Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 01] (3 page)

The noon dinner hour arrived. Faith’s spirits rose as many of the discouraged job seekers left their places in line, and headed down the corridor, grumbling to themselves. Faith stumbled to her feet as the line surged forward. Several women hurried to claim the coveted spaces. She had hoped the dinner hour would force more of the competition to vacate the corridor, but she was disappointed.

All around her, women reached into their belongings and produced bundles of food. Faith swallowed a groan of dismay and settled into a more comfortable position against the wall, determined to ignore her stomach’s angry protests. The competition had come prepared. She sat in miserable silence.

Mr. David Alexander continued to work through dinnertime. Faith hungrily eyed the tray of roast beef, biscuits, garden peas, and mashed potatoes with gravy that the hotel staff delivered to his desk. Her mouth watered, and her empty stomach knotted up as the enticing aromas slipped past her nostrils. She even detected a whiff of apples and cinnamon on the tray—an apple cobbler maybe, or a slice of pie. And coffee. Hot steaming coffee. It was almost too much for her. She pulled her legs up in front of her, and locked her arms around her knees to keep from marching up to Mr. Alexander’s desk and drooling all over his meal. She glanced around at her neighbors on the floor, hoping for a handout, but not one of her neighbors on the floor offered to share her meager meal, and Faith was much too proud to ask. She’d come to Washington unprepared. She had allowed her family’s optimism to affect her judgment. They had assured her she would march into Mr. Alexander’s office and come out with the job in a matter of minutes.

At last, the crumpling of oil cloth and newspaper signaled the end of the dinner hour. Hope surged within her. Surely, it wouldn’t take all afternoon to complete the interviews. She stood up to stretch her legs and looked around, gauging the length of the line and the strength of her competition. Around her other women rose and stretched their cramped limbs, some of them carefully moving softly snoring toddlers from their laps to the floor. Others, tried to soothe infants and tired cranky children, who loudly wailed their displeasure at the exhausting wait. Faith breathed a silent prayer of thanks that she hadn’t brought Joy along as Aunt Virt suggested to “help sway Mr. Alexander.”

Faith had reached the limit of her own patience, and Joy would have lost it hours ago. She was afraid she might burst into tears at any moment and wail right along with the children.

She looked around and saw on the faces of all the women in line the same look of hope, tempered by desperate need. They needed work just as desperately as she did. Many of them had probably been needier for a far longer time and had lost as much as she. Perhaps, more. Although, Faith had lost parents, brothers, cousins, and a comfortable wealth, she had never known the loss of a child, or of a husband or lover.

A low buzz of anxious whispers surrounded her, and she heard the rustle of fabric as women smoothed the creases from their dresses, straightened their bonnets, and patted their hair into place. Some of them even pinched their cheeks and bit their lips as if preparing to greet a beau. Faith wondered what had prompted this display of feminine energy and wiles until she spotted Mr. Alexander in earnest discussion with another man in the doorway of one of the suite’s sitting rooms.

“Who is he?” Faith asked the woman ahead of her, awed by the sight of him.

“He’s the one.”

“The one?” Faith asked.

“The one doing the hiring.” The woman removed her gloves, discreetly licked the palms of her hands, then patted her brassy blond hair into place. “You wouldn’t happen to have any rouge, would you?”

Faith shook her head, watching in fascination as the woman adjusted the lace-trimmed bodice of her bright pink gown to display a scandalous amount of flesh. “I thought Mr. Alexander was hiring.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Alexander is the one at the table taking down all the information. He’s a handsome devil, too. But not like the other one.” She bit her lower lip. “If Alexander approves you, you get to go in and talk with the other man. And I’m looking forward to that!”

“Who is the other man?” Faith asked again.

“I don’t know,” the woman replied. “But Mr. Alexander is just his agent. The other man is the boss. Take a good look. Have you ever seen anyone like him?” she gushed.

Faith looked up. The answer popped into her brain. No. She had never seen anyone like him. He was beautiful. There was simply no other word to describe him. Faith let her gaze wander over him from the top of his head, across the wide expanse of chest, down the seemingly endless length of hard-muscled thighs and calves, to the toes of his gleaming shoes.

She had to force herself to look away from him. Just the sight of him was enough to make her pulse race. Faith slowly closed her mouth. If he possessed flaws, they had to be on the inside, because the outside of him was perfection. No wonder the room was crowded with females seeking employment. Word must have gotten around.

Faith wondered if he realized he was the drawing card, the main attraction, that the amount of gold he offered for the job of caring for an infant paled in comparison.

It seemed to Faith that she stood mesmerized by the man for hours, but it could not have been more than a minute or two before he lifted his head from his conversation with David Alexander, and straightened up. His midnight-black hair touched the top of the doorframe. Faith could see it was long and silky. He smiled at something Alexander said, then casually scanned the corridor bustling with anxious women and children. Faith’s gray gaze locked with his.

The sudden eye contact sent a shiver of pure excitement racing across her nerve endings. His eyes were brown, she noted, a delicious chocolate brown, flecked with gold and framed by black lashes and brows. Her breathing quickened. Her face felt warm, flushed. She moved back against the wall, and busied herself by studying the tips of her battered shoes.

Reese Jordan stood unmoving as the young woman seemed to disappear before his eyes. One minute she was there staring at him and in the next instant, she had faded into the milling crowd and become hidden from view.

“Who is she?” he asked Alexander.

David Alexander glanced down at the paper he was holding in his hand. “Mary Stephens, nineteen years old, three-year-old son named James. Husband killed five months ago in a tavern brawl. She’s next.” David indicated the girl waiting patiently in front of the table, holding a blond toddler anchored to her hip.

“Not her.” Reese barely glanced at the girl. “The other one. The one in the center of the corridor a moment ago.”

David looked around the crowded hall, then back at his cousin and employer. At least a hundred women were milling about in the room and at least forty of them stood in line in the center of the hallway. “Could you be a little more specific, Reese? Which of the multitude has caught your discerning eye?”

Reese Jordan scanned the crowd, searching. “She was here a moment ago. Dammit, she couldn’t have just disappeared. Where is she? I don’t see her.” He looked at David. “Send the next one in, but keep an eye out for her—petite, black hair, dark eyes, very pretty.”

David shot a glance at his cousin. Dark haired, dark-eyed, petites were not Reese’s preference. Big, buxom redheads and hard-edged blondes were his normal choice. “Are you sure you want to continue? It’s late and you must be tired. I know I am.”

Reese fingered the gold chain dangling across the side of his waistcoat and removed his watch from its pocket. He flipped it open. “I have time for one more. Send her in.”

David gestured at the girl in front of him. “Mary Stephens.” He handed Reese the sheet of paper outlining the applicant’s history.

Reese looked closely at the young woman for the first time and shook his head. “She won’t do.”

“Why not?” David was puzzled. “She meets all the requirements.”

“Look at her, David,” Reese instructed.

David gave the girl a cursory glance. “What about her?”

“She’s obviously in the family way, David. She meets the requirements too well. She won’t do,” Reese said with finality.

David shook his head at the young woman. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Stephens, but—”

“I heard him,” she said dully. “I won’t do. But you coulda said something earlier. I been waitin’ here all day just to see him. If you’d looked at me, you woulda seen I’m expectin’.”

“I realize that. I just didn’t realize…I mean…” David Alexander faltered.

“I’ll pay her off and let her be on her way. We don’t have time to waste arguing,” Reese interrupted, reaching inside the breast pocket of his jacket to remove his wallet.

The woman shook her head. “I came for an honest job. I don’t take charity from nobody.”

“It isn’t charity.” Reese made an effort to curb his annoyance. “I’m reimbursing you for your time. I should’ve had Mr. Alexander inquire as to whether any of you were expectant mothers before we began. A woman in your condition…”

“A woman in my condition can get along fine without your charity.” She informed him angrily. “You said I wouldn’t do and I won’t, but I won’t take no reimbursing or charity or whatever you call it from you neither.” She turned on her heel and addressed the crowd. “All you other women in my condition can just forget about this job. He don’t take expectant mothers. Ain’t no sense waitin’ around.” She picked up her belongings and made her way through the crowd. Several other women followed in her footsteps.

“Well, that lets me out,” the brassy blonde in front of Faith announced. “I’m not showin’ yet, but I will be soon enough. What about you, honey?” She turned to Faith.

“Oh, no, I’m not…I mean my husband died in the war. I couldn’t be…” Faith stammered, blushing furiously.

“What’s that got to do with it?” The woman laughed. “Mine died in the war, too.”

Faith’s jaw dropped open and the woman chuckled even harder. “A girl does what she can to survive and feed her family, don’t you know that, yet?” She shrugged. “Oh, well, good luck, honey. Maybe you’ll get the job.”

She waved goodbye to Faith and followed the departing women down the hall.

Faith looked around her. The crowd had thinned considerably. She wouldn’t have believed there were so many expectant mothers in the room if she hadn’t seen for herself. Nor, would she have believed they would calmly walk away from a job they all wanted after waiting in line all day. Her sense of fair play was offended. They should have been given an opportunity to interview. The job involved providing for an infant. Surely, a woman about to have a child of her own was well qualified to care for someone else’s. But this new development did increase her chances. All she had to do was wait for her turn to talk to Mr. Alexander and gain access to the man in the other room. She could wait a little longer. The last train back to Richmond departed the station at nine in the evening. Surely, she would get in to see the man before then.

* * *

Some hours later, Reese Jordan looked down at his cousin and took pity on him. David had done a tremendous job under trying circumstances, and he was tired. Lines were etched around the corners of his mouth and his dark eyes were lackluster. The usual sparkle had disappeared from their depths hours ago. He needed dinner and a good night’s sleep. “Let’s stop for the night, David. We’re both tired. I never dreamed we’d have to wade through so many women to find what I want.”

“I warned you about a newspaper ad,” David reminded him. “I was afraid this would happen. These are desperate times, Reese. You should have used a more conventional method. Dozens of young women of your acquaintance would be willing to go along with this scheme.”

“And dozens of fathers and brothers would hunt me down when it’s all over. No, thank you. I’ll take my chances with the newspaper and my own instincts.”

“Are you absolutely certain you want to go through with this insanity?”

“Absolutely. And it isn’t insanity. This method has worked for thousands of years in Europe,” Reese informed his cousin.

“With one important modification,” David reminded him. “Marriage.”

“Granted,” Reese agreed. “But that’s one modification I’m not willing to make.”

“Why?” David asked for the thousandth time.

“You know why. You above all people should understand how I feel about this.” Reese ran his fingers through his black hair.

“I remember a time when you couldn’t wait to tie the knot.”

Reese’s brown eyes narrowed into slits. “That was a long time ago. I’m not that stupid or naïve anymore. This is the only method I’ll consider. I’ve thought this through, David. I know what I’m doing.”

“You want a son and heir?”

“Yes,” Reese said with a finality that warned his cousin the discussion was over. “Send the women home for the night. Tell them the qualified applicants may report here at ten tomorrow.”

“Ten?” David asked. Reese habitually began his work days before dawn.

“I have to attend a reception at the British Embassy this evening. It’s going to be a very long night.”

“That long, huh?”

“I plan to meet an old acquaintance after the reception and I don’t want to disappoint her.” Reese smiled suddenly.

There was a wealth of promise in Reese Jordan’s wicked smile, and David understood why women found his cousin so irresistible.

Reese gestured to David. “Go ahead. Send the applicants home. I have to dress for dinner. It’s been a long day for both of us and it’s going to be an even longer night.”

“For one of us.” David chuckled. “All right, Reese. Until ten tomorrow.”

Reese nodded, then turned back into the next room.

David Alexander moved forward to address the crowd of women. “I’m sorry, ladies, but that will be all for the day.”

An irate voice resounded through the crowd. “What do you mean that will be all?”

“I mean that we’ve finished taking applications and interviewing for the remainder of the evening. Those of you who are qualified and still interested in the position may report here at ten tomorrow morning to resume the screening process,” David said calmly.