Why did it seem like her mother was intent on locating them husbands and rushing them down the aisle? What was in it for her?
"Not pushing. Just trying to make certain they have a good foundation for a great life."
Her father grunted, which always irritated her mother. "When the right man comes along, they will find out about marriage. For my girls, I would rather they find someone who makes them happy instead of a man who's got money. Let them marry for love."
This emotion called love. While she knew poets and novelists had written much about the feeling, she'd never experienced it and frankly was in no hurry.
After all, from what she witnessed from happily wedded couples, the woman was tied to the man and his wishes. All Meg wanted was to design beautiful dresses.
"Did you love me when you married me?" her mother asked.
All three girls looked between their parents. Sometimes Meg thought they were madly in love and other times she didn't think they even liked each other.
Papa reached out and took her mother's hand. "More than you would ever know. Don't you remember how you drove me crazy and I couldn't wait to say I do and take you home to Colorado.”
A blush spread across her mother's face as she smiled tentatively. "John, not in front of the girls."
"Why? Soon they're going to understand the nature of men with the way you're hunting for husbands."
It was true, if Meg wasn't careful, her mother would find some way to get her married off, not caring about her own dreams. When she had a moment, she needed to talk to her father and confirm he would help her reach New York.
Because there was no husband in her future.
Chapter 4
Another debutante ball, in another city with countless mothers throwing their daughters at him like he was a prize. Little did they know his father controlled the wealth and he was as poor as a pauper because Martin Scott refused to do his father's bidding.
No, he didn't want to go into politics. No, he didn't want to be a lawyer. No, he didn't work on his father’s railroad.
At this point in his life, he wasn't certain of his destiny, only that he wanted nothing to do with his father’s business. Or someone like his stepmother.
For his father, Clara was the perfect hostess and partner, but Warren didn't want a cold woman who wanted only to outdo the next fancy party. Who lived and breathed the upper echelon of society. Who was as fake on the inside as she was on the outside.
Sorry, but in Durango, it felt like the people gathered tonight were all actors playing at being rich.
Glancing around the hotel ballroom, he stood looking at the eligible young women across the room. After they were paraded through the room, he’d met at least ten beautiful, well-adorned girls who giggled and flirted with him, wearing their catch a husband smile.
If only they knew he preferred well-experienced ladies who understood what they were getting into when they went to dinner with him. Elegant women who were looking for the same as him. A nice meal, a fun night, and if possible, some time in bed together sharing the pleasures of the flesh.
Nothing permanent. Nothing serious. No wedding bells or happily ever after.
Another mother walked toward him, bringing her daughter, and he turned to look for an escape. In a hallway, he opened a door and entered a library. Not many hotels had libraries, but this one was an exception.
With a sigh, he helped himself to a glass of whiskey and stood in front of the windows gazing out at the snow covered mountains.
Darkness slunk in from the east as clouds gathered, obliterating the sun. With a sense of foreboding, he stared, worried those ominous clouds warned of a storm coming.
The thought of being stuck at this ball with a group of young virgin queens, where a mother waited for him to accidentally touch an innocent ending his bachelor days forever, scared the hell out of him.
The door opened and he stepped behind the curtains hoping they wouldn't see him.
“Meg, you are the most obstinate child ever."
"Yes, you've told me that before," a beautiful woman with dark hair accented with tints of auburn replied. From his vantage point, the young lady was stunning.
Creamy soft skin with full ripe lips for kissing and a peach dress that clung to her slim breasts with a tiny waist. Now that was a woman he wouldn't mind toying with.
But she was obviously one of the virgin queens.
"Not once have you gone over to the tycoon’s son and introduced yourself. This is your chance of meeting and marrying a man who has money and power and everything a woman could want."
Boy, did this momma have it wrong. Martin was about as powerless as they came because his father supervised everything, with the promise it would continue as long as he didn't do what his father bid. Martin could be just stubborn enough not to mind the man.
"How many times have I told you I'm not interested in getting married. The man could be wealthier than the king of England and still I would not want to walk down the aisle. Mother, when are you going to listen to me and hear what I want?"
Martin peered out from behind the drapes and stared at the woman whose face radiated red. The beautiful woman didn't want to ensnare a husband? How unusual.
“Meg, you don't understand. A woman must find a man who can take care of her or she could live the worst life ever. Believe me, you come from a poor Irish family. Because I married your father, your life is much better than mine was. This way you will never have to work for a living."
Typical debutante mother. Pushing her daughter on some unsuspecting man because she thought he was rich. Never before had he considered the woman's side of courtship. Especially one who didn't want to rush to the chapel.
"Maybe I'd like to have a job. Maybe I want to be a designer."
Why would she want to hold a job? What kind of designer was she talking about?
The mother didn't respond but stood facing her daughter. "I'm giving you five minutes to get out there and flirt with that young man. When you come out that door, I want to see you smiling and laughing and teasing. By the end of the night, I want Mr. Scott to approach your father and ask to court you. Do you understand me?"
Silence. And he knew the stubborn woman was digging in her heels, not ready to acquiesce. And he couldn’t blame her.
"If not, I will not let you go into town and visit Madame Juliette.”
"You wouldn't," she hissed.
When they rode down the main street to the hotel, he'd seen the shop. The woman was upset about not being able to go to a dressmaker? Maybe she was like all the other debutantes. Maybe she wanted pretty dresses at any costs.
"I can be just as stubborn as you," the mother said almost gleefully. She whirled around and walked out the door.
The beautiful young woman stomped her foot almost roaring her frustration. For a second, he watched her mini temper tantrum, then he stepped out from behind the curtains, laughing.
"Don't worry," he said grinning. "The girls tell me I'm good at flirting, and I don't want to get married either."
With a quick swivel, she turned and faced him, her forehead and brows frowning. "You were there the entire time?"
"Heard it all," he said, sipping at his drink, enjoying her obvious embarrassment. “Martin Scott, at your service."
“Grimany," she said, holding her hand up to her mouth in shock.
"We'll make your mother happy. We'll flirt and laugh and even dance several times. But I'm not going to ask your father if I can court you. That would be carrying our adventure just a little too far."
The expression on her agitated face as he tried to hold in his laughter was priceless. The woman did not appreciate him hiding as she stood across the room, staring at him.
She picked up a book and hurled it at him.
He ducked. Good thing the woman didn't want to marry; she had a temper.
"Of all the humiliating things to happen in my life, this is the worst. A gentleman would have made his presence known."
No way would he have come out while her mother scolded her. No telling what the woman would have said or done.
"Nobody said I was a gentleman. And listening to someone else's parent yell at them besides mine, I found very enjoyable. For once I'm not on the hot seat."
That remark earned a second book thrown at him, which clipped him on the shoulder. "Ouch."
Hands on her hips, she glared at him, her emerald eyes flashing with anger. "Do you think I wanted you to know my mother insisted on me flirting with you."
Of course not, but it was the first bright spot in a long dreary evening. A chuckle escaped him as he grinned at her. "No, but it's kind of funny. At least one woman here is not gunning for me. We should spend the night dancing and making tongues wag since we both agree marriage is not for us."
The woman threw her hands up. "That's it. I’ve had enough.”
Lifting her silk skirts, giving him just a glance at a trim ankle, she hurried out of the room.
As she left, he raised his glass to her. "Now, honey, you are a woman I would enjoy pursuing since I'm not what you want. We'll never know if there was the possibility of something between us."
Chapter 5
Meg’s face felt flushed, her blood rushed through her veins like the river after the snow melted. Never had she experienced such embarrassment and humiliation in all her life. How could she banter with this man after he heard her mother insisting she flirt outrageously with him or lose the things that made her the happiest, her fashion catalogs.
Fleeing the library, she saw her mother greeting people at the door. She couldn't return to the ballroom, she couldn't run out the door, so she headed up the stairs, lifting her silk skirt and all but running. Maybe Edith was still in her room. Maybe she would help her escape this insane situation.
On the second floor, she threw open the door to Edith’s empty hotel bedroom. Where was her friend?
At this moment, she needed Edith’s quiet reassurance as she paced the rug. The man's taunting words echoed through her brain. Now he knew she didn't want to play ballroom games. All she wanted was to go to school in New York. Leave the ranch and experience life, not become someone's wife.
And her mother would never accept that a rich man taking care of her wasn't enough. Maybe the time had come for her to go out on her own. After all, she was twenty years old, she had a little money saved and her father would send her more once she reached New York.
If she left now, she wouldn't be forced to face Martin Scott or her mother again. Drawn to the window, she glanced out at the trellis, where in the spring and summer roses climbed.
The roses were no longer in bloom, but the thorns remained on the leafless vine. Darkness greeted her, but she wasn't afraid.
Once she reached the ground, she would go to the train station and buy a ticket to New York. The time to fulfill her dreams would happen just a little earlier than expected.
Determination roared through her as she raised the glass, and a cold blast of frigid air hit her. A quick glance down at the ground had her reconsidering if she was being foolish. Snow fell and the wind howled. Maybe she should wait.
The memory of her mother and that horrid man had her throwing her leg over the frame.
Raising her dress, she prayed the tulle fabric would not get snagged on a thorn as she found the first rung. Years ago, she had climbed the rose trellis at home.
The wind howled and rattled the trellis. What was she doing? But her future was at stake.
Just like when she was a kid, she could do this and soon would be on a train heading out of Colorado. Away from marriage, to the life she desired.
For a moment, she sat there trembling before she finally let go of the hotel. Her hand gripped the railing as she took another step down and then another. On the fourth rung, a thorn sank into her hand and she released the railing, shifting her weight to the side.
A cracking noise alerted her just as the wood beneath her foot gave way and the trellis swayed away from the hotel.
Panic seized her chest, as screaming, she plunged from the trellis, falling through the air and landing with a thump into a man's arms. Anxious, she slowly opened her eyes and gazed into the bluest eyes this side of the territory scowling at her.
"You," he said with a growl, "are nothing but trouble."
Embarrassed, she realized the hem of her full skirt was around her neck exposing her pantaloons and his hand lay on her thigh.
The back door to the hotel flung open and several men ran outside with a lantern, along with one woman. Her mother.
“Meg,” her mother said. "What have you done?"
Not are you all right, are you hurt, or you could have died, but what have you done? Really?
Yanking her skirt down, she tried to stand on her own two feet, but he held her fast. This was not what she wanted her mother to see.
"Nothing."
“Sidney,” her mother screamed. “Sidney, get out here and defend our daughter's honor."
The snow began to come down harder, like the heavens were crying for her.
Meg’s feet landed on the ground and she turned to her mother. "No, Mother. Nothing happened. I fell from the window and Mr. Scott caught me."
Her mother ran to her side, she grabbed her by the arm. "Your dress was above your head. What did this scoundrel do to you? Your father will make certain he makes an honest woman of you."
"No, Mother, no," Meg cried, looking at Martin, pleading for him to help her.
In the dark, his blue eyes appeared colder than ice. "Very clever, Miss Trippe. It seems you wanted my attention after all."
Chapter 6
“Sidney, you know what you must do to save your daughter's reputation," the old witch said, and Martin immediately disliked this pushy woman. At this point, he wasn't certain of anything except that he'd been tricked.
Stepping outside to clear his head of what had just transpired in the library, he walked right into this woman's plan to snag her daughter a husband.
When he heard the scream, he ran around the corner, in time to catch Miss Trippe from seriously injuring herself in a fall. While he didn't wish her harm, he also had no intentions of marrying the woman.
The wind and cold forced them all inside to the library where only minutes before the woman declared she didn’t want to marry. And yet here they were.
"Mother, nothing happened. Mr. Scott saved me from hitting the ground. He caught me."
"Dear, it may seem innocent to you, but your dress was above your head when we all came outside to see who was screaming. And his hands... Your reputation has been ruined and now this scoundrel must marry you. I insist."
The old witch could insist all she wanted, but he would never marry their daughter.
“Nellie, stop," her father said before he looked at Mr. Scott. "While I think that nothing untoward happened with my daughter, I'm going to insist that you marry her."
"Papa," Meg said with a cry, "you know this is not what I want. You promised me I could go to New York. You said you would help me."
The woman began to softly cry, and Martin had an incredible urge to comfort her. The two were being railroaded into something neither of them wanted. Or was it? Twice now, she said she didn't want to marry and yet the mother was demanding they say I do.
"What?" the girl's mother said. "Absolutely not. My daughter is not leaving the state. I forbid it. We insist you marry Mr. Scott.”
With regret, Martin turned and gazed at his father, Benjamin who had joined them in the library, hating asking for his assistance. "Are you going to help me?"
His father sighed. "Son, this might be for the best. After all, the girl's reputation is ruined. How many times have I told you to stay inside and tend to business? Not go out in the garden gallivanting with a young woman."
Martin clenched his fists, anger surging through his body like a flash flood of pure hate. Because he stepped outside to get away from the pimping mothers, he would now be forced to marry a wo
man he saved.
"If I hadn't gone outside, she would have fallen to her death from that second-floor window," he said and then glanced at her. "Why were you crawling out the window?"
"To escape you," she said with an angry retort.
A groan escaped his throat. Her choice of words did not help them.
The window rattled from the force of the wind as the storm now raged outside, much like Martin inside. As he stared at the people in the room, he knew there was no getting out of this. They had circled him like a group of wagons, pinning him down.
Glancing at Meg, he saw tears streaming down her cheeks. For saving the troublesome woman, they would be tied to each other for eternity.
The room was silent as all eyes stared at him, pressuring him to make a decision.
"All right, I'll marry the girl," he said, thinking how could ever make this into a happy union. The woman was beautiful, daring, and yet she stood next to her mother crying and shaking her head.
"Noooo," she cried. "I'll get the marriage annulled," she said, her voice turning defiant. "This is not what I want."
Neither one of them wanted this, but both sets of parents seemed determined they would marry.
With a smile, her mother patted her on the arm. “Meg, put aside your childish dreams and accept this is your destiny. You're going to be the wife of a very important man. The preacher is here. Your friends are here, I think we should do this tonight."
Great, they weren't even going to give them time to sleep on it. The wedding would happen tonight, right now.
"No," Meg cried. "Mother, I will never forgive you for what you're doing."
Her mother tried to wrap her arm around her daughter, but she pushed her away.
"Dear, someday you'll thank me for saving your reputation."
The girl turned away from her mother and Martin realized this would be a tense night.
The preacher stepped forward. "We can perform the ceremony, right now."
"Papa, stop them," she cried.
The Debutante's Scandal: Western Historical Romance (Debutantes of Durango Book 4) Page 2