Charity House Courtship (Love Inspired Historical)

by Renee Ryan

  For a moment, Laney considered Katherine’s suggestion. Marc had told her she wasn’t alone anymore. She’d nearly believed him. But that was before his wife had shown up. “He has too much to worry about on his own to bother him with our problems.”

  “He’ll want to help us with this. You should give him that chance.”

  “I have to do this alone.” Like always. “And the first thing I’m going to do is go down to the school and tell that teacher just what I think of her. How dare she refuse them admittance? Doesn’t she know what damage she’s done?”

  Katherine raised her eyes to the heavens. “Laney, I can’t help but think it would be a mistake to go over there right now. You should calm down first. With the mood you’re in, you’ll only make matters worse.”

  “Nothing could be worse.”

  * * *

  Laney marched along Market Street angrier than before she’d entered the schoolhouse, now that she knew the full story. The schoolteacher hadn’t wanted to send the children away. She’d only been carrying out Prescott’s orders. And since the shifty banker owned the school’s building and paid the bulk of the teacher’s salary, the woman hadn’t had much choice in the matter.

  Well, he wouldn’t get away with this.

  Before she lost hold of the outrage propelling her forward, Laney smoothed her palms down her skirt then stepped inside the bank. No matter what happened, she wouldn’t leave until Prescott had made restitution for this unforgivable offense.

  Her steps slowed as she reminded herself to pay off the interest on her loan before tearing into the banker. She had the bulk of the money on her, had thought to plan ahead despite her blinding anger when she’d left Charity House this morning.

  The children, she reminded herself. Remember their faces when they’d arrived home from the school.

  The reminder was enough to give her the courage she needed to confront Prescott.

  The children deserved an education, without the banker’s nasty interference.

  She gave the clerk her name and waited. Like all the other times she’d come to this bank, Prescott didn’t keep her wrestling in her anticipation for long. She might have thought that odd, if she didn’t have so much else on her mind.

  “Miss O’Connor, what a surprise.” The lie slid smoothly from smirking lips.

  Hiding her dislike behind her own smile, she allowed him to lead the way to his office. As she watched him jut out his chest, Laney was reminded of that crazy rooster in the Montana mining camp that used to swagger around the streets, crowing all day long. A train had hit the stupid bird. She wondered if there would be a train passing through the bank anytime soon.

  Once inside the office, Prescott wasted no time getting to the point. Without offering her a seat, he asked, “What can I do for you this fine morning?”

  Squaring her shoulders, she held his gaze. “You know why I’m here.”

  His expression drew into a blank. “I can think of several reasons.”

  Forgetting all about her resolution to pay off her loan first, she laid into him. “Let’s not continue the pretense, Prescott. You had my children banished from the local school.”

  “Come to beg for their readmittance?

  “No.”

  “Ah.” He scratched his beard. “Then you must be here to talk about your loan. But you’re a few days too late, aren’t you? Your benefactor already paid your outstanding balance.”

  “My benefactor?” What was Prescott talking about?

  “Marc Dupree. He paid off the remaining interest on your loan days ago.”

  She stared at him, her heart pounding in her ears. Had she just heard him correctly? “When, exactly, did he come to you?”

  “Tuesday morning.”

  The day after Pearl had shown up at his hotel. Marc was trying to make restitution for the pain he’d inflicted on her in the only way he know how. With his money. A kind gesture, if completely misguided.

  “You had no right to take Marc’s money for my loan without my authorization.”

  “Marc, is it?”

  Her hand itched to slap that smug grin off Prescott’s face. “Don’t read too much into my use of his given name. I’m nothing special to the man. I’m simply his employee.”

  “No, Miss O’Connor, you are much more than his employee.” He leaned forward. “People talk, you know.”

  “People gossip.”

  “Call it what you will. But word’s out you’re his mistress.”

  Outrage had her gaping at him. “That’s a lie.”

  Flattening his hands on the desk, he leaned forward. “Tell that to his wife.”

  One sentence and Prescott made her relationship with Marc sound disgusting and sinful. Perhaps it was, on a certain level. Didn’t she love a married man? Didn’t he just pay off her loan as though she was his mistress?

  She would deal with Marc later. For now, she had another, more pressing problem standing in front of her. “I want to discuss what happened at the school this morning.”

  “Certainly. But first, this is for you.” He pulled out an official-looking document from the bottom drawer of his desk. “Marc insisted I give you this when next you came to see me.”

  Snatching up the document, she looked down and gasped. “The deed to Charity House.” In her name.

  “You win, Miss O’Connor. You officially own the house free and clear.”

  A surge of excitement whipped through her. How she wished she could just walk away now, never to return. But she couldn’t. Not yet. She had to have her say, had to stand up for the children.

  Prescott’s smirk warned her how he would respond. Because of people like him and their dirty accusations, the children had to deal with more than their share of shame.

  It was so unfair, so infuriating.

  “All right, Prescott. Now that our business is complete, I want your word that you will leave my orphanage and the children who live there alone.”

  “You know, Miss O’Connor, you can’t keep calling that place you run an orphanage. Very few of those children are truly orphans.”

  Laney bristled. She could accept the slurs about herself, but she would not listen to any more about the children. “Your word, Prescott. I want you to promise this is the end of our battle.”

  A hint of respect flashed in his eyes. “You’ve really learned your lesson.”

  “I have. Now that our association is over I will never step inside this bank again, and I ask you never attempt to undermine my efforts to create a home for the children at Charity House.”

  For a long, tense moment, he watched her through his beady eyes. The respect she’d seen earlier disappeared, only to be replaced with something that looked like pure loathing. “So this is goodbye.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I suggest you leave at once.” With his big beefy paw he shoved her toward the exit.

  She went willingly.

  Never again would she have to face Thurston P. Prescott III. Instead of feeling triumphant, instead of experiencing a wave of relief, a sense of foreboding filled her.

  Lord, why am I not more pleased?

  She knew the answer, of course. She might have the deed to Charity House tucked in her reticule. She might have learned a valuable lesson about living within her means, but she’d lost something precious in the process. She’d lost the man she loved with all her heart.

  She’d lost Marc Dupree.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Settled in his private office at the Hotel Dupree, Marc worked on his accounts. Unfortunately, the numbers ran together in his mind, one big blur of black ink and incomprehensible marks. All he could think about was Laney and the fact that she would arrive for her shift in a matter of hours.

  Although Marc wouldn’t seek her out, or try to talk to her unless absolutely necessary, at least he would know she was near, in his hotel, earning wages she no longer needed to save her orphanage.

  A smile of satisfaction spread across his lips. With a h
andful of dollars Marc had put an end to Prescott’s hold over Charity House. No doubt, Laney would have something to say about his interference. Marc would let her lecture him, silently smiling while she did so, because nothing could change the fact that the orphanage legally belonged to her. Her future was secure, as was the children’s.

  As though his thoughts could summon the woman’s very presence, Laney’s fresh lilac fragrance filled the air.

  Marc looked up from his ledger and connected gazes with the woman he loved.

  Standing in the doorway, watching him with a closed expression, Laney looked both fragile and beautiful. So delicate and yet so strong. He wanted to beg her to run away with him all over again.

  He would never dishonor her like that. Nor would he trample on the vows he’d said in front of a preacher five years ago. Still, his heart picked up speed at the sight of Laney hovering on the edge of his private domain. “Hello.”

  “Hello, Marc.” When she didn’t move deeper into the room, he narrowed his eyes and studied her more closely for clues to her mood.

  Her casual stance gave nothing away. They could be strangers for the lack of emotion in her gaze. This new distance between them was yet another consequence of Pearl’s unexpected return.

  Marc hated that he couldn’t tell Laney how precious she was to him. But if he did something that foolish, he’d profess his love to her in the next breath, and then he’d no longer be able to survive apart from her.

  But survive he would. For the sake of a vow he’d made five years ago and the honor of the woman who stood before him now.

  After another painful moment of silence, Laney jammed her hands on her hips. “I understand you recently made a bank transaction on my behalf.”

  Ah. So she’d been to the bank this afternoon. Marc should have known by the lack of warmth in her gaze. “I won’t apologize for paying off your loan.” He held up his hand to keep her from interrupting him. “And before you say anything more, I did it for the children, not you.”

  “Talk around town says otherwise.”

  He set down his quill very slowly, very deliberately. “What talk around town?”

  “The gossips are saying I’m your mistress.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples and rubbed. “Paying off my loan has only added proof to their assumptions.”

  That hadn’t been his intention.

  “It never occurred to me that my actions would put you at the center of the gossip mill.”

  “Don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t care what people say about me.” She flicked her wrist in the air as if to make her point. “I’ve heard far worse in the past.”

  Angry on her behalf, he rose quickly and crossed to her. “Nevertheless, I’m sorry.” He pulled her deeper into his office and shut the door behind them. “I wanted to help alleviate your burdens, not add to them.”

  Remaining just out of his reach, she drew in a shuddering breath. “Oh, Marc, I know you meant well. And I truly appreciate the gesture. So...thank you.”

  “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

  “I said thank you.”

  The significance of those two little words spoken so boldly made his heart soar. “You’re welcome, Laney.”

  He took a step toward her, but she warded off his approach with a shake of her head. “I have more to say.”

  “All right.”

  “Although I certainly appreciate what you’ve done for Charity House and the children, you can’t continue giving us money, not even indirectly.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because...” She blew out a slow, careful breath, as if she were formulating her argument very methodically in her mind. “The gossip could turn toward the children. They already suffer enough. I don’t want to add more strain to their lives.”

  A valid point, to be sure, but a bit shortsighted. “They would suffer far worse than a little gossip if you lose the orphanage. No, Laney, I can’t promise not to assist you if you get into trouble again.”

  “Marc, please.” Her head turned away from him. “I need you to—”

  She broke off midsentence, her gaze connecting with the cot he’d set up next to his desk. “Is that where you’re sleeping at night?”

  “The hotel is at full occupancy,” he said, as though that was enough explanation.

  He should have known better. Laney was too smart for that. “But you have your own permanent suite of rooms.”

  “Pearl is living there for now. Alone. Under the circumstances, I find this an acceptable arrangement.”

  “Acceptable, maybe.” She turned to face him again, her eyes softening. “But surely not comfortable.”

  “Are you worried about me, Laney?” He rather liked the idea.

  “Of course I’m worried about you.” The longing in her eyes cut him to the core, made him wonder what his life would have been like with this woman by his side, a woman who cared enough about him to worry about something as minor as his comfort.

  He stared at her for a long while, wishing he could reach out and smooth his finger down her cheek, maybe touch her hair. Both very bad ideas, as was spending any more time with her alone in his office.

  “Let me walk you home and you can tell me how your conversation with Prescott went. And I’m warning you now, I want every detail, no matter how small.”

  She stiffened at his request.

  “Did something happen while you were in Prescott’s office? Did he threaten you? Hurt you in any way?”

  “Nothing I haven’t endured from him before.” Her bright smile was clearly forced.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  As he waited for her to explain, he linked his hands behind his back, to prevent himself from pulling her into his arms and smoothing away that look of sadness on her face. In the ensuing silence, he thought of the woman who stood between them.

  Pearl. Her addictions were worse than he first thought. Since her return, he couldn’t remember a moment when his wife had been fully lucid.

  He wanted to share his worries with Laney, ask her how it had been with her mother, but he could see she had her own concerns. For an instant, he broke his first and only rule—never touch Laney—and bent down to take her hands in his. “I want to help you. But I can’t if you don’t tell me what’s occurred.”

  “Oh, Marc, it’s the children,” she said. “They were banned from school today. They were so upset. I went straight down to that school to tell the teacher just what I thought of her banning innocent children from the classroom.”

  Noble, to be sure. But he’d seen Laney when she was all worked up. She could have easily made matters worse if she’d gone over to the school in a furious state of mind. “You think that was a good idea, charging over there like that?”

  “Maybe not. But I was so furious.” She threw her hands in the air and stomped through the room in big, angry strides. “How dare she, I thought. What gave her the right to judge my precious children?”

  “Slow down.” Marc reached out and grasped her arm. “You’re making me dizzy.”

  She pushed away from him and went back to pacing, or rather stomping. “It wasn’t even her fault and I’m still angry just thinking about this morning.”

  “I see that.”

  “Did I tell you Prescott was behind their banishment?”

  That was new information, the kind that had Marc’s temper rising right along with Laney’s. “You saw him at the school?”

  She shook her head. “No, but it turns out he’s the main patron of the school. How dare he misuse his authority like that?” She spun in a circle. “The man is an awful, horrible human being.”

  Marc couldn’t agree more. So he focused on soothing Laney’s outrage. Something about her behavior made him sense this was more than a fight about a school refusing the children. This was also Laney’s personal battle against all the humiliation she’d endured as the daughter of a prostitute.

  For the first time Marc caught a glimpse of what Laney must have brave
d as a child. She’d spent her life as an outcast. And now the children of Charity House suffered a similar stigma because of the same unfortunate circumstances of their birth.

  “I can help you find another school for them to attend.”

  “I can’t ask the children to go through that humiliation again.”

  “Then tell me what I can do. Say the word and I’ll make it happen.”

  “I don’t have any concrete answers yet.” She buried her fingers in the fabric of her skirt. “I have some ideas, but I need to do some more thinking before I commit to any of them.”

  Willing his hands to stay by his side, Marc stared hard at her, scrutinizing every feature on her face, trying to decipher the words she wasn’t saying. “You aren’t planning to do anything drastic are you?”

  She shifted a vacant stare to a spot just over his shoulder. “Of course not.”

  A loud knock came from the other side of the door. Marc ignored it. “I want you to come to me before you make any firm decisions about the children’s schooling.”

  “I—” The knocking came again, louder and more incessant. “Don’t you think you should answer that?”

  “Not until you agree to let me be a part of the solution to this problem of yours.”

  A slurred, high-pitched voice accompanied the next round of knocks. “Marc, are you in there?”

  Pearl. Laney jumped back, shame and guilt evident in her features.

  “Don’t, Laney. Don’t look like that. We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Marc Allen Dupree. I know you’re in there. I can hear you talking to someone. Who’s in there with you?”

  The door flew open and Pearl stumbled forward, heading face first for the floor. Moving quickly, Marc caught her before she fell all the way.

  He barely had time to catch his balance before Laney rushed passed him and out of his office. With his arms full of an incoherent, spitting-mad wife, he had no other choice than to let her go.

  * * *

  The rest of the evening brought a new form of torture. Sitting in a chair facing the bed in his room, Marc dragged a wet cloth across Pearl’s feverish forehead, wondering why she did this to herself. This was the second time in so many days that she’d taken too much laudanum.