The Marriage Mishap

“I see.” She thought she might actually explode at any second from the extreme heat boiling inside her.

“I’ll be finished here in—”

“Seven minutes, sir,” Bernard intoned.

“Seven minutes.” Adam gestured toward the tub. “Unless you’d like to go ahead and…”

Her skin tingled, and parts of her felt suddenly heavy. “No, no, I’ll wait.” She backed toward the door.

He took a step forward, clutching the towel. “I’ll have Bernard work out a morning schedule for us.”

“Fine.” Haley escaped into her own room. As she closed the door, she caught sight of Chrissy craning her neck.

“He’s quite the looker, if I can say so, ma’am.”

Haley frantically fanned herself with her palms. Why was it so hot in here? “Open a window, Chrissy.”

“I’m going over to your aunt’s house this afternoon to get the rest of your things.” Chrissy hoisted the window and gave Haley a look over her shoulder. “Edward is taking me.”

“Edward?”

“Mr. Harrington’s driver, the one who brought us over here last night.” She smiled. “We got to talking and all. He lives right here, got a place all to himself over the carriage house. Well, now, let’s get you ready. I know you don’t want to keep your new mister waiting.”

But he didn’t wait. Haley found Adam in the foyer, talking with Bernard, readying to leave.

“Have the gardener continue on the rose beds.”

Bernard nodded sedately as he assisted Adam into his jacket. “Yes, sir.”

“And notify the staff that all decisions concerning the house should be directed to Mrs. Harrington.” He nodded toward Haley as she joined them.

“Of course, sir.” Bernard cleared his throat quietly. “Today is the twelfth, sir.”

Adam tugged down on his starched cuffs. “Yes.”

“Tomorrow, sir? Master Kip?”

He nodded. “Of course. Take funds from the household account, Bernard, and get him something. Have it sent over.”

“Suggestions, sir?” He passed him his leather valise.

“Whatever you think is appropriate. How old is he now?”

“Thirteen, sir.”

Haley felt like an intruder eavesdropping on an old ritual. “Somebody’s birthday?” she ventured.

Adam and Bernard both looked at her, unaccustomed to the interruption in their routine.

“My brother, Kip. His birthday is tomorrow.”

Haley brightened. “Really? Is your family having a party for him?”

Adam paled slightly. “No.”

“Well then, let’s have a party for him here.” Haley warmed to the idea. “We’ll have your family—isn’t that what you want, Adam?—and…some friends. I’ll have the cook bake a large…”

Her words died when Bernard turned away, as if embarrassed for her, and Adam drew in a deep, steadying breath.

“We don’t celebrate Kip’s birthday,” he said quietly.

Haley clasped her hands together. “Why not?”

He eyed her sharply. “Because our mother died when he was born.” Adam pulled the pocket watch from his waistcoat. “Two minutes behind schedule,” he mumbled, and looked at Haley. “See that the parlor clock is repaired today. If you need anything, consult with Bernard. He is always apprised of my schedule.”

And with that, Adam left her standing in the foyer.

“Would madam care for breakfast?”

Bernard had a way of looking at her without seeming to actually see her. “Whatever Mr. Harrington had.”

“Including the spirits, madam? Mr. Harrington has a Bloody Mary with his breakfast.”

She frowned. “No.”

Bernard bowed slightly and silently left the foyer.

Haley exhaled heavily in the still, silent house. Sitting in Adam’s monstrous bathtub this morning, she’d mulled her situation over and, try as she might, Haley could think of no good reason to leave, and several good reasons to stay. For one, it would put the Farnsworth incident behind her, and for another, this marriage would appease her mother, and might even bring her back into favor.

Haley walked into the dining room. But, more than anything, marriage to Adam was just the excuse she needed to stay in Sacramento, which was what she’d wanted all along.

Seated alone at the dining room table, listening to the ticking of a clock somewhere in the house, Haley thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, Adam had kept his word.

She certainly hadn’t interfered a bit in his life, just as he’d promised.

Leather creaked beneath him as he eased into the chair across from his father’s massive desk, and smoke from his cigar coiled in front of him. Adam blew out a gray, hazy cloud. “Trouble this weekend?”

Martin Harrington reared back, puffing. “Damn vandals. I’d like to get my hands around their necks.”

“What happened?”

Martin sat forward and dragged his hands through his silvery hair. “Spilled paint, nail kegs overturned. Nuisance stuff again.”

Adam shrugged. “Probably just kids.”

“It better not be the trade unions. If I find out it is, they’ll sure as hell be sorry.” Martin clamped the cigar between his teeth. “How are the McKettrick plans coming?”

Adam blew out a heavy breath. “Fine.”