Part 12 (1/2)

”Was it necessary to ... to...”

”Try to charm you? Rest a.s.sured, Diana, that was not all playacting. If I had not felt it crucial to avoid having my private life made public, I'd have done much more than take you to supper.”

”Oh.”

Bathory cleared his throat. ”Yes. Oh.”

There did not seem to be anything else to say.

Diana drifted into sleep soon after, and woke to the first pale light of day. She was still wrapped tightly with Bathory in the warm folds of his cloak. Her first thought was that she ought to be scandalized. Her second was that she was safe in his arms.

She felt more alive when she was with him. She'd not been this filled with energy since those giddy days right before she'd eloped with Evan.

The comparison gave her pause, but she chose to believe she was older and wiser now. She'd not repeat the same mistakes she'd made in the past. What harm, then, could there be in enjoying the heady pleasure of this man's unique company?

When others began to stir, Diana realized that there was an unusual amount of activity outside the parlor car, too. A party of rescuers had arrived to finish the task of freeing the train from its prison of snow. In the end, it took a snowplow pulled by twenty-eight horses and hundreds of men shoveling in front of it, to get them unstuck, but by midday they were at last able to press on to Stamford.

At 1:30 that afternoon, the train pulled into New Haven. Diana was one of the last to step, gingerly, onto the platform. Her ankle was tender, but she managed with the help of a cane, the fancy one Charles Underly always carried. Jerusha had appropriated it for her.

The other pa.s.sengers milled about, most trying to make arrangements to go on to their original destinations. Bathory disappeared, but only long enough to hail one of the hotel wagons lined up at the depot.

”I'm taking you to the Columbia House,” he informed her.

She knew the name. It was one of New Haven's finest hotels. ”I cannot afford to stay there.”

”You'll be a guest in my suite. With two separate bedrooms, you can be as respectable as you want to be.”

”Oh, but -- ”

”I feel ... responsible for you.” There was a warmth in his tone that did nothing to dispel her uneasiness.

She fought it with banter. ”Does that mean you're willing to admit to all and sundry, and my readers, that you are a physician?”

”I am willing to do all sorts of things, if you agree to come with me.”

When he looked at her that way, it was impossible to resist.

”All right, but I must send a telegram to my editor first.”

”A precaution?”

”A courtesy.”

But telegraph lines were down in that direction. A hand-lettered paper, posted next to the distinctive black and yellow metal sign of the Western Union office, gave no indication of when they'd be up and running again. Diana was not really surprised. After a storm so severe, it only made sense that communications were still disrupted.

”Diana!” Jerusha hurried towards her along the platform.

Toddy and Charles Underly followed after her, trailed more slowly by Lavinia Ross.

”Wonderful news!” Jerusha called. ”The train can go on to Hartford. We leave in ten minutes, which means we can still make the last night of our stand.” She engulfed Diana in a lavender-scented hug. ”Will you be all right on your own?”

They both looked around for Damon Bathory. He had gone into the Western Union office. Diana could see him through its bay window, conversing with the man on the other side of the bra.s.s grill.

”I will manage, Jerusha.” Diana forced a smile. Her friend's cough was much improved, but both eyes and nose still looked red and sore. ”You must take care of yourself and stop worrying about me.”

When Charles Underly reached them, she solemnly handed over his cane.

”Can you do without?” Toddy asked. ”Underly, give that back to her. You can always buy another.”

Underly sulked. ”I need my cane. You know it's specially made.”

Bathory interrupted, emerging from the telegraph office to take Diana's arm. ”She has me to lean on,” he said. ”She has no need of a cane.”

Jerusha sent him a piercing look. ”Can we trust you to take good care of her, sir?” They all turned to stare at him.

”It was her desire for a story about me that landed Mrs. Spaulding on this train in the first place. I am honor bound to make certain she gets back to New York.”

”Good man,” Toddy declared, slapping him on the back. ”But, another word with you before you go?”

They stepped aside. Diana a.s.sumed Toddy meant to make one last attempt to persuade Bathory to give him dramatization rights to his stories. ”Good luck to him,” she muttered.

”Good luck to you,” Jerusha said, and slipped a small silk purse into Diana's hands.

She peeped inside and was astonished at the sum it contained. ”I cannot take your money!”

”Consider it a loan, just in case you do not wish to let someone else pay your way. You have no means yet to return to Manhattan, and even if the tracks were completely clear, it is never wise to be entirely dependent upon a man's charity.”

Murmuring her thanks, and further admonitions for Jerusha to mind her health, Diana slid the purse into her leather bag. It was with mixed emotions that she watched her theatrical friends depart, leaving her alone in a strange city under the protection of the most compelling and dangerous man she'd ever met.

Chapter Ten.

Ben signed the register at the Columbia House with a flourish: Mr. and Mrs. Damon Bathory. It gave him an odd feeling to do so, but he forced his qualms aside. She had agreed to let him take care of her. What did one more small deception matter?

”I need to purchase a few things,” Diana murmured as the bellboy collected their luggage, almost all of it Ben's.

Reminded of the state of her wardrobe, he sent the bags on to their suite. The desk clerk provided the name of the best dress shop in the city.

”You need proper clothing if you don't want to be gossiped about,” he insisted over Diana's protests as he hustled her into a cab.

”Far be it from me to create scandal,” she agreed, ”but a dressmaker needs time to sew clothing. I need a department store with ready-made fas.h.i.+ons.”

Reluctantly, he changed their driver's orders, surprised to find that he had been looking forward to ordering a new wardrobe for her.

At first she would not look at anything more than bare essentials. ”Too expensive,” she complained when he pointed out a gown that would go well with her complexion, ”and unnecessarily dressy.”

”Let me buy it for you. It's the least I can do.”