The mere word bachelor causes me to grind my teeth. There has to be a better description for these buffoons pursuing Rainey. “Even though this entire arranged marriage process is futile and inane?”
“To place your concentration in one area would be foolish. There’s no harm in socializin’ with these respectful men,” Étienne rationalizes.
It’s hard to say if years of marriage or being a father has turned my brother this way. He’s still the terrifying Étienne everyone knows him to be, but there’s a genial side. Right now, I need the terrifying side, who sees these men for what they really are. I have more respect in my pinky finger than any of those men.
“I’m placin’ my focus in one area because I already know what will happen. The bachelors will discover Rainey’s tenacious personality and run for the hills. And then Rainey will sour from the experience.”
“And does all your focus require you to arrive to each event Rainey’s at with one of her bachelors?”
“No.”
My brother’s face remains expressionless save for a single arched brow.
“You don’t have faith in me. That’s fine,” I say.
“It’s not that. I just believe you should speak with Rainey and be honest. Far easier than chasin’ after her from place to place.”
Étienne has a valid point. Perhaps, I can remind Rainey, very calmly, that I’m still reviewing the ledgers, and she doesn’t have to continue with this madness. However, I’m not about to mention that to my brother. I stand and give Étienne a confident smile. “Soon you will see I’m correct in this.”
“Absolutely,” Étienne mutters behind me. “Because even a stopped clock is right twice in a day.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rainey
Last night after Étienne, Serene, and Beau dropped me off at home, Beau was ever the gentleman and escorted me to the front door. He settled for kissing the knuckles of my left hand, and I felt … nothing.
Not a single thing.
My heart quickened more when I traced words on Livingston’s palm.
I wasn’t willing to bid adieu to Beau Legare. He seemed so perfect, and it’s not as though I dedicated the whole night to get to know him as I should have. Most of my time was compromised by Livingston.
As I laid in bed last night, I mulled over each bachelor. I didn’t know all of them by name. Some of them I did. Rather, I recognized them by their faces. Which made me feel ostentatious, but maybe it was better this way. My date with Beau made it abundantly clear that sometimes my mind can get ahead of itself. Perhaps, after the second date, then I can learn their name.
It sounds harsh even to my own ears, but I desire a spark. I desire chemistry. I merely desire the rush of desire.
Like with Livingston, I think to myself and immediately take back the thought. My God, where did that come from? The two of us are like oil and water, as opposite as black and white. What tingled one night might not be there the next.
“Rainey, dear, are you listenin’?”
Blinking rapidly, I stare down at the stitching hoop clutched between my hands. Over breakfast, I gave Momma the shock of her life when I offered to embroidery with her this afternoon, but I had ulterior motives. I was desperate to give my mind a respite from this bachelor/dowry situation. Thus far, it wasn’t working, and I have poked the tips of my fingers at least ten times.
Lifting my head, I find Momma lookin’ at me expectantly. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“You were lost in your thoughts, weren’t you?”
“Of course not.” I look at the needle clutched between my thumb and forefinger. “I was simply engrossed in my embroidery.”
Momma tugs on the hem of my cloth so she can get a better look at my handiwork. Her eyes widen. “Mercy me, Rainey. What is that? A doll or a candle that’s caught on fire?”
“I don’t follow patterns, but my imagination and this”—I point at the yellow mass in the middle of the cloth— “is the sun. Because I like yellow, and the sun reminds me of happier times in my life.”
My hope is that my false truth of a story tugs at Momma’s heartstrings, but as the seconds tick by, she remains expressionless. I shrug and all but toss my embroidery onto the ottoman in front of me. “I believe I need to take a break.”
“Wonderful. Because now you can answer my question from before. How was your … time with Mr. Legare?”
For all her reservations regarding the bachelors, Momma is still inquisitive by nature. She can’t help herself. I take a deep breath, and I swear she leans in with wide eyes.
“Just as I told you last night, he was a kind gentleman, and we had a pleasant time at the theater.” Although, as I say those words, moments from the night before run through my mind. It’s not Beau’s beautiful face I see, but Livingston’s heart-stopping grin and the image of my hand touching his.
“Did you get to know him better?”
“Not as well as I hoped.” But I learned that slowly tracing letters on Livingston’s palm is enough to make my breathing accelerate. “There’s always a next time,” I say with false enthusiasm.
“You’ll see Mr. Legare again?”
“Perhaps.”
“And will you do this with the rest of the men? Time is of the essence.”
“If need be, yes.”
Momma resumes her needlework. Apparently, the important questions are out of the way. “You’ll certainly be an occupied woman for the next several weeks.”
“I will,” I agree. “But Serene has a rigid timeline. I’ll be seein’ numerous bachelors each week.”
“How wonderful. And what if a bachelor wishes to see you more than twice in a week?”
“Momma, what is it you truly want to say?”
Her eyes turn serious as she looks at me sharply. “Rainey, I don’t believe Miles intended for you to go about findin’ husband this way.”
“Well, no one knows the way he wanted me to find one. This is the route I chose.”
“And while I’m glad you’re acceptin’ of your dowry, Livingston as the executor, and not usin’ your bow on a single soul in the past two weeks, seein’ these men in such a way …” Her lips become pursed as she shakes her head.
Angling my head to the side, I smile. “Are you scandalized by me?”
To her credit, Momma appears dismayed by my question. “Of course not. But you should know that folks about town might find this all very objectionable.”
“It has crossed my mind,” I lie.
This was now the second time someone has made mention of the conversations buzzing throughout Charleston about the bachelor arrangement. The chatter didn’t bother me, but I would hate it even more for Momma to lose this home and everything inside it. That would be something everybody in Charleston would discuss for quite some time.
“If you’re worried about me bein’ in a compromisin’ position with one of the bachelors, you shouldn’t.”
“Because you will have Livingston as a chaperone?”
I bite down on my tongue. That’s the last person I want to see while I’m getting to know the bachelors, especially after last night. “No,” I say slowly. “Because Serene and I will be vigilant with every outin’ and event that there’s no chance of bein’ compromised.”