by Carrigan Fox
Bonds of Matrimony
Carrigan Fox
PROLOGUE
Slaughter, Texas
September 1908
Her grandmother once accused her of being a damned idiot; and as Chastity Fairfax lay pinned to the dirt by a man intent on choking the life out of her, it was clear that she had probably been right. Perhaps if she hadn’t been so determined to assert her independence, if she’d simply been an obedient daughter, if she hadn’t spent every moment of every day wishing that she could enjoy the same freedoms as her family’s own stable hand…perhaps if she’d been a different kind of woman entirely, she wouldn’t have ended up in this predicament, fighting for her own life.
She had once heard about a young man who fell off his horse and cracked his skull on a rock. He miraculously lived to tell about that moment between life and death, where his mind re-played random moments of his short life. As she struggled to steal a breath and remain conscious, Chastity found herself waiting for that flashback. But nothing came.
Had her life flashed before her eyes, she would have remembered a simple and unsatisfying childhood, followed by years of frustration with the limitations of a young woman’s life. She would have remembered her parents, whom she loved in spite of their narrow-minded concern over the opinions of small-minded socialites. She would have remembered fleeing her home and embarking on an exhilarating journey.
And eventually, she would have remembered sitting across the card table from a grinning Adonis, sharing a pint and a cigar, laughing over the uselessness of women and secretly plotting her revenge against the infuriatingly stunning chauvinist. She wouldn’t have even minded remembering the back-breaking work, the blisters, or the broken ribs that plagued her on her brother’s ranch.
But as she stared into the loathsome eyes—and the tobacco-speckled teeth—of a man who wouldn’t rest until she was dead, Chastity Fairfax couldn’t remember a single damn thing.
CHAPTER 1
“You have to look, Chase. As a man, you can’t not look,” he teased.
Taking him up on his challenge, she boldly turned and watched the women. One in particular, with fiery red hair and breasts twice as large as her own, stepped forward and shook her rear end for the audience, tossing a wink in her direction. Chastity felt a blush creep up her cheeks, and James laughed heartily.
He paid for their drinks, and she again followed his lead by taking a hearty swig from her mug. The beer tasted not entirely unpleasant.
“Good?” he asked.
She nodded, feigning more pleasure than she actually felt.
“By the time you finish your pint, you won’t even notice the taste anymore,” he said with a grin.
“I think you’re enjoying this too much,” Chastity observed sourly.
“Perhaps,” James admitted without apology. “It’s kind of nice to see my cousin finally have her dreams come true. Was it everything you’d hoped for?” he asked, lowering his voice to avoid being heard by nearby patrons.
She only answered by raising her glass in his direction before consuming half of the pint. She then turned her attention to the study the behaviors of the other gentlemen in the saloon. And after a moment or two, her eyes fell on the head of thick, dark blond curls of the American man she’d run into earlier in the week.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Without waiting for a response, she asked, “Do you think they will have dresses like this one in America?”
Their grandmother realized her granddaughters had fallen behind and turned to call to them. “Ladies, hurry along. This is hardly the time to dawdle.”
Rosalie seemed to have woken from her reverie and resumed her rapid pace. Chastity followed and collided with a solid form that suddenly appeared before her. Instinctively, his hands reached out and caught her arms, helping her regain her balance.
“Pardon me,” his deep voice apologized. His voice was soothing, and his accent immediately gave him away as an American. It was only after his apology that Chastity actually looked up at him. His blond hair was long enough to reveal curls that any woman would be jealous of. But on him, the curls couldn’t look any more masculine. His deep brown eyes were framed with dark eye lashes and gentle lines in the corners. His face was tanned from time working outdoors, no doubt.
She had a moment to study him before he actually looked at her. And at that moment, she realized the reason for their collision. He had been admiring her sister, Rosalie, while Chastity had been hurrying after her.
Embarrassed and slightly insulted that he didn’t seem interested in studying her, Chastity excused herself and stepped away from him. His powerful hands released her arms, and she rushed down the street after her sister and grandmother.
He was now playing cards at one of the tables. He was talking to his partners, and they all laughed loudly whenever he paused. Unable to contain herself, she pushed away from the bar and headed toward their table.
“Chase,” James called.
But she did not respond. Instead, she boldly walked to his table and pulled up a chair. “Got room for another man?” she asked gruffly, half afraid that she was overdoing it with attempting to keep her voice a bit deeper.
The men barely spared Chastity a glance before giving her a hearty welcome and dealing her in.
“So what’d she say then, Webb?” a dark-haired man asked. He sat to her left and held his cards in his hands, which he rested on his robust belly.
The blond man grinned and continued his story. “She said, ‘Colton, you positively make my body hum,’” he imitated with a high voice. His accent wasn’t merely American. It was a slow drawl, one that Chase’s grandmother had told her was more often used in the Southern states, like Marcus’s beloved Texas.
The men seemed to be hanging on his every word. And judging by the leers on a couple of faces, Chastity was vaguely aware that she had just intruded on a story that a lady probably shouldn’t be hearing.
“So I told her that we should do somethin’ ‘bout that irritating hum. And she said, ‘The rooms upstairs are full, and I just have to have you now.’”
The pot-bellied man beside her shook his head and laughed. “You damned Americans get all the luck, don’t you? No woman has ever said that to me, whore or not.”
“I think it must be his goldy locks,” a red-haired man next to Webb joked, tugging the back of his hair and laughing. “Aren’t they pretty?”
They were extraordinary, but Chastity didn’t trust herself to say so. So she simply laughed with the other men. Over Webb’s shoulder, James stood observing his cousin’s masculine behavior. “So what’d you do?” she asked gruffly, shuffling her feet under the table to relieve some of her anxiety.
Webb glanced up at her and grinned. Her stomach turned two full somersaults in response. She lifted her mug to her mouth to hide any incriminating flushes in her cheeks. “She led me outside, and I took her up against the back of the building.”
Took her up against the back of the building? Chastity didn’t completely understand, but she followed the lead of the other men and tried to imitate their lewd, approving laughter. James looked on and grinned at his cousin, and she suddenly understood exactly what Colton Webb did to the woman against the back of the building. She found herself reaching for her pint again.
Having made their bets and taken their cards, they needed to reveal their hands. Chastity had been so focused on the conversation, she had hardly noticed that everyone had folded except for her and Webb.
He lay his cards on the table in front of them. “Two aces,” he announced proudly. He reached for a glass of golden liquid, but stopped when she dropped her three sevens.
For the first time since she’d run into him on the street, he met her eyes. He acknowledged hi
s defeat with a nod and then ordered another beer for her from a passing waitress. He smiled a dazzling white smile at the woman and called her darlin’ with that drawl of his. Chastity had truly never met a man as attractive as he was. She had never felt her insides respond to anyone like they responded to him. Suddenly, her entire body felt like it was on fire, and she felt as though she needed to get as far away from this man as she could.
But she couldn’t leave now. He was talking to her. What did he just say? He was shuffling the cards and looking at her expectantly, waiting for a response.
Before the pause became too unbearably awkward, James stepped up to the table and pulled up a chair. “His name is Chase Cochrane. I’m his cousin, James. You gentlemen have room for one more?” he asked.
The red-haired man stood up from the table. “Take my place,” he said, smacking James between the shoulders. “It’s not healthy for a man’s ego to spend too much time listening to this man’s stories.” He smacked Webb between the shoulders, too. “So long, men.”
“So long, Red.”
“Say, Webb, will we find you at our table again tomorrow night?” he asked warmly.
“’Fraid not, Red. I’m settin’ sail tomorrow. I got what I came for, and I head back to America in the mornin’,” Webb answered.
James must have noticed his cousin’s attention to Webb, because he grinned at the cards before him when he commented, “Really? My cousin here is sailing in the morning, too.”
She hated to draw any more attention to herself, and James had just stirred up a bucket of worms with this announcement. Chastity scowled at him momentarily, but then noticed that Webb had said something to her again. “What was that?” she asked.
“Are you on the Mauretania, too?” he asked, lighting up a cigar. He offered them around the table, and everyone declined.
Chastity looked directly at James as she accepted the offered cigar. “I am,” she answered.
She watched Webb light his own cigar before he tossed the matches across the table. Trying to appear casual, she imitated his short quick puffs until the cigar lit. She braced herself for the stale taste that she was certain would accompany these particular smelly items, but instead, it tasted sweet. She took another short puff and grinned at James. He met her eyes for a moment before clearing his throat and looking down at his cards.
Meanwhile, the men discussed the extravagance of the ship that both Colton and Chastity would board in the morning. The ship was the fastest steamer to ever sail. It was also designed to appeal to the upper class passengers. Neither fare had been inexpensive, but her grandmother had assured her that anything less would be unbearable.
She emptied her first pint and began the second, the one that Webb had ordered from the attractive waitress.
“First time to America?” he asked.
“Is it obvious?” she laughed casually.
“Not at all. Just a guess. Vacation?” he asked as he dealt her the two cards she asked for.
“My brother owns a ranch out there. He needs some help. There’s nothing keeping me here.” She puffed on her cigar another time and followed it with a drink. She was beginning to feel quite comfortable in this manly role.
“A cattle ranch?”
“Yes. Down in Texas,” she volunteered, enjoying the sound of the word on her tongue.
“I’ll be damned. I live in Texas, too. Flush,” he announced, dropping his cards on the table in front of him. He grinned at her in victory when she dropped her two pair.
Chastity smiled into her pint. With most men, the more they talked, the less she liked them. But as she conversed with Colton Webb, she was finding him more and more appealing. He was the singularly most masculine man she’d ever met in her life.
And the sight of him made her understand what the whore meant about her body humming. She continued tapping her feet under the table.
The big-bellied man beside her dealt the next hand, and again, Chastity collected her winnings.
“Damn, Cochrane. Remind me not to play at your table again,” Webb joked.
“Aah. It’s just my lucky night,” she replied casually. “That’s all.” And she was beginning to feel that it truly was my lucky night.
“Hey, sweetheart!” he suddenly called.
She started, initially thinking he was talking to her. Instead, a waitress with beautiful blond curls strutted over to the table.
“Evening, Colton,” she cooed suggestively. “What can I get for you tonight? Another whiskey? Or do you need something a bit stronger tonight, too?” She smiled demurely at him, although it was evident that she knew him intimately.
“Just a whiskey, sweetheart.” He grinned at her pout before adding, “for now. We’ll see how the evenin’ goes.” He nodded in Chase’s direction. “If Cochrane here keeps taking my money, I won’t have enough to make it back to Texas.”
She trailed a bright red fingernail down his cheek and smiled. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”
He laughed and swatted her abundant rear end as she walked away. Whether it was the ale, cigars, or the cards, Chastity couldn’t be sure. But Webb’s arrogance was suddenly as infuriating as it was attractive. For that reason, after her three queens won the next hand, she decided to call it a night and excused herself from the table. James followed her out.
On the walk back to the hotel, he reached out more than once to steady his cousin. Apparently, the drinks had been stronger than she thought.
“Two pieces of advice for you,” he commented. “Consider it a farewell gift.”
“What’s that?” she mumbled.
“One, don’t ever drink more than one drink. You seem to have a hard time handling your drink.”
“I’m fine.” She held her hand out to keep from running into the store window beside her.
“Clearly.”
“What’s the second piece of ad-ad-advice?” she struggled. She yawned loudly before he could respond.
“Stay clear of that Webb character that has you so captivated.”
“I’m not captivated,” she protested a bit too loudly.
“Ssh,” he replied as he led her through the hotel lobby and up to her room.
In her room, she slipped out of her man’s suit and into her nightgown before falling into bed beside her sister. She was almost unconscious before her head touched the pillow. But that night, she dreamt that it was her who Colton Webb had against the wall of a building.
CHAPTER 2
Her sister was kind enough to wake her the next morning by opening the heavy drapes wide and allowing the spectacularly blinding morning sunlight into their hotel room. Feeling the lingering effects of her drinks from the evening before, she shrank away and buried her face in a pillow.
“Just think!” Rosalie exclaimed as she flopped onto the bed beside her sister. “Six days from now, we will be hugging our brother again! I could positively squeal in delight and excitement!”
“Please don’t,” Chastity mumbled groggily, wondering when this shift in her sister’s attitude had taken place. She had been dreading this trip from the beginning. When the girls had learned of their parents’ betrayal, Reese had been as desperate to escape as Chase was. But without male chaperones, their journey overseas could prove perilous. For this reason, they had agreed to pass themselves off as young brothers travelling with their grandmother. For a boldly outspoken young woman who was born envying the freedom of the men in her life, it was an ideal plan in Chastity’s opinion. For her sister, it was a terrifying prospect, and frankly, a role she wasn’t terribly adept at performing.
In spite of the black trousers, jacket, and bowler hat, Reese still looked purely feminine. And certainly, her twirling in front of the mirror did not help matters.
“You look fine,” Chase lied.
“I look ridiculous,” she pouted.
“Perhaps you could conveniently become seasick once we board the ship. Then you can lock yourself in our cabin on the ship,” her sister suggested, only partly j
oking.
“For six days?” Reese asked, clearly displeased with the suggestion. Tears welled up in her blue-black eyes, making her look even more feminine.
A knock sounded on the door of their room, and Chastity rushed to answer it, eager to avoid Reese’s frustration. James tipped his hat at her as he entered and then stopped short when he spotted her sister.
“This is never going to work,” he mumbled.
“Come, Chase! It’s time to make our final preparations. We are to board the Mauretania in a mere two hours!”
She remembered the men talking about this ship they were to board. It had already made a reputation for itself for being the fastest and most luxurious boat to sail the Atlantic. The passengers could expect to dock in New York in fewer than six days. The men at the saloon had bragged about its strength and power, not to mention its size. Their grandmother had raved about the ship’s elegance.
And yet, no one had adequately prepared her for the sight that met her at the docks in Liverpool that morning. No one had warned her about the crowds of people that painted a picture of true diversity. Women dressed in elaborate gowns were escorted by equally well-dressed men, while porters struggled with their vast amounts of luggage. Young men and women dressed in barely more than rags huddled together closely carrying little more than the sparse clothing on their backs. Around her, people called out in a variety of foreign tongues, no doubt speaking words of excitement for the journey they were preparing to embark upon and words of sorrow for the homes and family they were leaving behind.
The four of them wove through the waves of faces and languages, fighting not to lose each other. Chastity followed James’s back closely, not daring to grab his hand now that she was dressed as young Mr. Chase Cochrane. Behind her, her grandmother clung to her youngest “grandson’s” elbow. Chase stole a glance at Reese and her grandmother, noting the look of discomfort and fear on her sister’s face. She looked positively awkward in her trousers and shirt.
A loud deep belching horn sounded suddenly, bringing her attention back to the example of enormity and extravagance that loomed before her. It was time to board. Already, passengers stood around the railing of the main deck, waving to family members and strangers alike. James pushed the three women through the crowd until they stood at the foot of the ramp leading to the ship.
