned, but looking around the room, he could see that more than a few people were watching him. This time, he took the stairs in plain sight. He met his mother, coming back down.

  "You might want to take her home before long, Nick." She's entertaining everyone in the room with stories about the adventures you got into when you were a boy. Some of them I didn't even know about. And some of them," she added. "You might prefer to keep secret."

  "Oh, Lord. Thank you, Mother."

  Katie was chatting nonstop when he reached the room, and he could hear his name coming from her lips. Tightening his mouth, he opened the door and went in.

  Katie put a hand to her lips when she saw him. She was propped up on pillows, sitting in the room with Lizzie, Hannah Kimbrow, Miss Hazel, and Olivia, the judge's little sister. "Oh! The subject of my stories has a-arrived, I see."

  Except for Lizzie, the room emptied out. Katie waved at each of them as they left. Nick shook his head and leaned over her, lifting her chin. "Yes, and I think it's time I took you home. Our two gossips are downstairs, watching everything that goes on."

  Lizzie said, "I'll go down, then. Shall I send Kimbrow to the back door with the carriage?"

  "I'd appreciate that. We'll be down in a few moments."

  "But I don't want to leave. I was having such fun telling stories about you." She laughed. But when she saw his expression, the laugh died away, and she became quiet.

  "Hmm. I'll be hearing my childhood dredged up before me for years, thank you very much, young lady."

  "I'm sorry." Her words sounded humble, but her eyes were twinkling.

  He glanced down at her as he lifted her into his arms. She didn't look repentant. But as their eyes met, he grinned. "I'll believe it when you say it and you're sober."

  "Oh, well, I'm sorry about that, too." Suddenly, she looked around the room, to make sure it had emptied out, and then up into his face. "Nick? You aren't going to spank me, are you?"

  "No. But there will be absolutely no more champagne in your future, so don't ever ask again. And you can tuck that pouty little lip away, right now."

  She sighed and leaned her head over on his shoulder. "Not fair," she groused, frowning. A smack on her bottom followed, and she squealed.

  Within a half hour, he had gotten her home. The Adamses had followed. Katie had chattered all the way home. Only as they had pulled into the circled drive, did she close her eyes and decide to sleep.

  Merrie and Francis were waiting for him as he stepped down from the coach with her.

  "If you'll carry her up, I'll prepare the bed."

  Nick nodded and took her toward the upstairs. A moment later, her mother had the bed turned down and he gently put Katie into it. She had not stirred.

  Nick leaned over, kissing her forehead. "I'll be back to check on you in the morning," he said quietly.

  Katie's eyes opened for only a second. "Thank you, Nick," she murmured softly. "For being there when I needed you."

  He smiled as she closed her eyes again and turned toward her mother. "Would it be possible for me to speak to Mr. Adams?"

  "Yes, he's likely in his study by now, Nick. Feel free."

  "Thank you. I have something to ask him."

  Nick sat in the leather armchair, across from Francis Adams, holding his breath after asking consent to marry Katie.

  Francis looked troubled. He was gazing down at the desk and glanced across at him. "I'm inclined to give it, Nick. As a man, I can understand completely your feelings of responsibility toward Miss Watson. I might have done the same thing. I can also understand your relief when she decided against it. That subject doesn't bother me at all." He paused.

  "I do believe you when you say you love Katie. And I know you'd take very good care of her. I've watched you enough over the years to know that. And I want you to know I trust you. I'd love to have you as a son-in-law."

  He paused before continuing. "The only thing is I haven't had a chance to explore Katie's feelings about you. This is not entirely sudden, and your
request for her hand isn't exactly a surprise to me. I've suspected for years, both of you had your sights on each other. However, I need to discuss it with her before giving my complete consent."

  Nick's mouth quirked up on one side. "Then, can you at least put me on the list?"

  Francis laughed. "I'll put you at the top of it. I'd speak with her now, but I doubt this is a good time."

  "Agreed." Nick rose. "It likely isn't. But I do love her, and I would take good care of her. Thank you, sir, for taking the time to listen to me. If it's all right, I'll come over and check on her tomorrow."

  "She'd be angry as hell if you didn't." Francis reached out to shake his hand, and Nick nodded and left the room. Instead of climbing inside the carriage, he joined Kimbrow topside.

  "Home, Adam."

  "Everything all right, sir?"

  "Perfect."

  "Good, sir."

  Nick didn't speak again all the way home. In his mind's eye, he could see her reaching up her arms and feel her snuggling into his neck. She'd depended on him to take care of her. He was disappointed in her father's refusal to give consent, but if he'd had a daughter, he'd have been hesitant, too. He shook his head slightly. He'd just have to wait.

  The Aftermath

  Katie opened her eyes the next morning and groaned.

  "Good morning, sweetheart. Feeling terrible, I see." Her mother's voice was soft, but it sounded like thunder to her. The curtains were closed, and the room was dark. For that, she was grateful.

  "Yes," she whispered. "Worse than terrible. I think I'll just die and get it over with. I should have learned from the last time I tried champagne."

  "Nick apologized for allowing it."

  Katie stared at her. "Oh, Mother. He tried to stop me. He insisted I have punch, instead. But I was determined to drink the champagne. It wasn't his fault at all. It was all mine."

  Merrie tucked the blankets in around her. "Then, you need to tell your father that. Nick told both of us it was his responsibility for letting you have it. He as much as said he gave it to you."

  "Because he didn't want me to get into trouble. Mother, he's so good to me."

  "It was my fault," said a voice from the doorway. Nick looked down at her. "How do you feel this morning?"

  "You snuck in?"

  "I tried to. Miss Hazel sent over a recipe for ginger tea to help with morning-after hangovers. Miss Constance is making it up for you."

  Katie closed her eyes. "I'll try anything," she whispered.

  "Lady Adams, I'll be glad to sit with her, if you need to be elsewhere."

  Merrie looked back at her daughter. "I think she'd like that, Nick." She rose and patted the seat she vacated, motioning for him to sit. "I'll send up the tea when it's made."

  Francis Adams was standing outside the doorway as his wife left the room. He grinned down at Merrie as she leaned up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek and continued downstairs. Waiting there, unmoving, he watched as Nick leaned over his daughter and put a gentle hand on her forehead.

  Katie opened her eyes and smiled up at him, reaching for his hand, and he clasped her small one and kissed it before holding it between his large ones. For a moment, their eyes locked, and Katie's heavy lids closed.

  Francis leaned into the room, catching Nick's eye. "You have my consent," he mouthed.

  It was when Miss Constance sent up a platter with the concoction the recipe had called for that Katie opened her eyes again. "Here it is." The housekeeper nodded toward Nick. "I've more downstairs when you need it."

  "Thank you, Miss Constance. Hopefully, this will help her."

  "I hope so, too," Katie whispered as she reached toward the cup, her hands trembling. Nick wrapped his hands around hers and brought it to her lips, holding it as she took a sip.

  The face she made was terrible. "That's nasty. Take it away."

  Nick held on to it. "Katie? Do you want to feel better?

  "Yes, but—"

  "Then drink it."

  She squinted up at him, took another sip and groaned.

  "More," he insisted.

  "You're a tyrant."

  "Yes, I suppose I am. And you're suffering the aftermath of last night. Drink."

  She took another sip. "What is it?"

  "Ginger tea."

  "It doesn't taste like the ginger tea I've had."

  "It has some other things in it, too. Miss Hazel swears it works."

  She gave him a withering glance. "Remind me to thank her," she muttered.

  "You'll do it willingly when you start to feel better, I promise."

  When she balked again, he set it down on the table at her bedside and leaned over her. "Young lady," he said in a threatening tone. "For a girl who was so insistent on drinking champagne last night, you're awfully recalcitrant about doing what's necessary to get over the consequences."

  Katie looked up into his face and blinked. "I'm sorry about that. And Mother told me you insisted on taking the blame for it in front of Father. You didn't have to do that."

  "Yes, I did. I could have stopped you. I didn't realize you hadn't eaten, or I would have. It was my responsibility."

  "Oh, Nick. You're so good to me, and I'm such a—"

  "Shh. No more. But I demand that you drink the rest of this. You don't have to drink it all at once. You can sip on it. But the faster you take it, the sooner you'll feel better." He stared down into her face. "And I can't stand seeing you sick. It scares the bloody hell out of me. It was almost worse than when I found you huddled in the snow in Cooksville."

  She reached for the tea, and he gave it to her. She was feeling wretched now and stole a peek up at him as she drank. When she handed it back, she'd managed to down a good bit.

  "Good girl."

  She lowered her head. "I'm surprised you haven't spanked me," she whispered.

  "You don't know how tempting it was, when I first saw you stumble last night. I won't, though. Not this time." He was quiet a moment. When she looked up, his mouth was tight, his eyes dark. "The after-effects you're feeling right now are probably worse than a spanking would be. But, so help me, if you ever attempt to consume it again, I'll take you someplace where it's private and blister your little bottom. Good."

  Her shoulders sagged, and she slid down in the bed. "I'm sorry, Nick."

  But his expression had softened now, and he was pulling the covers up to her chin. "Here," he said softly. "I want you to rest. I'll be here."

  She sighed and looked up. "Thank you."

  He was reaching down and pushed a stray curl away from her face.

  "Just rest, sweetheart."

  Katie lay with her eyes closed, on the verge of sleep. He'd called her sweetheart? A warm and soft feeling enveloped her, a feeling of deep security. She felt a feathery light kiss on her forehead just as unconsciousness claimed her, and she fell asleep smiling.

  Katie stood in her father's study that afternoon, dressed and feeling better, until her father explained he'd given Nick his consent. Her hands were fisted on her hips, her shoulders back, as she glared at her father with her chin jutted out in defiance. Nick leaned against the bookshelf, his hands jammed into his pockets.

  Katie was tapping a foot on the floor impatiently.

  "You gave him what?"

  "You heard me, Katie. I gave him my consent for your hand."

  "How could you, Papa? Honestly? How could you without consulting me? What am I, goods to be sold without my consent?"

  "Katie!" Francis Adams crooked a finger at her. His generally agreeable face had lost its smile now. "I suggest you act respectfully. I doubt there is anyone in this world who cares about you as much as Nick does. And it wasn't entirely without your consent. I stood outside the door this morning, watching, and listening to the two of you. I have no doubts about this."

  Katie was still scowling, but she moved forward. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, Papa. It's just that I would very much like to have been asked first. I can't believe you did this!"

  Nick'
s voice was deep, his eyes locked on hers as he spoke. "There is someone else you prefer, Katie?" When she didn't answer, he moved toward her and lifted her chin. "Shall I withdraw my offer, then?"

  She gasped, and alarm settled in her eyes. "No, I-I didn't say that, Nick."

  He tilted her chin up slightly further and said softly, "Then I strongly suggest you think about what you meant. Good day, young lady." He nodded toward Francis and strode out the door to his horse.

  Katie's shoulders slumped as she followed him to the door. As she watched him mount his horse and ride away, she put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Papa. What have I just done?"

  "You've sent away a man who cares deeply for you. I'm surprised at you, Katie. I've rarely seen you be so rude. And I agree with him. I suggest you think about your behavior, not just toward me, but toward him. If I were you, I would take the carriage and go after him." He watched her a moment. "But check with Gleason on the weather before you leave. It looked earlier as if it might storm."

  The wretchedness of what she'd done dawned on her. Suppose he did withdraw his offer of marriage? She couldn't blame him if he did.

  Instead of taking the carriage, she ran to the stables. "Gleason! I need a horse, please?"

  Gleason Carter looked toward her. "Miss Katie, you look awfully pale. And have you taken a good look at the sky? If you insist, I'll get the carriage out. Toby can take you over."

  Katie glanced up. It did look dark in the southwest. She could see the fall of rain in the distance. "No, Gleason, it'll take too long. Bring Flame out quickly, please."

  "Where to?"

  "Pembroke."

  He frowned. "You might make it, if you hurry. If you don't, your papa will fire me, that's for sure."

  "No, he won't. I promise. He's the one who told me to go."

  Gleason turned his scowl toward the house and finally stepped inside and brought out Flame. A second later, he had the saddle on him and was holding him for her to mount.

  Katie shouted her thanks. She whistled; Flame flew. She caught the eye of Toby, watching her in the distance as she headed out as fast as her horse would go. He looked as unhappy as Gleason.