“And what if she keeps saying she loves me? I’m not going back to jail for her or anybody else. And I’ll not be cheated out of the ten grand.”
“There, you see, you can organize a few socials yourself. Take Chris and Prescott for a ride in the country. Help him court her. You’ll learn from him and he’ll learn from you.”
“And what about Sayers? What has he got to do with all this?”
“Don’t you think Rory would be a perfect match for your Chris? He’s rich, established, owns all that lovely timberland and Rory certainly doesn’t lack force. Maybe you could get Chris to marry him. I’m sure Mathison would approve and you’d get your ten thousand dollars.”
Ty didn’t say anything but picked up his empty whiskey glass and refilled it. “I can’t see Chris and Sayers together.”
“Oh, I can. Rory has so much personality and the women all adore him. You could take Chris and Rory and the handsome young man Mathison chose out in the country for the afternoon and just sit back and think about your ten thousand dollars. It’ll be the easiest money anyone ever made.”
“Chris may not like Sayers. She’s got taste. She’s a real lady. All her underclothes have her initials on them, not big and gaudy like Susie used to wear, but tiny initials done in white on white cloth. And Chris asks a lot of questions. She finds out about people. If Sayers tries a line on her, she’ll see through him.”
“But you’ll be there to smooth things over and help Rory over the rough spots, won’t you?”
“Chris isn’t all that easy to fool. You know that she figured out I was in pain? Even guessed that my feet were blistered from the damn new boots. And she put it all together and figured out about my being in jail.”
“Not like other women you’ve known, is she?” Red said softly.
Abruptly, Ty put his half full whiskey glass down. “Look, I got things to do. I’ll see you tonight for supper.”
“Yes, honey, you do that. Let’s eat at the hotel and invite your friends. Maybe I can help you get the money. I’ll make your Chris see what a charming gentleman has been chosen for her. And maybe we can invite Rory. He always livens up any gathering.”
“Yeah, well, maybe. Chris won’t like him, though. He’s all hot air.” He put his hand on the door. “And she’s not my Chris.”
“She is until you sell her to someone else.”
“Why do I feel like I’ve been run over by a twenty-car train? I’ll see you tonight.”
“At six at the hotel,” she called after him.
• • •
As Chris was dressing that evening, she noticed her underwear, looking at the initials on all of it and wondering when in the world Ty had had a chance to see it. He’s seen what’s under it, so what’s the difference in seeing the underwear, she wondered.
As she examined the lovely blue velvet gown Red had loaned her, with its tight waist, the skirt fitting snugly around her slim hips, and a little bustle in back, she thought about what she’d heard from Tynan that afternoon. He seemed such an odd contradiction of confidence and insecurity, she mused as she left the room.
At the foot of the hotel stairs waited Asher and another man who stepped forward instantly and introduced himself as Rory Sayers—and Chris felt that she knew all about him at once. He was the type of man her father had paraded before her for the first eighteen years of her life. He was handsome in a sharp sort of way: sharp nose, sharp chin, eyes a snapping blue. And he had more confidence than any six other men, confidence that Chris knew came from having had money all his life.
There was coolness behind her smile as she took his arm and allowed him to lead her into the dining room.
Dinner was a disaster. Rory dominated the meal, talking about everything that had been happening in the country in the last two years—the years that Ty had been in prison. And Tynan looked like a sulky little boy who was being punished by having to eat with the grownups.
For just a moment, Chris closed her eyes and prayed for strength.
“Of course you wouldn’t know about that, would you old man?” Rory said to Tynan who had his head bent over a plate heaped with pork chops. “You were a bit too busy over the
last two years to read the papers, weren’t you?”
Before Tynan could reply, Chris said, “I beg to differ with you, Mr. Sayers. Mr. Tynan has read all my articles. Perhaps he was selective in his reading.”
“Not Mr. Tynan,” Rory said with a smile. “I don’t believe he has another name.”
Chris could take no more. She couldn’t stand the man’s smugness or his catty remarks. She stood. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me as I have a splitting headache. Mr. Tynan, would you please escort me out into the fresh air? I think a walk will help clear my head.”
Rory Sayers rose, presumptuously taking Chris’s arm. “I’ll take you, Miss Mathison.”
With all the haughtiness she could muster, she jerked her arm from his grasp. “Sir, I only met you tonight. I do not entrust my safety to men I do not know. Mr. Tynan, would you mind?”