“On the contrary.” He snapped the door closed. “You're just the kind of woman who inspires my interest most.”
“What?” She offered a humorless smile of her own. “The fallen kind?”
He leaned forward, attention dipping to her lips. “The reluctant kind.”
Charlie took that moment to swing a fist in Mr. Lewis’ direction. Kizzie almost grinned.
“Well, I'm not reluctant.” Mr. Lewis dodged the little hand, giving Kizzie another pull at the door. She slid through the small opening, Mr. Lewis on her heels. “I'm completely resistant.”
“Resistant?” He laughed as she crossed the porch toward the steps. Kizzie searched the growing dusk for any sign of the carriage.Case, where are you?
“Don't you know what I could offer you, silly girl?”
“I am sure as shootin’ that whatever you got to offer me, I don't want to ever see.” She made it to the porch steps.
“What is it you want then, I wonder?” He grabbed her arm as she moved toward the porch steps, nearly knocking her hold on Charlie loose. “As you play house with my mother. If you're not after a little secret affection to boost your status?” His eyes trailed down her and back, hardening into two dark orbs within the shadows of the porch. “Then you must want something much more secure.” One of his dark brows rose. “I didn't reckon you the power-hungry sort, but I see I've been wrong.”
“I ain't got time to listen to your trickery, Mr. Lewis.” She pulled against his hold, but he only tightened his grip.
She bit back a wince, refusing him the knowledge that he hurt her.
“I'm not the tricky one, Miss McAdams. You are.”
Kizzie twisted her arm in an attempt to free it. “Just what a tricky person would say.”
“Do you think your attention to my brother goes unnoticed?” He loomed over her, taking up all the space in her vision. “Don't you know that the whole town is waiting for you to ruin his excellent reputation by placing him in a compromising position in order to marry you?”
The fight drained from her. “What are you talking about?”
“It makes perfect sense to use your wiles to prey on my brother's position and wealth.” His smile turned into a nasty curl as he pulled a cigarette pack and matchbook from his jacket pocket. “I would commend it, even. Excellent playacting as the broken and destitute woman misused by one man and in desperate need of the protection of another, who is conveniently rich and would elevate your place in society.”
Her insides shook at his claims. They weren't true, of course, but did folks really believe that? Was that what was going around about her past and her purpose? Did they think she had designs on Noah to ruin him?
She'd never hurt him or his family.
Well, maybe she'd hurt George Lewis, but only if God didn't stop her with a healthy slap from the Holy Spirit.
“I ain't got no plans of the sort.” She succeeded in jerking her arm free of his hold.
“That's not what the world sees.” He struck the match, raising it to the cigarette, the match glowing against his face to reveal his shadowed smile. “And if you cared at all about my brother, you would distance yourself from him before you damage his reputation even more than you already have. As you likely already know, he tends to want to rescue broken things, and an association with you would sully our entire family's reputation.”
The sound of the approaching carriage crunched against the gravel in front of the house. Kizzie refused to respond to Mr. Lewis and instead turned and marched to meet it. She kept her comments scarce on the ride home, her smile ready for Case's benefit. But as soon as she made it into her apartment, the internal shaking emerged in a sob, and she snuggled Charlie close as she cried on her bed.
Her past had cost her many things.
Her family. Her reputation. Her home.
But she'd thought starting over offered a fresh start, hopefully to move beyond the weight of those costs.
Giving up her friendship with Victoria and Noah Lewis proved yet again another price to pay. But she'd do it. To keep them from the shame she understood so well.
“We've got to think of a way to protect those young children, Mother.” Noah removed his coat and walked into the sitting room after a full day at the mill. Taylor took the coat and disappeared around the corner as Noah sat down across from his mother in front of the large marble fireplace. “I jerked a little three-year-old out from underneath the spinning mule today. He'd escaped his mother to chase after his older brother.”
Mother pulled her attention from the fire, where she'd seemed lost in thought. “What on earth was the older brother doing beneath the spinning mule?”
“He scavenges for me after his school day. It's a way the family can earn a few extra dollars in the week.”
“Good heavens, the poor boy must be exhausted after a full day of school, then to scavenge beneath the mule for another two or three hours?”
