you might do to put me at my
ease is employ my given name.”
“No, ma’am, that wouldn’t be respectful. You’re a lady, and
my parents taught me to address ladies as miss or ma’am.”
“And yet you call my mother by her first name. How am I so
different that I don’t warrant the same treatment?”
“You ain’t married.”
“That’s ridiculous. I deserve no deference because of my sex
or marital status. For the first, I have no responsibility, and as for the
second, such a choice one way or another is hardly cause for respect. A person
earns respect for accomplishments, not marriage.”
“I dunno about that. I reckon for some women, marriage is an
accomplishment.”
She bit her lip and shook her head. “That is a dreadful,
shameful thing to say, and you won’t make me laugh, either. Marriage is not an
accomplishment. It is a chain around a woman’s neck—”
“Or a man’s.”
Arching one eyebrow, she responded smoothly, “Is that why you never married?”
“Could be,” he answered, cautiously.
“ Could be? Oh, no, now I must insist that you expand
upon that! Perhaps you never found the right woman? I believe that’s the reason
a bachelor generally provides for his unmarried state.”
Because, Nick thought gauging Miz Montgomery’s face, lit up
with amusement and curiosity, because he’d never really looked. In that
respect, he and Miz Montgomery were the same; marriage had never interested him
by much. For the better part of fifteen years, he’d been responsible for a
whole slew of people and their happiness, from Jim to his employees. He pretty
much figured that was a man’s primary responsibility in marriage, too, to keep
his wife happy. He’d had enough of that to last him a lifetime.
Star Montgomery, though, was already happy.
He shook off the thought.
“Reckon I already have everything a man could want from
marriage. Got my nieces and nephew underfoot, and Melinda to look after the
house and nag me just enough to keep me on the straight and narrow.”
“And your women in town to attend your other needs.”
So she knew about that, did she? But in her usual style, she
didn’t display the general modesty to keep it to herself. Well two could play
that game. “And more variety than a wife, to boot.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her jerk. It was about
damn time she showed some shock.
“Variety in bed?” she asked. “That’s important to a man,
then?”
Shocked, but not into shame. It irritated the hell out of
him; it also, damn it, excited him. If he had any degree of decency, he’d jump
subjects, because nothing seemed to shame her into silence. “Some men, I
reckon.” Nope, no decency. None. Nada.
“Do you know, I’d never considered that before,” she said
thoughtfully. “It’s quite a logical conclusion when one ponders the existence
of so many brothels and the amount of married men who frequent them. One might
expect it to be due to their wives’ disinterest in the marriage bed, but
perhaps brothels also provide variety.”
Unbidden came a kaleidoscope of carnal recollections, some
with Eve, some with May, a couple with both simultaneously. Then his
god-forsaken brain imposed Miz Montgomery’s pretty face and tall body on the
images: flushed, velvet skin, the lush curves of her bottom and breasts, soft
moans. Heat rushed through his veins.
Sonuvabitch!
“I suppose variety is something a woman might enjoy as
well,” Miz Montgomery postulated aloud.
And the heat in Nick’s veins settled between his legs. Damn,
damn, damn!
“Is that why you never married, Miz Montgomery?” he
asked by way of self-defense. “Heard you’ve been engaged a few times. Six if
Monty wasn’t exaggerating.”
For a moment, she looked chagrined. “Why, so I have,” she
said cautiously. “I confess I’ve found engagement to be . . . entertaining.”
She toys with them , Nick heard Monty saying again. Rather
like a cat with a mouse right before it goes in
ease is employ my given name.”
“No, ma’am, that wouldn’t be respectful. You’re a lady, and
my parents taught me to address ladies as miss or ma’am.”
“And yet you call my mother by her first name. How am I so
different that I don’t warrant the same treatment?”
“You ain’t married.”
“That’s ridiculous. I deserve no deference because of my sex
or marital status. For the first, I have no responsibility, and as for the
second, such a choice one way or another is hardly cause for respect. A person
earns respect for accomplishments, not marriage.”
“I dunno about that. I reckon for some women, marriage is an
accomplishment.”
She bit her lip and shook her head. “That is a dreadful,
shameful thing to say, and you won’t make me laugh, either. Marriage is not an
accomplishment. It is a chain around a woman’s neck—”
“Or a man’s.”
Arching one eyebrow, she responded smoothly, “Is that why you never married?”
“Could be,” he answered, cautiously.
“ Could be? Oh, no, now I must insist that you expand
upon that! Perhaps you never found the right woman? I believe that’s the reason
a bachelor generally provides for his unmarried state.”
Because, Nick thought gauging Miz Montgomery’s face, lit up
with amusement and curiosity, because he’d never really looked. In that
respect, he and Miz Montgomery were the same; marriage had never interested him
by much. For the better part of fifteen years, he’d been responsible for a
whole slew of people and their happiness, from Jim to his employees. He pretty
much figured that was a man’s primary responsibility in marriage, too, to keep
his wife happy. He’d had enough of that to last him a lifetime.
Star Montgomery, though, was already happy.
He shook off the thought.
“Reckon I already have everything a man could want from
marriage. Got my nieces and nephew underfoot, and Melinda to look after the
house and nag me just enough to keep me on the straight and narrow.”
“And your women in town to attend your other needs.”
So she knew about that, did she? But in her usual style, she
didn’t display the general modesty to keep it to herself. Well two could play
that game. “And more variety than a wife, to boot.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her jerk. It was about
damn time she showed some shock.
“Variety in bed?” she asked. “That’s important to a man,
then?”
Shocked, but not into shame. It irritated the hell out of
him; it also, damn it, excited him. If he had any degree of decency, he’d jump
subjects, because nothing seemed to shame her into silence. “Some men, I
reckon.” Nope, no decency. None. Nada.
“Do you know, I’d never considered that before,” she said
thoughtfully. “It’s quite a logical conclusion when one ponders the existence
of so many brothels and the amount of married men who frequent them. One might
expect it to be due to their wives’ disinterest in the marriage bed, but
perhaps brothels also provide variety.”
Unbidden came a kaleidoscope of carnal recollections, some
with Eve, some with May, a couple with both simultaneously. Then his
god-forsaken brain imposed Miz Montgomery’s pretty face and tall body on the
images: flushed, velvet skin, the lush curves of her bottom and breasts, soft
moans. Heat rushed through his veins.
Sonuvabitch!
“I suppose variety is something a woman might enjoy as
well,” Miz Montgomery postulated aloud.
And the heat in Nick’s veins settled between his legs. Damn,
damn, damn!
“Is that why you never married, Miz Montgomery?” he
asked by way of self-defense. “Heard you’ve been engaged a few times. Six if
Monty wasn’t exaggerating.”
For a moment, she looked chagrined. “Why, so I have,” she
said cautiously. “I confess I’ve found engagement to be . . . entertaining.”
She toys with them , Nick heard Monty saying again. Rather
like a cat with a mouse right before it goes in