by Lower, Becky
“You don’t think it will be too much of a distraction for you? After all, the time you are spending to get the shop going could be time better spent with Alistair.”
Jasmine laughed. “He might be aristocratic, but he is not part of the idle rich, Mother. It takes a lot of time to get his horses ready to race, and to oversee the building of the racetrack. In fact, he told me at the end of last evening, he would have enjoyed the offered nightcap at our house, but he and Parr were getting up at dawn to work with a horse.”
“So when are you to see each other next?”
“Colleen will take me out to the ranch the day after tomorrow and Alistair and I will go for a ride before I come back to town and open the shop. Would it be all right if I steal the big worktable from the nursery to use? No one’s been in the nursery lately.”
Charlotte reached across the table and took her daughter’s hand. “Of course, dear, you can take whatever you need from the house. But I’m counting on you to not lose sight of your primary objective. You need to get Alistair to fall to one knee within a month, and fill my nursery with grandbabies.”
Jasmine’s color rose as Charlotte made known her desires for her daughter. Charlotte caught the movement as Jasmine squirmed in her seat, and patted her hand. “Am I making you uncomfortable? Of all people, you know what is expected of a woman once she weds, do you not?”
Jasmine dropped her gaze to the tablecloth. “Well, I do like to flirt with men, true. I’m certainly no stranger to gaining a man’s attention. But how do you know if the man is right for you? When Papa kisses you, do you feel a current between you, or is it merely pleasant?”
Charlotte removed her hand from Jasmine’s and placed it on her chest. “Your father is still able to make my heart flutter, indeed. Ours has been a love match since the day we met. But other relationships begin slowly and build over time. Has Alistair kissed you yet?”
Again, Jasmine’s cheeks filled with color. “He has not even made an attempt, despite my coquetry.”
“Well, see how things are after he does. But remember, above all else, the man has a title. That should be enough to create a spark between you.”
“True enough, Mother. But I think perhaps maybe playing a little hard to get is in order, too. After all, I’ve been eagerly accepting every offer he’s made to spend time with me. Perhaps I should not be so eager?”
Charlotte picked up her teacup and took a swallow of the now-tepid liquid. She then set the cup down and blotted her lips with her napkin. “That’s not a bad idea, Jasmine. I think you should show up as scheduled for your ride, but tell him you must leave before he gets too cozy. Yes, it’s a good plan. You should leave him wanting more of you.”
Clapping her hands together, Charlotte stood up. “We have our work cut out for us. Let’s finish up with your shopping now, so we can focus on Alistair Wickersham.”
• • •
Jasmine and her mother spent the better part of the afternoon completing the purchases from the list. They had bought yards of lace, tulle, fringe in all colors, beads and seed pearls, silk rosettes, and ribbon — so much ribbon. They methodically ticked items off the extensive list that Charlotte carried.
But beyond the shopping there was an excitement in the air in the warehouse district that Jasmine had not encountered before. Strange sounds and the voices of many nationalities rang out over the cobblestones. She found it exhilarating, and dreamily began to plan for a return trip to restock her supplies.
“For the love of God, man, watch what you’ll be doin’,” a man’s Irish brogue knifed its way into her consciousness.
“Parr!” she whispered as she glanced around, looking for him. She spied a man of about the same stature as Parr, with black hair, across the street from their parked carriage. He and another man were carrying a large wooden box to an open cart. They tossed the box onto the cart and the man turned around, wiping off his hands.
It wasn’t Parr, but rather a much older man. And as Irish as the day was long, from the sounds of him. Jasmine listened to his thick brogue for a few more seconds, with a smile on her face. Then she rubbed a hand over her chest and turned away.
“What is it, dearie?” Charlotte glanced at her daughter as they settled themselves into the carriage. “Your face just lost all its color.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, Mother,” Jasmine replied as she sat back against the squabs of the cushioned seat back. “Just a long day, that’s all.”
“I should say so.” Charlotte squeezed herself into the seat opposite Jasmine. “With all these packages, there’s barely enough room for the two of us. But it has been fun, hasn’t it?” She reached across the carriage to take Jasmine’s hand in her own. “It was not my decision to deny you new gowns this year, but your father was adamant. I miss our shopping excursions as much as you do. Today reminded me of those fun times we had together a year ago, getting you and Heather ready for the season.”
“I miss them too, Mother. But if Papa hadn’t put his foot down, I’m certain I never would have given a thought to opening my own shop and designing dresses for anyone other than myself. So, in a way, I’m glad we’re going through a rough time, financially. Plus, he never would have considered a partner outside the family if things were going well, so we might never have met Alistair.”
Charlotte sighed. “Yes, I guess that’s all true. Life was certainly simpler a few years ago.”
“But it’s so much more exciting now, don’t you think?”
“In a way. We’re rubbing elbows with English aristocracy at every turn, there’s going to be a new racetrack soon that will be upscale enough to appeal to our crowd, and my daughter will soon be a viscountess. Yes, you’re right. Life is much more exciting than it used to be.”
The jolt of sensation that shot through her body when she heard the brogue in the warehouse district came back to her. Yes, life was more exciting now. It was just the wrong man who incited her.
Chapter Fifteen
Jasmine and Colleen worked side by side the following day, taking all the purchases from the warehouse and assembling them into some kind of order in their half of Blake Morgan’s shop. Finally, Jasmine admitted the store was ready for business, and reluctantly began the walk home, not wanting to let go of the glow of the day.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts before she turned to her companion. “I’m sorry, Colleen. I was just thinking about how pleasant today has been. What did you ask?”
“I wanted to know how we’re to plan tomorrow. You have a ride scheduled with Mr. Wickersham in the morning, but we have to be back at the shop for its grand opening. How will that work?”
“It will be fine. We’ll just take a short ride. Long enough for him to notice my newly embellished riding attire, but not so long that he’ll be tempted to try to get me out of it.”
“He wouldn’t try anything untoward, would he? After all, I’ll be accompanying you. And he is a gentleman.”
Jasmine glanced at Colleen. “Shall I add protector of my virtue to your list, then? You’re already my lady’s maid, seamstress, and partner in my business.”
“Ach, I’ve been your protector for two years now, lass. Starting with Monsieur Louboutin last year.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “That silly man. I can’t believe he tried to take advantage of me.”
“Maybe he sensed that you needed to set yourself apart from Miss Heather in some way. ’Tis almost a pity that his idea backfired. His reputation has suffered mightily because of it.”
A smile played on Jasmine’s lips. “And his reputation will suffer again, since he can only produce one style of boot. He took advantage of me yet a second time with that maneuver. Soon enough, he’ll be packed back to France.”
Colleen grabbed Jasmine’s hand and laughed along with her. “That bloody bastard should know better than to mess
with two lasses such as us, eh?”
Jasmine’s thoughts turned sober as Parr popped into her head again. The boots were a collaborative effort between him and her, and every time she thought of how Philippe had stolen their idea, it incensed her even more. Not just for herself, but also for Parr. Or maybe that was just her excuse to think of him again.
Her footsteps filled the air with a staccato rhythm as her agitation rose. She should not be thinking of Parr at all. Hadn’t she told him she hated him? She needed to focus on Alistair. After all, one week was already gone. She had made some strides in their relationship, but she sensed he wasn’t all that enthralled with her yet. Well, that would end tomorrow, when she would take advantage of the opportunity to be alone with him.
• • •
Jasmine eagerly raked her eyes over the stable grounds, searching for Parr. She wanted to tell him of her new business, since he had been the first to believe in her. She noticed three horses already saddled and hitched up to the paddock fence. But Parr was nowhere in sight. She tamped down her disappointment. Ah well, she reminded herself, Parr wasn’t the reason she was here anyway. Alistair, in all his titled glory, was the man of her dreams. But, truth be told, her nightly dreams were always about a slight man with black hair and blue eyes. Alistair was tall, with light brown hair and pale blue eyes. As she alighted from the carriage, she straightened out her riding habit. Light brown hair would be just fine by her.
Alistair came out of the stable to greet them when he caught the sound of the carriage pulling up. Jasmine smiled at him as she moved forward to give him her hand. He leaned over and kissed her glove.
“It’s so good to see you this fair morning. I’m glad the weather has cooperated for our outing. But I want you to see how much Blaze has grown this week before we get going.” He told one of the stable hands to unharness the horse from the carriage and place him in the paddock. Then he began to tug on Jasmine’s hand, pulling her into the stable.
With a knot of trepidation in her stomach, she moved with him toward the stall where the mare and her colt were housed. The stall where Parr had kissed her senseless. Her breath left her as she recalled stumbling around the stall, locked in a fierce and passionate embrace with him. Her cheeks pinked as she remembered slapping him. Right before she grabbed him and pulled him to her, begging for more. She had done a lot of flirting in the past few years, but she had never lost control of herself in such a manner before.
The rush of damp between her legs snapped her from her reverie. She glanced at Alistair, to see if he noticed anything amiss in her behavior, but his eyes were locked on the colt. She took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting barn smells of hay, horses, and polished leather before she turned to the baby, too. He was nuzzling against his mother, nursing, and the picture in the stall was one of complete serenity. Not at all the tempestuous one that had been running through her mind.
“My, he has grown, hasn’t he?” She reached out and rubbed the colt between his ears.
“He’s spectacular. And with Parr in charge of his training, he’ll be a great racehorse.”
“Speaking of Parr, where is he this morning?”
“He’s gone over to where the racetrack is being built. The track has been leveled off, and before we plant it with grass, he wanted to take Grey on a trial run.”
“Can we go and watch them? I’ve never seen Grey race before.”
“We could, but if you have to return by eleven, we have only an hour to ride. Wouldn’t you rather spend what little time you’re giving me today with just me?”
Jasmine chewed on her bottom lip. What she really wanted was to see Parr, to gauge her reaction to him. Since the night in the barn, six long days ago now, she hadn’t seen him at all. And, it seemed, he was none too eager to change that fact. Well, no matter, she told herself. She’d best remember why she was here. She had only two more weeks to solidify her relationship with Alistair. That was the only way to become titled.
She gave Alistair a bright smile. “You are right, Mr. Wickersham. I’m looking forward to the two of us getting to know each other better.”
“Here, let me help you up. Parr outfitted your horse with the saddle you prefer, so it’s all ready for you.”
Jasmine thought of Parr, placing the saddle on her horse and adjusting the stirrups to the proper length for her. He knows me all too well. She sighed softly as she settled into the stirrups. Now it’s time for Alistair to get to know me every bit as well. With a smile, she turned to him as she caught his gaze running down her body, assessing her.
“You look lovely today, Miss Fitzpatrick. Burgundy is a good color on you.”
“Why, thank you, Mr. Wickersham. I’m pleased you approve of my choice. Colleen and I worked on it all evening, to get a good fit.” She ran her hand down her outfit. When Alistair’s eyes followed the movement of her hand, she hesitated a moment at her swell of bosom before she continued moving her hand down to her hips. She may not be as lush and curvy as Lydia Smith, but she had youth on her side. Her bosom was high and taut and her hips nicely rounded. She’d draw attention to herself at every opportunity today.
They left the paddock area, Jasmine and Alistair side by side, with Colleen following discretely behind.
• • •
Parr followed the movement of the small group as they headed out to the hills from his vantage point in the fields where the racetrack was being laid out. His heart ached as Jasmine and Alistair rode off side by side. Colleen was with them, so Parr had no fear that something indiscreet would happen, but nonetheless, their possible liaison worried him.
What would he do if Alistair changed his perception of Jasmine and decided she was the woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with? Could Parr live with that? Knowing that every night, when he lay down on his cot in the stable, she and Alistair were sleeping side by side, and having intimate relations with each other, only a few hundred yards away? Alistair would be the one to make her eyes fill with lust. He would be the one to bring her lovely breasts to life, budding in excitement at his touch. Parr’s eyes clouded as Colleen glanced over her shoulder, caught him staring at them, and waved at him. He tipped his cap in her direction before they disappeared from sight.
He ran his hands over his cap again. It was the one Jasmine had presented him with, right before the world tilted on its axis with their kisses. The grey tweed was the finest material he had ever known, and despite the fact their relationship would never progress beyond where they had been, he would treasure this cap until the day he died.
Because of what Alistair had done for him, he could not stand in the way of any relationship he was forming with Jasmine. All Parr could do was to watch him ride off into the woods. And worry. And possibly take to drink. Yes, drinking enough pints of a good hearty ale so his back teeth floated might lessen the ache in his heart. But he doubted it.
Chapter Sixteen
Jasmine was eager to share the news about her upcoming opening day at the shop with Alistair. He was a businessman, after all, and would appreciate her success. And maybe, just maybe, he’d think she was every bit as stimulating a conversationalist as her nemesis, Lydia Smith.
But when she began to discuss the trims and goods she and her mother bought on their outing, she sensed she was losing his interest. When he outright yawned in the middle of her story, she decided to change tactics.
“I took orders for five pairs of riding boots already, even before we open, so I’m keeping the young cobbler Colleen found for us quite busy.”
Alistair’s gaze left the landscape and his eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “Are these the same boots that Parr helped you with?”
“Not the exact pair. But all my boot designs have the functionality in them that Parr pointed out as necessary. So, in a large way, he’s had input into all my creations.”
“Well, if I m
ight speak on his behalf then, may I suggest you and he become partners in the design of the boots. He’s partly responsible for their success, and should be rewarded for it.”
Jasmine shifted in her saddle. She had been thinking along the same lines, but judging from Parr’s avoidance of the party this morning, he obviously wanted nothing more to do with her. Nor she with him, she reminded herself. What she wanted was Alistair, who was next to her. Why was she even allowing Parr to intrude on her thoughts?
“Why are you so solicitous of Parr?” She flipped her hair back from her shoulder in a quick, angry motion. “You’ve already told me that you’re partners with him, which I fail to understand. I’ve been trying to figure out your motives with him. He’s just a stable boy. Yet you treat him as an equal. I don’t get it.”
Alistair stopped his horse. Jasmine had no choice but to do the same, and circle back to him. She had made him angry, she could tell. Well, he had made her angry, with his talk of Parr. Not exactly the emotion she had wanted to stir up during this ride.
“Let me get one thing straight with you, Miss Fitzpatrick. Parr is the most talented horse trainer I’ve ever seen. His reputation in Ireland was above reproach, and a lot of men were trying to get him to work for them. I needed to offer him a sweet deal that he could not possibly refuse. And then there’s his horse, which he wouldn’t part with for any amount of money. He may have come from humble beginnings, but that’s behind him. He’s an equal partner in our business here. I have the money, he has the talent. One without the other just won’t work. So I hope that satisfies your curiosity about him.”
“I apologize, Mr. Wickersham, for speaking out of turn. I should have known you have your reasons for bringing him to America with you, and for making him a partner. It was not my intent to anger you. As you said, I was merely curious. I have given some thought to having him share in the spoils of the boot orders, but I’ve been hesitant to speak to him about it, since we had some words a week ago.”