"What would you like to call me?"
"Georgie calls you Mama. She calls every lady she sees Mama," he added. "She gets confused. Allie called you Mama this morning. I heard her. She must be confused, too."
"I want them to call me Mama," Taylor said.
"Then maybe I should, too," he blurted out. "That way they wouldn't get confused, would they? If I call you one thing and they call you another…"
The yearning in his voice made her heart ache. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind calling me Mama."
"Are you old enough? You don't look old enough."
His worries were endless. Taylor smiled. "I'm old enough," she assured him. "Have we settled this?"
He shook his head. "I still shouldn't call you Mama. I'm too big. I'm seven now. Babies say Mama. I should call you Mother."
She thought that was a fine idea. She put her arm around his shoulders and hugged him. "Mother it is," she whispered.
The quiet interlude was the last peaceful minute she had for the rest of the day. Lucas wouldn't let her go to the bank alone. He insisted upon accompanying her.
She hurriedly dressed in a white blouse with lace around the stand-up collar and a plain pleated black skirt. She brushed her hair and then tied it with a ribbon behind her neck.
The outfit was something a prim schoolmarm might wear, but on Taylor, the effect was devastating to Lucas. He fought the sudden urge to tear her clothes off her and make love to her. She looked proper, but he alone knew all about the passion hidden inside her, and oh, how he remembered her silky, golden skin beneath all the layers of clothing.
Victoria arrived at the door just as the waiter delivered their breakfast. Taylor's friend looked radiant. There was a pretty blush in her cheeks and a smile on her face. Her bout of morning sickness had obviously passed.
Georgie put her arms out to Victoria, called her Mama, and demanded to be held. She lifted the baby up, told her her name was Victoria, and then pointed to Taylor. In a whisper she said, "She's your mama now."
Victoria put the baby down on the settee. Hunter was standing by the window. She smiled at him. He frowned back. She thought his behavior was rather rude. She was going to offer to pour him a cup of tea, then decided against it.
Victoria was happy to watch the children while Taylor went on her errand. Hunter tried to leave then. Lucas asked him to stay. He ignored the hot glare his request evoked, opened the door for Taylor, and left his friend fuming behind him.
Lucas didn't go inside the bank with her. He waited outside the door. It was too fine a day not to stand outside in the sunshine. She was thankful for the privacy. She wanted to withdraw a large sum of money, and she didn't want Lucas asking her any questions. The cash was for the journey into the wilderness. The transaction took almost thirty minutes. The banker had to wait for confirmation by wire from the Boston bank. He wrote down her temporary address for his bank's records and finally handed her a thick envelope filled with crisp bills.
She tucked the envelope into the pocket of her coat, assured the worried-looking bank officer she didn't need an armed guard escorting her back to the hotel, and went outside where Lucas waited for her.
He was preoccupied on their walk back to the hotel and said hardly two words to her. They had just reached the lobby doors when he turned to her.
"You and I have to have a long talk."
"We do?"
"Damned right we do."
Her eyes widened over the vehemence in his tone. "All right," she agreed. "Will tonight be soon enough to suit you, Mr. Ross?"
"It will have to do, Mrs. Ross."
He added a brisk nod, then took hold of her hand and pulled her through the entrance.
"What are we going to talk about?" she asked him on their way up the stairs.
He couldn't believe she'd asked the question. "The children, Cincinnati, our marriage. Taylor, do you have the slightest idea what you've taken on?" He realized the question was a little late in coming. "We're going to have to figure out…"
She interrupted him. "You really shouldn't worry so, Mr. Ross. Worry ages a person."
There was such a crowd of people on the gallery level, they had to thread their way around clusters of people to get to the next staircase. She kept her hand in her pocket covering the envelope. She wasn't about to let a pickpocket near her. The guests all looked respectable enough, but one could still be a clever thief.
Lucas wasn't able to talk to her again until they were on the way up the second flight of steps. "I've been accommodating, haven't I?" he asked her.
"Yes, of course," she replied. She was out of breath from running to keep up with him. Mr. Ross was taking the steps two at a time. He acted as though he was running from an angry mob.
"Do slow down," she ordered. "You've been a perfect gentleman… most of the time. I cannot keep up with you, sir."
"I can't keep it up, Taylor."
"Then slow down, for heaven's sake."
It dawned on him they weren't talking about the same thing. "I meant I can't keep on being a gentleman. It isn't in my nature."
He didn't look like he was jesting. "Are you apologizing for being nice?"
"I'm not apologizing for anything," he muttered. "I'm simply telling you I can't keep it up."
"It's all been a…"
"Yes."
She bowed her head so he wouldn't see her smile. She didn't want him to think she wasn't taking his remarks seriously. She wasn't, of course, but she didn't want him to know it. He sounded so sincere and earnest.
"If you don't like being nice, why are you?"
He was ready for the question. "Your grandmother gave me money and in return I promised to look out for you. There were other conditions attached, and I kept every one of them."
"Name one of the conditions, please."
They reached the door to their room. Neither one of them reached for the doorknob.
"I shared the same cabin with you on the ship," he said. "That was one of your grandmother's stipulations."
She shook her head. "You told me she only wanted you to secure one room. I'm certain Madam didn't want you in my bed."
He snorted. She folded her arms in front of her in response to the rude noise. Lucas seemed to be spoiling for a fight, and she was suddenly quite happy to accommodate him.
"Are you telling me being a gentleman was one of Madam's conditions?"
"Yes."
"Was it also a condition for you to share the hotel room in Boston with me?" she asked. "And this hotel room as well?"
"No."
"Then why did you?"
He couldn't come up with a single answer that sounded remotely logical.
"Where I slept isn't important," he argued. "I'm concerned about the future, not the past."
He wanted her to understand there would have to be changes. They were man and wife now, and she was going to have to make a few allowances. When she realized he was willing and determined to live in the city so the children could have every advantage, she would surely be willing to put up with his surly moods.
She should also try to love him a little.
He'd explain everything tonight. He'd start by telling her he wasn't going to leave her to raise the children on her own. "You and I are going to have to work out the details. We'll sit down after the children are in bed."
She wasn't listening to a word he'd just said. She was still thinking about an earlier remark. "Why did you stay on in Boston?" she asked. "Now that I think about it, you really could have left as soon as the boat docked."
"Ship," he corrected.
"Excuse me?"
"It was a ship, not a boat. And I stayed on in Boston because you wanted me to, remember? There were papers to sign. After that, there were a couple of babies to find. Remember them?"