Page 7 of Just Imagine
She’d already learned that Sunday was the only night Mrs. Simmons and Magnus didn’t sleep in the house. Mrs. Simmons had the day off and stayed with her sister, and Magnus spent the night in what Mrs. Simmons described as a drunken and debauched manner unfit for young ears. Kit needed to hold her tongue for four days. Then, when Sunday night came, she was going to kill the Yankee bastard who was gazing down at her with those cool gray eyes.
“If you think you’d be happier working for somebody else, I can always find another stable boy.”
“Didn’t say I wanted to work for anybody else,” she muttered.
“Then maybe you’d better try a little harder to hold your tongue.”
She kicked the dirt with the dusty toe of her boot.
“And, Kit?”
“Yeah?”
“Take a bath. People are complaining about the way you smell.”
“A bath!” Kit’s outrage nearly choked her, and she could barely hold onto her temper.
Cain seemed to be enjoying her struggle. “Was there anything else you wanted to say to me?”
She clenched her teeth and thought about the size of the bullet hole she intended to leave in his head. “No, sir,” she mumbled.
“Then I’ll need the carriage at the front door in an hour and a half.”
As she walked Apollo around the yard, she released a steady stream of profanity. Killing that Yankee was going to give her more pleasure than anything she’d done in all her eighteen years. What business was it of his whether she took a bath or not? She didn’t hold with baths. Everybody knew they made you susceptible to influenza. Besides, she’d have to take off her clothes, and she hated seeing her body ever since she’d grown breasts because they didn’t fit who she wanted to be.
A man.
Girls were soft and weak, but she’d erased that part of herself until she’d become strong and tough as any man. As long as she didn’t lose sight of that, she’d be just fine.
She was still feeling out of sorts as she stood between the heads of the matched gray carriage horses and waited for Cain to emerge from the house. She’d splashed water on her face and changed into her spare set of clothes, but they weren’t any cleaner than the ones she’d abandoned, so she didn’t see what difference it made.
As Cain came down the steps, he took in his stable boy’s patched breeches and faded blue shirt. If anything, he decided the kid looked worse. He studied what he could see of the boy’s face beneath the brim of that mangled hat and decided his chin might be a little cleaner. He probably shouldn’t have hired the scamp, but the boy made him smile like nothing else had for longer than he could remember.
Unfortunately, the afternoon’s activity would be less amusing. He wished he hadn’t let Dora maneuver him into taking her for a drive through Central Park. Even though they’d both known the rules from the start, he was beginning to believe she wanted a more permanent relationship, and he suspected she’d take advantage of the privacy their ride offered to press him. Unless they had company . . .
“Climb in the back, boy. It’s about time you saw something of New York City.”
“Me?”
He smiled at the boy’s astonishment. “I don’t see anybody else around. I need somebody to hold the horses.” And to forestall an invitation from Dora to be a permanent member of the Van Ness family.
Kit gazed up into the Yankee’s gray, Rebel-killing eyes, then swallowed hard and swung herself into the leather-upholstered seat. The less time she spent in his presence, the better, but he had her trapped.
As he expertly maneuvered the carriage through the streets, Cain pointed out the city’s attractions, and her pleasure in the new sights began to overcome her caution. They passed Delmonico’s famous restaurant and Wallach’s Theatre, where Charlotte Cushman was appearing in Oliver Twist. Kit glimpsed the fashionable shops and hotels that surrounded the lush greenery of Madison Square, and, farther north, she studied the glittering mansions of the wealthy.
Cain drew up in front of an imposing brownstone. “Watch the horses, boy. I won’t be long.”
At first Kit didn’t mind the wait. She surveyed the houses around her and watched the sparkling carriages with their well-dressed occupants flash by. But then she thought of Charleston, reduced to rubble, and the familiar bitterness rose inside her.
“A perfect day for a drive. And I have the most amusing story to tell you.”
Kit looked up to see an elegant woman with shining blond curls and a pretty, pouting mouth come down the steps on Cain’s arm. She was dressed in strawberry silk and held a lacy white parasol to protect her pale skin from the afternoon sun. A tiny froth of a bonnet perched on top of her head. Kit detested her on sight.
Cain helped the woman into the carriage and politely assisted her with her skirts. Kit’s opinion of him sank even lower. If this was the kind of woman he fancied, he wasn’t as smart as she’d figured.
She put her scuffed boot on the iron step and swung herself into the rear seat. The woman jerked around in astonishment. “Baron, who is this filthy creature?”
“Who’re you callin’ filthy?” Kit sprang from the seat, her hands balled into fists.
