Prim And Improper. Liz Ireland. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Liz Ireland
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Историческая литература
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above his head and letting out a big yawn.

      “I’m glad you liked the meal,” she answered with definite reserve.

      “I didn’t say it was anything to crow about,” Ty retorted.

      The sheer audacity—

      “I thought it was wonderful,” Caleb said, looking anxiously at his brother.

      She sent her adversary a satisfied smile.

      “Cal would think that, since he did most of the cooking.”

      Louise’s cheeks heated in fury, but she couldn’t deny that Caleb had been a big help. It was clear that she had misjudged the young man on her previous visit to the ranch. He was twice the man his muscled-up brother was.

      Besides, she thought, remembering their roll in the mud mere days before, anyone was bound to slip on a rainy day.

      Ty got up and tromped out the back door without a word.

      “He usually smokes a cigar after dinner,” Cal explained. “I’ll help you clean up.”

      “That’s not necessary,” Louise told him. She also felt like assuring him that he didn’t have to explain his brother’s rude behavior. It wasn’t his fault, after all.

      “I insist,” he said, helping her clear the table.

      Caleb brought in water and kept her company as water heated over the stove. Later, as they stood over the filled sink washing dishes, he said, “Ty just hasn’t been himself lately.”

      Poor Cal. Louise’s heart went out to him. He probably led such an isolated life out here in the middle of nowhere with his brother that having someone actually observing them in their home was painful. And yet, their house showed signs of having had a civilizing influence sometime. There was a cabinet with china inside it in the sitting room, and a nice, finely carved sofa with velvet cushions, and several bookcases.

      “He’s just acting so strange because…because you remind him of Sally.” Caleb sighed. “He misses her so.”

      Louise pursed her lips disapprovingly. “He wouldn’t be missing her now if he hadn’t started seeing her on the sly to begin with!”

      The young man’s face turned crimson, and again her heart went out to him. It wasn’t his fault his brother was such a clod. “Don’t blame yourself, Caleb. It’s not as if you lured Sally out here, or poor impressionable Toby.”

      He wiped a plate dry and swallowed, his Adam’s apple making a long, tortured journey up and down his throat. “No,” he agreed hoarsely, “I had nothing to do with Toby.”

      “And I suppose I shouldn’t put all the blame on Ty, much as I’d like to. Sally was at fault, too.”

      A smile brightened Cal’s face. “Oh, I think Sally’s a marvelous girl.”

      Louise clucked her tongue unhappily. “She has a mischievous streak a mile wide. One your brother was perfectly willing to take advantage of, I might add.”

      The frown returned to Caleb’s face. “Please don’t blame her too much, Miss Livingston, or me—I mean, my brother—either. People can’t always control their reason when they’re in love.”

      It was practically the same little speech Toby had given her! “Are you telling me that Ty is in love with my sister?”

      “Oh, desperately!”

      She shook her head. “I’ve been here an entire day and he hasn’t even bothered to ask after her health.”

      “That’s because…” Caleb bit his lip, appearing to search for a plausible reason for yet another of his brother’s shortcomings. “Because he’s so much in love with her that he can’t bear to say her name.”

      “I can’t believe it,” Louise said. Somehow, it was much easier to think of the man as a heartless seducer than a lovelorn swain.

      “He’s been out of spirits ever since you came calling last week,” Cal said. His words had a ring of authenticity. “At night I can hear him pacing the floor.”

      She thought of Sally’s incessant hums, then shook her head.

      “It’s no wonder you can hear him, with the way he clumps around in those boots!” Yet the picture Cal was painting in her mind disturbed her. It would make sense that a man in love would lose sleep. Even her own thoughts had been keeping her awake lately, and she certainly couldn’t claim to be in love.

      She frowned. Could Ty actually be pining for her sister?

      Since her first encounter with the man, she had simply assumed that Ty had been using Sally, dallying with her young, vulnerable heart. And he’d led her to believe this was the case. But perhaps this had just been more of his bravado. Maybe she was keeping apart two people who were desperately in love.

      Spoiler wasn’t a role she relished. Though she had never been in love herself, and never expected to be, she had always known that someday Sally would find a husband. She looked forward to that day—and to being an aunt, too. Never, never had she meant to prevent her sister from finding happiness. She’d only hoped that Sally would be selective in her choice of mates.

      But judging from what she had seen of the house, its contents and the grounds, Ty Saunders did not live in barbaric circumstances, and would have little trouble supporting a wife. And according to Cal, his disposition was only disagreeable because of his pining away for Sally. And perhaps she was letting her own prejudices stand in Sally’s way. Some women preferred the, well, rustic type. If Ty truly loved Sally, the match wouldn’t be the terrible disaster that Louise had concluded at first that it would be.

      It would only be a small disaster.

      If Ty actually loved Sally.

      Ty frowned as he paced outside the house, the ash of his cigar glowing red in the darkness. Usually he enjoyed evenings—the peacefulness of night sounds, the satisfaction of having completed another day’s work, the prospect of a long night’s slumber. But tonight he savored none of those things. Instead, all he could think of was that woman. Louise.

      It hadn’t been difficult to pretend to be in a bad mood all day. Just looking at her did something to him. Irritated him, he guessed. He couldn’t get his work done. He couldn’t concentrate. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to get any sleep.

      He let out a groaning sigh, then chomped down on his cigar. They were one of the few items he bought at the Livingston Mercantile. Did Louise realize that? Did she know how much this customer of hers had secretly enjoyed going into town all these months?

      He’d never really given it much thought before now. But in the week since she’d galloped up his hill, he’d done little besides dwell on every moment they’d spent together over the years. Always, he had admired her, both for her looks and her sharp mind. And on occasions like that church social, he’d longed to tell her how much he wanted to see her more often, for something more than cigars.

      But a few quick rebuffs had cleared all thought of doing any such thing out of his mind. How could you approach a woman who clearly had her own ideas about how she was going to run her life? The answer was, you couldn’t. Not unless you were prepared to be rejected, just as she had rejected the idea of her sister falling in love with a Saunders. The idea still got him steamed.

      He couldn’t wait for this week of torture to be over. Hopefully, Cal and Sally would get married soon, take the house and land, and Ty could move somewhere far away and begin anew. Someplace that didn’t have a gorgeous headstrong female running the show.

      As if in answer to his thoughts, the front door opened and Louise appeared, alone. She lingered for a moment on the porch, probably expecting that he would come keep her company.

      She could just forget about that. He wasn’t making any friendly overtures.

      After silently watching him for several minutes,