Howard Haskell Takes A Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch Book 0)

by Merry Farmer

  Cyrus laughed. “Heaven help the villains that cross you, Ginny.”

  She shared his laughter, patting Cyrus’s cheek.

  Howard grinned at the antics of his sister and his best friend, but there was another love affair that demanded his attention right then—his.

  The moment they slipped through the open doors and past the billowing curtains, Howard searched for Elizabeth. It was her house, so she had to be there somewhere, but he had an uncomfortable feeling that she was being kept prisoner. He’d looked for her out and about in town for the last few days, but hadn’t seen so much as a trace. Her three friends had been enjoying themselves along the riverfront just yesterday, and at a popular teashop the day before, but not Elizabeth. It didn’t bode well, especially since he knew he was the likely cause of any punishment being meted out.

  “Excuse me, did you just come through the window?”

  Howard spun to face the irate question of an older woman with a lorgnette held to her eyes. She reminded him too much of his peevish Aunt Mildred. That didn’t mean a smile wouldn’t win her over, though.

  “Howard Haskell, at your service, my dear lady.” He bowed low, reaching for the woman’s hand and kissing it as though she were a queen.

  “Oh!” The old woman trembled like she had been accosted by a street urchin.

  A moment later, a stocky man in a waistcoat that was straining at the buttons intervened with, “What the devil are you doing, sir?”

  Unperturbed, Howard straightened and turned to nod at the man. “Why, I was simply greeting this esteemed lady in a manner fitting her beauty.”

  “Oh,” the old woman repeated, only this time with more of an air of flattery than offense.

  “I don’t know you, sir.” The stocky gentleman puffed himself up. “So I would appreciate it if you would keep your hands off my mother.”

  “And what about you, my love?” Howard winked at the old woman. “Do you wish for a handsome and devilish young man to keep his hands off of you?”

  The old woman burst into a flurry of girlish giggles, the likes of which she probably hadn’t seen in sixty years.

  “Howard.” Virginia sighed and rolled her eyes. “Do behave.”

  “I am behaving, Ginny. Behaving abominably.”

  The old woman continued to laugh, raising a hand to her chest. Her son snorted and shook his head, then steered his mother away.

  It was just as well, Howard was still on a mission. “I don’t see her. We’ll have to move deeper into the house.”

  “With all the aplomb as if we’d been invited,” Cyrus finished his thought.

  Howard nodded, put on his most charming smile, and began to move through the grand salon. More than a few of the Ayers’s guests stared at them, making faces and whispering behind their hands as they did.

  “Looks like this is a close gathering,” Virginia muttered, only a few inches behind her brother. “It seems as though everyone knows everyone else on the guest list.”

  “And can tell who isn’t invited,” Cyrus added.

  “A minor detail that can quickly be remedied.” Howard followed his statement with a low chuckle, then turned to a pair of middle-aged men conversing in the center of the room. “Ah, Mr. Locke, Mr. Wilson. How good to see you outside of a financial office.”

  The two men frowned at having their conversation interrupted. Locke’s scowl deepened as he faced the intrusion, but Wilson’s eyes flashed with recognition before his expression clouded to neutrality.

  “I was given to understand this was a private function,” Locke said.

  “And so it is.” Howard smiled. “Very private,” he added in a whisper, then raised his voice again to say, “Howard Haskell, at your service.” He extended a hand.

  Locke only stared at it. “Do I know you?”

  “If not, you will want to very shortly.” Howard’s smile grew. He kept his hand outstretched, even though no one took it.

  “He is an investor,” Wilson said, so low that it was difficult to hear him over the din of the gathering.

  “A what?” Locke turned to his friend.

  Wilson studied Howard with a sly glance—peeking past him to take in Virginia and Cyrus—then leaned toward Locke. “I’ve never met him, but I’ve heard about him. Howard Haskell. Young, brash, ridiculous in some ways.”

  Howard tucked his thumbs into his vest pockets and stood straighter, as though receiving praise instead of being whispered about behind his back…in front of his face.

  “He’s a financial wunderkind,” Wilson went on. “Rumor has it that every endeavor he touches turns to gold.”

  “Oh?” This time when Locke turned to him, it was with a curious smile.

  It was just Locke’s luck that Elizabeth walked into the room and made her way to a large, unlit fireplace that had been filled with an outlandish floral decoration.

  “Excuse me,” Howard said, not looking at Locke or Wilson, and marched off.

  He made a bee-line straight through chatting guests and servants carrying trays of refreshments to reach her, Virginia and Cyrus struggling to keep up.

  “My darling, there you are,” he announced in a voice so loud Elizabeth’s eyes popped wide as he drew near.

  Those wide eyes of her filled with joy. She took a large step toward him, reaching to take his hands. “Oh, Howard. I knew you’d find a way to see me.”

  “Of course, my dear heart. There is no impediment to true love.” Logic dictated that he keep his voice down and converse with Elizabeth in whispers and sighs, but his plan to win her required stouter stuff than that. He lifted her gloved hand to his lips and kissed it with a passion that would send ladies fainting and men into a rage.

  Which was exactly what he wanted.

  “Howard, you shouldn’t.” Elizabeth tugged her hand away. She darted a glance around the room, as if waiting for the Spanish Inquisition to leap up from the woodwork and carry her away to be burned at the stake. “If my mother and father see you here, they’ll…I don’t know what they’ll do, but it will be drastic.”

  “Let them come,” Howard said, at full voice. “I do not fear them. I do not fear anyone.” He squared his shoulders and sent a dramatic glare around to those watching them. Inside, he wanted to laugh. He should have had a life on the stage.

  Elizabeth both laughed and turned pale at his antics. Her eyes danced with enjoyment, even as her shoulders shrunk with worry. “Oh, Howard, it was awful the other day.” She stepped closer, gripping his hand in desperation. “Jonas was positively ghastly to me. I refuse to marry him. But Papa and Mama call my determination rebellion, and they are determined to quell it. Whatever can we do?”

  Howard closed his right hand over hers as it gripped his left. “We can do quite a great deal, my love. We can do anything, as long as we do it together.”

  “Oh, Howard.” She blinked fast, as though she might cry. “Come, let us run now. I don’t need clothes or keepsakes or anything. I only need you.” She started to tug him toward the door.

  Howard kept his feet firmly planted, coaxing her gently back to the shelter of his side. All around them, people were watching and whispering. Virginia looked as though she might be sick under the weight of the stares, and even Cyrus was tugging at his collar. More than a few guests were staring through the salon’s high, arched doorway into the hall. Knowing what that must mean, Howard stood straighter, cleared his throat, and prepared for battle.

  He didn’t have to wait long. As if reading their cues from a script, Mr. and Mrs. Ayers blustered into the room, Jonas Armstrong not more than a step or two behind them. Just as planned.

  “You!” Mr. Ayer’s invective flew across the room as though someone had hurled a vase and smashed it into a thousand pieces.

  All conversation stopped, and guests rushed to the side to allow the Ayerses and Jonas to sweep through. The three of them marched up to Howard and Elizabeth and attempted to tower over them.

  No one towered over Howard Haskell.

&nbs
p; “Mr. and Mrs. Ayers.” Howard smiled, bowing regally. “What a beautiful home you have. Such a delightful gathering.”

  “Silence!” Mr. Ayers thundered. “You were not invited. You will leave at once.”

  Howard barely blinked. “How could a man fail to invite his future son-in-law to an intimate evening such as this?”

  “I’ve had enough of your slander,” Jonas butted in. He reached for Elizabeth. “Come on. Enough of this.”

  Elizabeth leapt away from his hand, hiding behind Howard. Howard stretched his arms out to protect her. The mischief in his expression flashed to steely anger.

  “You will not touch my fiancée, sir,” he snapped at Jonas.

  “She’s my fiancée, not yours,” Jonas snarled in return.

  “I believe the lady should be the judge of that.”

  “And I believe her father should be the judge,” Mr. Ayers said with ice in his voice. “Leave at once.”

  “I have no intention of—”

  Before Howard could finish his speech or regain his smile, Jonas made another grab for Elizabeth. This time, Elizabeth wasn’t fast enough. Jonas clamped down on her wrist and jerked her to the side so hard that she cried out in pain.

  Howard saw red. He whipped around, fist raised to pummel Jonas into the ground. Several ladies watching screamed. Jonas dropped Elizabeth’s wrist and staggered back, turning a sickly pale.

  “If you ever lay a hand on her again,” Howard growled, “So help me God, I will rip your hand off and shove it so far up your ass that you’ll wave from your mouth.”

  Another round of gasps filled the silence of the salon, along with one snorting laugh. That likely came from Virginia, but Howard’s rage burned too hot for him to check.

  “Out,” Mr. Ayers seethed, only this time, instead of simply demanding Howard go, he marched forward, pushing Howard and Elizabeth, Jonas, Virginia and Cyrus out with him, and dragging Mrs. Ayers behind.

  Again, the guests parted to allow the group of them to make their way through the salon and out the French doors to the gardens. Several torches and braziers had been lit around the garden to give light to any guests who wanted to wander away from the heat and crush of the house. They provided plenty of light to see the fury in Mr. Ayers face as he pushed the group to a halt at the far end of the garden.

  “If you ever lay a hand on my daughter again, I will see to it that your reputation suffers an irreparable blow,” he said.

  Howard opened his mouth to reply before realizing that Mr. Ayers was, in fact, addressing Jonas. He snapped his mouth shut and grinned. So the man had some humanity after all.

  “She was being brazen and impulsive,” Jonas argued.

  “And what is so wrong with a woman being brazen and impulsive?” Elizabeth argued.

  A sudden burst of pride filled Howard’s chest. His Elizabeth was a fiery one under her dignified exterior.

  “Hold your tongue.” Her mother silenced her, but without enthusiasm.

  It was too early to gloat, however. Mr. Ayers whipped to face Howard, narrowing his eyes.

  “You have disgraced my family and my house,” he declared. “Give me one good reason why I should not summon he authorities and have you arrested for trespassing and public menace right now.”

  Elizabeth gasped, pressing a hand to her heart. Virginia stepped subtly to her side, slipping an arm around her shoulder in comfort.

  “Because, sir,” Howard replied with every ounce of dignity he could muster. “I love your daughter.”

  Mr. Ayers sniffed, suspicious. “You barely know my daughter. You saw her at a ball less than a week ago and stole a dance.”

  “Ah, true.” Howard smiled, confidence unshakable. “But then, a thousand years would not be long enough to truly know love once it breathes first life into your heart, and the quickest flash of a second is long enough to give your heart over once it knows what it wants.”

  Mrs. Ayers dropped her shoulders in surprise, her expression softening.

  “I knew that Elizabeth was the light of my life and the true north of my compass the instant I saw her,” Howard went on. “What use could there possibly be in waiting before declaring myself? Fortune favors the bold, and love grows more beautiful with those who embrace it fully.”

  “Oh, Howard,” Elizabeth sighed. “I love you. I do!”

  Jonas growled, but when he tried to step closer to Elizabeth, Mr. Ayers held up his hand.

  “You still haven’t given me a reason not to call the authorities,” Mr. Ayers told Howard.

  Howard frowned. Clever words and heartfelt sentiment weren’t going to win Elizabeth’s father. He was a shrewd man, a businessman. But as they had just seen, he wasn’t entirely heartless. His challenge to come up with a reason not to call the authorities smacked of a chance to prove that he would be the more worthy son-in-law.

  Howard took that chance.

  “I propose a solution to this impasse.” He tucked his thumbs into his vest pockets, rocked back on his heels, and grinned with perfect calm.

  “What?” Mr. Ayers snapped, though his eyes held the spark of curiosity.

  “I challenge Mr. Armstrong here to a competition.”

  “I’m not going to fight him,” Jonas spat out. There was too much fear in his rejection.

  “I did not say a fight, I said a competition.” Howard remained calm, smiling as though they were in the garden having tea instead of battling for the hand of the fairest maiden in the land.

  “A competition?” Mr. Ayers sneered, but Howard could see he was intrigued.

  “Of course.” Howard grinned. “Every conflict can be solved in the age-old manner of competition. The Ancient Greeks had their games, medieval warlords had their jousts and tournaments. Even the heathens of the Dark Ages solved their disputes with trial by combat. Competition is the only way to ensure that the strongest, most clever man emerges victorious.”

  “Are you proposing that beating each other to pulps will decide who is the more gentlemanly of the two of us?” Jonas balked.

  “No, sir.” Howard send him a condescending smile. “I am suggesting that through competition, we can decide who of the two of us would make the better husband for the peerless Elizabeth.”

  “What?” Mrs. Ayers gasped.

  “Oh, here we go again,” Virginia sighed.

  “Explain yourself.” Mr. Ayers crossed his arms.

  In his element, Howard adjusted his stance and squared his shoulders. “I propose a competition, a test of strength, endurance, and mettle, between myself and Mr. Armstrong here. The winner, the man who proves himself most worthy, will be granted the prize of Miss Elizabeth’s hand in marriage.”

  “My hand?” Elizabeth’s glance fluttered anxiously between Howard and Jonas.

  Howard did his best to silently reassure her that there was no possible way he could lose any competition against Jonas Armstrong.

  “What sort of feats did you have in mind for this competition?” Mr. Ayers asked.

  Howard grinned from ear to ear. Mr. Ayers was entertaining the idea, which meant that he would be easy to persuade. And that meant that the competition would take place, Howard would win, and Elizabeth would be his with her parents’ blessing.

  “Why, in the manner of those Ancient Greeks, it should be a contest of strength and endurance,” Howard began. “I propose a race.”

  “A race?” Jonas straightened from the sulking hunch he’d dropped into. “What kind of race?”

  Howard shrugged. “Running, swimming, riding, any of it.”

  “All of it.” Jonas broke into a cunning grin. He must have thought he had a chance.

  “Howard.” Elizabeth’s anxious whisper turned Howard’s head. Her eyes were wide, her face milk-white in the moonlight. She shook her head. Evidently, she thought he had a chance too.

  Howard winked to reassure her. “What do you say?” he asked both Jonas and Mr. Ayers.

  Mr. Ayers rubbed his chin, the lines in his face deep as he mulled the idea
over. “Running,” he said at last. “Followed by swimming, followed by a steeplechase on horseback.”

  “Carl.” Mrs. Ayers put a hand on her husband’s arm, brow creased in worry. “That is hardly a fair competition. You know that Jonas is—”

  “It was his idea,” Jonas cut her off before Mrs. Ayers could reveal more.

  Howard didn’t need her to reveal anything. He could piece the truth together as well as anyone. But however athletic Jonas Armstrong was, he utterly underestimated Howard.

  “I welcome any challenge,” Howard answered, feigning ignorance of Jonas’s implied skills. His confidence wasn’t the least bit feigned, though. “You set the date and location, and I will be there.”

  “And you will absolutely agree to leave Elizabeth alone and depart from Cincinnati forever when you lose?” Jonas sneered.

  “I will do you one better.” Howard smiled at him. “Whether I win or lose, I will leave Cincinnati forever.”

  Jonas blinked in confusion. “But—”

  “I will leave either way,” Howard confirmed, “but if I win, I leave with Elizabeth.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said. She still appeared anxious, though. There was no way to convince her how fool-proof this plan of his was in present company, but he would find a way.

  “Thursday,” Mr. Ayers said. “The race will start at the grove where Mill Creek meets the Whitewater Canal. You’ll race from the woods to Mill Creek Road, dive from the bridge to swim up creek, then emerge at Coleman’s estate, where you will ride across town to Mt. Auburn.”

  “Agreed,” Howard answered with a nod.

  “Agreed,” Jonas echoed, his grin sly. “I’ll even shake this blackguard’s hand to seal the deal.”

  Without hesitation, Howard held out his hand. Jonas took it and squeezed in a grip calculated to impress. Howard squeezed right back, wiping the smirk from Jonas’s lips. He let go at last, giving the man something to think about.

  “And now, seeing as my sister, my friend, and I were not invited to this sparkling display of hospitality, we’ll go.” Howard bowed graciously to Mrs. Ayers and nodded with respect to Mr. Ayers. He sent Jonas a warning look before turning, gesturing to Virginia and Cyrus, and starting off.