Fate's Intervention (3 page)

What had her
father
been thinking, inviting him into their home to court her? Well, if she had anything to do with it, he
’
d been waddling from this room screaming in the next minute or two. She had that profound effect on unwanted suitors.
That made her smile. She couldn
’
t smile for real though, or he may think her amiable.

She pasted on the same brainless, dim-witted smile she
’
d displayed for her
father
,
and then
stepped forward, into his view. Stanharbor noticed the movement and turned from the French window. Her smile, however perfectly rehearsed, nearly slipped when she realized he wasn
’
t paying the least bit of attention to her smile
–
or anything from the neck up. Instead, he pinned his gaze greedily to her bosom, gawking at
them,
as would a starving man a five-course meal. Well,
men may not consider her a spring chicken
any
longer
, but
it was apparent that her
body was still in good enough shape to spark this man
’
s appetite. In fact, it tended to spark every suitor
’
s appetite, for
all responded in a similar fashion
, if not quite so bold.

Without a doubt, he definitely had to go
–
and quick. Just like the others.
Sorry,
Father
,
she said tacitly before moving closer to her caller.

“
Mr. Stanharbor, is it?
”
She asked, trying to keep the irritation from her voice.
At
least the address brought his attention to bear on where it should be
–
her face.

“
Clifford Stanharbor at your service, Miss
Weatherman
,
”
he said gallantly, bowing formally. Marcelle noted that it was an elegant attempt and probably would have been quite graceful, once. Now, his bulk impeded that grace and he simply looked as if he would tip, head over heels.
She cringed, praying silently that his clothes didn
’
t pop off, as she feared.

“
Would you
care for
some
light
refreshment, Mr. Stanharbor?
”
Marcelle asked cordially, noticing the absence of a serving tray. She hoped he caught the word
‘
light
’
, as she doubted whether they had enough food in the pantry for his normal eating habits.

“
Please, call me Clifford, and yes, some lemonade and scones
sound delightful
.
Taking a long drive along dusty trails does tend to leave a man parched. I had to leave quite early to make it here at a
reason
able hour, and haven
’
t been offered anything since arriving.
”

Marcelle caught the insult, but chose not to respond. Still, she did wonder why
Nancy
had failed to offer anything prior to her joining their guest in the parlor. It simply wasn
’
t like her.

Nonetheless, feasting your eyes on my breasts is not going to quench your thirst and is just as rude as not being offered refreshments
, Marcelle thought, wanting dearly to express the sentiment aloud, but refrained. If she was too rude, he may leave before she
’
d had her bit of sport.

“
Please, do have a seat,
”
Marcelle pointed to the settee, grimaced as it protested under his heavy weight,
and then
reached for the summoning cord. Moments later,
Nancy
appeared in the doorway.

“
Yes, Miss?
”

“
Please bring some lemonade and a few scones for our guest, Nancy.
”

“
Yes, Miss.
”

Nancy
pulled the door closed behind her and Marcelle turned back to her caller. With an overemphasized sway to her hips, she sashayed over to the window seat. Controlling the urge to laugh, she turned, spread her voluminous
skirts,
and plopped down. Without a pause, she lifted her legs slightly, shifted the skirt out of the
way,
and jammed her hands beneath her thighs.

As
she hoped, the gesture was not lost on Stanharbor.

“
Is anything amiss, my dear?
”
He asked, eyeing her strange sitting position.
“
A
re
you chilled? Perhaps you need a warming brick placed beneath your feet.
”

Marcelle
’
s smile
widened
.
Gotcha
! She thought.
Just a little longer and you
’
ll wish we
’
d never met, you
buffoon
in gentlemen
’
s clothing.

“
I
’
m perfectly warm, thank you, kind sir,
”
she
breathed
airily.
“
It
’
s just that I promised my
father
that I
’
d show restraint.
”

“
I
’
m not certain that I follow your meaning, dear
.
”

“
Well, my
father
seems to think I
’
m a threat to you
.
”
Marcelle laughed lightly, leaning forward slightly to give him a better view of her assets.
Keep him imbalanced
, she thought.
“
So
he made me promise to sit on my hands, and if for any
reason
I remove them from beneath my skirts, you are to yell as loud as you possibly can and he
’
ll come barreling through the doors and rescue you. Isn
’
t that simply the silliest thing you
’
ve ever heard?
”

Stanharbor
’
s gaze snapped to hers and his already rosy complexion grew flushed.
Now that got his attention
, she thought with glee.

Clifford searched her vacuous expression for a moment, trying to discern what game she was playing at, but could see nothing hidden in the depths of her dark brown eyes.

“
Why, that
’
s absurd!
”
He tittered nervously.
“
You
’
re merely
joshing
’
this old man, surely
?
Why to think, a young snip of a girl like you harming a man of my size. I
’
m as big as a barge. Just the idea of it is simply laughable.
”

Marcelle joined in the gaiety, making certain that her breasts jiggled
each time she laughed.
Time to go in for the kill
, she thought, mightily pleased with her little performance.

“
I agree wholeheartedly,
”
she continued to giggle,
“
A
nd
just so you know, I have absolutely no recollection what
so
ever of trying to skewer my last caller with my knitting needle. Can you just imagine?
”

“
A
. . . a what?
”
Stanharbor choked, his humor vanishing.

“
Knitting needle,
”
Marcelle said, happy to repeat her statement.

“
Knitting needle?
”

“
U
h
huh, but you needn
’
t worry, my
father
confiscated all my knitting needles and now only allows me access to them when no one else is in the house. Of
course,
he can
’
t completely empty a room when someone comes to call, so I have to sit on my hands. It kind of reminds me to behave myself.
”

“
But I don
’
t understand, my dear. Why would you skewer someone with a knitting
needle?
”

You asked.
Her mind answered, joyfully ready to supply the answer.
“
Well, as I said, I simply don
’
t have any recollection of doing so, but my
father
says it was because the man who came to call on me wouldn
’
t stop ogling my breasts, and that apparently upset me a great deal.
”

“
Well, that would explain a lot,
”
Stanharbor
mumbled
beneath his breath.

“
I
’
m sorry, Clifford, I missed that. What did you say?
”
Marcelle
batted her eyes, wide with innocence
. She heard what he said and she had not a doubt that his statement was referencing her age and continued unmarried state. He obviously
concluded
that her mental state had something to do with both.

Stanharbor
rocked to a standing position
and
waddled
over to retrieve his hat.

“
A
re
you leaving so soon?
”
Marcelle stood and hastened toward the coat rack. Stanharbor froze in mid-stride.

“
I can retrieve my own possessions, Miss
Weatherman
, if you
’
d be so kind as to remain seated while I do so.
”

“
Oh, I don
’
t mind
.
”
Marcelle
continued
d
oggedly
toward the coat rack. She reached for the hat and coat, but a loud bang startled her and she turned. The parlor door was ajar and Mr. Stanharbor was gone.

Marcelle strained
to hear the conversation coming from
the foyer,
grinning widely
. She could hear her
father
’
s soothing voice attempting to console an irate Mr. Stanharbor.

“
It
’
s no wonder no one will take that girl!
”
Stanharbor yelled loud enough to be heard six counties over.
“
I should have you arrested for trying to pawn that dangerous simpleton off on me.
”

Marcelle
’
s
grin
faded at that
comment
. Simpleton, was she? Hardly. She
’
d managed to outwit that brainless moron.

The door adjoining the hall opened suddenly and
Nancy
strolled in, tray in hand. She glanced around and
laughed quietly.

“
Gone, is he, Miss?
”
She asked.

“
In the hall with
Father
,
”
Marcelle smiled.

“
Well, I guess I
’
ll go and feed this to the young
’
uns.
”
Nancy
said and turned to leave.

“
Nancy?
”

“
Yes, Miss?
”

“
Why didn
’
t you offer Mr. Stanharbor refreshments earlier? He was sitting here quite some time, waiting on me.
”

“
Oh, I do apologize, Miss. I hadn
’
t realized it was all that long. I never get refreshments for your callers, or hadn
’
t you noticed before now?
”

“
Not really, but
why ever
not?
”