Free Cheryl Reavis by Harrigans Bride Page A

remark.
    “You have hurt your mother deeply. I trust you realize that.”
    “Sir, I don’t know what—”
    “A Harrigan will not drag the Winthrop name through the mud again. I will not have it!” the old man interrupted, his voice rising, likely to the appreciation of everyone on the second floor. Thomas could hear movement outside the door, either the curious or the concerned trying to ascertain exactly what was transpiring in here. But he wasn’t about to acknowledge any wrongdoing until he specifically knew the charge. He had no interest in this repeat of an all-toofamiliar scene from his boyhood. He had to find out what had happened to Abiah.
    “Exactly what is it you think I’ve done?”
    “You’ve proved to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’ve been right about you all along. And now you have proved it to your mother, as well. She heard about your entanglement on the steps of the churchafter the Sunday service. Did you honestly think you could carry on as you have with this rebel harlot of yours and the scandal wouldn’t reach our ears?”
    “Sir—”
    “Have you gotten this girl with child? If you have, you needn’t think a bastard of yours will ever lay claim to a Winthrop inheritance. And you needn’t think that I won’t speak to your commanding officer—”
    “And have him do what? Put me in the front lines? I’m there often enough without your help.”
    “I can assure you there will be consequences!”
    Thomas stared at him. He was so weary of this, too weary to even attempt to explain. “You know, I do wonder how you’ve stayed a respected jurist when you are always so anxious to rush to judgment.”
    “Rush to judgment? No, indeed. I simply have no interest in hearing your excuses!”
    “Good. I have no interest in making any. If that’s all, then I’ll take my leave. I have more pressing matters to attend to than this.”
    “I am not finished here! Did you honestly think you could flaunt your whoredom and no one would dare challenge you?”
    “Sir! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
    “I know enough! Have you nothing to say about this?”
    “No. I don’t.”
    “Then you leave me no alternative but to tell your mother you are completely unrepentant.”
    “While you’re at it, tell her I send her my fondest regards. Safe journey home, Grandfather.”
    Thomas headed for the door, but someone knocked just before he reached it. When he opened it, the same message runner who had fetched him here waited in the hall.
    “Sir, you have somebody asking after your whereabouts,” he said.
    “Who is it?”
    “Well, sir, I, ah…” He lowered his voice. “The person won’t say.”
    Thomas frowned. “What am I supposed to do? Guess?”
    “There’s a bit of a fuss, sir—about the money.”
    “What money?”
    “She says you owe her, sir.”
    “She?”
    “It’s one of the, ah, women, sir. You know.”
    Thomas didn’t know at all—at least not precisely. He could feel his grandfather’s attentiveness behind him.
    “We aren’t sure how she got in here, sir. There have been strict orders ever since we got back—absolutely no civilians in camp, much less strolling right into headquarters. Half of Falmouth has been trying to get up here to see a general so they can make some kind of complaint, but the pickets aren’t supposed to let anyone pass—unless they come in like your grandfather, with enough passes to get into Jeff Davis’s front parlor.”
    “Where is she?”
    “Lieutenant Noah had her detained where—where…”
    “Where what!” Thomas said impatiently.
    “Where she’s not apt to run into anybody in authority, sir. The lieutenant says to tell you it’s a belated wedding present.”
    “Show me,” Thomas said, and he left without saying anything more to his grandfather. The old man would think the worst no matter what, and this latest development, whatever it was, couldn’t help the situation.
    The woman had been forcefully invited to wait