Pausing, he waited for Melinda’s reaction. Slowly, she arched an eyebrow, but she didn’t say anything.
“Mother knew she’d lose money, but she did it to prove a point. After three days of her staying home playing sick, my sister stepped up and—although still recovering from her injury—she went to work and started making bonnets.” He shrugged. “All my sister needed was a reason to go back to work, and my mother’s ruse worked.”
Melinda leaned forward, placing her arms on the table. “I didn’t know your mother worked. I thought you were born wealthy.”
Chuckling, he shook his head. “My father was building his career, and struggling. That’s when my mother decided to become a milliner. After Father had started making more money, Mother decided to stay at the shop because it gave her something to do.”
Melinda laughed. “Strange that your mother would want to continue to work even after your father started making money.”
“Indeed. Most of the town thought so, as well.”
Silence crept into their conversation as Melinda started eating her food. Morgan hoped her mind would be coming up with ideas on how she could get Jake to work. Of course, Morgan would assist her in any way he could.
As he finished eating, he watched her closely. It wasn’t hard, either. She was so very lovely. He wouldn’t be able to look away, even if he wanted to.
Finally, after a few minutes, she shifted in her chair and sat up straighter. “I was thinking,” she began and then quickly took another sip of her drink, “that I should follow your mother’s example. Perhaps that is what Jake needs—to feel important and needed.”
Nodding, Morgan tried to act as if it was all her idea and not his. “That just might be the trick.” He rubbed his jaw. “And are you going to follow in my mother’s footsteps and pretend to be under the weather?”
Slowly, a grin stretched across her face. “No. I actually have something even better. Just last night, my brother was complaining that I wasn’t acting more like a woman. So…” she shrugged, “that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Bravo, Miss Stewart.” Morgan raised his glass of wine. “I think that is the perfect solution.”
She didn’t know it, yet, but he was going to help her every step of the way.
The Sweetest Challenge: Chapter Six
Melinda’s heartbeat hammered quickly against her ribs as Morgan’s driver drove toward her home. Morgan sat across from her, and even though the dimly lit lantern inside the coach created shadows everywhere, she could still tell he was staring at her. She wasn’t too sure she liked the desirous look in his eyes. Then again, maybe she liked it too much. Men didn’t usually stare at her as if they wanted to devour her completely. She rather enjoyed the flittering going on in her stomach. Or was that sensation because she’d consumed too much wine tonight? Heavens, why hadn’t she stopped at just one glass? Especially, since she’d only had this drink once in her life.
“How are you feeling, Miss Stewart?” Morgan asked with a deep voice.
Tingles ran up her arms. He must expect her to be half intoxicated, too. Why else would he speak to her in such a sensual tone?
“I’m quite fine, if you must know.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. “Forgive me for enquiring, then. I just didn’t know why you had become so quiet.”
She chuckled. “Why? Because I talked so much during our meal?”
“Well…yes, if you must know.” He scooted forward on his seat, leaning toward her. “I was hoping we had become friends, but with your silence, I fear you have returned to hating me again.”
“I just realized something, Mr. Drake.” She folded her arms and relaxed in her seat. “You never did tell me of your offer.”
His smile widened. “Indeed, you are correct. So may I do so now?”
She nodded.
“As I’ve told you before, it is my business to find land to buy so that I can sell for a higher profit. Your shop is sitting on a very nice piece of land, and there is already a buyer interested. It is my job to thoroughly research these properties, and I have discovered that you are behind on your payments to the bank.”
Her chest clenched and dismay washed over her. He was correct, but she wished he didn’t know so much. For certain, this information wouldn’t make her look like an ethical owner.
“I don’t blame you,” he said quickly as he placed his hand on her knee. “With the death of your father, I’m certain it put you and your brother into a difficult situation. And since your brother is injured, you are the only person who can work. That right there makes things bad for you, I’m sure.”
“Yes, it does,” she said quietly.
“What I offer is to buy your land for twice what it’s worth. This way, you’ll have the money to purchase a smaller piece of land closer to town. The location of your new shop will be ideal, and your business will increase, I assure you.” His thumb moved gently across her leg. “Do not think of this as an unwise deal, as you have done in the past. Instead, think of this as something that will only help you and your brother out of the financial bondage your father’s death has put you under. I’m sure the pain of your father’s death is still strong inside your heart. I do understand. I lost my father recently, as well.”
Melinda wanted to hate Morgan. Really, she did. She wanted to yell at him and tell him to mind his own business. But the truth of the matter was, his words made sense. It also lightened her heart to know Morgan felt the same way because of the passing of his own parent.
Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked to keep them from falling, but one seemed to break through and run down her cheek anyway. Morgan’s sensual expression disappeared, and he frowned. He moved off his seat and sat next to her, slipping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.
“Please, Melinda, allow me to share your pain, because I know it well. Believe me when I tell you, I’m here for you. Always.”
She wasn’t strong. Especially, not now. The warmth from his body blended into hers. His masculine scent of musk surrounded her, and the stroke from his gentle fingers on her shoulder relaxed her even more. She couldn’t resist leaning against him, and when her cheek pressed against his chest, he tightened her in his comforting hold.
“Melinda, I truly want to help you,” he whispered into her hair.
Wanting to believe him, she clutched his vest and closed her eyes. Emotion tightened her throat, and she was afraid to say anything. She didn’t want to cry in front of him, but apparently, she wasn’t doing a very good job of holding it back.
“Nobody should have to go through this alone. Let me help you.” Morgan kissed her forehead.
She didn’t know if she was fully intoxicated, but at this moment, warmth spread through her, accompanied by his comforting care. Images of them together at the mask ball when they were outside under a tree sharing—and enjoying—each other’s kisses, wouldn’t leave her mind. She didn’t want to be vulnerable, but at this moment, he could do almost anything to her, and she’d allow it.
Slowly, she lifted her face to look up at him. He peered down at her with the most irresistible gaze that melted her everywhere. He genuinely looked as if he cared about her welfare. Beyond her control, the beat of her heart sped up.
He traced his finger along her jaw, and then touched the pad of his thumb to her bottom lip. Without really knowing why, she kissed his thumb.
“Morgan,” she whispered, “I want you to help me…I need this kind…of help.”
He murmured her name before covering his mouth over hers. Explosions erupted in her head. Urgently, she answered his demanding kisses, clutching his vest tighter as she pulled him to her. His arms wound around her, securing her against his hard chest.
She never felt so alive, and her heart burst with happiness. How it happened, she didn’t know, and now wasn’t the time to analyze her feelings, anyway. But she wanted him more now than she had when they first kissed at the ball, if that were at all possible. T
he elation jumping inside of her chest came as a surprise. Why did she feel this out-of-control excitement?
It must be the effect from the wine... Her heart soared, and her head twirled, placing her in some kind of magical—dizzy—world, but she loved it.
Morgan broke the kiss, but his lips were still on her, moving down her neck in a trail of fiery heat on her skin. Tilting her head back, she relished in the newfound tingles stirring inside of her. When his mouth touched her bare shoulder, she finally realized her shawl must have fallen, and he must have pushed the short sleeve from off her.
His breath was as hot as his kisses. Shivers of delight continued to buzz through her in waves. But just when she thought he would continue his onslaught of passion, he stopped and lifted just enough to gaze into her eyes. Desire etched his expression, especially in his eyes. His breaths were ragged, keeping up the tempo with hers.
What had made him stop? Did she dare encourage him to continue?
He licked his lips. “Melinda, my dearest, the coach has stopped. I believe we are at your place, now.”
Disappointment washed over her, and she wanted to cry out in frustration. Would he think poorly of her if she suggested that the driver take another turn around town? But although her mind urged her lips to say the words, she just couldn’t. Something hidden deep inside of her held her tongue.
Releasing a deep sigh, Morgan sat up and pulled her with him. He lifted the sleeve over her shoulder, and then brought her shawl around to cover her chest. He adjusted his clothes before opening the door and climbing out.
Her limbs shook as he helped her out of the vehicle. When the cooler breeze from the night air touched her skin, she shivered. She’d rather have the warmth from his hot breath than these night chills.
She couldn’t speak as he walked her to the door. So many things ran amok through her head, and she just didn’t know what to think. Nothing was clear…not even her feelings and desires. Perhaps it was a good thing she didn’t say anything. She would probably not say the right words, anyway.
He lifted her hand, kissing her knuckles. “My dear, Melinda. I have had the most wonderful evening. Can I call on you again tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” Once again, the fog in her head wouldn’t allow her to think straight.
“Yes. After all, were you not going to show your brother how much he’s needed in the shop by becoming a lady and allowing me to take you to functions around town?”
She creased her forehead. Had they discussed that? Oh, yes, now she remembered. They had talked about something like that during the meal. “Uh, yes. I suppose that would be a good thing to do.”
“I’ve been invited to an evening social at the magistrate’s house at seven. I shall send word that I’m bringing someone with me.” He smiled.
“Uh…yes. A social. That would be lovely.” She swayed, but quickly gained her bearings.
He chuckled. “My dear, sweet, Melinda. Do I need to take you inside and make sure you make it to bed in one piece?”
“Nonsense. I’m fine.” At least she hoped she was.
“Then I shall see you tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes. Tomorrow.”
She fumbled with the door knob before finally getting it open and walking inside. Once she closed the door behind her, she leaned against the thick wood and closed her eyes. What is wrong with me? It wasn’t just the wine controlling her thoughts, but why was her heart interfering?
Pondering over this complicated dilemma was pointless tonight. Tomorrow she would figure out what was going on. Tonight, however, she would dream about what could have happened if they’d only had thirty more minutes in his coach.
* * *
Would this headache ever leave?
Melinda refused to believe she’d been so foxed last night that she didn’t have any control over her words—or actions. Especially, her actions!
As usual, she was up before the sun made its debut. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her armoire. The gowns hanging in there were barely touched anymore. The clothes she wore while working in the shop were draped over a wooden chair. Switching her attention between the armoire and the chair, her mind fought with her heart on which one to choose. Part of her didn’t want to force Jake into being more responsible because she’d hope he would learn that by himself. But if she allowed him to make this decision on his own, she feared his hoodlum friends would sway him and he’d choose them over her.
For certain, she couldn’t have her brother following his friends. She must force him.
Taking a deep breath for courage, she proceeded to dress for the day—in her gown. She picked one of her nice frocks, mainly because she didn’t want Jake to think she planned on staying in the house.
She went a step further in her toilette and actually arranged her hair into ringlets. She missed not having longer hair as most of her friends did, but having long, beautiful hair would certainly give away her disguise.
Thankfully, she didn’t have any appointments this morning, or she wouldn’t have been able to pull this off. Just as long as people didn’t just drop by the shop to have her repair something, she’d be fine.
She prepared breakfast and then sat at the table and ate, waiting for Jake to get out of bed. Finally, after a very long period of drumming her nervous fingers on the table and tapping her foot, the floor in Jake’s bedroom squeaked, and within moments, he exited his room. Although he was fully dressed, his rumpled hair and wrinkled clothes made her wonder if he’d slept in his clothes last night.
When he noticed her at the table, his eyes widened and mouth dropped open. Hobbling along with his crutch, he slowly came toward the table.
“Mel? What are you doing dressed like that?”
“Odd, you should ask that questions, especially when just the other day, you criticized me for not dressing like a lady more often.”
“Yes, but…who will be working in the shop?”
She sighed and frowned. “I suppose you will have to do it.”
“Me?” His voice lifted in anger. “But I can hardly even walk.”
She tilted her head to the side, peering at him curiously. “Then tell me, dear brother, if you can hardly walk, why did I hear that you were in town yesterday while I was at work? You have told me of your difficulty riding a horse, and yet I know you didn’t take our wagon because I was working on it yesterday. Pray tell, Jake, did you walk into town…on a crutch?”
His face turned red and his jaw hardened, yet he remained silent. She recognized this reaction by now. This was her brother’s way of confessing, without saying the words.
She nodded. “That is what I thought.” She folded her arms. “So the rest of this week, I’m going to take your advice and act like a lady.”
He took deep breaths and bunched his hands into fists. “Fine. I shall work in the shop today, but I have plans for this evening around the ninth hour.”
“Oh,” she gave him a helpless look, “that just will not do. I will be attending a dinner social this evening.”
“A social? With other people?” Jake gasped. “Tell me you are jesting.”
“I’m not.”
“With whom are you attending the social with, may I ask?”
“Mr. Drake. The same man I had dinner with last evening.”
“What?” he shouted. “Why would you want to be seen with the man who is trying to buy our land?”
“Now, now, Jake.” She moved to him and placed her hand on his arm, trying to calm him down. “It’s not what you think. The only reason I’m spending time with him is to convince him that we do not need his help.”
If only her heart would stop singing with happiness every time she thought of their kiss… Then perhaps, she could convince herself that was the only reason to be seen with him.
“That is an odd way to convince someone to stay away.” Jake scowled. “I just cannot believe you, sister dear.” His gaze scanned over her attire. “Why would any woman want to look their best for someo
ne they are not interested in?”
“Jake, you really should calm yourself. You are making too much out of this.”
Her brother huffed. “Why can’t you be honest with me?”
Something inside Melinda snapped. She didn’t know how she was going to open up the discussion about his friends and what they’d planned for tonight, but she was going to say something whether it was the right time or not.
“Be honest with you?” She growled and paced slowly in front of him. “Why don’t you start being honest with me for a change?” His eyes widened, but she continued before he could stop her. “I want to know why you feel it is necessary to make plans with your friends this evening to rob the stagecoach.”
The heated color in his face quickly turned to white. His shoulders drooped and he lowered his gaze to the floor. After a few moments of silence, he shuffled his feet to the chair and sat, still keeping his eyes to the floor.
“How did you know?” he asked softly.
“Because someone overheard your conversation at the pub while you and your friends plotted out this evening’s events.”
He wiped his finger under his nose and sniffed. “I didn’t want to do it,” he said without looking up. “But I was feeling desperate for money, and my friends said they had a sure way to make money.”
She sat beside him at the table and touched his hand. “Why are you feeling desperate for money?”
“Because I know you are struggling to make payments to the bank.”
Emotion tightened in her throat as her heart clenched. She’d tried to keep that a secret from him. She hadn’t wanted him to worry. “I’m certain we will be fine, as soon as you return to the shop full time.”
“Can you assure me of that?” He looked her in the eyes. “Can you promise me the bank won’t take our home?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but couldn’t. Unfortunately, she couldn’t assure him of anything. She frowned and shook her head. “But robbing a stagecoach isn’t going to bring us money, either.”
“Yes, it will.”
Her Perfect Gentleman: A Regency Romance Anthology Page 46