“What does the weather have to do with the sugarcane?” Brooke asked as she selected one of her several riding habits.
Millie Anne moved over to the bed and began straightening the covers. “Dat dere cane is sensitive to cold. If’n we have a freeze, Master Travis will lose de crop. Somethin’ about the sugar won’t be sugar. Don’t know whats dey mean ‘bout dat, only dat, it ain’t good. Three years ago we had us a hard freeze, and Master Travis, he was in a real bad mood for a right long spell.”
Brooke laughed. “You mean his present demeanor is an improvement?”
“D--demeanor?” Millie Anne’s intelligent eyes narrowed with puzzlement.
“Mood,” Brooke explained. “Do you mean that Travis is in a good mood now?” Brooke asked.
“Yes’um.” Millie Anne smiled. “I even seen him smile a couple o’ times. But not much,” she added, fluffing the bed pillows. “He jus seems--” she paused, searching for the right words, “--kind o’ like he’s tryin’ to prove somethin’.”
“Well, let me know the next time you do see him smile. I would really love to see that for myself,” Brooke said with a laugh as she brushed a bit of lint from the green, princess-style riding habit.
Millie Anne giggled. “You sure do make me laugh, Miz Brooke. I’m sure you’ll make him laugh, too.”
Brooke arched a brow. “Believe me, Millie Anne, that hasn’t been the case thus far.” Brooke shook out the habit, trying to eliminate the wrinkles, and then handed it to her. “I think I’ll wear this today.”
The girl held up the garment so Brooke could step into it. “I used to work in de cane, you know. It be hard work. I sure like workin’ in de house much better.” Millie Anne tugged the ends of the riding jacket together. “Dis here was sure made fo’ you. It fits like your very own skin.”
“I had it made that way.” Brooked tugged on the sleeves to adjust them. She inspected her reflection in the mirror. “I don’t like to wear anything bulky when I ride.”
“Come sit and let me do your hair,” Millie Anne said and gestured to the stool in front of the small dressing table. “I don’t want nothin' to do with those horses. They’re too big fo’ me,” she said, shuddering.
Brooke watched in the mirror as the girl dressed her hair, pulling her heavy gold tresses up to the crown of her head, then fastening the curls with gold combs. Once she had secured the hair, Millie pinned a dark green hat to the front.
“That’s perfect,” Brooke said, and Millie glowed at the compliment. “Considering the way you dress my hair, I would have thought that you had always been a lady’s maid.” She reached up and patted the hand that rested on her shoulder. “And I’m really glad that you’re my lady’s maid.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Millie Anne beamed all over. Evidently, she didn’t receive many compliments. Brooke couldn’t help thinking that at least one good thing had come out of her trip to Moss Grove--it had gotten the girl out of the cane fields.
“Tell me something,” Brooke said, pausing as she stood up. “Were you going to be Hesione’s maid?”
Millie Anne shook her head. “No ma’am. She has her own maid,” the girl said, placing the hairbrush and combs back down on the dressing table. “’Sides, Mammy wouldn’t want me to.”
“Why?”
“Well--I,” Millie Anne hesitated.
“I won’t say anything.”
“Mammy don’t like Miz Hesione. And she’d thrash me good if she knew dat I was talkin’ about her. But . . .” Millie Anne grinned. “Mammy said Miz Hesione is lazy, spoiled, and not good enough for Master Travis.”
Brooke wanted to know more, but she didn’t want to let on that Millie Anne had given her some valuable information. Instead, she said, “I think Mammy is probably a good judge of character. Tell me, why does everyone call her Mammy?”
“When she was much younger, she had a child, but he died with de fever when he was one. After dat, she never had no more youngens, so she started motherin’ everyone else and we done called her Mammy ever since. She seems to understand everythin’ no matter what de problem we has.”
“I haven’t known her long, but there is something comforting about Mammy,” Brooke said. “What’s her real name?”
“Esther,” Millie Anne said. “Is dere anything else dat you be needin’?”
“Is Mr. Jeffries in his room?”
“Yes’um, he’s packing. I can show you. I’m headin’ dat way now.”
Brooke followed the maid out of the room and down to Mr. Jeffries’s room. Brooke saw that the door was open, but she rapped on the door jamb just the same. Jeffries stood by the bed. A trunk was open nearby and clothes were strewn all over the bed. Millie Anne knocked louder than Brooke had, and Mr. Jeffries glanced their way. Smiling, he motioned for them to enter.
Brooke stepped into the room, staying close to the door since it wasn’t proper for a lady to be in a gentleman’s room. He was supervising the folding of the last of his clothes as his temporary valet placed them in the trunk.
“I’m going to miss you,” Brooke told him.
He gave her a smile as yet another garment was added to the contents of the trunk.
“I’ll finish dat fo’ you,” Millie Anne said to Ulysses, taking the shirt from the servant.
“I’ll be back in a few months to check on you, then I shall have to return to England,” Mr. Jeffries said.
“I see it as you’re leaving me with the enemy,” Brooke said, cheerfully pouting as she stood just inside the door.
He chuckled. “I don’t believe Jackson Montgomery would have put you in this situation if he didn’t expect that you could handle yourself.”
Brooke didn’t know how to respond.
When she didn’t reply, Jeffries arched an eyebrow. “You don’t strike me as one to give up easily. After all, it’s only a year and then you both can go your separate ways, providing he doesn’t go through with his impending marriage.”
“Oh, I shan’t give anything up,” Brooke assured him. “It’s just that I didn’t expect this . . . this formidable man.” She gestured expansively.
“He is a rather remarkable opponent,” Jeffries agreed. “But now that he’s become a man, I can see a lot of his father in him. It is unfortunate that Travis could not inherit his father’s title; although, in this country such things as titles means little.”
“I’ll admit Travis is a handsome man, but his disposition is in vast need of improving.”
“Perhaps, he’s never had a reason to change his ways. You might be the person to do just that,” Jeffries said as the last item went into the trunk. Then dismissing Millie Anne, he pulled the trunk lid down and fastened the hasp. “Shall we go down to breakfast?”
Once downstairs, they went straight to the dining room where they found Travis, much to Brooke’s surprise. Travis was usually long gone before she had breakfast. It appeared that he had just finished eating and was leaning back enjoying a last cup of coffee before he started his day.
When they entered the room, Travis rose and greeted them with a casual yet polite nod. “Good Morning, Jeffries, Mrs. Hammond. Please, sit down.” He held a chair out until Brooke was seated. Then he slipped back into his seat. “I hope you’re hungry,” he said, picking up and ringing a small brass bell. Instantly, one of the kitchen maids appeared with fresh coffee and began to pour.
“Please serve our guests.”
Brooke frowned, wondering what had caused Travis to be in such a seemingly good mood. Usually he appeared determined to keep her at arm’s length. Now he was treating her like a welcome guest. She bristled, but she didn’t quite know how to react to Travis’s change in attitude. She wasn’t a guest, she wanted to remind him. Whether he wanted a partner or not, he had one.
Come to think about it, Brooke thought, she wasn’t sure she’d ever met a man who didn’t want her. Before Travis Montgomery, that was. Hmmm, she thought, she must be slipping. Of course, Travis’s attitude just gave her one more challenge to m
eet.
“I have ordered the coach for your departure,” Travis informed them as he placed his coffee cup on the saucer. “The driver will take you wherever you want to go.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jeffries said with a nod. “I’ll return by the end of November, if not sooner. Provided that you meet the conditions your father set forth, you will have estates to manage both here and in England. That reminds me, have you planned your ball to introduce Mrs. Hammond to local society?”
The furrows between Travis’s eyes deepened. “I don’t have time for entertaining,” he snapped. “But in keeping with my father’s demands,” he added, tempering his tone. “I will speak to Mammy and have a few invitations sent out.”
“Good.” Jeffries nodded. “Perhaps, Miss Brooke can help you with the necessary arrangements.”
Brooke laid her fork down and looked at Travis. “It would be lovely if you let me know of your plans. I’ll be happy to assist you.”
“I’m not in the habit of discussing what I do with you or anyone else, Mrs. Hammond.”
Brooke recognized his condescending tone, and the urge to throw something at him was so great she had to hold her hands in her lap to keep from acting. “That is certainly most apparent,” she retorted. “Considering your father’s wishes, however, perhaps, you should start including me. I do expect to be the hostess at the party.”
Travis gave her a sidelong glance of utter disbelief. The furious expression on his face told volumes. She evidently had hit her target.
After a moment of strained silence, Jeffries spoke up, “I believe your father wants you both to be happy,” he said tactfully.
“Well, I can take care of my own happiness without interference from my late father,” Travis snapped. “I do hope that you’ll return to Moss Grove in time for my wedding to Hesione. That should take care of my father’s wishes.”
Mr. Jeffries wiped his mouth with the linen cloth and placed it beside his plate. “I shall do my best, sir.”
Brooke noted that Travis didn’t look much like a man in love. As a matter of fact, he was frowning as was his usual habit, and a muscle flicked angrily in his jaw before he continued. “My arrangement with Hesione will provide a perfect match,” he said.
He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well as the rest of the people in the room, Brooke thought. Perhaps, there was hope that Jackson’s plan would succeed yet.
Travis shoved his chair back from the table and then stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Hammond, Jefferies, the cane harvest starts today.”
“Then it will be the perfect time for you to show me our plantation,” Brooke said firmly. She folded her hands on her lap and waited to see how Travis would respond.
He stiffened, then he faced her. Keeping his features deceptively composed, his burning eyes held hers. Once again, Brooke was struck by his stark good looks, and no matter how surly he was, something about him attracted her. Perhaps, like a month to a flame, she was doomed. She wasn’t sure she liked that scenario.
“I was rather expecting or should I say hoped that you’d be leaving with Mr. Jeffries,” Travis told her.
Brooke smiled. No wonder he’d been in such a cheerful mood this morning. He was expecting her to be gone. “I just bet you were,” she said matter-of-factly. “Sorry to disappoint you, but my business is here not in St. Louis with Mr. Jefferies.
“Plus there is the matter of the little party you must plan. I wouldn’t miss that for the world as I am to be the reason for the ball.” Ignoring Travis’s smoldering glare, Brooke rose and walked around the table to Mr. Jeffries. “The next time I see you, I shall have had quite an education about running Moss Grove Plantation.”
Mr. Jeffries tried to hide his smile, but Brooke saw it in the quirking at the corners of his mouth. “I’m hoping that the two of you will work something out to the satisfaction to your dual satisfaction.”
“My satisfaction would be for you to take her with you,” Travis muttered sourly. “Moss Grove is no place for this woman.” Then he turned and abruptly left the dining room.
As Brooke watched the irritating man stride from the room, she prepared herself for the battle of wills ahead of her. But first things first. She turned to Mr. Jeffries and took his hands in hers, holding them out in front of her. “I hope you will have a safe and pleasant trip.”
Jeffries smiled. “Remember, my dear. Montgomery is still adjusting to you being here,” he cautioned. “He’s stubborn like his father, but he will come around.”
“Miracles do happen, I suppose,” Brooke said, sarcastically. Of course, this miracle might need divine intervention. “Now, where are the stables?”
“I believe they are to your right when you leave by the front entrance,” Mr. Jeffries said. “I shall finish gathering my things, and then I’ll leave. I shall see you upon my return. I sincerely hope that your relations with Travis will have smoothed over by then.”
Brooke had grown so fond of the man that she impulsively hugged him, producing an immediate flush on his cubby face. He bade her good-bye, then turned and left.
She strolled out of the dining room to the foyer where she found Travis there slipping on his dark brown coat. She swept past the damned man, hating the way he made her feel so stupid.
She hated even more the fact that she needed him. She knew full well that hating him was not going to help her achieve her goal. She had to make Travis so hungry for her that that he would break off his engagement to the mysterious Hesione. Brooke hurried outside determined to find the damned stables with or without him. She heard the door open and close behind her, but she didn’t turn. Instead, she marched across the manicured lawn. The one thing she would not do was bow down to Travis no matter how badly she needed a home.
Chapter Five
Travis stood on the porch, gripping the iron railing as if he could break it in two, and the thought had occurred to him. He needed to release some of his frustration. Ringing the lovely lady’s neck was another option that had crossed his mind.
He barely noticed the crisp air or the beautiful morning as he watched the woman striding across the lawn. What he did notice was the sun playing in her glorious golden hair until it looked like wheat ready for harvest.
Travis cursed himself for his weakness. Why was he even looking her way? The last thing in the world he wanted or needed was to get involved with this woman. He had a fiancée. And Brooke was a threat to his carefully plotted plans ... or was she merely another obstacle to be overcome ... and nothing more.
He descended the front steps at his own pace. He’d be damned if he’d race to catch up with the exasperating woman. What the devil was she up to anyhow? He’d hoped that by ignoring Mrs. Hammond she would simply go away, but evidently that tactic hadn’t worked. She was still here worrying him like a thorn in his side.
He did admit that Brooke Hammond was different than other women he’d known, and that bothered him. She disturbed him in every way she could. Not only was he becoming more and more attracted to her, but he couldn’t figure her out. However, he was fast learning that she was one stubborn woman. Worse, she seemed to know how to work her way under his skin.
And he didn’t give a damn how pretty she was. She was trouble – plain and simple.
At least that’s what he tried to convince himself. What he did give a damn about was how much the blasted lady stayed on his mind. Even in his sleep he could see those enticing, glittering gold eyes of hers dancing before him. And the light fragrance she wore seemed to be everywhere in the house. Strange. He paused and thought for a moment. He couldn’t recall Hesione’s scent.
It was as if he couldn’t get away from Brooke. She had infested the very air he breathed. Normally, he could shove thoughts of women completely out of his mind. However, with Mrs. Hammond, none of his usual tricks worked. She was like the plague.
He looked up and came to an abrupt stop. Apparently, he’d reached the stables without remembering the walk. Blast it all,
he needed to get hold of his mind and his body.
He could only hope that after the infernal Mrs. Hammond saw how complicated running a plantation was, she’d turn tail and go running back to England and her tea parties and whatever it was she’d done before coming here. Women had no place interfering in the operation of a plantation. Especially his plantation!
Entering the barn doors, he immediately spotted Brooke and knew his shot-lived reprieve was over. She was waving her arms in exasperation as she argued with his head groom. Evidently, she was trying to convince Old Sam she needed a horse.
“Why you be wantin’ one o’ Master Travis’s good horses, Missy? Not dat I got a t’ing ag’in you, but I don’t know who you are, you hear,” Sam said in his thick Cajun accent.
“Why does that not surprise me?” Brooke muttered sarcastically. “I’m, Brooke Hammond, part owner of Moss Grove.”
Old Sam chuckled. “Well now, you be funnin’ me. Ever’bod’ knows Master Montgomery owns Moss Grove. Dere he is now. Ask him, you’se’f, you hear.”
Brooke swung around and focused her attention on Travis, glaring angrily at him. He almost laughed out loud at the murderous look on her face. Instead, he smiled. Unfortunately, his obvious amusement just made her all the more irritated. Finally, Travis asked, “Is there a problem, Sam?”
Sam shoved his hat to the back of his head. “Ooowe, to be sure,” he said. “This young lady wants t’ ride one o’ yer horses.”
Travis looked at Brooke with a raised brow. “You probably should have asked me first.”
“I believe I told you earlier that I wanted to see the plantation.”
He smiled smoothly, betraying nothing of his annoyance. “Do you ride, Mrs. Hammond?”
“Of course, I can ride, you ninny. Do you think I’d get on an animal if I couldn’t handle it?”
Something about the way Brooke spat those words at him made chills crawl up the back of his neck. Travis didn’t doubt that she could handle just about anything. There was such an air of confidence about her . . . a determination that he’d not seen in other women. He almost admired her for that. “In that case,” he said, turning to Old Sam. “Saddle the gray for Mrs. Hammond.”
Southern Seduction Page 5
