Simmer All Night (19 page)

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Authors: Geralyn Dawson

Tags: #Historical Romance

BOOK: Simmer All Night
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She shot him a look so proud and fierce and furious that he murmured, "Too bad Davy Crockett didn't have you with him at the charge. The Texans might have won."

Welby scowled as his fiancée departed with another man, then his expression lightened as Lana Kleberg approached. "What did you say, Morgan?" he asked absently.

"Nothing. Just a little memory of Texas. And it puts me in a mind to talk about home. So, gentlemen, what target date shall we set for our departure?"

* * *

Christina nursed an anger so hot she thought she just might catch fire. How dare he! What was Cole Morgan thinking? Suggesting she introduce Lord Welby to her family when he knew darned well she had no intentions of ever going home again. The nerve of the man.

Bennet beamed at her. "I must say, Miss Delaney, the sound of your drawl is certain music to my ears."

"What?"

"It's seldom I have the pleasure of hearing those honeyed tones of Texas. When it happens I always harken back to the pleasurable days I have passed in your most fair country."

She blinked twice trying to focus her thoughts on the matter at hand. Curse Cole Morgan for making it so difficult. Curse him for making everything so difficult.

"How many visits did you say you've made to Texas?"

"Three different trips, and one of them was for an extended period of time."

"And did you have a particular reason for choosing Texas as your destination?"

"My maternal great-grandfather made some investments in Texas that my family holds yet today. They require periodic attention, although not as much as I would like. Eight years have passed since I last walked upon those hallowed shores."

Hallowed shores? Chrissy loved Texas herself, but my lands, this man went a bit far.

"Enough about me," he continued. "What of you, Miss Delaney. What part of Texas are you from?"

While they walked and talked, Christina regularly glanced back to where her grandfather and her betrothed conversed with Lana and Cole. She wondered what trouble that traitor Cole Morgan was throwing her way now. When the entire quartet shifted and eyed her with speculation, she was hard-pressed not to stick out her tongue.

She turned her back to them and led Bennet toward the section of the ruins where the dowager had found the sword hilt moments earlier. Smiling brightly at the baron, she asked and answered questions in ways that brought the conversation ever closer to the information she sought. Yet, underneath it all hummed the certain knowledge that the way things had turned out, she could have avoided the humiliating visit to Cole's room entirely.

Feeling the stir of the old recklessness inside her, Chrissy stepped a little closer to Bennet, smiled wider, and batted her lashes even faster.
They can plan all they want. I'll wheedle the information I need from Lord Bennet and if I have any luck at all, he'll be the one who has the Declaration. Cole could be on his way home by the end of the week and I can be done with him.

If such thoughts created a hollowness in her chest, Chrissy did her level best to ignore it.

Bennet had just begun to speak about his country estate, Harpur Priory, when Michael and Sophie Kleberg scampered up to Chrissy. "Hi, Miss Chrissy," the young girl said. "Whatcha doin'? Where's Mister Welby?"

Michael scowled and grumbled, "I didn't
think
his leash was this long. I certainly never thought he'd let another man take you walking."

"I'm not a dog, Michael Kleberg," Chrissy scolded, folding her arms and sending him a glower of disapproval.

"There he is," said Sophie, pointing back toward Cole. "Did y'all have a fight, Miss Chrissy? Is that why you're with this stranger and not him?"

"I say," protested Bennet. "Who are you children to criticize such a lovely lady as Miss Delaney?"

"She's not a lady. She's a queen. A Chili Queen. Isn't that right, Miss Chrissy? She's even the Queen of the Chili Queens because all the men and women voted it."

Bennet's eyes widened. "What is a Chili Queen?"

Before Chrissy could form her thoughts, Michael answered in a torrent of words. "Miss Chrissy makes chili and sells it at a chili stand in the plaza at home. Everybody agrees it's the best chili in town and she's the nicest cook so they voted her queen only her family found out and called it a scandal and banished her to England. Now she's decided to marry Mr. Welby who's a nice enough fellow but I'm afraid she'll never be a Chili Queen again."

Chrissy offered a weak smile to the baffled baron whose mouth gaped open in shock. "An earl's granddaughter selling food in public?"

"I'm not an earl's granddaughter at home," she said with quiet pride. "But I am, among other things, an accomplished cook of the most popular dish in the state, oftentimes known as Texas Red."

They were just the right words. "I understand, of course. However, I doubt you'd find your fiancé so accepting. Despite his charming ways, Welby is a stickler for propriety."

"Would he cancel the wedding if he found out?" asked Michael, the very picture of innocence.

He didn't fool Chrissy one little bit. "Michael Kleberg," she warned.

Bennet helped her dodge that particular problem by replying, "No, in this country it is considered the highest breach of honor and breeding for a man to back out once he has offered marriage to a woman. Were Welby to learn that his intended is known as a Chili Queen in Texas, he'd likely supervise her time more closely."

"He's already stuck to her like a grass burr," Michael said with a snort of disgust. "Why, this is the first chance I've had to talk to Miss Chrissy without him around since she made her great mistake."

"Great mistake?"

"Agreeing to marry him."

"Michael!"

The boy shrugged and Chrissy reached the end of her patience. "I'm not going to stand here and listen to insults from a pair of precocious children. Run along now. I'd like to hear more about Lord Bennet's estate, Harpur Priory."

She ignored the children's frowns of disapproval and turned all her attention toward Bennet, who took her on a imaginary walk-through of his manor house. The fellow was growing on her, Chrissy thought as he described a painted ceiling in minute detail. So what if he was a little pompous? He'd spoken up in her defense and was apparently sincere in his love for Texas. That made up for a lot.

In fact, now that she thought about it, Lord Bennet deserved her esteem much more than Cole Morgan. He certainly never stood up in her defense. Not with anyone who counted, anyway. Not with her mother.

Frustration swamped her like a tidal wave. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than this entire situation to be over with and behind her. So she turned to Bennet and said, "So tell me about your collection, my lord."

"Gladly. I love to talk about my treasures from the Lone Star State."

"Oh." Her stomach sank a little at that. "From statehood. You have nothing a little older? From the time of the Republic, perhaps?"

"I do." His grin was smug. "Actually, the majority of my treasures date back to the Republic of Texas."

"Really? Such as...?"

"Too much to mention, but for example, I have a knife owned by a Texan who died in the Goliad Massacre."

Chrissy literally chewed her tongue to keep from asking about the Declaration outright. After meeting him she doubted Lord Bennet would simply hand over the document if indeed it was in his possession. She would need to play this cautiously. "I'd love to see your collection, Lord Bennet. Perhaps—"

"Sometime in the future," Welby said smoothly as he took possession of her arm and escorted her away from Bennet.

Lana took her other arm and murmured softly, "You need to be more careful, Chrissy. It's one thing to give the man a tour of the ruins, it's another thing to work on ruining yourself."

"I did nothing wrong."

"You needn't actually do something. The appearance of something is enough to set tongues to wagging. You don't want that."

"That's right," agreed Welby. "Your station has changed, my dear. As my viscountess, you'll need to pay close attention to social niceties."

"They don't sound too nice to me," she muttered.

"You're in England, now," Cole said as he sauntered up gently swinging a medieval mace back and forth in his hand. "They don't do nice like we do back home."

* * *

Michael Kleberg perched atop a pile of old stone and watched his mother laugh at something Mr. Welby said while holding the visor from a suit of armor up to his eyes. It was good to hear his mother laugh—she didn't do it nearly as often as he thought she should—and he didn't mind that Mr. Welby was the fellow making it happen.

Michael wasn't certain how he knew Mr. Welby was wrong for Miss Chrissy. He just did. It was extra strange because Michael actually liked the man. Mr. Welby didn't ignore him and Sophie like so many adults did. Neither was he like some of these other English folk who treated his mother like they were somehow better than she just because they were peers and she was a farmer's widow. Michael liked that. He liked it a lot.

But he still didn't think Mr. Welby was right for Miss Chrissy. He couldn't say why. Just something in his gut told him so.

The boy's gaze left his mother and trailed across the gaily dressed crowd of treasure-hunters, fifteen or so in number, until he spied Miss Chrissy. "I'm worried about her, Sophie," he said to his little sister, who was seated at his side and busy building a miniature teepee of sticks and grass.

"Who? Mama or Miss Chrissy?"

"Miss Chrissy. She's being stubborn and I'm afraid she'll end up married to Mr. Welby if we don't do something."

"Why would we need to do something? Would it be so awful for Miss Chrissy to marry Mr. Viscount Welby?"

Michael shrugged. "I think it might."

"But why?"

"I don't know why. I just know it."

"All right then." Sophie frowned down at the crowd. "Don't worry, Michael. Mr. Cole has a plan, and we've been doing our part. I already told Miss Chrissy I want to go home to Texas."

"I know." Michael took aim at a stone a few feet away, worked up a spit, and shot. "But I don't like his plan. It's gonna take too long. I think we need to do something right now."

"All right. What do we do?"

Michael took his time, spitting two more times, before he voiced the idea that had been tripping around in his head. "We can be ourselves."

Sophie folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Are you being mean, Michael?"

"No, but that's my plan. I think we both should be mean."

"What? I don't understand."

Michael reached into his pocket and removed a pair of peppermint sticks. In a rare display of brotherly love, he offered one to Sophie. "Miss Chrissy says we are all family now, right?"

Sophie nodded. "She loves us."

"So what will happen to us once Miss Chrissy gets married?"

"You know, Michael. Remember? Mama and Miss Chrissy talked about it before she told Mr. Viscount Welby yes. Miss Chrissy promised we'd all live with her and her husband at his castle with the turrets and drawbridge and suits of armor in the hallway."

"I do remember." Michael took a long lick of his candy. "So, what would happen if Welby didn't want us to move to his castle?"

Sophie folded her arms and frowned. "What do you mean, Michael?"

"I think it's time you and me showed these Englishmen the kind of trouble a Texan can do when his dander is up. We need to make Mr. Welby hate us. Then, the minute he tells Miss Chrissy he doesn't want to let us live in his castle..."

"The minute Miss Chrissy cancels the wedding!" Sophie clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Oh, Michael, you're the smartest boy in all of England!"

"I know. I'm a Texan. All the others are English."

When she leaned over and kissed his cheek, he decided he'd been praised enough. He pushed her away. "C'mon, Soph, you're all sticky. Quit kissin' and help me plan."

Slipping off the pile of rocks, he stood with his hands shoved in his pockets while he rolled back and forth on his heels. He stared up above the treeline and whistled softly. Seconds later Sophie joined him, mimicking his actions.

* * *

Twenty yards away from the Kleberg children, Cole got disgusted with Welby's flowery wooing of Christina and turned away from the sight. His gaze fell upon Michael and Sophie standing apart from the rest of the picnickers, their heads bent together, their arms gesturing with enthusiasm. Something in their manner caught his interest, and he watched them for a good five minutes.

Mischief seemed to shimmer in the air around them. When they folded their arms and leveled intent gazes upon Welby, Cole suddenly felt better than he had all day. The children were up to no good. Cole knew it as a guaranteed natural fact.

And it had something to do with Welby.

"Well... well... well, Lord Windy," he murmured. "Something tells me I wouldn't want to be in your shoes for all the tea in England."

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

The next-to-last day of the Earl of Thornbury's house party dawned bleak and heavy with rain, a perfect accompaniment to Chrissy's mood. To say the past week had been a challenge to get through was like saying her chili had just a tiny bit of scald.

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