of the O’Malley home was that it could’ve fit inside the dining hall of her parents’ estate. Instead of silk damask wall panels, these walls were bare wooden planks. There were no ornate candelabras or wall sconces, only kerosene lamps placed in key areas about the room. Compared to her estate’s marble hallways, plush Oriental rugs and the finest furnishings money can buy, this home was indeed humble.
However, there was no denying it was an inviting space, cozy and cheerful and decorated with care. Blue-and-white gingham curtains hung at every window, and landscape scenes of mountains and meadows hung on the walls. A serpentine sofa with blue brocade cushions and walnut trim, along with two matching chairs, were situated around a charming stone fireplace.
“Not exactly what you’re used to, is it?” Josh stopped at her side.
“It’s lovely.”
He studied her, weighing her words and expression as if trying to gauge her sincerity.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.” Mary gestured to the sofa. “I’ll get the refreshments. Samuel, can you give me a hand?”
The couple passed through the dining area and rounded the corner into what she assumed was the kitchen. She couldn’t make out the words of their quiet conversation, but no doubt they were discussing her sister’s cowardice and lack of decency.
“Would you like to have a seat?”
Kate swallowed hard. Josh’s steady assessment set her nerves on edge.
“Yes, thank you.”
Moving to the nearest wingback chair, she sank gracefully onto the cushion and arranged her skirts with care. He didn’t join her. Instead he began to pace the length of the couch, hands in his pockets. Every now and then a muscle in his cheek twitched.
She could just imagine his thoughts. Wringing Fran’s neck, perhaps?
His parents returned at last with a tray of glasses filled with ginger water and a plate piled high with cookies, which they placed on the low coffee table in front of her. The sweet aroma of molasses teased her nose. Were these the crybabies, perhaps?
Mary handed her a glass. “Here you are.”
“Thank you.” The tart liquid washed the dust from her throat.
When they were settled in the sofa across from her, Mary said, “You’ve traveled a great distance, haven’t you, Kate? What are your plans now that you’re here?”
“I’m actually here to take photographs. And to visit my former governess, Charlotte Matthews.” Her gaze shot to Josh, who was still pacing. “Everything was arranged and she knew to expect me. She wasn’t at home, however.”
Absently, she rubbed the tender spot on her wrist where Tyler had held her.
“We thought you might know her whereabouts.” Josh had stopped pacing. Resting his weight against the sofa, his hands gripped the wooden trim. His gaze caught her movement and narrowed. Kate covered the spot with her hand.
“You know Charlotte? She’s a dear lady.” Mary frowned. “She’s been facing some hard times lately. Tyler isn’t coping well with the death of his wife. And now his sister, Carrie, is expecting and has been terribly ill. Charlotte left last week to be with her until the baby comes. I’m afraid she won’t be back for quite some time.”
Kate lowered her gaze to her lap. This wasn’t welcome news. Charlotte must’ve been too preoccupied to send her a letter explaining the situation.
“Miss Morgan needs a place to stay,” Josh spoke into the silence. “Do you know of anywhere?”
“You can stay here, of course.” Mary beamed. “With four males stomping around this house, I get lonesome for female company.”
“Mary, I’m not sure …” Samuel shot a meaningful glance at Josh.
Her smile faltered. “Oh, yes, I didn’t think—”
“She can sleep in my cabin,” Josh announced bitterly. “I won’t be needing it after all.”
“Are you sure?” Mary peered up at him, her eyes full of concern.
“Positive. It won’t take all that long to move my things back into my old bedroom.”
“Wait.” Kate hastily replaced her drink and came around the sofa to face him. “The last thing I want to do is push you out of your home.”
“A home I built for my future wife.” The pain of betrayal flashed hot in his eyes. “But she’s not here, is she?” Turning his back, he strode for the door. “You’re welcome to it.”
His boot had connected with the bottom step when he heard the door open and close and Kate call his name. What now? Couldn’t she see he wasn’t in the mood for company?
With great reluctance he pivoted back, squinting in the afternoon sunshine. She edged forward, her face shadowed by the hat’s brim. Loosening the ribbons of her reticule, she withdrew a long parchment envelope and held it out to him.
“I have a letter for you. From Francesca.”
He stared at the letter, not sure he wanted to read it. “What does it say?”
Her lips parted, and dark lashes swept down to hide her eyes. Pink washed her cheeks. “I don’t know. She didn’t share the contents with me and, to be honest, I’m glad she didn’t.”
Tucking the letter in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, Josh nodded in silent farewell and left her standing on the porch. If he didn’t get alone soon, he was going to come undone. What he wanted to do was hunt down the man who’d stolen his future and plant a facer on him. Then he’d confront Francesca and force her to confess her perfidy to his face.
But that wasn’t an option. Not today, anyway.
With effort, he ruthlessly tamped down the emotions clawing at his insides.
Ignoring the letter burning the lining of his suit, he gathered his clothes and books from his home, not stopping to linger and mourn his loss. To his relief, his mom was showing Kate the kitchen when he went inside the main house, so he was able to put his things away, change clothes and duck back outside without being seen.
During the entire trip to town and back to retrieve her luggage, the letter and what it might say dominated his thoughts. Why hadn’t Francesca had the decency to face him herself? Why put it off on her little sister?
Finally, when the wondering became too great, he pulled the envelope from his pocket and sank onto the top step of his porch.
Heart thumping against his rib cage so hard it hurt, he unfolded the paper and, holding it to his nose, inhaled her flowery scent. He felt achy all over.
Dearest Josh,
I am not sure what to write, for I know nothing I say will change your low opinion of me. Katerina was adamant that I give you some explanation, and I admit she was right. You must know that I care for you, but you and I together for a lifetime never would have worked. Percy can provide the type of life I need to be happy.
Sincerely,
