Morrison squeezed her hand, the warm pressure comforting. “Don’t worry, little girl, I’ll deal with the police.” His reassuring smile vanished as he turned back to the woman blocking the stairs. “Sometimes I wish you would not be so confoundedly busy on my behalf.”
“Do you indeed? That could be arranged.”
“Look, I’ve got no time for a quarrel now. Could you step out of the way until I see that Miss Kavanaugh is looked after? Then you can snap at me as much as you please.”
A trace of pink stole into that icy white complexion. The woman’s gaze rested for a moment on Rory; then, with a chilling dignity, she moved away from the stairs and stalked off down the hall.
Rory shivered. No living being’s eyes should have been that cold. Rory felt as though the woman could have destroyed her as easily as brushing aside a speck of lint from her gown. An odd thought to have about such a refined-looking lady.
Rory turned to Zeke, who was following the woman’s retreat, a frown on his face.
“I am sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble between you and your...wife?”
“Mrs. Van Hallsburg is not my wife!” As Zeke glanced back at Rory, his expression lightened. “I am quite a free man, Miss Kavanaugh. And you are quite wet.”
He studied her as though he were having his first good look, and Rory realized with dismay that he probably was. Her damp gown outlined to perfection her breasts and the curve of her hips.
“Come on,” he said. “You’d better get out of those clothes.”
The statement sounded harmless enough, merely a civil suggestion. Why then did she have this feeling that Zeke Morrison should have his face slapped? He wasn’t doing anything, only looking.
Rory crossed her arms protectively in front of herself. “I don’t want to cause you any more bother. I am sure my assistants will track me here from the fairgrounds. We’ll move the balloon and try to set your lawn to rights. Of course I will pay?—”
Even as she started to promise, Rory wondered how she was ever going to do so. She bit down on her lip. The cost of the damages would likely bankrupt her.
“Don’t worry about that,” Zeke said. “I am sure we can work something out.”
His voice softened with the barest hint of suggestion, and Rory drew back in alarm. Just what did he have in mind?
Before she could protest any further, they were interrupted.
“Mr. Morrison,” the butler announced. “The police have arrived.”
Rory felt her heart skip and Morrison swore.
“They didn’t get here so fast last fall when I caught that burglar breaking into my safe.” He gave a sigh of pure annoyance. “Never mind, Wellington. I’ll meet with them in my study. You look after Miss Kavanaugh.”
“But what about my passengers and my balloon?” Rory protested. “I really can’t just?—”
“I’ll see to everything. You just run along like a good girl and do what you’re told,” Morrison said, striding away. He paused long enough to instruct his butler. “Send one of the maids to help Miss Kavanaugh out of her clothes. I’ll be right back.”
“Mr. Morrison!” Rory cried.
But having given these peremptory commands, Morrison was gone. She wanted to charge after him, inform him that she didn’t take orders as readily as his servants did. Yet it didn’tseem prudent to antagonize a man who had gone to confront the police on her behalf.
Rory raked her fingers through her damp hair in frustration. She sensed Morrison’s butler staring at her and whipped about to face him. If the man had been wearing a smirk, he was quick to stow it behind a deferential mask.
“If you would he pleased to follow me, miss.”
Rory wasn’t pleased, but she didn’t see what else she could do. She had no doubt that Tony was tracking the course of the balloon, probably half out of his mind with worry. But it might be hours before he found her, what with having to bring the wagon back across on the ferry, and make his way through the uptown traffic.
In the meantime, she could not just stand here, dripping water onto Morrison’s carpet.
“Lead on,” she said to the butler with a gesture of weary assent.
As she hobbled up the stairs after him, Rory had to grit her teeth. The endless rise of marble did her ankle no good at all. She was almost sorry she had refused to let Morrison carry her.
She sighed with relief when they reached the upper landing. The butler opened one of the imposing doors that lined the hall and bowed her inside.
