A Man to Call My Own

Chapter 58

IT TOOK TWO CARRIAGES to transport them all, since no one wanted to stay behind and miss the confrontation with Albert's sister. It was too bad Albert wouldn't be there for it. Mortimer might be, though. He'd been heading in that direction. They might arrive in time to see the woman and all her belongings being tossed out on the street. Then again, Mortimer might not even know that all his wealth had been transferred to his lawyer. It really was possible that he'd regained his memory only recently and returned to Haverhill that day.

Chad held Marian back from getting in the first carriage, then waved it on and hailed another. Rather enterprising of him, to manage to get her alone amidst all the turmoil. She didn't mind. In fact, she was pleased to have a break from discussing her father's miraculous return from the dead.

"Are you all right?" he asked her as he put his arm around her and drew her close to him.

"I'm fine now. Really." And then she grinned at him. "We may have to elope though. Papa probably won't approve of you the way Aunt Kathleen does, and approval will be back in his hands now."

He raised a brow at her. "And you find that amusing?"

"No, I don't give a damn whether he approves or not. His return means next to nothing to me. Any feelings I had for him died long before I thought he did. He was a good provider, but he wasn't a good father any way you look at it."

"I would like to marry you before we return to Texas. I suppose I could ask his permission after this all gets straightened out."

"Don't bother. Marriages can't be accomplished that quickly here anyway."

He groaned. "The thought of having to wait, even a few more days—"

He didn't finish the thought. Instead, he started kissing her. A lot of passion surfaced in that kiss with amazing speed, pointing out the frustration he'd been living with for weeks. Her response was just as passionate. Trying to deny that she loved him had been so futile. And it felt so wonderful to admit it finally, and know for sure that her love was returned.

This really was the happiest day of her life—and one of the most confusing. The confusion returned as the carriage stopped in front of her old house, which, unfortunately, wasn't very far from the hotel.

She broke the kiss, said a bit breathlessly, "A ship's captain could marry us. Actually, I think I'd really enjoy being confined with you in a small cabin on the high seas. We don't have to return on the train with the others, do we?"

He groaned at the thought of having her all to himself for weeks at sea. "No, we don't. We don't need to be here either. I'd as soon hear about this secondhand."

She chuckled. "Your impatience is showing."

"Damned right it is," he growled, but then he sighed. "All right, let's get this finished. I'm not going to get your undivided attention until this strange situation is settled. We should have brought a posse. They tend to settle things real quick."

She was laughing as she left the carriage, but sobered instantly upon seeing her sister marching up the path to the front door of their old house. Knowing her, Amanda still considered it her house, and would walk right in. Which probably wasn't a good idea, since it wasn't really theirs anymore and wouldn't be until Albert was arrested and charged with his crimes.

So she ran up the path to beat Amanda to the door and pounded on it, blocking her sister from opening it herself. It was opened almost immediately by a butler neither of them recognized.

Amanda opened her mouth to demand entrance, but got beaten to the punch again, by the butler's saying, "Come in. You're expected."

That should have been all the warning Marian needed. If she hadn't just shared such a distracting interlude with Chad on the way over, she might not have been so surprised when she and the others followed the buder to the dining room and found both her father and Albert's sister sitting there having a quiet dinner together.

"Let's keep this civil, shall we?" Mortimer said, and waved a hand toward the chairs at the long table. "Sit down. Dinner is being served."

No one moved. Amanda was displaying some long-overdue shock. Even she could see that they'd been seriously wrong in their assumptions. And for their father to be so blase* about it, as if he hadn't done anything wrong. But that was so typical of him. He didn't like confrontations. That was one of the reasons Amanda had been spoiled so badly. He simply didn't want to deal with her tantrums, so he gave her whatever she wanted instead.

"Looks like you hit it right on the nose, Stuart. A total sham," Kathleen said, shaking her head.

"Is that you, Kathy?" Mortimer asked curiously.

"Sure is, brother." Kathleen took a seat at the opposite end of the long table. "But don't worry, I don't plan on staying long."

Mortimer shrugged. "You've aged well. I wasn't quite sure."

"Of course you were," Kathleen snorted. "You're just stalling."

He flushed slightly, but the woman sitting next to him threw her napkin down on the table angrily, and said, "Get out! All of you. We don't owe you any explanations!"

That brought Amanda out of her shock long enough to screech, "Who the hell are you?"

"Albert's sister," Marian supplied.

But woman was determined to speak for herself, "Your stepmother, though I was hoping I'd never have to say it—to you."

"You married her?" Amanda gasped at her father.

"Yes, it was necessary," Mortimer replied.

Not exactly a normal way to put it, which had Marian guessing, "She was your mistress, wasn't she?"

"Mortimer!" his wife complained. "I won't stand for being insulted in my own house."

"Hardly an insult if the shoe fits, gal," Kathleen said with a smirk.

Marian realized her aunt was enjoying this, a little payback after so many years, putting her brother on the spot. She was thankful she was able to read between the lines herself. Now that she was over her initial surprise, only her curiosity remained and most of it had already been satisfied. After all, she'd seen the baby.

"If this can't be discussed in a calm manner, I will have to ask you to leave," Mortimer said to the group at large, though he was looking at Amanda when he said it. Then to his wife, he added, "That goes for you as well."

She blushed furiously, put her napkin back on her lap, and resumed eating. She might be a shrew, and rude beyond the pale, but obviously, Mortimer didn't allow her to carry on in his presence.

From their party, only Kathleen and Stuart had sat down at the table. Amanda was too agitated to sit. Marian didn't think she'd be staying long enough to bother. Spencer and Chad were being particularly supportive in sticking close to their sides.

Kathleen sat back and said casually if still somewhat sarcastically, "So you married your mistress. Good for you. But why did you need to die to do it?"

He shrugged. "It was Albert's idea. I was simply going to get both daughters married off with a small dowry and be done with it. But he pointed out Amanda's temperament, and in the end I had to agree. It has been quite peaceful, having you out of the state, my dear."

Amanda was speechless for a moment, which allowed Kathleen to say, "So all this just because you figured Amanda would raise a ruckus if you married again? That's going to extremes just to avoid a tantrum or two."

Mortimer actually chuckled. "You always did have an odd way of putting things, Kathy. But no, that was only a small part of it."

"There's more?"

"Most definitely. I wasn't just starting fresh with a new wife, but a new family. I have a son now, you see."

"So that's why you married your mistress?"

He didn't answer directly, just said, "Regardless, I couldn't see giving the girls any of my money when I've become quite selfish in my affection for my son. They're females, after all. They will have husbands to support them. It would have been a total waste leaving them a portion of my estate when it would just have gone to their husbands—something I simply wasn't willing to allow now that I have a son."

"I understand how you managed to fool the girls," Kathleen said, "but how'd you manage to fool the whole town?"

He smiled at her. "Because hardly anyone actually knew about it."

"Impossible. A man of your prominence—"

"Let me finish," he cut in. "The news of my 'death,' the funeral, everything was planned on a very tight schedule, so the girls could be shipped off directly after the funeral, before they had a chance to talk to anyone. Their callers were turned away at the door for those few days before the funeral. No announcement was made in the newspaper, but the girls rarely read the paper to wonder about that. Only one of Amanda's beaux knew of my 'death' and we had a good tale lined up to tell him afterward, or anyone else who found out about the 'funeral,' but as it happens, he was so devastated by Amanda's rejection of him that he left town himself."

"And your servants? Did you pay them to keep silent?"

"That would have been a waste of good coin. No, the tale about my 'reappearance' worked very well for the few people who knew about the funeral. The explanation was it was merely 'assumed' that I died, but my body hadn't been recovered."

"Yes, I suppose that would keep people from wondering exactly who got buried."

"Exactly. And I pretended to have a broken leg, to account for my failure to make it back in time to prevent a funeral from taking place."

"When did you make your miraculous 'return'?"

"The day after the girls' ship sailed, of course. The whole thing was timed around that ship's departure date, to get the girls out of town before too many people found out about our little hoax. A few of my business associates were told of the 'death.' After all, the girls would have thought it strange if no one showed up for the funeral."

"I wouldn't have," Marian put in.

Her father snorted at her, but went on with his explanation. "But those who were told of the 'death' were handpicked because they weren't very astute. They readily accepted the explanation afterward, glad to have me back."

"And Amanda's endless stream of admirers?" Marian asked. "How did you explain her absence to them?"

"A planned tour of Europe before she settled down."

"That she bragged to no one about before she left?" Marian scoffed.

"She didn't want to witness their disappointment at learning that she'd be gone for a few months."

"And when she didn't return as they expected?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Marriage, of course."

Kathleen shook her head. "Such an elaborate scheme, and all for what? You aren't dead yet, Mort. Your wealth is still yours to do with as you please. If you didn't want any uproar over making the boy your only heir, you could have just kept it to yourself."

"And have them all fighting over my money when I am gone? They were known as heiresses. All of Amanda's suitors here expected a piece of the pie. If something did happen to me, I didn't want anyone fighting over my estate. No, no indeed, there will be no contention. And there would have been none if the girls had just stayed in Texas where they were sent. Why are they back here?" he asked with distinct annoyance.

"Because your brilliant-idea man wasn't so brilliant in sending along an accounting of your estate that Amanda would recognize as a lot of bull. We thought Bridges had robbed the girls of their inheritance. That's the only reason we're here."

He sighed. "Yes, he can be quite stupid at times."

His wife sputtered indignantly on her brothers behalf, but still kept her mouth shut. Mortimer might have married her to get their son under his roof, but he probably didn't treat her as a real wife. It was doubtful that there was any affection between them because he'd apparently transferred all his love to the boy.

"I still don't see why you didn't just wait until the girls married and settled elsewhere. People do start new families late in life, Mort. It happens all the time."

"Yes, in retrospect, that might have been best. But it was preferable to have Amanda away from Haverhill. And it would have been difficult to arrange a marriage for her elsewhere, when she had no desire to leave town. Besides, she's too jealous not to have caused trouble when I married and acknowledged Andrew as my only heir."

"So what you're saying is you had to fake your death just because you spoiled your daughter so rotten that even you don't know how to deal with her?"

"Basically—yes."

He was blushing again, acknowledging his weakness. Marian understood perfectly, having lived with them both. She knew the kind of uproar Amanda could cause and knew that her father had never liked scenes of that sort. It didn't even surprise her, really, that he'd come up with a plan to get Amanda out of the picture completely. He already had a new favorite. Amanda meant next to nothing to him now; rather he considered her a liability.

Marian could care less, thankfully. But she actually felt a little sorry for her sister. Just deserts? No, his actions went beyond that. This was having the father she'd adored her whole life fake his death just to get her out of his life. And that was really the only reason he'd done it. He'd made Amanda what she was with his selfish favoritism; but he wouldn't own up to that, wouldn't consider himself at fault. The money was a minor issue. He just didn't want to be bothered with a spoiled daughter he didn't care about anymore.

It would have been much, much better if they had continued to think he was dead.

She glanced at her sister. Amanda's eyes were a little glassy with emotion. Her fists were clenched at her sides, but she hadn't blown up as everyone expected.

"You're a pathetic coward, Papa," Amanda said, surprising them all with her quiet tone. "I knew you weren't dead. It just never felt like it, so I didn't accept it. It feels like it now, though."

Having said that, Amanda turned and left the room, and the house. There was only silence in her wake for several long moments. Then Spencer walked slowly to the end of the table where Mortimer sat. The older man started to rise in alarm, because the younger man's face contained all the anger that had been missing from Amanda's. Spencer's fist sat him back down, landing squarely between his nose and mouth, doing damage to both.

"Don't worry," the Texan said in disgust. "I'm done. That was merely for my wife, since she's too much a lady to do it herself. And she doesn't need your money, old man. She'll never want for anything while I'm around."

Spencer didn't wait for a reply, didn't want one. He did spit on the floor, though, before he followed his wife out.

Stuart stood up, stretched, held his hand out to Kathleen. "You were lucky to get away from this sickness before it infected you, darlin'. We ready to go home?"

"Hell, yes." She grinned at him and took his hand to leave. She paused at the door, though, to glance back at her brother one last time. "You know, Mort, you get out of life what you give. Ironic, isn't it, that no one gave a hoot when they thought you were dead. And you just spit on the only person who might have cared that you're still alive. Good thing she's come to her senses."

Marian and Chad were the only ones left. Mortimer hadn't bothered to glance her way even once. His wife was still eating. That was almost comic. She cared so little for him that she didn't even bother to pretend some concern over the blood he was wiping off his face.

Chad stood behind Marian, gripped her shoulders in sympathy, and said in a voice that carried down the table, "Want me to shoot him for you? I will."

She burst out laughing, not at all surprised that she could laugh under the circumstances. Her father simply had no effect on her anymore.

She turned around, grinned at Chad, and caressed his cheek. "You say the sweetest things."

He rolled his eyes at her. Her response let him know that what happened here today hadn't hurt her the way it had Amanda.

"I believe you know where the door is," Mortimer said behind them in a cold tone.

Marian merely glanced over her shoulder. She wouldnt have said anything, didn't really feel a need to confront him as the others had done, but the glare coming her way just rubbed her wrong. This man had ignored her all her life—except when he wanted to get rid of her, then she'd had his full attention.

"I'd pity you," she said in a conversational tone. "But you know, you just aren't worth it. I'd pity your new son, too, but he won't be worth it either after you get done raising him to be just like you—that's if he's even really yours or just—"

"Get out!" Mortimer cut in furiously.

"Or just another travesty concocted by a crafty lawyer who seems to prefer lies to the truth," Marian finished and, noting that Albert's sister was blushing vividly, added with a chuckle, "Oh, that's priceless. Enjoy your new family, Papa."