A Marriage Deal With The Outlaw. Harper St. George
Читать онлайн книгу.
to your education, then go with our blessing.
Your father and I have discussed this. The decision has been made. You are to come home after the wedding and meet the young man I have in mind for you.
With a little luck, we’ll begin to plan your own wedding.
Your loving mother
Caroline Hartford stared at the rumpled letter in her hand. She’d had it for days now, and every time she read the thing it managed to make her chest feel heavy and hollow at the same time. The message had come on the morning before they’d left her aunt’s home in Boston to begin their trip west, a special delivery by courier from her mother who was visiting New York City with friends. What had been a joyous morning of packing and anticipation had quickly soured, those happy feelings replaced with dread and bitter betrayal.
Betrayal. There. She’d finally thought it after all this time trying to name it something else. Her fingers clenched around the thick, creamy paper, but she stopped herself from crumpling it again. Placing the sheet on her knee, she painstakingly ran a finger over each of the creases to smooth them out again and then adjusted her spectacles on her nose.
It had become a ritual. Read it, become angry, crumple it, read it again, take a deep breath and smooth it out. All of that just to put it away and repeat the process when the urge became too overwhelming to resist.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. That thing again?” Her aunt snatched the paper away and stuffed it into her reticule before Caroline could stop her. “I’ve sat here and watched you look at that horrible communication for the better part of a week. Enough, already. You’ll deal with your mother later and that’s that.”
“But Aunt Prudie—” When the woman held up her hand and looked out the train’s window, Caroline realized she sounded like a petulant child and took a deep breath. “I feel betrayed,” she tried again. “Father was so excited when I was accepted into the program.” She could see him now, smiling at the dinner table and talking to whomever they’d happened to have over that evening about how she’d be among the first women accepted into the Boston University School of Medicine. He’d taught her everything she knew and was proud she’d be following in his footsteps. She’d trailed him around in his practice ever since she’d been tall enough to see over the tabletops.
“He’s still very excited.” Prudie turned and ran her fingers over a strand of Caroline’s hair that had fallen free of the pins. “But you know your mother. She’s never approved of your choice.”
It was true. Her mother had never understood the sense of fulfillment Caroline felt when she helped a patient. Caroline suspected that her mother didn’t care, because it wasn’t part of the plan she had for her only child. Perhaps if Caroline had had siblings things would be different, but she didn’t, so all her mother’s hopes of a society marriage rested on Caroline’s shoulders. “No, she hasn’t, and she’s never kept a secret of that. I suppose I thought he would make her see reason. Why didn’t he mention anything to me before the letter?”
“In a way, he has made her see reason,” Prudie said. “She’s not saying you can’t go. Merely that you need to have a husband. And I suspect your mother wanted to send you a letter so you’d have a little time to come to terms with it before seeing her later this week.”
Caroline leaned back against the plush seat and folded her arms over her chest. “It feels a lot like extortion. What husband is going to be happy to marry me and then lose me to medical school come autumn? He’ll be far more likely to forbid me to go. For that matter, I don’t even know of anyone I’d want to marry. I can’t even fathom the ‘young man’ she has in mind. So you see, this is all an attempt to keep me from going.”
Aunt Prudie clicked her tongue and ran her hand over Caroline’s shoulder. “We’ll figure out something. Remember, your father is very much on your side in this. In the meantime, let’s enjoy the trip as we’d planned. It’s your first time out West and you’re missing how beautiful it is. Just look at those mountains. Have you ever seen anything so green in your life?”
Caroline glanced back toward the window. The sun was just starting to set, painting the mountains in the distance with a burnished glow, setting off the deep green of the shadows. “I’m sorry I’m being so gloomy.” Aunt Prudie was right. There was no reason to allow her troubles at home to interfere with their adventure.
“Don’t be sorry, child. No one wants a marriage forced on them.” The haunted look in her eye made Caroline think that Prudie knew better than most. Her aunt’s marriage hadn’t been the happiest. “I make you this promise right now. You’ll go to medical school come September. I’ll see to it myself.”
Caroline smiled and gave the woman a hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you for putting up with me.”
“Yes, you’re a terrible burden,” Aunt Prudie teased. “Now, go to the dining car and fetch me another scone before they put them away for the night. Fetch your father back, too. He’s probably fallen asleep over the newspaper again.”
Laughing, Caroline rose and paused at the door of their private compartment to look back at her aunt. When her mother hadn’t understood her ambitions, her father’s sister had. People said that she favored the woman more than her own mother. They both possessed the same blonde hair and blue eyes that ran in her father’s side of the family. Aunt Prudie was like her second mother. This trip out West for a family wedding was supposed to be their last holiday together before Caroline went to school and then—hopefully—began taking on more patients in her father’s practice or possibly even the hospital. She’d be foolish to allow a letter to ruin it.
She unlatched the door and made sure it clicked shut behind her before making her way down the dimly lit hallway to the next car. Her low heels barely made a sound on the dark red carpet. The dining car was four cars ahead, but she didn’t mind the walk after being cooped up in that compartment all afternoon. The sway of the train was making her tired, and she stifled a yawn as she jiggled the handle of the stubborn door that led to the next car.
The door flew open unexpectedly, pushing her backward into the paneled wall and knocking her off balance. A bearded man with a crazed look in his eye nearly ran her over in his haste to come inside. She tried to jump back out of his way, but he grabbed her. Before she realized his intention, he’d covered her mouth with his large hand and was pulling her awkwardly with him on his way down the hallway. She clawed at his arm and kicked her feet out, trying to find some purchase on the floor or wall, but he was abnormally strong, or at least, that’s how it felt. She’d never actually been manhandled before.
The man kept looking back over his shoulder, and finally she looked that way, too. Two men had just made their way through the door.
“Hell,” the bigger one said when he saw her.
“Let her go, Bennett,” the calmer one spoke. “This is between us.” His hat was pulled too low for her to see his face, but he spoke with an accent, the vowels elongated a bit.
The man—Bennett, apparently—didn’t slow down at all. He tightened his hand when she tried to scream and pulled her flush against his chest. Something cold jammed against her neck, but for the life of her she couldn’t tell if it was a knife or a gun. She held her breath, so she wouldn’t move and find out. Her entire body had gone cold, like she’d stepped outside in December without her coat, and she realized it was best not to scream so she wouldn’t draw Aunt Prudie from her compartment. She glanced to the door of her aunt’s compartment, willing the woman to stay inside.
Please don’t let Aunt Prudie open the door. The plea repeated itself in her mind as he kept walking backward, pulling her along with him. The two men kept walking toward them very slowly. For all she knew they were bad men, too, but right now they were the only potential saviors she had.
Before she realized what had happened, Bennett twisted her around so that she was pressed flush against the door leading to the caboose. “Open the damn door.” He spoke the words rough, yet low, against her hair, and she heard the unmistakable click