Rescuing the Heiress. Valerie HansenЧитать онлайн книгу.
walked to the horse and began stroking its sleek neck with her gloved hand. “Actually, she was one of my father’s but I asked for her for myself. He finally gave her to me on my sixteenth birthday.”
“Nice gift,” Michael said, thinking about how little he was able to afford to give his mother no matter how much he wanted to please and honor her. In contrast, the gift of such a magnificent horse only served to point up the difference between his and Tess’s lives.
“I can have one of the stable boys drive you home, if you’d like,” Tess offered.
Michael shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I’m used to walking.”
“And it’s almost all downhill from here.”
Boy, is that the truth, he thought, biting his tongue to keep from speaking his mind. It would be downhill for him for sure if he did what his heart and mind kept suggesting. The mere idea of pulling Tess Clark into his arms and kissing her rosy cheek the way he wanted to was enough to make him blush as well as tie his gut in a knot.
It was also a clear warning. There were few things he could do that would be worse than acting the swain. As a matter of fact, right then he couldn’t think of anything that would be more foolish. Or more appealing.
He touched the brim of his cap politely and backed farther away. “I’ll be saying good night, then.”
“Good night,” Tess replied.
Michael knew he had to be imagining the tenderness in her tone and the personal interest in her charming gaze. If there was something unusual there it had to be that she was toying with him, pretending to care to lead him on so she could have a good laugh at his expense.
Well, that was never going to happen. He might be a tad smitten if he were totally honest with himself, but that feeling would pass. Tess would never know her flirting had affected him at all, let alone given him thoughts of courting. He was too smart to yield to such impossible yearnings. Too smart and too determined to triumph on his own. He didn’t need anyone’s influence or money to succeed. He was well on his way to becoming a captain. Nothing else was as important as that.
Not even love?
His jaw clenched. The clomp of his boots echoed hollowly on the sidewalk as he began to trot down the hill toward home, back to the reality that was his daily life. There was no way that he might care that much for Tess, nor she for him. Love was an overrated emotion, anyway. His mother had always insisted that his father had loved her, yet Michael had never seen him demonstrate anything but disrespect—when he was sober. When he was drunk, which was most of the time, he was just plain cruel.
That was another reason why Michael wanted to succeed. It was his fondest wish to provide well for his mother in her old age. She had worked tirelessly to raise him, practically alone, and she had earned a rest. Soon he’d be able to give it to her. Soon he’d get the promotion he’d been working so hard for.
He slowed his pace and began to whistle a tune. His life hadn’t been easy but he’d come a long way since his upbringing as one of the immigrant children who were disparagingly called wharf rats. Someday, Lord willing, he’d be able to put that all behind him and never look back.
Chapter Five
Tess was barely inside the cavernous foyer of the family mansion and was standing in front of the mirrored hall tree removing her hat when she heard a familiar, attention-getting cough.
Annie immediately hiked her skirts and fled up the side stairs toward her own quarters.
Tess whirled to face the source of the cough. “Good evening, Father. How are you?”
“I might ask you the same thing,” Gerald Clark said. He hooked one thumb in his vest pocket, took a puff of the fat cigar in his other hand and blew out a smoke ring as he eyed his daughter from head to toe.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Tess replied. She would gladly have retreated to her room if her father had not placed himself directly in her path. To her chagrin, he was taking note of her meager disguise.
“Have you no decent wrap? I thought you had a much more suitable coat than that old one.”
“It was mother’s,” Tess said.
“I’m well aware of that.” His eyes narrowed in a scowl while he took in the familiar hat with its special, jet pin as part of the decoration. “Are you mocking me?”
Tess’s heart melted and she put aside her personal concerns in order to comfort him. “Oh, Father, it’s nothing like that. Honestly.” She stepped close enough to briefly pat his free hand. “We—Annie and I—just wanted something dark and unremarkable to wear into the city. I never intended for you to see us dressed like this. I would never do anything to hurt you. Surely, you know that.”
“I had thought so, until now,” Gerald answered. “Would you care to tell me why you chose to go out so late in the evening?”
There was nothing Tess could honorably do but answer truthfully. She busied herself removing her gloves so she wouldn’t have to keep staring into his face, wouldn’t see his disappointment when she confessed.
“It was all my idea. I wanted to hear Maud Younger speak at Mechanics’ Pavilion and Annie was good enough to accompany me.” She looked up in time to see a flush of color start rising in the older man’s face.
“So I have been given to understand.”
“Then you know I’m telling you the truth.”
“Yes. I find your actions quite disappointing. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything wrong or unseemly. The crowd was very large and I’m sure my presence went unnoticed, at least for the most part.”
“You will not go again,” her father said flatly.
That was his normal manner of making his wishes known, yet this time it rankled Tess more than usual. “I cannot promise that,” she replied, feeling a surge of power accompanied by an equal amount of foreboding.
“What?”
If Tess had thought his face flushed before, it was pale compared to the way it looked now. She could almost imagine jets of steam escaping from his ears. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Father, but there is nothing bad about my attending meetings composed of genteel women, and I shall do so again if I choose.”
“Bah.” He bit down on the end of the cigar and kept it clamped between his teeth as he glared at her.
There had been many instances in the past when Tess had cowered under her father’s powerfully intent stare. Not this time. Although she hadn’t stayed for Miss Younger’s entire lecture she had been impressed by the atmosphere of freedom within the hall. That and the suffragette pamphlets she had read and reread so many times that they were almost falling apart had given her inner strength.
Tess straightened her spine, nodded and took a few steps, sidling past her father to start up the spiral staircase. “I respect and admire you, Papa,” she paused to say. “Please try to afford me the same.”
She didn’t look back and heard no comment in her wake. By the time she reached the sanctuary of her private suite and closed the outer door behind her, she was trembling at the thought of what she had just said and done. Still, she had succeeded. She had politely stood up to her father and he had not screamed or cursed at her the way he sometimes did the servants. As far as she was concerned, that had been a big, big step toward her eventual emancipation.
Sighing, Tess leaned her back against the door. Praise God. Not only had she managed to temper her father’s expected wrath, she had done so without having to mention Michael Mahoney’s participation in the evening’s escapade. For that, she was most thankful of all.
Given the way her heart leaped at the mere thought of that attractive man, she was afraid her father—and anyone else who