FIVE.

Katie was still chuckling when she came down to dinner that night. Every time she pictured Christopher in the water, and his expression when he realized she'd taken his clothes, she couldn't help but laugh. Although she'd never admit it, a part of her had been a little distracted by his very masculine form. No armchair philosopher, he evidently led a vigorous life and it showed. A surge of feminine excitement tingled through her as she envisioned him in the ocean, his lean body only partially concealed by the gray-blue water. Stop it, she told herself. The fool was conceited enough without her admiring him. Still, to see him discomfited was worth any price.

"That dress is lovely, Fan. The blue really sets off your eyes and hair," Ella said with a fond glance at her niece. She indicated a chair. "I must say you've enjoyed your outing today. I've never seen you in such high spirits."

Katie smiled softly as she took the seat. It was getting easier and easier to think of herself as Fan Pemberton, and she found that she responded to that name almost as quickly as she would to her own. "We had a great time. I saw Mr. Scott today in the ocean. I have to say it was very revealing."

Eileen brought in the dinner plates, then slammed them out on the table. "Sounds like a fool notion to me," she remarked. "Bathing in that ocean near naked! In my day young ladies wouldn't think of such a thing."

She emphasized the word "ladies." Katie gave her a sharp look while Ella nodded.

"In your day you would have been perfectly correct. But these are modern times, and doctors now approve of exercise. And all of the fashionable young ladies are so engaged. It is a good way to socialize, outside of the formal customs of a dance or a ball."

Before Eileen could argue, there was a knock on the door. "I believe that is our dinner companions," Ella said sweetly, with an absentminded air. "Would you mind setting out two extra places? I think I forgot to mention that we were having guests."

Katie looked at Eileen in confusion, but the housekeeper seemed to have no more idea than she about their dinner plans. With a shrug, Eileen left the room to answer the door, then returned a moment later.

"Yes." Ella nodded, then turned to Katie. "Mr. Scott is here, with his aunt. Let's join them in the front room, dear, and leave Eileen to her work."

Katie froze, staring at Ella Pemberton in disbelief. It was he-Christopher Scott! She knew she would run into him again; it was inevitable. But she wasn't quite prepared to meet him the same day she had set him up so admirably.

Swallowing hard, she glanced quickly into the mirror, wondering how Frances would handle this. What she saw didn't help. She was too tall, her hair unfashionably black, her nose sprinkled with freckles. She looked like a poor Irish girl, not the niece of this wealthy woman. And now she had to get through a dinner with Christopher Scott and his aunt seated across the table from her!

"Miss Pemberton." Christopher gallantly greeted the older woman first, his expression a model of politeness. Dressed in an immaculate dark suit with a sparkling white shirt, he looked every inch the gentleman and entirely too handsome. Katie didn't wonder at the attention he received from the other girls. When he finished greeting Ella, he turned to her and his smile deepened. She could hear the laughter in his voice as he bowed to her, then insisted on taking her hand.

"My dear Miss Pemberton. It has been too long since we've...seen each other."

Katie fumed, longing to s.n.a.t.c.h back her hand, but there was no way she could object without attracting Ella's attention. She noticed his aunt was looking at her closely, as if curious about her reaction. Katie forced a sweet smile.

"Yes, it has been. Did you enjoy your swim today, Mr. Scott? I noticed you seemed right at home in the water. Much like a shark, or a barracuda, I would think."

He threw back his head and laughed, while taking a seat beside Ella and Eunice. "Yes, I am an accomplished swimmer. I must say the tide was very rough today. It carried off just about everything, including some personal articles. Did you have any such problem?"

He wouldn't...he wouldn't tell Ella what she'd done. She could just imagine the older woman's reaction when she heard that her genteel niece had carried off the clothing of this gentleman, just to make him a laughingstock. Somehow Katie was sure Ella wouldn't get the joke. Fighting to keep her composure, she managed another bright smile, though her eyes implored him.

"No, I can't say that I did. Would you like a drink or something, Mr. Scott? Mrs. Scott? Wine before dinner?"

He smiled broadly, then nodded. "That would be very nice, Miss Pemberton."

Eunice and Ella declined, and Katie left, glad to escape. She was forced to wait on him, but that was nothing compared with what he could do to her. Grimacing, she envisioned a meal full of his innuendos and barbed comments. She had it coming, that much she knew. But it didn't make the prospect any pleasanter. Christopher apparently intended to retaliate for her prank, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Bringing the gla.s.s back to the parlor, she paused in the doorway, surprised to see him playing cards with Ella and his aunt. Ella turned over a card, then blushed and laughed at her choice while Christopher applauded her strategy. Eunice made a sharp remark, then they all laughed, Christopher obviously enjoying himself. Katie frowned. Somehow his generosity with the older ladies didn't fit the picture she had of him as a heartless rogue, especially when, a few moments later, he let Ella win the hand.

Ella was still blushing and laughing when Katie reentered with the wine and handed him the gla.s.s. He gave her a grin when he took it, his fingers gently brushing hers as he accepted the drink.

"I almost thought you weren't returning," he said, implying that retreat was her first tactic. "I just got duly trounced by your aunt."

"You are too generous," Ella said, though Katie could tell she was pleased. "I've been practicing, but I've yet to equal your skill."

"Yes, but you did win. My congratulations."

Ella couldn't have been happier. Flattered by Christopher's attentions, she was like a young girl again. Katie followed them into dinner, watching thoughtfully as he pulled out the chair for the older women. Yet there was nothing contrived in his actions. Instinctively, she knew that he did this as a matter of respect and genuine affection.

Reluctantly she thought of her own grandfather and her elderly aunt. Patrick O'Connor told endless tales of the old country and his career in the sa.s.senach army. Moira was more than a little daft and didn't care who knew it. Yet they loved Katie and her son unconditionally, and it always hurt her to see them given less attention or respect than they deserved. Christopher, she realized in astonishment, would probably treat them courteously, in spite of their eccentricities.

Katie took the seat farthest away from him. It was just too unnerving to be close to him, especially now when she was forced to change some of her notions about him. She withdrew from the conversation, answering only in monosyllables, but the three of them managed just fine without her. Watching him covertly, Katie had to admit that he was the perfect guest. Ella and Eunice begged him for gossip and spoke at length about everything from tea tables to the Main Line families.

"It is so nice to have a gentleman present for dinner!" Ella said gratefully when the first course was cleared away. "I always say we are too much alone, just us women in the house. Tell us about your business, Christopher, your investments and such. I am always so interested in such doings, and don't hear nearly enough about them."

Katie glanced up, aware that she knew very little about him. Christopher shrugged casually. "I'm...investing in art these days," he said slowly.

"Art!" Ella turned to Katie enthusiastically. "Fan once took drawing lessons! She really is quite good, though I haven't been able to prevail upon her to paint for us since she's been back." When Katie refused to respond, she turned back to her guest. "What kind of art are you working with?"

"I'm presently in the business of selling some paintings," Christopher said quickly. "When I've raised enough capital, I'm thinking of a merger of a.s.sets. Enough to start another enterprise."

"I see," Ella said in confusion while Eunice had a coughing attack.

"What he means is, he is thinking of forming a mutually beneficial conglomerate," Eunice explained. "Enough about business, though. I find the conversation tiring. I would like to hear more about Fan's painting. Are you fond of the new French Impressionism, dear? I don't quite understand it myself."

Katie gulped, aware that all eyes were on her. She hadn't the faintest idea of what they were talking about, but she had the feeling that the real Frances would. Seeing Christopher's interested gaze, she shrugged, determined not to let him see her defeated.

"I don't quite care for it myself," Katie said thoughtfully. "I think there is something too bold about it."

"Whatever do you mean?" Eunice questioned bluntly. "I've always thought Impressionism to be very subtle. The slightest shading of color lends a whole new meaning to the subject. I can't imagine it being described as bold."

Fl.u.s.tered, Katie glanced at Ella, but even the older woman seemed puzzled. Somehow she had to think of a way out of this one. Amazingly it was Christopher who saved her.

"I think what Fan means is that the idea is bold," he commented. "Now that we have photographs, we don't have the same need for realism in painting. The Impressionists, by using only light and color, convey much more than a true-to-life oil."

"That's it exactly," Eunice said, delighted with her answer. "And one is never quite sure what the hues represent. One is simply left with a feeling, an emotion, which is what good art is all about. What a wonderful observation, Fan."

Katie gave Christopher a look of profound grat.i.tude, which immediately earned her a charming smile, one so dazzling she had to hide behind her gla.s.s. A strange fluttering started in her stomach, which she attributed to the wine. It couldn't be anything else, but when she dared to look again, she couldn't stop the thoughts that entered her mind.

He was so good-looking, perfectly handsome, in fact. She winced as she pictured the dock workers from the city, the boys she'd grown up with who hooted when she walked to her job. None of them, not even the rugged Carey Murphy, whom all the girls drooled over, could hold a candle to Christopher.

All right, so he was handsome. And charming when he wanted to be. Rich. And funny. She had to hold back a giggle as she remembered his proposal on the Drexels' porch. Why was she fighting this? He was, in fact, everything a girl dreamed of. Then why was she so afraid?

Because he might find out. Because he'd hate you if he did. Because you're not Fan Pemberton, but a poor Irish maid who cleans houses and hires out as a ladies' companion. You have a child, you don't have money...you've never even had a husband. My G.o.d-she shook herself. What are you thinking? There was not a happy ending for women like her, and she'd best not forget it.

"Frances, Mr. Scott is speaking to you," Ella said firmly.

Katie glanced up. "Oh? I am sorry. What did you say?"

"I said there is a small theater troupe playing in the hotel tomorrow night. It is not as grand as Philadelphia, but it should prove entertaining. Would you care to go?"

"Oh, how lovely for you, dear!" Ella exclaimed. "And I happen to know you are not engaged tomorrow night. You will have such a good time!"

Katie forced a smile. "I am sorry, but Aunt Ella, you forgot that the Misses Mitch.e.l.l are coming by for dessert. I can't possibly go."

"No, dear, they canceled," Ella said brightly. "I received a note from them earlier."

"Perhaps if Miss Pemberton really doesn't care for the play, it is impolite to force her," Eunice said sharply, hiding a smile behind her coffee cup. "Christopher, I think you should withdraw the invitation."

Everyone waited expectantly. Christopher stared at Katie while she gulped the hot coffee, burning her tongue. If she refused, she'd make him look like a fool. If she accepted...

If she accepted, she risked everything. He was too cool, too urbane, too handsome and dangerous. He posed more of a threat than John Sweeney, for she could sense that Christopher's charm could be deadly. And if he found out too much about her, she would lose it all. Like Cinderella, the midnight hour would toll and she'd turn once more back into a scullery maid.

Everything practical told her to refuse. Everything emotional told her she couldn't walk away from this. You have one chance at happiness, Katie, her father had told her. Just one life. Don't be afraid to take risks, to laugh and to love....

"I am free tomorrow," she heard herself answering. "I will be glad to go."

"Fine," he said. "I'll call for you at seven, then."

He gave her a dazzling smile and Katie had the distinct impression that she was sinking into quicksand without a rope. Christopher Scott was a threat to her in every way possible.

G.o.d help her.

SIX.

She was perfect. Christopher couldn't stop the contented smile on his face as he sat across from his aunt in the carriage heading home. Sharp-tongued and witty, sensual and pretty, Fan Pemberton was like a rich wine, heady and full of delightful contrasts.

Her expression when she'd met him for dinner was priceless, especially after the stunt she'd pulled earlier. No other woman of his acquaintance would have dared such a thing as stealing his clothes. Most of the debutantes seemed notoriously ignorant of a man's body, and often pretended that the human form stopped below the neck. Yet Fan's earthy approach to the situation and her courage to play such a joke intrigued him more than all the simpering blushes in the world.

And it wasn't as if she was that experienced. There was a maidenly shyness about her that appeared at unexpected times that made him think she wasn't the wanton that the scandal implied. He'd known women at the gambling halls who enjoyed lovemaking simply for the experience. They didn't turn their head from him, nor did their eyes cloud in confusion when he smiled. They met his invitation head-on, aware of what he offered and willingly accepting. Fan wasn't like that, yet from what he'd heard, she wasn't totally ignorant of love either.

He grinned when he recalled the conversation about painting and knew instinctively that she had been over her head. That didn't surprise him; many of the girls he knew spent their educational time in other pursuits, such as gossip or playing. And most of the mothers and aunts exaggerated their daughters' or nieces' accomplishments. Fan apparently excelled at singing, but didn't give a hoot about painting, which didn't deter him in the slightest.

No, life with Fan Pemberton would be anything but boring. And by the softening of her expression, he knew he was finally making some headway with his courtship. He would win her; he was determined to do that. He was smiling self-confidently when Eunice interrupted his thoughts.

"Still mooning over that girl, I see." Rapping him sharply with her cane, Eunice nodded when he glanced up in annoyance and rubbed his leg.

"What are you talking about? I thought you wanted me to find a wife."

"I do. So you've settled on Miss Pemberton?" When Christopher nodded, she paused thoughtfully. "She's a fine girl, intelligent and with backbone. I have a feeling she'll need it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Christopher said indignantly.

"Nothing at all, dear boy. I have looked into the financial implications of the matter, and they are promising. Fan is the favored niece of Ella Pemberton. Besides a dowry, she stands to receive a goodly inheritance from the woman. Not only will it solve your current problems, but will ensure your future as well."

Something about his aunt's manner bothered him. Staring out the window at the rugged sh.o.r.eline, he shrugged. "I'm glad, but do we have to be so practical about it? You make me sound like a kept man."

Eunice chuckled sharply and pounded her cane on the floor. "We have to be practical, dear boy. I've sold off the last of the Scott portraits, which will provide enough money to wine and dine Miss Pemberton through the summer. I cannot afford mistakes, however, or a change of heart. Are you certain this is the woman?"

Christopher's mind ran over all of the other debutantes he knew, then Fan. She was stunning, earthy and fun. Best of all she made him laugh. In the face of a lifetime commitment, that became extremely important. The whole thought process took less than a few minutes and he nodded firmly.

"Good. We won't have enough income to allow you to court more than one woman in style, so it's best if you are certain. There remains one other difficulty, however."

"What's that?"

"Whether you can make her want you. Don't give me that look, my boy, I'm just a.s.sessing the financial practicalities of our endeavor. Fan may interest you. She has certainly more depth than other young women of your acquaintance and I'm aware that she presents a challenge. Everything has always come too easily to you. Here is a woman who doesn't swoon at your feet, who sees you exactly for what you are and isn't afraid to give back as good as she gets. What worries me is the possibility of failure."

"That won't happen." Christopher's eyes darkened in annoyance, but Eunice noticed the way his foot tapped uneasily on the carriage floor. "Fan is more difficult than other women, but that doesn't mean anything. I've already made her soften toward me-it's only a matter of time before she surrenders."

"Ah," Eunice said. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you throw away our one chance at success because you are behaving like a typical man. This fortress shall be conquered and I'm the one to do it!" Christopher sent her a sardonic look, which Eunice ignored. "We don't have the time or the money to indulge you. Why don't you try an easier woman? Like one of the Mitch.e.l.ls?"

Christopher's face tightened and he stared at his aunt pointedly. "I agreed to this plan, but not under the impression that you would choose my bride. I will, however, acknowledge your concerns. If I can't convince Fan within the month to be my wife, then I will reconsider. Is that fair?"

Eunice nodded. "Yes. Just remember to keep our objective in mind. You are marrying for money, Christopher. Not for your heart's desire."

Christopher grimaced. There was truth in his aunt's remarks. But Fan Pemberton promised much more than a monetary solution. And now he had less than a month to try.

"A perfect woman, n.o.bly planned, to warm, to comfort and command; and yet a spirit still and bright, with something of angelic light."

Katie burst into chuckles as she read the love note Christopher had given her. He stared at her in confusion as she smoothed the creamy paper and broke into renewed peals of laughter. "Whatever is so funny?"

"I'm sorry." Katie grinned, wiping her eyes. "I guess I'm just not used to being courted so...poetically."

She didn't tell him she had never been courted at all, nor that the local brawling pub boys would hardly declare her angelic. And they both knew she was far from perfect. Still, the elegant note with its lacy borders was beautiful and the gesture touching.

Christopher looked amused, but a little bewildered. "You don't like it? I believe it's Wordsworth. Love letters are expected, as part of the ritual."

Katie gulped, aware that she'd revealed her ignorance. Frantically she tried to recall what she knew of Fan's past, and seized on that as a possible explanation.

"I'm sorry, I guess it's just I've been away so long and never properly courted. And given the nature of our relationship, it does seem odd."

That seemed to satisfy him, for he laughed in agreement. "Yes, we have come a long way from hiding my clothes." Then his smile softened and he lightly touched her face. "But in this case, the poet is right. You do have spirit, though hardly the way he intended."

Katie grinned, then sat back to enjoy herself. Seated in the front row of the theater next to Bertrice and Charles, dressed in a cream lace gown of such exquisite beauty that she couldn't help touching the spidery intricacy of the material, she still couldn't believe she was here. The play was astonishing, and Katie was entranced by the tale of a man's ruin from drink and his wife's n.o.ble belief in him. The whole experience was heady and exciting, and she never wanted it to end.

Best of all was the attention Christopher gave her. He'd greeted her at Ella's house and immediately presented her with a jewel-encrusted fan; in honor of her name, he'd said laughingly. Still, it was beautiful, and Katie couldn't help flirting with it and giggling at the result. Yet it was the little things he did, the way he held doors for her, the touch of his hand on her arm, the admiring glance he gave her when seated in the dim light, that made her feel special and appreciated.

She didn't know what would come of all this and she didn't ask. For this one brief shining moment she was no longer Katie O'Connor but Frances Pemberton. She'd been thrust into a perfect world, and although she knew it couldn't last, she was enjoying it to the fullest. She'd decided to stop fighting this, to let fate take its course, and so far the trip had been delightful.