Home Before Sundown

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

“I’m glad you finally asked her,” George said as they descended to the first floor after having made themselves presentable.

Tom smiled down at his son. “So am I.” He rested his arm around George’s shoulder. Although George was only eleven, he was sprouting like a weed.

They walked down the corridor toward the dining room.

Abruptly, an angry, upraised voice disturbed the early evening quiet. It came from behind the closed dining room doors. Tom tightened his grip on George’s shoulder to stop him from walking in on an argument, although Tom himself continued toward the doorway. He felt his son grip his sleeve.

“I’m going in there with you, Papa.” Of course George wouldn’t let him walk into what he thought might be a dicey situation. They’d had each other’s backs for a long while now. Tom closed his fingers over his son’s hand, giving it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

“Just you make sure you stay behind me until we see what’s going on.” Tom could deal with men fighting, but when women quarreled, he wasn’t sure what tack to take. He opened one of the double doors and paused in the doorway.

Tom was startled when he realized the angry voice belonged to Mrs. O’Connor. “It’s nothing but a child you are,” she said in an unkind tone, her accent very pronounced. “Look at your narrow hips. Tom Pettigrew needs a woman who can fulfill all his manly needs.”

“Like you?” Olivia sounded composed, reminding Tom she was a well-bred young lady.

“Exactly like me.”

“But it’s me he’s asked to marry him.”

There was the sound of a slap, and Tom was shocked out of his inertia.

“Mrs. O’Connor! What are you doing?”

Mrs. O’Connor turned pale. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough. George, go upstairs and start packing. Miss Olivia, I’d like you to pack your things as well, please.”

Olivia was also pale. Her eyes were over bright, and her lower lip trembled, but she stood straight and refused to let a tear fall.

His son took Olivia’s hand and escorted her out of the room.

“Mr. Pettigrew, this isn’t what it looks like!”

“It looked like you striking my fiancée, but if I have that wrong, suppose you tell me exactly what it was.”

Painful color mounted her cheeks. “She’s a trollop and entirely too young for you.”

“Don’t you dare call her that.” He wrapped a hand around her wrist and squeezed, and she cried out. “Who I marry is my decision.”

“She’s cuckolded you before you’re even married. How can you trust her not to slip out when you’re not home and dally with some man?”

He released her, took out his money belt, and removed some bills to pay for his room and Olivia’s.

“What is this?”

“What I owe you for our room and board.”

“You’re…you’re leaving?”

“We are. I won’t remain here to have my future bride abused like this.”

“But—but she doesn’t love you! Only a couple of months ago she was being courted by another man.”

“How do you know that?” he asked mildly.

“I read the society pages. Everyone wondered if there’d be an announcement, but of course, with her loose morals…And now she’s carrying his babe.”

He snorted and started to turn away, but she clutched at his sleeve.

“Stop! You can’t marry her. Don’t you realize if you do, she’ll break your heart?”

“Why would she do that? She’s a well-bred young lady.”

“Well-bred? Hardly that.” Mrs. O’Connor scoffed. “How can you trust her after what she’s done?”

“And exactly what is that?” His tone of voice must have made her realize she was going too far.

She cleared her throat. “She’s too narrow in the hips to safely bear children. Even if you marry her, you’ll wind up losing her.”

Oh God, Tom hadn’t thought of that. He couldn’t bear to lose another woman he loved. But then he noticed the sly look in his landlady’s eyes, and he realized she was attempting to play on his fears.

“My wife will have the most skilled doctor in the city.” He shook free of her grip and headed for the hallway.

“No! You can’t walk away from me. I love you!”

“I’m sorry for that, but there’s nothing I can do. The heart chooses where it will.”

“She’s not worthy of you! Why won’t you listen to me? She’s carrying another man’s child. If it is his.”

“What makes you think it isn’t mine?”

“But—” Her eyes grew huge and her jaw sagged, not a very becoming reaction. “But—”

“Just keep in mind that if I hear of any rumors about Miss St. Claire, I’ll be very unhappy. As a matter of fact, I might be so unhappy that I start a few rumors myself.”

Mrs. O’Connor shied away from him until she backed into a chair, and then she sank down and buried her face in her hands. Although her sobs were soundless, her shoulders shook from the force of her weeping.

Tom was sorry it had come to this. He could never have fallen in love with her, but he had liked her. He gave her a final look before he turned and strode out of the room.

George and Olivia were waiting by the front door. At their feet were Olivia’s portmanteau, Tom and George’s saddlebags, and a grip that held the clothes Tom had bought George for school. Tom scooped up his saddlebag and George’s grip and reached for the doorknob. He opened the door, but before he could nod for them to leave ahead of him, footsteps approached.

“Mr. Pettigrew!” Mrs. Keogh came bustling toward them. “Where are you going? You’ll miss dinner. The girls are just about to serve it up. We’re having chicken this evening.”

“I’m afraid we have another engagement.” He held out his hand. “It was a pleasure knowing you, Mrs. Keogh.”

“A pleasure knowing me? I don’t understand. Are you leaving us, Mr. Pettigrew?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, we are. George, come say goodbye to Mrs. Keogh.”

His son stepped forward. “Take care of your lumbago, Mrs. K.” He kissed her cheek. “I hope you’ll be well.”

Tom couldn’t help but notice that Olivia stayed where she was. However, she did say, “Goodbye, Mrs. Keogh.” She picked up her portmanteau and took his arm. “Shall we go, Thomas?”

Tom swallowed a smile. His Olivia might be a lady, but she was a feisty one.

“But…but…Mrs. O’Connor! You can’t leave. You’re supposed to—Deirdre!” Mrs. Keogh screeched.

Tom pulled the door closed behind them, shutting out the hullabaloo.

“Where are we going?” Olivia asked.

“There’s a hotel on Sixth Avenue. I came across it some time ago when I dropped some passengers off there. It will do until we can move into our house.”

“When will that be, Tom?”

“Tomorrow, I hope. After we’re married.” He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair, but he wasn’t certain how she would react to that, so he didn’t.

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

George tugged on Tom’s sleeve. “I’m kind of hungry, Papa.” He grinned up at Tom.

“I know. You’re a growing boy.” Tom ruffled his son’s hair. “They have a dining room in the hotel. I’ll register us, and then we’ll eat.”

After Tom signed the register and placed a couple of coins on the counter, he told the desk clerk, “I’d like tubs brought to our rooms tomorrow morning.” He handed the clerk an extra coin.

“Thank you, sir.” He smiled broadly. “The dining room is still open if you’d like a meal.”

“We were counting on it.”

“Go right on in, I’ll have your luggage taken up to your rooms.”

“Thank you.”

The clerk summoned a bellboy, and Tom gave him a coin as well. He knew the boy and the clerk would both give excellent service.

Tom also knew of a place where he could send the clothes they planned to wear for the wedding to be freshened.

Olivia bit her lip. “The…the dress I intended to wear is the one I wore the day you rescued me.”

“From what I recall, that was a very pretty dress, and you looked fetching in it.”

“Thank you.” She blushed and gave him a shy smile, and he was pleased.

No, he was more than pleased.

“Papa? Supper?”

“Yes, George.” He tugged a lock of his son’s hair, offered Olivia his arm, and they entered the hotel’s dining room and were shown to a table. Tom was proud George waited until Olivia was seated before sitting himself.

And in spite of the subdued excitement that surrounded him and his son, in spite of Olivia’s distress at realizing she now carried another life under her heart, they all made a good dinner.