He muttered under his breath. “What good is all the trouble we’ve gone to if you don’t remember to hide your real identities?”
Placing a sheltering arm around his wife’s slim shoulders Aaron stood firm. “She said she was sorry, Thorne. What’s done is done. I’m sure a simple hotel maid isn’t smart enough to engage in subterfuge.”
“Hah! Any fool could see that that woman is no simpleton. Nor is she a maid. She said she and her father are hotel guests, not staff, so don’t discount her capabilities or count on her loyalty.”
Weeping, Naomi knelt to draw the boy into her embrace while Aaron began to pace the floor of the small, sparsely furnished bedroom.
“Don’t worry,” Thorne said firmly. “I’ll take care of it. If the woman can’t be reasoned with, she can probably be bribed or threatened.”
“You sound just like Father!” Aaron blurted.
Thorne’s eyes narrowed and his countenance darkened with barely repressed anger. “Never say that again, do you hear? I won’t be compared with that man. He’s your father, not mine.”
“But you’ve obviously learned from him,” the younger man countered.
“No. I’ve learned from years on my own and from the writings of my real father.” Noting the shock on Aaron’s face, he went on. “Are you surprised? I was. Shortly before I left home, Mother told me all about her brief marriage to my late father and where I might locate the rest of the Blackwell family.”
“Did you?”
“Yes, eventually. I didn’t seek out my grandfather until I’d spent a few years at sea and felt I’d proved myself.” And had faced death more than once. “Grandfather and I didn’t have much time together before he died but we got along very well. He gave me my father’s journal, as well as willing me enough money to buy into a partnership on my first freighter.”
“So that’s how you became successful.”
“No,” Thorne countered, “I could have squandered my inheritance in any number of ways. The investments I made, instead, were based on my experience at sea, not on mere wishful thinking. I knew exactly what I was doing and lived frugally. That’s what I was trying to explain when I returned to New York three years ago. But no one would listen to me, not even you.”
Thorne noted Aaron’s pained expression. It was during that short visit that Thorne had met and fallen in love with Naomi but she had chosen to wed the younger brother, presumably because Aaron was in line to inherit the Ashton fortune.
Squaring his shoulders, Thorne faced him. “Forget the past. It’s your future that counts. Leave the details to me. We’ve come this far together and I’ll see to it that your foolish mistakes don’t sink our ship, so to speak.”
Naomi raised her reddened face to him, tears glistening on her cheeks, and whispered, “Thank you.”
It was all Thorne could do to keep from tempering his harsh expression as he gazed at her. She was suffering for her poor choices and for that he was sorry, but, as he had finally realized when he’d encountered her again, any tender feelings he had once harbored were long gone and he was therefore loath to display any tenderness that might mislead her.
If anything good came out of this fiasco, perhaps it was that it had finally freed his heart from the fetters of unrequited love and had given him a chance to make amends with his brother over almost stealing his betrothed.
Charity was climbing the stairs, one hand raising the hem of her calico frock and apron as she stepped, the other balancing a glass of milk on a plate with two freshly baked cookies. As she neared the landing, a shadow fell over her.
Her head snapped up. The mysteriously intriguing stranger blocked her path. “Oh! You startled me.”
Thorne didn’t give way.
“Excuse me, please,” Charity said politely. “I have some treats to deliver.”
“I’ll take that for you.”
As he reached for the small plate she held it away. “No need. I can manage nicely.”
“But you’re a guest here. You shouldn’t be doing chores.”
That brought a smile. “Actually, I started out as a guest about a year ago when my father decided to move to San Francisco. Since then, I’ve taken a part-time position helping the proprietress, Mrs. Montgomery, to pay for Papa’s and my room and board.”
One dark eyebrow arched as he said, “Really? I would have thought, considering the dearth of eligible women in these parts, you’d have found yourself a suitably rich husband by now.”
She could feel the warmth rising to redden her cheeks. “You assume a lot, sir.”
“My apologies if I’ve offended you,” Thorne said as he stepped aside and gestured. “After you.”
Spine stiff, steps measured, Charity led the way to the room the family occupied. Behind her she could sense the imposing presence of the man Naomi had called Thorne. He was well named, Charity decided, since he was definitely a thorn in her side—probably to everyone he met. Clearly he was used to getting his own way. Equally as clearly, he was not used to being challenged by anyone, let alone a woman.
He placed his hand on the knob of the door she sought and stood very still.
“May I?” she asked boldly.
“In a moment. First, I must ask for your discretion, particularly regarding my brother’s family. We’re traveling in secret and must therefore guard our true identities judiciously.”
Charity’s chin jutted out, her head held high. “And your point is?”
“Simply that we require your silence. Since you’re a working woman, perhaps a generous gift would help you forget you ever saw us.”
She drew herself up to her full height of five and a half feet, noting that the top of her head, even piled high with her blond curls, barely came to the man’s shoulder. Nevertheless, she was determined to give him a piece of her mind. How dare he try to bribe her!
“Sir,” she said fervently, “I have promised Naomi that I would keep her secret and so I will, but it is because she asked me for my silence, not because your money interests me in the slightest. Is that clear?”
Thorne bowed from the waist as he said, “Perfectly.”
“Good. Because there is a hungry, tired little boy waiting for this food and no bully in a fancy brocade vest is going to stop me from delivering it to him. Am I making myself understood?”
A slight smile started to twitch at the corners of his mouth and Charity couldn’t decide whether or not he was about to laugh at her. Since she didn’t want to spill the milk, she sincerely hoped she was not going to have to balance it and slap his face at the same time for unseemly behavior.
His dark eyes glistened as the smile developed. To Charity’s dismay she found him quite handsome when he wasn’t frowning or trying to appear so menacing.
Averting her gaze she nodded toward the closed door. “May I go in?”
“Of course.” He rapped twice, then paused a moment before opening the door for her and standing back to let her pass.
The child had already fallen asleep on the bed. Aaron stood facing the only window, staring into the street below. Naomi was the only one who looked happy to see Charity. She smiled. “Oh, thank you!”
“It’s my pleasure. I’ll leave this plate on the dresser for your son when he wakes,” Charity said, speaking quietly. “There’s fresh water in the ewer on the washstand. Is there anything else I can do for you?”