Inside the shop, an elegantly dressed shop clerk hurried to greet them. Her gaze darted from Alicia’s exquisite muslin to Travis’s informal attire, to the babe wrapped in shawls. “May we be of assistance, madam, monsieur?” she murmured.
“Is Madame Helena not in?” Travis scarcely heeded the clerk. He had brought Alicia to the best seamstress in town, and he had little patience for those in between.
“Madame is very busy. Perhaps if I could . . .”
Travis recognized her ploy and lost his patience. “Tell Madame that Lonetree is here and insists that his wife have the very best. If she no longer qualifies, I will be happy to take her next door.”
“Travis!” Horrified, Alicia stared at him in shock.
But the assistant had already hurried away.
Within minutes a short, stout, black-haired Frenchwoman with wings of gray above her temples hurried out to greet the newcomers. “Monsieur Lonetree, you are a sight for these old eyes! Bienvenu! And, madam, it is a pleasure.”
Effusively she made over Alicia, the babe, and Travis, dragging them back into her office, ordering refreshments, assigning one of the young girls from the shop to watch over Dale while others were sent scurrying for materials and designs. Alicia lifted a mocking eyebrow to Travis, but he grinned and lifted a shoulder.
Alicia pointed to a design of a simple Empire gown with a high-necked frill covering the bosom. “May I have this in a dark blue muslin?”
Travis shook his head. “You may want one of those for teaching school, but you don’t need one now.” Travis turned to Madame Helena. “Our luggage was lost on our journey downriver. We need whatever the lady chooses as soon as possible. She will need at least one day gown and a dinner dress for tomorrow, and as many more as possible by the day after, including an evening gown. Bring out what you are working on that might be suitable, and then we shall decide on those to be made up.”
Over the protest of the women, Travis had his way. Alicia tried on a yellow silk that even with the matching chemise showed off a great deal of bosom. As the seamstresses pinned and basted, she chose from the designs that Travis had the frantic modiste produce.
Alicia had to admit that his choices were admirably suited to her taste with a minimum of frills and furbelows, but his eye tended toward the more sensual patterns that she had always avoided. When he appeared in the fitting room to demand why she had rejected the silver-blue silk for the evening gown he had chosen, Alicia nearly flung the cushion full of pins at him while the seamstresses went into a twitter at his masculine presence.
“I cannot wear a gown that conceals nothing but my shoes, Travis! I will not be gawked at by every man, woman and rake in the city! That silk leaves nothing to the imagination. I would have to hide behind potted plants all evening.”
Since the silk in question was the most expensive in stock, Madame hastened to intervene. “Non, madam! It is of the very most elegant quality. With a figure such as yours—” she gestured toward the stars—“you will be the envy of every woman, and monsieur will be the envy of every man. You will see, the choice is perfect.”
Alicia scowled, but the silk was admittedly of exquisite quality. She just could not imagine herself wearing it. For too long she had worn the dark, modest clothes her mother had chosen for her. She might be daring and try the prettier, livelier colors, but this . . .!
Travis won nearly every battle, though Alicia managed to neutralize most of his victories by ordering shawls and spencers and high-necked chemises to match his more extravagant choices. Perhaps in England and France they wore these fashions, but they were still in the United States. She could not help but imagine the eyebrows of St. Louis society should she wear these styles in public.
As they prepared to leave, the young girl tending Dale reluctantly returned him to Alicia’s arms. “Le petit est tres bon,” she murmured.
Struck with a sudden thought, Alicia tugged at Travis’s sleeve. “A maid, Travis We will need someone to look after Dale and help me with my hair if we are to do much visiting. Would Madame Helena know of anyone?”
The young girl overheard and bobbed a curtsy before Travis could speak. “I am very good with the little ones, monsieur. And I have the practice at coiffures. Madame says I am a very poor seamstress, for I have no experience in needlework, but I have been maid to Mademoiselle Dubonnier for these three years.”
Travis glanced to Madame Helena, raising an eyebrow in inquiry. Madame understood. ”She is very trying with the needles, but indeed, she does have the experience she speaks of. She is my niece. Foolish thing that she is, she did not wish to return with the Dubonniers to France, so I have kept her with me. She is a good girl. She would work hard.”
Pleased with the girl’s manner and fondness for Dale, Alicia awaited Travis’s decision. Accustomed as she was to making her own decisions, it did not come easily to defer to someone else, but this morning’s battle had taught her Travis had his own opinions. If she were to make this marriage work, it would be best to at least enlist his thoughts on the matter.
After a rapid spate of French, negotiations were concluded, and Anne-Marie was sent to pack her bags. Madame Helena promised to see her delivered with the first finished gowns in the evening.
They left the dressmakers and headed to the haberdashers to replenish Travis’s wardrobe, with eyes for no one but each other.
Later, garbed in new finery, they walked the streets of New Orleans after dinner, enjoying their first free time together in weeks.
“Is there any city you do not know?” Alicia asked as he pointed out the sprawling hotel where his father was staying.
“Philadelphia,” he answered. “Someday, you will have to show it to me.”
Somewhat mollified by this prospect, Alicia wrapped both gloved hands around Travis’s arm and strolled through the mild January night with delight. Her pelisse kept out any chill, and Travis’s proximity warmed her blood. The heated glance he bent to her sent her temperature soaring higher.
“How much longer must I wait before you admit that you are my wife?” Travis murmured, his gaze roaming hungrily over her.
Heart pounding, Alicia struggled for reply. She knew what he asked, and it was past time that she gave her consent. Perhaps he would learn to love her with time. Surely he did not find her lacking when he looked at her like that.
“I am your wife, Travis, for better or worse. I do not want you to go away again.”
Turning her toward home, Travis responded to what she didn’t say. “I am not your father, Alicia. I left because you did not want me, and I could not stay without hurting you. I thought that was what you wanted. I think I know better now, but I would hear it from you. I want to stay as your husband, not as a replacement for your father.”
Eyes hooded, she murmured, “I am quite glad to hear that. My father sends me off to bed with a kiss on the cheek, and I was beginning to think you had decided to do the same.”
Travis stopped in his tracks, forcing the people behind to eddy around them. Apparently her eyes gave her away, and the laughter and love there demolished all restraint. Catching her up in his arms, Travis hugged her.
His kiss sent Alicia’s senses swirling, giving her no time to protest this public exhibition. She wrapped her hands around Travis’s neck, while her heart pounded a wild tattoo. Her lips clung to his, drinking of his warm breath and intoxicating her with his masculine scent, while her body rejoiced in the strength and power of his embrace. She was back in his arms again, and nothing could part them now. The addiction was too strong to resist any longer.
“We are still some blocks from the house, and I cannot make love to you here in the middle of the street,” he said, returning Alicia to the ground. Anxiously he searched her face. “You will not change your mind and attack me for my past transgressions before we reach the house? I can find us a room for the night right here if you think your resolve will waver before then.”
Alicia laughed and stroked the high cheekbone of
his dark face. “You will have to take your chances. We cannot leave Anne-Marie alone with Dale all night, even if he is well behaved and consents to sleep the remainder of the evening.”
“Who mentioned all night? I would settle for an hour. Just an hour. I can whisk you right up those stairs over there and—”
Giggling at his eagerness, Alicia caught his hand and turned toward home. “You can tell me what you mean to do on the way home. That should keep me from straying.”
“No more complaints about the bed or my checkered past or my unromantic behavior?” Travis tested his limits.
“Oh, no, you go too far. I must have something to complain of. Your high-handed arrogance and bullying behavior is not enough. I prefer specifics.”
Travis roared his laughter. Hand to the small of her back, he hurried her down the street. “Fine. Then you may complain of the way I unbutton your gown or my slowness in removing your garters or the number of times I intend to ravish you before dawn. That should be specific enough.”
A shiver of pleasure coursed down Alicia’s spine at the combination of his touch and his words. Tonight would be the wedding night they never had. She loved Travis. That should be enough for now.
A lamp shone in the parlor window as they hurried down the narrow street toward their little house. Upstairs, a candle flickered in the nursery where Anne- Marie and the babe slept. All appeared serene, and Alicia’s heart pounded faster as they approached the door.
A scream split the night, nearly rocking her backward. Travis reacted with the swiftness of a man whose life depended on quickness of thought. Not daring to leave Alicia alone, he half carried, half pushed her into the house with him. Then leaving her with the lamp and an iron poker in front of the fireplace, he dashed up the stairs in the direction of the scream.
Hearing Anne-Marie’s terrified half-French prattle, Alicia followed, clutching the poker. Dale’s cries urged her on. Before she reached the landing, she heard Travis dashing down the backstairs to the kitchen. Beyond that lay a small garden which abutted the alleyway. Travis carried no weapon. If he chased an intruder, he could be killed, and she shivered.
Entering the nursery, she found the little maid grasping her cotton robe and trying to soothe the babe’s cries. Relief flooded Anne-Marie’s face as Alicia scooped her son into her arms and spoke to him softly, reducing the cries to sobbing hiccups.
Responding to Alicia’s questions, the maid broke into hasty French, repeating what she had told Travis. She had woke to find a man smelling of whiskey and holding a candle in her bedroom. He had run out the back when she screamed.
Wondering if the drunks of New Orleans were prone to wandering in and out of houses, as the Indians were in St. Louis, Alicia attempted to calm the frightened girl. Not feeling secure until Travis returned, she made a pallet for Anne-Marie next to the big bed in her chamber, and settled Dale among the pillows in the bed with her. When Travis returned, he could move them back to the nursery.
Travis did not return until he lost the intruder in shadowy, unfamiliar streets. He returned home to find the lamp beside the bed guttering low, and his wife sound asleep beside his son. The sight of the young maid sleeping on the floor next to them smashed what few hopes he might have held of waking Alicia to announce his return and claim his reward. He discarded his coat and cravat and found a narrow spot among the covers in which to sleep.
Lying beside his wife, feeling her soft breath against his neck, Travis felt the emptiness and the tension slipping away, banished by the woman in his bed. Wanting more of this comfort, he pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. The peace he found made him realize what he had missed—and what he had found. It wasn’t just sex that he wanted from this woman.
Why hadn’t he seen that Alicia was a prize he could not win, a foe he could not, did not want to conquer? His mistake had been in thinking he had stalked and won Alicia, when in truth she had captured him. He didn’t want her as a prize; he wanted her as a woman who gave of herself willingly, offered her love without fear or strings attached, offered as Alicia had tried to do.
Gently, so as not to wake her, Travis kissed her brow and vowed to give her what he had not known existed until now. Perhaps he no longer deserved to be loved, but that would not prevent him from loving. He would give her England and pray that his chance would come again.
Chapter 42
“If Madame Helena has finished your gown, I mean to take you to a dance this evening,” Travis said, throwing down his gloves and an assortment of cards on the foyer table as he returned home from his walk.
Alicia glanced up from her mending. “A dance? But we don’t know anyone here. And after last night, I could not think of leaving Dale and Anne- Marie alone.”
“The invitations are right here.” Travis dropped them in her lap. “And I have thought of that. It is a charity ball being held at the hotel. I have already taken two rooms. We will be able to go up and check on them as often as we like, and they should be perfectly safe.”
His father stayed at a hotel. What was he plotting now that he didn’t tell her?
“We will have to send Anne-Marie around to tell her aunt to hurry. It will add to the cost of the gown.” She would have to learn to deal with the British aristocracy sometime.
“The cost is the least of my worries. My most pressing concern is how to keep you out of the potted plants long enough to meet my father.”
Relieved that he’d told her the truth, Alicia set aside her mending. “I’m sure you’ll manage,” she said. “In the meantime, there are at least nine dozen things that must be done before I can be presented to anyone. Why do you spring these things on me at the last possible moment?”
The moment arrived sooner than anticipated. That evening, a carriage carried them to the hotel, where Anne-Marie gaped in awe at the bejeweled assembly in the lobby as Travis hustled them upstairs to their connecting rooms. Once the maid and her charge were settled, Travis relieved Alicia of her pelisse.
He caressed a curl dangling along her cheek. “The sapphire of your eyes dims the color of that gown in comparison.” He swung the diamond earrings on her ears and smiled. “I should have worn mine. Would you have disowned me?”
The jest eased her tension, and Alicia smiled. In his properly wrapped cravat, white embroidered waistcoat, and elegant blue coat and trousers, Travis looked the part of wealthy viscount without fault. His abandoned gold earring would have portrayed his true nature more effectively.
“I will give you one of mine,” she offered, reaching for the bauble.
Travis caught her hand and kissed the palm. “For once, for the sake of peace, I will try not to shock. Are you ready?”
“If you stay close.” Alicia wrapped her fingers around Travis’s strong arm and felt prepared to meet the world. Whatever his faults might be, he always gave her confidence. Although the skirt of her gown clung to every line and curve as she moved, and the bodice came so low she feared to breathe, just a look from Travis made her feel as beautiful as the Empress Josephine.
She could feel her husband’s pride in her as he escorted her down the curving stairway, his tall frame hovering protectively as gazes below turned to stare. As he led her through the crowd of strangers, his black eyes flashed with wicked delight.
Intent in avoiding bumping into anyone in the crowd, Alicia did not notice the company Travis led her toward until they were almost upon them. Feeling the muscles of his arm tense, she glanced up, and had to swallow a cry of surprise.
Standing in a reception line was an awkwardly tall, dark-haired gentleman of craggy visage but urbane air whom Alicia recognized at once as a frequent visitor to her father’s home in Philadelphia before he’d departed. Startled, her gaze swept from this polished gentleman to Travis’s handsome, hawk-like features, and back again. Why had she not seen the resemblance? Travis might have much of his mother’s coloring, but he had no choice. His father was as dark and fiercely featured as he.
Lord R
oyster looked up to discover their approach. His recognition of his son was immediate, but his mouth fell open as he saw Alicia. The woman at his side turned to observe the reason for his shock.
Travis stopped before his father and stepmother and bowed. Before he could offer greetings and introductions, however, Lord Royster pounded him on the back.
“My word, Max, I should never have doubted that you would pluck from any less than the top of the trees. Alicia Stanford! Why in the name of all that is righteous did that rascal Scott not tell me you had filched Philadelphia’s most precious jewel? Don’t ever tell me you found the likes of this one out in the wilderness?”
With that greeting Lord Royster claimed Alicia’s hand, bowed over it, then laughing, hugged her.
Alicia returned the hug, then embarrassed at her forwardness, stepped back to take Travis’s arm. At his sardonically lifted black brow, she hastened to explain. “Lord Royster has always been a guest of Aunt Clara’s when he is in Philadelphia. I have known him since I was a very little girl. He used to bring me the most outrageous gifts . . .” She threw the offender a belligerent look. “Oyster eggs you called them! I could never have accepted pearls, but you told me they were oyster eggs, and I could hatch them if I wore them! You are worse than Travis!”
At this irate proclamation, even Travis and Lady Royster had to laugh.
“So that is how you spend your time when you come here?” Well rounded but shorter than Alicia, Lady Royster had lovely golden eyes to match her locks. Obviously much younger than her husband, she appeared devoted to him, and once advised of Alicia’s background, she opened up. “Flirting with little girls is a dangerous pastime.”
Grinning, Travis murmured a wicked Amen in agreement, while his father beamed with pride. “Not so little now, is she? Splendid woman you’ve turned out to be. Where’s your father? I suppose he wants the credit for this match, does he?”
Before Alicia’s honest tongue could trip them up, Travis interceded. “He too is only recently wed, and thought to get us out from under foot by seeing us married and out of his house. He sends his greetings and apologizes for not making the journey. There is some possibility that he might have a son, at last.”
Lord Rogue Page 35
