A Man to Call My Own

Chapter 53

CHAD KNOCKED BRISKLY ON the door. The moment of truth was at hand, and he couldn't remember ever being quite so nervous. But, then, his future happiness was at stake.

He was going to lay his cards on the table and tell Marian everything. The delay in confronting Bridges had decided him. Three more days at loose ends with nothing to occupy him except his regrets. No thank you. So he knocked on her door. She'd either tell him to go to hell or—or make him a very happy man.

It finally broke through his nervousness that he'd been knocking for a very long time with no answer. He tried opening the door. It wasn't locked. And the room was empty. Well, what the hell?

He knew she wasn't with Red. He tried Amanda's room, but got an annoyed shout from Spencer inside, "Go away, we're sleeping!"

Yeah, right, it was obvious what those two were doing, but that meant Marian wasn't with them either. So where the hell was she?

He went downstairs to check the lobby. Mostly empty. He checked the hotel dining room. Completely empty, but then it was midafternoon, long past Iunchtime and too early for dinner. Worry began to set in.

He paced about in the lobby for a while, trying to decide whether to go out and look for her in a town he didn't know at all—meaning he wasn't likely to find her—or to wait there in the lobby and catch her when she returned. She walked through the front doors before he reached a decision.

He recognized her even with the veil. There probably wasn't anything she could do to disguise herself from him anymore. But then he'd gotten into the habit, from the day she'd removed her spectacles for good to view all of her, not just the obvious. He'd never again be in doubt of which sister he was dealing with. Other than wearing the same faces, they weren't identical at all.

She didn't notice him approaching her until he blocked her path. "I was about to send out a posse."

"Very funny," she replied, and tried to move around him. "I haven't been gone that long."

He blocked her again. "You weren't supposed to be gone at all."

She stiffened with that reminder, and told him, "I took precautions, or do you think I like looking at the world through black lace."

"I think you like driving me crazy with worry," he gritted out.

"How so? When I barely give you a thought?" she shot back dryly.

He growled, "Come with me," took her hand, and started dragging her out of the hotel.

"No! Stop it!"

He didn't. And it was all he could do to keep from being as snappish as she was. He didn't know why she was that way. He sure as hell knew why he would be. He said not another word. Instead he hailed a passing hack. He shoved her into the enclosed carriage the moment it pulled up to the curb. Marian sat on the seat opposite him and glared.

"Just where do you think you're taking me?" she asked in a tightly contained tone.

"Nowhere in particular, just somewhere we can talk without being interrupted."

"Well, you might want to give the driver directions. He's not going to budge without them."

He noted her smirk. She wasn't going to make this at all easy.

"This is your town, not mine," he said. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"I'd suggest you stop trying to abduct me and let me return to my room to rest before dinner."

He ignored her dramatic interpretation of what he was doing, said, "Actually, your room sounds about perfect. Shall we?" and he opened the carriage door again.

"Oh, now you're asking?" she snapped, and stepped back onto the curb, then threw back, "It's perfect for me, but you aren't invited."

She marched back into the hotel without him. Chad clenched his teeth, tossed a few coins at the driver with his apology, and hurried after Marian. She was rushing up the stairs, trying to beat him to her room so she could no doubt lock the door on him. He did some rushing of his own to catch up to her and actually had to run the last few steps down the corridor to get to her door first.

He opened it. She sighed, brushed by him, removed her bonnet, and tossed it on the seat of the only chair in the room. A subtle warning that she didn't expect him to be there long enough to get comfortable.

He closed the door, decided to lock it as well. She heard the click. Her back stiffened. He crossed his arms, leaned back against the door, waited. She finally turned to look at him, but only long enough to note where he was, then glanced away again. He'd gotten used to being treated as if he weren't there, but this was one time he wouldn't allow it.

"Look at me."

She did, even raised a brow at him. He'd expected another argument, giving him a good excuse to ask why she never looked at him anymore, really looked at him. He would probably have found the answer interesting, but it was just as well he didn't ask. He didn't want to make her any more defensive than she already was.

"You could relax," he told her. "This won't take long—then again, it might."

"I'm perfectly relaxed," she replied, though her tone and posture belied that. Which she must have realized, because she added, "Aside from the fact that it's highly improper for you to be in here."

"Who's going to know?"

"Hardly the point," she replied in a huff, then sighed. "Very well, say what you're so determined to say, then please leave."

"I was going to wait until you settled things here in Haverhill. If you got your inheritance back, fine, you'd be relieved. If not, fine, I'd have an edge."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm getting to it. Just letting you know why I didn't make this confession sooner."

"I'm not a priest. Why don't you—"

"Can you stop being sarcastic for one minute?" he asked her.

She closed her mouth, but was back to glaring at him. "If you're about to tell me that you have feelings for me, please don't. You made your preference clear long ago, and it wasn't me."

"Is that what you really think?"

"It's what I know," she replied. "It's what I witnessed. It's what—"

"Oh, hush up, Mari. You really don't know the half of it."

She stared at him. She started tapping her foot. She was about as receptive to hearing what he had to say as an out-of-heat cat was to a barnyard tom. He supposed he should have waited after all. Something had been upsetting her all week. She'd gotten more and more touchy with each passing day, a mood hardly conducive to the romantic overtures he wanted to make.

But he'd already put his foot in it. Not to tell her now would just make matters worse.

He crossed the few feet to stand in front of her. He wanted to draw her into his arms, but she was too tense. He had so much to say, but he was sure now that she didn't want to hear any of it. She'd taken a real dislike to him, obviously, and probably because of her sister. He could at least clear that up... .

"I was attracted to Amanda, yes. I don't deny that. I was planning to let her know about it after she got settled in with your aunt, but only if her attitude improved. I convinced myself the trip was responsible for her behavior, that once it was over, she'd change and become less annoying and more likable. It didn't happen. If anything, she got worse. So no, all plans for courting her ended prior to what happened in that stable."

"Don't bring that up, please."

He shook his head. "I have to. You need to know that it was a mistake."

"The first thing you've said that I agree with," she returned.

"No, it was a bigger mistake than you could possibly realize. I had no reason to suspect that she was pretending to be you, so who do you suppose I thought I was making love to?"

She blushed furiously, hearing that. "I know who you wanted it to be."

"Do you?" He frowned. "No, I don't think so. But then maybe you're forgetting that I kissed you twice prior to that day?"

"Once," she corrected.

"Twice," he insisted. "Don't try to deny again that it was you that night we camped by the road, you, not her, who tried to help me with Leroy. And yes, I know. At first, I thought it was your sister. I even let you convince me for a while that it was. But I don't buy it. That kiss just didn't feel right, when I was thinking it was her. But the night on the porch, that kiss felt perfect."

Her blush got worse. She turned away with it from him. He tried to draw her back, but she shrugged off his hand.

"You're confusing the issue," she stated.

"The whole damn thing is confusing. I'm just trying to clear it up."

She swung back around, and said accusingly, "You're making it worse! You kissed me that night on the porch just to make a comparison, not because you had any desire to kiss me. And I warned you that Amanda enjoys playing tricks of pretense like that, so you thought it was her from the start that day in the stable. You even said—" She paused, looking away again. "She told me what you said."

"What? Or more to the point, why would you believe her when you know she lies?"

"If anyone is lying, it's you," she insisted.

"Dammit, Mari, I swear I thought it was you I was making love to. I was completely shocked that night when Amanda confessed that it was her. I wanted nothing to do with her by that point, much less marry her. She set up the trap, and I fell right into it. And I would have had to marry the wrong woman if Spencer hadn't intervened. It was you I wanted—and still do. I want you so much I can't think straight— which is probably why I'm making a mess of this confession."

"No, the problem is that I don't believe you. So why don't you do us both a favor and—"

He yanked her into his arms. His kiss was fraught with frustration, despair, and some anger because of it. And regret. A lot of regret, because it would probably be the last time he ever kissed her.

He'd expected a lot of things from this encounter, mostly Marian's saying it was too late. But he hadn't expected flat out disbelief. It was so frustrating! If he could convince her of the truth, he was afraid he'd then get that "it's too late," from her. So either way, he'd lose, and that infuriated him. She was too important to him to lose.

He set her back, and said harshly, "You can believe that. And while you're at it, figure out that I love you before it really is too late."