Alma entered with a platter of asparagus in butter and warm bread fresh from the oven. The conversation around the table grew heated as the members of the dinner party debated the best strategies for dealing with the secessionist south.
After enjoying a dessert of bread pudding, the ladies adjourned to the parlor and the men went outside to smoke their cigars and enjoy their whiskey.
Mrs. Blakely sipped her tea, while Prudence enjoyed an aromatic cup of coffee. She had to hand it to Alma, the woman could cook. Every bit of the meal seemed like nectar of the Gods to Prudence’s palate. She was amazed how a simple chicken baked with some herbs could be so delicious and her coffee was strong, but not bitter.
“Do you intend to remarry?”
Prudence froze, her cup nearly to her mouth. She worked to control her temper, which was making her see red. It wasn’t any of their business whether she ever intended to be a wife again.
But, she’d spent too many years dodging the scornful remarks of her mother-in-law to fall prey to these harpies. From the way Henrietta had hung on every word the professor had uttered at dinner, she had a suspicion the younger Blakely female had set her sights on Gerritt as potential husband material. That would explain both women’s belligerent attitude.
She couldn’t fault Henrietta’s taste in men. He was intelligent, handsome, charming…and apparently quite wealthy. He’d be a catch anywhere, but in a small mining town that probably held few marriage prospects for a genteel young lady, he’d be a likely candidate. Prudence had to admit, Henrietta’s smooth pale skin and golden hair would be an elegant match to the professor’s dark good looks.
She swallowed the nasty tang of jealousy.
“I haven’t thought much about remarrying,” she replied, bringing the cup to her lips to buy a bit more time. Silence descended on the small group as she sipped her coffee.
“I’ve been busy attending the business college and then arranging for the trip out here. To be honest, I’m more interested in establishing a career than finding a husband.”
“A career?” sniped Mrs. Blakely. “I can’t imagine any woman wanting to find work outside of the home.” She leaned toward her daughter. “I want Henrietta to settle down with a good man, create a perfect home for him and raise my grandchildren.”
Prudence looked at the younger woman. “And what does Henrietta want?”
The younger woman looked startled at her question, as if the very notion of her having any ambition different from her mother was as exotic as an Indian snake charmer luring his cobra out of a basket with a song.
“I—it would please me, I mean if I….”
“Henrietta wants the very same things I want for her.” Mrs. Blakely snorted. “Young ladies don’t need to have opinions or plans. That’s what a mother is for!”
She whirled on Prudence. “And what does your mother think about your career ambitions?”
Prudence swallowed. “My mother died when I was twelve. My father said her greatest wish for me is that I should be happy. He passed away several years ago, not long after I was married.”
Prudence swallowed the lump in her throat at the reminder she was an orphan. That was one of the things that made her the perfect target for Eli’s mother, because she couldn’t go running back to her family when she was mistreated. Ada Worthington’s verbal tirades had turned to slaps, then pushing and escalated to attacking Prudence. The day she hit Prudence with the rug beater before pushing her down the stairs she’d been terrified of what the woman was capable of doing.
Eli’s death had made the woman angry and abusive. When Prudence asked Hiram Worthington, her father-in-law, for help he’d excused his wife’s violent outbursts as distress over the loss of her only son. He’d insisted that Prudence needed to be more sympathetic and understanding.
That’s when Prudence swallowed her pride and contacted her father’s brother to beg for help. She would always be grateful for the assistance her Uncle Edwin had provided to help her escape from Ada.
Mrs. Blakely had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Well, I am sorry for your loss. And perhaps that’s why you have these unladylike tendencies, Mrs. Worthington, because you didn’t have a mother to guide and advise you.”
Prudence wanted to unleash the sharp edge of her tongue against the woman, but she was hit by an overwhelming tide of fatigue. She’d completed an exhausting journey across the country and she couldn’t bear another moment in the company of these catty women.
She stood and set her cup and saucer on the small table in front of the divan. “I beg your pardon, ladies. I’m quite tired and I need to retire.”
Miss Henrietta Blakely stood and offered her hand to Prudence. “Please excuse us. Of course you must be exhausted. Let me help you to your room.”
Prudence smiled at the younger woman’s concern. Perhaps if they met without the influence of her mother, Henrietta might yet become a friend.
“Thank you, but I’m sure I can manage. Please make my excuses to the gentlemen.”
Prudence swept out of the parlor and started up the stairs to her bedroom.
“Leaving us so soon,” a deep voice drawled from the bottom of the stairs.
She turned to see the schoolmaster looking up at her with a feral grin. “I’d hoped to have some time to get to know you better, Mrs. Worthington.” His sky blue eyes flitted up her body and Prudence shivered. He straightened and Prudence realized he was as tall as Gerritt and as physically impressive. Broad shoulders filled out his frock coat, and when he glanced at his watch, she could see his vest covered an expanse of muscular chest that dipped down to a flat belly. A leather gun belt hung around slim hips, but she didn’t see a weapon holstered there.
It seemed odd for a schoolmaster to carry a gun, but then again it was the frontier.
Despite Gerritt’s warning, she warmed to think another handsome gentleman was using his charm on her. Especially when the lovely Henrietta Blakely offered a strong comparison, her elegant clothing, slim figure and blonde beauty posed an opposite to Prudence’s petite, plain and downright dowdy appearance.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, sir, but I’m quite tired.” She smiled. “I have a hunch that we’ll be seeing more of each other, Mr. Faherty.”
“I look forward to it,” he responded, nodding his head in respect. “Good evening.”
Prudence continued up the stairs, confused by the whirl of emotions whipping through her. Anger at the women, attraction to the professor and now an unexpected flirtation with the schoolmaster.
She’d never been the belle of the ball. Several years of being called ugly, stupid and useless by Eli’s mother had taken their toll. She couldn’t look in the mirror without seeing her ordinary black hair, cloudy gray eyes and small, unremarkable features. Her reflection seemed to confirm her mother-in-laws assessment. As a young woman, she’d been deemed a bluestocking, more interested in visiting the lending library than the village dances.
Now that she was older, she accepted that she needed to rely upon her intellect and skills and not her beauty or charm.
She’d grown up with Eli, their childhood friendship turning into something deeper as they grew older. After he enlisted in the army, Eli had walked with her to the river where they’d fished together as children and proposed.
Theirs wasn’t a passionate marriage, but one built on a foundation of respect and compatibility. She’d been happy to be chosen as his wife, and he’d felt more like a grown man as he marched off to war.
But Eli left her to never return. She’d been a young bride without resources or prospects for a home of her own. He left her at the mercy of her mother-in-law, a woman who despised her and somehow held Prudence responsible for the loss of her son. Then Prudence’s father died of influenza the winter after Eli had been killed…and she was alone again.
When she’d completed her period of mourning, she’d jumped at the chance her uncle dangled in front of her. He’d heard Lamere’s Business College was going to
admit women to their school for the first time and Prudence was determined to be accepted.
As she entered her bedroom, where Alma had already lit the oil lamp, she felt a rush of happiness. She was on the verge of fulfilling her dreams and future possibilities spread before her like a beautiful patchwork quilt.
As she unbuttoned her gown, she grinned at her reflection in the looking glass. Once she’d managed to wash off the dust and dirt, her dark hair gleamed, Her face had thinned out on the trip, but that made her cheekbones a bit more prominent now. Her waist was slimmer, the corset now fastening without such tight lacing.
She touched her lips, remembering the kisses she’d shared with Gerritt. Her employer, she reminded herself.
Her dreams had never included being courted by a handsome gentleman, but perhaps she’d found a place where she’d be esteemed more for her character than her appearance.
Then again, maybe the men here were just more desperate than the ones back home.
Chapter Four
Invention and Intervention
Gerritt opened the door to his office with slow, careful patience, because despite Prudence’s best efforts, there was still a chance if he swung it too wide, too quickly—he’d send a pile of papers or books flying across the room.
She worked in the middle of the floor, her legs settled beneath her brown skirts. He groaned. He hated all the dreary dark clothing she wore. He imagined her in scarlet satin or rose hued silk and enjoyed the fantasy for a moment.
Looking up from the papers she’d sorted into various piles surrounding her, she flashed him a bright smile. His heart thudded an extra beat in response. It still amazed him how a smile transformed her face so much, lighting it up with a glow. He had to keep from crossing the room and taking her in his arms, leaning her back and ravishing her with hot, steamy kisses.
“I thought I might lend some assistance for this herculean task.”
She gazed around the room. “I suppose even after more than a week, it hardly seems like I’ve made any progress.”
“On the contrary, I know how much of a mess it was to begin with.” He slid a pile of papers away from her side with the toe of his boot before he flopped down next to her, stretched out and leaned his head on his hand, elbow resting on the floor. “After all, I’m responsible for creating the chaos and you’re forced to turn it into some semblance of order.”
She laughed, then looked embarrassed at being caught enjoying the joke at her employer’s own expense and pasted what he thought of as her prim, ladylike look on her face.
God, how he hated that expression. It was too passive and genteel. He much preferred the wild, lusty look she’d worn in the bathhouse the first night she’d arrived in Jubilee. But as much as he wished to hold her, kiss her into oblivion and make love to her, he’d stuck by his promise to Prudence and maintained a cool, somewhat distant demeanor when they were together. Even though it was beginning to stretch his patience thinner and thinner.
The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to pull her into his arms and taste those full, pouty lips. His hands ached to slide down her soft, delicate skin and trace every delightful curve of her body. Visions of her naked body haunted his dreams every night as he tossed and turned, fighting the urge to slam his bedroom door open, stomp down the hallway and ravish her in her own bed.
Then he’d recall the terrified look on her face before he’d made that promise. Prudence was no calico queen or soiled dove. She came from a good family and was brought up to be a lady.
“Are you going to build something like these mechanical men?” She removed her spectacles, held out several drawings and tapped one of them as her lips lifted into a delicate grin. “They’re as wild as some of the inventions in those books by the Frenchman, Jules Verne.”
“So, you’re a fan of Verne, eh? While I don’t have any cannons that can shoot people to the moon, I do have some interesting inventions around here. I was thinking perhaps you’d like to see some of the town and one of my most remarkable creations. You’ve been stuck in this room since the day after you arrived.” He stood up and held out a hand. “How about some fresh air and new scenery to relieve the boredom of attempting to organize this mess?”
“I don’t think of it as boring,” she replied. “I find your work fascinating, and I’m honored to be even a small part of it.” Her eyes glittered with enthusiasm.
“Well, I’m delighted you think so, but you need to get outside a bit. I think you should also get a sense of my business interests. The gold mine is the source of my income, but the mechanical inventions are the source of my pride.”
He held out his hand and she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. He tried to ignore the sizzle of heat that jumped between them. After smoothing her skirt she grabbed the ugly straw bonnet, now wrapped with dismal brown lace, and fastened the faded ribbons beneath her chin.
He’d much rather enjoy the view of her jet black hair. At least the tight bun she wore had loosened and a few dark curls framed her face. He wanted to slide one of the sable strands through his fingers and enjoy the smooth silkiness of the texture. Instead he straightened his vest and fondled his pocket watch as he waited for her to grab her reticule.
They made polite conversation about the weather, the history of the town and various other topics as they walked. Gerritt pointed out the general store, the butcher’s shop, the gunsmith, a bakery and a livery stable. He indicated Mrs. McCauley’s boarding house, a large, solid looking building with a neat, well tended garden surrounded by a white-washed wooden fence. There were several saloons, a shipping office and a cluster of sturdy houses, some still under construction. The schoolhouse that also doubled as a church on Sunday was made of rough lumber, but the fact that they could offer the children of Jubilee an education was a source of intense pride for Gerritt. In fact, he was proud of his town and the way it was growing. He dreamed of it someday being a dignified city with a town hall, an opera house and even several churches.
When they arrived at the mine entrance he gestured for her to enter the cage of the lift. She hesitated, glanced at him for a moment, as if for reassurance, and then did as he’d requested.
He slid the wire door closed, yanked a lever and they started to drop. To her credit Prudence didn’t scream, but she grasped his arm and clung to him. At her touch, heat crept up his arm, spread to chest then slithered down his nether parts. He worked hard to ignore it.
Prudence stiffened even more as they dropped several levels into the chilly darkness of the mine. He pulled the lever forward and the cage screeched to a halt. He slid the door open again and made a gesture for her to exit before him.
Staring out into the damp inky gloom spread before them, Gerritt lit several lamps and handed one to her. “Watch your step in here, there’s a rail along the middle of the floor.”
As they walked forward, he lit the other lamps fixed to the sides of the cavern. Shadows danced along the wall and Prudence shivered.
“We’re not going far, but I wanted to show you something. I think you’ll really appreciate what I’ve got down here.”
They turned a corner and she stumbled to a halt. He pushed past her and turned in order to see her expression.
It registered shock. In fact, she was so surprised, she couldn’t seem to speak.
“Is…that. . .?” She finally asked.
He grinned. “Yes, it is! Not just a drawing or imaginary creature in a book. My Mechos are real and they work! I always think of them as the mechanical ones and that’s why I named them Mechos. Someday I hope to use them in the mine for some of the dangerous jobs, like lighting the dynamite.”
She held one hand to her mouth as he searched for one of the tin operating plates he’d designed to animate the Mecho.
“It won’t be able to do much, just slide along the railing. The steam power isn’t hooked up, but I’ve connected a line from the windmill and there’s enough spark to get it fired up for a few minutes.”
/> He grabbed a plate, inserted it into the slot in the back of the iron casing of the Mecho and stood back. It didn’t take long for the mechanical figure to jump to life. The arms started frantically waving as it advanced forward.
Prudence gave a yelp of surprise and took a few steps back as the Mecho moved in her direction. The huge sledgehammer fastened to one arm moved up and down in a deadly rhythm as it gained more speed and slid toward her at an alarming rate.
She turned and headed for the lift, screaming Gerritt’s name in a long, low wail of terror.
Gerritt pumped his legs as fast as he could, but the Mecho screeched with a metallic grinding, faster and faster toward Prudence. She stumbled and fell, and his heart began to thump like a locomotive at full steam as the horror of what was happening hit Gerritt. The machine’s iron arm holding the hammer lifted with obvious intent to strike her.
He leaped forward to yank the operating plate from its’ back. Prudence rolled to the side, a bare few inches out of the way when the hammer swung down in a deadly arc. She screamed again.
The mechanical man froze with the sledgehammer embedded in the ground.
Gerritt dropped to his knees and clenched Prudence to his chest, aware that her quick thinking had saved her life. Blood dripped from one corner of her mouth.
“You’ve been hurt, stay still and let me look at you.” He ordered as he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and put it against her swollen lower lip.
She was trembling and even in the shadowy light he could see her wide, terrified eyes shining with tears as she stared up at him.
“Get me out of here,” she demanded, her voice shaky. He leaned down, put his hands underneath her and lifted her into his arms. He shifted her when they reached the lift, yanked on the lever and they rose to the daylight level.
When the gate opened at the top, Gerritt shoved his way out into the bright sunshine of mid-day. He took long strides to the main office of the mine and kicked open the door. The heads of his manager and bookkeeper snapped up at the force of the intrusion.
Prudence and the Professor Page 5