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The Unexpected Bride (The Unexpected Sinclares Book 1) Page 4
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Then she heard the doctor and Mr. Tanner approaching. They hadn’t spent very long with the patients. Which added to her suspicion that the physician had come more out of curiosity about Mr. Tanner’s new employee than to check on the children.
“No, don’t bother to see me out,” the doctor was saying. “You’ve got your hands full, and I know my way.” He pushed open the screen door just as Elthia rose to her feet.
“How are they?” she asked, dusting her skirts.
“Fine, fine. In fact, there’s no reason you can’t let them outside for a bit tomorrow. Don’t let them overdo, of course, but sunshine and fresh air will likely do them a world of good.”
The doctor, short and rotund, put her in mind of a roly-poly clown doll she’d had as a child. Smiling at the whimsical comparison, she stepped aside for him to pass. “I’m sure the children will be glad to get out of the house again.”
Dr. Adams inclined his head. “Yes, well, I’d better be getting on now. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sinclare. Not the best of introductions to your new family, but at least you can hope it’ll go well from here.”
Before Elthia could comment, he moved down the steps. “If you’ll excuse me, it’s time I got home to my supper.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he looked back over his shoulder at her. “The wife is impatiently waiting for word on what Caleb’s ‘back East’ lady looks like and what sort of clothes she wears.”
Elthia returned his smile, unable to take offense at his honest admission. Then, as she watched him climb into his buggy and turn his horse toward the road, something about his words added to her earlier sense that something was not quite as it seemed here. Yes, it was definitely time to have that talk with Mr. Tanner.
Rubbing her arms against a sudden frisson of chill, she turned back to see Zoe standing in the doorway.
“Uncle Caleb wants to know if you’d like to eat supper now.”
“Why thank you. I’d—” Elthia halted as the girl’s words sank in. “Uncle Caleb? I thought he was your father.”
Zoe’s face closed in a stony mask. “Uncle Caleb’s not my father. I’m an orphan. We all are.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I—” Elthia was searching for words to comfort the child when the significance of what she’d said hit her. “All of you are orphans? You mean all six of you?”
Zoe nodded curtly. “Of course. Didn’t you already know? It’s why he sent for you.”
Elthia’s uneasiness grew more pronounced. What was going on? Was Mr. Tanner mad to have taken on such a responsibility with a sick wife to tend to? Or was this what had driven Mrs. Tanner to her sickbed? No wonder he’d been in such a hurry to secure help.
But why had he lied about the number of children and about his relationship to them? The Tanners didn’t need someone to teach the children and provide polish. They needed a nursemaid, a mother hen to keep track of the numerous baby chicks. That being the case, they should have been able to find someone closer to home. Which made the fact that they’d searched so far afield suspicious. Already she was imagining all sorts of wild scenarios…
Elthia became aware that Zoe was studying her as one would an irritatingly dense child.
“Miss Sinclare,” the child said with exaggerated patience, “didn’t you know Uncle Caleb only went looking for a wife because he got saddled with us and needs some help? He thinks you’re going to be our mother.”
CHAPTER 3
“Mr. Tanner, we need to talk.”
The lying, scheming blackguard glanced back from his position at the stove, a scowl of irritation on his face. Then his expression changed as something in her demeanor caught his attention.
“What’s happened?” he asked, handing a plate to one of the children.
Zoe slipped into the room behind her, but Elthia kept her gaze focused on Mr. Tanner. She stood stiffly, fighting the urge to back away as he approached. “Exactly why did you bring me here?”
His scowl returned as he rubbed the back of his neck. “What do you mean? This is my home. Where else would I take you?”
“I’m talking about what role is it that you expect me to fulfill?” She watched him closely, looking for some sign of guilt or duplicity. “Mrs. Johnston called me your helpmeet and referred to you Tanners as my new family. Just now, Dr. Adams did the same.”
Elthia clasped her hands to prevent their trembling. Had this man lured her to his home under false pretenses? She was completely at his mercy here. The isolated location and the shadowy approach of dusk suddenly took on a sinister feel. Sometimes having a vivid imagination was more of a curse than a blessing.
She had to remain calm, to think, to keep him from seeing her fear.
Mr. Tanner, however, looked more harried than threatening. Maybe Zoe had misread the situation. Dear God, please—
“I’m sorry that your role as a mail-order bride is public knowledge, if that’s what this is all about. It’s hard to keep secrets in a community like Foxberry.”
“Mail-order bride!” Elthia almost choked on the words. Heaven help her, this nightmare kept getting more unbelievable.
His scowl returned. “Miss Sinclare, stop the hysterics, please. I know the kids’ illness was unexpected, but surely—”
“There’s been a mistake, a dreadful, terrible mistake.”
His eyes narrowed. Then he looked at the children who watched the grown-ups with wide-eyed interest. “Let’s move this discussion to the parlor, shall we?”
He nodded to the two older children. “Zoe and Peter, you help the others with their supper please.” Then he took Elthia’s arm and all but pulled her out of the room.
As soon as they reached the parlor, he released her, as if touching her were distasteful. His next words were all the more intimidating for their softness. “Backing out already? So much for all that talk about honoring commitments.” His expression branded her as beneath contempt. “I should have known a pampered bit of high-class fluff wouldn’t have a notion about honor or responsibility.”
Elthia shook her head, confused and defensive. “No, no, you don’t understand. I came here to fill the post of governess, not to be someone’s mail-order bride.”
The sound he made was suspiciously like a snort. “Foxberry has a great school. Why would I waste money on a governess?”
“But that’s what you advertised for. I read the file myself.” A spurt of anger momentarily replaced her fear. “How dare you misrepresent yourself in such a way! You took advantage of Mrs. Pembroke and of me. It’s vile and probably illegal. I have half a mind to find the local sheriff and have you arrested.”
Mr. Tanner wasn’t intimidated. “I did not misrepresent anything. I made it very clear to the agency exactly what I was looking for. If you paid any attention at all to my post, there’s no way you could be confused about any of this.”
She drew in a breath as he pointed a finger, stopping just short of poking her chest.
His frown turned contemptuous. “If this is some ploy to get out of the contract and still be able to hold your head up, don’t bother. A weak, spoiled lady with a tendency to run away from her troubles might be the last thing I want for the kids or myself, but I warned you earlier. You’re in this for good, whether you want to be or not.”
“How dare you! Why I—”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your voice down,” he said. “There’s no point in upsetting the kids.” He straightened. “I don’t have time for this posturing. If you’re not going to help, at least stay out of the way. In the meantime, before you try that ‘I didn’t know what I was getting into’ story again, you should reread that contract you signed.”
Elthia watched him stalk out of the room. Slumping, she steadied herself with a hand to a chair. The long day and its emotional ups and downs had taken its toll. She suddenly felt too exhausted to think straight. Maybe her father was right. Maybe she was too helpless, too naïve, to make her own decisions.
How had this happened? Was Mr. Tanner a vi
llain, or had there been a terrible mix-up with the paperwork at the agency?
Paperwork!
Of course. He’d told her to reread the contract, and that’s just what she’d do. Then she’d force him to do the same. She wasn’t her father’s daughter for nothing. She’d read that sheet of paper very carefully before signing it. It was an employment contract for a temporary teaching assignment, nothing more.
Feeling her energy rebound, she hurried into the hall. Her copy lay somewhere in her luggage, but he still had the one she’d given him. “Mr. Tanner, just a minute please.” Stepping into the kitchen, she ran smack into his rock-solid chest.
He placed a hand on both her arms, steadying her before stepping back a pace. “Well, Miss Sinclare, what is it now?”
Elthia’s cheeks heated, but she held on to what dignity she could. Pushing her glasses up on her nose, she managed to keep her gaze locked to his as she held out a hand. “The contract, sir. I’d like to see your copy of it if I may.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And just what do you expect that to prove?” Then he scowled. “I warn you, don’t try to tear it up.”
She raised her chin. “Why would I want to tear it up? It’s the proof I need to support my story. It states quite clearly that the position I accepted was that of governess.”
“Does it now?”
Elthia frowned impatiently. “Yes, of course it does. You read it there at Whistling Oak. Surely you remember what it said. There was nothing at all vague about the terms.”
“I agree, it spells things out in very plain language.” He strode out of the room, and she followed him as far as the foot of the stairs. It only took seconds for him to return and hand her the document.
Elthia, itching to rub the I’m-only-doing-this-to-humor-you expression from his face, unfolded it and skimmed it.
Then she blinked.
She read it twice. Where had this contract come from? It most definitely was not the document she’d read so carefully before signing. Someone had switched papers but when and how? They’d hardly been out of her sight since she’d signed them.
It must have been Mr. Tanner. He’d somehow substituted the document she’d handed him for this one. Her gaze frantically turned to the bottom of the contract, and she got another shock.
It couldn’t be!
There was her name, penned in her own handwriting. Alongside it was the signature of Louella Pembroke. It must be a forgery, but it was such a good one even she couldn’t tell the difference.
How dare he try to coerce her this way. She shook the document under his nose. “How did you do this?”
“Do what?” He looked more puzzled than guilty.
“Forge my signature so perfectly. Did you trace it? And where’s the real contract?”
His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed at her accusation. “Don’t you think you’re carrying this charade a bit far?”
“Don’t think you can intimidate me with that oh-so-superior tone. I have my own copy of the contract.”
She turned and all but fled upstairs. If he thought he could bully her with this elaborate act, he was very much mistaken. It took her several minutes, but she finally located her copy in the larger of her trunks.
Marching back down the stairs, she found Mr. Tanner still standing where she’d left him, though now the lamps in the hall were lit against the encroaching darkness.
She waved the paper triumphantly. “This is the document I signed, not that substitute you’re trying to fob off on me.”
With the air of an adult humoring a child, the infuriating Mr. Tanner plucked it from her fingers, pulled the contract out of the sealed envelope, and looked it over quickly.
After reading it, he shrugged and handed it back to her. “I won’t argue with you on that score. But I don’t rightly see how it differs from the one I looked at earlier.”
Her hands starting to tremble, Elthia took the contract and forced her eyes to focus on the print. He was right. It was identical to the one he’d handed her a few minutes earlier.
A very simple, very binding, marriage contract.
“No.” Her voice seemed a strained whisper, even to her own ears. “It’s not possible. That’s not the paper I signed.”
He reached out a hand. “Miss Sinclare, perhaps you’d better sit down.”
“Don’t touch me!” Elthia jerked her arm away from him. She had to get away, had to escape this nightmare. Turning, she bolted for the door, the sounds of Mr. Tanner’s pursuit sending fingers of panic skittering up her spine.
She burst out onto the porch, stumbling to a stop, her waist pressed against the rail. Her heart thudded in her chest but not loudly enough to mask the sound of boots stepping onto the porch behind her. She hugged a support post with one arm, refusing to turn and face him, but she didn’t resume her flight.
There was really nowhere for her to go.
Alex, still playing with Poppy in the last of the fading light, looked up, startled by the adults’ precipitous appearance. Elthia tried to smile reassuringly at the child but knew it was a miserable effort.
Mr. Tanner rescued the situation, speaking to his nephew in a calm, “everything’s okay” tone. “Alex, why don’t you take that irritatingly noisy skein of yarn out to the backyard. Miss Sinclare and I need to talk.”
Alex scrambled up. “Yes sir. Come on, Poppy.” He shot Elthia a curious look, then headed around the corner of the house.
Elthia watched him go and felt the last vestige of her control start to slip away. There was a very real danger that she would collapse into sobbing hysteria any minute now.
If Mr. Tanner made any move to touch or badger her, it would happen, she knew it would.
Caleb studied her brittle appearance. “Miss Sinclare.”
He repeated her name, gentling his tone as if he were talking to Josie. Slowly she looked up, and he was surprised by the panic in her eyes.
Blast it all, he wanted her to understand how serious he was, perhaps feel a little healthy fear but not be scared out of her wits.
“Look,” he said, trying to be reasonable, “I might go along with your story that you didn’t realize what you were getting into if that makes this easier. But that doesn’t change the fact that you signed that contract, and that these kids need a mother.”
She still stared at him as if afraid he would physically assault her at any minute.
Hang it all, he wasn’t a monster. Why was she trying to make him feel like one? Obviously she’d changed her mind about wanting to marry him. But he had to find some way to bring her back around—he had to. He couldn’t find another bride in just two days, and he couldn’t risk having the kids taken from him to be scattered and separated from each other.
Surely he could persuade her to stay. He hid a grimace as he realized he’d also have to help her salvage her pride over this bit of childish panic if he wanted her to be comfortable here.
He took a deep breath and flashed his best choirboy smile. “Why don’t we go back inside and see if we can’t figure out some way to untangle this mess?”
She blinked. Then with visible effort she gathered her dignity around her. “I agree, we need to talk this through logically. As long as we remain reasonable, we should be able to work something out.” She attempted a smile. “But let’s talk out here, shall we?”
Caleb nodded agreement. She was still wary of him, but some of the panic seemed to have eased.
Good.
He leaned back against the porch rail and folded his arms, careful to maintain enough distance so she wouldn’t feel threatened. “Now, you said you thought you were coming here to take a post as governess, is that right?”
Her chin lifted a notch. “That was what I agreed to.”
“What led you to believe that?”
She tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear with not-quite-smooth movements. “When I went to Mrs. Pembroke, I made it clear I was looking for a temporary position as a teacher or governess. She presented
your file among those that might meet my needs.”
“Perhaps she included my file by mistake?”
Her lips curved haughtily. “I’m neither foolish nor unwitting. I read your file very carefully, along with the other files she presented. Everything in there indicated you were looking for a governess, not a wife.”
Her superior tone got under his skin. So did those full, pouty lips, but he couldn’t afford to think about that right now. “As carefully as you read the contract you signed?”
She flushed again. “I tell you, the contract I read and signed was for a position as governess.”
He let that pass. “If you read my file, then you must have seen the letters I sent to Pembroke.”
She shook her head. “There were no letters in the file. Only the agency’s notes.”
Caleb frowned. What was she trying to say? “Miss Sinclare, do you honestly expect me to believe a reputable agency like Pembroke Placement Agency would stoop to trickery? It makes no sense.” He waved a hand. “You obviously come from a well-to-do family, a family right in Mrs. Pembroke’s backyard. But I’m a stranger, a nobody to them, and it’s a sure bet the fee they’re going to make on this deal will be but a drop in the bucket to them. There’s nothing here worth risking their reputation and a local family’s wrath over.”
Her lips compressed. “I didn’t say it was deliberate,” she said defensively. “It must have been a mistake.”
Caleb gave himself a mental kick. If she wanted to pretend this was Pembroke’s fault, he should have let her so they could move on to working out a solution. He nodded as if agreeing with her last bit of absurdity. “Could be.”
As she relaxed, he remembered the way she’d held Josie on her lap as she read a story, remembered the way Josie had snuggled up to her so trustingly. What would his youngest niece feel if this new adult in her life disappeared as suddenly as she’d entered it? “Still,” he added, “you did sign the contract.”
Lady Privilege looked ready to stomp her foot at him. “This is preposterous. I tell you, there’s been some kind of mistake.”