Clara tried in vain not to fidget as the fear of rejection raced through her. Mr. Carlisle replaced his hat, as if readying to leave.
“I can carry those bags up, if you’d like,” he said.
“It’s quite all right,” she replied. “I can manage. Thank you.” She kept her shoulders straight and her chin up. If he wanted to leave her so badly, she wouldn’t try to make him stay.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Brown.” He nodded and was out the door so quickly, Clara barely had time to register his disappearance.
The moment the door closed, she slumped against the wall. Not only had he called her a responsibility, he had left so abruptly. He hadn’t asked her to call him by his given name either. If she was to marry him, shouldn’t they be on more familiar terms? And speaking of marriage . . . Why was he putting it off?
Something was wrong with her. She knew it deep down inside. It couldn’t be her appearance. After all, she’d managed to keep Gideon’s interest for nigh on eight months. And Mr. Carlisle hadn’t seemed disgusted when he saw her. It had to be some defect in her demeanor or her personality. Something that drove men away. But what?
Clara pressed a hand to her stomach, which knotted in disappointment and shame.
Hehadsaid he’d see her tomorrow. If he was so uninterested in her, wouldn’t he ask Mr. Wiley to see her off to the depot, rather than paying for her to stay at this boardinghouse and making plans to visit with her the next day?
She pulled in a deep breath. Somewhere in the rear of the boardinghouse, someone was cooking meat. The scent of it made her stomach growl. She hadn’t had anything truly worth eating since she’d left Virginia. And her body ached with the days and days of jostling travel on the train.
Perhaps she was just hungry and tired. That must be fraying her nerves and making her read far too much into Mr. Carlisle’s words and actions. After all, she hardly knew the man. She knew only what they’d exchanged in two letters each.
Perhaps he had somewhere to be, or he didn’t fully trust Mr. Wiley to tend to the livery. And some men weren’t particularly good with words. Maybe Mr. Carlisle was one of them.
Now that her nerves had calmed some, Clara almost wanted to laugh at herself. If Violet were here, she’d tell Clara she was being ridiculous and under no circumstances should she want to marry Mr. Carlisle before getting to know him better. He likely felt the same way.
It would be fine. Ithadto be fine.
Else she’d find herself returning home in shame, to a life of dreary and almost certain spinsterhood with no adventure ever to be had at all.
Chapter Five
ROMAN HAD JUST BLINKEDthe sleep from his eyes when Jeremiah’s urgent voice sounded from inside the stable.
“Boss! We’ve got a problem!”
Roman pulled up his suspenders as he pushed through the door that led from the back room into the stable. “What is it?” he called as Jeremiah strode toward him.
“Alliance is missing.” Jeremiah dragged a hand through his hair, leaving it even more unkempt than it looked before.
