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Authors: Barbara Woster

Fate's Intervention (41 page)

BOOK: Fate's Intervention
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Marcelle smiled, bringing the tips of her fingers to her lips and throwing a final kiss at his retreating back.


Do me a favor,

he said, as soon as he was mounted.

Don

t watch me ride away this
time.

Marcelle laughed softly, then turned and closed the door behind her. She snatched her robe up off the floor, ran into the
parlor,
and pulled the curtain aside, a grin on her face as she watched him ride away

his uncomfortable state laughingly apparent.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX


If you were wearing pantalettes, I

d ask what has them all in a knot, big brother,

Mark said, slouching lazily in his seat by the window.


A
nd
if you want to keep your teeth in your head, I

d suggest you not address your conversation in this direction,
baby
brother,

Matthew said, then returned his concentration on the rapidly passing vista.


A
h, come on, Matthew, you are not still put out with me over what
I did
a couple of days ago, are you?


Put out, Mark? That hardly does it justice. Try continued murderous rage.


You must have it pretty bad for the girl if you let something trivial like that come between us brothers,

Mark said.

Hey! Where are you going?


Since
you persist in conversing with me when I

ve asked you not to, I

m leaving to take a stroll around the train, otherwise I may do womankind a favor and throw you out of the window.


Want some company?

Mark teased and started to rise, ignoring his brother

s obvious foul demeanor.

Matthew was in his face as fast as a rattler strike, forcing Mark to return to his previously seated position.


Let

s get something clear, Mark,

Matthew said quietly, his face mere inches from his brother

s
,

we
may carry the same blood, but I have never considered you a brother and never will. You are a blemish on the Daragh name, and if I thought that Mother would survive the disgrace, I

d dump your butt in the worst part of town and leave you there so that you could get a taste of the hurt and humiliation you seem so insistent in meting out to the opposite sex.
As
it is, if you want to survive this train ride, then I suggest you give me a wide berth.

With that, Matthew turned and strode from the car, slamming the door closed behind him.

Mark grinned evilly. It had been easier to rid himself of his brother

s company than he imagined it would be. He peered out the door a moment after Matthew

s departure, his smile increasing.

Time to pay a visit to his next conquest, he thought, hoping she

d had as much success dumping her escort as he

d had getting rid of his. He locked the door and moved down the corridor in the opposite direction his brother had taken, whistling a bawdy tune.

He so hated having to invite her and her
father
along, but his
encounter with Marcelle left his blood heated and his need unfulfilled. H
e needed to find release. Willing release.

That

s why he

d paid a visit to Elizabeth Stanharbor

s home yesterday. He

d hoped to be able to get her alone, but her
father
hadn

t given them the privacy needed to do what he needed.

A
gain, he hoped, as he neared her door, that she

d been able to rid herself of her
father

s company, or he may explode from want. Once he got what he wanted, he could always dump them when they reached
New York
.

He knocked softly and was pleased to hear the soft,

Come in

from inside. Time to play.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN

Matthew

s long stride carried him to the dining car. He sat down and ordered a light repast and whiskey. If he
weren’t
worried about his brother finding mischief, he

d get royally plastered and stay that way for the duration of the trip.
While he waited for his lunch, his mind drifted back to earlier that morning and his interrupted tryst with Marcelle. He grinned into his glass and his anger started to subside.

He couldn

t deny it any more. He loved Marcelle
Weatherman
and, if he was honest with himself, he had since the moment they met.
She reminded him of Melody, in some ways

simple, honest, outgoing, easy to talk to, and beautiful. He knew that she could never replace Melody and, although there were similarities between the two, he couldn

t compare the two. Melody didn

t have a sarcastic or mischievous bone in her body, whereas
sarcasm and mischief
filled
Marcelle

s bones
. Melody had been a petite red head and Marcelle was a tall goddess with chestnut hair.

No, if there
were
any similarity at all, it would be that they were the only two women in the world that had ever managed to win his love and affection.

He felt bad leaving Marcelle the way he had this morning, and if
his desire for her had
not
unnerved
him,
he probably would have declared his intentions at that moment
, but
he didn

t want to ask for her hand without offering a decent engagement gift, which he could find easier in New York than Wisconsin. He also felt duty bound to let his mother know of his plans to remarry.

His smile increased at that thought, and he allowed himself to imagine their life together. Those thoughts drifted to their
first-born
.
W
ill
it be a girl or a boy?
He wondered. Whose personality would be predominant? Would the child look more like her or him? He lost himself in his euphoric musings, soon
forgetting his brother

s antics.


What has you so cheery?

A
voice interrupted. Matthew started at the interruption and splashed whiskey on his waistcoat.

So
rry about that. Didn

t mean to startle you. Here, use my kerchief.


That

s
all right. I have one,

Matthew said, drawing
a
handkerchief
from his coat pocket and dabbing at the stain.

So
what are you doing here?


Mind if I sit?

Stanharbor said, taking a seat opposite Matthew without waiting for the invitation.


Please, do,

Matthew said, belatedly.

Does Mark know you

re on the train?


We

re here at his invitation. He was kind enough to pay the fare.


We?


Elizabeth, and myself

Stanharbor said, waving a hand in the direction of the hostess.


When did you talk to Mark? He was in town all day yesterday.


No, he wasn

t. He rented a horse and spent the day visiting at our ranch. Nice young fellow, that brother of yours. Got along with all
of
my children

e
specially Elizabeth, if you catch my drift.


Oh, I catch it all right. You didn

t leave them alone together, did you?


Goodness gracious, Matthew. Do I look like a dolt to you? Of course not! Why that would concern you, however, I cannot imagine.
I
did
give
you the
opportunity to accept my Elizabeth

s hand, as I recall.


You

re not still gnawing on that bone, are you Clifford?


Not on your life. I managed to do all right by her after all. May even see her happily wed before our trip is over.


You couldn

t persuade me to marry your daughter, so you

re going to try
to
snare my brother, is that right?


Could do worse,

Stanharbor said, taking a sip of his bourbon.


I wouldn

t bet on that,

Matthew said, taking a swig of his own
drink,
and then waving the waitress over to order another.


So
, what

s this between you and your brother, if you don

t mind my asking? He said that his bruised face was courtesy of you.


Family business,

Matthew answered vaguely.


Well, no matter,

Stanharbor waved a hand, as if he

d been the one to draw that
particular part of their conversation to a close.

You know, if I can wed my
Elizabeth
off this trip, then that will be one less brat at home to tend to. Maybe I can find a wife on this trip as well, h
mm
? Someone who likes children would be a good find. Maybe a schoolmarm.
Although
I don

t think they come as young as I like them.


A
ny
thing is possible
; s
o
,
my brother is the candidate for Elizabeth. What about you?
A
ny
candidates?

Matthew asked.


Not really, but I

m sure there will be plenty of ladies in
New York
to choose from,

Stanharbor admitted readily.

Listen,

he continued, swirling his bourbon in his glass,

I just wanted you to know that I consider all our ill feelings a thing of the past, okay?
I
f my daughter plans
to marry
your brother, then

well, no harm no foul, right?

Matthew grinned wryly.
Stanharbor

s pride is as big as his body
, he thought. He

s only willing to let bygones be bygones as long as he has one of the Daragh brothers in his grasp.
Nevertheless,
he couldn

t help but wonder how long his graciousness would last if his brother decided against marrying the Stanharbor twit.


Well, I wish you the best as far as my brother is concerned.
A
re
you
certain
you can get him to settle down?

BOOK: Fate's Intervention
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