Kane, Samantha - Brothers in arms 7 (12 page)

“That is the first time since…in the last few days that you have called me Charles.”

Sarah was surprised by the unexpected remark. She appreciated his discretion. She was embarrassed enough by the reminder of the things he had done to her that night without him expressly addressing it. She would have to be careful. His name had slipped out unbidden, a visceral reaction to his anger and defensiveness. What if there had been servants about?

“I…” She did not know what to say. She didn’t think telling him she had not meant to do it was the right thing at this time. Nor was telling him it felt natural to do so and she had to fight the urge every minute she was with him. How could she long for intimacies with him again and at the same time be afraid to call him by his Christian name? It was all so confusing.

“I understand,” he said quietly, and she truly believed he did. He continued, saving her yet again from having to respond. “As for what makes a gentleman,” here his glance was chastising, “you are far too naive if you believe all gentlemen are noble creatures. I shall have to keep my eye on you lest some gentleman lead you astray.”

“I am not so naive as to believe that,” Sarah scoffed. “I said they are judged that way. As for being led astray…” She let the thought trail off, both amazed and horrified at her boldness.

Charles’ laugh was genuine. “You should see how you are blushing right now,” he teased. He shook his head. “You continue to amaze me, Sarah. You really do.” He clicked his tongue and turned the horses at a crossroads and Sarah could see houses up ahead.

“Charles—” she began fearfully, her hand going to her cheek and then traveling up and smoothing her hair as if that was what she’d meant to do.

“I shall have to tell Gideon when we get home that you are learning to be a proper wife,” Charles said teasingly, sliding his leg along the bench and nudging Sarah with his knee. At her shocked gasp he chuckled. “You are becoming a very good scold.”

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For some reason that little touch and his teasing calmed her. She put both hands in her lap over her reticule and sat up straighter on the seat. “Am I? Then I shall continue to scold you both over my poor, wretched bonnet left ignominiously in the lane. What will people think, Mr. North’s new wife arriving in the village in such a sorry state as no bonnet?”

Charles placed his hand over his heart and sighed dramatically, earning a whinny from one of the horses. “I will take the blame, dear lady. I am racked with guilt over knocking your pretty bonnet off into the lane. Our first stop—the milliner’s.” He turned and smiled wickedly at her with a twinkle in his eye. “Where you can replace the one I ruined.”

“Destroyed is more like it,” Sarah muttered, smoothing her skirts. She pretended to ponder for a moment. “Perhaps Mr. North would not be too devastated if I did not purchase an exact replacement. After all, the milliner here may not have one as fine as my old one. I may have to settle for a different style.” Even as she said it, Sarah felt her hands grow cold with dread. She wasn’t sure she could come out of hiding so easily.

“We shall see,” Charles said noncommittally. “Perhaps Mrs. Duncan will have one that is finer.”

Sarah could not answer him through a throat choked with emotion. His comment showed his sensitivity to her plight. If she were not very careful her affection for Charles could grow to something so much more.

“You are a gentleman, Charles,” she finally whispered as they entered the village and several people stopped to look at them.

“Don’t be fooled for one minute, Mrs. North,” Charles told her as he nodded at the villagers. “I am as far from that creature as it is possible to be.”

After the nerve-racking experience of driving into the village with Charles, exposed in the carriage with no bonnet or cover of any kind, actually visiting the shops was far less dramatic than Sarah had expected. Mrs. Duncan, the milliner, positively beamed when Charles walked in.

“Mr. Borden!” she cried, coming around the counter with her hand out.

Charles bowed low over her hand. “How do you do, Mrs. Duncan?” he said with a smile in his voice. Sarah had never understood that expression until she met Charles.

He turned to Sarah who was hanging back by the door. “This is Mrs. North. I’m afraid I knocked her bonnet off on the way to the village today and the horses crushed it. She is in desperate need of a new hat.”

Mrs. Duncan put her hands together under her chin and turned to Sarah with a wide smile, as if she was the cat who got the cream. She was a plump woman in her thirties, a very attractive brunette with big blue eyes. “Mrs. North!” Sarah hid her amusement at the effusive greeting.

“How do you do, Mrs. Duncan?” Sarah asked politely.

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“Oh, how good it is to meet you,” Mrs. Duncan said, sliding her arm through Sarah’s and pulling her farther into the shop. “I would be thrilled to help you find a new bonnet today.” She let Sarah go at the counter and walked around behind it. “The whole village has talked of nothing else but your wedding this past week. How romantic.”

Sarah wasn’t quite sure what the other woman meant. A wedding was romantic?

Marrying a man you barely knew was romantic? Gideon was the tragic romantic hero?

Sarah decided not to ask, merely sneaked a look at Charles out of the corner of her eye.

He was grinning.

“Yes, quite romantic,” he agreed with Mrs. Duncan enthusiastically.

Sarah felt a little lost. “Thank you?” she tried.

Mrs. Duncan seemed satisfied and beamed again. “We’ve all been hoping that Mr.

North would find a wife.”

Ah, it was Gideon as tragic hero, then, Sarah thought. How he would hate that.

Mrs. Duncan looked slyly at Charles. “And now it is Mr. Borden’s turn, is it not?”

Charles looked more than a little alarmed. “I don’t believe it is contagious,” he answered. “Marriage only affects willing victims.”

Mrs. Duncan laughed and Sarah hid a smile. “Now, what kind of hat were you looking for?” Mrs. Duncan asked, all business.

Sarah looked around at the various styles on the shelves behind the counter. She saw Charles sidle over and stand very straight and tall in front of a small section, hiding what was behind him. Sarah pointed directly at him. “I believe I saw a poke bonnet on the shelf there?”

Charles grimaced with a sigh and moved off to the side. Mrs. Duncan looked alarmed. “Are you sure that’s the style you want, my dear?” she asked gently. At her question Sarah turned her attention away from Charles but was still able to see him shake his head vigorously at Mrs. Duncan, who seemed to understand immediately.

“You see, that bonnet is Mrs. Reed’s. She is to pick it up tomorrow. But if you’d like, I can make another one for you. It will take some time…” She let the sentence trail off as she turned to peruse the shelves herself. She picked up a pretty little bonnet with a very small brim and some pink trim. “How about this one?” she asked with a smile as she turned around.

“Oh no,” Sarah said, aghast. That little bonnet? Why it wouldn’t hide a thing.

“Why not?” Charles asked. He stepped up and took the hat from Mrs. Duncan. “I like it. It’s pretty.”

“Then you wear it,” Sarah said drily. Charles and Mrs. Duncan laughed as if it was a great joke. It wasn’t.

“Oh, Mrs. North,” Mrs. Duncan giggled. “You and your husband have the same sense of humor. How marvelous.”

“Yes, isn’t it?” Sarah murmured.

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Charles was watching her with a challenging gleam in his eye. “Try it on.”

Sarah sighed like a martyr. She’d perfected that with her younger siblings. It had no effect on Charles. He continued to hold the hat out, nearly in front of her face. She snatched the bonnet from him. “Fine.” She walked over to a mirror on the counter and set the bonnet on her head.

“Oh,” was all she could say. It was beautiful. Sarah had never worn something so frivolous in her life. She turned her head to the right, so only her unmarred cheek was reflected in the mirror. She actually looked pretty. Then she faced the mirror square-on.

Well, the hat was pretty. She was passable at best, and not too ridiculous.

“Tie the ribbon, dear,” Mrs. Duncan said. But even as she said it Mrs. Duncan pulled Sarah about and began to tie the ribbon herself. “Oh, this looks even better than I’d hoped! See how attractive she is, Mr. Borden! The pink ribbon makes her eyes glow.”

Sarah turned back to the mirror and was caught by Charles’ gaze as he looked over her shoulder into the reflection. “Her eyes rival the stars, Mrs. Duncan,” Charles said somberly. “We will take the hat.”

“Oh, I’m so glad!” Mrs. Duncan gushed. She left Sarah staring at Charles in the mirror and bustled over to the counter, pulling out a hatbox.

Sarah broke the spell and turned away from the mirror. “Yes, I will take it,” she said firmly, arching her brow at Charles, who just grinned. “It is a little too fine for everyday wear, however.” She walked over to Mrs. Duncan. “Have you something else that would work around Blakely Farm?”

“Blakely Farm?” Mrs. Duncan asked curiously.

“Mrs. North has renamed it,” Charles told her. “She said it was far more than a house now.”

“Oh, that is splendid,” Mrs. Duncan said in her friendly, enthusiastic manner.

Normally Sarah would have found that grating, but Mrs. Duncan was hard not to like.

“And how are things on the farm, Mr. Borden? Have you made your horse yet? And Mr. North? I hope he is doing well?”

Mrs. Duncan’s questions were directed at Charles, though Sarah stood right in front of her. Sarah would have said something but Charles answered too quickly.

“No, we have not made our horse yet,” he responded with a laugh. “But we are getting closer. And Mr. North is his usual self.”

“Good, good,” Mrs. Duncan said absently as she looked over the shelves again. She turned to Sarah with a sigh. “I know just the thing, dear, something similar to what you’re wearing now, but in a lighter shade with a wider ribbon. Blue to match your pretty pelisse?” She frowned, and though Sarah did not know her well, she could tell it was an unnatural expression for her. “But I don’t have it right now. I can have it by next week. Would that be all right?” She pulled down a military-style hat and held it next to Sarah’s face. It was peacock blue. “This would look very smart as well. The color is 64

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perfect for you.” She pointed here and there on the hat. “With a feather here, and perhaps some braid. Also next week?” She looked at Charles.

Sarah cleared her throat before Charles could answer. “I will take your advice, Mrs.

Duncan,” she answered politely, “and order both.” Sarah looked down at what she was wearing and remembered Charles telling her how becoming blue was on her. She tried not to blush. But perhaps Gideon would like the blue too? “But could you make the adornment on this little hat blue to match my coat as well?”

Mrs. Duncan smiled. “What a clever idea! Of course. I shall use a different ribbon on each hat, but they will both complement your coat, ma’am. And your pretty eyes.”

Sarah’s smile was a little hesitant at Mrs. Duncan’s flattery. “It is more practical that they match my coat, I think.”

Charles huffed next to her. “You are far too practical, Mrs. North,” he muttered.

Sarah walked to the door, her smile hidden from Charles as he paid Mrs. Duncan.

“Someone has to be,” she replied. “And I am very good at it.”

Two hours later they were in the carriage on the way back to Blakely Farm. Sarah thought about her new hats. Charles was incredibly persuasive when he wanted to be.

And charming, she mustn’t forget charming. He charmed everyone in the village. And not one person acted rudely toward Sarah. No one pointed, no one turned away as if she carried some contagion. Granted, they did not walk the entire village and only spoke with a handful of people, but it was a start. Sarah felt inordinately proud of herself.

A young man named Garret, from the general store, was following them in a wagon loaded down with supplies for the horses. Charles had needed some things in the village as well, although Sarah wondered if he really had been coming all along as he’d claimed.

“What did Mr. Howard mean when he asked how the experiment was going?”

Sarah asked. She’d been burning with curiosity ever since she’d overheard the remark.

“We’re trying to create a new breed of horse,” Charles answered as if it were common to do such a thing.

“A new breed? Why that’s amazing! But why? Can it be done?” Sarah’s head was spinning. She’d had no idea they were doing that sort of thing. It sounded complicated and time-consuming.

“Yes, it can be done,” Charles answered. He sounded amused but not

condescending. “Gideon thinks that carriage travel on the new roads requires a new breed of horse, and I think he’s right. He wants to breed one of the faster horses with a heavier, stronger breed. The combination of speed, strength, endurance and intelligence should make an excellent carriage horse.”

“I had no idea.” Sarah felt utterly foolish. She had not asked them about the horses.

She hadn’t made the effort to find out what her new husband’s interests were, what his 65

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goals for the farm were. She’d seen the horses and thought they were beautiful and she hadn’t thought beyond that. Even Mrs. Duncan had known. She’d asked whether he had “made his horse”.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask about the horses and the farm. I should have. No wonder…” She broke off before she revealed her fears over the two men not returning to her bed.

“No wonder what?” Charles pounced on her hesitation.

Sarah just shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Don’t worry, Sarah. You’ll learn all about the farm as you go along. It’s too soon to castigate yourself for not knowing everything.” Sarah smiled at him, letting him believe he’d placated her. Charles let it drop after one more searching look at her.

A few minutes later she broke the silence again. “What exactly is your work, Charles? Are you in charge of the breeding?”