Southern Seduction Page 20

  Travis’s face clouded with uneasiness and she was certain that he already thought her guilty and really didn’t want to hear the facts. But then, as he usually did, he surprised her by saying, “I’ve always considered myself a fair man.”

  Brooke motioned to the chair. “Would you like to sit down?”

  “No,” he snapped, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

  Brooke took a deep breath. She knew what he must be thinking. It irritated her that he hadn’t bothered to give her the benefit of the doubt. At least until he heard her out.

  She sat in the middle of the bed her back ramrod straight. She needed to remain calm. Brooke would not cower in front of him, or any man. She might not be proud of her past, but at the same time there’d been little else she could do. She’d had to survive.

  But that was in the past.

  “I believe you know that I was raised in a girl’s school,” Brooke began, her outward calm belying her inner turmoil.

  His lips twisted with amusement. “That wasn’t a lie?”

  “Travis --” Brooke took a calming breath, “–- I have never lied to you. I might not have told you everything about my life, but I’ve never lied to you,” she said, daring him to say more.

  Instead he nodded for her to go on.

  “If you remember the stormy night we lost the sugarcane, I told you then my mother was killed, but what I didn’t tell you was that three days after the funeral, my father, the Duke of Winterland, cut off my funds. I was tossed out on the street with the clothes I was wearing and nothing more. I was frightened and hungry. I had no family . . . no one to turn to. And most of all, I had no money.” She clutched her hands to keep from shaking; the mere thought of that time terrified her, even after so many years had passed.

  “Can you imagine what that was like, Travis?” Brooke looked at him, holding his gaze. “You say your life has been hard, but your experience was nothing compared to mine. You’ve always had a family, even if they were difficult. And you have had your mother near you. So don’t even try to tell me that you know what I’ve been though,” Brooke said and dared him to say anything to the contrary.

  To his credit, Travis remained quiet.

  “After three days on the streets,” Brook continued, “three days with no food and sleeping in alleys and dodging lectures. I remembered my mother had told me if anything happened to her, and I was in trouble to look up her friend, Fanny Sinclair. I dug down deep in my reticule and thankfully found the woman’s address.

  “Fanny was gracious, and she took me in with open arms. She told me she owed my mother a great deal. At first, I didn’t know Fanny was a courtesan, but later I figured it out. And then she told me my mother had been a courtesan, too.

  “Fanny never encouraged me to go into the business. However, I couldn’t continue living off of her. I had no other way of making a living, so I asked her to teach me how to use the one thing I had, my beauty, to make a living. I knew I didn’t want to be poor or live with another family as a servant, depending on them for my room and food.

  “I didn’t want to be a courtesan, Travis. You’ll have to believe me, but I knew what it was like to be hungry and have no money. I didn’t want to be a common whore, so I chose only old, wealthy men, men who enjoyed lavishing money and jewels on me. Only a few of them were even capable of having relations. Most just wanted to go around town with a beautiful woman on their arms, so their peers would be jealous.”

  “How could you do that?” Travis rasped.

  “When you need money, you’ll do just about anything. I learned to turn off my emotions. I became numb, only going through the motions until the job was done. Then I met Jackson, and he offered to get me out of the business. He was like a father to me. He never made those kinds of demands of me. If he went to the opera, I would accompany him, but never did I sleep with your father,” Brooke said. “I’m sure there were those who thought I was Jackson’s mistress, given my past, but there was nothing I could do about that.

  “That was three years ago. Then, your cousins Jocelyn and Shannon came to live with us, and they became sisters to me.”

  “Why did they move in?”

  “They both have their reasons, but I don’t want to go into them. It’s not my story to tell. Jocelyn and I were good friends in school, so I already knew her.” Brooke thought of her friends, wishing she could see them now. “If you should ever get to meet them, you would like them.”

  Travis’s left eyebrow rose a fraction. “And my father just took them in?”

  “I know you never got to see that side of your father, but he was a caring man, and he loved the girls.”

  “I suppose it was just me that he couldn’t love,” Travis said sarcastically.

  “That isn’t true. I believe Jackson did love you, though he didn’t show it well. When he got sick he wanted to be sure he could leave us enough to get by on. Shannon and Jocelyn wanted to come to America, and Jackson thought that would be a good idea. It would be a way for me to leave the past behind and to start a new life.” Or so I’d thought, she said to herself, pausing. She gave a half-hearted laugh. “He never said anything about the plantation until he was dying and he most certainly didn’t say anything about you.”

  Travis’s brow arched in ironic amusement. “I have no doubt of that.”

  Brooke ignored his sarcasm. “I didn’t know any of the details until I arrived at Moss Grove. However, your father did say one thing before he died that didn’t make any sense to me then, but it does now.”

  Travis folded his arms. “So, are you going to tell me?”

  “Jackson told me he was trying to right a wrong.” She watched Travis’s brow rise in question, so she explained. “I believe he knew that he had not done right by you, and he wanted to make up for it. Somehow, Jackson sensed we were very much alike. I have no doubt he sent me to you,” Brooke finished in a whisper.

  She was more shaken than she cared to admit. She felt achy and exhausted now that she’d poured everything out. There wasn’t anything else she could do or say. What happened next was up to Travis.

  Travis had so many emotions swirling around in his head and heart that he felt like he’d been in a fist fight. Strange and disquieting thoughts raced through his mind. “Well, I don’t know whether to thank Jackson or slug him, if he were still alive.”

  “When I first met you, slugging Jackson did cross my mind, too,” Brooke admitted, smiling.

  Travis chuckled and pushed himself away from the chair. Somehow, his anger had been washed away, and all he could see now was a beautiful, scared creature sitting in the middle of the bed, her golden hair cascading around her.

  Brooke was right. He couldn’t possibly know what it was like to be thrown out into the street with no hope. His heart actually ached for her. And he had believed that his childhood had been bad.

  Just thinking about all the things that could have happened to Brooke gave him chills.

  When Travis reached the bed, and Brooke, he wasn’t sure what to do or how he felt, so he acted on instinct. He sat on the edge of the bed and removed his boots. Then he climbed onto the bed. Brooke still sat in the middle of the bed like a frighten animal. She turned and watched him warily, but she didn’t move.

  Travis propped the pillows behind him and leaned back against them. He was still unsure what to say. He didn’t have the correct words to describe what he felt for Brooke, so he’d have to show her. Finally, he opened his arms to her, and she came to him without hesitation.

  Travis gathered Brooke into his arms. Without a word, she turned her face into his chest and wept. He had a feeling that it had been a very long time since Brooke had cried. She had probably had to be strong for so long that it had built inside her. Most women would have cried through the telling of the story, but Brooke never flinched.

  She never begged for his forgiveness because there was nothing to forgive. She had done what she had to, never blaming anyone for her fate. He was proud of her, he thought as
he stroked her hair and let her cry. Sometimes crying cleansed the soul.

  Neither of them said anything. Words were not necessary. This was a night of healing.

  A little later, when she’d fallen asleep in an exhausted slumber, Travis whispered, “I love you.”

  The next morning Brooke was emotionally spent when she woke up in Travis’s arms. She gazed up at him, admiring his firm jawline and handsome face. There was nothing boyish about Travis. He was all man, and she loved him more than she’d ever thought she could. Even after last night’s unpleasantness, she felt safe when she was in his arms.

  Last night Travis had surprised her. He had not criticized her. He’d simply offered her comfort as if he truly understood. Did he? It was most unusual for a man.

  Travis’s eyes opened. Once the sleep cleared, he looked at her with tenderness. She could also see desire smoldering in his blue eyes, making them appear very dark this morning. Was he purposely letting her see how he felt? It would help if he told her he loved her, but that he hadn’t done.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked in a raspy voice.

  Brooke nodded. “And you?”

  He gave her a slow smile. “I always sleep well when you’re in my arms.”

  Tenderness swept over Brooke. She reached up to touch his face. His jaw was rough with stubble since he’d neither shaved nor gotten undressed from the night before. He turned his head and kissed her hand.

  “I love you, Travis,” Brooke said, “But I can understand if you no longer want me as your wife.”

  Travis pulled her up to him and kissed her with a tenderness that Brooke knew she’d never be able to forget. His mouth came down on hers with fierce hunger, and Brooke twined her arms around his neck. She parted her lips, and Travis groaned, clasping her tighter as if he’d never get enough of her.

  Finally, he tore his mouth away and whispered, “I want you, darling now and always.”

  Brooke’s heart gave a wild leap. She felt happier than she could ever remember. They didn’t make love. Instead, Travis shaved and dressed in clean clothes while Brooke took care of her own toilet. He went ahead, telling her that he’d meet her in the dining room.

  When Brooke was finally ready, she left the cabin. The fog was so thick that moving about the boat was difficult. Still Brooke tried to make her way through the white mist. Every once in awhile a body just seemed to jump out at her, though the other person was merely walking down the walkway. She made herself smile and tried not to be so jumpy. There was no reason to be that way. It was just a little fog. It couldn’t hurt her. But still, Brooke had the oddest feeling.

  Brooke heard a commotion coming out of the clinging fog, and since she couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from, she decided to stop at the rail until whatever it was had passed.

  Up above her, Captain Leathers was swearing at the pilot to watch out and make sure they didn’t hit anything.

  Certain that the commotion was over, Brooke turned and bumped into Travis’s mother, who must have been standing behind her. “I’m sorry,” Brooke said. “I didn’t see you.”

  “I don’t wonder. It’s impossible to see anything this morning,” Margaret snapped. “Where is Travis?”

  “He went on ahead of me. I think he’s already in the dining room.”

  Margaret put her hands on her hips. “I hope you don’t plan on making any changes at Moss Grove,” she said abruptly. “We like it the way it is. We don’t need anyone from the outside interfering.”

  “I rather like Moss Grove myself,” Brooke told her. Brooke realized that Margaret was trying to establish who would be mistress of Moss Grove, and she did what she could to mollify her. If the woman had been the least bit cordial, Brooke would never interfere, but she wasn’t about to let the irritating woman have the upper hand.

  “Moss Grove isn’t your home, young woman,” Margaret snapped. “So don’t get used to living there,” she warned Brooke. “Travis told me exactly why he married you. It’s a pity he had to stoop so low. At least after a year he’ll be free to marry his rightful fiancée once he divorces you.”

  This woman was vicious. “He told you that?” Brooke asked, unsure of what to believe.

  Margaret laughed. “Of course he did. You don’t really think that he loves you, do you? My son told me he did what was necessary to save the plantation, which has always come first with him.”

  Brooke folded her arms. “I hate to tell you this, Ms. deLobel, but I’m half owner of Moss Grove. So I can do pretty much as I please with my half,” Brooke told her, entertaining a lovely dream of tossing the woman out. “If you insist on causing trouble,” Brooke said, because she could see that was the woman’s intension, “I’m sure other arrangements can be made for you.”

  Margaret stepped closer to her, poking one sharp finger toward her face. “Now you listen to me,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “You will not talk to me like that. I’m going right now to find Travis. He won’t appreciate how you have treated his mother.”

  Brooke watched as the woman stormed off into the fog. The old harridan. As Margaret hurried off, Brooke turned to the rail trying to gather her wits before she had to face that battleaxe again over breakfast.

  Could Travis really be playing her for a fool? Brooke really didn’t think so. She believed that Travis loved her, though he’d never said as much. If only all this weren’t so new to her, she might know what to do. She breathed in a deep sigh. What if Travis was just a very good actor?

  Brooke decided she had better go on and find her way to the dining room. At least there, she’d have the comfort of seeing Travis. Perhaps, if she could see him, she could sense what he was truly feeling.

  Suddenly, without warning, something hard slammed into Brooke’s back, knocking her over the rail. So shocked at what had happened she could barely scream as she flailed about, trying to find a handhold. Her dress caught on something, and for just a moment, she thought she’d been saved. But her salvation was short lived.

  The deadly sound of ripping fabric told Brooke that her luck had not held. The dress tore and she plummeted downward toward the dark water below.

  Brooke screamed as she flailed wildly through the air, hoping to grab anything to stop her plunge. Why wasn’t anybody there to help her?

  Oh, God, she thought, she was going in the water. This was the end.

  Would anybody save her?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Travis wondered what was keeping his wife. How long did it take her to get ready?

  For the third time in the last five minutes, he glanced at the door. No Brooke, to make matters worse, his mother had decided to make her appearance and was striding toward the table. At least she was alone.

  "The fog is terrible this morning," Margaret said as Travis held out a chair for her.

  "Yes, it is,” he replied. “Captain Leathers isn't happy about the fog. It makes his job just that much harder,” Travis explained as he moved back to his seat. “You didn’t happen to see Brooke?"

  Margaret unfolded the linen napkin and placed it across her lap. "Seeing anybody in this murky mess would be difficult. However, I did see her talking with a gentleman as I made my way here. I asked her if she’d like to walk with me to breakfast, but she declined my invitation.” Margaret managed to shrug and say off handedly, “The woman definitely needs better manners, and if you ask me, she was standing much too close to the man with whom she was speaking.”

  Margaret looked around. “I would have thought that she’d join us by now. Does she make a habit of being late?" she asked with an eyebrow raised indicating her disapproval.

  "Brooke isn't late, Mother. I was early,” Travis told her without bothering to hide his irritation. He stood up. He couldn’t imagine who Brooke could be talking to. She didn’t know that many people in America. “I'm going to see what has delayed her."

  “As you wish, son,” Margaret said as she reached for her café au lait. Then she added, "Perhaps you should inquire after
Hesione. I couldn't persuade her to come to breakfast, even though she was already dressed."

  Travis didn't bother to answer as he went in search of his wife. Once outside, he noticed that the shores of the river had been so blurred by the lingering fog that they were almost invisible.

  He hadn't gone more than five feet when he came across Captain Leathers. Could Leathers have been the one Brooke had been speaking with?

  With long, purposeful strides, Travis covered the distance to the captain. “Have you seen my wife this morning, captain?”

  "No,” Leathers said, rubbing his chin. “Of course, I could have walked right past her and might never have seen her. You can’t see anybody unless you are on them. This thick fog is a damnable mess," the captain grumbled. “The only good thing is that Annie Johnston has to travel through this fog as well.”

  Travis pulled out his gold case and offered a cigar to the captain. “Looks like you could use a good smoke.”

  “Thanks.”

  "Have you ever seen it this bad before?" Travis asked him.

  "Once or twice,” he said, shrugging. “Most of the time the sun comes up and burns the fog away. I’ve seen it happen and rather quickly, too," Leathers said, stroking his red beard. “Let’s hope it does so today.”

  "Have you already eaten breakfast?" Leathers asked, abruptly changing the subject.

  "Not yet,” Travis replied, shaking his head. “I was waiting for my wife. It appears I will have to go and find out what is taking her so long."

  The captain placed a hand on Travis’s shoulder. “Listen, son. From my experience with women, when it comes to dressing, they never move quickly.” Leathers chuckled. “You’re young. You still have much to learn.”

  The captain looked searchingly out into the fog. "I'm going to send out a yawl and some oarsmen with poles to sound out the river. The river is low and it would be disaster if we hit any of those sandbars.” He turned quickly. “I’ll see you back in the dining room."