CHAPTER 36 — DEMANDS

“You seem eager.”

Fiona finally tore her gaze off of the moving pen in the man’s hand to his conniving face. She sat in her study for several minutes, waiting patiently for the man to sign the papers, selling the farm to her. She sat for several minutes behind her desk in the study, watching the man flip a pen in his hand, apparently unwilling to sign the papers.

Irked, she was tempted to lash out at him and curse him for making her wait so long. Instead, she had leaned back against her seat, her eyes following the movement of the pen in his hand, her heart pounding with impatience. He was testing her, she thought, scolding herself to appear calm. For whatever reason, he was testing her temperaments, eager to see her desperation for the piece of property he possessed. Perhaps, he thought by doing so, he could squeeze some more money from her account. She, of course, wouldn’t give him the pleasure he desired, the pleasure of seeing her desperation.

“Eager to end this transaction, Mr. Ortley.” She sounded calm in her own ears.

“Eager to own the farm. Perhaps it is worth over fifty thousand.”

Against her desire to gorge his eyes out with the moving pen in his hand, she forced a smile to her lips. “It isn’t worth two dimes.” Placing her hands on the table, she pushed herself to her feet. “Forgive me, mister, I had no idea the piece of rubbish meant so much to you,” she said tersely. “If you will excuse me, I have a boarding house to run.”

She turned then, walking around the desk and past him. Her heartbeat rose with every step she took to the door, everything in her longing for his voice to halt her in her tracks. She was calling his bluff and daring him not to sell the land to her.

As she neared the door, it took everything in her not to turn around and beg for the farm. Her fingers settled on the doorknob, turning it and pulling the door wide open. She lifted her right leg and took a step, her heart pounding dangerously.

“Wait!”

It wasn’t until he spoke that she realized she hadn’t been breathing for several seconds. Air suddenly filled her lungs, making it difficult to maintain her footing.

“I accept your offer.” His voice trembled slightly.

She turned around slowly, relief flooding her on the inside, but her face did a wonderful job of masquerading her feelings.

He stood by the desk, his right leg tapping nervously on the wooden floor. She saw then, as her eyes ran over him, the slight twitching of his muscles, the aversion of his eyes—visible signs of fear.

He needed her! The realization filled her with a sudden rush of power, a feeling that caused her skin to break out with goose pimples. She was in control! She was more in control than she even knew. Unlike with her deceased husband, she was in control of this situation—of this man!

“Ten thousand,” she announced, unwilling to part with more than what was necessary. A part of her knew he would sell for far less if she made the offer, and the majority part of her wanted to stay in control.

“We already...”

“I changed my mind!” She dismissed his argument with a wave of her hand. “You are right, it isn’t worth fifty, it is worthless. Perhaps three hundred dollars...” He reached up, running his hand nervously through his hair. “But I’m gracious. Ten thousand and that is it. You have one minute to sign the papers and get out of my study.”

Nothing more was said—not a word in disapproval, nor a word in approval. The papers were signed, and the land was transferred to her.

“Have this delivered to Mr. McAllister, will you?” She placed an envelope in the waiting hands of the coachman. “It is high time we finally meet, alone.”

***

A small piece of wood sliced through the air, missing Raymond’s eyes by an inch. A loud hiss escaped his lips as he threw the axe to the side and ran a hand down his face to get rid of the sweat that clung to his skin.

He buried his hand in his pocket and easily found a dirty handkerchief in it. He lifted the handkerchief to his face, closing his eyes briefly as he wiped the sweat off. He was still wiping his face clean when the sound of approaching horses begged for his attention.

Placing the handkerchief back in its place in his pocket, he cupped his hand over his forehead and turned towards the sound, a black carriage appearing in his line of vision.

He stepped over the large pile of wood he had been gathering and began hurriedly making his way to the carriage, a frown creasing his face and confusion clouding his mind; he didn’t recognize it. When he reached the carriage, he was in time to find the coachman climbing down.

“A message for Mr. McAllister?” The man’s announcement followed his scrutiny of Raymond.

“Yes?”

He placed an envelope in Raymond’s hand. “That will be all.” He climbed back on to the carriage, gathered the reins in his hands and whipped the horses, urging them forward.

Raymond watched until the carriage had disappeared down the hill, before tearing open the envelope. The handwriting was unfamiliar, light strokes of ink upon a white sheet of paper. He scanned the note quickly, his frown deepening as he swept through every word written on it. When he reached the end and saw the name of its sender, a loud curse escaped his lips.

Fiona!

For whatever reason, she was demanding his presence. He would have ignored her demand if she hadn’t made it very clear it was important—to him, not to her. She would see him immediately, she had written. And she would see him alone.

Fear clutched his heart as he stood frozen, contemplating her note. A part of him feared she would threaten him with her knowledge of his plan to abort Lily’s baby. Hadn’t he said so himself, hadn’t he blurted out the secret when he was drunk? What else had he said to Fiona? What else would she use to threaten him?

No, he shook his head. There was no reason for a threat; he had nothing Fiona would want. Perhaps her desire to see him was based on something important, something that could help him. Her note was vague, and he knew if he wanted to get any sleep tonight, he would need to ride to town immediately.

Half racing to the barn, he released a horse from the stall and mounted it, whipping it to a run.

He was halfway to town when he remembered he had neglected to inform Lily of his decision to go into town. He couldn’t spend more than an hour in town or he would risk her getting worried.

He found the boarding house and tied his horse to a pole outside the gates. He pushed open the gate and made his way through the cobbled walkway and up the stairs to the front porch. His fingers curled into a fist as he pounded on the door. It was a few seconds before the door creaked open and Fiona appeared with a bright smile on her face.

“Hello, Raymond.” Her hand rested on the knob, her eyes trained on him. “I’m surprised at how quickly you came.” She eyed him up and down.

He instinctively took a step back, heat climbing his neck, setting his entire face ablaze. She was right; he had ridden like a madman to get to her.

“Please.” Her eyes twinkled with delight as she held the door wide open and stepped back. “Come right in.”

He didn’t argue. Every step he took into the building and through the halls caused his anxiety to rise. When she led him to the small study with a large desk that occupied most of the room and two chairs on either side, he settled on a chair, his body suddenly relaxing as his back contacted the cushioned chair.

Exhausted, his legs protested, his body echoing the anguish of his legs. He had spent several hours chopping wood and nearly an hour racing to town.

“Tea?” Fiona’s question drew his attention to her. He nodded numbly, his stomach growling loudly. “And some cookies,” she added, reaching for a bell. “A pot of tea and some cookies.” She spoke to an invisible figure behind him.

It took a few minutes for the maid to return with Fiona’s order. She placed the tray of steaming brewed tea and some cookies before them, before excusing herself.

Fiona rose from her position behind the desk, circling the desk until she was standing beside him. She smiled brightly and poured him a cup, lifting it up and holding it out to him.

He took it with a nod of his head, raising it to his lips and taking a small sip. The hot liquid, most likely green tea, burned his lips, searing his tongue before easing its way down his throat.

He smacked his lips and placed the cup on the table. “Why have you summoned me, Fiona?” He turned to her, his displeasure most likely clear by the frown on his face.

“Summon is such a strong word, Raymond.” She placed herself on the desk before him, her smile broadening.

“Forgive me then. Why have you demanded my presence? Those were your words, weren’t they? It was of great importance that I show up on your doorstep and from your swift response to my knock, you were expecting me.”

She sighed softly. “Very well, Raymond,” She turned from him and reached for the teapot. “I am not a woman who is easily charmed.” The sound of tea pouring into her teacup nearly drowned out her voice. She placed the teapot back on the tray and took a long sip, earning herself a scalding look from him. She withdrew the cup from her lips and placed it on the table, noticeably neglecting to place it back on the tray. Her attention returned to him, causing a cold shiver of dread to run down his spine. He knew, even before she opened her mouth to continue—he knew.

Leaning forward, she said, “Yet, here I am, charmed by you.”

He rose to his feet with such speed, his knees nearly buckled beneath him. Turning sharply from her, he made for the door.

“I own the farm, Raymond!” Her words, aimed at him, hit him squarely in the back, forcing him to a halt. “The farm you live in, the farm occupied by you and your entire family...”

He swore, turning around. She sat in her spot on the table, eyes filled with humor. “You own nothing. I bought it. I have the deed...”

She rose to her feet as he spoke, slowly making her way to him with a piece of paper dangling from her right hand. When she reached him, the muscles in his body became tense.

“Whatever you have is false, the court confirms this,” she waved the piece of paper in her hand before him, “is real.” His fingers clenched into a fist. “I do not want your farm, Raymond,”

“Good.” He hissed.

“I want you.” Her soft seductive whisper sounded like venom in his ears. Her fingers that crawled up his chest caused his skin to burn with disgust.

He jerked her hand, taking hold of her entire arm and pushing her against the closed door. “You are a sick woman.” He clenched his teeth at the smile on her face. “Stay away from me.”

He made to turn from her, fury racing through his veins. Surely, she wasn’t telling the truth! He hadn’t seen the deed she held, but everything in him feared it was real. It couldn’t be real; he couldn’t be indebted to Fiona! He couldn’t let her control his life! But she sought to do just that by gaining ownership of his land—the only thing he had left next to his!

Charmed by him! The very thought disgusted him. She knew he was married, still she shamelessly requested a filthy affair like a crazy human being.

“Do not force my hand, Raymond.” She stood in his path, her back pressed to the door. “Do not make me take this to the courthouse. You own an illegal deed to a property. You have lived and earned from a property that belongs to another. The court might demand you leave, but I will demand every dime you made on the property, paid back in full. I will demand rent for the years you have lived...”

“Stop it!” he roared, feeling trapped. Her threat sunk into him until he was slamming his fist against the door, inches away from her face. She cowered, fear clouding her eyes. “Get out of my way.” He breathed slowly, stepping back and giving her room to move from the door.

By the time she moved from the door, fury clouded his vision, nearly making it impossible for him to see the path that led to the front door.

He should not have come; his heart pounded with fear. He should never have come.