the culture, education, and comfortable living of society mixed with the new ideas and expanding roles of women.
She'd write of Lord Allen in the telegram she was to send to her father, making sure to mention the reactions people had to hearing her betrothed's name. If Jackson Mercer turned out to be the brutal, base man she feared him to be, perhaps her father would change his mind to someone more suitable.
----
J ackson tapped his fingers against his thumb one at a time as Olivia's emerald eyes danced after Lord Allen, and he wanted to rip the slick dandy limb by limb. Everyone in town swooned over him, including the bartenders and miners. There was no one that didn't love and respect Lord Allen. He spoke of better working conditions, better pay, and had everyone's heads spinning with dreams of the future.
He took a deep breath and frowned as he considered the situation. Lady Tarrington, as lovely as she was, was what his mother wanted, not him. He had no desire to marry well and join polite society. The solitude of his cabin in the pines was what he wanted. No one judged him there, there were no tangled knots between right and wrong, and no one to take care of or worry about except himself.
Virginia City was the Montana Territory Capital, but it was still widely lawless and no place for a delicate lady like Lady Tarrington. Jackson looked again at the slender angel in white and made up his mind. The best thing to do was to encourage Lady Tarrington to leave.
"This way, ah, milady," said Jackson with a sweep of an arm.
Lady Dubuque furrowed her brow. "Lady Olivia."
Jackson clenched his fist as his mind repeated the musical name like a tune that wouldn't let him go. He turned toward a narrow side street and ushered the ladies ahead of him. They ducked underneath the dripping laundry from the wash house and picked their way through the rickety side stalls of the smaller merchants. At the far corner was Chinese man selling ducks, plucked and strung up in sagging rows.
He was hoping to scare her, and when Olivia raised a hand to her lips, he assumed it was in shock. At second glance he caught a smile that danced on the edges of her lips. He followed her gaze to a small group of ragged urchins playing school.
A tall girl with a rat's nest for hair addressed the others in an imperial tone. "You have to listen to me because I'm the teacher."
"Why do you get to be the teacher?" asked boy with muddy cheeks.
She puffed her cheeks. "Because I'm the only one that can do any sums."
The children gasped in delight as Olivia approached them. She began to speak to them when the little boy with muddy cheeks grabbed his friend and whispered loudly.
"He's one of them. A Knifeman, a real one. My pa said so."
His scrawny friend stuck his tongue out at him. "How's your pa know?"
"He said he saw him the night our stall burned down."
Olivia stepped back, looped her arm through Lady Dubuque's, and said, "I think we'll go this way."
The ladies weaved their way through another alley back toward Main Street. The little boys’ eyes were still on him, but when he turned to look back they scattered.
The side jaunt didn't faze Olivia at all. When Jackson caught up with them, she was talking with Lady Dubuque about schooling for the children.
Her voice was low pitched, and she had a faraway look in her eye. "Perhaps I could volunteer at the school, or tutor a few of the older girls."
Lady Dubuque patted Olivia on the arm. "If you have time, my dear." With a twinkle of mischief in her eye she added, "Husbands have a way of taking up a wife's extra time."
Olivia sighed and rolled her eyes. "I hope my husband approves of helping our community, regardless of the fact that I am a woman. It is the 1900s, after all."
Jackson smiled to himself as he followed the ladies back down Main Street. Lady Tarrington had pluck, and he could admire that, but he still thought it best to send her packing. His presence was enough to hold back cheerful
She'd write of Lord Allen in the telegram she was to send to her father, making sure to mention the reactions people had to hearing her betrothed's name. If Jackson Mercer turned out to be the brutal, base man she feared him to be, perhaps her father would change his mind to someone more suitable.
----
J ackson tapped his fingers against his thumb one at a time as Olivia's emerald eyes danced after Lord Allen, and he wanted to rip the slick dandy limb by limb. Everyone in town swooned over him, including the bartenders and miners. There was no one that didn't love and respect Lord Allen. He spoke of better working conditions, better pay, and had everyone's heads spinning with dreams of the future.
He took a deep breath and frowned as he considered the situation. Lady Tarrington, as lovely as she was, was what his mother wanted, not him. He had no desire to marry well and join polite society. The solitude of his cabin in the pines was what he wanted. No one judged him there, there were no tangled knots between right and wrong, and no one to take care of or worry about except himself.
Virginia City was the Montana Territory Capital, but it was still widely lawless and no place for a delicate lady like Lady Tarrington. Jackson looked again at the slender angel in white and made up his mind. The best thing to do was to encourage Lady Tarrington to leave.
"This way, ah, milady," said Jackson with a sweep of an arm.
Lady Dubuque furrowed her brow. "Lady Olivia."
Jackson clenched his fist as his mind repeated the musical name like a tune that wouldn't let him go. He turned toward a narrow side street and ushered the ladies ahead of him. They ducked underneath the dripping laundry from the wash house and picked their way through the rickety side stalls of the smaller merchants. At the far corner was Chinese man selling ducks, plucked and strung up in sagging rows.
He was hoping to scare her, and when Olivia raised a hand to her lips, he assumed it was in shock. At second glance he caught a smile that danced on the edges of her lips. He followed her gaze to a small group of ragged urchins playing school.
A tall girl with a rat's nest for hair addressed the others in an imperial tone. "You have to listen to me because I'm the teacher."
"Why do you get to be the teacher?" asked boy with muddy cheeks.
She puffed her cheeks. "Because I'm the only one that can do any sums."
The children gasped in delight as Olivia approached them. She began to speak to them when the little boy with muddy cheeks grabbed his friend and whispered loudly.
"He's one of them. A Knifeman, a real one. My pa said so."
His scrawny friend stuck his tongue out at him. "How's your pa know?"
"He said he saw him the night our stall burned down."
Olivia stepped back, looped her arm through Lady Dubuque's, and said, "I think we'll go this way."
The ladies weaved their way through another alley back toward Main Street. The little boys’ eyes were still on him, but when he turned to look back they scattered.
The side jaunt didn't faze Olivia at all. When Jackson caught up with them, she was talking with Lady Dubuque about schooling for the children.
Her voice was low pitched, and she had a faraway look in her eye. "Perhaps I could volunteer at the school, or tutor a few of the older girls."
Lady Dubuque patted Olivia on the arm. "If you have time, my dear." With a twinkle of mischief in her eye she added, "Husbands have a way of taking up a wife's extra time."
Olivia sighed and rolled her eyes. "I hope my husband approves of helping our community, regardless of the fact that I am a woman. It is the 1900s, after all."
Jackson smiled to himself as he followed the ladies back down Main Street. Lady Tarrington had pluck, and he could admire that, but he still thought it best to send her packing. His presence was enough to hold back cheerful
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