Bicycle Built for Two (8 page)

“You see this line?” Kate asked her
victim—rather, her client—tracing a line on the older woman’s palm
as she spoke. “The depth of this line indicates that your family
connections will remain strong throughout your life. Any time you
see a line this deep and well-defined, you can be sure it means
permanence—or as close to permanence as one can get in this life.”
A smile flickered across her pretty mouth.

The older woman’s smile came and stayed.
“Oh, I’m so glad. I do so love my children and family.”

“Yes.” Kate lightly tapped the woman’s palm.
“I can tell. And this,” she went on, indicating another part of the
woman’s fleshy hand, “indicates to me that you don’t want for much
in the way of material goods.”

“My husband is a very generous man,” the
woman said, her voice complacent.

“I can tell.” Kate, on the other hand,
sounded as if she’d just drunk vinegar. “How lucky you are.”

Alex wasn’t sure what to make of it. On the
one hand, he found the older woman’s smug air of self-satisfaction
hard to take. To judge by her tone, she believed wealth and comfort
her due, as if her station in life was something she’d created with
her own soft hands; hands that were unused to hard work. Alex
imagined Kate found people like this woman trying, at best. He
recalled the face of Kate’s mother, and his own innards squinched a
little.

Poor Mrs. Finney. He’d done
a good deed yesterday; there was no denying it. He was proud of
himself. Now
he
had good reason to feel a degree of self-satisfaction today,
because he’d earned it. Unlike the woman simpering there across the
table from Kate. Kate’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“You will be happily married for many more
years.”

“Oh, my.” The woman giggled. “I’ll be sure
to tell Godfrey that.”

Godfrey, Alex supposed, was the woman’s
husband. Poor bastard.

But that was unkind. Alex didn’t know but
that Mrs. Godfrey Whatever was an admirable specimen of womankind
under her layers of fat and complacency. He eyed the woman again
and doubted it.

“And I do see a long trip for pleasure in
your future, too.” Kate’s voice was kind of like the purr of a cat,
Alex decided, when she was telling fortunes. When she spoke to him,
she sounded more like an infuriated tigress.

“Europe,” Mrs. Godfrey said with conviction.
“I’m sure Godfrey is going to surprise me with another trip to
Europe. Or perhaps this time, we’ll go to Egypt.”

“Really? I’d love to go to Europe. Or Egypt.
I’d love to see the Sphinx and the pyramids.” Kate’s voice had
taken on a wistful quality that made Alex’s heart twist
uncharacteristically. “I love reading about all the discoveries
people are making there.”

“It’s terribly dirty in Egypt,” Mrs. Godfrey
declared, as if dirt were something she cared not for. “Although
Shepheard’s is a rather nice hotel.”

“Ah,” said Kate. She sat back in her chair
and released the woman’s hands. “That’s it, Mrs. Gentry. I see
nothing but good times ahead for you—barring the natural
unpleasantnesses that life has in store for all of us.”

Mrs. Godfrey Gentry’s chair scraped as she
pushed it away from the table. She got to her feet amid a fluff and
rustle of bombazine and petticoats. Aiming a glorious smile down at
Kate, as if she were bestowing a blessing upon an underling, she
said, “Thank you so much, Madame Katherine. You’re a wonderful
fortune-teller, my dear. I do believe you deserve more than you
charged me.” She fished in her large handbag and produced a coin,
which she held out to Kate.

Although he wasn’t sure why, Alex bridled on
Kate’s behalf. That dashed Gentry woman was speaking to her as if
Kate were a servant in her mansion or something.

“Thank you very much. I appreciate your
generosity.” Kate rose, too, without scraping her chair and without
a rustle or a fluff. Alex wasn’t surprised. She was amazingly
graceful for a girl out of the— Alex stopped himself before he
could pass another judgment on Kate Finney because of her
unfortunate birth. Her family, as she had been quick to point out
to him more than once, wasn’t her fault.

And, really, her mother had been quite
pleasant. Obviously, the woman had deplorable sense and no
discernment, or she’d never have ended up with Kate’s father, but
she still seemed a congenial woman. Unlike her daughter, who was
approximately as genial as stinging nettles. Alex rose from his
chair and bowed as Mrs. Gentry swept past him and out the door.

“Come with me.”

To his shock, Kate grabbed him by the coat
sleeve and tugged at it. He stared down at her in bemusement.
“Where? Why?”

In a harsh whisper, Kate said, “Darn it, we
need to talk, and we can’t do it while Madame’s working.”

Alex glanced around the booth. He’d managed
to overlook Madame and her client entirely, so engrossed had he
been with Kate and hers. He didn’t understand his oversight,
either, since Madame was much closer to his chair than Kate had
been. “Oh.” He reached for his hat. “I see.”

Kate marched him out of the booth, around to
the back, stopped walking and turned to face him. Alex had been
rather hoping she’d guide him to a concessionaire’s stand and take
a cup of tea with him or something, although he had no idea why. He
didn’t even like her. It was illogical for him to want to take tea
with the girl.

He didn’t understand why she’d narrowed her
eyes into mean-tempered slits and was now frowning up at him. It
was quite a way up at that, since he was a little over six feet
tall, and she was only slightly over the five-foot mark. It was the
first time he’d taken note of her lively blue eyes. They snapped
and sparkled in the sunlight, and made for an odd but intriguing
contrast to her Gypsy attire and dark makeup. Although he didn’t
really know anything about Gypsies, he’d always assumed they had
dark skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. Kate’s hair was a dark reddish
brown and her skin, except when she painted it, was fair. And she
had eyes the color of a clear summer sky. At the moment, she also
had her fists planted firmly on her hips and was standing braced
like a boxer about to punch an opponent out of the ring.

“How come you put my mother in a private
room?”

Alex caught his breath. He hadn’t
anticipated such a sudden and stark attack. Actually, he hadn’t
anticipated any kind of attack. He’d rather hoped for some thanks.
His lips thinned when he realized how silly it had been of him to
expect thanks from this quarter. He tried to keep his temper in
check. “Your mother is a very sick woman, Miss Finney.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Of course, you know it. But you can’t pay
for the best medical care for her. I can. It’s simple, really.”

“It’s not that simple, Mr. Alex English, and
you know it. Until yesterday, you didn’t know me from Adam—”

“Eve,” Alex corrected.

She stamped her foot. “Darn it, don’t you
dare laugh at me!”

He held his hands out in an I-give-up
gesture. “I’m not laughing, believe me. I’ve seldom felt less like
laughing.”

“Then answer my question!”

Alex gazed down at her for several
uncomfortable moments before he crossed his arms over his chest. He
wanted to understand her attitude, but it wasn’t easy to do. “Why
are you being so belligerent, Miss Finney?”

“I’m not belligerent!” she shouted.
Realizing she’d raised her voice, she hissed, “I’m not a fool,
either, Mr. Alex English. I want an answer.”

“Why do you call me Mr. Alex English, Miss
Finney. I don’t understand why you need to use my name as a
bludgeon. You may call me simply Mr. English, if you like. Or even
Alex, if you want—”

“I don’t.”

Alex smiled wryly. “Yes, I imagined you
wouldn’t, although I’m not sure why.”

“You’re not sure why?” Kate did a fairly
good job of looking incredulous, although Alex imagined nothing
much ever surprised her. She’d grown up in surroundings that killed
off most people before they got to be her age. He imagined she went
to great pains not to be surprised by anything—which might, he
thought suddenly, be one of the problems here.

“Listen, Miss Finney, I know we got off to a
rocky start—”

“Ha! You tried to throw me out of the
Exposition!”

He nodded with some comprehension. “I
didn’t, actually, but I understand why you might harbor that
opinion.”

“Nuts. You were going to make me leave
without even meeting me first, and you know it. You were going to
deprive me of my livelihood because my father’s a no-good son of a
bitch—er, gun, I mean. Darn it, don’t lie to me! And I want to know
why you put Ma in a private room!”

Alex hesitated and glanced at their
surroundings, hoping no one he knew would walk by. Dash it, why was
the woman getting so overwrought? It was embarrassing, standing out
here with her screaming at him like a fishwife. “Keep your voice
down, please, Miss Finney,” he whispered, hoping to inspire her by
example.

“Very well,” she whispered
back. “Why? Why? What do you want from me? Darn it, if you think
I’m one of
those
women, you’d just better think again!”

Alex goggled at her. “What is the name of
heaven are you talking about?”

Kate’s lips pressed together once, and Alex
could swear he saw the color creeping into her cheeks under all
that outlandish Gypsy paint. “Just answer me, will you? Why did you
put Ma in a private room?”

Hoping that honesty would keep her from
yelling again, Alex decided to tell the truth—as much of it as he
himself understood. In a loud whisper, he admitted, “I—Dash it, I
felt sorry for her.” Because he felt compelled to, he added, “And
you.”

The play of emotions on Kate’s face was
fascinating to behold. Alex clearly saw fury, shame, and pain chase
each other across her expressive countenance. He wasn’t happy to
behold any of them.

Kate’s voice shook when
next she spoke. “Don’t you
dare
feel sorry for me, Mr. Rich Man English. I don’t
need your damned pity!”

Alex, who never swore himself unless he was
alone, and who was shocked when he heard profanity fall from the
lips of gentlemen, was aghast when the word left Kate’s mouth.
“Well, really, there’s no need for—”

“What?” Her body had taken
to shaking in time with her voice. “What is there no need for? Me
to say
damn
? Or
your pity?”

“Dash it, I don’t pity you! I do feel very
sorry for your mother, and whether you want to admit it or not, I
can afford to pay for better medical care than you can!”

“But why?” Kate shouted.
“
Why
are you
paying for it?”

Damned if he knew. Alex couldn’t say that.
Especially not after being shocked at Kate for swearing. “I like
your mother, Miss Finney. She’s a—a very nice woman.”

“Yes,” Kate said, her voice still wobbling
precariously. “She is. But she’s nothing to you.”

“That’s not true. I met her. She’s in my
life now. I couldn’t—I can’t—” Alex felt helpless. He didn’t know
what had compelled him to help Mrs. Finney. “Dash it, she deserves
better.”

His astonishment when Kate wiped a tear from
her eye was totally unfeigned. He hadn’t believed the wench had a
tear in her.

“Yes,” she said. “She deserves better. She’s
always deserved better. But not from you.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Miss Finney! You’re
being ridiculous!”

“Am I?” Obviously, Kate Finney wasn’t one to
wallow in emotion. That single tiny tear was the only one she
allowed herself. She was back in full form immediately, and as
cranky as ever.

“Yes. If I want to pay for your mother to
have more comfortable surroundings, why should you object?”

“Because I don’t trust you.”

The flat statement,
rendered in a toneless voice, deprived Alex of thought for a
moment. “You—you—
what
?” Never, in his entire almost thirty years of life, had
anyone dared to say such a thing to him, because he’d never given
anyone reason to speak those words. He prided himself on his
trustworthiness. His honor. His integrity. His word was his oath,
dash it.

“I don’t trust you,” Kate repeated. “I don’t
believe anybody in the world, and especially not you, would do
something like that for my family.”

“For your mother,” Alex growled. The dashed
woman refused to understand. The fact that he didn’t understand,
either, didn’t make the situation any more comfortable.

“She’s my family.”

Alex acknowledged the truth of Kate’s
statement with a nod, but he didn’t want to.

“So,” Kate continued in her curiously flat
voice. “What I want to know now, is what do you want from me.”

Alex threw up his arms. “Nothing! For
heaven’s sake, Miss Finney, what do you take me for?”

“What do you take
me
for?” she countered.
“I’m not going to play house with you, if that’s what you’re
driving at.”

Alex’s mouth fell open. Kate’s color
deepened.

This time Alex’s voice shook. “I have never,
ever, been so offended, Miss Finney. If you think I’m the kind of
man who would—who would—who could— Oh, dash it!”

Kate didn’t say anything. She stood before
him, glaring up at him like some kind of madwoman, her small body
trembling with rage. And she believed him to be a cad. A depraved
rake. A bounder. He couldn’t stand it. “Come with me.”

And he took her by the arm and began
marching her off to a concession stand or a restaurant. He didn’t
care which, as long as it was nearby. She dug in her heels, but she
probably weighed a good fifty pounds less than he did, she was
almost a foot shorter, and she was no match for him when it came to
physical strength. Alex, who had never, in his whole life, forced a
woman to do anything at all, dragged her along like a pirate of old
might have taken a hostage. He was so angry, he didn’t even look to
see if they were being observed by other fair-goers.