Lord Rogue

by Patricia Rice

  The scene that met her eyes quaked her insides and stole her small store of courage. On the far edge of the field and as far as the eye could see were the domed bark wigwams of Travis’s tribe. Smoke curled from the holes in the center of each hut, and dozens of figures roamed the streets of the village. Kidnapped and held prisoner by Indians. It seemed only fitting.

  Fighting tears, Alicia marched at Travis’s heels. She ought to run. She felt certain his temper would assert itself sooner or later, but she preferred to put it off as long as possible. Surely he knew he endangered himself and his people by bringing her here. Trading went on between the Indians and the town. Someone would surely learn a white woman was held here against her will. But how long would it take?

  Her father would think she had gone downriver. It could take weeks, months before he learned she had not. By that time the child would be obvious to all, and she would be trapped. Tears burned behind her eyes. Somehow she would find her way out of this.

  Travis led her through the village. Children ran out to stare. Their mothers scolded and dragged them back to their huts. No one greeted them. Only a few old women bothered to send them curious looks. No one tried to halt them, either, and Alicia understood that Travis was an accepted intruder in the village.

  They halted before a hut slightly larger than the others, more oblong than circular. The door was pinned back, and Travis gestured to indicate that Alicia enter first. Argument would be pointless.

  She felt Travis enter behind her but she concentrated on examining her surroundings. A slight, half-naked Indian woman stirred at something in a pot over the open fire. She glanced up with surprise, but her smile of greeting for Travis was warm. Avoiding gazing at the woman’s uncovered breasts, Alicia wondered if these Indians allowed two wives, as she had heard some tribes did. That would be all she needed, to become Travis’s second wife.

  But the conversation between Travis and the woman seemed perfunctory, and Alicia gave up trying to follow the rapid spate of words. The hut had a dirt floor, but the ceiling was high enough to allow her to stand. A few colorful blankets littered the floor. Baskets whose contents she could not identify sat in one corner. A stack of furs adorned another. Surely Travis couldn’t mean her to live like this?

  He did not tell her his intentions. Ordering Alicia to remain with what sounded like Homasinee, he bent through the doorway and disappeared.

  Left alone with a stranger who could not even speak her language, in a place that was alien to everything she had ever known, Alicia nearly panicked and ran after him. Only pride prevented her. Hiding her despair, she met the woman’s dark gaze. At least Travis had not taken his anger out on her physically. Yet.

  The Indian woman—who appeared little older than herself—gestured for Alicia to have a seat among the blankets. Feeling awkwardly tall, Alicia accepted the seat, but that did not ease the awkwardness. She could not converse. She had nothing to do with her hands. She could scarcely look at the other woman without embarrassment. What on earth was she supposed to do with herself?

  Almost shyly the young woman picked up one of the baskets. Her deerskin skirt gave room for her to cross her legs and sit with the basket in her lap. Alicia would never have dreamed of sitting in such a position, even had her narrow muslin allowed it. She watched as the woman shelled what appeared to be peas into another of the baskets.

  It did not look difficult. Tentatively she held out her hand, and the woman obliged by filling it with slender pods. It took practice to keep the peas from spurting out and rolling about the floor, but Alicia finally succeeded. She did not work as swiftly as the other woman, but she had something to occupy her hands.

  When the sun was directly overhead, the woman stopped to dip two dried gourd bowls into the pot simmering over the fire. Alicia stared in dismay at the greasy stew presented to her without utensils. She was starving, but she could not imagine how to eat this. Cursing Travis with every epithet in her limited repertoire, Alicia again fought tears of despair. She couldn’t live like this. If Travis wanted to humiliate her, he had succeeded. So why wasn’t he here enjoying his triumph?

  The rumble in her stomach reminded her she had more than herself to think of. Biting back a grimace, Alicia lifted the bowl to her lips and sipped at the broth. She had tasted better, but at least it seemed edible. Copying her companion, she stuck her fingers in the bowl and fished out one of the larger chunks of meat. The meat was tough and stringy, but the nourishment settled some of her stomach’s demands.

  The day dragged on. Alicia followed Homasinee down to the river where they washed and took care of their bodily functions. Alicia became aware that the other woman was several months along in pregnancy, and jealously she again wondered if this was Travis’s Indian wife.

  By the end of the day Alicia was wondering why she had not gone ahead and sought the oblivion the river had to offer. All around her, she was aware of the men returning to their homes, the shouts of children at play, and the chatter of the other women as they prepared their evening meals. There was no sign of Travis, but Homasinee kept glancing eagerly to the doorway.

  Alicia felt slightly nauseous from the greasy meal earlier. The smells rising from the camp fires did nothing to improve her appetite. She wished she could roll up in one of the blankets and close her eyes to the world, but she would not admit her weakness. Straightening her aching back, she chopped the root vegetables that were her contribution to the evening meal.

  She had discovered earlier that Homasinee knew several words of English, but she seemed shy of using them. Since Alicia had lost all interest in communicating, she had not attempted to converse. But now, in her irritation at being abandoned, Alicia began to mutter dire imprecations under her breath.

  Homasinee sent her a curious look, but continued beating the cornmeal batter. The day had faded to twilight, leaving the interior in shadow. Feeling safer in the darkness, Alicia contemplated what weapon she could use to break Travis’s head when he entered. Something of her threat must have escaped out loud, for Homasinee gasped in surprise and horror.

  “Lonetree work hard,” she protested, startling Alicia into looking up.

  “I don’t deny that,” Alicia agreed, not knowing whether the Indian understood a word she said.

  Sensing Alicia did not understand, Homasinee tried again. “He build wigwam—home, for you.”

  That set Alicia back on her heels. She stared through the growing dusk to Homasinee’s eager expression. Travis had a home, had a house and lands and more. Why would he need a hut in an Indian village? Unless he meant to keep her there.

  The utter horror of such a life added to the weariness and degradation she already suffered, creating a burden too heavy to carry. The second Travis ducked to enter the doorway, Alicia flung the basket of unshelled peas at his head.

  Chapter 29

  Homasinee cried out in surprise, and then giggled as Travis straightened his half-naked frame and glared at his wife. He had obviously bathed in the river before returning here. His hair lay plastered against his head and neck, and rivulets of water glistened down the bronzed width of his back and chest. His temper appeared none the cooler for the dunking, though.

  “You had best pick up the mess before my cousin returns home,” Travis said curtly. “He is likely to blame Homasinee.”

  With that, he turned his back on Alicia to converse with his hostess. Alicia wondered what would happen should she bury her nails deep in the bare flesh he exposed to her. The knife in her hand would be more satisfying, but that would be a betrayal of the rage and violence she hoped to conquer, and she had not the courage to do it.

  Coldly she gathered the scattered pods, eyeing the doorway. Now that Travis had returned, she could not bear to be in the same room with him. Escape seemed essential. Perhaps it would be easier to elude him in the dark.

  As if her thoughts had triggered a silent alarm, a massive figure entered, closing the flap behind him. Alicia fell back as a tall savage stepped into the
room, stinking of smoke and something rancid. She had thought Travis formidable, but this man was terrifying. He scarcely gave her a second glance as he stepped around her and greeted the other two with a guttural growl.

  The exchange of words in a foreign language irritated Alicia further, and she drew away into a dark corner by herself. The knowledge that she had only herself to blame did not ease the pain. There were reasons why she had been expected to choose among a select group of suitors, men of her own kind who shared a common background and breeding. Why had she thought she could throw aside centuries of cultural caution, and marry a man who came from a world as alien as this one?

  She cringed as Travis gestured for her to join them at the fire. She didn’t want to sit near that beast that must be his cousin. She didn’t want any of the ghastly gruel they called food. She wanted to go home to her own bed and wake up in the morning to find this was all just a horrid dream.

  Instead she found a seat at the edge of the firelight, as far from the others as possible. The newcomer stared at her across the flames, but when Homasinee handed him a bowl of food, he turned his attention to it.

  Alicia stared at her hands until Travis’s curt tone made her jump.

  “It is the custom for the women to serve the men first. Homasinee cannot eat until you serve me.”

  Serve him! She would just as soon hit him over the head as to serve him. Something of that message must have conveyed itself through her glare, but Travis continued to stonily await her obedience. Feeling as if all eyes in the world were upon her, Alicia reached for one of the bowls.

  Alicia’s training as a lady overcame her fury, and she served the stew as if it were a delicate bouillabaisse in a porcelain bowl. She was certain Travis could see the trembling of her hands, but he did not know the full extent of her anger.

  When Alicia took nothing for herself, Homasinee scooped out a bowl and pressed it upon her. Alicia could not refuse the food, but she made no pretense at eating. Her stomach was so tense it would have rejected anything.

  Alicia ignored the low murmur of conversation around her until a cry from Homasinee made her look up. The petite woman had grown pale beneath her dark coloring, and her hand leapt to cover the small mound that was her stomach. Without a word she leapt up from the fire and ran outside.

  An anxious spate of words flew between the two men. Alicia couldn’t understand what they said. When the men grew silent, she asked, “What is it? Why did she leave?”

  Travis frowned, but his voice reflected his concern. “She does not carry the child well. She has lost others, but there is nothing they can do.”

  With a cry half of anger and half sympathy, Alicia rushed toward the door. Travis rose to stop her, but she brushed past him and vanished into the darkness.

  She returned in a few minutes with Homasinee clinging to her arm. Ignoring the men at the fire, Alicia helped the young woman to lie down on a bed of furs. Folding a stack of blankets, she placed them under Homasinee’s feet, elevating them above her head. They exchanged a few halting words, then Alicia returned to her seat just outside the firelight.

  “She ought to have a doctor.” The tone of her voice indicated her lack of expectation that this advice would be heeded.

  “There are no doctors out here,” Travis pointed out, though his gaze strayed anxiously to the prostrate figure in the shadows.

  “And, of course, the custom is for the women to work until they drop,” Alicia answered scornfully. “Tell your cousin he may as well punch her in the stomach and have done with it. It is his child, is it not?”

  “Yes.” Travis spoke to his cousin, who glanced to his wife and with a concerned frown. Travis crossed the room to Homasinee’s pallet.

  Watching him kneeling beside the Indian woman, speaking to her gently, Alicia felt the day’s tears spill. This laughing, loving, bright-eyed creature who had treated her with kindness must be the woman Travis had loved and lost. She could tell it in his gestures, the way he looked at her, the unspoken exchanges between them. Homasinee was the noble wife he had wanted and should have had, but for the circumstances of his birth.

  Without a word Alicia rose and went out the flap. She didn’t know where she was going or what she would do, but she needed the sting of the cold night breeze blowing away the stench of the hut.

  As she walked toward the outskirts of the village, she wished she had brought her pelisse with her.

  She felt no surprise when Travis’s hard arm snapped around her waist, snatching her from the ground. She had no hope of escape as long as he wanted her. She made no effort to struggle as he circled her knees and lifted her into the air. She just could not bear to look him in the eyes, but buried her face against his bare chest. The heat of his skin warmed her cheeks but not her insides.

  Travis carried her to a hut of bent saplings thatched with strips of bark and insulated with river grass that he had apparently spent the day constructing. The interior still smelled of green wood and the pine boughs he had used for their bed. Furs covered the soft bed of branches, and a variety of blankets lay scattered across the top.

  He set her down and watched as Alicia retreated to a far corner. “You cannot run from me any longer, Alicia. You are my wife now.”

  Alicia jerked nervously at the word wife. She could see his masculine silhouette against the open doorway, knew the strength of the muscles in the arms outlined against the night sky, and knew there was no escape—no escape but pride, and he had left her precious little of that. Still, she shook her head blindly, fighting the inevitable.

  “No, Travis. I was wrong. I cannot live my life with you.”

  “It is too late for that,” he said coldly, advancing into the room. “In the eyes of my people we are married. I have built my home for you to share. You will sleep in its shelter and everyone will know you as my woman. When you are ready to exchange our vows legally, I will take you back to your father and we can have the ceremony repeated in the church. But understand me, Alicia, we are husband and wife already.”

  “No! No, we are not.” Alicia backed against the wall as far as she could go, protesting the fate he assigned to her. She would never submit to this coercion. But if she did not, she might never see her father and civilization again. She could not accept either alternative.

  “Be reasonable, Alicia. It is late and we are both weary. Take off your clothes and let us sleep. Perhaps in the morning we can look at this rationally.”

  Never. He loved that woman back there in that hut, a woman who would never be his. He only wanted Alicia as a salve to his pride, a showpiece to decorate his arm just as the elegant farmhouse paraded his good taste. He wanted the power and money she could give him and the children she might bear, but he wanted the woman back there. Not her. And she did not want him. Not ever again.

  “I want my trunk,” Alicia demanded. Where was her trunk? Where were her clothes? She wanted some semblance of civilization to fall back on.

  “You won’t be needing it.” Travis dismissed the subject callously. “I want to go to bed, Alicia. I don’t want to fight you. Turn around and I will help you with the buttons.”

  He stepped closer, the breadth of his bare shoulders closing in on her, blocking her breathing. Alicia tried to slide along the wall out of his reach, but Travis caught her shoulder and held her still.

  “No, Travis, don’t!” Alicia crossed her arms over her breasts, terrified of his closeness. She didn’t know this man. He was a stranger to her. And just his presence was a threat to her existence.

  Travis dropped his hand and stepped back. “Take it off yourself, then, but if you do not do it immediately, I will rip it from you. You’re not likely to see another for a long while.”

  The import of his words sunk in with the weight of lead. She could undress for him now or go naked until he chose to return her to her father. Without clothes there was no possibility of ever leaving this room. With trembling fingers she unfastened the row of tiny buttons.

  Satisfied
, Travis moved about the room in darkness. They would be warm enough without a fire. By morning he hoped to have persuaded Alicia from her foolishness. He heard the rustle of her gown falling to the floor and began unfastening his breeches. This night he would not have to leave his bed and return her home. She was his.

  Travis stripped off his clothing, and when Alicia did not come to him, he strode across the room to find her.

  He found her still wearing her chemise and cowering against the back wall. With a curse, he ripped the frail silk away and threw it aside.

  “Don’t hide behind false modesty now, Alicia. It doesn’t become you.”

  Alicia cringed as he pulled her against him. Once she had come willingly into his embrace. Now she fought like a caged tiger.

  Travis ignored the useless kicks of unshod toes and easily trapped Alicia’s fists behind her back as he carried her to their bed. Lowering her to the pallet, he fell beside her, catching her legs beneath his.

  “Alicia, stop it. You may be angry with me now, but you cannot deny everything that has gone between us. You are my wife, you could be carrying my child, and I don’t intend to let your fear destroy it all. Let’s call a truce, Alicia, and enjoy what we have of this night together.”

  Hysterically, she struck out again.

  Travis didn’t flinch but captured her hands, holding them over her head. Alicia refused to yield, but undaunted, he spread his kisses over her lips and cheek, locating a tender earlobe and nibbling there.

  Alicia strained against him, but Travis held her trapped by his knee and thigh. As she raised upward to fight him, Travis captured the peak of her breast with his mouth.

  Alicia screamed in rage as he fastened his lips on the sensitive crest and tormented her with his tongue. It was an unequal battle at best, and when Travis’s hand released hers to travel downward and between her thighs, Alicia could only grasp the blankets on either side of her to prevent her hands from reaching for him.