Fate's Intervention

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Fate's Intervention Page 12

by Barbara Woster


  “Great!” Matthew said, taking the bag. “But I could have taken care of that. There wasn’t any need to wake the boy so early in the morning.”

  Marcelle smiled, “I didn’t have to wake him. He was already up and into mischief long before I went knocking at their door. Poor Nancy looked as if she was about to have apoplexy, so I took the boy off her hands and channeled his energy into doing something useful.” Marcelle shrugged her shoulders and grinned.

  “You think bringing those horses around from the barn is enough to keep that little hellion out of trouble?” Matthew asked, knowing how active Nancy’s six-year-old boy could be. Most of the time he shadowed Matthew, asking questions incessantly about the horses, sitting on the fence post watching him train, and chattering endlessly about nothing. Matthew often wondered if the boy would be more docile if he had a father, or if all boys were that active at his age. If he had sons, would they be as energetic?

  “Lord, no!” Marcelle laughed, snapping him out of his musings. “That’s why I set him to mucking out stalls right after. I figure by the time that Nancy and I get breakfast set out, he’ll be ready for a morning nap.”

  Matthew laughed, “Ingenious, Miss Weatherman. I reckon you’ll make yourself a pretty good mama one of these days.” The minute the words escaped, he wanted to call them back. Damn! He knew that she wasn’t likely to marry or have children and to suggest that she’d be a good mama when he knew she wouldn’t have children to be a mama to, was callous. Marcelle’s grim expression confirmed his blunder, but to her credit, she revealed none of her thoughts.

  “Marcelle, I . . . ,” Matthew started, but Marcelle interrupted.

  “Anyway,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard what he said, “your horse is saddled. I attached a lead rope to the five mares you are selling, so all you have to do is mount up and ride away.”

  “In that big a hurry to get rid of me, are you?” Matthew said lightly, trying to recapture their comfortable camaraderie from a moment earlier.

  “Mmm, without a doubt,” Marcelle teased back, also grateful the awkward moment had passed. “After all, as long as you’re standing here, I can’t see to my mending and knitting and all the other delightful chores that fill my day.”

  Matthew laughed, relieved that he hadn’t upset her too badly, “Well, then, I guess I’d best hightail it out of here.” He moved by her and opened the front door. “I should be back before the end of the month. I’ll wire, if anything delays my return.”

  Marcelle nodded and Matthew turned, heading toward White Star.

  “What? No goodbye kiss?” Marcelle called after him and Matthew froze in the process of packing the food in his saddlebags. He turned slowly to face Marcelle who was wearing a teasing grin on her face. Joseph wasn’t the only little hellion about the place, he thought dourly.

  “Marcelle, you don’t go teasing a man about things like that,” he said, unable to avoid the huskiness that crept into his voice, “especially when he has to mount a horse right after. That would definitely make for an uncomfortable ride,” he concluded.

  When Marcelle looked at him quizzically, he groaned. How could he explain something like that to an innocent? He couldn’t even begin to try. He closed his eyes and tried to shake the thought of kissing her away – again. This time it clung stubbornly. She was too inviting, by far. Normally a kiss wouldn’t even elicit so much as a twinge of response from his body, but not so with Marcelle. Just being near her was like sitting on a bed of hot coals. It burnt him right down to his soul, and that made him boil, so he could only guess at what reaction his body would have if he did kiss her – really kiss her. He shifted uncomfortably as his mind conjured her lying naked in his bed, him reigning kisses along her supple flesh. Damn, but it was going to be an uncomfortable ride and he hadn’t even laid a hand on her. His irritation rose. If he was going to ride in discomfort, there should be more than just thoughts causing it.

  He shook his head violently and opened his eyes. She was still standing there, eyeing him quizzically.

  “Are you okay, Matthew?” She whispered from her place on the porch.

  “Not really, no!” He muttered and instantly let out a string of curses when she misconstrued his statement, lifted her skirt, and ran down the steps toward him. “Stop!” He yelled when she was halfway down.

  The tone in his voice made Marcelle do just that, “What? What is it?”

  “Turn around and go back up the steps,” he said between clenched teeth.

  “Why? It’s not like you’ve contracted a contagious disease or anything, and why are you suddenly behaving so strangely?” Marcelle asked. “It’s like you’re angry with me for something I haven’t even done. Why are you so put out, by the way?”

  “Because of that stupid little teasing question you asked, that’s why!” Matthew blurted, his temper rising.

  “Teasing question? You mean you’re behaving churlishly because I simply asked if you were going to kiss me goodbye?” Disbelief clearly showed on Marcelle’s face in the morning light.

  “Hell, yes!”

  “Well, I have never, in all my born days, heard of anything so ridiculous in my entire life,” Marcelle snapped. “If you don’t wish to kiss me, then all you have to do is say so. There’s absolutely no call for this sort of behavior.”

  “If I don’t wish to . . . Woman, I want to do more than just kiss you. Damnation! I spent half the night thinking of exactly that, and if you don’t get your tail end back up those stairs then I’m going to . . . ,” Matthew started, but Marcelle cut his tirade short.

  “What? Are you threatening me?”

  “You’re a smart woman. Take it anyway you like, but don’t ever tease me about kissing you, or anything like it again.”

  “You know, Matthew, for a man full-grown, you sure are acting like a baby,” Marcelle said angrily, “especially over a little comment about a kiss. I mean, a kiss for heaven’s sakes. It’s not as if I asked you to take me to bed before you leave! Although, by your behavior, that would likely be as abhorrent to you as kissing me would be, despite your declarations to the contrary!”

  Damn! That did it! He was going to kiss her, and this time he didn’t have time to take a dunk in the creek to cool his ardor before he left, but he wasn’t going to let her get away with taunting him – the little tease. He was only sorry that time didn’t permit his teaching her a real lesson. His irritation further elevated. Didn’t she know what she was doing to him?

  The look he pinned on her as he started in her direction startled Marcelle into silencing her speech. He looked angry. She took a step backwards, spun on her heels and headed for the house. She wasn’t exactly sure what he had in mind, but her brain told her that she didn’t want to stick around and find out what he did to a woman when riled. She may have been curious once, but she hadn’t been on the receiving end at the time.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” he growled, picking up his own pace. “You started this, you little devil, and now I’m going to finish it.” Marcelle squealed when he reached for her. She broke into a run and made it to her father’s study, albeit with Matthew hot on her heels. However, she wasn’t exactly sure what to do now that he had her cornered.

  She attempted to put the desk between the two of them, but before she could do so, Matthew caught up with her. He grabbed her arm and yanked her around to face him.

  “This is why it’s going to be damn uncomfortable on that horse for a while, woman,” he whispered, clasping hold of her hips and pulling her firmly against his arousal. “You don’t tempt a man unless you can put out his fire. Do you understand now?”

  Marcelle gasped and nodded, “I said it in jest, Matthew,” she whispered hoarsely. “Besides, kissing isn’t the same as . . . ,”

  “Don’t say it! Especially since you haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. I’m going to show you though just how much a kiss can affect you, then we’ll see if you’re still willing to tease me.” Matthew slid his hands up her back, clas
ping her neck with one hand and holding her tight with the other.

  “As for being a jesting comment. Kissing you, or the thought of anything else relating to taking you in my arms for that matter, hardly makes me want to break into uncontrollable laughter,” he whispered a moment before claiming her mouth in a kiss that sent a raging inferno shooting through her body.

  His tongue slid between her lips, demanding entry. He felt a moment of resistance, but she was not going to deny him – not now. He wrapped his hand in her unbound hair and tugged slightly, applying more pressure until her mouth opened under his onslaught, then his tongue dove in, circling and teasing in a dance that only true mates can master; and master it she did. Within seconds, she was kissing him back with all the pent-up ardor and frustration that he had no doubt mimicked his own. Still, he could not teach her a lesson if she was satisfied, so he released her the moment she acquiesced. It took a Herculean effort, but the satisfaction he felt when he saw her bemused expression would make the uncomfortable ride worth it.

  “Let’s see how easy it is for you to cool down now,” he said, a smile on his face.

  Without waiting for a response, he turned, retrieved his hat where it had fallen, and stormed out of the house.

  Marcelle sank to the floor, her legs unable to hold her and felt a shiver run down her spine. Perhaps she should tease him more often, she thought, her fingers running lightly over her swollen lips.

  She smiled, got up, and walked on unsteady legs to the window. She caught a glimpse of Matthew as he rode out of sight and burst into laughter. So that’s what an aroused man rides like, she thought.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Marcelle hummed softly to herself as she did her chores. Matthew had been gone over a week, but her heart and body still carried the remnants of his kiss, his touch. He was right. A kiss like that stayed with a body a long, long time, so she could easily understand why he didn’t want to even mention kissing, unless he could do the kissing.

  He never meant for it to be arousing, she was sure. Undoubtedly, he had meant to punish her for taunting him mercilessly, as he’d said, but the only suffering she was going through wasn’t from the actual kiss, but in knowing that he would probably never do it again.

  Unless I tease him some more, she thought with a giggle.

  She was dusting the balustrade with flourished sweeps of her arm, her body swaying gently in time with the soft tune issuing from her softly parted lips.

  Peter stopped at the head of the stairs, watching his daughter wonderingly. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was a woman in love, but with whom? She hadn’t behaved this way before Matthew’s departure or he’d think it was Matthew that had her all addlepated. Unless, of course, something had happened after he’d gone to bed the night before Matthew’s departure that set her on this course of infatuation.

  Strange that he didn’t notice anything that would lead him to believe they were interested in each other as more than friends. No more than their normally witty repartee. Nothing, certainly, that told him either had changed their minds about taking a trip down the aisle.

  If Matthew were the cause of Marcelle’s sudden shift in demeanor . . . well, he wasn’t quite certain how to feel about it. Yes, he would be honored for Matthew to be his son-in-law, but is that what Matthew wanted? He’d never suggested as much.

  He felt confident that Matthew was a man of honor and wouldn’t take advantage of Marcelle without the intent of marriage. At least he couldn’t see him doing that. Which left him wondering who had put the added bounce in her step? Matthew, or another man, unknown to him?

  She glanced up and smiled at him, a slight blush on her cheeks. She knew he’d caught her daydreaming.

  “Good morning, Father.”

  “Marcelle,” he said simply, his eyes narrowing in question. Marcelle turned away and placed her dust rag on the hall table. Obviously, it was her intent to avoid his unspoken query. “Why don’t you join me in the study, dearest?” Her father said, moving slowly down the stairs. “I’d like a word with you.”

  “I’m very busy right now Father,” Marcelle answered lamely, reaching for the polish.

  “Now, Marcelle.” Marcelle sighed and followed her father into his study.

  “Have a seat.”

  “Are you feeling quite all right, Father?” Marcelle asked, solicitously. Although she was concerned for her father’s well-being, she was hoping to divert the question she’d seen in his eyes. After all, how do you tell your father that the man supposed to look after you, was taking consensual liberties. “You look more lively than usual, I must say.”

  “I think that good night’s sleep did me good, but my health is not why I summoned you in here. You do know why I wanted to talk to you, don’t you?”

  “I’ve a fairly good idea,” Marcelle muttered.

  “Very well, I’ll let you fill me in without laying down a barrage of questions then,” her father said, waving a hand for her to begin.

  “Father, I’m not quite certain what you expect me to say.”

  “Well, I guess a barrage of questions is in order after all, so we’ll start with the obvious one. Has Matthew done anything that might warrant my concern?”

  “No, Father,” Marcelle sighed, “Matthew has been a perfect gentleman.”

  “Perfect gentlemen do not put tints of pink in virginal cheeks, bounces in their steps, or music in their heart. Or is there someone else that I need to be having a chat with?”

  “No, definitely no one else.”

  “Very well, tell me what Matthew’s done and I’ll determine just how chivalrous he’s been, or whether a shotgun is in order.”

  “Oh, Father, don’t be so dramatic,” Marcelle huffed, “it’s not as if you wouldn’t be pleased if something did happen – which nothing did. Don’t think,” she continued, wagging her finger in his direction, “that I haven’t seen you eyeing us out of the corner of your eye.”

  “Watch your tongue, girl!” He said sharply. “Besides, wanting to see you happily wed is a different matter all together than allowing you to debauch yourself with a man who has absolutely no intention of marrying you.”

  “Then why did you sign over the house and business to him? If you knew that he wasn’t interested in marrying me, why set us up to live together in sin?”

  “I was kind of hoping . . . ,”

  “Exactly,” Marcelle interrupted. “You were hoping that something would happen; and were counting on that something including a trip down the aisle, but he hasn’t made any overtures in that direction; hasn’t even noticed me like that, at least not until the night before he took his leave; and now that there is a spark, you don’t quite know what to do. You can’t kick him out, because he legally owns everything we have.”

  “I can still send you to live with your Aunt Vera.”

  “Can you?” Marcelle challenged. “Unless I heard wrong, you put the decision of going or remaining squarely on my shoulders, and I chose to remain.”

  “Are you sleeping with him?”

  “No,” Marcelle sighed and slumped back in her chair. “Despite my outburst, Father, nothing untoward happened between Matthew and me.”

  “Yet I’m not imagining the difference in your demeanor,” Peter said, “and you’re not just happy. Whistling while you work. There is a marked difference between happy and enamored. I’ve been there, so I’m a fair judge in that regard.”

  “Enamored? Hardly!”

  “Well, perhaps not enamored then, but definitely enchanted. Am I wrong about that?”

  “Would you simply accept the fact that Matthew has fascinated me? Made an impression on me, as it were.”

  “Why suddenly?”

  “It wasn’t really of a sudden, you know,” Marcelle admitted, blushing. “He made an impression on me the day we met.”

  “Ah, I knew there was more to his hiring than the fact he’d suddenly found himself unemployed.”

  “Yes, well, I did hire him partly out of
pity for his situation,” Marcelle said, “but the other part isn’t quite as easily explainable. I didn’t want him to know that he’d affected me in any manner, because of his aversion to women and marriage. I figured he wouldn’t take the job if he thought I found him attractive. Then something unexpected happened the night before he left.”

  “He kissed you.”

  “Well, I was concerned about your health and I guess it showed on my face. He only wanted to comfort me, but it turned into a little more than that.”

  Peter’s face reddened at the implication, “I hope I’m not hearing what I think I’m hearing. I mean, all he did was kiss you, right?”

  “Yes, father. That’s all he did. He held me and kissed me a little, is all,” Marcelle blushed, trying to maintain her own calm, not in the face of her father’s anger, she’d been on the receiving end of that too often for him to affect her, but from the memory of the morning after.

  “That’s all, huh?” Peter asked, noticing the dreamy look that returned to his daughter’s face.

  “I’d hardly think that would be nothing, but you needn’t worry, I don’t think he meant to kiss me and probably wouldn’t have kissed me the next morning had I not teased him.”

  “He kissed you again the next morning?” Peter asked, wondering whether he needed to hire on a chaperone, now that things were progressing beyond friendship between the two.

  She may think she didn’t want to marry, may even think she cares little for her standing in society and her reputation as well, but she’d never been on the receiving end of ostracism and people could be cruel. He needed to protect her, from herself if need be, before he passed on. Maybe he could hire someone under the guise of a companion, so she wouldn’t be upset over the notion, unless he could persuade Matthew to marry her without his knowing he was persuading him. Meanwhile, he’d have to put a bridle on his own daughter first.

  “What are you doing teasing the poor man?”

  “Father, you’re face is getting all red. Do calm down,” Marcelle sighed.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down, girl!” Peter yelled. “Now, answer me. What are you doing teasing a full-grown man?”

 

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