Be anything but a lady?
Aunt Harriet flashed in her mind like a demon nightmare, cooling her runaway desire. Well-bred gentlemen like Adam Harrington expected a lady for a wife, she’d said. And Haley must be a lady—at all times.
Surely this was one of those times Aunt Harriet had alluded to. Haley forced herself to lean away from him and lay her hairbrush on the vanity. She didn’t dare look in the mirror, fearing she’d see wanton desire in her face. What would Adam think of her if he saw it, too?
She looked embarrassed, but he’d expected she’d need some coaxing. Since she wasn’t out of her head with drink this time, it would be different. But did she have to look so damn virginal? It was bad enough she had on that white dressing gown; did she have to lower those long lashes of hers so demurely? And this room. He’d like to kick the decorator in the butt right now for convincing him to do it in powder blue and white. Why hadn’t he insisted on red with black lace?
Adam touched her shoulders and squeezed them gently. “Well, good night.” He bent and planted a kiss atop her hair, drinking in the sweet smell of her hair.
Haley cleared her throat. “Good night.”
He left her room. Next time, he’d bring a punch bowl with him.
They ate breakfast facing each other from opposite ends of the long dining room table, but spoke little. Adam kept his nose buried in Engineering News and sipped his usual Bloody Mary. The fact that after he’d come to her bedchamber last night he still considered her a lady brought Haley little comfort.
In the foyer, he and Bernard went through their usual morning ritual, and he left.
“Bernard? Did you get Kip his birthday present?”
“It will be delivered today, madam, the thirteenth.”
“What did you get him?”
“A poetry collection bound in Moroccan leather. Quite valuable.”
Just what every thirteen-year-old boy wanted. Haley forced a smile. “Thank you, Bernard.”
“Yes, madam.”
The butler was halfway across the foyer before she realized he was gone. “Bernard? When Edward returns with the carriage, have him wait out front for me, please.”
The instructions seemed to throw him. “But, madam—”
“It’s all right, Bernard. I’m not part of Mr. Harrington’s schedule.”
“Yes, madam.” He slipped silently from the foyer.
An hour later, Haley made sure to notice the driver when he jumped down from the carriage in front of the house. Chrissy seemed quite taken with the young man, and had even asked to come along today, just to see him again. Not particularly tall, but very muscular, Edward handed Haley up into the carriage with a confident air and a pleasant smile.
The house needed a woman’s touch, Adam had said, and Haley agreed. She jotted down a few notes as the carriage made its way into the city—places she wanted to shop, things she intended to purchase. The pieces Adam had furnished the house with were all good, but it needed some things to warm it up. Haley couldn’t bear the thought of her home looking as stark and cold as her father-in-law’s house.
She made Edward wait in the carriage, refusing his offer to follow along and handle the packages for her. It was just as well, since she found little that pleased her in the shops. Shortly after noon, she had him drive her to I Street and told him to have his own lunch and come back in an hour or so. Reluctantly, he drove away, leaving her alone on the busy street.
Haley craned her neck and looked up at a building that had seen better times. Holding her parasol securely in her hand, she went inside and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Faded gold lettering on the plate-glass door read Sacramento Building Company. She let herself in.
Vague recollections came to her, memories of being here as a child. Her father and uncle staring at charts and diagrams, her and Jay playing in the stairwell and in the alley out back.
The reception area needed a good cleaning now, and decent furniture; books, papers, folders, were littered everywhere.
“Hello? Jay? Are you here?”
A chair scraped the floor in one of the adjoining offices, and her cousin stuck his head out the door. His collar was open and his shirtsleeves were turned back.
“Haley? What on earth—” He waved a half-eaten chicken leg at her.
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