Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

About The Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Copyright

“I thought you were a nightmare,
but you’re real, aren’t you?”

Haley questioned.

“Not every woman considers an evening with me a nightmare,” Adam countered.

Haley flopped her hand onto her forehead. “I’m happy for you, truly I am, Mr.—” She looked up at him. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

Annoyed, Adam sat up straighter. “Don’t you remember anything that happened?”

“On the contrary, the point where you announced our marriage is forever etched in my mind.” Haley shook her head slowly. “As if I’d been run through with a sword—a rusty sword—a dull, rusty sword with ragged edges.”

“You must remember…” Adam frowned and waved his hand across the bed.

Haley shrugged helplessly. “No.”

“Not even when you and I…”

She shook her head.

“Or when you—”

“I did something?” Haley’s eyes bulged. “What did I do?”

“You did it three times—I’d think you’d remember!”

Dear Reader,

Multitalented author Judith Stacy is back this month with a delightful new story called The Marriage Mishap. When virtual strangers Adam Harrington and Haley Caufield wake up in bed together and discover they have gotten married, Adam quickly realizes that it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Haley is not so sure, and her new husband has to figure out how to keep them married long enough to convince her that their wedding blunder can lead to wedding bliss. Don’t miss the fun.

In Lord Sin by Catherine Archer, a rakish nobleman and a vicar’s daughter, whose lack of fortune and social position make her completely unsuitable, agree to a marriage of convenience, and discover love. And in Elizabeth Mayne’s Lady of the Lake, a pagan princess surrenders her heritage and her heart to the Christian warrior who has been sent to marry her and unite their kingdoms.

Our fourth title for the month is Cally and the Sheriff by Cassandra Austin, a lively Western about a Kansas sheriff who falls head over heels for the feisty young woman he’s sworn to protect, even though she wants nothing to do with him.

Whatever your tastes in reading, we hope you enjoy all of our books, available wherever Harlequin Historicals are sold.

Sincerely,

Tracy Farrell

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Harlequin Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

The Marriage Mishap
Judith Stacy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JUDITH STACY

began writing as a personal challenge and found it a perfect outlet for all those thoughts and ideas bouncing around in her head. She chose romance because of the emotional involvement with the characters, and historicals for her love of bygone days.

Judith has been married to her high school sweetheart for over two decades and has two daughters. When not writing, she haunts museums, historical homes and antique stores, gathering ideas for new adventures in the past.

To Judy and Stacy—

the most supportive, understanding daughters

on the planet.

To David—

I couldn’t have written a romance without you.

Chapter One

Sacramento, California1894

Whose shirt was she wearing?

Haley Caufield lifted her head off the pillow and squinted down at the strange white linen shirtsleeve draped over her hand. Her breath caught. It was a man’s shirt.

Curled on her side, she craned her neck and peered over the satin coverlet. Bright morning sunlight streamed through the lace curtains across the room, piercing her eyes and sending a dull ache reverberating through her head. The room came into focus: marble-topped table, green velvet settee, beveled mirror.

Ribbons of fear threaded through her. Nothing looked familiar.

The bed behind her suddenly shifted of its own volition, and an arm snaked beneath the covers and around her waist. Fingers brushed her bare belly and settled between her breasts.

Haley froze. She pressed her lips together to hold in the scream that burned her throat. Someone was in bed with her!

The arm tightened and pulled her across the bed, molding her against a hard chest; muscular thighs eased against the backs of her legs. Haley’s heart slammed into her ribs, pounding with an intensity that escalated the dull ache in her head to a pulsating throb.

Slowly she pushed her thick brown hair aside and looked back over her shoulder. A man!

A little whimper slipped from her throat. Panic overwhelmed her. A strange shirt, a strange bed, a strange room—and a man. What had she done?

Haley turned her head away, her mind spinning. How could this have happened? She’d never been on an unchaperoned outing before, never allowed a man to so much as kiss her—not even Reginald Farnsworth.

The image of her mother flashed before her eyes, and Haley nearly groaned aloud at the memory of her dire warning about coming to Sacramento alone. The entire twenty-three years of Haley’s life had been spent safeguarding her reputation. How could she face her mother again? The woman still brooded over the Farnsworth episode. What would she say if she found out about this?

Haley cringed. If her mother ever discovered the real reason she’d come to Sacramento, she’d probably never speak to her again.

The hand between her breasts shifted, and Haley tensed. A wave of nausea swept over her. When word of this scandal got out, she’d be ruined.

Haley pressed her fingers to her lips, afraid she’d be physically ill. The deep, even breathing of the man behind her echoed in her aching head. As if nothing were amiss, as if the world hadn’t just come crashing down, he lay sleeping, oblivious of everything.

A glimmer of hope blossomed in Haley’s mind. Maybe, just maybe, she could slip away without waking him, and no one would ever know of this debacle.

Holding her breath, Haley reached beneath the covers and closed her hand around the man’s forearm. The coarse hair covering his thick, heavy muscles felt foreign against her fingers. Carefully she lifted his arm and dislodged his hand from between her breasts. Hope flickered. This just might work.

“Not so fast.”

Haley gasped as the man quickly captured her waist and rolled her onto her back. He pushed himself above her on one elbow. Dark stubble covered his firm chin and square jaw. Tousled black hair hung over his forehead. Deep green eyes assessed her lazily, playfully. Haley swallowed hard.

“You’re not trying to get away from me, are you?” He dipped his head and nuzzled her neck.

Haley’s mind reeled as strange sensations assailed her. His lips, soft yet demanding. His body, powerful against hers. She wanted to push away, but was afraid to touch him. He exuded an animal strength.

Haley licked her dry lips. “Well, yes, I have to go now.”

He lifted his head and frowned down at her. “All night includes the following morning.”

What was he talking about? Haley shifted away, but he tightened his grip on her. She forced a smile. “Actually, I don’t think it’s morning any longer.”

He shrugged indifferently. “I don’t give a damn what time of day it is. I’ll pay you extra.”

“Pay? What are you—?”

He lowered his head to her neck again. “After last night, you’re worth any price.”

Haley gasped, and her body went rigid, blocking out the feel of his mouth on her skin. “You think I’m a…a…”

He lifted his head again. “Look, honey, I’m not paying to hear you talk.”

Haley swatted at him. “Get off of me! Get your vile, disgusting self off of me this instant!”

He pushed himself higher on his elbow. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

She thrashed wildly, kicked back the covers and sat up. “How dare you say such a thing to me! I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life! Where did you ever get the idea that I am one of those…those…soiled doves?”

A wry grin tugged at his lips, and he gestured with his hand. “Well…”

Haley looked down and gasped in horror at the sight of her shirt hanging open, her bare breasts peeking out. She grabbed the fabric and pulled it tight against her.

“Call yourself what you like, honey, but it’s getting late, and I’ve got things to do today. Come on.”

She slapped his hand. “Don’t touch me!”

“Maybe you’d better explain what you’re doing in my bed.” He leaned back against the pillow and dug his knuckles into his eyes.

Haley felt her cheeks burn at the sight of his wide chest, covered with crisp, dark hair. A new wave of humiliation washed over her. “This is your room?”

He gazed around, then pushed his fingers through his hair and shrugged. “No, I guess it’s not. Is it yours?”

“Of course not!” Hot indignation burned in her. She couldn’t bear another second of this.

Haley scrambled from the bed, clutching her shirt closed as a fresh tide of embarrassment engulfed her. Her gown lay on the floor, beside his trousers. One of his socks rested atop her stocking. Her petticoat hung from a chair, with his undershirt draped over it.

Mortified, Haley bent to retrieve her stocking, then remembered that the shirt she wore barely covered her thighs. She froze and glanced back over her shoulder. He lay propped against the pillow, the sheet barely covering him, one arm resting casually over his drawn-up knee, watching her and looking comfortable and relaxed, as if he woke every morning of his life in a strange bed with a strange woman beside him.

Cautiously she bent at the knees and snatched up her stocking, then rushed around the room, grabbing her clothing. Then she dashed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Her head throbbed painfully and her stomach rolled as she stood by the sink, trembling. How could this have happened? She’d had only one thing on her mind when she left San Francisco, and that would be scandalous enough if word ever got out.

She had no notion of where she was or how she’d gotten here, but one thing was certain. She was leaving immediately, and would never lay eyes on that man or this place again.

Haley dropped her bundle of clothing on the tile floor—evening wear from the wedding she’d attended yesterday with Aunt Harriet. Haley shuddered at the thought of going out in public now, with no hat, no gloves, exposing her bare shoulders at midday. What would Aunt Harriet say?

She didn’t care. She would get to the safety of her aunt’s house and bribe the kitchen servants to let her sneak inside. She’d climb up the rose trellis, if she had to.

As Haley frantically sorted through her clothing, her heart sank into the depths of her churning stomach. Not everything was here. In her haste, she’d left some of her clothing in the other room. And that would mean parading around the bedchamber again, with those deep green eyes scrutinizing her every movement. Haley slumped against the wall.

A soft knock sounded on the door. Haley jumped. It was him. What if he came in after her? What if he wouldn’t let her leave?

His deep voice came from the other side of the door. “You left your handbag. I thought you’d need it.”

Haley tossed the tangled mass of hair off her shoulder. She needed her handbag desperately. Drawing in a deep breath, she stood behind the door and opened it slightly.

Her purse passed through the opening. “I found it on the table.”

She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

“This was by the door.” A silk stocking appeared.

She pulled it from his fingers.

“On the bureau.” Her corset dangled in the opening.

She gasped and snatched it away.

“Under the covers.” Pink ruffled drawers passed through.

Haley stared, horrified, at the garment and mumbled a fervent prayer that the floor would open and swallow her whole.

“That’s all I found…so far.”

It was enough. Haley pushed the door closed and dug through her purse. She found her comb and twisted her hair into a simple chignon. The fasteners on her gown were nearly impossible without help from her maid, but she closed as many of them as she could. She dared not look at herself in the mirror. Pulling herself up to her greatest height, Haley walked into the bedchamber again.

Jingling coins drew her attention to the window. Hands thrust deep in his pockets, the man stood looking outside, his profile outlined by the bright, sunlit sky. He wore tan trousers and a sleeveless undershirt that molded itself to his tight belly and wide chest; dark hair curled above the scooped neck. His shoulders were straight, his arms muscular.

Haley held up the white linen shirt she’d brought from the bathroom and willed herself not to blush. “This must belong to you.”

He accepted it and dropped it on the table in front of the window. “I think we’re at the Madison.”

“A hotel?” Haley peered out the window at the trolley cars, horses and carriages on the street below. Her stomach rolled violently. “We’re at a hotel?”

He nodded. “Do you need help with your gown?”

Stunned by the familiarity of his offer, she looked up at him sharply. “No—I…”

He stepped behind her. “We can’t have you walking through the lobby with your gown undone. People might get the wrong idea.”

She felt his hands against her back as he closed the fasteners. Her skin tingled at his touch.

He stepped away and slid his hand into his pocket again, jingling his coins. “Do you want me to have breakfast sent up for you?”

Haley pressed her palm against her stomach. “No, no, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat again.”

“Head hurt, too?”

She looked up at him. “Yes. How did you know?”

“You have a hangover. What you need is another drink.” He rubbed his forehead. “And so do I.”

Her back stiffened. “I do not drink. Why, I only took one sip of champagne yesterday to toast the bride and groom. After that, I only drank the punch.”

“You were at the wedding?”

“Yes, I was.”

He gazed down critically. “As an invited guest?”

Her chin went up a notch, and she clamped her mouth shut. He didn’t need to know that her aunt was a friend of the bride’s family. Nor did he need to learn that she had arrived in Sacramento less than a week ago, escaping the fiasco in San Francisco that had turned her own mother against her and set her on an unexpected path.

He shrugged. “Well, remember not to drink the punch at any more weddings. It’s the best way to avoid a hangover—and a lot of other things, too.”

Haley pinched the bridge of her nose and drew in a deep breath. So, she’d gotten drunk out of her mind and fallen into bed with a strange man. How humiliating.

Pulling together the last shreds of her dignity, Haley looked up at him. “I’m leaving, Mr.—”

He gave her a stiff bow. “Adam Harrington, at your service, madam.”

“Harrington?” Haley thought she might faint now. He was a member of one of the oldest, most prominent families in Sacramento, and she’d behaved like a common streetwalker. With all the aplomb she could muster, Haley turned to leave.

“Wait. Let me see you home.”

“I hardly think that would be proper, Mr. Harrington.” When he grinned, she realized how ridiculous she sounded, and that made her angry.

“You’ll at least need money for a hansom cab.” He searched through his trousers, then picked up his coat from the chair and went through the pockets.

Her chin went up. “Mr. Harrington, I have no idea how I came into these circumstances, but I am fairly certain it couldn’t have happened without some help on your part. So you can rest assured that you have done more than enough for one day. In fact, I would say that if I never lay eyes on you again in my life, that would be too soon.” Jaw set, Haley marched across the room.

“Excuse me?”

Annoyed, Haley stopped at the door. “What?”

“Would you happen to be Haley Caufield?”

She turned and saw him reading from a crumpled paper he’d removed from his coat pocket. “Yes, I am.”

“Haley Carissa Caufield?”

A chill swept up her spine. “Yes.”

“You might want to wait a minute before leaving.” She sighed heavily. “Why would I want to do that?”

He looked up at her. “Because, Miss Caufield, it would seem that you and I are married.”

Chapter Two

“Breathe…That’s right. Just keep breathing.”

Haley lifted her head, and the room spun around her before strong hands pressed her onto the pillow again. She blinked, and a face came into focus, freezing the image in her mind. She moaned. “I thought you were a nightmare, but you’re real, aren’t you?”

Adam sat down on the edge of the bed. “Not every woman considers an evening with me a nightmare.”

Haley moaned again and flopped her hand onto her forehead. “I’m happy for you, truly I am, Mr.—” She looked up at him. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

Annoyed, he sat up straighter. “Don’t you remember anything that happened?”

“On the contrary, the point where you announced our marriage is forever etched in my mind.” Haley shook her head slowly. “As if I’d been run through with a sword, a rusty sword—a dull, rusty sword with ragged edges.”

“You must remember…” Adam frowned and waved his hand across the bed.

Haley shrugged helplessly. “No.”

“Not even when you and I…?”

She shook her head.

“Or when you—”

“I did something?” Haley’s eyes bulged. “What did I do?”

“You did it three times—I’d think you’d remember,” Adam grumbled, and rose from the bed.

“Well, do you remember?” she asked challengingly.

He glared at her with wounded pride. “And who says marriage doesn’t have its tender moments?”

“Are you sure we’re really married?” Haley sat up, and the room spun again. Adam grasped her shoulders and steadied her; his hands felt strong.

His gaze captured hers. “Maybe you should lie down.”

That was how she’d gotten into this mess in the first place. Haley looked up, and for an instant felt lost in his green eyes, brilliant as emeralds and nearly as mesmerizing. She pushed his hands away and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Where’s that paper you found?”

Adam took it from the bedside table. “Executed by Judge Williams himself, and properly witnessed by Harry and Laurel Oliver.”

“The newlyweds?” Haley opened the paper and read the words, saw the signatures and the official seal.

“I’ve known Harry Oliver for years. He works at the courthouse.” Adam shrugged. “I don’t know how it can get any more legal than that.”

“We got married at someone else’s wedding?” Haley curled her lips distastefully. “Is that done?”

Adam plowed his fingers through his hair. “It must have been at the reception, because I remember the ceremony.”

Haley’s gaze came up quickly and met his. “You don’t remember, either? I thought it was only me.”

Adam shifted, and his gaze wandered across the bed. “Parts of it, I remember very well.”

Haley’s cheeks pinkened. “At least this explains how I got here.”

Adam crossed the room and retrieved his shirt. “And how I got here, as well. Believe me, Miss Caufield, I’m not in the habit of deflowering innocent young women.”

Haley looked back at the bed, then sprang off it. She smoothed down her gown, reaching for any modicum of dignity she could muster. “This can’t be happening.”

He looked back at her. “Some women would be pleased to find themselves married to me, Miss Caufield.”

She ignored his claim. “We have to do something.”

Adam shoved his arms into his shirtsleeves. “Such as?”

Haley touched her finger to her chin. “Harry and Laurel, the newlyweds. They witnessed the whole thing. Let’s talk with them.”

“Honeymooning in New York. Won’t be back for two months, maybe more.”

“Then how about this judge? Maybe he—”

“I doubt Judge Williams will take too kindly to having his word questioned.”

“Is it too late for an annulment?”

His gaze roamed the bed, and he drew in a big breath. “I would say it’s far too late for that.”

“Then that only leaves…” Haley’s stomach pitched.

“A divorce?” Adam’s gaze met hers as he closed the buttons on his shirt. “Now there’s a scandal our families will enjoy.”

Haley pressed her fingers to her lips. Another scandal. Her mother had nearly disowned her over Reginald. What would she do if she found out about this?

Haley stepped closer. “It wouldn’t be a scandal if they didn’t know about it.”

“You’re saying you really don’t want to be married?” Adam frowned as he shoved his shirttail into his trousers.

The haughty, indignant arch in his brows wound Haley’s stomach into a tighter knot. She pulled herself up straighter. “I suppose that comes as a surprise to you, Mr.—Harrington, was it?—but I have definite plans for my own future, and they do not include a husband.”

Adam pulled on his waistcoat and jacket, and stuffed his cravat into his pocket. “I don’t think either of us is in the proper frame of mind to make such a decision.”

“My mind is quite made up, Mr. Harrington. And I’ll thank you to keep this entire unfortunate incident to yourself. I’m leaving.” Haley headed for the door.

“Wait.” Adam followed her across the room.

She grasped the doorknob and looked up to find him standing over her. His height was overwhelming. She barely reached his shoulder. “What?”

He reached over her head and held the door closed. “Isn’t a husband allowed a goodbye kiss?”

Haley’s knees nearly gave out. A heat, an aura, engulfed her as Adam eased closer. His gaze captured hers, and all rational thought left her head. He folded his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. She felt the strength in his arms, tempered by the gentleness of his touch.

“Well?” A tiny grin pulled at his lips.

She tried to protest, but couldn’t speak the words. Visions, images, flashed in her mind.

Adam touched his mouth to hers, kneading them together gently until she parted her lips. He moaned deep in his throat as his tongue met with hers in an intimate exchange. She was sweet, giving, exquisite…just as he remembered.

Desire coiled in his belly as further recollections surfaced in his mind. He pulled his lips away and kissed a hot trail down her cheek, nestling against her neck. She tasted good. He wanted more.

“We don’t have to call off the marriage right this minute,” he whispered against her ear. “Another hour or two wouldn’t make any difference. How about it?”

Adam lifted his head and looked down to find Haley staring at him. Her lips were wet and swollen with his kiss, and her body was nearly limp in his arms. But her eyes, deep blue eyes, were wide with fright.

They’d made love all night, done wonderful things with each other, and he didn’t understand her reaction. He wanted to be mad, but couldn’t. Instead, he stepped away and pulled in a deep breath.

“Well, at least let me walk my wife down to get a cab.”

Befuddled, Haley stepped aside as he opened the door and walked with him down the carpeted corridor. The air was cooler here, and it helped clear her mind—enough for her to worry that they would be seen in the hotel together.

At the head of the grand staircase that descended to the lobby, Haley stopped. “I’d rather go down alone.”

Adam peered down the stairs. The double doors at the main entrance were only a short walk across the lobby. Several men sat on the settees and others stood near the front desk. Haley in her evening gown— modest as it was—certainly would catch their attention. And suddenly he didn’t like the idea of those men ogling her.

He shook his head. “I’ll see you to the cab.”

Haley started to protest, but he closed his hand over her elbow and led her down the stairs. She took heart in the strength that radiated up her arm.

Crossing the lobby, Haley kept her head down, though she could feel the stares of everyone there. At least she was new in town and almost no one knew her, the chances that she’d be recognized were slim.

She lifted her gaze for an instant, calculating the distance to the doorway. Only a few more feet and she’d be safely out of the Madison Hotel, safely away from the man clinging to her elbow, safely on the path to salvaging her reputation, not to mention getting her plans back on track. Her spirits lifted. No one would ever know.

Aunt Harriet stepped into the doorway.

Haley dug in her heels and pulled back. What was her aunt doing here at the Madison on a Sunday afternoon? Her first instinct was to run, but the man at her elbow anchored her in place. She pulled against him.

He held tight and looked down at her. “What the devil is the matter with you?”

Her breath came in quick puffs as her aunt’s gaze fell on her. She watched in horror as the older woman’s expression turned from surprise to anger.

Suddenly Aunt Harriet was surrounded by three other women. Haley’s knees trembled. They were her aunt’s friends, the cream of Sacramento’s society. How could she explain away what was so painfully obvious? Her gaze swept the lobby as she looked for an escape route, a place to hide—anything.

Adam looked at the women, then down to see the terror on Haley’s face. “I take it you know that woman,” he whispered.

She worked her mouth, but no words came out.

The three women spotted her, and recognition bulged their eyes. They bent their heads together, whispering, then craned their necks at Aunt Harriet.

Haley clamped her hand around Adam’s arm. “She’s my aunt. And those old hens are her dearest friends.”

Adam looked at the women, then back at Haley. “She’s your aunt? Harriet Covington is your aunt?”

She bobbed her head quickly and gazed up at him, desperate. “What are we going to tell them?”

Adam couldn’t hold in the grin that pulled at his lips. He slid one arm around her waist and bent until his mouth brushed her ear. “We could always try the truth.”

Haley wanted to slug him. “I told you, I don’t want anyone to know about this—this mess.”

“Would you rather tell them we simply spent the night together?”

Aunt Harriet advanced on them, her wrinkled cheeks pink with anger, her body rigid with well-practiced containment of her emotions. Behind her, the three other ladies stared, wide-eyed.

Her gaze raked them both. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Mrs. Covington, it’s good to see you again. Haley tells me you’re her aunt.” Adam smiled smoothly.

She looked up at him for the first time, and recognition drew her mouth into a tight bow and bobbed her brows to her hairline. “But—I—You—Well, Mr. Harrington?”

“We were just on our way to see you, Mrs. Covington, weren’t we, dear?” Adam gave Haley a squeeze, and a squeak slipped through her lips.

Aunt Harriet glanced back at her three friends who were hovering within earshot. She pulled herself up straighter. “Mr. Harrington, I must ask for an explanation.”

“Believe me, Mrs. Covington, the whole thing came as quite a surprise to us all. Isn’t that right, dear?” Adam looked down at Haley, a gracious smile in place. “Go on, tell your aunt.”

Haley would have collapsed onto the floor long ago, had it not been for Adam’s strong arms around her. She felt the hot glare of her aunt, the nosy exchange of her friends, who must be dying to spread this juicy piece of gossip unfolding before them. But which was the worst scandal? Marrying a stranger in a drunken stupor, or getting caught sleeping with one?

Haley lifted her chin, collecting her pride as best she could. “Aunt Harriet, Mr. Harrington and I got…married last night.”

Aunt Harriet gasped in a most unladylike fashion. Her three friends circled her, whispering and offering congratulations. Several moments passed before Haley realized they were all pleased with the news.

“Well, well.” Aunt Harriet’s cheeks had pinkened. “This is quite exciting, Mr. Harrington. Quite exciting.”

Haley didn’t understand it, but at least no one was mad at her or would spread unsavory gossip. She didn’t want to linger, though, to hear the questions about the wedding details that were sure to follow.

“I’ll see you later, Aunt Harriet, and we’ll talk more then.”

“Certainly, dear, of course.” She gave her a proud smile. “And Mr. Harrington, we’ll want to have you over for supper very soon—your father, as well, of course. We should all get to know one another better, now that we’re related.”

Adam nodded cordially. “Good afternoon, ladies.”

Arm anchored around Haley, he crossed the lobby, leaving the women to stare after them. He looked down at Haley. “See? I told you not everyone considered marriage to me a horrible prospect.”

She would have slapped that smug grin from his face, had she not been certain Aunt Harriet and her friends were still watching. Haley clamped her mouth shut and went out onto the street in front of the hotel, the bright sun stabbing her eyes. Adam hailed a hansom cab. The driver jumped down and opened the door for her.

“Well, Mr. Harrington, it was nice…meeting you.”

He closed his hand around her elbow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I told you already.” She eased her arm from his grasp and sighed heavily. “Surely you’re not thinking we should stay married?”

He shrugged. “Now that your aunt knows the truth, what else can we do? The news will be all over the city by nightfall.”

That much was true. Haley pressed her lips together. “But I don’t know a thing about you.”

Adam stood a little straighter and tugged at his waistcoat. “Adam Oren Harrington. I own a business, which, I’m proud to say, is quite profitable. I’m thirty-four years old, in good health, have few vices, and all my teeth.” He stretched out his lips, displaying two rows of even white teeth. A little grin tugged at his mouth. “Well? Does that meet your expectations for a husband?”

He looked so comical, Haley couldn’t help giggling. “On the surface, yes.”

“And what else would the lady like to know?”

Haley studied him for a moment. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

Adam took her hand in his. Slowly he brushed his thumb over her palm and captured her gaze. “I’ll be at your aunt’s after supper tonight. We’ll discuss everything then.”

Ripples of warmth radiated up her arm. She ignored them and pulled her hand away. “I’ve already told you, Mr. Harrington, I have plans that do not include you. Plans that—” Could cause a worse scandal? Haley held her tongue.

Adam folded his arms across his chest and watched as her bustle disappeared into the cab. He passed money to the driver, and the cab pulled out into the street.

One thing he’d learned long ago was to keep his options open. Snap decisions were often regrettable decisions. Uninformed decisions were disasters. True, he knew nothing about his new wife now. But by the time he arrived at her aunt’s home tonight, he’d know everything he needed to know about Miss Haley Carissa Caufield.

“Oh, thank God it’s you.”

Haley plopped down on her aunt’s mauve settee and touched her hand to her forehead.

Seated across the marble-topped coffee table from her, Jay Caufield settled deeper into the wing-backed chair. “Who were you expecting? Your new husband, maybe?”

Her gaze came up quickly. “How did you find out so soon?” She’d left her aunt at the Madison only hours ago.

“Good news travels fast,” he said, though his tone indicated that he considered it anything but.

“Please, Jay, don’t play games with me.” She’d taken a bath and tried to nap, but she hadn’t been able to sleep, images of her mother, her aunt and her new husband tormenting her.

“It’s all over town. Your aunt was at the Madison for one of those ladies’ club luncheons, spewing the news like a champagne bottle just uncorked.” Jay rose, his slender frame rigid. He threaded his fingers through the pale blond hair at his temple. “How could you have done this? Look, cousin, don’t you realize who Adam Harrington is?”

Haley offered him a weak smile. “Aunt Harriet and her friends were quite pleased by the news.”

He laughed bitterly. “I’m sure they were. But she’s your aunt on your mother’s side. Social position is what they live for. I’m your real relative, Haley. Our fathers were brothers. You should have discussed it with me before you up and married a Harrington.”

“Well, where were you last night, anyway?” Haley sat up straighter. “Maybe none of this would have happened if you’d been with me.”

He shifted and looked contrite. “I had to leave. Elizabeth was getting all goo-goo-eyed, talking about bridesmaids and gowns, jockeying to catch the bouquet. I had to get her out of there.”

“You coward. Elizabeth is a wonderful girl. You should marry her.”

Jay held up his palms. “We’re not discussing me. We’re discussing you and your fiasco.”

“My latest fiasco, don’t you mean?”

Jay just stared at her. Aside from Aunt Harriet, only Jay knew the reasons behind the Farnsworth incident. Though her mother had taken her from Sacramento when she was only thirteen, Haley and Jay had corresponded regularly. He was three years older than she, and they’d been fast friends growing up together. Jay was as close as a brother would have been, had her mother tolerated her father long enough to produce other siblings.

Jay sank into the chair again. “I didn’t think you even knew the Harringtons.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know them. I just…woke up with one.”

Stunned, Jay’s eyes bulged. “You mean, you two got married—” he snapped his fingers “—just like that?”

She nodded. “I don’t even remember the ceremony. Neither does he.”

“But…how?”

She sighed resolutely. “Something to do with the punch, I think.”

He chuckled lightly, then laughed, and laughed harder, until he grabbed his belly and threw back his head. “This is too much, Haley, too much!”

She sat forward on the settee. “What’s so funny?”

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. “When old Martin Harrington finds out what his son has done, he’ll hit the roof. I tell you, it’s almost worth it to have you married to that family.”

Haley flung out her hands. “What’s wrong with the Harringtons, anyway?”

Jay sniffed and got himself under control. “Nothing. Unless you’re trying to compete with their construction company for work in this town.”

She gasped. “The Harringtons own a construction company? But you and I—”

“Exactly. You don’t remember, since you were so young, but our fathers had a devil of a time holding their business together in the face of the Harringtons’ stiff competition—every construction firm in the area had a tough go of it. The Harringtons finally rolled over most everybody. Only a few firms, like ours, remain.”

“So what you’re saying is…” Haley shuddered. She didn’t even want to consider the possibility.

Jay nodded. “In a way, the Harrington Construction Company was responsible for your father’s…demise.”

“His drinking, you mean.”

“Well, yes.”

And that had led to business problems that compounded the marital problems, and eventually landed Haley at her grandparents’ home in San Francisco, with her mother estranged from her father.

Jay shrugged. “Maybe, if things had been different, your parents—”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Haley rose from the chair. “She’d married beneath herself. I heard it a thousand times.”

“He worked like a dog to make himself worthy of her.”

Haley walked to the mantel, sadness sagging her shoulders. Her father had died young, leaving his brother—then Jay—to run the business. “It was never enough, was it?”

“No,” Jay admitted. “He never stood a chance.”

She turned and faced him again, drawing in a fresh breath. “So, you and I are left as the sole owners of the Sacramento Building Company.”

Jay rose slowly from the chair. “We are. For now. I guess you got my letter.”

“I did. And that’s what brought me here to Sacramento in the first place.” Haley shook her head sadly. “Jay, you can’t mean it. You can’t close the Sacramento Building Company.”

“I’ve been beating a dead horse for years now. It’s no use, Haley, I simply can’t go on. Harrington Construction has work locked up in this town. I haven’t sent you any profits from the business for some time now, but I suppose the amount was hardly noticeable, compared to the money your doting grandfather Hasting heaps on you.”

Haley smiled. “You’ve done a wonderful job with the company. Your father would have been proud.”

“I do the best I can. Outbidding Harrington for jobs in this city is tough. We’re small potatoes compared to them. Come down to the office, sometime, I’ll show you around…while there is an office, that is.”

Haley threaded her fingers together. “No, Jay, I’m not going to let this happen. I’m a partner in the business, and I have a say in what happens to it. Closing Sacramento Building is the last thing our fathers would have wanted. We’ll find a way to keep it going.”

“Well, not tonight, I’m afraid. I’ve got to run.” Jay clasped her elbow and kissed her cheek as the mahogany mantel clock chimed the hour. He rolled his eyes. “Dinner at Elizabeth’s parents tonight—this is getting out of hand.”

“But—”

He was gone, and she was left standing alone in Aunt Harriet’s parlor, still contemplating the mission that had brought her to Sacramento.

But before she could do it, she’d have to find a way to get rid of Adam Harrington.

Chapter Three

He’d actually shown up. Haley was surprised, and a little annoyed.

She paused at the bottom of the staircase. From the parlor, she heard his deep voice, then Aunt Harriet’s high-pitched laughter; her aunt, it seemed, was quite taken with her new husband.

She crossed the foyer and entered the parlor. Adam was on the settee, his long legs crossed behind the marble-topped coffee table. Aunt Harriet sat in the damask wing-backed chair across from him, hanging on his every word.

He seemed too big for the room, too strong, too muscular, out of place amid the lace, ruffles and delicate furnishings. Though he wore a dapper navy suit, there was a ruggedness about him. His face and hands were tanned, a stark contrast to the crisp white shirt he wore.

Adam stopped in midsentence and came to his feet when she walked in. His gaze riveted her. “Good evening.”

Clean-shaven now, he looked different from the way she remembered from this morning. His black hair was combed carefully into place, not tousled and unruly. But those deep green eyes hadn’t changed at all. They riveted her now as they had this morning, and made her feel as if she were once again wearing his shirt, instead of a proper gown.

Aunt Harriet smiled up at Haley. “Come in, dear, we were just having a lovely chat.”

Haley stopped beside her aunt’s chair, in no mood for a lovely chat. “If you don’t mind, Aunt Harriet, I’d like to speak with Mr. Harrington alone.”

Aunt Harriet wagged her finger. “No, no, dear, not so fast. I want to hear all the details.”

“Details?” Haley felt Adam’s gaze on her, bringing a flush to her cheeks. “What sort of details?”

“Everyone is asking. What was it that brought you two together so quickly, so unexpectedly?” Aunt Harriet clasped her hands together and gazed up at her.

Haley shifted uncomfortably, her mind working feverishly. She didn’t think her aunt wanted to know the exact flavor of the punch, the thing truly responsible for bringing them together. But for the life of her, Haley couldn’t figure out what Aunt Harriet was asking.

“Now, now, dear. No need to be shy. You either, Mr. Harrington.” Aunt Harriet looked back and forth between them, then smiled sweetly. “It was love at first sight, wasn’t it.”

“Oh, love.” Relieved, Haley touched her hand to her chest.

Aunt Harriet clasped her hands together. “Was that it, Mr. Harrington? Love at first sight?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, of course.”

“Good.” Aunt Harriet settled back in the chair. “Tell me all about it.”

Adam’s eyes widened. “Tell you about it?”

“Yes. I want to hear the whole romantic story.” Aunt Harriet pursed her lips slightly. “I don’t have to remind you that a marriage of this nature, so sudden, is just the sort of thing some people might misinterpret. We must make certain there are no misunderstandings. I want to assure everyone that nothing short of a deep, abiding love sparked between the two of you at the very first moment you laid eyes on each other.”

Haley gazed at Adam. He seemed as startled as she. Then a little grin pulled at her lips. “Go ahead, Mr. Harrington. Tell her.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Well, Mr. Harrington?” Aunt Harriet asked.

Adam straightened and tugged down on his jacket. “It was just as you said, Mrs. Covington. As soon as I saw your niece there was a spark, as you put it. And immediately I felt a—a…”

“A deep and abiding love?” Aunt Harriet prompted.

“Yes. Exactly.” Adam gazed across at Haley. “Without a doubt your niece is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I knew my life would never be complete without her.”

A spasm of warmth waffled through Haley. Adam seemed so sincere that for a moment she’d almost believed him herself.

“And you, Haley?” Aunt Harriet asked. “Were you surprised when you found yourself married to Mr. Harrington?”

The vision of Adam naked, propped up in the bed at the Madison Hotel, looking at her with those deep green eyes of his flashed through her mind.

“Surprised? Yes, Aunt Harriet, I was surprised.”

“And in love?”

Haley pinched the bridge of her nose. She couldn’t stand another word of this conversation.

“If you don’t mind, Aunt Harriet, Mr. Harrington and I have a few things to discuss.”

“Oh, of course. And don’t worry. I’ll be certain everyone knows the true circumstances of your marriage.”

Harriet made a quick exit, closing the double parlor doors behind her.

The room seemed to shrink, the sudden quiet making the walls close around her. Haley finally lifted her gaze to meet Adam’s. She wished she could read his thoughts.

She was beautiful. He’d known this morning that she was pretty, though admittedly his first impressions of his new wife had not been formed by the features he noticed now—the delicate arch of her brows, her red lips, the deep blue of her eyes and the sooty lashes fluttering against her porcelain skin. The creamcolored dress she wore, with its leg-of-mutton sleeves, emphasized her tiny waist, yet was not able to minimize the fullness of the breasts he remembered so well. Recollections flooded his mind, causing the rest of him to react. Slow heat coiled deep inside him. Adam shifted away and stepped behind the wing-backed chair.

“Have you thought of a way for us to get out of this, Mr. Harrington?”

“No. But, truthfully, I didn’t try.”

“Why not?” Anger flushed her skin—or was it his gaze? “Are you suggesting we remain married?”

He shrugged. “Why shouldn’t we?”

She planted her hand on her hip. “Has it occurred to you, Mr. Harrington, that we don’t love each other?”

He uttered a cynical laugh. “Did you think you’d marry for love?”

Obviously, he hadn’t. But she had, despite what everyone had told her; she’d proved it, too.

“Who’s to say we won’t grow fond of each other?”

“Grow fond of each other? Frankly, Mr. Harrington, I had something more in mind.”

His innards flamed. He dug his fingers into the back of the chair. God, he wanted this woman. “We are already married. We can’t just ignore it.”

He sounded so reasonable, Haley wanted to hit him.

He shrugged. “There’s no reason why marriage should interfere with anything we’re already doing.”

Her back stiffened. “Interfere?”

“Yes. I’ll continue on with my business, and you’ll continue on with whatever it is women do all day. Only you’ll do it from my home instead of your aunt’s. What’s so wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with it, Mr. Harrington, is that it sounds like a business arrangement, instead of a marriage. I won’t be a party to this sham.”

“We took vows, legally and morally.” Surely they had; he’d have felt better if he could remember some of it.

“Legal, moral…Words, Mr. Harrington, nothing more. I want a divorce, and that’s final.”

Haley whipped around and headed for the door.

“Miss Caufield.”

The stern tone of his voice stopped her. She turned on him. His face was set in firm lines, tight with controlled anger. But he didn’t frighten her. He only caused her own anger to grow.

He stepped from behind the chair. “I won’t put my family through the shame of divorce. And you, I’d think, would not want a scandal.” His eyes narrowed. “Again.”

She felt as if he’d slapped her face. He knew. Somehow he’d learned of her debacle in San Francisco. Damn him…

Whatever had happened to her in San Francisco must have been the scandal of scandals, Adam realized as he watched the color drain from her cheeks. He wished he’d had more time to find out exactly what it was. He’d taken the private detective’s word that it wasn’t serious. Maybe he’d have Oscar check into it further, just for the hell of it. Regardless, the Harrington name would shield her from whatever infraction of the rules of etiquette she’d committed in the past.

Haley drew in a deep breath. The look of smug superiority on his face rankled her. He was getting his way, and he knew it. But the part she hated most was that he was right, and there was nothing she could do about it.

“I don’t seem to have a choice, do I?” Haley’s chin went up a notch as she clung to her pride.

Adam pulled his watch from the pocket of his waistcoat and flipped it open. “I have to be home in one hour. I’ll send for your things in the morning. Pack what you’ll need for tonight.”

“Tonight?”

He tucked his watch away and looked across the room at her. “I want my wife in my home tonight.”

“You sound as if you intend to install me there, like a piece of furniture. Should I plan to stand stationary, so that you can hang a picture over my head?”

What a spitfire. Adam’s belly warmed again, just when he’d gotten himself under control. He couldn’t wait to get her home.

A slow smile spread across his face. “I assure you, having you stand stationary is the furthest thing from my mind. I have other plans.”

She took a step closer. “I have plans of my own, Mr. Harrington.”

“As I said, I don’t feel this marriage should unduly interfere with our lives.”

“You can count on it.” Haley flung the words at him and marched from the room.

Despite her best efforts to exceed her husband’s deadline, Haley was packed and ready to leave within the hour. She looked around the bedchamber that had been her home for only a few days and felt a pang of sorrow at leaving. Or was it remorse? Haley pushed the thought away and slumped down on the pale green coverlet.

“I reckon that’s about it, Miss Haley.”

“Thank you, Chrissy.” She watched the maid close the latches on the trunk. Petite, with a head full of auburn curls always escaping her white cap, the young maid had attended her since her arrival at Aunt Harriet’s. Haley would miss her bubbly personality, marked so strongly by her Georgia accent.

“Lordy-day, Miss Haley, I hope you don’t mind, but I caught me a look at that new husband of yours.” Chrissy shook her head appreciatively. “He’s as handsome as Texas and as big as a bull on an auction block. Marriage to him is gonna be more fun than Christmas morning.”

Haley sprang off the bed. “Thank you, Chrissy. That will be all.”

“Oh, sure.” She turned, but paused with her hand on the doorknob. “I just want to say, Miss Haley, I’m privileged to have looked after you here. I kinda wish you weren’t going. But I hope good things come your way.”

Suddenly Chrissy seemed very dear to her. The thought of going to a strange home, knowing no one, loomed, daunting, in her mind.

A soft knock sounded on the door. Chrissy opened it, and Aunt Harriet stepped inside. She gazed at the trunks, then at Haley. “Mr. Harrington is waiting.”

“I’m ready. No, wait, Chrissy, don’t go yet.” The young maid stopped in the doorway, and Haley turned to her aunt. “I’d like to take Chrissy with me, if you don’t mind. Just until I get settled.”

Aunt Harriet considered the matter for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, that will be fine. Run along, Chrissy, and pack a bag. Mr. Harrington is growing impatient.”

Chrissy squeezed her arms together, holding in a squeal of delight, and hurried away.

Slowly, Aunt Harriet closed the door and turned to Haley. She drew in a deep breath and folded her hands together primly. “Haley, there is something we must discuss. Sit down.”

“What’s wrong?” Haley perched on the edge of the bed.

“Your mother should be speaking with you on the subject, but since she’s not here, I feel I must take matters into my own hands.” She nodded slowly. “I think that’s what she would want me to do.”

Haley had no idea what her aunt was going on about, but if it delayed her departure, it was fine with her. “Yes, I’m sure Mother would agree.”

“It’s about relations.” She pursed her lips meaningfully. Color rose in her cheeks. “Marital relations.”

“Oh. That.” Haley didn’t know how to tell her aunt that she was about twenty-four hours late with this little talk.

She drew herself up, forcing herself to go on. “You are a well-bred lady. Your mother has seen to that. You’re expected to act a certain way, conduct yourself with proper decorum, regardless of the circumstances.”

She’d spent hours in etiquette classes, and many more reading from the volumes of books available on the subject. None of them, however, had mentioned the subject that was causing Aunt Harriet so much distress.

“Husbands, well-bred gentlemen like Mr. Harrington, expect their wives to behave as ladies.” Aunt Harriet’s brows pulled together. “At all times.”

Haley sat up straighter, and her gaze wandered across the bed. “They do?”

She nodded wisely. “They do.”

“But—” Now she was confused. What she could remember of last night, and what she knew of the condition she’d found herself in this morning and Adam’s response to it, she couldn’t have behaved in anything near a ladylike manner. But he’d seemed pleased by it. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. You mustn’t abase yourself in such a manner. Mr. Harrington is expecting to marry a dignified, properly groomed lady, and that is what you must be.”

Certainly, Aunt Harriet would know. Haley’s mother wouldn’t have entrusted her to her aunt’s care had she not been the epitome of gentlewomanhood. After all, it was Aunt Harriet whom her mother had relied on to take Haley out of San Francisco until the Farnsworth scandal died down.

Haley rose from the bed. “All right, Aunt Harriet, if you say so.”

“A lady at all times. Remember that.” She pointed a stern finger at her. “We mustn’t risk falling into disfavor with the Harringtons.”

That was hardly Haley’s highest priority, but she kept the thought to herself as she followed her aunt out the door.

Adam waited in the foyer, consulting his pocket watch as Haley descended the stairs. He looked mildly annoyed as he tucked it in his waistcoat, and that pleased her.

The servants took her trunks to Adam’s carriage, and her aunt made a show of kissing her cheek and wishing her well as Adam assisted her with her cape and ushered her out the door. Chrissy went ahead and climbed up top with the driver.

The spring evening was cool, and the interior of the carriage was dark as they settled into seats facing each other. Light from the street lamps cast dim shadows across the carriage as they made their way through the city. Haley felt Adam’s steady, unnerving gaze upon her as she stared at the passing scenery, pretending not to notice him.

At length he drew a silver case from his inside jacket pocket and took out a cigarette. Sulfur filled the carriage as the match sprang to life, illuminating his features before he tossed it out the window. Smoke coiled around his head.

“Isn’t there anything you want to ask me?”

She jumped at the sound of his deep voice coming out of the darkness. “Such as?”

He shrugged. “Such as…my family, my home.”

“I assume you have both.”

He chuckled. “A new house, actually. I designed it myself. Just moved in a few months ago.” He took a long drag on the cigarette and blew the smoke over his head. “You’ll run the house now, of course…thank goodness.”

And didn’t it occur to him that might interfere with her life?

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to simply hire a competent housekeeper?” She waved away the smoke coiling toward her.

“I have a staff, all quite capable. But you’ll have a vested interest in the place. That’s what I want. Do with it whatever you like. I’m told it needs a woman’s touch.”

So, there it was. Her first assignment in her new life. It didn’t sit well with her, but it was a role she had trained for most of her life.

He stretched out his legs, long, muscular legs that took up most of the space between the seats. Haley scooted sideways to avoid him. Again, she waved away the white, hazy cigarette smoke. “Must you smoke in here? It’s a nasty habit, you know.”

Adam studied the glowing tip of his cigarette, then tossed it out the window. “Don’t you want to know about my family?”

No, she wanted to get out of this carriage and get back to her own family. “Certainly.”

“One brother, one sister. Both younger. They live with my father.” Adam shifted uncomfortably on the leather seat and gazed out the window for the first time. “You’ll meet them…later.”

“You didn’t ask, so I assume you discovered all you care to know about me.”

Adam grinned and gazed at her once more. Oscar routinely worked for Harrington Construction, handling sensitive matters. He was well compensated for his efforts, and so hadn’t minded a rush assignment on a Sunday afternoon.

“Only the basics,” Adam admitted. Enough to know she made the perfect wife.

“But not everything.”

His brows drew together. “No, not everything.”

She shot him a scathing look. “Rethinking the marriage, Mr. Harrington?”

“No.” He leveled his gaze at her across the dim carriage. “But don’t get any ideas. If you’re thinking it’s a way to get out of this marriage, you’re wrong. I won’t tolerate a scandal.”

Her chin crept higher. “And neither will I, Mr. Harrington.”

“Don’t you think it would be all right if we were on a first-name basis now, Haley?”

Hearing him say her name sent a chill up her spine. Recollections of him breathing the word against her ear last night floated up in her mind, along with all sorts of feelings she couldn’t capture and certainly couldn’t name. She looked away. “I suppose… Adam.”

He grinned. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

It wasn’t bad at all, but she didn’t say so.

Haley looked out the window. The streetlights had disappeared, and by the sway of the carriage she could tell they had left the city. Presently, Adam sat forward.

“We’re home.”

Haley’s stomach tingled. Home? Her home was in San Francisco, with her mother and grandparents.

The carriage stopped, and Adam helped her to the ground while the driver and Chrissy handled her trunks.

Haley clutched her handbag as she gazed at the house. Every etched and stained-glass pane was lit in the three-story structure, setting it ablaze against the night sky. A large porch wrapped the entire first floor, and an onion dome and a witch’s hat punctuated the roof. Fashionable gingerbread and scrollwork decorated the house, which was blue with white trim, she guessed—it was hard to tell in the dark. Mature trees in the yard and flowers and shrubbery against the house scented the air pleasantly.

The front door opened, and a small, neat man with a carefully trimmed gray mustache stepped outside.

“Good evening, sir,” he droned.

Adam ushered her into the foyer. “Bernard, this is my wife.”

The butler gave her a stiff bow and a cursory glance. “Good evening, Mrs. Harrington.”

“See to her things.” Adam pulled his watch from his pocket and consulted it. He turned to Haley. “If you need anything, ask Bernard.”

And with that, he disappeared down the hall.

“Mr. Harrington is particular about his schedule,” Bernard offered in a monotone.

“Certainly,” she responded, as if that explained being dismissed like yesterday’s news.

“Follow me, please.”

She climbed the sweeping staircase behind the butler. Chrissy stepped alongside her, her eyes wide. “Well, somebody slap me—will you just look at this place? You’ve just got to keep me here, Miss Haley. No offense, but your aunt’s house smells like camphor all the time.”

Haley didn’t answer. She wasn’t certain she’d stay herself.

Chimes from the parlor’s mantel clock echoed up the stairway, causing Adam to stop and pull out his pocket watch. Fast. Two minutes fast. He couldn’t abide an inaccurate timepiece. Bernard would have to be told to see to the clock’s repair.

Adam started up the stairs again, then froze. No, Bernard would not have to handle it. He had a wife now to see to those things. A little smile pulled at his lips, and he climbed the stairs.

In his room, he poured himself a glass of bourbon from the decanter on his bureau and sipped it, his gaze riveted to the connecting door to his new wife’s suite. He’d sat at his desk downstairs for hours, trying to concentrate on the McKettrick plans. He’d set aside that time specifically to work on them, but he hadn’t gotten much accomplished; they hadn’t interested him to. begin with.

Adam crossed the room and passed through the sitting area to stare at Haley’s closed bedroom door. No light shone beneath it. No sound emanated from within. Surely she was sleeping by now; she’d looked exhausted when he picked her up—beautiful, but exhausted.

Quietly he opened the door and light from behind him beamed into the room. She was a bulge under the coverlet, curled on her side facing him. He heard the light, even breathing of her slumbers and wished to hell he’d tossed the McKettrick plans aside and come upstairs as he wanted to. But Haley represented an important element of a long-range plan. No need to rush with her; she’d be here forever.

Adam leaned his shoulder against the door casing and took another sip of the bourbon. He wished he could remember actually marrying her, or at least what had led up to his doing such a rash thing. He remembered being quite captivated by the sight of her, and asking friends if anyone knew her. The Olivers’ wedding ceremony had been stoic, as expected, and the reception predictable until the old guard left. Things had gotten completely out of hand after that. Vaguely he recalled reciting vows, images of Harry Oliver and Judge Williams fading in and out.

Adam looked down at the bourbon and swirled it in the glass. He must have had more than his usual too much last night.

He might have kept her regardless of her background, after spending last night rolling around in bed with her. That much of the evening he remembered with great clarity. But after Oscar informed him of her social standing, he could hardly believe his luck. No more women throwing their eligible daughters and nieces at him. No more teas, receptions or piano recitals to sit through in his search for an acceptable wife. Now he had her. And without the bother of the endless engagement parties, the wedding preparations, the ceremony and all the silly hoopla that went with it.

And no chance that the bride would change her mind.

Adam tossed back the last of the bourbon and drew in a deep, satisfying breath. He had it all. His new home and his wife. He was on his way. What could possibly go wrong now?

Chapter Four

Haley pushed her hair off her shoulder and peered over the thick coverlet. Morning sunlight sifted through the white gossamer drapes across the room. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Another strange room.

She fell back on the pillow and lifted her arm. At least this morning she had on her own nightgown.

“Morning, Miss Haley.”

She pushed herself up higher on the pillows and saw Chrissy sorting through her clothing at the bureau. “Is it?”

She smiled brightly. “I know you slept like a hound in the shade. Would you just look at this place? I talked to the other servants this morning and learned that Mr. Harrington designed this whole place himself and had it built just like he wanted it. Marble all the way from Italy, paintings from France. Why, those stained-glass windows downstairs came all the way from England. The whole other end of this floor is the nursery. And there’s four bathrooms—four! Can you believe it?”

Haley gazed at the lace canopy over her head and the pristine white eyelet quilt covering her. A delicate blue-and-white print paper covered the walls, and a deep blue carpet stretched the length of the large room. The furniture was cherry. A new scent clung to everything, as if the room had been waiting for her.

“You’d better get up, if you’re wanting to have breakfast with your new mister.” Chrissy approached the bed. “Everybody says he’s as fussy as a hen with one chick when it comes to his schedule. That Bernard fella? He’s got the mister’s whole day written down on paper—carries it around with him all the time.”

“Lovely…” Haley got out of bed and stretched.

“Over there, that’s a bathroom.” Chrissy pointed across the room. “And the other door is a sitting room. It’s got a big ol’ desk in it, and chairs softer than goose down. Your mister’s bedroom is on the other side.” She giggled. “But you probably know that already, huh.”

Haley headed toward the bathroom door, ignoring the maid’s insinuation. She knew nothing more of her husband than she had when he abandoned her in the foyer with Bernard. If he’d come to her room with romantic notions during the night, she’d slept through them.

Her feet slowed on the thick carpet. What if he had come? She remembered little of the night before, at the Madison. Had he been here last night and she’d forgotten that too? Haley shook her head. Surely, one of these nights she would remain alert and aware of his overtures.

She stepped onto the cold tile of the bathroom floor grinding her fists in her eyes. She yawned loudly and stretched, rising on her toes, reaching toward the ceiling.

“Good morning.”

She squealed and spun around. Adam. He stood before the mirror at the sink, his shoulders twisted so that he could look at her. A white towel wrapped his hips; long, muscular legs showed below it, bulging arms above it. Foamy shaving soap covered half his face.

The breath went out of her. “I—I didn’t know…”

A shudder passed through Adam, reverberating until it slammed low in his belly. Oh, God, she was beautiful, all tousled and rumpled and disheveled. Just the sight of her made him want to—

He grabbed another towel from the rack by the sink and held it in front of him, trying to look casual. He gestured with the razor in his hand. “The bath joins our rooms.”

She glanced through the open door and saw the same rich blue carpet as in her own room, and a heavy cherry four-poster bed made neatly with a blue quilt. Adam’s bedroom. She felt her knees weaken.

“I designed it that way. I designed this whole end of the house as a suite for my wife.”

He gestured with the razor again, and she saw the dark hair beneath his arm, the curls across his chest, the line that arrowed into the towel below his navel.

“It’s…magnificent,” she breathed.

“That tub?” He pointed to the claw-footed white porcelain bathtub. “I had it specially made in Philadelphia. It’s seven feet long—the only one like it in the country. The whole house is wired for electricity. As soon as Sacramento Electric Power and Light figures how to generate current more than five miles at a stretch, we’ll have it.”

“Sir, it is now 6:42.” Bernard appeared in the doorway to Adam’s bedroom. “Oh, begging your pardon, sir.”

“I’m going to work,” he explained to Haley.

“I see.” She thought she might actually explode at any second from the extreme heat boiling inside her.

“I’ll be finished here in—”

“Seven minutes, sir,” Bernard intoned.

“Seven minutes.” Adam gestured toward the tub. “Unless you’d like to go ahead and…”

Her skin tingled, and parts of her felt suddenly heavy. “No, no, I’ll wait.” She backed toward the door.

He took a step forward, clutching the towel. “I’ll have Bernard work out a morning schedule for us.”

“Fine.” Haley escaped into her own room. As she closed the door, she caught sight of Chrissy craning her neck.

“He’s quite the looker, if I can say so, ma’am.”

Haley frantically fanned herself with her palms. Why was it so hot in here? “Open a window, Chrissy.”

“I’m going over to your aunt’s house this afternoon to get the rest of your things.” Chrissy hoisted the window and gave Haley a look over her shoulder. “Edward is taking me.”

“Edward?”

“Mr. Harrington’s driver, the one who brought us over here last night.” She smiled. “We got to talking and all. He lives right here, got a place all to himself over the carriage house. Well, now, let’s get you ready. I know you don’t want to keep your new mister waiting.”

But he didn’t wait. Haley found Adam in the foyer, talking with Bernard, readying to leave.

“Have the gardener continue on the rose beds.”

Bernard nodded sedately as he assisted Adam into his jacket. “Yes, sir.”

“And notify the staff that all decisions concerning the house should be directed to Mrs. Harrington.” He nodded toward Haley as she joined them.

“Of course, sir.” Bernard cleared his throat quietly. “Today is the twelfth, sir.”

Adam tugged down on his starched cuffs. “Yes.”

“Tomorrow, sir? Master Kip?”

He nodded. “Of course. Take funds from the household account, Bernard, and get him something. Have it sent over.”

“Suggestions, sir?” He passed him his leather valise.

“Whatever you think is appropriate. How old is he now?”

“Thirteen, sir.”

Haley felt like an intruder eavesdropping on an old ritual. “Somebody’s birthday?” she ventured.

Adam and Bernard both looked at her, unaccustomed to the interruption in their routine.

“My brother, Kip. His birthday is tomorrow.”

Haley brightened. “Really? Is your family having a party for him?”

Adam paled slightly. “No.”

“Well then, let’s have a party for him here.” Haley warmed to the idea. “We’ll have your family—isn’t that what you want, Adam?—and…some friends. I’ll have the cook bake a large…”

Her words died when Bernard turned away, as if embarrassed for her, and Adam drew in a deep, steadying breath.

“We don’t celebrate Kip’s birthday,” he said quietly.

Haley clasped her hands together. “Why not?”

He eyed her sharply. “Because our mother died when he was born.” Adam pulled the pocket watch from his waistcoat. “Two minutes behind schedule,” he mumbled, and looked at Haley. “See that the parlor clock is repaired today. If you need anything, consult with Bernard. He is always apprised of my schedule.”

And with that, Adam left her standing in the foyer.

“Would madam care for breakfast?”

Bernard had a way of looking at her without seeming to actually see her. “Whatever Mr. Harrington had.”

“Including the spirits, madam? Mr. Harrington has a Bloody Mary with his breakfast.”

She frowned. “No.”

Bernard bowed slightly and silently left the foyer.

Haley exhaled heavily in the still, silent house. Sitting in Adam’s monstrous bathtub this morning, she’d mulled her situation over and, try as she might, Haley could think of no good reason to leave, and several good reasons to stay. For one, it would put the Farnsworth incident behind her, and for another, this marriage would appease her mother, and might even bring her back into favor.

Haley walked into the dining room. But, more than anything, marriage to Adam was just the excuse she needed to stay in Sacramento, which was what she’d wanted all along.

Seated alone at the dining room table, listening to the ticking of a clock somewhere in the house, Haley thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, Adam had kept his word.

She certainly hadn’t interfered a bit in his life, just as he’d promised.

Leather creaked beneath him as he eased into the chair across from his father’s massive desk, and smoke from his cigar coiled in front of him. Adam blew out a gray, hazy cloud. “Trouble this weekend?”

Martin Harrington reared back, puffing. “Damn vandals. I’d like to get my hands around their necks.”

“What happened?”

Martin sat forward and dragged his hands through his silvery hair. “Spilled paint, nail kegs overturned. Nuisance stuff again.”

Adam shrugged. “Probably just kids.”

“It better not be the trade unions. If I find out it is, they’ll sure as hell be sorry.” Martin clamped the cigar between his teeth. “How are the McKettrick plans coming?”

Adam blew out a heavy breath. “Fine.”

“I want to get there first. I don’t want McKettrick looking at anybody else’s ideas. I want this bid to—”

“I know. I know.” Adam sat straighter in the chair. “You know I don’t want to do this project.”

“It’s money in the bank. Big money. I want it.”

They’d discussed it a half-dozen times already; it wasn’t the first time Adam and his father had disagreed. “We’ll get it, Martin.”

He hadn’t called his father by anything but his first name for years, since he came to work at the firm. It suited them both.

“We’d better.” Martin rose and walked to the window, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. Folding his hands at his back, he stared down at the street below; the view from his private office on the second floor of the Harrington Building allowed him to look down at much of the city, the docks and the Sacramento River. A long moment dragged by. Finally he said, “Well, who is she?”

Adam tapped his cigar in the ashtray on his father’s desk, surprised he’d waited this long to bring up the subject. “Don’t you mean, what is she?”

He threw a look over his shoulder that offered no apology, and turned to stare out the window again.

“Her grandfather is Cyrus Hasting of San Francisco. I think you’re familiar with the family. Banking, real estate, shipping, railroads.”

He grunted—a sound Adam interrupted as favorable.

“Her mother’s a widow, prominent in social circles.”

Martin snorted distastefully.

“She’s here visiting her aunt on her mother’s side, Harriet Covington.”

“Damn. Too bad old Ben Covington died already. We could use another supporter in the legislature.”

Adam puffed on his cigar again. “All in all, an acceptable pedigree.”

“Oscar check her out?”

“He did.”

“No skeletons in her closet?”

Adam shifted in the chair. “None I’m concerned about.”

A long moment dragged by. “Well, it’s about damn time you got yourself a wife. I don’t know what the hell you were waiting for. Bring her to dinner tonight.”

Dinner at his father’s house was definitely not the evening he had planned.

Martin looked over his shoulder. “I want to meet her.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Gwen—”

“I’ll handle Gwen.” Martin turned. “Bring her over. I want to meet the woman who’ll give me my grandchildren.”

“Good evening, sir.”

Adam passed his valise to Bernard. Maybe it was his imagination, but the house seemed to smell sweeter tonight. He’d certainly been more anxious than usual to get home.

“Where is Haley?”

Bernard inclined his head toward the back of the house. “In the solarium, I believe, sir.”

“Is she ready to go?”

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know.”

He frowned. “You told her, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Adam passed through the arched doorway and headed down the hall toward the solarium, but caught sight of Haley in his study. “What are you doing in here?”

She looked up from her seat behind his desk. “Good evening to you, too.”

Light from the gas jets bathed her in hues of pink. Adam rubbed his forehead and stopped in front of the desk. “What are you looking at?”

“Don’t you know?” She glanced down at the blueprints laid out before her. “You’re designing them, aren’t you?”

“I just didn’t expect to find you in here.”

She sat back. “Is this room off-limits?”

“No,” he said quickly. “This is your home now. As I said, you can do with it what you choose.”

“Good, because I’d like to—”

“Don’t tell me.” Adam held up his hand. He’d had his fill of settling servant squabbles, looking at household budgets and worrying over windowsills being dusted in the past few months. He hadn’t thought having a large house would be such a burden. “Just do whatever you want.”

Haley shrugged. “Well, if you’re certain.”

“I’m certain.”

“What are these things, anyway?”

Surprised at her interest, Adam stepped behind the desk. “Plans for some new houses.”

She tilted her head one way, then the other. “They are?”

Adam leaned forward and ran his finger down the lines on the paper. “See? These are walls. These represent windows and doors, bedrooms, parlors.”

“Oh.” She looked up at him. “Aren’t they rather small?”

Her breasts swelled the bodice of her gown, noticeable now because he was looking down on her. Adam’s breath caught. “No, they’re not small at all. They’re full and soft and—”

“The houses are full and sort?” Haley stared down at the blueprints again.

“The houses—oh yes, the houses.” God, what had he just said? “Actually, they are small, but that’s what McKettrick wants. He’s expanding, building a new factory and he wants to provide housing for his workers.”

“And they want to live in these tiny little houses?”

She looked up at him again, and Adam felt his knees weaken. He turned away quickly and grabbed a decanter from the table beneath the window. “It’s a lot of houses, all generally small. That’s what McKettrick wants.”

“Well…I suppose.” Haley folded her hands in her lap.

Adam poured himself a bourbon, and a little smile tugged at his lips. “Did you have a visitor today?”

“Yes, I did. Mr. Havermeyer stopped by this afternoon.”

Thoroughly pleased with himself, Adam sipped his drink and turned to her. “Well? What did you pick out?”

The neat little bearded man had shown up in her parlor with a case full of jewelry. Pick whatever she wanted, he’d said. All her husband had insisted upon was that she have a gold wedding band.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Adam frowned. “You need a wedding band, Haley. It’s hardly proper for you to be seen in public without one. And I told Havermeyer to let you have whatever else you wanted. I expected you to be pleased.”

Haley sat back in the deep leather chair. “Had I been married to Mr. Havermeyer, I would have been very pleased to pick out a wedding band with him.”

What was wrong with this woman? He’d sent a jeweler displaying exquisite gems and she’d not wanted anything? What kind of nonsense was she talking, anyway?

Adam tossed down his bourbon. “Are you ready to go?”

“Go where?”

His jaw tightened as he gazed down at her. “To my father’s for dinner. I sent word to Bernard for you to be ready when I got home.”

“I don’t take instructions from servants.”

She said it so sweetly that a moment passed before the meaning sunk in. Anger coiled in his chest. “This is how I have my household set up. Bernard handles my schedule.”

“Then perhaps Bernard will go to dinner with you tonight.” She rose sedately and crossed the room. At the door, she stopped and looked back at him. “I am prepared to go…this time.”

Stunned, Adam stared as she sashayed from the room.

They didn’t speak as they rode to his father’s house in town. Adam smoked four cigarettes, one after another, tossing the butts out the window, stealing glances at his new wife across the darkened carriage.

He had a way with women, or so he’d always thought. He could be generous, thoughtful, kind— even charming, when necessary. Women fawned over him. Mothers, aunts and grandmothers pushed their daughters, nieces and granddaughters at him. Certainly they all thought him a handsome catch. The Lord knew, enough eligible young women had been paraded in front of him.

Adam’s shoulders squared as he gazed at Haley in the shadows. So what was wrong with this woman? Nothing he did made any difference. The house he’d given her, the jewelry he’d offered hadn’t affected her in the least. Haley seemed totally immune.

Adam grunted and turned away. Not only had he been unable to charm her, he couldn’t even get her to like him. And if he couldn’t get her to like him, how was he ever going to get her into bed with him?

Adam slouched on the leather seat and lit another cigarette.

Darkness had descended over the city when the carriage stopped outside the Harrington’s large home. Adam escorted her up the walk and spoke to the butler who greeted them.

There was a settled look about the house, as if it had been there for years, just as it sat tonight. It was immaculate, almost as though no one lived there. It gave Haley an eerie feeling.

Adam introduced her to his family, and they spoke politely before settling around the dining room table. Almost immediately, Adam and his father began discussing business.

At the head of the table, Martin Harrington was a commanding sight, tall and straight despite his silver hair. Beside Adam sat his sister, Gwen, dark-haired and green-eyed, like Adam. With her mother gone, Haley wondered why Gwen wasn’t seated at the foot of the table, as the mistress of the house should be. Nearing thirty, there was a hardness about her. Probably a pretty girl once, lines and creases showed in her face. Or was it something else that had aged her? Haley pretended not to notice that Gwen was on her fourth glass of wine.

At Haley’s right sat Kip, tomorrow’s birthday boy. Small and thin, he pushed his food around his plate. Though with his light brown hair and blue eyes he hardly resembled his older brother and sister physically, Haley found a connection; he looked as bored as the rest of them.

Finally something in the conversation caught her ear. Haley perked up. “The McKettrick plans? Adam and I were discussing them this evening.”

Everything in the room stopped. All eyes riveted her. Adam blanched. Kip and Gwen looked at her as if she’d just suggested they all disrobe and wallow in the rice pudding. Martin looked as though he’d been violated.

Haley’s stomach hardened into a knot. She smiled. “The plans looked very interesting. Have you seen them, Mr. Harrington?”

“No, I haven’t.” He shoved a spoonful of pudding into his mouth and looked away.

“You’ve seen the plans? The treasured, gold-plated McKettrick plans?” Gwen rolled her eyes with mock envy and lifted her glass. “A reason to celebrate! More wine!”

Martin glared at her.

“Can I be excused?” Kip dropped his napkin beside his plate, as if he’d been waiting for an opportunity to escape.

“Eat.” Martin barked.

“I don’t like it.” Kip slapped his fork down.

Martin pointed at him. “I don’t care what you like—”

“It tastes like garbage! I want to be excused!”

“Not until you finish your meal.”

Gwen looked across the table at Kip. “Oh, go ahead. You can leave.”

Martin’s jaw tightened. “The boy needs to eat. He’s skinny as a rail.”

“Well, you certainly know what’s best, don’t you, Father?” Sarcasm dripped from each taunting word. Gwen banged her spoon against her glass. “I said, more wine!”

A doorbell chimed through the house. Martin slammed his spoon on the table. “Who the devil is that, coming to call at the dinner hour?”

“I’ll see!” Kip ran from the room.

“Come back here!” Martin yelled.

Gwen glared at him defiantly, then laughed.

“Damn it,” Martin mumbled. He tossed his napkin on the table and stalked from the room.

Gwen waved her glass. “I guess I’ll have to get my own wine.” She wobbled away.

Adam stared at his plate. Haley couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or simply accustomed to their behavior.

She pressed her fingers to her lips, as if trying to recall something. “So, what did you tell me was the reason you moved into your own home?”

He looked up at her, and she gave him a smile. Adam relaxed marginally. “It was a tough decision.” He tossed his napkin on the table. “Let’s get out of here.”

He clasped her elbow and they headed for the foyer, but commotion in the front of the house stopped them. The front door stood open, and two men were piling trunks in the foyer.

“Well, I’ll be. It’s Isabelle.” A genuine smile parted Adam’s lips, and he went into the parlor.

Haley followed and saw a tall, statuesque woman in traveling clothes standing in the middle of the room. Gray streaked her black hair. Kip was at her elbow, looking mystified, while Gwen sipped another glass of wine. Shoulders hunched, Martin stood in the corner.

“Where have you been, Aunt Izzy?” Kip asked anxiously. “Lots of great places?”

“You dear, dear boy. The world—I’ve been around the world, I tell you. Wait until you see what I’ve brought for you.” Isabelle gestured grandly with her hands.

Gwen raised her glass in a toast. “Here’s hoping it’s liquid.”

“Adam!” Isabelle’s gaze fell on him, and she threw out her arms. “Come here, you handsome thing.”

“I missed you, Aunt Izzy.” He crossed the room and reached for her hands.

“Wait!” Isabelle’s eyes bulged, and she threw out her palm, stopping him. She pressed her thumb and forefinger to her temple. “Don’t move.”

Kip’s eyes widened. “Are you getting a reading, Aunt Izzy?”

“Oh, for God’s sake…” Martin groaned.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m getting something.” Isabelle rotated her outstretched palm in a circular motion. “Yes, yes, I’m picking up another aura.”

“I know who it is,” Kip exclaimed. “Adam got married.”

Her eyes popped open. “Married!”

Adam smiled and gave her a hug.

“Martin finally goaded you into it, huh? What did he do, get you drunk and have the ceremony performed while you were unconscious?”

Adam caught Haley’s gaze and saw the sharp intake of her breath. His chest tightened.

“Well, where is she? I’ve got to see this new blood. It’s about time you and Amelia tied the knot.”

Haley left her station in the doorway, then stopped dead in her tracks. An embarrassed silence fell over the room, and Adam shifted uncomfortably.

He took her arm. “Aunt Izzy, my wife, Haley. Haley, this is my aunt, Isabelle Gladmore.”

Isabelle looked confused. “But what happened to—? Never mind, she had a strange aura, anyway.” She gave Haley a solid hug. “Welcome to the family, my dear.”

Despite her own heart’s pounding, Haley liked Isabelle immediately.

“I got the letters you sent, Aunt Izzy.” Kip’s eyes were bright. “Did you get to go to England?”

She dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “England—boring, boring people there. No, dear, I sailed to Hawaii. Beautiful, pristine beaches and simple grass huts. I fell into a deep friendship with Queen Liliuokalani. She gave me my own island.”

“Gosh.”

“Can’t you just go places like other people?” Martin complained. “Proper places?”

Isabelle pinched her lips distastefully. “Winter in New York, spring in Europe, summer in Newport. No, thank you.”

“Where else did you go?” Kip asked anxiously.

“To the Far East, where I had an acquaintance with a Japanese baron. I visited Burma, and lived in the harem of an Indian maharaja—as an observer, of course.”

“What’s a harem?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Isabelle,” Martin barked. “Not in front of the boy.”

She turned to him. “And I didn’t forget my only brother. Wait until you see what I brought you from China.”

“Whatever it is, I don’t want it.”

“I’ve collected the most fabulous Oriental art.” She whirled to face Haley again. “You’ve got to see them.”

“I’ve got to,” she agreed. “You must come over soon.”

“You have your own home?” Isabelle eyed Adam. “So, one of you finally escaped this mausoleum. Good for you!”

“All right, all right, go get settled upstairs.” Martin waded into the cluster of people in the center of the room, dispersing them. “I guess you’re staying here.”

“How long will you be with us, Aunt Izzy?” Kip asked.

She patted his slim shoulders. “Until the wind whips in from the east and whispers that it’s time to go.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Christ…”

“I’m glad you’re here, Aunt Izzy, because—”

“Wait!” She threw out her palm again and touched her temple. “I’m getting something.”

Kip’s eyes widened. “Another reading, Aunt Izzy?”

The room fell silent while Izzy closed her eyes, communing with some unknown force. After a moment, she shook it off. “Never mind. It was nothing. Stand aside, everyone. I have gifts to unpack.”

As they all headed out the door, Isabelle caught Adam’s arm. “I must speak with you,” she whispered.

Adam bent down. “What is it, Aunt Izzy?”

“It’s your wife. I’m picking up a strange reading from her.”

“From Haley?” Adam managed not to laugh at the concern that marked his aunt’s brow. She was a dear, and he loved her, mostly because of her eccentric behavior. She’d claimed to get strange readings from Kip and Gwen for years, but it meant nothing.

“Watch over her, Adam.”

“I will, Aunt Izzy.”

She laid her hand on his arm and looked up solemnly at him. “Something is amiss with that young woman, I just can’t pinpoint it. Watch over her closely. A life hangs in the balance.”

Chapter Five

It was only a door.

Adam rolled the glass of bourbon between his palms and contemplated the carved wood and the brass knob before him. Not only was it merely a door, it was his door. He’d designed it, he’d selected the wood and hardware, he’d overseen its installation— he’d even paid for the damn thing. He could open it if he wanted to. Right?

Wrong.

He sagged against the door frame of his own bedchamber, staring across the sitting room at Haley’s door. She was in there. A crack of light shone on the carpet. It had been silent in there for a few minutes now. Chrissy had gone, surely. Haley was ready for bed.

His insides flamed; they’d been simmering all evening, even at his father’s house. The woman was driving him crazy with want. Whatever she possessed that had caused him to marry her on the spur of the moment still plagued him. And unless he started doing something about it, he’d be in no condition to be seen in public ever again.

Adam set his glass aside and approached the door. He’d planned to give her a few more nights before he paid a call; he’d thought it the decent thing to do, given that they had skipped the courtship and gone straight to the honeymoon. And once he’d formulated a plan, he didn’t change it. But now he had to deal with extenuating circumstances, which were pressing against his fly. That made a change in plans more than acceptable.

However, the problem of the closed door remained. Adam rubbed his hands together. He was setting a precedent here. If he knocked, he’d be obligated to knock every time. He didn’t like asking permission for anything.

Adam opened the door slowly. “Haley?”

She sat on the bench in front of the vanity, studying her reflection in the large oval mirror as she brushed her hair. Turning, she looked surprised, but not shocked; it pleased him.

Adam gazed around. “All settled?”

She turned back to the mirror and ran the brush through her hair. “Yes, I think so.”

“Good, good.” He eased across the room and stood behind her where he could view both her back and her front reflected in the mirror. She wore a longsleeved dressing gown that covered her ankles and buttoned up to a high collar. It was white, and made her look very pure and innocent.

Adam slid his hands in his pockets, jingling his coins. “Sorry about Aunt Izzy.”

Haley stroked the brush through her hair and glimpsed his reflection in the mirror. He wore the same dark suit he’d worn to dinner, but his jacket was off, the sleeves of his white shirt turned back, exposing his hairy wrists; his collar stood open.

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I loved your aunt.”

“She’s a crazy old bird.” He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. “Her and her…readings.”

“I liked her.”

“She travels extensively, knows people from one end of the globe to the other. She’s been married three times that I know of. Martin claims more than that.”

“So many husbands?” Haley’s gaze met his in the mirror. “How does she get rid of them all?”

The gleam in her eye unsettled him. “Never mind.”

A moment passed while Adam studied the vanity. An assortment of delicate porcelain bottles, decanters and jars sat there, pale blue, pink. There was a green atomizer with a feather sticking out, and a huge powder puff. A jeweled hand mirror and comb lay to one side. Mysterious woman things. It smelled good here. He liked it.

“Who is Amelia?”

Adam’s heart rose in his throat. His gaze dropped to the carpet, and he studied the tips of his shoes for a moment. “No one special,” he finally said, and lifted his gaze to meet Haley’s in the mirror. “She left a long time ago. Aunt Izzy is a bit out of touch.”

Her woman’s heart swelled, and Haley knew there was more, but she let it go. “I thought I’d invite your sister for luncheon this week.”

Startled, he looked in the mirror and met her gaze. “Gwen? You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s the proper thing to do. That is one of the reasons I’m here, isn’t it? To insure you maintain the proper social position?”

Yes, it was, but it sounded cold, hearing her say it. He shrugged. “No need to be proper with family.”

“I’d like to get to know her better. I had no sisters of my own, you know. She must be only a few years younger than you.”

He thought for a moment. “Thirty, this year.”

“Married? Children?”

“Gwen never married.”

“That’s odd. Is she one of those career women?” Scandalous as it was, the idea of a job excited Haley, but she couldn’t imagine Martin Harrington allowing it.

Adam frowned distastefully. “No, of course not.”

Haley shrugged. “Then I wonder why she never married?”

Adam eased closer, drawn by the delicate scent wafting up from her. “Maybe she just never drank the punch at a wedding.”

Haley froze as she felt his hand in the back of her hair. Soft, gentle, exploring fingers. Her body tingled, urging her to lean back, just enough to feel him against her. His hand plowed deeper, and she felt the warmth of his fingertips against her neck. Delightful. She wanted to melt against him. She wanted to encourage him. She wanted to—

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.

“I was going to invite you out to lunch, but I see I’m too late.”

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