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

by Baily, Sydney Jane

  “At the party, it looked to me as if Farnsworth would be happy to take up some of that time,” Charles Greene said good-humoredly, leaning back in his chair and pushing his horn-rimmed glasses further up his nose.

  When Charlotte only smiled politely, he continued, “But to tell you the truth, I had a letter from Frank Hudson and would have sought you out even if we had not had the fortuitous circumstance of being introduced at the Tremont. Hud and I have known each other for many years. I understand you did some excellent work for his paper recently.”

  By the time they finished lunch—oysters, which Charlotte moved around on her plate dubiously without being able to eat a single one, and thin buttery chowder with parsley on top, of which she finished every delicious drop—she had an assignment that would keep her busy over the next few weeks.

  Her first instinct as she parted from Charles Greene was to locate Reed and tell him of her good fortune. Instead, she directed the driver toward her aunt’s house. Alicia greeted her with the news that Jason had sent a supper invitation.

  “Anything else?” Charlotte asked as she removed her hat and gloves.

  “What more do you want the boy to do,” Alicia asked, “issue a marriage proposal after knowing you barely more than a week? Not that it would be the first time that has happened to a Randall.”

  “Oh, gracious, no,” Charlotte protested; a marriage proposal was the last thing she wanted, at least from Jason.

  “No, I meant is there nothing from anyone else?”

  “No, dear,” Alicia answered, then looked at her with a shrewd gaze. “Were you expecting someone else’s card?”

  Charlotte was treading into dangerous territory. “Of course not, though I expect after last night’s party, there will be other people with whom I can socialize. I don’t want to spend an excessive amount of time with Jason. It will give people the wrong impression.”

  “Just so.” Alicia smiled approvingly. “But Mr. Farnsworth is known as one of the best sort. Or at least his family is, so I don’t see any harm. Now, why don’t we sit down and you can tell me all about your luncheon with Mr. Greene.”

  Charlotte was of two minds all afternoon: should she go out with Jason again that evening or turn him down? She hated to encourage him, and he seemed to think their friendship was progressing along toward something more. She didn’t, however, want to make Alicia suspicious, particularly after the compromising scene her aunt had walked in on that morning.

  Besides, Reed knew where she was staying; he could have extended an invitation if he so chose. If he began to court her slowly, then Alicia would have no complaints, but for the time being, it looked as if he wasn’t going to court her at all.

  Charlotte sank into a hot bath after sending an acceptance along to Jason at the last possible minute. It was partly out of spite, she was sure. As she lathered herself all over with her aunt’s best-smelling soap, she could not deny that she hoped Reed would find out that she was going out on the town.

  She sighed. Why was she even playing games? What she truly wanted was to be with Reed, not trying to make the man jealous, if that were even possible.

  Letting Alicia choose, Charlotte was soon dressed in her new black gown. “The palatine cape will be ideal,” Alicia added, taking the black satin out of Charlotte’s wardrobe just as there was a light tap at the door.

  “Come in,” they both said at once.

  “Mr. Farnsworth is here,” Bridget said in her Irish lilt. Then she gasped. “Oh, miss, don’t you look lovely.”

  Charlotte could not get used to having a servant. She would love to be able to tell Bridget all about her strong feelings for a certain lawyer, but she knew it was impossible. Charlotte could only let the girl finish her hair before following her aunt down the stairs.

  Jason’s carriage at night, with its five lamps shining brightly on the polished exterior, was impressive, no matter how many times Charlotte saw it. As he helped her in, she decided to have a splendid evening and not think of anything, or anyone, else.

  Jason was an easy companion, quick to laugh, though somewhat cynical in his jokes and remarks. Oddly enough, what Charlotte found most acceptable about his company was that she felt nothing for him.

  It answered a question that had been nagging at her—whether she had latched on to Reed simply because he was the first man to pay her any attention.

  But here was a fine-looking man, both attentive and interesting, paying her all kinds of compliments. Yet for all his gallantry and dashing good looks, Jason caused no flutter in the pit of her stomach, no tingling across her skin.

  “First stop,” Jason said, “the Gaiety Theatre.”

  “Oh, the ballet,” Charlotte exclaimed. “It’s my first time.”

  “I hope we can share many firsts,” he told her. She colored, but let him take her hand as she climbed out of his carriage. Inside the theatre, the women looked like jewels, and Charlotte could barely contain her excitement as they were escorted to the Farnsworth family’s box seats.

  As the curtain rose for the first time, Jason glanced at her then touched her hand. “Charlotte, are you all right?”

  She let out her breath in a rush then gasped for more. “I was just holding my breath,” she told him, “I am so excited.”

  Hours later, Charlotte felt as if the music were still playing in her head while they ate a late-night supper. “It has been a magnificent evening, Jason. I can’t thank you enough. What superb dancers they were.”

  “The night is not finished yet, dear Charlotte.”

  Over drinks at the Parker House, Jason introduced Charlotte to some of his friends. She was again reminded of Reed’s promise to show her around Boston and felt another twinge of guilt.

  Any remorse vanished seconds later when, to her astonishment, Reed entered the lounge with a stunning woman—dark-haired like Helen but more freshly beautiful and far less artful.

  It made Charlotte’s heart sink. Seemingly, Boston was full of good-looking women. Reed probably knew all of them.

  Jason broke off the conversation he was having with a friend to his left and said to her, “Reed Malloy. Twice in one day. Do you know that woman accompanying him?”

  She didn’t bother to deny where her interest and her glance were wandering. She merely shook her head. Jason smiled, as if he were about to partake of a particularly delectable meal.

  “It is my understanding that Mr. Malloy is engaged to the widow Belgrave. You remember her, from the party? A striking woman—too polished for my taste—akin to embracing marble, I should think. Considered a snob, too.”

  He looked over at Reed and his companion again. “Still, the woman probably has feelings that could be hurt, if only she knew.”

  Charlotte didn’t want to hear anything more. Naturally, Jason assumed that Reed was being unfaithful to Helen, and it made her blood boil. If he was going to be unfaithful, he was supposed to do so with her! Suddenly, she felt foolish indeed, comparing herself to the woman with whom he was deep in conversation.

  They were laughing and speaking earnestly; it reminded her of how it used to be between them in Spring City, in her study, on her porch, in her bed. Her thoughts turned to escape, immediately and without Reed seeing her.

  “Jason, I’m fatigued, especially after last night. We retire much earlier where I’m from.”

  He glanced down at her pale face. “How thoughtless of me, dearest. Come along, I’ll get you home in a snap. Gentleman, ladies,” he addressed the small group with whom they’d been sitting. “You will excuse us while I take my charming companion home.”

  Charlotte was glad to see her aunt’s doorway again. As Jason walked her up the steps, she gave him the promise he always demanded to see him again soon.

  “Are you all right, Charlotte? You seem too quiet, not your normal self, ever since we left my friends.”

  “I’m just weary.” It wasn’t a lie. She’d been burning her candle at both ends of the day, up early and up late. “It’s not every d
ay I have such an important luncheon meeting and then follow it up with the ballet and supper out. What a life I’m leading.”

  “There are certainly more evenings such as this in your future, if I have anything to do with it.” He took her slender hand in his. “You are a most interesting woman, and I would be happy to take you to the ballet and have you at my supper table for the rest of my days.”

  Jason’s tone sounded serious, too serious, and utterly unlike his usual over-the-top style. And then, he leaned down, and it didn’t look as if he were aiming for her cheek.

  She started to move into the open doorway, but his other hand reached out to stop her. There was no Gerald coming to her rescue tonight, it seemed, and Aunt Alicia had to be deeply asleep by now, too.

  His lips came down on hers seconds later, before she even had time to protest. His kiss was hard and wet, and the feeling that went through her was one of alarm, not pleasure. She froze.

  He lifted his head after only a moment and she drew a breath.

  “Jason, you have overstepped yourself, but I fear it is my own fault. You have misunderstood my—”

  “I meant no offense,” he said hurriedly, and immediately she was looking into the contrite face of the jovial man she’d come to think of as a friend. “I merely wanted to express my deep regard for you, Charlotte.”

  “That’s . . . that’s quite all right.”

  She had to fight off the urge to wipe her mouth in front of him.

  “Please, don’t think ill of me.”

  “No, no, of course not.”

  “God, Charlotte, if I’ve ruined the attachment between us—” He broke off, looking distraught and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just that I feel so strongly for you.” She could see now that he was genuinely sorry for taking such liberty with her.

  “It’s fine.”

  “I will never do it again . . . until you give me permission.”

  “I’ll see you again, soon, Jason.”

  He reminded her of her promise to do just that, and then he was gone.

  Relieved to shut and lock the door behind her, she didn’t fight the impulse any longer but rubbed her gloved hand across her lips. It had been nothing like Reed’s kiss, nothing at all. And she hadn’t needed it to happen, either, to know that it wouldn’t be. In her heart, Charlotte was certain that no other man’s kiss could make her feel the way Reed’s did.

  The house was quiet as she tiptoed up the stairs. She paused only a moment on the landing when the first scream rent the night’s silence. She was up the second staircase and in the nursery in a flash, the sound familiar to her, as it now was to Bridget, Lacey, and Aunt Alicia, too.

  “Thomas,” she said, then again, more loudly, as she reached his bedside. He was thrashing from side to side, but she knew what to do. With a little shaking, she awakened him, bleary eyed with his lower lip beginning to quiver.

  “I had a bad dream,” he told her, as Bridget came in at a run, still pulling her wrap around her slender shoulders.

  “I know,” Charlotte told him, gently stroking his forehead. “But remember, it was only a dream. And whenever you have it again, someone who loves you will be here straightaway to bring you out of it. Isn’t that right, Bridget?”

  “Yes, miss.”

  Just then, Lily’s small form appeared, silhouetted in the open doorway. She came right in and climbed into bed with her brother. “I’m glad you’re home, Aunt Charlotte,” Lily said. “I was worried.”

  Charlotte felt a lump in her throat. How could she ever have thought of these two children as a burden?

  “Do you want to sleep with Thomas?” Charlotte asked. Lily nodded.

  “Would you like that, Thomas?” Thomas only smiled in answer as his sister hugged him. “All right then, but no talking. I want you both to go straight to sleep.”

  She needn’t have issued her dire warning, Charlotte realized; they were asleep before she even closed the door.

  “Poor little guy,” Bridget said, yawning widely. “Good night, miss.” And she headed down the hall to her room. Charlotte dimmed all the lights on the third floor and went back down stairs.

  In her own room, she removed her cape and put it carefully in the wardrobe. Her head was spinning; she should have felt nothing but excitement at seeing her first ballet. But all she could think about was Reed, out on the town with another woman.

  She recognized a bone-deep jealousy that frightened her. Would it have been better if it had been Helen? At least, she was not a mystery.

  Lighting one low lamp, she sat for a while in the chair by the window and thought how, in such a short span of time, her whole world had changed. If it all fell apart tomorrow, could she see herself returning to Spring City, living alone in her parents’ old house, and never again feeling the way she felt when she was with Reed?

  It made her shudder to imagine the loneliness and emptiness that awaited her there. She heaved a deep sigh and got up.

  Undressing as quickly as her layers allowed, Charlotte put on a clean white chemise, noticing while she did that Lacey had turned down her bed. It was pure bliss, she thought, falling into the puffy down mattress.

  Leaning over to put out the lamp, she heard a noise from the balcony which stopped her. She was not a fainthearted soul by nature, but all her fears of Boston came rushing upon her as the evils of the city seemed to be suddenly at her door.

  Chapter Twenty

  Charlotte could see a dark shape on her balcony just as the handle started to turn. With a small cry, she jumped out of bed and was nearly at her door when she heard a familiar voice.

  “Shh, Charlotte,” Reed hushed her, slipping into her room, leaving the door slightly ajar to the moonlit night. The gentle breeze from the garden carried with it the scent of roses, mingled with the aroma of sandalwood. She leaned against the door to the hallway, her heart still pounding from the jolt of fear.

  “By the horn spoons! If my aunt were to catch you,” she whispered, and trailed off, thinking of the terrible and irrevocable consequences.

  “She won’t,” he whispered back, approaching her calmly as if they were meeting for tea in broad daylight. Had he completely lost his faculties? She thought of the last place she’d seen him, at the lounge with an attractive woman, and of the things a man might do when buoyed up with a little liquor . . . or maybe a lot.

  “Do you have a brick in your hat?”

  He froze in his tracks.

  “I would answer that if I had any idea what it meant.”

  She sighed, “Did you drink too much at the Parker House?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.” So he had seen her.

  “You could,” she said, as quietly as possible, “except I’m not the one creeping into your bedroom at night like a fox in a hen house.”

  He smiled, his eyes taking in every inch of her from head to foot, as the evening breeze tickled her skin. She wished for her old gaping banyan—unflattering or not! Unfortunately, Alicia had banished it.

  Even in the dimness of her room, she saw the flare of desire in his eyes as he took in her sleeveless chemise and the sight of her long slender legs visible beneath the hem. Then his gaze moved upward to her nipples, which stood out like dusky moons against the virgin white fabric.

  Charlotte thought he would grab her to him right then—and she wanted him to. All her female modesty and her aunt-enforced morality aside, she wanted Reed to gather her up in his arms and kiss her soundly.

  “Perhaps I’m here simply to be certain you made it home safely.” He moved forward, just enough to reach out one finger and stroke it down the bare flesh of her arm, and then, equally slowly, he brushed it across the taut fabric covering one nipple.

  She gasped and pressed herself flatter against the hard grain of the wooden door, even while she felt the passion spiral low in her hips. She wasn’t sure about this Reed; he seemed . . . dangerous. Shivering, she hugged herself tightly.

  “I made it home.”

  �
�Evidently.” His eyebrows slanted up. “You’ve been busy. Out with two men in one day.” His tone was cool.

  Her anger flared as quickly as her desire had.

  “You’ve been spying on me?” she accused incredulously, hugging herself more tightly.

  Perhaps he had forgotten he was dealing with a woman who had done for herself and been independent since she was fourteen. “I won’t stand for it, Reed. Besides, you looked rather busy yourself.”

  “Are you jealous?” he asked, the slightest of smiles playing at his lips.

  She only narrowed her eyes at him. Was he playing a game with her?

  “I am disconcerted that you were out with Helen last night, kissing me in the garden today, and out with another woman tonight. Do your passions run so fickle, Mr. Malloy?”

  He actually laughed at her, softly, in the pale light. The infernal man!

  “I assure you, Miss Sanborn,” he spoke her name as a caress, while uncoiling her left arm from across her slender frame, capturing her hand in his own and planting it firmly next to her head on the door behind her. “You have entirely engaged my passions and have no need to worry about fickleness on my part.”

  Clearly, he wasn’t pleased with her outings. Indeed, it was becoming obvious that he was equally jealous of her evening’s companion as she was of his. He bent his head to kiss her exposed neck.

  “Reed,” she said, her voice husky with warning, as she leaned away from him, pushing against his chest with her free hand. She might as well have pushed against a brick wall. He merely smiled again and, taking her hand in his, pressed it against the door on the right side of her head.

  “The woman I was with,” he continued, as his thumb stroked her wrist absently, causing her mouth to go completely dry, “is someone I’ve mentioned to you before.” He paused, looking at her lips before turning his head to drop a kiss on her shoulder. “My oldest sister, Elise, whom I will gladly introduce to you someday soon.”

  His sister! Charlotte would have thought that Jason was acquainted with all the Malloys, yet he had seemed not to know her.