Nessa Read online

  He’d been devastated the night they’d left. He’d followed them all the way to the train station, not understanding what was so urgent, but then he’d seen him, the man with the funny hat that her father had wanted her to marry. The one they called Dutch. As soon as he’d seen him, he’d left. He didn’t need any further explanation. She’d made her decision, and it wasn’t as if there’d been anything he could have done about it.

  It wasn’t until the following morning that he’d learned the truth, and by then, he had no idea where she’d gone off too. He’d spent days into weeks trying find some hint of where they’d gone. All he’d been able to think about was making sure she was safe and well. A tiny part of him had thought now that her father was gone, maybe they could be together. He knew Kara wouldn’t mind. She didn’t think the way the older folks did. She was more open about social classes, and she’d have become the head of the family.

  It had taken Henry two weeks to give up on them returning and search out another position at a stable. It had been rumored that there would be a position opening at the McCarthys’, and since Henry knew Genevieve slightly through Nessa, he’d decided to pay a call. Her father had been enthusiastic, giving him the position without much fodder. After he was hired and established was when the questions started. He had kept quiet even though the truth was he hadn’t realized how deep into the dark side of New York his former employer had been. But, then again, that wasn’t a stable boy or a driver’s job. They didn’t ask questions, and they kept secrets.

  “Can we please move it along? I’ve an appointment for dinner this evening.”

  Henry was startled from his musings by the tinkling sound of Genevieve’s voice. He hadn’t heard what she’d said though. “Sorry, m’lady?” he said over his shoulder.

  “Really, Henry?”

  He could hear the irritation in her voice. It was the same tone she used with him whenever he skirted her advances.

  “Are you even paying attention?”

  Henry shook his head but stopped short. “My apologies, miss.”

  He could almost hear her shaking her head and rolling her eyes. He had all her moves memorized at this point. She would often try to lure him into compromising positions when her father was around. He’d known all about her games before he was employed there, though. On one of his many late night walks with Nessa, she had told him all about how Genevieve’s father only paid attention to her because of her ability to be matched well, often treating his daughter like a commodity. Henry didn’t fault her for trying to gain the man’s attention in some other way. He just wished she’d do it in another fashion, maybe something that wouldn’t jeopardize his job. She was sweet, and Henry never took her up on her offers, but someone else might. He’d hate to see such a lovely lady be ruined over something so irresponsible.

  Henry made himself focus on the task at hand, and once he did, they were trotting along a good clip, arriving at the house in next to no time. Henry settled the horses and hopped down from his post, rounding the carriage to help Miss Genevieve down. She placed her gloved hand in his. “Thank you, Henry.” She added an appreciative smile.

  He nodded in return. “Once again, my apologies, miss.”

  He watched as her face fell a fraction. “Yes, hmmmmm… Is everything alright with you?”

  He nodded again. “Of course, miss.” Her hand was still in his even though both their feet were firmly on the ground. He went to release hers, but she stayed clutched to his. “You know, Henry, I like to think that we’re friends.” She batted her eyelashes. “You and I, I mean. I know you haven’t worked here long, but we’ve known each other much longer.” She took a step towards him.

  He knew what she was going to try to do. She wanted information, as usual. They always did. They knew very well that drivers and housekeepers held a lot of knowledge. They had the power to destroy a household if pushed. Henry knew better than to tell them anything. No matter how hard they tried to get him to share, he wouldn’t. And not just because once he broke the trust of his former employer, his current one would no longer hold him with any esteem, but because it was the right thing to do. As was taking a step back for each that Miss McCarthy took toward him, which he did as he told her, “Friends? Yes, course we are.”

  She smiled in the way he knew she meant to be coy. She was too small and innocent looking to actually be coy though. “So if we’re friends, you can tell me things. Right?” She took another step towards him.

  He stepped back. “Yes, miss.”

  She smiled as she stepped forward again. “So tell me, Henry, what is it that has you not paying attention?”

  Henry shook his head, trying to clear it. Her closeness was making him uncomfortable, realizing then that he’d forgotten to take the step back. He swallowed hard. “I’m fine, miss. Truly.”

  She took another step. They weren’t quite touching, but they were standing way too close to be considered proper. He held his breath, waiting to see if she’d stay where she was. He couldn’t back up any further. If he tried, his back would be against the carriage.

  “What, may I ask, is going on here?” Mr. McCarthy came barreling out the front door. Genevieve tipped herself into Henry’s arms. He caught her and held her as her father descended on them. Henry was shaking in both fury and terror. He couldn’t believe she’d finally gotten away with it. That woman in the train station had distracted him so that he’d not even been able to protect himself or Miss Genevieve properly.

  Henry often considered not following through with her advances as protecting her. By not flat out refusing her, he knew she wouldn’t flirt with anyone else, and he was still saving her from herself.

  “Papa! Oh, my.” She righted herself after Henry lifted her back straight on her feet. She smoothed her skirt. “Papa, Henry saved me. I tripped getting out of the carriage, and he caught me.”

  Mr. McCarthy was red-faced mad. But, then again, he was often red faced. He was a portly man, and often times it looked as if his bow was too tight. Like someone had filled his head with air and tied it off. Henry stood firm as the man glared at him. “You must be less careless, Genevieve. No man will want a ruined woman, neither in reputation nor in appearance. Care for yourself or you’ll not go out!”

  Henry watched the man stomp his foot in exuberance before he turned and waddled back into the house. Henry used the moment the door was closing to his advantage. “You really shouldn’t bait him like that.” He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Nor should you continue to take advantage of my gentlemanly manner. The day may come when I change my mind.”

  Genevieve laughed and tossed her long hair over her shoulder. She smiled brightly at him. “As if I don’t know you’re still madly in love with Nessa. You forget, dear Henry…women talk.”

  Chapter Three

  Lillian had pulled Nessa into a hug so tight she couldn’t breathe. “No. No. No. You shouldn’t have returned,” she whispered against Nessa’s neck.

  Nessa hugged the older woman back. It felt nice to be with her once again. Lillian had been the closest thing she’d ever had to a mother, other than Kara. She’d missed her while they’d been gone. Finally she felt Lillian’s arms relax, and air filled her lungs. “I had to, Lil. I promise we have a plan.”

  Lillian let her go, and the two separated. “You look well.”

  Nessa nodded and smiled. “Never better.” She returned the woman’s smile with one of her own. “How is it you’re here? I expected the house to be boarded.”

  Lillian pulled Nessa from the kitchen, down the hall and to the sitting room, where she deposited her in one chair and she took another. “After you girls left, I decided to stay. I thought that if I held my ground, the men, the ones that worked with your father, that they’d let me be. Especially if they thought maybe you’d return. So that night when they came, you two had just gotten away. If they’d come to the back…” She shook her head and let it fall into her hands.

  Nessa knew the woman well, so she saw this gestur
e for what it was. One of concern and worry. Not to mention exasperation. Nessa reached out and took her hand.

  “So when they came, I told them you were sleeping, that they needed to let you rest. That you’d just lost your father, and you needed to mourn. It worked, but only until morning.” She picked her head back up. “They returned just after breakfast, and I acted as if I was cooking for the three of us. As if I had no idea you’d left. When they came barreling in the house and searched it, I fell into tears, worried over your welfare.” She smiled at Nessa and squeezed her hand. “They believed me. They left me be. I think they thought you’d return, and with me here, you’d think everything to be as it was.”

  Nessa nodded. That made a lot of sense but didn’t fall in line with what Dutch had told them. She thought about Dutch and her sister and Aedan. It was odd that Lillian hadn’t asked after Kara, which oddly made her remember what Dutch had said, “Trust no one.”

  Nessa let Lillian fuss over her for a little while longer. It felt nice having someone to fret. She made her sandwiches and brought her a large glass of much-needed water. Nessa hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the smell of freshly baked bread and ham hit her nose. She ate with gusto while Lillian prattled on about the goings on around town. Nessa listened closely for Henry’s name, hoping to hear something of him. She hadn’t figured out how to ask without raising suspicion.

  Lillian left her to run her a bath, and she was finally able to take a breath and look around. It all looked exactly the same. Frozen in time while her life spiraled and changed so much that she was unrecognizable. She’d spent the last few months caring for herself. She’d worked at the bank a few hours every day, and then she’d return to the house on the hill, where she lived with her sister and new brother-in-law, to do work there. She’d milked cows and collected eggs. She’d beaten rugs and washed dishes. She laughed to herself as she thought about what Lillian would say if she told her.

  “Something’s funny?” Lillian asked from behind her.

  Nessa turned in her seat, shaking her head. “Not really, no. More…well, you tell me. I was just thinking about how, though nothing here has changed, I have. I was expecting home to have changed as well.”

  Lillian’s dark eyes widened. “I suppose it’s natural to expect everything to be on the path you’re on.” She sat across from Nessa at the table. “But, truthfully, everything has its own path. Even if at one point you’re on it side-by-side, a turn or fork could come at any moment.”

  Lillian’s words settled over Nessa like a heavy quilt, threatening to smoother her. What if Henry had moved on? What if he no longer cared for her, or what if he’d found someone that would share his life as he lived it—the one thing that had always stood between them? Nessa was ready to forget all that, but even if she found him, she had to convince him it was true. She sighed.

  “Your bath is ready.”

  “Thank you.” Nessa got up from her chair and hugged the older woman. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone care for me the way you have tonight.” She smiled and let her arms drop from around Lillian. “In fact, you were the last one to care for me this way.”

  Lillian returned her smile with a soft one of her own. “Tomorrow you’ll have to tell me all about your adventure west.”

  Nessa nodded. “Yes, it was an adventure.” And with those few words, she went upstairs, undressed, and slipped into the warm bath Lillian had drawn for her.

  Nessa slept fitfully and woke early. Normally it took her a few moments to gather herself in the morning, but from the moment her eyes opened, she was on edge, the little hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention. She dressed quickly, and as quietly as possible snuck downstairs to her father’s study.

  She opened the door just far enough for her to slip into the room and shut the door softly behind her. The space overwhelmed her, not giving her a chance to get her bearings. It still smelled of his pipe and the faintest whiffs of whiskey. She inhaled deeply, savoring the memories that flooded through her.

  She didn’t have time to dawdle or dwell though. Pushing herself from the past, she headed straight for the desk and the stacks of papers that had accumulated. She picked up the first pile and shuffled through it. They were all notes of condolence. It looked like Lillian had been collecting them. The reality of what she’d gotten herself into hit hard when she picked up the stack next to it and found the household ledger beneath them. Lillian had been caring for things, but debts had been accumulating as well. She’d have to use some of the money she’d saved to pay for them. She hadn’t anticipated that.

  Sighing and resigning herself to the fact that she’d be living more simply than initially planned, she read through the notes of mourning for her departed father. One in particular seemed to stand out. It even mentioned her and Kara by name.

  Dearest Kara and Nessa,

  I realize you probably do not remember me or my family, but please know that we’ve been thinking of you during this time. If you ever should need anything, please pay a call. Your father was a dear friend and will be greatly missed.

  Sincerely,

  N. Straus

  Nessa sat bewildered. N. Straus…she knew that name. Everyone did. He was one of the wealthiest men in the City. Her great friend Genevieve had at one time had her heart set on marrying his only son, Oscar. He was the most sought after match in the entire East. She remembered seeing him one time at a ball. She’d gone with Genevieve. They were dressed in their finest, and she’d even had her hair curled and done up by one of the McCarthys’ ladies. Lillian was good but had never done something nearly as complex with her hair, ever. She’d seen him from across the room. He was gorgeous and, from what she’d heard, brilliant to boot. Genevieve had all but melted when her father had arranged for them to dance.

  Nessa wondered how her father had known them, if it was the same man.

  “Would you like some breakfast?”

  Nessa jumped from her spot in the chair. So lost in her own thoughts was she that she hadn’t heard Lillian open the door. She nodded and once she caught her breath told her, “Yes, thank you,” before she collapsed back into the chair.

  She had planned to set things up with her new employer that morning and then wanted to visit Genevieve. She’d missed her company. Nessa loved Kara, but she wasn’t as fun as her girl friends were. Kara had always treated her more like a daughter than a sister, and she missed having someone to giggle and be frivolous with. The women of Creede were wonderful, but they had far more serious things to think about besides ribbons and who’s been wearing the same dress for more than two seasons. But after reading that note, she knew she had to change her plans. Genevieve would have to wait. Today, after the bank, she’d be paying a visit to Mr. Nathan Straus.

  Henry watched Genevieve climb the stairs and stayed until she was fully in the house. He tried so hard to protect her. He really wished she’d put some effort into protecting herself. Shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation, he led the horse and carriage back to the stable before unhooking them and setting to work caring for the horse.

  The city streets were rough on shoes. He constantly had to have work done on them. The mare he’d taken out today was one of their most powerful. She had a pep rarely seen in a horse her age. He brushed her rhythmically as she ate the oats he’d given her. He enjoyed working with animals. They weren’t complicated. Not like people were. He still hadn’t been able to shake the woman from the station from his mind. He thought about Nessa and their time together, remembering all the good moments and unfortunately not being able to block out the bad.

  He’d enjoyed each moment from the very beginning. It had started with looks and small gestures but developed into secret meetings and walks together after dusk. She’d sneak out of the house after everyone had gone to bed, and he’d meet her by the back door. The first time was particularly exciting. She’d allowed him to take her hand as they walked. He’d never felt anything like it. Her skin was sof
t and warm, and just holding her hand set his heart to beat faster and his belly to tighten. It was the best feeling in the world. Until three nights later when he’d wrapped his arms around her; they’d held each other for a long time before they’d both given in and had their first and only kiss.

  Remembering the way her lips felt against his was sweet torture. He could almost smell and taste her there within the current moment. He’d spent time being sure he committed every detail to memory. He wanted to be able to recall it anytime he wanted. Standing there, absent-mindedly brushing Rose, it was like he was back there. Covered by night, just the two of them. He’d never forget it.

  “I think that about finished, boy.”

  Henry turned toward the familiar voice. He nodded and dropped the hand that was brushing Rose’s back. “Right, sir. I’ll just stow the mare in her stall and get out of your way.”

  Henry liked working for Alonzo. He’d been with the McCarthys for a long time, and he knew every inch of the City. Not only was he Mr. McCarthy’s driver, but he was also in charge of the stables and all outdoor work on the grounds.

  “Off you go, then. Be back and ready to hitch up in two hours.”

  Henry didn’t ask questions. He just did as he was told. That didn’t stop him from wondering what he was going to be doing, or where he’d be going. Genevieve had said she had someone coming around for supper, so he hadn’t imagined she’d want to go out. What he thought didn’t matter though. He was not paid to think, just to drive and care for the animals. “Come on, Miss Rose, let’s get you settled in.” He petted the horse down the length of her nose.

  Henry shut the gate on Rose’s stall and left the stable. He went straight to his small room in the back of the house. The McCarthys’ mansion was huge, like nothing he’d ever seen before, and though he lived in it, he’d never even seen the sitting room. He was only permitted to be in the back of the house and on the grounds. Mr. McCarthy didn’t take chances with having male underlings inside his or his daughter’s personal space.