Unveiled. Part 3

"I didn't say that," Katie responded quickly. There was something in the way he looked at her, with a devilish kind of interest, that made her uneasy. "I have to admit, though, that I'm not used to men asking me to marry them after one dance. And in spite of the desperate nature of my predicament, I am not in such dire straits that I would agree to a proposal, though I appreciate your kindness."

"I suppose you're right." Christopher nodded, turning toward her. He didn't miss the emphasis on the word "kindness," and he had to stop himself from laughing with her. Instead he spoke in a grave tone. "I could get down on one knee-would that make it acceptable?"

Katie gasped when he did exactly that, then clasped her hand in his with an earnest expression on his face. Horrified, she glanced toward the window, trying to retrieve her hand while he held on to it tightly.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, her brogue deepening. "Do you want someone to see you?"

"I can't help it," he protested, gazing up at her with feigned devotion. "Ever since I met you tonight, I knew there could never be anyone else. Dare I say it? I think I'm in 1-"

"Get up!" Katie hauled him to his feet and s.n.a.t.c.hed back her hand. Margaret Chester peered out through the lace curtains and Katie smiled at her and waved, indicating the cool night air as the reason for their presence on the porch. Margaret nodded, then closed the curtains with a knowing expression.

"Now you've done it," Christopher said. "You've drawn the attention of the most notorious gossip in town. Now you'll have to marry me to avoid another scandal. When would you like to set the date-I've always liked winter weddings, don't you?"

Katie stared at him, aghast. "I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth! Now, if you will get out of my way, I would like to rejoin the party."

"Then you leave me no choice, Miss Pemberton." Katie tried to pull past him, but he caught her hand once more and held her firmly. "I will have to give in and court you. I really thought that since we were two responsible, mature adults, we could skip such formalities, but I see that such is not the case. I am disappointed, however. I thought here is finally a woman who's not afraid to break tradition, who knows her own mind and goes after what she wants. Now I'll have to convince you in the old-fas.h.i.+oned way. I suppose it would stop the gossips."

"I think you've lost your mind," Katie said in wonder. "Were you always such a gentleman? Or did it come by degrees?"

He laughed then, throwing back his head and chuckling with such masculine mirth that had she been in another frame of mind, Katie would have laughed with him. "Miss Pemberton, I a.s.sure you I am one hundred percent sane. I will call on you tomorrow and bring you-what is it that's acceptable? Candy or flowers, I believe?"

"You can go straight to the devil." Katie's eyes flashed and she pulled hard, trying to break away from him. This time he let her, and as she stormed into the house he grinned, watching the swish of her skirts and the gleam of her glossy hair.

She was everything he'd hoped she'd be and more. Fan Pemberton promised intelligence, pa.s.sion, a sense of humor, and a bit of mystery. He frowned as he recalled her accent, growing deeper when she got angry. And "go to the devil"? That was hardly a phrase a wealthy lady would use. For all her appearance of propriety, Fan Pemberton was ten times more interesting than her prim and proper counterparts. She was a treasure of contradictions, one that promised to endlessly baffle him, frustrate him, and tease him.

Her violent objection to his proposal didn't daunt him in the least. If anything, he was more determined than ever to win her. Marriage to Fan Pemberton was the perfect solution.

To both their problems.

"Are you bathing today, dear?" Ella Pemberton said when Katie descended the stairs, clad in a candy-striped bathing costume and robe. Ella, seated in the parlor playing solitaire, gave Katie a fond smile.

Pulling the wrapper more closely around her, Katie grinned mischievously. "This is a lot cooler than the petticoats. I think I'll find an excuse to go bathing every day."

"Humph." Eileen plunked down the tea tray with disapproval, making more noise than the action merited. Ella glanced at her from her cards, one eyebrow raised. "Looks scandalous to me," the maid remarked.

"Nonsense," Ella said firmly. "It's what all the other young ladies are wearing, and Fan needs to be up on the latest styles. Who are you going with?"

"Margaret Chester, Mary and Nellie Mitch.e.l.l. They are sending their carriage around for me."

"That's so nice," Ella said, ignoring Eileen's scowls. "They are sweet young ladies and can help you meet a lot of other friends, though it doesn't appear you'll need their a.s.sistance. Another bouquet arrived for you this morning."

Katie grimaced as she glanced toward the array of flowers and dozens of boxes of candy that graced the parlor table. "Mr. Scott?"

Eileen nodded, showing her the latest offering, a pretty bundle of daisies. "That man must be addled, sending you all these things. If he only knew-"

"I think it's kind," Ella said with a twinkle. "He is very handsome, you know, and charming."

"So are snakes," Katie said, wrinkling her nose. "He is obnoxious, overbearing, has the manners of a tomcat..."

"Really?" Ella smiled pleasantly. "I thought him rather nice. And he is certainly taken with you, miss. He's sent something every day. Either you'll have to marry that man or open a flower shop."

Katie shrugged, but couldn't resist a glance at the flowers. They were lovely, and she had to admire his determination. In spite of the extremely negative impression he'd made on her that night at the Drexels' party, he was certainly going out of his way to redeem himself. But then she remembered him laughingly saying he'd go through with a courts.h.i.+p, as if the ending were already certain. What a conceited and arrogant man!

"And he's from one of the wealthiest families on the Main Line." Ella yawned, as if the matter didn't concern her one way or the other. "They are definitely gentry."

"And, like most gentry, know the difference between a Thoroughbred and a hack horse," Eileen said pointedly.

"You talk such nonsense these days, Eileen," Ella said sharply. "One would think you're addled instead of me. Have a good time, child." She smiled as the carriage rolled up.

Katie was glad to escape. Christopher Scott was not a subject she cared to discuss. Now or ever.

The coach looked like a flower cart, crammed with girls of varied ages and sizes, all of them garbed in the daring new bathing costumes that were similar to Katie's. Katie joined them, carrying with her some towels and a brush. After tossing them into the center of the floor, she sat beside Bertrice Merriweather. She and Bertrice had quickly become good friends in the past few weeks. With her appealing blond looks and large blue eyes, Bertrice had her own share of admirers, and she appreciated Katie's wit and good humor. Katie found Bertrice sweet and unfailingly kind.

The Misses Mitch.e.l.l were another story. Jealous of Katie's attention from Christopher, they deliberately shunned her until Bertrice persuaded them otherwise. Now they tolerated her, but were far from friendly, while Margaret was downright vicious.

Having spread the rumor about the scandal, Margaret made sure everyone knew about Katie's indiscretion with Christopher on the porch. Irrationally insecure, Margaret was only happy when she was the center of attention, no matter how that was accomplished. Since Fan was under the protection of the Misses Chandler, she had to be careful, but Margaret was used to such complications. Always appearing kind, she nevertheless knew how to cause a great deal of trouble and usually did.

It was Margaret who commented first on Katie's costume. "I'm so glad you got something appropriate to wear," she said sweetly, though her voice was filled with venom. "That outfit you had last week was positively ancient."

Katie smiled, though she had to fight her Irish instincts and not punch the girl. "Much of my clothing was not appropriate for this climate. I was out west, you know-there wasn't much reason for a bathing costume among the cows."

The other girls broke into laughter and began teasing Margaret. "Did you think she'd be swimming in some water hole?"

"There isn't exactly an ocean out in the desert!"

"Margaret missed geography-she was too busy making eyes at Willie Todd!"

All of the girls dissolved into laughter again, but Katie didn't miss the flash of anger in Margaret's eyes, which was directed at her. Katie gave her a huge smile, which only infuriated the girl more. Thankfully the coach pulled up to the beach and the girls piled out, then raced to the water.

The surf was a brilliant blue green, the water so clear that one could easily see the sand. There had been a storm the previous night, and the beach was lined with seash.e.l.ls of every imaginable shape and hue. Seaweed floated through the water like a mermaid's tresses, waving gently with the ebb and flow of the sea, while starfish glided through the surf like fallen angels. It was beautiful, restless, and exhilarating. It was also freezing.

The girls laughingly ran into the waves, then shrieked as the cold water plastered their swimming costumes to their bodies. Nellie Mitch.e.l.l scooped up a handful of water and doused Katie, who quickly returned the favor. A water fight broke out until all of them were soaked, then they fled to the beach to towel themselves dry.

A gull cried overhead and sandpipers ran toward the waves, their little feet scampering comically. Katie sat on her towel as the other girls joined her, talking quietly or dozing in the warm sun. She couldn't stop the tightness in her throat as she envisioned her six-year-old son, running through the waves, laughing and playing in the ocean. G.o.d, he would love this. She missed him so much, and even knowing he was well cared for didn't stop the ache in her heart as she realized that he'd never know this life, never know anything but pain and hard work. Why was it that some people had so much and others so little?

She remembered asking her father when she was little and had seen a fancy carriage pa.s.sing by, filled with beautiful ladies in silk dresses. Seamus O'Connor grew quiet then, staring at his little daughter dressed in frayed cotton, her feet bare, knowing she would never have such a dress. He got roaring drunk that night and sang "I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen" outside the mayor's house. Katie always knew that the two events were connected, but it was something they never talked about.

May you be at peace, Pa, she thought. A tear started in her eyes and stung the back of her throat as she envisioned the run-down area of Philadelphia, the lines of laundry stretching from one dingy row house to another, the broken piles of wood from dilapidated buildings that filled the alleys and provided homes to dozens of rats, the tin washtubs that hung on the outside of the walls, waiting for a weekly bath.

There was one lamp on the street one light that drew people like moths to a flame and illuminated the gloomy alleyway. When the first star appeared, she would sit there with her child, hearing the cacophony of voices, the pa.s.sionate Italian marketers hawking their wares, the pugnacious Irish who were always ready for a joke or a brawl, the guttural German accents that as the night progressed, grew softer with beer. It was their one escape from an existence that offered no others.

Ryan O'Connor, her brother, couldn't take it anymore and disappeared out west in search of gold. Moira, her aunt, worked in the kitchens of the wealthy. At night, she would drink raucously and dress up in her one good gown and insist she was Lillie Langtry. Her mother took in laundry, struggling to see in the dim light. She was old well before her time, and Katie saw herself in Catherine's webbed face and lifeless eyes....

And Katie hated it. When John Sweeney approached her, with his c.o.c.ksure charm and handsome face, she couldn't have resisted him any more than she could have resisted a twenty-dollar gold piece lying in the street. He had plans, plans that would take them away from all this. The das.h.i.+ng Irishman with the devil's own wit made her believe. She knew it was wrong, but when he touched her hair, her face and lips, she no longer cared.

This time she couldn't hide the sniffle that choked her. It had all been lies. G.o.d, she had been such a fool. He had left her, in spite of his words, in spite of everything that had pa.s.sed between them. He had used her, then discarded her like an old rag. Even when he learned of his child, he hadn't come back, hadn't tried to help her, hadn't even come to see his own son. Ah, but she learned, even if it was the hard way. She didn't have anything else to do with men, and they didn't have anything to do with her. She was Irish, poor, had a child, and was alone. She could expect nothing else.

Until now. Somehow fate had thrown gold in her direction, and for as long as it lasted, she, Katie O'Connor, was Frances Pemberton. She sensed something good would come of this, that she would find a way to help her family, and hope for her son. Perhaps she really wasn't such a bad person...maybe G.o.d had forgiven her after all.

A noise broke her thoughts and she glanced up, quickly wiping a tear. Several young men were approaching, dressed in hunting pants and carrying rifles. It was common sport among the gentry to shoot at the little sand snipes, and it seemed that the gentlemen had been occupied doing that when they stumbled along this beach.

"Oh my." Nellie smoothed her hair and reddened, reaching quickly for her robe. "It's Christopher Scott, Charles Pepper...and I think one of the Forrester boys. Oh, and there's Peter Tyler."

"It's scandalous for them to see us like this," her sister chimed in, s.n.a.t.c.hing up her own robe. "My Lord, when Mother hears of this..."

"Well, she won't unless you tell her," Margaret responded. "I certainly don't plan to tell mine. Why, Bertie, I think you're blus.h.i.+ng. Don't worry, I think Charles would be delighted to see you in your costume. Yoo-hoo!"

Margaret waved broadly, attracting the men's attention. They approached the girls, chuckling as Bertrice dived beneath the umbrella and Margaret stood up, displaying her costume to its best advantage. Katie stayed where she was, picking up a dime novel and pretending to be engrossed in the story. A shadow fell across her page and she was forced to look up, observing Christopher's wicked smile.

"I'm charmed, Miss Pemberton. I had no idea you'd be here today."

Katie closed the book. "Most gentlemen avoid this beach in the morning," she said, emphasizing the word "gentlemen." "They know we come to bathe."

"My apologies. We had no idea. Although I can't really say I'm sorry." Christopher gave her a look that seemed to sear right through the thin costume she wore and she had to fight to keep from crossing her arms over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Mr. Scott," she whispered so she wouldn't attract the others' attention, "you have got to be the rudest, most insulting man I have ever met."

"I know." He seemed saddened by her appraisal, but she didn't miss the laughter in his eyes. "So are you saying you've agreed to marry me?"

Katie gasped. "I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth."

"I see." He smiled back, not in the least insulted. "What would it take, then? Aren't I rich enough, handsome enough? I've already proven my charm."

"And humility," Katie agreed.

"Then perhaps I just haven't presented myself well. I am Christopher Scott, of the Philadelphia Scotts. I live on Walnut Street in the family estate. I play a good game of poker, terrible billiards, and mediocre chess, unless there is money involved."

"That's very n.o.ble of you."

"My friends call me Chris."

"Of which you have many, I'm sure." Katie opened her book and resumed reading. "Please feel free to go on, Mr. Scott. I find this horribly fascinating."

"Do you believe her?" he asked Bertrice, who was still hiding from Charles beneath the umbrella. "I daresay I get more sympathy from a pit bull."

"Mr. Scott." Margaret flounced up beside him. "It is so hot out here, and I was just saying to Mr. Pepper how nice a walk would be. Would you care to accompany us?"

Christopher hesitated for a moment, just long enough for Katie to peer up from her book and give Margaret a scathing glance. Chuckling quietly, he rose from one knee and brushed the sand from his trousers.

"No, I think not. Thank you, anyway. There's a brace of snipes a few miles down. I think I'll engage in some real sport this afternoon, one where I stand half a chance."

Katie merely nodded when he made his farewells while Margaret joined Charles and started down the beach. Bertrice emerged a moment later, obviously upset.

"I can't believe he just went off with her like that."

"Don't worry, Margaret is just like that," Nellie said rea.s.suringly. "I know Charles likes you. He was looking at you the whole time."

"Do you think so?" Bertrice asked anxiously.

Katie agreed. "I think he only left with Margaret because he didn't think you were interested. You have to stop hiding from him. You're giving him the wrong idea."

"That Mr. Scott sure seems intent upon you," Bertrice said happily. "Why, no matter what you said to him, he kept coming back for more. I've never seen a man more taken with a girl."

Nellie and Mary exchanged a look, but Katie simply shrugged.

"He just wants what he can't have, just like most men. I should tell him yes and really upset him." She s.h.i.+vered, though the idea wasn't as distasteful as it should have been. Christopher Scott was beginning to get on her nerves. And he was a distraction she couldn't afford.

Margaret returned much more quickly than anyone would have antic.i.p.ated, Katie thought in satisfaction. The lunch was eaten, and the girls stretched out on their blankets for an afternoon nap. Within moments they were all asleep. Katie was unable to find that refuge for herself, even with the help of the book. Used to a vigorous life, she found the leisure of the wealthy excessive and could seldom find the need for a daytime nap.

Getting to her feet, she decided to walk along the surf, enjoying the weather and the water. Kicking the waves, she was oblivious to everything until she reached a small inlet several hundred feet away. A motion in the water caught her attention and she gasped, realizing she wasn't alone.

A man was in the ocean.

Katie watched in shocked fascination as he stood in the waves like an Adonis. His body was partially hidden by the water, but even from the distance she could tell that he wore little or nothing. When the surf seemed just right, he turned and dived into the water, allowing the waves to carry him to sh.o.r.e.

Katie reluctantly admired his form. He was a good swimmer, obviously used to this life and having ample time to polish his skill. As he rose she saw that he was in excellent shape, his body lean and muscular, moving with a deceptive grace. Wading into the ocean again, he swam out to the deeper part, his body slicing through the waves like a half-human, half-sea creature.

She didn't know when she recognized him, but within moments, knew it was him. Vexed that he swam as well as he danced or probably anything else, she nevertheless couldn't take her eyes from him as he moved expertly through the water.

A dark pile of something on the beach caught her attention, and when he had his back to her, she crept closer and saw that it was his clothes. The temptation was overwhelming. A mischievous impulse possessed her and she s.n.a.t.c.hed them up, tossing them behind a sand dune. She managed to get back to the beach, where her friends were slowly awakening, and she strolled forward, whistling in pure innocence.

"Fan! I was worried about you," Bertrice said, obviously relieved. "I awoke a few minutes ago and you were nowhere in sight."

"I was walking," Katie said, managing to hide her laughter. "In fact, you all must come. I thought I saw a dolphin."

"A dolphin!" Even the Misses Mitch.e.l.l were excited, and for once Margaret had no sarcastic comments. s.n.a.t.c.hing up their robes, the girls then donned them and ran down to the water's edge to admire the creature.

Katie hid her laughter as Christopher looked up, obviously startled by his unexpected company. He glanced quickly to the sh.o.r.e and saw that his clothes had disappeared. Hearing feminine giggles, he could do nothing but stand waist-deep in the water while the girls t.i.ttered in embarra.s.sment.

"Why, it's Mr. Scott!" Katie cried out innocently. "I didn't recognize you without your cravat."

The girls hid their faces and laughed while her eyes boldly met his. A slow smile came to his face as he quickly envisioned what had happened, and who was behind it. Sketching a bow that was not as graceful as it might have been under other circ.u.mstances, he braced his hands on his hips and gave them a bright smile, determined to make the best of the situation.

"Good afternoon, ladies. I would invite you in, but I think G.o.dey's would frown on that, don't you?"

Bertrice nearly fainted with embarra.s.sment while the Misses Mitch.e.l.l dissolved into laughter. Katie grinned, then waved her hand.

"Why don't you join us, then? We don't mind the company." She gave him a smile as brilliant as his own, her face a study in innocence.

"Why, I think I will." He started to walk toward the sh.o.r.e, then stopped when Bertrice began fanning herself as if she really would faint. "I'm just joking, ladies, though it may come to pa.s.s if I have to stay here much longer. I'll be wrinkled through to the knees."

The girls laughed, then, red-faced, ran toward the beach where the picnic awaited. "Miss Pemberton!" Christopher called. There was something in his voice that made Katie stop and she turned, looking at him with such a droll expression that he had to laugh himself. "Where are my clothes?"

"I don't have the faintest idea," Katie said, widening her eyes. "And I have to join my friends-"

"Get them," he said sternly. "Or I will come out now. And that will make two scandals for Fan Pemberton."

Katie sighed, then retrieved his clothes and tossed them on the beach. Running away without looking back, she heard his laughter behind her, but she didn't care in the least. She'd won this round, and it was worth every risk to see the confident Mr. Scott become uneasy, even for a moment.