A Marriage Deal With The Outlaw. Harper George St.

A Marriage Deal With The Outlaw - Harper George St.


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cast him a glance that had him thinking she intended to go directly to her father and confess everything. For the first time that night, Castillo’s palms began to sweat. He had to talk to her before she saw her father. Desperate to stop her, he grabbed his wineglass and intentionally fumbled it, spilling the expensive Bordeaux across the tablecloth and down her skirt.

      She gasped and jumped away from the table, but the damage had been done. The room erupted in a flurry of activity as napkins were gathered to blot the liquid, and the women crooned over the loss of the silk. Caroline’s eyes flashed with fire as they met his.

      “I’m sorry,” he said. Prudence was quick to reassure him, but Caroline recognized it as the token apology it was. Her jaw clenched and she didn’t look away from him. She knew he’d done it intentionally.

      Castillo caught Hunter’s attention, and gave a brief nod of his head toward Caroline. Hunter had no idea Castillo had met her on the train, but he knew that look and moved to get closer to her. He would be vigilant and stop her before she could say too much. Castillo turned and made his way upstairs to figure out which bedroom was hers. When she retreated to it to change her gown, he’d be waiting.

       Chapter Three

      The housekeeper, a no-nonsense woman named Wilhelmina, or Willy for short, had appeared to join the legions of hands blotting at Caroline’s stained gown. “Let’s get you out of this gown. I’ll need to get some soap and vinegar on it before that stain sets in.”

      In the day and a half she’d been at the ranch, Caroline had come to admire the woman. If anyone could get the wine out, Willy could. Not that Caroline cared overly much about the gown. She needed to get to her room and think about what to do. She’d never thought to meet the strangely appealing man from the train again, and not under a new identity. What did it mean? Who was he, really? Ever since he walked in, he’d looked at her differently than he had on the train. There was suspicion and caution in his eyes, and she didn’t like the change.

      Over the heads of Willy and the maid, who were inspecting the stain, Caroline met Hunter’s gaze. He watched her with narrowed eyes, some new awareness there that hadn’t been present until now. Did he know about his brother?

      “Mary, go help her out of her gown and bring it to me straightaway.” The young maid murmured her understanding of Willy’s command, and together Caroline and Mary made their way up the stairs. Caroline looked for Reyes’s dark head the entire way, but she didn’t see him. He’d slipped out during the ruckus, which was worrisome because she had no idea what he intended.

      Did these people know about the man they welcomed into their home? As Mary pushed her up the stairs, Caroline darted a glance at Emmy, who was standing next to Hunter in the wide hallway outside the dining room and smiling at something Aunt Prudie had said. Emmaline seemed oblivious, perhaps too deliriously happy in the days leading up to her wedding to even know that she’d embraced someone dangerous. Or did she, too, know about Castillo Jameson’s double identity? Caroline was so confused, she hardly knew what to think.

      Was he dangerous? Caroline took in a deep breath and tried to think through the facts. The only thing she really knew from the incident on the train was that he and his friend had been chasing a madman who’d had a gun and had tried to take her hostage. The man was obviously dangerous and a criminal to stoop to such actions. But Reyes, or Castillo Jameson as he was known here, hadn’t even had a gun, as far as she knew. It was entirely possible that the madman had stolen from him or slighted him in some way, and that was the reason they’d followed him.

      The only problem with that theory was that the madman had known them. He’d mentioned giving the big one that horrible scar and had referred to Castillo as Reyes. Law-abiding men didn’t go by two names. Caroline hadn’t reported the incident because when they got to the station there had been no mention of a man jumping from the train, and she hadn’t seen the point of involving their family name in a scandal and upsetting Aunt Prudie. But, at dinner, Castillo Jameson had clearly been worried that she would mention their encounter. Every time she’d opened her mouth, he’d tensed. And she knew that he’d spilled the wine intentionally as soon as she’d mentioned leaving and going to see her father.

      Had she made a mistake keeping quiet? Was he trying to get her alone?

      After making their way up the wide staircase, Caroline and Mary reached her room at the end of the long hallway and rushed inside. Caroline half expected to find the man waiting for her, but the room was vacant. She closed her eyes in relief and nearly smiled at her own ridiculous notion. Mary was with her, and he wouldn’t risk approaching her with someone around. She hoped.

      The maid closed the door behind them. “Here, miss, turn around and I’ll help you out of this.”

      “Thank you, Mary,” Caroline said, and faced the leaded glass door that led out to the second-floor balcony as the maid unfastened the row of tiny buttons along her spine. The door was framed by windows covered with blue velvet drapes. She checked to make sure the toes of his boots weren’t sticking out at the bottom because he was hiding behind them and nearly smiled again at her own foolishness. Though she did glance at the lock on the door to make sure it was turned. It was.

      “What do you know about Castillo Jameson?” she asked on a whim.

      “Not much, miss. I’ve seen him a few times in town.”

      Well, there was no information there. Mary pulled the silk over Caroline’s head before laying it over the high back of the chair sitting in front of the vanity. Then she returned to untie the bustle and unlace Caroline’s corset. When those were put away in the armoire, Caroline said, “Just bring me my wrapper and take the gown to Willy. I can do the rest.” Mary didn’t argue and helped her shrug into the cream silk dressing gown.

      When the maid left, Caroline locked the door and leaned back against the cool mahogany to wait for her heart to calm down. Now that she was away from the tension of Castillo’s presence, she’d decided that maybe she was making too much of this. It was entirely possible there was a reasonable explanation for why Reyes and his friend had been chasing that man on the train. She tried to focus on the information she did know. They’d called the man Bennett, so they’d known his name. They’d also been interested in the location of his father. Perhaps the man’s father had wronged them, somehow.

      Clearly, she’d stumbled into something larger than a simple theft on a train. She wasn’t sure what to do about it. Just stay calm, Caroline. You can figure this out. Bringing her hand to her chest, she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. She’d do nothing until morning. She’d sleep on it and probably be thinking more clearly in the morning.

      Crossing the well-appointed room decorated in tasteful shades of blue and cream, Caroline checked the lock on the door leading out to the veranda, even though she could see that it was turned. She was being silly, but she felt much better when she found the knob wouldn’t turn and she went ahead and drew the curtains over the door. She even laughed to herself a bit as she walked to the armoire, her hands pushing the wrap from her shoulders. No one was trying to get her. She’d get into her night rail and go to sleep. Everything would seem better in the morning.

      “I’d like a moment before you undress.”

      Her heart jumped up into her throat and she gasped and turned to see Reyes stepping out of the small washroom attached to her bedroom. He was dressed in his shirtsleeves and suspenders with no coat or waistcoat, as if he’d been about to retire before deciding to pay a call on her. He still wore the dark trousers and boots he’d been wearing downstairs. Tall, with wide shoulders, his chest roped with muscle beneath his shirt, he seemed to take up most of the space in the room and all of the available air. She had to force a breath into her tightened chest. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”

      He turned his hands palms out to show he wasn’t armed, though he left them at his sides. A quick glance to his hips and waistband found no weapon stowed there. “I want to talk to you, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t scream.”

      “Why


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