Page 72 of The Banker's Bride

The older woman walked over to her slowly, her eyes filled with concern. “Are ye all right?”

She stopped what she was doing and looked into her eyes. “Yes, I’m fine.” She resumed putting away the groceries, but Mrs. Daly stopped her.

“Dinner can wait.” She took her hand and led her to the table. “Sit down and let’s talk.”

Megan did as she asked, letting her hands fall limply to her sides as tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill over.

Mrs. Daly took one of her hands and gave it a gentle pat. “Now, now. It can’t be all that bad.”

Megan pulled her hand away. “Oh, yes it can.”

“Talk to me.” She gave her a sorrowful look. “What happened?”

Megan shook her head. “It’s Dallas.” Anger flooded back to her at the mere mention of his name. But she knew she couldn’t talk to Mrs. Daly about him, since she was his employee.

Mrs. Daly sighed as she gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Being married is hard at first. Why, I remember when Mr. Daly and I first married.” She chuckled. “It was quite an adjustment.”

Megan nodded as tears came to her eyes. She couldn’t speak or she would start crying.

Mrs. Daly calmly took her hand. “Mr. King’s a good man.” She thought for a moment and frowned. “Megan, I have something to tell ye.”

Curious, she looked up and waited.

She let out a deep breath, holding her hand. “Since ye arrived, I’ve seen a big change in him. Oh, he was always a gentleman, but the way he looks at ye… I know he cares for ye very much.” A thoughtful smile lit her lips. “Mrs. King, a man can change for the better. Remember that.” Mrs. Daly released her hand as she smirked. “And nothing changes a man like a good woman.”

Megan nodded, feeling a bit better. “Thank you, Mrs. Daly.”

“Think nothing of it, madame.”

“Please.” Megan smiled. “Call me Megan when we’re alone.”

Mrs. Daly chuckled. “I’ll try, ma’am… I mean… Megan.”

As she started fixing dinner with Mrs. Daly, she felt much better. Having the camaraderie of another woman in the kitchen was just what she needed. They spent the next hour laughing and talking as they prepared the meal together… and Megan hadn’t felt happier. She just wished that she and Dallas could reach a compromise, too. Then everything would be perfect.

Chapter 17

Dallas

Dallas waited in the parlor with Charles, smoking a cigar and enjoying a brandy, thinking of Megan. How dare she defy him… and in front of his friend? She was his wife, wasn’t she? That meant that she had to do as he asked. And cook dinner? He scoffed. The lady of the house didn’t cook. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford a chef. But now, his wife felt the need to give the chef the night off to cook dinner herself. He took a sip of his brandy, wondering if he would ever survive his wife.

“What’s on your mind?” Charles asked, sitting in an armchair by the fire across from him.

Dallas shook his head, swirling the caramel-colored liquid in his glass.

“So, she wants to cook dinner one night?” Charles shrugged. “I’d let her. Hell, if I had a wife, I’d be delighted if she wanted to cook occasionally.”

Dallas glanced over at him. “How so?”

Charles looked into the fire. “It would tell me that she was the kind of woman who didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. That she was down to earth.” He scoffed. “Most of the women I know wouldn’t dream of it.”

“See what I mean?” Dallas stood and walked over to the fire, leaning onto the mantel above the fireplace.

Charles’s eyebrows pulled together in concern. “I’m not following.”

Dallas sighed. “Women of substance have cooks or chefs, they do as their husbands say, and they don’t clean the house after a party.”

Charles chuckled. “Well, I’d be thankful that she isn’t afraid to push up her sleeves and pitch in. Besides, what harm would it do?” He raised and lowered his shoulders. “Let her….” Then he lowered his voice conspiratorially. “But don’t let her know that you’re letting her.”

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