Governess's Dilemma (9781460320600) Read online

Dalton looked at his arm. The patch of blood had spread. “It’s nothing. I can manage.”

  She put her hands to her blue scarf and hesitated, as if uncertain what to do, then pulled it loose from her neck. Without a word she wrapped the long strip of wool around his upper arm. Her fingers fumbled, but he uttered no complaint, only stared at her face in curiosity, hardly aware of the increased sting.

  She glanced up then quickly down again.

  “You helped find Sisi,” she offered by way of explanation.

  “Your daughter?”

  “Sisi is all I have left...” Her words trailed off as she looked back to the wreckage in a daze.

  “And your husband? What of him? Was he also on the train?” When she didn’t answer, he insisted, “Do you want me to help look for him among the passengers?”

  Her eyes slowly flicked up to his. From the sluggish droop of her lids and the blank look she continued to give him, more noticeable up close and with more light, he worried that her injury was far more serious than he had first thought. Head wounds could be severe. Fatal. Blood smeared her auburn hair and pallid skin. She put her hand to her cheek to wipe some away and he noticed the dull flash of a wedding ring.

  He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the remainder of blood from her face, then lightly blotted it from her temple. His entire kerchief grew red and he frowned.

  “Best to hold it there,” he instructed.

  “No one but Sisi and I were traveling,” she said after a moment, as if just remembering his earlier question.

  When she remained immobile, he lifted her hand to the wadded kerchief and placed her palm over the cloth. “Keep pressure on it to stop the bleeding. You need to sit down.”

  She did not resist as he helped her to the frozen ground.

  A perfunctory glance at his gold pocket watch showed it was broken, the hands still pointing near midnight. It could have been minutes since the crash; it could have been hours.

  At last, the bobbing light of a lantern appeared over a distant hill and a wagon rolled into view. First one, then others came. Dalton blew on his hands, rubbing them together for futile warmth as he waited and watched several citizens of Hillsdale bring blankets and first aid to the survivors. The seriously injured were placed in wagon beds to be taken to town.

  “Mr. Freed, sir?”

  Taking his concerned gaze off the young woman who held tightly to the girl, Dalton turned at the welcome sound of a familiar voice.

  “Jonas.” He clapped a hand to his servant’s shoulder. “I cannot tell you how g-good it is to see you.” The prolonged cold made his lips stiff and speech difficult.

  “Your mother received word of your arrival and sent me to fetch you. It’s lucky I made it to the depot before the storm grew bad.”

  “And quite f-fortuitous that it has now seemed to pass.”

  “Yes.” The short, balding man stared at the wreckage and the fires in disbelief. “Such a terrible tragedy.”

  “Indeed.”

  “I’m happy to see you’re well, sir. When I heard news of two trains colliding and saw the glow in the sky, I had no idea what to expect. And, well, sir, I also wish to offer my condolences...about your brother.”

  “Thank you, Jonas.”

  Dalton had no wish to speak of the terrible misfortune that had forced his return to Eagle’s Landing. One tragedy was enough to deal with at a time.

  The snow began to fall again, light but steady. He wished for no more than to reach home before a second storm could hit, have his arm tended to and fall into a warm, soft bed.

  “The carriage?”

  “Just around the bend, sir.”

  Dalton studied the wooded area. More citizens had arrived to help, but the survivors in need of aid and shelter far outnumbered volunteers. Additional help would likely follow, but the young woman sitting in snow past her hips needed prompt medical attention. Others appeared to be more badly injured than his two charges, as he’d come to consider the woman and her child, and there was no telling how long it would be before either one received aid. They would do better to rely on Genevieve and her remedial tonics than to wait for Dr. Clark or any of his associates. And there certainly was room for two more in his carriage.

  “Come with me.” He crouched down and placed a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder. Her eyes remained dull and unresponsive. “I will see to it th-that you and Sisi receive the care you need. My driver is h-here to take us to my family estate.”

  To his surprise she snatched her arm from his grasp. “No.”

  “No?” He shook his head in bewilderment.

  “Sisi and I will stay with th-the others and wait for help.”

  “You might have a very long wait.” He waved a hand to include their frozen surroundings and the multitude of the wounded. “I can offer help now. Su-surely it is best to remove yourselves from these elements straightaway and f-find a warm fire? Your daughter has no coat.” He motioned to the shivering child in her woolen dress.

  “My daughter...” The woman blinked then seemed to notice the girl’s lack of outerwear for the first time. She winced. “I’ll find a blanket.” Instead, she fumbled with the buttons of her own coat, but her fingers shook too much to be effective.

  She had bound and knotted her scarf tightly around his sleeve or Dalton would remove his long coat for the sake of the child. “This is utter foolishness,” he said in frustration. “Of c-course you’ll come with me. I have servants to provide aid, and you plainly need it.”

  He picked up the child for the second time that night and began trudging through the snow, knowing her mother would follow. The stinging cold made his wound numb and made it easier to manage the slight burden. At least Sisi gave no protest.

  He heard the awkward shushing of her mother’s steps behind him.

  “Put her down!”

  Dalton turned in surprise at the ferocity in her tone. Witnessing the sudden irrational fear in her flashing eyes, he did as told. Did she think after having done all in his power to help them that he would now cause harm?

  The idea provoked his impatience and fueled his irritation.

  “Madam, really—”

  The rest of his angry protest died on frozen lips as the woman slumped forward in a faint, and Dalton once more caught her in his arms.

  Chapter 2

  At the continual rocking motion, Myrna slowly came awake, her head splitting with pain, her entire body feeling bruised. Her cheek rested on something solid and warm. As her awareness cleared, she realized the band of strength around her middle was a man’s arm.

  Her eyes flew open.

  The world lay horizontal.

  Myrna blinked to try to gain perspective. Across from her, Sisi slept upright, bundled inside a thick blanket with her legs tucked up beside her and huddled into the corner of a confined, enclosed space. Myrna realized they were inside a slow-moving carriage. The small window at the side provided light from the icy elements. And she also now understood that her head rested on a man’s lap, his other hand pressed against her temple.

  She jerked to sit upright, breaking free of his hold, and groaned when her head swam with even fiercer pain. Tears filmed her eyes.

  “Easy...” His rich tenor came low and calm as he clasped her arm to steady her. She noticed the cloth he held, colored with her blood, and the events of the horrific night came rushing back to add their own torment.

  “Where are we?” she asked, moving as far from him as possible on the short leather seat. “Where are you taking us?”

  He released a heavy breath. “Keep your voice down, madam. You wouldn’t want to wake your daughter after all she’s been through.”

  Myrna glanced at Sisi but did not correct him.

  “Perhaps we should start with introductions,”
he suggested. “I’m Dalton Freed.”

  She hesitated, knowing it was foolish, but was unable to quench the immediate desire to refuse to reciprocate. “Myrna,” she said quietly, barely able to think past the pain. “Myrna McBride.”

  “I want to assure you, Mrs. McBride, I have only your best interests at heart.”

  He thought her married, and she remembered the ring and her reason for wearing it.

  “You took me against my will,” she argued. “I told you I wasn’t going with you.”

  “And I wasn’t about to leave you wounded and sitting in the snow when I have the means to help.”

  “Volunteers had come.”

  “Yes, and I am one of Hillsdale’s citizens, returning home after months away, and equally able to lend my services.”

  She owed him her gratitude, but once she heard Dalton Freed speak to his driver, she realized he was wealthy. And that changed everything.

  A man of affluence had almost destroyed their family. More than once. Twice fooled, doubly foolish. She would not fall into that trap again.

  “I appreciate your aid in finding Sisi, but is there no shelter where others have gone? You can take us there.”

  “When I have the best of provisions and a house with guest rooms? I think not.”

  “It’s what I want.”

  In the shadowed carriage, she acquired a glimpse of a lean, strong jaw and arresting mouth, which he pulled into a grim line. His eyes flashed and she remembered them to be light gray, like steel. His hair was very dark with a wave to it. That she should remember such details sharpened her unease to be near him.

  “It’s not only imprudent to take you to a provisional shelter, where it’s doubtful either you or your daughter will receive immediate care, but it’s also miles behind us. My home is on the outskirts of town. We should be arriving soon. And I have no intention of telling my driver to turn the carriage around. The snow is falling heavily. I want to make it home before another storm can hit.”

  Myrna glanced at the window, seeing that he was right.

  “It seems I have no choice,” she whispered.

  “You showed no hesitation to receive my help earlier, even begged for it. And suddenly, without reason, you regard me as a ravenous wild beast ready to devour you. Why is that?”

  His candid observation held a wry twist, but she sensed an underlying note of hurt.

  Sisi stirred. Despite the throbbing in her head, Myrna shifted to the opposite seat. Her actions awkward, she managed to draw Sisi close, slipping her arm around her shoulders and pulling her small head to rest against her side. Sisi’s arm looped across her middle. Immediately she fell back asleep.

  Aware of Dalton Freed’s eyes on her the entire time, Myrna kept her attention fixed to the whirling snow, finding it the least dangerous of her immediate surroundings. Minutes dragged past in the silence of the carriage, the wind outside keening a lonesome, eerie tune.

  The carriage rolled to a stop. Her host-abductor cleared his throat. Myrna jumped so aggressively that she woke Sisi.

  “My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you. We have arrived.” He opened the door. “Welcome to Eagle’s Landing.” He stepped out and turned, offering his hand to help her down.

  Myrna hesitated before placing her fingers in his large palm, her anxiety escalating to shock when she caught sight of his home. A three-story manor with gables, turrets and chimneys, surrounded on three sides by a forest of tall trees, it surely was the most enormous residence for one man Myrna had seen. She gaped, closing her mouth once he turned from scooping up Sisi. He led the way up several shallow steps and through one of the wide double front doors.

  An elderly woman in a black dress and white apron came hurrying to greet him.

  “Master Dalton. Welcome home, sir.”

  “Thank you, Miss Browning. It’s good to be home.” He sat Sisi on a chair by the entrance table in the large, round foyer. Ahead, a wide staircase followed the wall and wound in an arc to the next level. Everywhere Myrna glanced, she spotted opulence.

  “Your hat and coat?” The maid appeared baffled, looking from Myrna, also hatless, to the child without a coat and wrapped in a thick blanket, then back to her employer.

  “I lost the hat. The coat will have to stay on awhile longer.”

  “Sir?”

  “A bit of trouble along the way...”

  “Dalton, is that you, dear boy?”

  At the sound of a mild, well-articulated woman’s voice, Myrna looked with surprise in that direction. He had neglected to tell her he didn’t live alone. That realization took the edge off her anxiety, though she could not stop thinking of him as the wicked wolf, due to his earlier comment about comparing him to a wild beast.

  A petite woman with upswept dark hair hurried toward him from another room. He stood much taller and had to bend over to receive her hug, reciprocating with one arm.

  “It’s good to have you home, son. Those trains can be a nuisance, often running late.” Her eyes sparkled as she pulled back, then noticed Myrna standing behind him.

  “Actually, Mother, there was an accident. As you see, I’m fine,” he hurried to reassure her, “but others were not so fortunate.”

  “An accident?” Dismay knit her brows.

  “Two trains. A collision. I brought guests, fellow passengers in need of aid.”

  Miss Browning gasped at the news, and his mother slowly shook her head.

  “Oh, my, how awful. Miss Browning, please find Genevieve.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Their words ran together and grew faint. Faces wavered. The entire room began to swim before Myrna’s eyes, much like what happened outside the wreckage.

  “Dear, are you all right?” Mrs. Freed asked.

  “I...” Myrna struggled to remain upright. She clutched the table, putting a hand to her head. “I think I need to sit down.” Her legs folded after she got the last words out, and once more she felt his strong arms catch her before she could hit the marble floor.

  * * *

  Dalton swept the injured woman into his arms. Holding her slender form to his chest, he looked with concern at Myrna’s white face and closed eyelids. She mumbled something incomprehensible but otherwise did not stir.

  “Is she going to be all right?”

  At the fearful question, he glanced into the child’s anxious eyes. “We’ll take good care of her, Sisi. I promise.”

  “Miss Browning, why don’t you take Sisi to the kitchen and give her a slice of pie and some warm milk? Oh, and do tend to the child’s poor eye.” His mother looked at Sisi with a gentle smile. “Miss Browning will take good care of you. You must be hungry.”

  The child timidly nodded, and Miss Browning held out her hand. “Come along, then. Let’s take care of that shiner first.”

  “What’s a shiner?” Sisi asked, slipping her hand into the housekeeper’s and following her out of the foyer.

  “That’s what you’ll be sporting on that eye of yours. Likely you’ll be wearing every color of the rainbow.”

  “I like rainbows.”

  With Sisi taken care of, Dalton moved up the staircase. “Where should I put her?” he asked his mother who followed at his heels.

  “The blue room is always prepared.”

  At the second landing, he headed to the right and down three rooms, his mother moving ahead to open the door. He strode to the Queen Anne bed and waited for his mother to pull back the blue, lace-trimmed coverlet before setting Myrna down. Her dark lashes fluttered partially open. Upon seeing her alarm, he tried to set her mind at ease.

  “It’s all right. My mother’s here and will take care of you.”

  She mumbled something that could have been gratitude or refusal—he wasn’t sure given his earlier experiences with the
woman. Once her head touched the pillow, she closed her eyes again, this time with a slight groan.

  Dalton straightened and looked at his mother. “I’ll find Genevieve.”

  “What of your arm?” She approached and touched his sleeve above Myrna’s makeshift bandage. “You’re hurt! Why did you not say anything? It couldn’t have been easy for you to carry her. I could have asked Jonas.”

  Not for anything would he admit the pain had returned since the shock of the cold had waned. “It’s nothing. Others were far more injured than I. Genevieve can look at my arm later.”

  “I can barely fathom that our family has suffered another accident in so short a time. I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you, too.”

  At the sorrow that clouded her blue-gray eyes, he touched her cheek. “Mother, I will be fine. I’m sorry I wasn’t here after...” He paused. “I didn’t get your post until two weeks after it happened.”

  “You’re here now.” She patted his hand. “But the others! Once the storm lets up, we must send Jonas out with supplies.”

  He nodded, his eyes on Myrna’s unconscious form.

  “She’s awfully young,” his mother said quietly, mirroring his confused thoughts.

  “Yes. Too young.”

  She looked at him oddly. “Whatever do you mean?”

  He was given no chance to reply as Genevieve bustled in with her usual shy greeting and took charge of the situation. Seeing he was no longer needed, Dalton retreated to the kitchen.

  Sisi sat in the shadows near the kitchen fire, holding a bulky cloth packed with snow to her eye. He took the chair cattycornered to hers and smiled, hoping to reassure her. The housekeeper set a plate of pie before the child then stirred the milk to warm it, giving a cup to Sisi.

  “That needs tending to, Master Dalton.”

  He grimaced at his arm but nodded, allowing Miss Browning to remove the tightly wound and knotted scarf. At last, he took off his coat, damp from snow. She grabbed shears and cut his bloody sleeve, ripping it to gain access to his injury. Miss Browning doused a cloth with cooking sherry, and he hissed as she swabbed what he could now see was a long, deep cut that again bled freely. The searing pain in his arm made his eyes water, and he clenched his jaw, struggling not to groan in front of the child. He concentrated on other things to try to take his mind off the pain, and wondered what in the wreckage could have caused such an injury. He supposed it should be stitched, but only Genevieve had the capability. He hoped the young woman’s head wouldn’t need to be sewn, though recalling the gash at her temple it was likely. Likely, too, that she had suffered a concussion, having swooned twice.