Chapter Twelve

Everett, Washington

Erin entered the darkened house. The ticking of the grandfather clock echoed across the hardwood floors, making her head throb all the more. She removed her shoes and left them on the braided entry rug.

Moonlight slanted through the stained-glass window, lighting her way toward the staircase. She tiptoed up the steps. The stairway suddenly creaked, and light flooded the crack at the bottom of Maggie’s bedroom door.

Erin hurried the last steps, her stocking feet moving so fast along the polished flooring, she slid past her bedroom door. She groped for the doorknob threatening to pass her reach, darted into her room, and shut the door.

“Miss Erin?” Maggie called.

She couldn’t feign sleep. Maggie knew better. “Um, yes?”

“May I come in a moment?”

“Just a second.” Before opening the door, Erin licked the tip of her finger and tucked loose tendrils back into her tousled chignon.

“Maggie,” Erin said, holding the door open, silently cursing the heat racing to her cheeks.

The servant cocked her head, her observant eyes narrowing. “I wanted to speak with you before your father did,” she said, sidestepping Erin and entering the bedroom.

Erin shut the door and turned around to face her. “What about?”

“Mr. Frederick Dimsdale. He came here tonight looking for you, and he and your father got to talking.”

“What were they talking about this time?” She folded her arms across her chest in an attempt to subdue Maggie’s cool, measured gaze.

“I try not to meddle in your life, you know that, yes?”

Erin frowned. “Yes, but what’s the urgency —”

“What I’m trying to say is, normally I’m not one to interfere in your life.”

The back of Erin’s head pounded, and the thought of coming up with a plausible story for her father by morning, explaining her late return, made her feel like retching. “Maggie, I’m tired. I need to go to bed. Perhaps we can discuss this in the morning?”

“Dear, sit down. Mr. Dimsdale came here in a mighty huff tonight. He was abrupt with me, which isn’t like him, so I stood in the hallway and listened to his conversation with your father.”

Erin sat on the bed. “So you eavesdropped?”

Maggie pursed her lips. “Well, yes, I did. Mr. Dimsdale reeked of whiskey and Lord knows what else, and I didn’t know what to expect.”

Erin rolled her eyes. “Go on.”

“Wobbling and swaying, Mr. Dimsdale entered the house insisting I fetch your father, which I did. I heard him tell Mr. Richland that he had seen you leave in a carriage with a man. I couldn’t make out every word, but I think he knew the man’s name. I tried to hear more of the heated conversation, but your father shut the door to his study. After that, I only got bits and pieces. The last thing I heard your father say as he bid him goodbye at the door was that Mr. Dimsdale needed to ‘sleep it off,’ and your father reassured him he would indeed speak with you in the morning. I thought it fair I gave you some warning.”

Lord. Erin’s mind raced. She could handle Father’s displeasure. She’d grown accustomed to that, but Frederick’s spying on her was another matter.

“It’s not my place, Miss. I know that. I’m not your mother, God rest her lovely soul, but I do hope you know what you’re doing. Mr. Dimsdale has nothing but the best intentions —”

Erin snorted louder than she’d expected. “Best intentions? You must be joking. A man spying on a woman he claims to be fond of is not well intentioned.”

Had Erin been home when Frederick came to the house stinking drunk, demanding to speak to her father about her, she would have slapped his face beet-red. Both her father and Frederick constantly injected their old-fashioned rules into her contemporary beliefs, never once asking what she wanted in life. The ridiculous bullying was going to stop. It was time they respected her wishes, her dreams, her aspirations.

Erin’s head pounded with throbbing pain. “I appreciate your concern, Maggie. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Thank you for the warning.”

Maggie patted Erin’s arm. “I have faith in you, child.”

“I’m glad someone around here does.”

* * * *

ERIN yawned and stretched her arms over her head, welcoming the morning sun flooding the bedroom window. The cotton nightgown scraped across her nipples, still tender from the ravishing the night before.

Lord. She rubbed the throbbing bump on the back of her head, recalling the bizarre evening with Derek in more detail. The disturbing vision she had seen while in the bathtub with him had seemed so real. After the unsettling images faded minutes later, there was no way she could have brushed them aside and made love. Her clumsy fall knocking her out cold only made matters worse.

Waking in Derek’s bed with those soulful eyes of his framed with lines of concern, only confused her more, and she didn’t have the heart to press him about the name he had called out just before she hit the floor. Ersule. Somehow, she already knew the lovely name belonged to his deceased wife.

Everything about Derek intrigued her. He was different from other men — fashionable, contemporary, but wise and old-fashioned, too. A sense of fluency and ease filled the air when she was near him, a comforting familiarity that carried far beyond their physical attraction. The heated, peculiar night with him at the costume party, the sexual play in the bathtub just last night — Derek knew exactly how to please her.

Erin thought back to her intimate awakening while away at college. She had assumed her English Literature professor’s modest style of lovemaking was likely as good as it got for any woman. It wasn’t until she had made passionate love with Derek that she realized what she had been missing all along. Had the professor not disappeared from the face of the Earth, perhaps she would still be pining away for his affections, unaware that the rat was actually married with three children.

The image of Derek, stark naked, smiling, standing above her next to the bathtub, flashed through her mind. She sighed. Too bad the disturbing visions intervened when they did.

Determined to keep focused, Erin shook the image from her head and rose from bed. Voting day. So many women had worked tirelessly in the last months, gaining support from male family members and friends. Hopefully, all the effort would pay off. While dressing, she heard Frederick talking with her father downstairs.

Her stomach dropped to her toes. She rushed to the door and pinned her ear against the wood.

“Well, my boy, I do wish you luck,” her father said. “Between the two of us, we’ll put an end to this.”

“And you certainly know how much I care for her,” Frederick replied.

“I do, my boy. I’ll send Maggie upstairs to get her. I believe she’s up. I heard footsteps in her room.”

Erin quickly brushed her hair and twisted the mass into a tidy chignon. She raised her chin, pinned her mother’s cameo on her blouse, and smoothed the sleeves.

“Miss Erin?” called Maggie. “Your father and Mr. Dimsdale are downstairs. They wish to speak with you.”

“All right. Inform them I’ll be down in a moment.”

Erin brushed loose powder along her nose and cheeks, erasing the rosy hue produced by her intimate thoughts of Derek moments earlier. She smoothed her skirts and inhaled a deep cleansing breath. There was no way around it; she had just been summoned to the lion’s den.

She took slow, measured steps down the staircase and entered the bright dining room. Maggie had set out a plate of biscuits, jam, and eggs. Rather than greet the two men in the parlor, whose eyes followed her every move, she took a seat in her dining chair. If she didn’t get some food in her stomach, she’d get sick.

Her father marched into the dining room with Frederick on his heels. “Ah, there you are. Frederick’s here to see you.”

Frederick cleared his throat. “Good morning, Erin. I was hoping —”

“Would you men like some coffee?” Maggie asked.

“Uh, yes, thank you,” said Frederick, promptly taking a seat

in the dining chair next to Erin. Edward sat at the head of the table.

Maggie quickly returned with the coffee pot. Erin noticed the older woman’s hands trembled as she poured the steamy liquid into cups.

Erin smoothed the jam on her biscuit and took a healthy bite, followed by a sip of coffee.

“So, Erin.” Frederick scooted closer and lowered his voice. “I was thinking perhaps you and I could get away today.”

Erin frowned. “That’s impossible. I have work to do. You know it’s an important day.”

“Oh, yes, the vote. Well, your father has seen fit —”

Edward leaned forward. “What Frederick is trying to say is I have given you the day off. I think — we think — perhaps you should take some time away and go enjoy yourself for a change. You’ve been terribly busy these last days.”

There they go again. The two of them planning her day the same way they plotted her entire life. The wedge of biscuit she’d just swallowed felt heavy as a brick inside her stomach. She took a long drink of coffee, tossed the linen napkin on the table, and glared at both of them. “What do you want me to say? I’ve already told you what I’m doing today.”

“There’s no need to be sour, Erin. I took that into account. I have David monitoring the polling. I thought perhaps you could write an article, if the women get the vote, that is.”

If the women get the vote. He and Frederick would prefer women never got the right to vote. Heathens — both of them.

“You’re my employer, Father. Is that what you want — a story if women get the vote?”

Edward’s round cheeks burned red. “Well, yes, that’s what I had planned.” He waved his fingers. “But a story either way is fine.”

Frederick slid his hand over hers. “Dear, I was hoping to take you out today for a ride in my new buggy. Perhaps have a lovely dinner —”

Erin freed her hand. “I don’t feel like an outing today. In fact, if I’ve been dismissed from working today I think I’d rather return to my room.”

“That’s rude, Erin,” her father said. “Frederick has come to see you, and your attitude is most unladylike.”

“Unladylike?” She rose from her chair. “It’s too early in the morning for this nonsense. If you invited Frederick, then perhaps the two of you can spend the day together.”

“Erin!” Edward rose. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do about you anymore.” He sighed and left the room.

Frederick raised his hands. “Hold on. Hold on, now.” He twisted the ends of his bristly mustache to gleaming points. “Erin, please, calm down. We should talk.” He guided her by the elbow to the parlor. “Come now.”

His patronizing tone made the contents of her stomach instantly curdle. She inhaled deeply, trying to squelch her rising anger. Avoiding his gaze, she fanned out her skirt, and sat on the couch. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

Frederick slid next to her. “I’m not here to upset you. Honest, I’m not.”

His tranquil tenor took her by surprise. She lifted her lashes from her heated cheeks and met his gaze.

His brown eyes softened. “Please don’t be angry with your father. He means well, surely you know that.”

Her shoulders curled forward. It was true. Her father loved her, and ever since Mother’s passing, he had grown particularly overprotective. “I … I know he does.”

He reached for her hand. “Despite my inapt misgivings at times, I, too, want what’s best for you. You know that, right?”

She frowned and tilted her chin. “Yes, I suppose. But surely you must know how much it infuriates me when the two of you close ranks on me.”

A smile spread beneath his mustache. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you that impression. It’s just that … it’s just that your father and I, well … ” He sucked in his cheeks and released her hand.

“Well, what?”

“Well, what I’m trying to say, perhaps not as eloquently as I had hoped, is that your father and I are alike. Both of us care deeply for you and want what’s best for you. I was hoping to do this later in the day, but … ” His eyes stayed fixed upon hers as he rummaged through his trouser pocket.

Erin met his longing gaze with a questioning frown. “What are you doing?”

“Ah.” Having found what he was looking for, he smiled and dropped to one knee. “Erin —”

“Oh, God.” She shot to her feet. “Oh, Lord in heaven, Frederick, what are you doing?”

Frederick’s mouth twisted into an awkward smile. “Erin, I was wondering, hoping, really, if you would … ” He cleared his throat. “As I was saying … ” He opened a small burgundy box.

Erin flopped on the couch and cupped a hand over her mouth.

“I would be honored if you would agree to be my wife.”

The brilliant diamond solitaire gleamed in the sunlight glinting through the damask drapes. She gazed into Frederick’s longing eyes. He was her friend, but their friendship was often strained by his possessive, unyielding nature. Did he truly believe the two of them would make a compatible couple? “I don’t know what to say.”

He plucked the ring from the delicate box, rose up from his knee, and sat next to her on the couch. “Well, I was hoping you would say yes, my dear.”

Her mind raced as fast as the beat of her fluttering heart. “I — it’s just that … ”

His eyes prodded her for an answer.

Erin cast her gaze toward her meddling father’s shadow, hovering outside the parlor doorway. “Frederick.” She took his hand in hers.

He inched in closer. “Say it, Erin. Say yes, and you’ll make me the happiest man on earth. You know in your heart that we would make a marvelous couple.”

She bit down on her bottom lip and squeezed his hand. “I enjoy making you happy, Fredrick, but … ”

His eyebrows arched high. “But?”

“I’m sorry. I cannot marry you.”

The muscles along his jawline pulsed as he wedged the ring into the case and shut the velvet box with a snap of his finger. He shot to his feet and paced to the large picture window. “It’s because of Rudliff, isn’t it?”

Her entire body stiffened. “This has nothing to do with Der — Mr. Rudliff.” She joined Frederick at the window and placed a hand on his shoulder.

He jerked at her touch and turned away.

Erin sighed and spun him around to face her. “Honestly, Frederick, do you truly believe in your heart you and I would make a happy home? I cannot thank you enough for your thoughtful fondness, but I’m sorry, my affections for you do not go beyond friendship.”

Frederick’s dark eyes narrowed, simmering with anger. “You know, I should have expected this. Ever since you banded together in those women’s groups, you’ve changed, and not for the better I might add, little lady.”

Anger seared her cheeks. “This is exactly why we can’t be together.” She tilted her chin high and turned away from him on her heels.

He seized her arm. “Face it, Erin. That’s not the reason —”

“It is most certainly the reason!”

He leaned in, his face only inches from hers. “It’s your ridiculous infatuation with Derek Rudliff. Let’s be honest, my dear. I saw you yesterday.” He pointed a firm finger in her face. “I saw you get in his carriage and enter into his house.”

“You’ve been spying on me,” she hissed between pursed lips.

He rolled his eyes and turned away. “Ever since I saw that look in your eyes after you met him at the cemetery, I knew something was up between you two. I went to your father with my concerns. We both agreed it was best to make an honest woman of you before you humiliate yourself further.”

She swatted his hand from her arm. “Oh, how very noble of you, Frederick. You came here and asked me to marry you to save me from myself? Is that right?”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “You don’t know him, Erin, and —”

“Ha! And you do?” she said, challenging his seething gaze.

He leaned forward and whispered, “I know a lot more about him than you do, my dear.”

She laced her fingers together in an attempt to stop their shaking. “I don’t believe you. Go home, Frederick.”

He seized her shoulders, nearly knocking her from her feet. “I know he’ll hurt you. He’s not the man you think he is. What do you know about that red-headed woman we saw him with at the cemetery?”

She planted her feet firmly on the floor and stared into Frederick’s angry eyes prodding her for an immediate answer. “Her? She’s an old friend and new in town. Now, unhand me, you fool.”

Frederick snorted and dropped his arms limply to his sides. “Is that what Rudliff told you? Perhaps you should venture downtown and check out the brothel on Chestnut, my dear.”

She frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He gasped, his mouth twisting in disgust. “My Lord. Now you curse like a dockhand, too.”

Erin marched to the entry and opened the front door. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense. It’s best you leave.”

Frederick clicked his tongue, a wry smile on his thin lips. “Like I said, my dear, you might wish to venture downtown, chaperoned of course, and see for yourself the new madam in town. Seems Rudliff’s ‘old friend’ Regine Delacour is quite the businesswoman.”

“I … I don’t believe you. Have some dignity, Frederick.” She grabbed hold of the knob to slam the door in his arrogant face.

Frederick moved quickly, wedging himself in the doorway. “It’s not just you I’ve been keeping a watchful eye upon. It’s Rudliff, too. Not only is his friend Madame Delacour a trollop, he owns the building and set her up in the business himself.”

Her father darted into the room. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear —”

Erin’s jaw dropped. “Overhear! You’ve been hovering like a ghoul outside the doorway ever since you left the room.” She shook her head in attempt to flush her fury. “Both of you are really too much. I have to get out of here.” She grabbed her coat, hastened past Frederick, and marched down the porch.

“Erin, wait,” her father called.

“Where are you going without a hat or umbrella?” Frederick called. “Have you gone daft?”