1863 Saratoga Summer Read online

  She gave them both a huffy look, sticking her nose into the air. She continued to look around for someone who was inappropriately dressed for a stay in this hotel. No one remotely resembled anyone of that nature. Where was Connor?

  She turned back to the clerk. “I’m sorry. I do not see him.”

  “There, madam, straight ahead,” he said before returning to his work.

  Sinead gazed up again. The tallest of the men, who peered at her, a man she didn’t know, approached her. He sported a big smile. She peeked around to see if another person stood behind her. Only the clerk, writing something on a paper, stood there, his head bent to his work.

  She looked up again. No, surely this couldn’t be Connor crossing the lobby. In large strides. With a swagger in his walk. She retreated until her back was against the counter. And studied the man carefully from beneath her lashes. The traces of discoloration under the piercing brown eyes were recognizable. The beard and longish hair were gone, along with much of the swelling.

  She drew in a deep breath. Conflicting emotions crawled up her throat and burned her face. She couldn’t bring herself to believe it was Connor who now stood directly in front of her.

  “Sinead, I was afraid you weren’t coming,” Connor said softly, a hint of worry in his voice. He gently took her elbow and drew her drew her away from the counter.

  “What is there to be afraid of?” she questioned. She refused to let herself be intimidated, either by his size or their marriage circumstances. “You are now my husband. I will obey your commands, if possible...” She broke off mid-point, caught up in a grip of confusing emotions.

  Puzzled at her expression, Connor pulled her to one side of the alcove, away from people who might overhear them. Two older women, who sat with their heads nearly touching, seemed to be watching the reunion. “I hope this is not the way our marriage is to be, with you merely obeying my rules. ‘Tis not what I’m wanting.” He smiled down at her. “I’m thinking you might have some commands of your own.”

  “A woman has little to say once she marries. And if she does, it’s generally to no avail in a world ruled by the stronger sex.”

  Connor drew back and stared at her, his head tilted to one side. “Lord, but you have a harsh attitude for such a young woman.” Although he hadn’t planned on touching her in any way yet, he laid a large hand on her arm. “But hear me well, I’ll bear with harshness for a brief time until you get your bearings in this marriage, but not forever, Sinead.”

  Sinead felt the color drain from her cheeks. “Fine,” she snapped then tore her arm away and straightened her body along with her dignity. “Anytime you’ve a mind to not deal with me, just let me know. I will burden you no further at that point.” Sinead, her head held high, moved away from him and walked into the middle of the lobby.

  Connor strolled after her, whispering in her ear. “Are you throwing the gauntlet at me, lass? If so, I’m not liking it very much.”

  “So very sorry. I thought I wasn’t supposed to just accept.” She wheeled around. “Perhaps, you spoke too quickly, or I did.” A myriad of emotions swept across her face, until only heat and anger remained.

  He leaned closer, his height closing out some of the lobby light. “Aye you did at that. I have no definite thoughts on your acceptance of what fate has handed us, but I don’t need your nastiness,” he snapped back. “The truth is the best way to handle problems.” As he berated her, he heard his voice, ugly with quick temper. He drew in a deep breath, slowly let it out and grinned. “Now, would you be liking some supper before we go to the room to discuss our situation?”

  Softly, with shadowed eyes, she answered him, ever so politely, through gritted teeth. “No thank you, Connor. I ate a bit of supper with Robbie when I brought him home.”

  Connor stepped back and studied her. Never quick to anger, he somehow lost his usual discipline and intelligence, those things learned when caring for horses. Connor knew he was baiting this slender woman and couldn’t understand the desire to provoke.

  His arms laced across his chest, in an effort to control the temper about to explode, he murmured, “Well then, will you be joining me in that little parlor over there? ‘Tis really a cage that carries a person up onto other floors of the hotel.”

  All eyes and trembling lower lip, Sinead nodded and whispered, “I’ve heard about those things but I’ve never been on one.” Staring at the contraption with great suspicion, watching it lurch up and down, while people streamed out through the bright brass grill doors, brought nausea. “Is it frightening to ride on that thing?”

  “Nae, ‘tis reasonably smooth until you come to your floor. It stops hard there, sometimes several good bumps before the operator gets the floor exactly right.” He touched her elbow. “Come, try it.”

  She opened her mouth to respond but nothing surfaced. The door slid open. The grating sound caused her to tremble. The idea of going up in the air with nothing underneath the flooring was perturbing, yet she followed the man who was her husband, hesitating before he stretched out his hand to help her into the steel cage.

  “Don’t be frightened.”

  His amused voice almost silenced the protest. “I’m not…” Sinead pressed lips together to hold back a denial. Once inside, the door slammed shut. She moved to the furthest corner and clutched the bars of the cage until the skin of her knuckles flashed bone white. As the device lifted them above the lobby floor, she drew in a deep breath and held it.

  Connor laughed, enjoying the reactions reflected in his wife’s face. “You don’t have to hold your breath or…”

  “How do you know what I have to do or not do?” Embarrassed at the too quick response in front of the young man handling the device, she bowed her head and mumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to growl at you.”

  Connor didn’t say anything or cock an eye, but his deep brown orbs flickered with amusement.

  They reached the fourth floor in a matter of minutes. Again, the person running the cage opened the door, which gave out a clattering squeal.

  Connor slid out the door and put his hand back in to help Sinead up a slight step.

  She trembled from the touch of his fingers curling around hers. A shivery thrill of apprehension created a wonder. What she might be afraid of, the parlor car or him?

  Connor dropped her hand, preceded down the long narrow corridor to their room and slipped the key into the lock. With little effort, the key turned, the door opened quietly and he ushered her inside by nodding his head toward the room.

  When he turned on the gaslight, the opulence of the room was a surprise. Sinead concealed the expression before Connor could notice. Throughout their life, the Brennan family moved from one relative’s house to another’s, both in Dublin and New York City.

  When they came to America, Da proclaimed he would find great wealth, in the horse business, but still she slept in other people’s beds, sharing the quarters of relatives. She never possessed a bed she alone chose, much less slept in by herself.

  And even in this opulent room, there was only one bed. Her gaze flicked from one side of the large room to another, searching for another bed. Would she have to share this one with the man she barely knew?

  All of a sudden, the stubborn streak, harbored but most often controlled, grew into complete resentment. Anger brought a flush to her face as if she was possessed by a demon leaping from cracks in the earth. She wanted to scream in rage, wail in pain, but, instead, she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to overpower the urge.

  “Well, lassie, we’re here. Why don’t you take off your shawl and sit?”

  “I will after a bit. I’ve developed a slight chill,” she lied, sweltering in the heat of the damp night but clutching the shawl closer.

  Her lungs felt thick with the closeness and humidity pressing into the room. She sensed Connor close behind, smelled the very essence of him and stepped away. She was uneasy, too uneasy to talk about anything of importance.

  Some sort of idle conversation migh
t fill the void. She walked to the window and looked out into the street. “Traffic is heavy tonight. That’s not usual for a Sunday.”

  Night fell, shrouding the sky in pink and purple shadows above the trees. The moon glowed like a fiery red ball, promising another day of overbearing heat.

  Sinead wished the hellish days of this heat wave would end. Perhaps then, Robbie and she, along with the rest of the Fifth Avenue mansion staff, could leave for the Dewitt’s summer home in Albany.

  Connor’s voice was hoarse and seemed to come from a great distance. “Lass, pay attention, please. I’m not here to beat you into to some sort of wifely submission to a husband’s lust.”

  Breath stuck in her throat. He delivered the statement with smooth skill. The force of his attention was unnerving. Her stomach clenched in distress. The knot turned to nausea. Was she wrong to assume the worst might happen? Sharp nails dug into the palms of each hand.

  “I thought if we could be alone for a few hours, we could talk. Perhaps, get to know something more about each other, since we’ve been coupled together with little regard for knowing.”

  Connor stood still, waiting for a reaction. When she didn’t answer, he continued. “A little knowledge never hurts between a husband and wife. And ‘tis a fact. I am your husband. You are my wife.”

  He stepped closer. “The Church blessed our marriage and we must live with that conclusion. Let’s proceed with what we know about the other.”

  He seems so sure of himself, she thought. She didn’t know how a husband and wife should act with one another, especially when they only knew each other a few hours. She brushed the hair away from damp temples. All she knew about marriage was learned from those within her family, days with the Cavanaughs and days of watching the Dewitts. How should she act?

  Her husband merely stared. What was he expecting? The carnal act that supposedly transpired between husband and wife? She already made a vow not to participate in such coupling until she was ready. This marriage was in name only, not unlike the marriage with Cavanaugh, who was so crippled he could not walk.

  In the space of a heartbeat, Connor moved closer to the window.

  A delicate shudder rippled up her back. Quivers of fear tore through her. Mustering the strength to face him, she wheeled around. “What are you doing?”

  “Lass, I’ve done nothing more than step to the window to enjoy the sights below with you.” He nonchalantly leaned against the window frame. “Perhaps, you’ll tell me about his city called New York. ‘Tis quite different from any city I’ve been in. Far too big, far too busy.”

  Conflicting emotions regarding their presence in this room annoyed and angered. She shrugged narrow, tense shoulders and turned her body to move him away. “What can I tell you? It moves. This city is in constant motion and ‘tis easy to get lost within it.”

  “I’ve seen that. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen so many carriages, carts and wagons clogging the streets.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “‘Tis too much activity for a simple farmer to understand.”

  Taking a breath, she raised her gaze to him. “I don’t understand this city myself. The politics are corrupt if the things I hear are true. There’s terrible unrest threatening to explode over the new draft laws.”

  “Why do you stay here then?”

  She tensed, hand tightening into a fist, but she managed to murmur, “For Robbie and my promise to bring him up in the Catholic faith.”

  Noticing the distress when she mentioned Robbie and seeking to change the subject, Connor said, in a conversational tone, “Tell me more about this city. If I am to stay here for a few weeks, I would know of those things I might have to face.”

  The tenseness she harbored since entering the room left when he changed the subject. She sighed, relaxed and softened her voice. “Sides are chosen by the people and alliances made in the conducting of business, which affect the entire world. People work to secure money, more to buy the new items that appear every day than to feed their children. The city moves far too fast for me. I feel like I’m running but I can never catch up with what’s happening on those streets.”

  Connor grinned. “Then perhaps, you’d not be averse to returning to Ireland with Egan and me?”

  He cradled her chin in the crook of his finger, tipped her head back until she was forced to look into brown eyes that assessed. He put a hand on her shoulder.

  She inched away from him, feeling the imprint of his hand burning through her clothing. Glancing up and noticing three upholstered chairs grouped around a small round table, she darted to them and sat in the one furthest from the window. She refused to look up.

  Connor shrugged and turned to watch his new wife. Every small gesture he made, she rejected. Puzzled by the woman’s reactions to him, he pondered what to do next then sat on the edge of a window seat set in a curved part of the window. All he could do is stare at her extraordinary beauty.

  Connor understood his intent gaze made her nervous, obvious in every move away. What would relax her enough to talk to him? He stepped toward the chair. Something softened in him when he noticed a scowl of resignation on her face.

  “Come, let me show you the rest of the room. It will be a surprise.”

  She stood and he went into the bathroom first, where a large tub on clawed feet sat near the wall. He moved forward to turn on the taps. Warm water gushed from the faucet.

  Sinead jumped back. “Oh, my.” She looked at him with great wonder. Excitement lit her eyes. “Would you mind terribly if I took a bath?” Heat burned in her cheeks. “I don’t get much of a chance for a full bath at the Dewitt’s. Robbie gets too frantic when I’m not around him.”

  A tiny bell went off in his mind. He directed the full force of his gaze on her. “Robbie is their grandson. Am I not correct?”

  She nodded.

  “Then why can’t his mother find the time to bathe properly, in a house like the Dewitt’s, a house which probably has many servants? I’m afraid I don’t understand the whole situation.”

  Her gaze drifted away, back to the tub. “It’s complicated.”

  “I’ll tell you what. You take a long, hot soak, while I finish reading my paper then we’ll talk some more, if that is alright with you.”

  Again, she nodded but didn’t speak. Connor left the room and heard the key turn in the bathroom lock. He strolled back to the window and peered into the darkness. A second later, he spun around toward the bathroom, charged across the room and lifted his hand to knock on the door. Not a clever notion, he thought and wondered how he could possibly make the rest of this night tolerable.

  ~*~

  Sinead came out of the bath, fully dressed, and looking refreshed. She smiled. “That was so lovely. I thank you for it.”

  Connor was struck by the joy radiating from such a dainty person. “Lass, you don’t have to thank me. I like the fact that you can relax in my presence. Would you like something to eat or would you prefer to retire now?”

  Sinead gasped, jerked her head up and stepped backward. A hand came up to hide her mouth. “I’ll not be sleeping in that bed with the likes of you,” she said, a flash of concern registering on a surprised face.

  Her skin took on a deeper, rosier glow. Exasperation filled him at the stubborn defense of herself. “I’m sorry. There’s only one bed in this room.”

  “Then take it yourself. I don’t even know you. If you think I will sleep with a man I do not even know, you’re more foolish than I thought you to be.”

  Concern mixed with bewilderment, wavering between a desire to comfort and anger. “And where will you sleep?”

  In a tone edged with quiet panic, she answered. “On a chair. I’ve done that before when my son has been ill.”

  Connor moved forward, turned away then faced her again. He ran his hand through his hair. “That’s something you’ll have to explain to me so I can understand your situation better, for something doesn’t seems to settle itself properly in my mind. The Dewitts are young Robbie’s
grandparents. Right?”

  A deathly hue leached all the color from her cheeks. “I don’t feel like discussing this now,” she mumbled.

  Sinead marched past, nearly elbowing him to one side. She thrust into the chair she used earlier, angling it so her back was against the wall.

  The defiant look she shot in his direction brought heat to Connor’s face. He followed and folded his long body into the chair facing the one on which she sat. Only a small table stayed between them. He stretched his legs, until they protruded under the table and watched her draw hers back.

  Connor studied his wife with a tense, predatory look. Pink suffused her cheeks. She was beautiful but seemed to possess an otherworldly quality, like many Irish women, ethereal yet physical and earthy at the same time, as if at any moment, the air might part to reveal a different world beyond.

  This woman came into his life and upset the balance he’d worked so hard to achieve, upset his entire life. And now, she didn’t feel like discussing the problems? Holding back his strong emotions, he glared. His mouth tightened into a grim line. His mind brooded. He was unaccustomed to asking a question more than once and grimaced at his own awkwardness, uncertain how he wanted to proceed, but proceed he would.

  Slowly, relentlessly, he flexed his large hands before saying, “I’ll ask you again. This time I’ll be expecting an answer. The Dewitts are young Robbie’s true grandparents. Right?”

  Comprehension entered her eyes. “Aye,” she answered, eyes downcast.

  He intended to further invade the protected private space and pushed his way into the cave of her mind. “And Cavanaugh was Robbie’s father?”

  A terrible choice reverberated through heart and soul, to lie or not. Owl-eyed and harried, she answered. “Aye.”

  “And yet, you are not, in any way, related to the Dewitts. Is that not so?”

  Sinead twisted in her chair and scowled fiercely. She fixed him with a stormy gaze. “What is it you want to know so badly but will not ask me outright?” Noisy, breathy, like rushing wind, the high-pitched question slapped off the walls and reverberated throughout the room.