down with a soft sigh. Madge wanted to make her face life squarely. Why was Sally so shy? Seemed Madge had gotten too much boldness and Sally none.
“Very well, Mother,” Sally murmured, twisting her hands and looking so miserable Madge had to quell her frustration. At least Mother didn’t relent and let her go, as she often did.
Mother pulled aside the curtain. “He’s coming.” She sat down and feigned disinterest.
Not prepared to pretend she wasn’t filled with curiosity, Madge planted herself in front of the window. Macat climbed to the ledge to join her. “He’s driving a Mercedes Roadster. About a 1929 model, if I’m not mistaken. Makes our old Model A look as pathetic as it is. He must have washed his car before he left town.”
“Madge, get away from the window. He’ll think we’re spying.”
“Mother, I am spying. And if he thinks we shouldn’t be interested, well… He’s getting out now.” She laughed aloud. “And he’s wiping the dust from the fenders. If he figures to keep his pretty car dust free he’ll have a full-time job.”
Louisa hissed. “Madge, stop staring. He’ll think we have no manners.”
“No. He’ll think I have no manners. You’d never give him reason to think it of you.”
Louisa giggled.
Madge didn’t have to look to know her pretty sister had blushed becomingly. Everything Louisa did was pretty and becoming.
“I couldn’t stand to work with a man who wasn’t clean and tidy,” Louisa said.
“Well, this one is downright fastidious. And he’s headed this way.” Madge turned from the window. But only to move toward the door to invite the man in. And give him a good once-over before she allowed him to spend time with her older sister.
She waited for the knock, then pulled the door open. The man before her sported a beard. His hair was short and tamed. His dusty suit hung on his body as if he’d recently lost weight. His subdued coloring supported the idea. He seemed faintly familiar. As she stared, he turned away and coughed.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I’m here to tutor Miss Louisa.”
“Have we met before?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Didn’t I run into you on the sidewalk a week ago? Literally.”
“Ma’am. I’m sure I would recall such a thing.”
She stared into dark eyes. They no longer probed, but she would never forget them. Yet no flicker of recognition echoed in the man’s face.
Could she be mistaken? She tried to recall every detail of the encounter. Certainly this man looked tidier, wore schoolteacher clothes, and slouched—but the eyes. How could she be confused about them?
She hesitated, not yet inviting him in. What reason would he have for pretending she hadn’t seen him before? And why did her heart feel shipwrecked at the idea of Mother choosing this man for Louisa?
Madge sucked in bracing air, straightened her shoulders and stepped back. She was not one to entertain fanciful ideas. Not Madge Morgan, who was practical to the core.
“Please, come in.” Whoever he was, whatever he hid, she’d watch him so keenly he’d never succeed in doing anything but what he was meant to do—tutor Louisa.
Chapter Two
Judd knew she recognized him, but it was imperative he remain incognito. He’d grown his beard, cut his hair and changed his appearance as much as possible. He’d even found a suit coat that hung on him, hoping to persuade anyone who cared to notice that he’d lost a lot of weight. Of necessity he would give a false name, for if his prey heard his real one, he might suspect something. He did not want the man warned and cautious.
Mrs. Morgan joined her daughter. “Madge, this is the man I told you is to tutor Louisa. Justin Bellamy. Please come in, Mr. Bellamy.”
Judd limped into the room. He figured a lame leg and poor lungs would complete his disguise.
He immediately saw the young woman who would be his pupil. A chinalike beauty in a pale pink dress sat beside a table laden with textbooks and sketch paper. A small white dog with black spots sat on her lap, studying Judd with interest. He figured Louisa’s hands on the dog’s back persuaded the animal not to go into attack mode. Though the dog would offer little threat.
“My daughter, Louisa.”
Judd bowed. “Ma’am, I understand you’re interested in furthering your education.”
Louisa smiled—sweet and gentle—a marked contrast to the decisive study from Madge, who followed him across the room like a cat watching a pigeon, waiting for the right time to pounce.
He sucked in air and remembered to slouch as if it hurt to walk. She could play guard cat all she wanted. He refused to have his feathers ruffled.
As if to reinforce Judd’s feeling of being stalked, a big gray cat jumped from the window ledge and sauntered over to examine the toes of his boots.
Louisa spoke, drawing his attention back to her. “I’d love to go to university. Unfortunately…” She trailed off, but he understood the many things she didn’t say. It was too costly. Her health wouldn’t allow it. It simply wasn’t practical. But she was fortunate her mother cared enough about her thirst for knowledge to hire a tutor. He would do what he could to satisfy her.
“It’s a stimulating environment. I’ll do my best to share some of what I learned.”
She leaned forward, eagerness pouring from her in waves. “I especially want to learn the history of the great artists. And if you would be so good as to…” Her voice fell to a whisper. “Tell me what it’s like to be surrounded by so much learning, so much knowledge.” As if uncomfortable with her burst of enthusiasm, she ducked her head, but not before he’d seen the flood of pink staining her cheeks.
“I’ll do my very best.”
To his left he could feel Madge building up a boiler full of steam.
Mrs. Morgan saved them both from the explosion he feared would sear the skin off him. “This is my youngest daughter, Sally.”
Judd turned, noticed for the first time the younger girl shrinking back against her chair at the far side of the table.
Her gaze darted to him and away. Then she lifted her head and gave him a sweet smile. “Welcome, Mr. Bellamy.”
“Justin, please.” He’d never remember he was Mr. Bellamy, but at least Justin started the same as Judd, which is why he’d chosen the name. He remembered to cough as he glanced around the circle of women. Madge’s gaze waited, hot and demanding. He gave his most innocuous look, rounding his eyes in faux innocence.
“I’ll show you to your quarters,” Madge said, her voice full of warning. “Then you can get to work.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She pulled her lips into a terse expression, and her eyes narrowed before she spun around.
He followed her swift stride outside, his own pace slow and measured, though he fought an urge to march to her side and match her step for step. As the wind blasted him in the face, he gave a cough for good measure.
She waited by his car. “Get your things and follow me. It’s just across the yard.”
Mrs. Morgan had said he’d have his own private quarters when he spoke to her in town, having arranged an interview there. Another reason to convince him he wanted this job. He would be able to slip in and out unnoticed as he tracked his foe.
He followed her to a tiny house—one small window, a narrow door and a low roof. She opened the door and stepped inside