Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

J oseph seethed. He had to find Holly’s brother and see him brought to justice. He couldn’t stand the thought of her living in fear because of the lout. But could he have him arrested? He’d need proof if he was to put the man behind bars. That is, if he could even find him. For all he knew Randall Turtledove had left Denver. Then again, would he give up tracking down his sister so easily? Especially if she cost him a beating from an upset bidder?

Perhaps he should ask Mrs. Pettigrew about the man she hired to find Holly’s brother. Joseph would help him if he could.

He’d read to Holly until she was too tired to continue and left her in the care of Mrs. Pettigrew and her staff. He would return tomorrow and if Holly was up to it, show her around Mrs. Pettigrew’s home. He asked the matchmaker’s permission before he left, and she happily gave it. A little tour would do Holly good and help get her mind off things. Besides, he’d always wanted to explore the mansion, and this was his chance to do so.

He went to his family’s place of business, worked for a time, had a meeting with his father to go over a few things, then attended an opera that night. But all he could think about was Holly’s wide-eyed look when he told her he’d protect her. She was obviously not used to a man wanting to protect her. Quite the opposite.

Every time he thought about her brother mistreating her, he wanted to either beat the man to a pulp or shoot him. But no, Randall Turtledove needed to face justice and be sentenced like any other criminal.

By the time morning rolled around, Joseph imagined a dozen different outcomes to the horrid man’s trial. But picturing Holly’s brother rotting in prison the rest of his life or hanging from the highest gallows did nothing to still the gnawing in his heart. No, there was only one thing that would do that, and it was Holly herself.

He dressed, told his father he had a meeting this morning and would come to the office later, then headed straight for Mrs. Pettigrew’s.

Once Tugs ushered him into the drawing room, he paced in front of the Christmas tree as he waited for Holly to be brought down. He didn’t bring a book today as he figured the tour would tire her. Perhaps he’d take her to the library first, let her see Mrs. Pettigrew’s collection of books and sit with her in front of the fire there. Then they could inspect some of the other rooms in the house.

“Joseph,” Holly said with a hint of cheerfulness. His chest swelled at the sound. She was happy to see him.

“Holly.” He met her in the middle of the drawing room. “You look better today.” He took in her cranberry-colored dress trimmed with black lace and black buttons. “My, but that’s a lovely dress.” He held her hands and noticed they were cold. “Do you need a shawl? Your hands are like ice.”

She shook her head. “I’m a little chilled but will be fine.”

He frowned. “Abigail, fetch Holly something to keep her warm.”

“Right away, Mr. Bradshaw.” The maid hurried from the room, heading for the stairs.

“While she’s getting you a shawl, let’s have you sit.” He guided Holly to her chair by the fire. “Now you can warm up.” He knelt before her and rubbed her hands with his.

“My hands are cold, but the rest of me doesn’t feel so bad,” she said.

“Even so, I don’t like the fact they’re so chilled. Hold them toward the fire.”

She did as he asked, and he took his usual chair next to hers. “You’ll enjoy the library.”

Holly smiled. “Mrs. Pettigrew was telling me about it this morning. She’s going to have Abigail serve us tea there.”

“Good. We’ll spend some time in the library, then if you’re feeling up to it, explore more of the house. If not, you can return to your room to rest.”

“Thank you,” she said, and he caught the sincerity in her voice. “I know there are other things you could be doing this morning. Mrs. Pettigrew told me you and your father own several businesses. I’m sure they keep you busy.”

“Indeed, they do. But you are… important to me,” he said. “I want to spend time with you.”

Her eyes went wide with disbelief, and it made his gut twist. Did she think all men were bad? Of course, considering that her own flesh and blood tried to sell her for money, could he blame her?

She didn’t comment as Abigail returned with a heavy shawl for Holly. “Here ye are. This will keep ye nice and warm.”

Joseph took it from her, pulled Holly to her feet, and put the shawl around her shoulders. “Better?”

Holly pulled it close. “This is nice. Thank you, Abigail.”

The maid bobbed a curtesy. “I’ll make sure your tea is being prepared.” She smiled at Holly and left the drawing room.

Joseph put a hand to the small of her back. “Shall we?” He motioned to the grand foyer.

Holly’s eyes brightened, making his chest warm. “Yes.”

Joseph gave her the gentlest of nudges with his hand and they were off. They stopped in the grand foyer first, and he told her what he knew of the portraits there, then led her down the hall toward the sets of French doors that looked out over the back of the property. He stopped before them. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Holly’s eyes rounded to saucers. “Y-you carried me all this way?!”

He smiled as his chest swelled with pride. It was silly really; he was doing what needed to be done at the time. But the wonder in her eyes was hard to miss. “You were in trouble.”

“Yes, I…suppose…”

He almost laughed. “A few more hours and who knows what would have happened to you. Thank Heaven Mr. Prosser found you when he did.”

“Mr. Prosser? Who is that?”

“Mrs. Pettigrew’s stable master.”

She gave him a slow nod. “I should thank him.”

“I can have that arranged.” Joseph took her by the elbow and steered her left down another hall.

“The library is this way?” she asked.

“Yes.” He turned left again and opened a heavy wooden door. “Mrs. Pettigrew’s library.”

Holly’s jaw dropped. “Oh my!”

Joseph smiled. Mrs. Pettigrew should be enjoying this, and he belatedly realized how much he was. Anyone else in his circle of friends would think nothing of a library. But to Holly, he might as well have just given her the moon.

She stepped inside, eyes wide and jaw slack, and turned a full circle. “There are so many books!”

“Indeed, there are. I think Mrs. Pettigrew has one of, if not the biggest library in Denver.”

She gravitated toward the fire pulling the shawl closer and continued to take in their surroundings. The library was richly appointed with dark woods, green and brown leather furniture and paintings of hunting scenes and country manors. There was a pickax hanging over the fireplace, and Joseph wondered how long it would take Holly to notice it.

Xavier Pettigrew’s desk sat at the other end of the room near a window with cranberry colored velvet curtains with tasseled green ties.

“What a lovely room,” Holly commented. “So masculine, yet so cozy.”

“As I understand it, Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew spent a lot of time in here together. Mr. Pettigrew was very fond of reading, so is Mrs. Pettigrew.”

She went to one of the leather wing chairs near the fire and sank into it. “It feels good to sit again. I’m weaker than I thought.”

He took the other chair. “It’s quite all right. We can enjoy some tea then you can return to your room to rest.”

She nodded in agreement and sat back, closing her eyes. He hoped he wasn’t wearing her out. But she needed a little outing, even if it was the library.

Abigail brought their tea along with some lovely raisin scones and clotted cream and jam and prepared them each a cup. As soon as she was done, she bobbed a curtsy and was off again.

Holly sat, cup and saucer in hand, and smiled as she stared at the fire.

“Better?” Joseph asked.

“Yes, much.” She looked at him. “I hope I’m not boring you.”

“No, not at all.” He sipped his tea and realized he wasn’t bored in the slightest. “So, what do you like to read?”

She blushed.

“Oh, don’t tell me… The Princess and the Pirate ?”

Her blush deepened. “I admit, I’ve not read a book like that before, but I think it’s becoming my favorite.”

“So, adventure and romance. Daring heroes, damsels in distress…”

“The princess is hardly a damsel. She’s clobbered more than a few bad men already.”

“Ah,” he said wagging a finger at her. “But had she not had that frying pan, they’d have subdued her for certain.”

Holly shrugged. “But she’d have been rescued.”

“By whom? Our hero hasn’t arrived yet. His ship hasn’t docked. Who would rescue her?”

She lowered her gaze. “Oh, you have a good point.” When Holly looked at him, she was frowning. “But she got out of her predicament herself. It’s good to be able to rescue yourself.” She swallowed hard. “Many times, there’s no one else you can depend on.”

He scooted to the end of his chair. “Here now, don’t think about what happened. You did admirably escaping your brother the way you did. Now concentrate on getting well, beginning your new job for Mrs. Pettigrew, and creating a life for yourself.”

She looked him in the eyes. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is. You needn’t worry about things.”

“But I do, Joseph. I can’t help it.” She sipped her tea then let go a weary sigh. “I’ve worried all my life about so many things. Where the next bit of food was coming from. Where to find water, will we have enough money, is there enough wood for the fire?” She closed her eyes. “I don’t know anything else.”

He stared at her pale face and the way her lashes rested against her skin. She reminded him of a delicate porcelain doll in that moment, one that needed protection from everything that could harm it.

“Now you won’t have to,” he said gently. “You’ll see.”

Holly opened her eyes and smiled. “I so hope you’re right, Joseph.”