Love's First Flames (Banished Saga, 0.5) (10 page)

“Do you have to do more work this evening?” Richard asked.

“Of course. I must ensure she is settled and then tidy the house for the morning. Afterward I study before bed.”

“Seems like an awful lot of work for one person.”

“I’m fortunate. If it weren’t for Mrs. Kruger, I would never have believed I was goo—”

“Good enough to be a teacher?” Richard asked with a curious raise of his eyebrow. “I’d never worry about you being smart enough or good enough. You seem the resilient, resourceful type who will figure out what needs to be done.”

“That’s all good for survival. But I want more than that. I want to thrive.” She blushed at the passion in her voice. “Forgive me.”

“For what? I can only agree with you and admire you. Like me, you know what it is to lose your parents. Yet unlike me, you didn’t have a Gabriel ensuring you were fed and protected from the meanness in this world. And yet you’re not bitter.” He watched her with wonder.

“I wouldn’t read too much into what I am or I’m not, Mr. McLeod,” she murmured.

“Richard. I’ve already been so forward as to call you Florence. I like to think we are friends.”

“Friends,” Florence repeated, unable to hide the disappointment from her voice.

Richard chuckled and patted her hand still on his arm. “Ah, that does a man’s ego good.”

“I don’t care about a man’s ego,” Florence snapped.

“Well, how about mine? It does mine good to know you desire something more than friendship from me.” His icy-blue eyes met hers, warmed with a deep emotion.

“Please don’t toy with me,” Florence whispered. “I’m a simple woman looking for a simple future.” She became rigid with anger when Richard burst out laughing.

“Forgive me, but you’re far from simple, Florence. You’re complicated as all women worth their weight are. You’ve managed to convince yourself you want a simple life because the simplest of lives was taken from you. I understand. The same was taken from me. But I still want more. I want more than easy companionship.”

“I’m sure this is a highly improper conversation,” Florence sputtered and attempted to extricate her hand from his. He let her free her hand, but then gripped her shoulders, turning her to face him and preventing her from moving away from him.

“I know it is, but then I’ve never worried much about proprieties since my folks died and my aunt used the excuse of social niceties to deny my brothers and me any hope of a decent future. I know I’m speaking out of turn and that no man speaks to a woman like this. They spend their days walking and visiting, saying meaningless things and at the end of all those visits, there’s the hope that the two people will suit.

“But how are you to know you’ll suit if you never really talk? If you never share your hopes and dreams and disappointments in life? I like you, Florence, more than I thought I’d ever like a woman. You interest me by what you say and intrigue me by what you keep hidden inside. I want to be the one you share those inner thoughts with. I want to know more about you, to see if what I hope will come true . . . does.”

“Richard.” Florence stuttered out an exhalation and blinked furiously to clear her tears. “You ask more than you can ever know.”

“I want what my parents had, Florence. And I think, deep inside, you do too.”

She met his gaze as though hypnotized by what she saw in it and all that he had left unsaid. “I must go. Mrs. Kruger will be anxious for my return.”

“Tell me that you want to see me again. That I haven’t ruined everything by my rash words.”

“Meet me again, Richard, as I walk home from my course, and we’ll see if I continue to intrigue you,” Florence said as she slipped her shoulders out of his hands and moved down the walk. He watched as she entered the servant’s entrance, sighing with regret that she did not turn to look back at him before she disappeared out of sight.

***

FLORENCE HEAVED OUT A SIGH as she glanced around her after descending the trolley a few nights later. She squared her shoulders, raised her head and continued the short walk toward Mrs. Kruger’s.

“Flo!” a faint voice called.

She turned to see Richard dodging a late-evening delivery cart and a passenger carriage before coming to a halt in front of her. He clasped a few wilted dahlias in his left hand. “I’m sorry I’m late. I almost got caught getting you these flowers, and it took me a few moments to . . .” He shrugged his shoulders as though the rest of what he were to say was of no import.

“It took you a few moments to . . . ?” Florence prompted, unable to hide her curiosity.

“Outrun my cousins as I took them on a wild goose chase. I didn’t want them to know where I was headed.” Richard beamed with pride.

“You do know you aren’t ten?” Florence asked with a shake of her head.

“Ah, but I feel that old with my cousins.” He titled his head to one side as though considering a philosophical question. “And maybe that’s the best thing they’ve done for me. Kept me feeling young and as a child. Whereas they’ve only made Gabriel an old man before his time.”

“Why would you say that?” Florence asked as she accepted the flowers, holding them to her nose and frowning as there was no scent.

“Dahlias don’t smell, love,” Richard said with a chuckle. “You’ve met Gabe. You’ve seen how sober he is.”

“I think that, with the right inducement, he could be as you. More carefree, more apt to laugh and see joy in the world,” Florence said as they slowly walked through the darkened square, the streetlamps already lit.

“Is that how you see me?”

“Yes. It’s one of your aspects that drew me to you. You always seem on the verge of smiling and seeing the positive in the world.”

“Thank you,” Richard said and cleared his throat. “I’ve never thought of myself that way.”

Florence squeezed his hand. “When you surround yourself with such serious company as Gabriel, it’s no wonder.”

“Don’t make fun of Gabe. He’s sacrificed everything for Jeremy and me.”

“And don’t spend your life feeling guilty for it,” Florence said. “It was his choice. He wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t want to. Believe me. People only do what they want. If it’s too great an inconvenience for them, or they don’t love enough, they’ll find a way out of their responsibilities.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” She paused for a moment before speaking again. “While I would never discount all he’s done for you, don’t live your life beholden to what he wants. Determine what it is you want.”

“Why do you think I’m here? Do you think Gabe encourages me to visit you with such frequency?” He stared into her eyes, hidden behind her spectacles. “I am my own man, and I’m here for me.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you. Maybe more than I should. Definitely more than I thought I would. I enjoy your bright mind, your perceptive questions, your fresh take on this world. You know what it is I’ve lived through and don’t treat me like a leper or a charity case. You treat me like a person, and I value that.”

“You do the same for me. No one ever really saw me before that day at the bakery. Well, except for Mrs. Kruger, but she doesn’t count.”

“You mean
no man
really saw you,” Richard teased as Florence nodded.

“Yes. And I was certain all you were interested in was a bit of mischief with the orphaned hired help. You can’t know what it means to realize you aren’t what I supposed,” Florence whispered. She shook her head as Richard came to a halt in front of Mrs. Kruger’s. She had been focused on their walk and hadn’t paid attention to her surroundings.

“I wish you a good evening, Florence,” Richard murmured, raising her hand and kissing it.

She flushed and flexed her fingers to grip his tightly for a moment.

When he released her hand, she kept hers raised and caressed his cheek for a second, the heat from her fingers warming his cheek even through her glove. His eyes flashed their approval before she smiled and turned to descend the stairs and move out of sight.

***

“HOW ARE THINGS with Miss Butler?” Gabriel asked that evening as they lay on their cots.

Jeremy sat with his legs Indian style, reading a book for school. Richard lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Gabriel read the evening’s headlines from one of the newspapers pilfered from the upstairs by one of the staff members.

“Fine.”

“Seems things are more than fine when you’re happy to miss supper two nights running,” Gabriel said as he lowered his paper and looked at Richard. “Aunt has become suspicious, and you don’t want her to start investigating your whereabouts when you’re not here.”

“Don’t start, Gabe.”

“I’m not the one who’s starting things. You are. With a young lady of rather unknown origins,” Gabriel said.

“Her origins are known. She told Rich she’s an orphan like us but had no family,” Jeremy said without raising his head from reading his book.

“Exactly,” Richard said.

“Rich, you’re young. You don’t have the profession, or income, to consider marriage at your age,” Gabriel argued. He glowered at Jeremy.

“Whoever said anything about marriage?” Richard asked with exasperation.

“Are you saying you want to treat her dishonorably?” Gabriel asked, incredulous.

“No, of course not. I’m still trying to determine what it is I do want. Friendship? Something more?”

“When was the last time you brought your friends flowers?” Jeremy asked with humor lacing his voice.

“And when was the last time we had to make up a story about a damned rabbit?” Gabriel said as he chuffed out a laugh. “I know Henry and Nicholas didn’t believe us.”

“I thought they saw me with the flowers,” Richard said.

“They didn’t. They took after you because they like chasing you, and you were home too soon. Their mother still had fancy friends about, and she didn’t want you anywhere nearby. Seems there are those among her friends who are most curious to meet us and see how we are faring after her years of doting care,” Jeremy said.

Richard scoffed. “No wonder she wants us far away. She can’t have her friends seeing us in near rags when she boasts about the good care she provides.”

“Did you know she has rooms prepared upstairs to show her friends where we sleep?” Jeremy asked.

“What?” Gabriel nearly bellowed and was hushed by his brothers. “Who told you this?”

“No one. I’m good at skulking around, Gabe. As good as, if not better than, you, and I can find out quite a bit while I’m at it. Turns out, during his last visit here, the new pastor at her church wanted to see our rooms, give them a blessing of sorts for the ‘poor lost souls’ who’d no parents. Aunt was in a state as no such rooms were ready, and she pushed him off until his next visit. He came by today, and she showed him three rooms that are supposedly ours.”

Gabriel looked over at Richard. “It’s why, today of all days, you couldn’t be at home, Rich. The pastor would have taken one look at you and would have known her for the lying woman she is.”

“Thus she sent her pathetic sons after me. I thought they were upset about the flowers,” Richard said.

“That came later. After everyone had left and her ploy had worked. Then she noticed the hacking job you did in the garden to her prized dahlias. You should have heard her shriek.” Jeremy shared a smile with Gabriel.

“Won’t it be wonderful to never hear her shriek again?” Richard asked.

“Or get thunked on the head with some cooking instrument as she makes a point?” Jeremy sighed.

“Or be accused of eating her out of house and home as we nearly starve?” Gabriel asked. “But”—his deep, commanding voice forestalled any further fantasies from his brothers about what they looked forward to when they were out of this house—“that still does not answer my question about your relationship with Miss Butler.”

“I really don’t see how that concerns you, Gabe,” Richard said, disgruntled.

“You’re welfare has been my concern for nine years,” Gabriel snapped. “Don’t think now as though that is going to change anytime soon.”

“Like I said, Gabe, we’re friends, and I’m seeing if it becomes more. I hope it does. And I hope you can come to like her. Think of her as a friend.”

“I’ve always wanted a sister,” Jeremy said as he looked up from his book and winked at Richard.

“Jer, you’re not helping,” Gabriel said. He cast a disgruntled look at his youngest brother, but Jeremy just smiled back with an impish grin.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset, Gabe. Rich’s found someone he’s interested in. Good for him. I hope we’ll both be so lucky. And I hope we like her. But it’s really up to him to figure it all out.”

“Thanks, Jer,” Rich said.

Gabriel sighed and returned to his paper.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

GABRIEL STRETCHED HIS SHOULDERS and lowered his chisel. Bright autumn sunshine brightened the room. The sounds of gentle snoring rose and fell in a melodious cadence from the pallet in a far corner where Mr. Smithers took his habitual afternoon nap. Gabriel moved quietly to the stove, setting a pot on to boil and to prepare a simple repast for his brothers. He heard the clunking of footsteps up the stairs and knew one of them was to arrive momentarily.