The Scoundrel

“I tidied up this morning, on account of the occasion,” he’d told her. “I reckon you won’t have a thing to do while I’m gone but unpack all your dresses and whatnot.”

He nodded at the belongings she’d had carried over earlier. With one sweep of his beefy arm, he indicated the appropriate chamber down the hall. It had been Eli’s room, Daniel explained further, until he’d moved the boy’s things.

“You and I aren’t to share a bedroom?”

A frown. “Didn’t seem quite right to me. Seeing as how we’re only married on account of Eli.”

“Oh. That’s true. That’s fine, then. An excellent idea,” Sarah bluffed, not wanting him to know the notion bothered her. As near as she could tell, sharing a room was one of the cozier aspects of being married. She had—she was embarrassed to admit—looked forward to it. Dismayed, she peered down the hall. “But if I am in that room, where will Eli sleep?”

Clearly, Daniel hadn’t thought of that. “I guess we’ll likely take turns with my bed. Yep. That solves it.”

Then he’d set his hat at a rakish angle, given her an unreadable look and stridden from the house as if his heels were on fire.

Sarah didn’t understand it. Now, picking her way among the bits and pieces of his bachelor’s household, she realized that while she had spent the past several days in frantic preparations, Daniel had…not. In fact, he didn’t appear to have considered her arrival at all. Their marriage—a monumental event in Sarah’s life—didn’t mean anything to him beyond a means of solving his troubles with Eli.

She knew she should have expected as much. She’d gone into this arrangement with her eyes open, after all. Daniel hadn’t tried to deceive her. But somehow, a part of her had still hoped things would be different.

“Why, Sarah!” Daniel was supposed to have exclaimed upon seeing her today. “You’re beautiful! I don’t know how I haven’t noticed till now.”

She’d have blushed prettily, glowing with his praise.

“In fact, now that I think on it, I’ve been in love with you all along!” he’d have continued. “How could I not be? You’re an ideal match for me. So lovely, so kind, so clever.”

It would have been immodest to agree. She’d merely have smiled, linking her arm with his in a way that bespoke gentle, long-standing affection. He’d have chivalrously offered her a flower. A rare blossom, perhaps, like the ones from her mama’s greenhouse. She’d blink back sentimental tears, planning to press the flower and cherish it always, and—

A clatter in the kitchen shattered her reverie. Jolted into alertness, Sarah glanced to the cast-iron cookstove. A tabby cat streaked from amid the handmade pots and pans scattered atop it, giving her a baleful glare as it slipped beneath a chair.

“Hello, there.” Surprised, she stepped nearer. “I didn’t know you lived here, too.”

Frankly, Daniel had never seemed the sort to nurture a pet. Especially given how much of his time was devoted, of necessity, to blacksmithing. Perhaps the cat was Eli’s.

She crouched, her skirts whispering, then extended her hand. “Come here, little kitty. I won’t hurt you.”

The tabby regarded her suspiciously, whiskers twitching.

“Are you hungry? I am. I didn’t have a bite to eat at the wedding party.” She’d been too busy trying to catch the eye of her new husband for anything so mundane as food.

Straightening, she surveyed the kitchen. Her new kitchen. It looked as if a pack of donkeys had been here last, attempting to rustle up a noontime meal with two hooves tied behind their backs. Open cans of tinned fruit littered the tabletop, along with crumbs, pieces of twine and paraffin-coated baker’s wrap—the latter, more than likely, from Molly’s bakeshop. Most unmarried men in Morrow Creek bought their baked goods from her sister.

To the left, scrubbed plates and bowls sat higgledy-piggledy on the worktable, beside a bag of green coffee beans and a grinder. Near the unused cookstove stood a barrel of pickles—popular with the men of the household, judging by the blobby green trail of pickle juice on the floor nearby. Another barrel held oats, and a third, dried beans.

At least Daniel possessed some foodstuffs. He also had on hand at least a month’s worth of the Pioneer Press newspaper—her father’s broadsheet—and some cornmeal. The gritty stuff coated every horizontal surface in a fine dusting, as though a bag of it had exploded in here. Knowing Daniel and Eli, it probably had. There were tracks in the yellow meal here and there, as though someone had palmed up a handful to cook with and left the rest where it lay.

Ugh. Wrinkling her nose, Sarah left the mess for now. Her bridegroom may have absconded, but she refused to spend her wedding night tidying up.

Minutes later, she’d prepared a simple meal of bread and cheese. Between bites—some of which she fed to the cat as she carried it in her arms—she wandered through the rest of the house. The front room held hardy furniture, doubtless handmade. Clothes lumped on the chair seats and served as draft-catchers in the corners; Eli’s puzzles and toys had set up camp on the round braided rug. A cadre of blacksmith’s tools occupied a prominent spot near the fireplace, apparently keeping company with the supply of cut and stacked firewood.

Although Sarah had come calling on Daniel and Eli many times, today their home held new interest. This time, it was partly hers, to do with what she pleased. In her mind’s eye, she saw the windows stripped of their dreary, dust-clogged curtains and brightened with ruffle-trimmed adornments instead. She saw the chairs embellished with embroidered pillows and the floor scrubbed clean. Perhaps a new rug, as well.

“It’s so homey!” Daniel would say when he saw it, reaching impulsively for her hand. His expression would shine with amazement. “You are a marvel, Sarah. No wonder I find myself more in love with you every day. I don’t know how I ever lived without you.”

Satisfied at the thought, Sarah smiled. Daniel truly did not know how lucky he was. She was going to have a marvelous time putting everything in order—including her new husband. She could hardly wait to start putting her own special stamp on their shared household.

But first… Feeling her heart skip a beat in anticipation, she sauntered to the other end of the house. The tabby purred in her arms, content with their makeshift meal. It seemed Sarah had made at least one friend here. That was good. She entered the hallway, her footsteps loud on the floorboards, and approached the private chambers there.

She stuck her head inside the first, an austere room with bare walls, a small bed and a row of pegs on the wall. One of her trunks sat beneath the single window. Another waited just inside the door. Clearly, this room was meant to be hers.

Frowning, she crossed the hall. Daniel’s door stood slightly ajar, inviting her to investigate the room within. She’d never entered it before, of course. It wouldn’t have been proper, even for two friends as close as she and Daniel had always been. But now…now they were wed. She was well within her rights to explore the entire house.

“I expect he’ll want me in this room when it’s time to clean it,” she reasoned to the cat, giving it a gentle pat. “Let’s have a look.”

Inside, she found a brass bed covered with a patchwork quilt, a bureau with a washbasin atop it, several pegs hung with rough-hewn men’s clothing and a braided rag rug. A sheet of muslin tacked over the window provided privacy; a lantern held the promise of light. It wasn’t fancy, but it offered myriad possibilities…exactly like Daniel.

Arranged on the bed, a length of fabric caught her eye. Edging closer, Sarah lifted it. She gasped in surprise. ’Twas a fine lawn nightgown, trimmed in lace and finished with a deep ruffle at the hem. It was easily the most beautiful gown she’d ever seen—and the most seductive. In this, a woman would be nigh irresistible.

She would be nigh irresistible.

In that moment, Sarah realized the truth. She’d been mistaken about Daniel’s carousing! That rascal. He’d left her, certainly—but only long enough for her to find the romantic gown he’d gifted her with…and for her to prepare for their wedding night. He was a simple man, she knew, given more to action than words. Leaving this gown for her was exactly the sort of thing he’d do.

Well. This made her new husband’s intentions plain, didn’t it? Daniel wanted their marriage to be more real than he’d first implied. This nightgown was proof enough of that. Doubtless, he couldn’t wait to see her in it. Perhaps he was even waiting round the bend, eagerly anticipating her unveiling.

Excitedly, Sarah clutched the gown to her heart. When her new husband came home, there was one thing for certain. She’d be ready for him!

Chapter Five

T he next morning, Daniel awakened with a curious sense of impending disaster. He couldn’t reckon why at first. His head ached, but that was to be expected after a night at Murphy’s. His mouth felt parched, but that would be easily remedied with a drink from his bedside pitcher. His bed felt lumpy, but that was because his mattress was occupied on the other side.

Occupied?

“Eli.” Realizing what must be afoot, he cleared the hoarseness from his voice and tried again. “Go back to your own bed. Whatever bogeyman you’re scared of is gone now.”

“It’s not Eli. It’s me.”

The mattress sagged. Sarah rolled over, a smile on her face. She got herself comfortable with both hands flattened on the pillow beneath her cheek, then regarded him steadily.

Daniel started in surprise, his heart pounding. He clutched the bed linens and stared back at her. His first thought was, she looks angelic. Which was daft. Then, less groggily, what the hell is she doing here? Which was better. He didn’t remember having gotten in bed with her last night, but that didn’t mean… Could he have sunk so low as to seduce Sarah?

A flood of feelings washed over him, led by remorse and tailed by…damnation, it felt almost like curiosity. What was the matter with him? Of a certain, he was a scoundrel. He freely admitted to that. But to have taken advantage of an innocent like Sarah? His friend?

With a mighty effort, Daniel managed to relax his grasp on the sheets. No matter how odd this was, he could not leap from the bed straightaway. That would only hurt Sarah’s feelings. Clearly, she felt at home with…whatever had happened between them.

Hoping to figure things out, he risked a wary second glance at her. Yep. She gazed back at him as steadily and as trustfully as she ever had. Just as she had yesterday, when they’d…exchanged vows.

All at once, Daniel’s wedding rushed back to him, complete with Eli’s shenanigans, Sarah’s prettiness and that disturbing thing she’d said after he’d carried her inside the house.

Now I believe we’re married.

Hell. They’d really done it. This was what it was like to find himself hitched. Carefully, Daniel considered things. It turned out he felt more married upon finding a bride in his bed than he had upon acting as a pack mule yesterday. He guessed that was just one way he and Sarah were different. Probably the only way. Aside from the obvious.