A Texan's Honour. Kate Welsh
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“I would be honored as long as you don’t feel put upon.”
“Put upon? I am more than happy to hear that name. I was blessed with a girl child but she didn’t live long. It is the greatest sorrow of my life.” Heddie blinked again and sniffed as Winston patted his wife on the back, comforting her.
Seeing the sweet affection the stern butler showed toward his wife, reminded Patience of how empty of tenderness her life had been these past years. She lived with an ache inside her that went so deep she didn’t know how there was room left for anything else.
“We haven’t another moment to waste if we are to be on time for the train. Let’s get ready for our adventure,” Winston said, then tugged on his vest and straightened his spine. He was back to his formal self.
She and Heddie followed without complaint but Patience had to stifle a grin. The old phony wouldn’t fool her again with his cold, stiff demeanor. He was as good and kind a husband to Heddie as any woman could hope for.
Children and a good and kind husband had been Patience’s girlhood dream but they were beyond her now. Her new dream was to live her life in peace—mistress of her own future. If the West could give her that, she would ask no more.
Chapter Three
The train station in New Jersey was awash with activity so Alex hung back watching for anyone who might take note of Patience. Apparently, busy men were blind to beauty. No one but him seemed to see her as she walked up ahead of him, between Heddie and Winston.
Alex couldn’t help but watch the enticing sway of her hips. This trip was going to be torture. He couldn’t help but want her, though he knew full well nothing could ever come of it. He took comfort in the knowledge that once the trip was over she would reside in town and he could avoid her for the most part. Knowing the temptation of her would be removed once they reached Tierra del Verde was his saving grace.
Shamed at the need she created in him, Alex dragged his eyes away. How could he lust after someone so wounded and damaged? Was he no better than his father? He would never forget the pitiful sounds of a young maid his father had cornered in the study before they moved to Adair. He’d been only nine years old and hadn’t believed his father when he’d claimed what he was doing was play, but he’d run when ordered. He’d never seen the girl again.
But he had heard that awful sound many times over the years. The move to Adair had changed nothing. By the time Jamie had banished the bastard from his estate, the only maids still working at Adair had been in their sixties.
Alex forced his mind away from the horrors of the past and onto the mission at hand—to save Patience from a man much like Oswald Reynolds. He watched her and analyzed how she must appear to the people milling about the station. Though he supposed she seemed a bit shy it helped her seem much younger than her twenty-six years. And still no one turned a hair as she passed.
It appeared her disguise was a success. Alex had easily found Patience’s portmanteau in the park but the contents had been of little help to her masquerade because all of her dresses were too elegant to belong to a servant’s daughter. Luckily, Mrs. Winston had remembered that the countess had left some dresses behind in New York. They were from her life as a schoolteacher in Pennsylvania’s coal country before her marriage to Jamie.
According to Mrs. Winston, Patience had donned the faded, homemade garments without the slightest hesitation. Determined to become a new person, for anyone within earshot to hear, she’d even begun calling the Winstons “Mum” and “Papa.” It was actually a brilliant plan for her to adopt their surname.
The last of her disguise hadn’t been as easily achieved as letting out the hem of Amber’s old dresses. Patience’s hair was too unique to be allowed to show. But a little boot polish carefully combed into her hairline had altered the coppery strands to drab brown. With the rest of those glorious tresses tucked up into her straw bonnet, she passed muster.
Still staying alert to any notice Patience drew, Alex continued to scan the crowd. No one paid her any particular attention. She was just a pretty girl traveling with her parents, but he did see someone take note of him. His blood began to pound in his head. As casually as he could, he let his gaze slide back past the man intently studying him. It was the oaf who’d appeared at Jamie’s door earlier in the day.
A few moments later, Alex stopped and purchased a New York Times from a newsboy, allowing the newly formed Winston family to enter the passenger car well ahead of him. He was rather sure no one would think he was a member of their party but the Pinkerton oaf might recognize Winston.
As Alex turned away from the newsboy, the Pinkerton stepped in front of him. “You didn’t say nothing about traveling.” It was an accusation pure and simple. But since Alex had caught the agent’s attention, Patience and Winston had slipped by unnoticed.
Alex blinked then narrowed his eyes in haughty annoyance. “Do I know you?”
“I was at your door just this morning,” the man said. His tone hinted that Alex either wasn’t particularly bright or was hiding something.
Allowing distant recognition to show in his expression, Alex replied, “Oh, yes. Seeking the countess’s new little maid, weren’t you? However, I must point out—you were actually on the earl’s doorstep, not mine. As none of it had a thing to do with me, I dismissed the entire conversation and returned to my packing.”
“You didn’t say nothing about packing, either. Where you heading?” the Pinkerton demanded, still clearly suspicious.
Alex’s heart pounded. He had to knock this hound off his scent. “You bloody Americans are so infernally rude. Why should I have mentioned my movements to you? As I noted, you were not at my doorstep but the earl’s. This business has nothing whatever to do with me. As I also stated, I owe you no explanations of my personal plans. Now if you will excuse me, I have a train to catch before my trunks go on without me.”
He walked off, heading away from the train bound for Philadelphia, where Jamie’s private car awaited and toward another one that was boarding. He stopped a passing conductor and asked an inane question so he’d have the opportunity to turn back toward the Pinkerton. Alex breathed a sigh of relief. The man had already passed the Philadelphia-bound train and was moving farther from Alex’s position, as well.
He thanked the employee for his help and hurried off to hop aboard the train bound for Philadelphia. He made it just as the conductor shouted a last call for riders to Philadelphia. A quick turn and survey of the remaining crowd showed that no one seemed to have taken any notice of him.
He could only hope he was right and that his ruse had worked.
It was midday of their second day on the rails. Jamie’s eighty-foot-long private car was opulent by anyone’s standards. On entering from the front of the coach, one encountered two staterooms and two bathrooms along a narrow hall plus fold-up sleeping berths for four crew members. Both he and Patience had tried to give their stateroom to the Winstons, but the older couple had refused and claimed two berths in the crew area he hadn’t thought he’d use until Patience almost literally fell into their lives.
A kitchen and formal dining area came next, though he hadn’t planned