She didn't have much of a choice. Besides, she was overwhelmingly curious. Nodding, she watched in confusion as the carriage stopped before a small, yet elegant restaurant. Katie accompanied him inside, wishing she had something other than a shawl to cover her work dress. She saw the curious glances the waiter gave her and her sophisticated companion, but she decided she could ignore them. When they were seated with a cup of hot tea, he spoke quietly.

"Katie, I've done a lot of thinking in the past few days. I realize that I judged you too harshly. Who knows? Given the same circ.u.mstances, I might have done the same thing."

Katie sipped the hot tea, not daring to react or hope. Did this mean he'd forgiven her?

"I also understand how everything happened. I've spoken to Ella, and you're right. The woman loves you. I can see how the situation developed and, given the affection between the two of you, why you let it continue."

Katie's mouth dropped, but she closed it quickly. She couldn't believe she was hearing this and wondered frantically how much gin she'd consumed the previous night. Yet even the strongest dose of alcohol couldn't have produced a dream like this one.

"I guess the part that upset me the most was my own fear that you were using me as well. Katie, I can understand the rest of it, but I have to ask you. Was I just part of the scheme, too?"

She shook her head, unable to speak. "No," she managed.

He watched her closely, as if trying to determine whether or not she spoke the truth. It was humiliating, but she had to admit she understood why he might weigh what she said with some caution. Apparently he trusted her word and he nodded.

"Then I think we do have something to talk about. Katie, we are married. Like it or not, that is our legal situation. In a way I am responsible for you. And in truth, it bothers me to know that you're out here, alone in this city, working at G.o.d knows what. Katie, I want you back."

The teaspoon clattered to her dish, but neither of them noticed. A small spark of hope arose inside of her. Was it possible that he was feeling some of the same things she was? "Back? You want me to come...to your home? To live as your wife?"

Christopher nodded, grinning, looking more handsome than ever. "Yes. Is that so hard to believe? Katie, you and I have a lot in common. I think we both realize that. And we get along well. We were attracted to each other from the first, and I think we still are. Instead of going our separate ways, why not pool our resources and see what we can do as a team."

Katie felt the rush of joy inside her dissipate. He said nothing of feelings, nothing of caring. In fact, he spoke as if this was a business arrangement. But surely he must feel something for her, or he wouldn't have gone to such lengths to seek her out.

She wanted to believe, but the pain inside of her reminded her of the consequences of such foolishness. She waited until after the serving man had brought her dinner, then she questioned him thoughtfully.

"Is that why you came looking for me? Because you want me to help you?"

For the first time Christopher looked uncomfortable. "No, that's not the only reason. I think we can help each other." At her pointed stare, he sighed, then he held open his hands like a gambler ready to call. "Katie, we have a chance at a new beginning. Ella Pemberton has agreed to give us a percentage of Fan's dowry, one thousand dollars, enough for one year. If we can make a go of it, we get the rest."

Understanding seeped through her, and with it disillusionment. This was why he really wanted her. It had nothing to do with emotions, nothing to do with her. It was for the money. Again he simply saw her as a means to an end.

"Christopher, I appreciate the offer. And for a girl like me, it is a really good one. But I have to say no." She smiled bitterly. "At Mrs. Eldridge's, I get a dollar a day and meals. And the terms are clear to everyone."

"Katie, that's not what I meant."

"Good evening, Christopher. Thank you for the dinner. I believe I can find my own way home."

"Katie, listen to me."

But it was too late. She was gone.

"Katie!" Christopher ran after her, but Katie had disappeared into the night as quickly as she'd run out. He looked down the street, where dozens of little alleyways and crisscrossing roads provided endless refuge for someone who didn't want to be found.

Furious, he returned home. He had ruined his chance. Even if he found her tonight, there was no way she'd listen to him. Maybe it was best if he waited a day and let her think about it, then he could try again.

Eunice was waiting when he entered the house. He could tell by her grim expression that she had guessed the outcome of the meeting. Hanging his coat on a nail where a picture once graced the wall, he turned toward her, prepared to do battle.

"Well?" Eunice looked pointedly behind him. "I notice you're alone."

"She wouldn't come." Christopher tried unsuccessfully to keep the frustration from his voice.

"What do you mean she wouldn't come?" Eunice asked patiently, as if speaking to a half-wit. "Did you explain the situation? Tell her about the money?"

"Of course I did." Christopher snorted. "She didn't care. She simply told me she'd rather continue working for Mrs. Eldridge, bade me good-bye, then disappeared into the night like a phantom. Dammit!" Striding about the room, he couldn't hide his outrage. "It took me days to find her, and she's gone again! She wouldn't listen to reason."

"That's ridiculous," Eunice said blandly. "Katie O'Connor cannot possibly prefer living as a maid to living with you, particularly after working for Florence Eldridge. The woman drinks, you know. And her children." Eunice shuddered at the memory, then eyed Christopher speculatively. "You must have made a very enticing offer for her to reject you."

"I told her the truth," Christopher said. "It is a business arrangement. Together we get the money and can start over. It's as simple as that."

"You didn't tell her like that?" Eunice said, aghast. When Christopher glanced up in confusion, his aunt rolled her eyes. "You did. What a romantic proposition! Why didn't you just offer to buy her instead? I believe there is a name for that profession."

Christopher stared at her, openmouthed. "You don't think-"

"Of course that's what she thought," Eunice snapped. "After all, you already confessed to using her before to get money."

Christopher wanted to protest, but he remembered Katie's hurt expression and the pain in her voice. Surely she knew that there was more to it than money.

Eunice seemed to read his mind. "I suggest you tell this woman what she means to you. Before it's too late."

She had been a fool. Katie couldn't get past that fact as she sat beside the fire in the little row house, trying to get warm. She didn't know why she was surprised, or why she'd expected anything different. For her, it was always the same.

How could she have let herself hope? She thought of the ridiculous flood of pleasure she'd experienced when she saw Christopher, and felt doubly humiliated. He had simply found another way to use Fan Pemberton to get what he wanted. All he needed was her cooperation. And she, Katie O'Connor, a woman alone with a child, was never quite good enough for anything else.

Yet, she realized as she smoothed the threadbare cushions of the sofa, she had been tempted by his offer. She would have a good home again, food, and the respectability that was so important to her. She could provide more for her son, could see that he ate well and went to a better school. She could even help out her grandfather and her aunt. Although they would die rather than admit it, they had put to good use the money she had sent from the sh.o.r.e and sorely missed the extra dollars. And she would be with Christopher.

A month ago she wouldn't have thought twice about it. But she just couldn't do it now. Every time she looked at him, she would know the truth. Pride was the only thing she had left, the only thing they'd never been able to take from her. For all of the slurs she'd had to endure, Katie O'Connor always held her head high.

"Mama?"

Sean came down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. She hadn't seen him earlier; she had come home too late. Katie held out her arms, surprised when he tumbled into them, sobbing.

"What's the matter?" She smoothed his soft blond hair, wondering what strange dream had awakened him this way.

"They hurt me." His words were barely coherent as he spoke through his tears.

"Who hurt you?" Katie quickly disengaged herself from him, then looked at him closely. Gasping, she saw a shiner developing beneath one eye, and a nasty sc.r.a.pe on his cheek.

"The boys at school. Aunt Moira put a cold cloth on it, but it still hurts. They called me that name."

Katie's heart broke. She wrapped her arms around her son fiercely, hating the children who had done this to him. And she knew why, and what name they meant. Sean had no father, and to the street urchins, he was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Because of ignorance and poverty, they took their frustrations out on each other. Katie didn't think she could bear it, so intense were her emotions. Gradually Sean stopped crying, then lifted his small face to her.

"It didn't matter, Mama. I hit back like Grandpa told me. I don't like to hurt them. It makes me feel bad."

"I know." Katie rocked him in her arms. "They don't like to hurt you either. Try to stay away from them."

"I will." Sean rose, yawning. "Can I sleep in your bed?"

Katie nodded, aware that he wanted some measure of security. She watched him smile, then go upstairs, the latest drama forgotten. With the resilience of a child, the promise of her companionship erased the damage of his injuries.

Almost. Katie sat in the darkness, letting the fire die. She had to do something to help her son.

Before he grew up just like his father.

"For the love of G.o.d, what is this? The place looks like a wake. Moira, take a look at this."

Sean giggled in the bed as Katie awoke and heard her grandfather's grumblings downstairs. The two of them shared a smile, then Katie bustled after Sean, wanting to know firsthand what all the commotion was about. "Mama...look!" Sean stared in amazement when they reached the bottom of the stairs and looked into the parlor.

The room was filled with flowers. In spite of the lateness of the season, summer roses, bunches of daisies, fresh chrysanthemums, and baby's breath brightened the room like sunshine. In the center of them all was a wrapped plant, and as Katie approached she saw that it was a shamrock.

"*Tis for you." Patrick shoved a letter at Katie, then stared at the profusion of flowers in wonder. "Would take me all season just to garden these. Who are they from?"

"A friend." Katie ignored his scowl and opened the note, hearing Moira's pleased comments.

My dearest Kate, the note began in an elegant scrawl that she instantly recognized as Christopher's. I want to apologize for yesterday. I didn't explain things very clearly, and realized only later what you must have thought. I was trying so hard to be truthful that I omitted what must be the most important fact of all.

Katie, when I said that I wanted you back, I meant as a wife, truly. I believe we have a future together. I don't know if what I feel for you could be called love, but I will tell you this. You mean more to me than any woman I've ever known.

I want you, Kate, and I think we can be happy. Do you think that we have a chance?

Christopher Katie grinned, hugging the note to her chest. He cared about her-he had to. She hadn't missed the significance of the shamrock. He, too, thought of their wedding night, and what that simple promise meant. Patrick scowled when she whirled around the room, and Moira laughed, her voice sounding like a young girl's.

"d.a.m.ned foolishness," Patrick said. "The world could be falling apart and that colleen wouldn't care."

"Let her be, Paddy," Moira said, then turned to Kate. "When is your gentleman calling?"

Katie hesitated. How could she tell them the truth, that she was married to this man? Could she possibly explain her reasons for what she'd done, the sequence of events leading up to her impersonation of Fan that resulted in a wedding they would surely consider immoral?

Yet how could she not?

If there was one thing Katie had learned, it was that evading the truth only led to more trouble. So taking a deep breath, she quickly spoke.

"He isn't. I'm going to him. He is my husband."

Moira looked stunned, while Patrick appeared less surprised. Katie explained the details of her marriage. When she had finished, Patrick frowned, his brows drawn together, looking thunderous.

"Are you saying that you love this man? That you want to go back to him?"

"I'm not certain what I feel," Katie said honestly. "But I think he does care for me."

"Many successful marriages have had stranger beginnings than this," Moira said hopefully. When Patrick grunted, she continued defensively: "Well, it's true. Remember Jimmy Reilly and Winifred Blake? Their marriage was a silver-glove affair. And then there was-"

"What about the boy?" Patrick interrupted Moira, his voice stern.

"Sean is part of the reason that all this happened," Katie responded truthfully. "You know how much I love him. I want something better for him than what I can provide." Her eyes squeezed shut as she thought of those children teasing him. Yes, somehow she would find a way to give him a better life.

"So you've told this society man about him? About your son?"

"Not yet." At Patrick's disapproving frown, Katie hastened to explain. "At first he thought I was Fan Pemberton. I couldn't tell him then. By the time he learned the truth, there was no point. I thought it was over and I left."

"To come here."

Katie nodded. "I will tell him now. He has a right to know."

"Good." Patrick seemed relieved, but he came closer to her and lifted her chin. His hand was like sandpaper, yet it was rea.s.suring. "I just want to ask you one more thing before you go to him. I know you, Katie, and I've seen you hurt before. Does this man make you happy?"

Katie nodded slowly. That much was true. Christopher did make her happy, and always made her laugh. And the one night they had spent together as husband and wife...Katie had never felt so close to another human being as she did then. Not even with John Sweeney had she experienced that union, a bonding of spirit as well as flesh.

"Yes," she answered with conviction. "He makes me happy."

"Then go to him. Remember, Katie, we have but one chance at this life. You have to take what happiness is offered and don't question it. Especially you. You've had enough hardship. Take it, Katie. And may G.o.d be with you."

The cabdriver knew exactly where the Scotts lived. Katie sank back against the seat in awe as the carriage pulled up in front of the Main Line mansion. Climbing out, she paid the man, then stood in the street, shivering in the wind.

It was every bit as grand as the Eldridges' house. Katie stared at the clean lines of the Federalist mansion, the elegantly curved windows, the dull red brick, the ivy creeping on the south side. An enormous green door with a bra.s.s knocker stood before her, and she lifted the metal with some trepidation.

The door opened instantly and Katie gaped in surprise as Christopher stood on the other side, still wrapping a robe around him. He had evidently just awakened. His hair was tousled from sleep, and his chin bore the stubble of a beard. Still, he was so handsome and Katie wondered how it was possible for someone to be born with so much.

"Kate." He seemed surprised and very pleased. "Come in. I suppose you received my message?"

"Yes. Thank you." Katie stood shyly inside the grand house, then glanced around and was stunned to see that it was virtually empty. Christopher didn't seem to notice that there were no furnishings, no curtains, no gaslights or servants. Instead he led her back to the kitchen, talking all the while, and proceeded to light the stove for his morning tea.

"...so glad you came. I had to go back to the church to find you. It was only when I proved to those nuns that we were married that they would help me. I'm sorry about last night. I didn't think-"

"Christopher," Katie said softly, unable to take her eyes from the crates. "You don't have any tables."

"Oh, that." He waved a dismissing hand. "We sold them. Aunt Eunice and I needed money to live on during the last few months."

"But everything? Even your rugs..." She stared down at the bare wood floor. There wasn't even a little throw rug to keep the chill away.

"We had to. We were desperate." He said this in a joking manner, and she stared at him in wonder. "Katie, I meant what I said in that note. I really do want you back."

She nodded, then sank down on a crate to think. Everything she had wanted to say to him went out of her head. She had wanted to talk to him about Sean, to explain, but confronted with this...Katie shuddered. Somehow she hadn't envisioned things as being this bad. At the sh.o.r.e, Christopher and his aunt had been able to maintain a facade of wealth. Here, their situation appeared desperate.

"What happens when you have guests?" Katie asked. "Don't they wonder?"

"We haven't entertained since we've been back." He looked at her in confusion. "Katie, none of this matters. If we get back together, we get the money to replace these things. If that's what you want to do."

Her mind was in a whirl. Poverty and financial problems were nothing new to her; they apparently were to him. If she should go along with this plan and the Scotts didn't change their style of living, they would soon be more broke than now. They needed much more than the dowry under these circ.u.mstances. Ella's offer, generous as it was, would only give them a start.

"Christopher, I've given the matter a lot of thought. I do think you're right, that we make a good team. And together we could be successful."

He grinned, obviously pleased. "I think so, too. Katie, I really do care about you-"

She held up her hand and looked at him pityingly. He didn't understand. Somehow she had to make him. "Christopher, I will come back, but there are some conditions. I don't know if you've really thought this through, but we will have to make some major changes. Ella's money is only temporary; we have to find a way to reinstate your fortune. Otherwise we will go through the fund in no time at all. Just to refurnish this house, hire servants...the cost will be unbelievable."

Christopher nodded, then sat beside her at the table. "I know, but we'll be able to do something. Once we're reestablished."