Libby Learns Her Lesson (Swift Justice Book 3)

by Dinah McLeod

  Much to her surprise, however, the thought didn’t lift Libby’s spirits. In fact, it only served to make the situation feel more awful.

  “C’mon, Miss Libby. Draggin’ your feet isn’t goin’ to make this go away.”

  Oh, how well she knew it. If there was something—anything—she could do to make it go away, she would have done so, and gladly. But that opportunity had passed, and she had nothing and no one to blame but her own stubborn pride. The same pride that was keeping her feet stuck to the dirt road she now stood on.

  “Let’s get this unpleasant business out of the way, hmm?”

  Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one who would be apologizing. Nonetheless, she inclined her head in reluctant agreement and followed him the rest of the way, pausing only for a moment once they reached the doorway to gather what was left—the meager threads—of her dignity.

  * * *

  The little ball that had filled Libby’s belly had become a balloon of mortification that weighed her down as she entered the mercantile. As hard as she tried to mimic her usual posture, she couldn’t manage to hold her head high, no matter how hard she tried. It felt much too heavy today, weighed down by her shame. Instead, her eyes dragged on the floor as she made her way up to the counter.

  A brief glance showed that Justine was still standing behind it, watching her as she approached. She didn’t have to look around the store to know that every pair of eyes was on her. She could feel them hot on her back. Even if she hadn’t been able to, the sudden hush that had filled the store when she’d entered would have given it away. How she would have loved to glare at them all, daring them to utter so much as a word, or risk a smile. Yet, with Wesley’s stern, formidable presence at her side, she didn’t dare.

  Though he didn’t say a word, Wesley’s arm pressing against her own prompted her to speak. “Justine… I j-just wanted to say…” She swallowed hard, hating herself for the stutter. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for… for how I behaved earlier.”

  “I don’t think she heard you,” Wesley said quietly. “Speak up.”

  Libby shot him an incredulous glance, even though she already knew all too well that he was very serious indeed. Before she could make another fumbling apology, however, Justine spoke up.

  “I heard her just fine. Thank you, Libby.”

  Now it was her turn to be befuddled by the shop girl. How could it be that she was so easily letting her off the hook? Had it been the other way around, Libby would have let her wriggle on it for a spell, and done so gladly. Yet, her scrutinizing surprise of Justine revealed nothing but a sympathetic smile.

  “Thank you,” she returned quietly.

  “Now, if you folks’ll excuse us, we have other things to tend to.” Wesley gave her arm a gentle tug to encourage her to follow along beside him. Libby, for her part, managed to hold her head up at last while they passed the ogling townsfolk. “Very nicely done,” he whispered to her as they made their way through.

  Much to her surprise, Libby felt a surge of pleased satisfaction shoot through her at the praise. It made the small, fretful steps she was taking toward her father’s office a little lighter. She stopped at his open door, however, taking in a couple of deep, shaky breaths.

  “I’m here with you,” Wesley whispered, giving her arm a gentle squeeze.

  She summoned a smile at the reassurance, even though he needn’t have bothered. She didn’t fear her father. Her mother, on the other hand… when she learned of this, Libby didn’t know who she’d feel sorrier for: Wesley, or the man who had sat and watched it happen without lifting a finger to stop it.

  Then she stepped into his office, noting that he was already seated behind his desk. While the rest of the room was rather plain, with bookshelves filled with notepads from the prior years’ records, the desk was exquisite, and the only finery her pa had allowed himself. It was a rich cherry wood with shiny brass handles on each of the perfectly fitted drawers. It had taken over a month to be shipped from Virginia and it was his pride and joy. Seeing him behind it gave him an air of importance, making him seem more powerful somehow. Which, she supposed, was why he chose to have all meetings of importance with him sitting behind it.

  “Well.” He let the word hang in the air as he leaned back in his chair, contemplating the two of them.

  “Sir, if you’ll just give me the chance, I’d like to explain.” Wesley stepped forward, hat in hand.

  “I don’t think I need your explanations. I ‘spect I see the matter quite clearly for myself. My Libby was being insufferable, I imagine, and you decided to take her to task for it. Does that about sum it up?”

  “Pa!” she gasped, her eyes widening in shock at the matter-of-fact verdict.

  Not that he’d been unkind. In fact, he looked downright fond as he looked at his daughter, but that didn’t assuage the wounded pride his words wrought. “I love you, my dear. I love your spirit and your strength, but your sharp tongue and foul temper… let’s just say, they should have earned you a sore bottom long before this.”

  Libby’s mouth dropped open. Never in her life had she been so flummoxed—and considering that only mere minutes ago she’d found herself draped over the knee of Wesley Swift and having her tail tended to, that was saying something indeed!

  She couldn’t help but feel gratified when, chancing a glance at Wesley’s face, he looked just as mystified as she.

  “As deserved as it might have been, however, the fact that you laid eyes on my daughter’s underthings… well, was highly improper,” he continued. “As you two aren’t courting, I’m afraid her reputation will suffer for it.”

  Libby’s jaw dropped open. Both men continued to talk as though they didn’t notice.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, Mr. Park. I’m afraid I wasn’t thinkin’ about such things at the time.”

  “Oh, I s’pose not,” Pa replied calmly as he opened his desk drawer and pulled out his pipe. He began to fill it from the tobacco jar on his desk, still so calm and matter-of-fact that Libby wanted to scream.

  He was choosing to speak of suitors now? And in front of Wesley? Why on Earth!

  “My Libby has a way about her that often makes men forget themselves,” he chuckled, seeming nonplused when she narrowed her eyes at him.

  That reaction she found more puzzling still. Normally, a cross look aimed in his direction was enough to get Libby her way or inspire contrition. Today, he seemed blind to it.

  “Nonetheless, this breach of conduct cannot be allowed to stand. We will need—I will need satisfaction.”

  Well! That made her stand a bit taller. Finally! Her father was coming to her defense, after all. Perhaps, once he’d given Wesley a thorough tongue-lashing she would step in. Yes, she decided, she’d tell him that the spanking—while certainly improper, as he’d said—had been deserved and that she held no grudge. She liked this image of herself as his rescuer very much and found herself smirking, though she quickly covered any evidence of it behind her hand.

  “Miss Park is all those things you mentioned,” Wesley answered. “She’s also a bit spoiled and could benefit with regular discipline.”

  Hmph. He was quickly making her rethink her position.

  “Be that as it may, I am more than willin’ to make amends. What d’you suggest?” Wesley inquired.

  “It’s quite simple, actually. I want you to marry my daughter.”

  * * *

  He’d barely heard Mr. Park’s words when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Libby begin to sway. Wesley quickly lunged forward and caught her mere moments before she would have collapsed to the floor.

  “Oh, dear. Put her over there, please.”

  With a nod of acknowledgement, he half-carried, half-dragged her to the chair her father had indicated. To tell the truth, Wesley was more than a little vexed. Was the idea of marrying him so awful that she would actually faint?

  “Libby?” he asked, bending his face down to hers. “Libby, are you alright?”

  Though
she was pale, her eyes were wide open. This close to her, he noticed that they were a pale blue, with flecks of violet. They were quite pretty, actually. The woman was altogether lovely, with her light brownish-red curls, her creamy, fair skin, and tiny waist. Every single bit of her was fetching, but as beautiful as she was, he didn’t know many men who would truly want to take her as their wife. Her tongue was too shrewish, and as her own father had said, her temper too wild. Being the one to deliver a much needed lashing to her equally pretty behind had felt satisfying indeed. He’d seen too many years of her causing others torment. But to see her now, looking so innocent and vulnerable, no one would have known what she was truly capable of. She looked so tiny and scared that he began to even question his own perceptions.

  “I’m fine,” she replied, her voice thin and reedy. “Please, the smell of you this close is giving me the vapors.”

  He straightened and stepped back, as requested, but not before whispering, “Here I thought it was what stirred you from your faintin’ spell.”

  “I realize that this might come as a surprise to you and given my daughter’s often less-than-agreeable nature, I reckon I can be made to understand your actions. But that still doesn’t change the fact that what you did was seen—”

  A gasp from Libby drew Wesley’s eyes away from her father. “We were seen? But—”

  “Heard, then,” Mr. Park amended hastily. “Regardless, word will spread quickly and my daughter’s reputation will be tarnished.”

  It occurred to him that her reputation already carried a heavy stain as it was. He didn’t see suitors courting her for more than a short spell. But mayhap Mr. Park had the right of it: perhaps those other men just didn’t have the faintest notion of how to handle Libby. Maybe she would benefit from being taken in hand, as he’d suggested, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he wanted to be the man to do it.

  On the other hand, what he said rang true—he had acted on instinct concerning Libby, punishing a woman who wasn’t his to chastise. He could admit that it had been impulsive, darn-near foolhardy, but it had also been the right thing to do. She’d needed to be taken down a peg, and he didn’t regret it in the least, but it certainly put the pair of them in an interesting predicament.

  “I won’t court a woman who’s unwilling,” Wesley answered at last.

  The ghost of a smile crossed the man’s lips. “I don’t know that my Libby will ever be agreeable to any suitor, but I will accept your terms.” As he glanced at his daughter, his fondness was undeniable.

  “I do have a choice then?”

  He turned at the sound of her voice, his hat still clutched between his hands. “The choice is all yours. But you should know something: if you do choose to be courted, I s’pect incidents like the one we had today will occur more often than not.”

  “Meaning…” She sat up a bit straighter as she regarded him. “It hardly seems proper to speak of such things with my father in the room.”

  “Pardon me for sayin’ so, ma’am, but it seems the perfect time to me. I want you—and your father—to be clear what I’d be offerin’. I don’t want it said that I did damage to your reputation, so I will court you, and gladly. But if I do, I expect a wife who will obey me at considerable consequence to her bottom if she does not.”

  “Is that all?” she asked in frosty tones.

  “No,” he said with the smallest of chuckles. “It’s not, but I think I’ve given you plenty to think on for one afternoon. Now I think it’s time I took my leave.”

  “Good day, Mr. Swift.”

  Wesley turned to the man who might very well become his future father-in-law and gave him a firm nod. “Good day.” Once his hat was safely restored to its place upon his head, he tipped it at the lady in question. “And to you.”

  Libby was pale and still. She didn’t seem much like herself—further proved when she murmured a goodbye.

  Wesley found himself smiling as he went to untether his horse and ride for home. The turnabout he’d seen in her in such a small amount of time was gratifying. Perhaps there was hope for her yet. But he couldn’t even think on such things. It was laughable to think that she would ever agree to be courted, much less marry him. Besides which, his sister would throw a fit the likes of which the world had never seen and that would only be the beginning.

  It wasn’t so bad, being single. He’d gotten along fine so far, taking over all of his father’s duties on the farm since he’d turned ill. It had been long, punishing work in the beginning, despite the long days he was already accustomed to. But now, he’d come to enjoy the simple pleasure of seeing something he’d planted grow. It was a simple life, but it had its own rewards.

  Not that the thought of marrying had never crossed his mind. Of course he’d always assumed he’d take a wife, when the time was right. Eventually. He’d expected to have children, young ones for his ma to spoil. But in the rare moments of daydreaming about his future that he’d allowed himself, Libby had never once come to mind as even a possibility. She was beautiful, yes… perhaps too much so. She turned many a man’s head wherever she went and she was not guarded to it as a proper lady should be. Nor did he believe that she’d find enjoyment in the simple pleasures as a farmer’s wife.

  And yet, despite all his reservations—and there were many—when he thought of Libby his heart began to speed up. He couldn’t help but remember how she’d looked up at him during her chastisement, her beautiful blue eyes wide with apprehension, yet clear and trusting at the same time. It was a sight that had been seared into his mind.

  All of these thoughts were still galloping through his head when he reined his horse in so that he could dismount. Wesley led him into the barn and saw to it that he had some oats before he made his way up to the house. As he drew close, he saw that Maggie was watching his approach from the porch.

  She lifted her hand in greeting. “Howdy, Wes. I didn’t ‘spect to see you till suppertime.”

  “Howdy, Mags. I made quick time without a nosey sister taggin’ along lookin’ for gossip.”

  “Oh, p’shaw!” she said with a hand on her hip.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, I know you can get your gossip without me.”

  “How you do go on!” she exclaimed, but she was smiling. “So, tell me,” she said, looping her arm through his when he reached the porch. “What is the news in town?”

  “I knew it!” he crowed.

  “Oh, hush!”

  Wesley chuckled as he shook his head at her. “Actually, things were pretty uneventful, if you ask me.”

  She sighed, long and heavily. “You wouldn’t know good gossip if it stepped on your foot, Wesley Swift.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” he conceded as he opened the door for her. She huffed at him once more before walking inside. The moment she was past, he allowed himself a grin. She’d never forgive him if she knew.

  * * *

  “You can’t be serious, Lester,” Libby’s mother’s voice rang out disdainfully that night over the dinner table.

  “Quite, actually,” he replied, spearing a carrot with his fork and eating it as though he was uninterested in the upheaval his announcement had wrought.

  “But… you cannot honestly mean to let our daughter, our only daughter wed the likes of Wesley Swift!” she spluttered. “Do you have any idea… why, we’d be the laughingstock of the entire town!”

  “The Swifts are well-respected in this town,” Pa replied calmly. “I can’t think of a family more respected, honestly.”

  “I don’t care who respects them,” she hissed, glaring daggers at him. The sight of her venomous stare was enough to make Libby uneasy, so it was a mystery to her how her father managed to remain so aloof. “I will not have him marry my daughter. Do you understand me, Lester?”

  Pa met her gaze head-on, his expression just as resolved as her own. “She is my daughter too, in case you’ve forgotten. She could do much worse than Wesley Swift.”

  “He’s a farmer,” she replied, as thou
gh he was daft.

  “I know that quite well. And as for marriage, that would be a ways off. Let’s see how they do courtin’ first before you dig your heels in.”

  “Perhaps I ought to remind you that my family will not stand for this insult. They—”

  “Please, Carol, don’t bring your family into this. I know well what they think of our marriage—you’ve seen to it. I reckon I can guess what they’d say about this, but they don’t have a choice in the matter. And frankly, neither do you.”

  Everyone at the table fell silent. It wasn’t often that her father stood up to her domineering mother. In fact, if there had been a time before tonight, she couldn’t recall it. Libby wasn’t the only one who was shocked. Her mother’s face had become so pinched that she seemed to have lost her voice.

  “The choice is Libby’s to make. That is what young Swift asked for, and I have granted it.”

  “Well.” Mother seemed to relax a fraction before aiming a satisfied little smirk at her daughter as she picked up her fork. “It’s settled then.”

  She began to eat, but Libby had lost her appetite the moment the conversation had begun. She hadn’t wanted to discuss such matters tonight. She’d barely had time to process them herself! She’d known that her mother would be fit to be tied if she ever agreed to so much as allow Wesley to court her, much less to a match that she clearly thought so beneath her daughter. The thought of how her mother would react was nearly tempting enough to overlook Wesley’s promise of future chastisement.

  How, exactly, would she look? Libby couldn’t help but wonder. Her mouth would probably fall open wide enough to let an entire swarm of bees inside! The shock would probably render her speechless for days! Her mother being silent was in itself a novelty since, as far as she could remember, it had never happened before. Why, she might even get a couple of white hairs she wouldn’t be able to hide under her hat! The thought was enough to make Libby laugh aloud before she could think better of it.