A Marriage Deal With The Outlaw. Harper St. George

A Marriage Deal With The Outlaw - Harper St. George


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dropped her hand because Emmy had come around the table to embrace him.

      “Welcome back,” she said. “How was your trip? Did you get to see any sights?”

      He gave the standard answers: the trip was fine, the food on the train was awful, and yes, he’d gone to a play at the Bijou Theater. The whole time he spoke, he was taking in the reactions around him. He’d had too much practice having to be constantly aware of the mood in the room.

      Hunter had noticed that something transpired between him and Caroline Hartford. His shoulders straightened and the smile fell from his lips as he put a hand at Emmy’s waist and pulled her close.

      Prudence had noticed, too, though her response was very different. She didn’t know about his other identity and their constant need to be vigilant of danger. She only knew that her niece had reacted to him, and she watched them both now with a gleam in her eye, looking back and forth between them as if she’d had the thought to play matchmaker. He’d have to figure out a way to get Caroline alone before she could talk to anyone. She needed to know what was at risk before she inadvertently revealed the Jamesons were the Reyes Brothers.

      Tanner indicated that they needed another place set at the table. A maid who’d been standing at attention along the wall sprang into action, taking a place setting from the glass-faced cabinet at the end of the room. Hunter led Emmy back around to their side of the table.

      “Put him there, next to Caroline.” Prudence smiled, already meddling. “I’d love to hear more of what you thought about Boston, Castillo. Caroline loves the theater. We’ll take you next time you visit.”

      The woman wasn’t subtle. “That was my first and only visit, senora.” Castillo waited for the women to sit, before daring a glance at his father and taking his own seat. Tanner didn’t seem to notice that Caroline had had a reaction to him. His brow was furrowed, but his thoughts seemed to be turned inward. Castillo wasn’t looking forward to the after-dinner confrontation they were certain to have. He hadn’t seen Tanner in years. The man would certainly want to speak to him.

      “Welcome home, Mr. Jameson.” The maid murmured near his ear as she leaned forward to place a glass of wine on the table for him.

      He nearly smiled but only inclined his head. “Mary.” Most of the time the household ran with a skeleton staff, but she must’ve been brought from town due to the extra guests. She usually worked for Glory at Victoria House, not in the brothel upstairs, but serving drinks and beefsteaks downstairs in the various dining rooms. Though she’d made it clear to him several times that she’d be willing to make herself available for more. What would the uptight guests from Boston think if they knew a serving girl from a brothel was serving them their dinner?

      She stepped back and a bowl of pea soup was placed in front of him. He’d been starving, but now he felt too damned tired and anxious to eat. His shoulders were tight, and he was on edge, so attuned to Caroline Hartford at his side that he was aware of every breath she took. Every time she gathered one in, he tensed, knowing that this time she’d tell everyone at the table what she knew. It wasn’t until she resumed eating her half-finished bowl of soup that he relaxed enough to pick up his own spoon.

      Caroline. The name didn’t suit the woman he’d held on the train. She’d been bold and only barely fazed by the ordeal. This woman was a little afraid, but not subdued. Her brow was furrowed and her shoulders tense. She was quiet because she was plotting. He could practically hear her thoughts churning. It was an unpredictable combination that kept him worried.

      “May I ask what took you to Boston?” Prudence asked.

      “I escorted my younger brother, Miguel. He starts university there in autumn.” Castillo inwardly cringed at the explanation. There was no way to adequately explain Miguel’s existence without labeling either Hunter or Castillo a bastard and Tanner a man with two wives. This was one reason he avoided social interactions with the Jamesons.

      Tanner had grown up in Texas and married Castillo’s mother shortly after being injured in the war. It had been a simple ceremony in a chapel on Castillo’s grandfather’s property. But after Castillo had been born, Tanner had been lured to Montana Territory by the promise of wealth in the mines, and he’d forgotten about his first family. He’d soon married Isabelle Hartford, daughter of the wealthy Hartford family from Boston. Unlike with Tanner’s first wedding, however, all the appropriate papers had been filed to prove the marriage was legal and binding. Castillo’s mother had been heartbroken at the abandonment, but she’d eventually moved on and Miguel had been born from a new marriage.

      The only hint Prudence gave that she thought the fact he had a younger brother named Miguel odd was when she paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. She was so poised, with her back ramrod straight, that she didn’t spill a drop. “How wonderful. You’ll have a Harvard boy at your table before long,” she finally said, and carried on as if Castillo hadn’t laid one of Tanner’s biggest scandals at her feet.

      “We’re very proud of the boy,” Tanner said. Castillo couldn’t help but glance at him in surprise, but the man’s gaze was on Prudence. Tanner had had enough practice playing the politician in Washington as he fought for statehood that he easily wrangled any awkwardness out of a conversation and smoothed it out. “He’s sharp as they come, if a bit wild from living his life out West. Boston will civilize him.”

      “I’ve no doubt of that, but let’s hope he keeps some of that wildness about him. Too much polish dulls the edges. We could use more men in the world like your sons.” She winked across the table at Hunter, who threw his head back and laughed.

      “I’ve missed you, Aunt Prudie. Never change.”

      “Oh, posh, you can’t have missed me too much. Seems you’ve kept yourself occupied.” She smiled at Emmy and brought her wineglass up in a toast before taking a dainty sip, causing Emmy to blush.

      Castillo couldn’t help but smile and took a drink from his own glass. Red wine wasn’t his first choice, but it went down smooth.

      Hunter smiled at Emmy, and Castillo wasn’t certain his brother was aware of the naked love and adoration on his face for everyone to see. Emmy practically glowed beneath the power of his gaze. Castillo had to look away from their obvious happiness. He didn’t begrudge them their love, but jealousy tore at him, digging its claws in deep.

      It wasn’t that he wanted Emmy for himself; it was that he wanted a wife. He wanted a family, love, devotion, the satisfaction of building a life together. All of that was supposed to have been his before his grandfather had been murdered and his home burned to the ground. In the years since, Castillo hadn’t been able to do anything more than fight to get back what was his. Looking for a wife wasn’t something he could consider right now. Especially when he only had danger and instability to offer her.

      Tanner cleared his throat. “Tell us more about your trip, Castillo. How were the Andersons?”

      For the first time, Caroline broke her silence. As soon as she opened her mouth, Castillo tensed, prepared to cover her mouth and drag her away from the table if he had to. “Yes, Mr. Jameson, I’d love to hear all about your trip.” She took a sip of her wine and shot him a challenging glance over the edge of her glass.

      That glance landed like a punch to his gut. Her eyes shone up at him like sapphires, and he wasn’t sure why she was taunting him, but something in him liked it. A lot. Taking a breath, Castillo launched into a general retelling of his trip to Boston. The tale had the benefit of allowing him to control the conversation, so he didn’t mind, but he kept an eye on Caroline. She made sure her comments were benign, but her eyes snapped at him. She was planning something, but he didn’t know what.

      “Did you take the train out?” she asked when he’d finished. Mary had just cleared their plates from the table, and Willy had given them bowls of hothouse strawberries with clotted cream. “Aunt Prudie and I took the number two train. You weren’t on that train, by chance? How serendipitous it would’ve been.”

      Castillo clenched his jaw so tightly he nearly saw stars. She was playing with


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