An Improper Situation (Sanborn-Malloy Historical Romance Series, Book One)

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An Improper Situation (Sanborn-Malloy Historical Romance Series, Book One) Page 18

by Baily, Sydney Jane


  “But as for you, Miss Sanborn,” Helen persisted, turning to face her, “you must take it all as an enormous disruption to the quiet literary life you had. It seems that life suited you perfectly.”

  Charlotte sat at the other end of the sofa, pausing to pick up a cup and saucer. Was this a trap? What game was Helen playing?

  “I liked living in Spring City, but I find I am also thoroughly enjoying Boston. I can write anywhere.”

  “And raising the children doesn’t give you pause?”

  Charlotte frowned. She thought they’d be talking about her unseemly behavior, dancing in the barn and letting Reed stay in her house. This was too easy.

  “Of course, I wondered initially if I was up to the task,” she turned to take in her aunt, “even though Ann, their mother, had chosen me. I was flattered but nervous.”

  Alicia nodded, as if she understood how that would be.

  “But after spending even a small amount of time with my cousin’s children, I knew that they had totally captured my heart.”

  Helen seemed to be shaking her head, but turned it in to a nod.

  “Well, then, about your being a fit guardian, about your behavior,” Helen started, but Charlotte cut her off.

  “I know what you’re going to say, Mrs. Belgrave. I know you have already mentioned to my aunt your concerns.”

  Helen had the grace to look discomfited and Alicia gazed down at her tea and stirred absently.

  “But things are different in Spring City,” Charlotte continued.

  “Morals are morals everywhere,” Alicia piped in.

  “Of course,” Charlotte agreed. “And I consider myself a highly moral individual, raised by decent parents.”

  “There can be no doubt that my sister, your mother, was above reproach in that area,” Alicia said.

  “Well then—”

  “But your father,” Alicia continued. “His parents were dead when he met my sister and the Sanborns were not known to our family at that time. And they have all died out.”

  “Except for me,” Charlotte said, “and my brother.”

  “I didn’t know you had a brother,” Helen said, and Charlotte could just about see the wheels turning in her head. Perhaps she intended to try to dig up some dirt on Thaddeus, too.

  “To the topic at hand,” Charlotte said, turning to Alicia, “my father was a good man, a quiet man, who neither drank nor smoked nor gambled. And he loved my mother.”

  “Your parents aside,” Helen interrupted this list of virtues, “it is your suitability to raise children that is in question.”

  “Really? By you?”

  “Of course not. It has nothing to do with me.” Helen’s face colored and Charlotte wondered just how eager she’d be to finish her cup of tea if Charlotte mentioned Helen’s questionable arrangement with Reed. But Helen was not yet scared off.

  “I just thought your aunt would want what’s best for her grandchildren, and I thought I saw behavior that was more appropriate for a single woman than a mother.”

  “For example?” Go on, Charlotte thought, I dare you.

  “Well, I could not help but notice that you had a single gentleman staying with you.”

  She dared! Alicia set her teacup and saucer down with a clank. Apparently, they had gone beyond whether she’d danced indiscriminately at Drake’s barn and moved right on to the crux of the matter.

  “Let’s not play games, Mrs. Belgrave,” Charlotte said more plainly than she had at first intended. But, good God, she would not be brought down by one such as Helen Belgrave, who didn’t mind sharing her favors for nothing more than a vague understanding. At least Charlotte had given herself to the man to whom she’d also given her heart, no matter how rash that might have been.

  “Aunt Alicia, the only man ever to stay in my house since my brother left was Mr. Reed Malloy.”

  Alicia gave a good gasp and Charlotte hurried on. “But it was out of necessity. He would not leave those children with me unless he was sure I was capable.”

  “Why didn’t he stay in town, at a hotel?”

  “Yes, why?” echoed Helen. “The accommodations were reasonably adequate.” She looked at Charlotte over the top of her teacup and added, “They fulfilled all my needs.”

  Charlotte coughed. “Because Thomas was having nightmares and Lily was scared of the move,” she said, not untruthfully.

  “The children were there to chaperone and my neighbor, a doctor’s wife,” she added for good measure, “dropped by regularly. In any case, Mrs. Belgrave, though you and I are unknown to each other, you aren’t questioning the behaviors of your own fiancé, are you?”

  Charlotte saw Helen curl her left hand in a ball in her lap, hiding the lack of a ring. But she didn’t have to answer before Alicia stepped in.

  “It was wrong of you, Charlotte. No matter the character of the man, you must think of your own reputation. I am sure my sister would not have approved.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head.

  “It’s actually worse than I thought. I believed we were only talking of a dance and your spirited display with not one but two men.” Alicia looked to Helen for confirmation. Helen only nodded, seemingly subdued by the whole discussion.

  Charlotte addressed her aunt. “I wish you wouldn’t trouble yourself so. Spring City is not Boston; it is much more,” she searched for the right word, “informal. In any case, Aunt, I can tell you this, I would never do anything to harm Lily and Thomas. And what’s done is done.”

  “What’s done is done,” Helen repeated softly and then looked straight into Charlotte’s eyes. She couldn’t help blushing and Charlotte was certain, in that instant, that Helen knew for sure what she and Reed had done.

  Helen stood up abruptly. “Thank you for an interesting afternoon, Mrs. Randall. I hope it was not too stressful for you.”

  “No, my dear. We shall do it again, I’m sure.”

  Charlotte was unsure of the protocol. Should she be the one to show Helen to the door? Where was Gerald? Charlotte followed her into the foyer.

  At the door, Helen paused to adjust her hat and slip on her gloves.

  “When are you returning to Colorado?” she asked without preamble.

  “At present, I have made no plans to return.”

  “Well, I suggest that you make some.” And she yanked the door open and stomped down the front steps.

  Charlotte watched Helen’s swaying bustle as she sashayed to her carriage and was helped in by her driver. Blazes! Charlotte thought, it seemed as if she’d just made a more serious enemy than she’d had before.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When the calling card first arrived, embossed with a large gold F, Charlotte thought nothing of it. A number of them had been dropped off the previous day. At least superficially, people were interested in the long-lost branch of the Randall family.

  Charlotte chalked it up to social boredom, but she also felt the tiniest bit flattered at being the object of so much curiosity.

  Still no word from Reed, however. She tossed the latest card down on the table in the hall and went in to breakfast. It was only when Gerald brought the cards to Alicia on a silver tray after breakfast that Charlotte learned to whom the burnished letter belonged.

  “Jason Farnsworth, III” Alicia exclaimed. “My word. What an honor to have the Farnsworths asking for an introduction, and the eldest son at that.” She fingered the card thoughtfully. “We must respond at once, Charlotte, then you will have an undeniably acceptable escort for the ball.”

  Charlotte could hardly voice her desire that she hoped Reed Malloy would escort her, especially when her aunt lowered her voice a notch, as if the two squabbling children were even the least bit interested in the adult chatter, and added, “and we can put all the unpleasant business of . . . of your previous indiscretions behind us.”

  Charlotte could see the merit in having a proper, respectable Bostonian at her side. She had taken a grave chance in revealing to her aunt that Reed had been her hou
seguest. When she and Reed did cross paths again, her aunt would be watching them with extreme vigilance. They would have to be careful to give no hint of impropriety.

  If all it took were a few respectable outings with this Mr. Farnsworth to clear her in the eyes of her aunt, Charlotte thought it was, indeed, worth it.

  “And how do I go about meeting—?”

  “Oh, no, dear.” Alicia looked aghast. “I will handle it all. Be prepared for some afternoon sightseeing, chaperoned of course, and maybe with the children along. Do wear the gray outfit for this first encounter.”

  *****

  Charlotte was calmer than she’d anticipated for her introduction to Boston’s highest echelon. Something in the relationship she’d begun with Reed had given her confidence in herself and in her ability to hold her own in a conversation with a man. Surely, she could pull off an afternoon with a stranger for whom she cared nothing.

  “Miss Sanborn, I am charmed, quite,” the tall, fair-haired man said, after Gerald showed him into the parlor and vanished. Unsure of the procedure or how she could possibly be charming when she had yet to speak, Charlotte stood up to greet him, meeting him in the middle of the brightly colored oriental rug. He touched her hand to his lips before releasing it.

  “It is kind of you to come by,” she said. He smiled broadly at that and she thought he should do so often, for it gave him a winsome set of dimples.

  “Mrs. Randall,” he said, approaching Alicia’s winged chair. “I appreciate your giving me the opportunity to enter your lovely home and to acquaint myself with your niece.”

  It was a good start that only got better. Jason Farnsworth met the children with a boiled sweet for each of them. When they were all sufficiently satiated by tea and sandwiches, Jason invited Charlotte to go for a stroll. They started out along the length of the Common toward the business district, with Bridget walking discreetly behind with Lily and Thomas.

  Charlotte marveled over the hundreds of suited businessmen, who seemed to be hurrying from place to place. Jason pointed out where the Farnsworths had offices.

  “I understand from my aunt that your family is in import and export,” Charlotte remarked, finding it easy to converse with her jovial new acquaintance. There was no undercurrent of tension, no feeling that she would sizzle if his arm brushed hers, just relaxed company.

  “For as long as Boston has had a harbor,” Jason replied, launching into a family history upon which Charlotte was devoting all her attention until she saw the street sign for Court Street. Scollay Square was nearby.

  Without intending to, she’d been searching for that street sign and the place where she knew the offices of Malloy and Associates were located—where Reed had practiced his profession for nearly a decade. Was he there now? She longed to know if she was truly within a hundred yards of the man who had so changed her life.

  On his way back to Spring City. John’s phrase had replayed in her brain again and again. Whatever was Reed up to? He had her head spinning and he wasn’t even there. She allowed Jason to direct her steps through the financial district until they were directly in front of Faneuil Hall.

  “The Cradle of Liberty,” she remarked, referring to the meetings that took place there in the previous century.

  Jason arched an eyebrow. “Are you interested in history?”

  “Much more so than in shopping,” said Charlotte.

  He looked surprised. “I don’t think I know many women who take an interest in this sort of thing,” he said. “Pardon me, that sounded rude.”

  “Not at all,” she said, blushing. It was probably unladylike of her to want to tromp through the building, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity. If there was no meeting going on, they could wander around at their leisure.

  “Shall we go in?”

  “As you wish,” Jason said, holding the door for her.

  “I’ve spent many pleasurable hours reading the speeches of James Otis and Samuel Adams,” she explained, as they entered the great auditorium where the so-called Sons of Liberty met. In her mind, Charlotte conjured the image of the room filled to overflowing, the balconies lined with concerned faces, as voices debated the fate of a new country.

  A shiver went down her spine. She was in the heart of a city that had shaped her nation. But, after a short while, Thomas yawned so broadly, Charlotte thought his face would split.

  “Time to leave,” she said, making sure Bridget and the children were following.

  “You must be smart as a steel trap after reading so much,” Jason remarked as they exited, and Charlotte couldn’t tell if he was being condescending. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and smiled. After all, who could take offense or be cross when stepping out into the middle of Quincy Market. Street vendors were everywhere and Charlotte marveled at their liveliness.

  “Hot corn,” called out one woman. “Fresh apples,” yelled another. She couldn’t resist letting Jason purchase shaved lemon ice for each of the children. But she turned away with a shudder when a boy, not much older than Lily, screamed out, “‘Nother murder! Get your Gazette!”

  “How about we take a ride now?” Jason offered, smiling at her while gesturing in the air to his driver with a casual hand over his shoulder. Immediately, the vehicle that had been trailing them all afternoon was right beside them.

  Charlotte arranged her skirts on the black Morocco seat of the stylish carriage with the large gold “F” emblazoned on its plum-colored side. Lily sat next to her, with Thomas opposite, positioned firmly between Alicia’s maid and Jason Farnsworth.

  Charlotte couldn’t help it. Tossing decorum aside, she discreetly removed her gloves so she could brush her palms against the soft, goat leather seats. What a luxury. She relaxed and would have closed her eyes if Jason hadn’t been there. But that would be beyond rude.

  Still, for a moment, despite Jason’s friendly society, the coziness of his carriage reminded her of her peaceful study, her own comfortable chair, and her solitude. She sighed.

  “What is it, Miss Sanborn?” Jason’s soft tones seemed to match the upholstery of his plush vehicle.

  She laughed at her own foolishness. “I don’t want to sound provincial, but I cannot believe all that has happened in such a short time. If you could see where I was just a week ago, and now, Faneuil Hall.”

  “You could never be provincial,” he returned, making her blush, “but I expect our lively city is, without a doubt, a vast change from . . . Spring City, was it?”

  “Yes, where—”

  “You and Thaddeus grew up.”

  She closed her mouth quickly with a snap, as his words caught her by complete surprise. “How did you . . . ? That is, do you know my brother?” she asked, her heart suddenly pounding at the thought of seeing Teddy.

  “I met him on a trip along the northwest passage.” Her companion regaled her with a story that made her almost wish she were a man. It seemed they met soon after Thaddeus had left home, two young men from very different backgrounds, both searching for their purpose.

  Charlotte was astounded. “But how on earth did you know I was here, Mr. Farnsworth?” she asked.

  “Please, call me Jason. How did I know?” He tapped the side of his black bowler with his ivory handled cane. “I know my city, Charlotte. I keep my ear to its workings and know what’s what.” He looked out the window a moment as if contemplating those workings.

  “Thaddeus talked a spell of wonder about his older sister, the renowned ‘Charles Sanborn.’ So, when it came to my attention that one Miss Sanborn was coming to stay with her aunt, I thought to myself, could it be? Thaddeus’s older sister lives nigh two thousand miles from here, but, sure enough, it was you. I sent over my card as soon as I knew you were here.”

  She ignored the liberty he had taken in using her first name, and the fact that he hadn’t told her aunt outright that he knew her family. After all, he was a friend of her brother’s and she decided then and there that she liked him, despite his slightly dandifi
ed ways.

  Uppermost in her mind, however, was one question, and she asked him directly, “Do you know where my brother is now?”

  Jason Farnsworth shook his blond head. “Not a clue. Thaddeus Sanborn comes and he goes, always a wanderer, but he’s sure to show up sometime, no doubt when you least expect it.”

  That was true. He showed up out of the blue, stayed a week—two, at the most—and then left, sometimes only once or twice a year.

  Though they always had a great deal of affection for each other, Teddy never hid his dislike of the humdrum of daily living in Spring City. And Charlotte tried not to let her heart break each time he left her behind.

  At the top of Alicia’s front steps, Jason paused. “I hope you will allow me to take you out in the evening to see the brighter, sparkling side of Boston. Perhaps without your young charges,” he added, gesturing after the children who had already run inside with Bridget.

  Intrigued, Charlotte could think of no reason to decline. So this was how it felt to simply be with a member of the opposite sex, without the soaring passion that took over her spirit whenever Reed was near. This was nice, a little tame by comparison, but also less draining. They’d been on an even keel all afternoon.

  But what about Reed? He was supposed to be showing her his birthplace, and she wanted more than anything to share it with him. She would hate to be busy when he returned from his trip. On the other hand, Jason had been more than kind.

  Surely, an evening out with him would be a welcome distraction while she awaited Reed’s return. She looked up into Jason’s dancing felt-brown eyes.

  “I would like that,” Charlotte told him, then remembering how Alicia preferred to handle her social engagements, not to mention having no idea whether it would be acceptable for her to go out with Jason unchaperoned, she added, “but I couldn’t possibly say when.”

  “I wouldn’t think of pinning you down, Charlotte,” he said, leaning against the doorway to the annoyance of Gerald who was waiting to close it, “to a date, that is.”

  Charlotte knew he was teasing her and smiled. It would be agreeable to spend more time with one of Thaddeus’s friends.

 

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