Lord Rogue

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Lord Rogue Page 16

by Patricia Rice


  “My father is getting married next Saturday. The reception will last well into the evening. I am expected to be there.”

  “I don’t suppose you would consider just walking out with me on Friday?” Travis shook his head before she even answered. “No, I can see you would not. You are driving me mad, Alicia. Do I have to kidnap you?”

  There was something so wistful in the way he said those words, so totally uncharacteristic of the self-assured man she knew, that it struck a sympathetic chord in Alicia’s heart. He was trying so hard to reach her, and she kept backing away. What would she gain by hiding from the one man who knew her past and still wanted her? She did not think anything could come of it, but she valued his friendship. Nothing she did seemed to shock him, as it had the good doctor earlier this evening. She needed this friend whose support she could count on. And perhaps, just a little bit, he needed her.

  Her gaze softening, Alicia gave in. “I can provide you with an invitation to the reception. My father promises lots of waltzes.”

  Travis set his cup down and leaned forward until the scent of his shaving soap filled her head. With the tip of his finger he lifted her chin, and his mouth came down warmly over hers.

  The gentle invasion of his tongue sent a sweet languor spreading through her body, and Alicia lost all concentration, wanting only for this moment to last forever. It couldn’t, however, and voices coming down the hall put a lingering end to this trance.

  “We’ll dance, then we’ll talk, and then I will begin showing you what you have been missing.”

  His words were whispered so softly, Alicia could have imagined them, but knew she had not. Her heart set up a hammering that would not still even when her landlady and Auguste entered the room. Heat rose to her cheeks, and Travis’s proprietary hand at her back did not relieve it. She didn’t know what she had done, but this time she would not back down.

  Becky played the part of subdued and chastised patient for several days, until Auguste knocked on the kitchen door to inquire after her health and leave a small box of candy.

  After that her cockiness returned, and she made a shambles of all attempts to teach her the wrongfulness of her ways.

  “Auguste is just a river rat like all the rest, Rebecca!” Alicia admonished as she heard for the thousandth time the man’s praises on her maid’s tongue. “Come spring, he will be gone, and then where will you be if you let him sweet-talk you into his bed?”

  “No better off than you with that Indian of yours, I suppose!” Becky retorted. “Don’t think people haven’t noticed how he always turns up when you’re around. And I sure don’t see you discouragin’ him none!”

  Alicia bit back a sharp answer. The wise little brat was right. Letitia had already warned her gently, and her father had not been placated, but Alicia didn’t intend to heed flapping tongues. Perhaps Travis was using her, but she in turn was using him. She wanted to know if she could ever be a complete woman, and Travis would be the one to teach her. Perhaps he would be gone by spring, but by then it would not matter.

  Perhaps there was little difference in herself and Becky after all. With virtue gone, it did not seem to matter so much if they fell victim to temptation. And they both preferred the not-so-tame boatmen to the proper, sedate fellows that could offer respectability. Travis had been right. None of the gentlemen her father had introduced to her had induced her to consider giving up what remained of her virtue. Only Travis with his arrogant masculinity had tempted her to reconsider her vows of celibacy.

  Even knowing what he was did not dissuade her from the folly of obtaining the invitation to the reception for him. He built keelboats and owned a saloon and was half-Indian and possibly a British spy, but he also made her laugh, talked to her of subjects beyond the weather, respected her decisions, and made her feel as if she were the most beautiful woman on earth. Why should she resist him? She had spent her life adhering to her mother’s strictures and had ended up miserable. It was time she enjoyed herself a little and worried about the consequences later.

  Chapter 17

  Alicia met Travis at the door to her father’s wedding reception and ushered him in, the tension in her greeting telling him she had seen through all his euphemisms and participated in her own seduction. The knowledge boiled the blood through his veins, and his long-denied loins responded with an urgency that could have been embarrassing had he not still worn his heavy greatcoat.

  “The wedding was marvelous. They looked so happy together.” Alicia’s voice was husky. She hastened to help him with his coat while the butler dealt with another of the arriving guests.

  “Good. They will be so engrossed in each other, they will never miss us. When can we leave?” Travis murmured in her ear as he arranged to entangle her in his coat before the butler could come to the rescue.

  Alicia sent him a shocked look, but smiled at his eagerness. She waited until they entered the safety of the crowded ballroom before replying. “The dancing is just beginning. I cannot possibly leave until everyone has arrived and is made comfortable.”

  Travis glanced at the massive bowl of punch on the buffet and the stock of champagne and grinned. “By the looks of that supply, everyone should be very happy within the hour. Dance with me every dance, and I may endure the wait.”

  “That’s impossible and you know it,” she scolded. “Make yourself at home and I will be with you as soon as I can.”

  He would not let her escape that easily. “Give me all the waltzes, then.” Travis held her hand behind her skirts where no one could see. She looked ravishing tonight with chestnut curls piled in soft swirls that looked as if they might tumble down upon her bare throat and shoulders at any moment. She wore one of those daringly simple gowns again, this one of some frail material that glimmered in soft bronzes and golds depending on her movement and the lamp light. A ruffle of delicate lace at her neckline protected her modesty, but catching his breath at the discovery, Travis noted she wore shockingly little underneath. The satin belt beneath her breasts emphasized an asset that needed no further support. A moment of blind jealousy shook him as he realized every man in the room could see what he preferred displayed only to him.

  Oblivious of this reaction, Alicia shook her head smilingly and disengaged her hand. “Two is the maximum, sir. You would not sully my reputation, would you?”

  The look she gave him was so impudent, Travis could scarcely keep from laughing. The wait would be worth every painful minute. He just might occupy himself flattening any man who dared look twice at her.

  He allowed her to slip away then, vowing that after the second waltz they would leave. He might never take her home again.

  Alicia felt Travis’s gaze following her as she circled the room, greeting guests, making certain everyone had refreshments and that the punch bowl was kept filled. Each time she glanced up from a conversation, she located his tall, broad-shouldered figure easily by the magnetic pull of his dark gaze. No matter what Travis was doing or to whom he was speaking, he would catch her glance, and the look on his bronzed visage would send a physical shock rippling through her. If the thought had occurred to her that he was using her position to further his own, she discarded it now. He scarcely paid heed to the governor himself for scowling while she danced with Sam Howard.

  At the end of that set Travis appeared at her side, his lips set in a grim line. Before he could speak, Chester Stanford hurried through the crowd to catch her attention.

  “Alicia, for heaven’s sake, find someone who knows how to waltz. Letitia has agreed to dance it just this once, but she will refuse if we are the only ones on the floor.”

  Alicia studied her father’s flushed and nervous features. He was not an overtly handsome man, but his graying hair gave him an air of distinction. It was obvious that he adored his charming new wife and wished desperately to please her.

  Ignoring the slow grin on the lips of the man at her side, Alicia promised she would join them on the dance floor. Only then did Chester give Trav
is a polite nod of recognition before hurrying off.

  “The fates are with me, it seems,” Travis drawled. “He can’t object to my escorting you on the floor now.”

  Travis might not fit the classic mold of society gentleman, but he conducted himself with all the necessary aplomb, giving no reason to complain of his manners. Society might object to his occupation or his race, but half the people here were descendants of trappers and traders. Their races and nationalities were blurred at best.

  When the waltz began, Chester and Letitia floated onto the floor. Letitia held the graceful train of her gown in a loop upon her wrist, and her tiny feet expertly followed the ease of her new husband’s steps. The look of rapture on their faces tore at Alicia’s heart strings, and her eyes were so blurred with tears she almost missed Travis’s formal bow.

  Once she was in his arms, however, pure exhilaration replaced tears. Travis moved with all the grace of which he was capable. When she looked up to him with the breathless pleasure of the music, the look in his eyes burned paths of fire to her heart. The last time they had done this in darkness. Now, beneath the glittering crystal chandelier, she could not tear her fascinated gaze from his glittering eyes. She scarcely heard the music or felt the floor as his look and touch conveyed his desires as no words ever could.

  When the dance ended, Travis refused to release his hold on Alicia’s waist. Hand on the small of her back, he conducted her through the crowded ballroom to the partial freedom of the wide entrance hall.

  “Where are we going?” Alicia asked breathlessly, not in the least sorry to leave the crush of dancers if it meant continuing this pleasant intimacy.

  “Somewhere private,” Travis muttered.

  “But we can’t leave—” Alicia glanced over her shoulder to the merrymakers behind them. No one seemed to notice their parting.

  “Just watch,” Travis responded. With a glance up and down the hallway, he steered her toward the small family parlor at the rear. “Wait here. I’ll fetch our coats.”

  Alarm swept through Alicia as he left her in this darkened room. She had time to escape, to run back to the company and bright lights, to put a halt to this madness. No matter how much she trusted him, she could not go alone with this stranger who had dominated her life. She could not.

  But she did not leave. Travis was back in moments, bearing her fur-lined pelisse, wearing his own coat.

  “My carriage is at the back gate. No one will see us leave.” Travis bundled her into her outer garments and displayed his impatience by half pushing, half carrying her out the French doors to the garden. The winter sun had set hours before, and the darkness was unbroken by anything but the lights from the ballroom.

  Once in the privacy of the covered carriage, Travis slid his hands beneath Alicia’s pelisse and pulled her to him. The sudden encroachment of his hard body frightened her, but the tingling familiarity of his mouth upon hers dissipated ghosts. Hard and warm, his lips sought hers, playing along the corners, drifting across her cheek, coming back to incite greater longings.

  “Travis, please.” Alicia pushed against his chest, panic climbing at the swiftness with which he conquered all her defenses. “You promised we would talk.”

  “And we will, my love. I just wanted to make certain you stayed warm.” Travis caressed the length of her side in the sheath of silk and pressed a kiss upon her forehead.

  “You succeeded quite nicely,” Alicia admitted as he pulled her closer and picked up the reins. Even through the layers of clothing, his palm scorched her skin. She had to be crazed, but she snuggled closer until their hips touched. “Where did you get the carriage?”

  “You are not the only one with influential friends. I borrowed it.” He grinned. “I did not think it wise to parade you through town just yet.”

  “Wise man,” Alicia commented dryly. “Where are we going?”

  “To a place where we can talk undisturbed and where I can make love to you with no one being the wiser. Such places are few and far between in this town.”

  A small frisson of fear chilled her insides. She had known this was his intention from the very first.

  She had not counted on being carried down the path to the river, away from all signs of civilization. She gasped in dismay as Travis lifted her into the keelboat. The cold wind off the water blew straight through her fragile gown. The lapping of the current against wood provided the only sound.

  “Travis, this is insane. We will freeze to death,” she whispered.

  His shoulders made even broader by the shape of his great coat, Travis’s large frame blocked out the few glowing lights of the city above. “I am not likely to let that happen,” he replied. “Come see what I have done.”

  For some reason, it did not surprise her that Travis had been the one to buy the boat back from her. What did surprise her was the use he had made of it. The cargo cabin had been converted to living quarters and office space. A high-backed desk with pigeon holes spilled over with papers and invoices in one corner. A low-slung bed with no head or footboards other than the slats holding the corner posts together graced the far end of the room. A brightly colored Indian blanket covered the linens, and the same design appeared again on the rug on the floor. Along one wall he had built a banquette that served as seating, its hard platform covered with cushions and piled high with pillows.

  “It’s lovely, Travis.” Guessing he had done most of the carpentering himself, Alicia was astounded by his talents.

  “Solved the housing and the privacy problem anyway.” With uncharacteristic modesty Travis shrugged and helped her with her pelisse.

  Escorting Alicia to the cushion-covered banquette, he lit a second lamp and adjusted the heat of the brazier. As Alicia admired his handiwork, Travis raided his small stock of wine. Glasses appeared from one of the cabinets beneath the banquette, and he placed them on the shelf behind the cushions before filling them.

  “I think you might find this more to your taste than the last batch I offered you.” Travis sat down and held out the glass.

  Hesitantly Alicia accepted the goblet, throwing Travis an uncertain look. She had no head for alcohol, and she had already drunk several glasses of champagne. Just his masculine proximity made her giddy enough. More wine did not seem prudent.

  Noticing her hesitancy, Travis set the glass back on the shelf. “I want you to be comfortable, Alicia, not asleep. Are you warm enough?”

  Without a shawl, the thin gown with its puffed sleeves provided little covering. Travis ran his fingers over her bare arm to test her comfort for himself.

  Alicia shivered beneath his touch, but she felt no cold. “I am fine. It is quite warm in here.” Nervousness made witty conversation impossible.

  Travis stood and strode around the room, adjusting the brazier again, trimming the lamp wick. He removed his fitted frock coat and threw it over the desk chair, discarding his short waistcoat at the same time. In white linen and tight trousers, with his black hair tumbling over tanned skin and the unfathomable pits of his black eyes, he appeared more pirate than Indian or gentleman. Alicia noted the muscular grace of his movements. The trousers disguised nothing of his powerful thighs and narrow hips, and his shoulders seemed to strain at every seam of his shirt.

  Alicia’s heart pounded as he sat beside her once again, but Travis did no more than bend over to remove his formal shoes.

  “I don’t know why people can’t wear moccasins all the time,” he grumbled half to himself. “If we were born to wear shoes, we wouldn’t have toes.”

  Alicia laughed softly, wishing she had the daring to touch the thick locks of his hair curled about his collar. With sudden courage she sipped the wine he had given her. He was so close, she could draw her hand down the rippling musculature of his back, but she didn’t possess that much courage.

  Travis straightened, his gaze falling approvingly on her flushed cheeks. When she set the goblet aside, he bent to taste her wine-sweetened lips.

  Alicia gasped, and her hand
came up between them, but her first touch of his wide chest destroyed her defenses as quickly as his kiss. She could feel the pounding of his heart beneath her fingertips, and the pressure of his heated mouth against hers melted her guard. She responded hesitantly at first, and then with eagerness as his mouth twisted across hers and probed for entrance.

  As she yielded, her fingers curled against his shirt, and Travis circled her waist with one powerful arm, pulling her closer. She took his tongue into her mouth, arching.against him, nearly swooning as he probed and explored and claimed what he could. Only when she tensed did he kiss the curve of her lips and the tip of her nose.

  “I know, we are supposed to talk,” he responded ruefully to the accusation in her eyes. “I just hope one of these days you’ll understand how damned difficult it is for me to look and not touch.”

  Alicia relaxed as he settled her against his shoulder. She kept her hand on the ruffle of his shirt, enjoying the sensation of his heat against her palm. “I like the touching. It is the rest that frightens me,” she murmured.

  Travis bent a kiss to her hair. “There is no need to fear. Is Mrs. Clayton expecting you home?”

  “No. She thinks I am staying at my father’s.” Alicia looked up to him questioningly.

  “And your father is not likely to be checking your room on his wedding night, is he?” Travis gave a wicked tilt to his dark brow.

  Understanding where this led, Alicia widened her eyes. “No, but the maids—”

  “Will think you returned to Mrs. Clayton,” Travis finished with satisfaction. “We have all night. Now, what is it that you want from me? My pedigree? My philosophy? Tell me what you want to know.”

  Held close to him like this, the hand about her waist playing sensuous games, his free hand drifting up and down her arm, Alicia could barely think, no less remember the questions.

  “Your parents?” she asked incoherently. “How did they meet? Do you know? Such a marriage, isn’t it unusual?”

 

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