Southern Seduction

by Brenda Jernigan

  The levee was a crush of waving hats, handkerchiefs, hands and arms waved at the two boats cheering them on. Someone on shore fired a volley of gunfire, and the Natchez and the Annie Johnston sounded their own whistles.

  The smokestacks gushed fat, thunder-dark clouds of smoke. A roustabout on the wharf chopped the mooring line. With a deafening rattle of machinery, the Natchez backed away from the wharf. Her paddle wheels swirled and bit into the brown water but the Annie Johnston had beaten them away.

  "We're behind," Brooke protested.

  "Leathers will catch them, my dear."

  It was completely dark now, but once they pulled out into the river, there were dozens of bonfires on the levees where crowds had gathered in various places to watch the two boats race. “Catch her,” they screamed and waved their arms.

  "I can't believe people are out in the dark to watch these boats," Brooke commented.

  "Racing is a big thing along the Mississippi, and some people wager a great deal of money on the race," Travis explained. "Hopefully, we will have caught the Annie Johnston by morning. Are you hungry?"

  Brooke turned in his arms and answered him honestly, "I'm hungry for you." The smoldering flame she saw in his eyes warmed her.

  Travis buried his lips in the hollow of her throat, then swept her up in his arms. "Well, we don't want you hungry," he murmured hotly, capturing her mouth in a quick kiss.

  After they had made passionate love, they lay locked together in each other’s arms for a few minutes until their breathing returned to normal. After a while, Travis moved to the side, but he still held Brooke next to him, her head cradled upon his shoulder.

  “How are you enjoying the trip so far?” he asked.

  “It has been lovely. Thank you for taking the time to make this trip. I thought we would be married and then go right back to the plantation and work,” Brooke said.

  Travis’s laugh was low, throaty. “That was my original plan. Not sure when I changed my mind.”

  Brooke smiled to herself. Just maybe Travis wasn’t as unaffected by the marriage as he’d planned. “I still find it hard to believe that we are married.” She drew in a leisurely breath. “If someone had told me a month ago that I’d be married to a man I’d yet to meet . . . . Well, I would have wondered how much they’d had to drink.”

  “I can see your point.” Travis laughed too. “It means I’m in bed with the wrong person.” Brooke tilted her head up to see his face and then he continued, “You were second choice.”

  “Thank you very much,” Brooke said with a frown. She jabbed his chest with her finger. “Are you sorry?”

  Travis glanced down at her upturned face and gave her a warm smile, a sensual expression playing across his features.

  “No, I’m not sorry,” he told her. “As a matter of fact, I’m enjoying myself.” He traced the curve of her jaw with his finger. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve said that.”

  She reached up and kissed him, then settled back into her cozy spot. She knew Travis was kinder than he wanted anyone to know, and she liked that. She also liked his company. When he wasn’t around her, she felt an extraordinary void. She wanted to have more than sex with him. She wanted to know all about him. “Have you always lived in New Orleans?”

  “Pretty much.”

  He didn’t seem bothered by her question so she pressed on. “Tell me something about your childhood.”

  His left brow rose a fraction. “Now, why would you want to hear something so boring?”

  “Because you’re my husband, and I should know something about you.”

  He eyed her with a calculated expression, but then he surprised her and began to talk. “My childhood wasn’t pleasant -– no more than yours.” He ran his finger up and down her arm as he spoke. “My mother disgraced her family. As you’ve seen, my family isn’t forgiving. We were always kept on the outside. Since Mother couldn’t support us, my grandfather was obligated to let us live with him, but he did it begrudgingly. Mother was an outcast of Creole society. As she always told me, ‘who wants a woman with a bastard son?’”

  Brooke gasped. “That was an awful thing to tell a child.”

  “But it was the truth,” Travis pointed out. “We lived on an allowance from my grandfather, and I wore hand-me-down clothes from my cousins. Then out of the blue, the duke came back to see me.”

  “Is that the first time you saw Jackson?” Brooke asked, but added, “At least, you got the chance to meet your father. I had never got the chance to meet mine.”

  “Yes, it was. Jackson settled money on my mother so she would allow me to return to England with him. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want any part of the man, but they both insisted it was best for me. So at thirteen I went to study in England.

  “The older I got, the more rebellious I became.” Travis smiled slightly as he remembered. “By the time I was seventeen, I’d become a problem. I was hitting the cups, gambling away my allowance. Jackson finally washed his hands of me and sent me home. That’s when he gave me Moss Grove, the fallen down plantation, to run. He told me he wasn’t sure I could do the job, but he’d give me a chance to see if I would become a man of my own.”

  “And you made a success of the plantation,” she said with a smile. “You showed him.”

  “Jackson never got to see what I’d accomplished,” Travis said, and Brooke could clearly hear the regret in his voice. “But I did provide Mother with a home. I figured I owed her that much, since I had been the source of her problem over the years. I wanted to get away from my grandfather.”

  “Why?” Brooke leaned up and looked at Travis. “You didn’t ask to be born. Your mother should have taken the blame. She knew Jackson was already married when she met him.”

  Travis nodded. “Still, I felt I always had to prove myself. Because of me, she never had the nice things she could have. I had to prove both to my grandfather and father that I could be successful on my own.”

  Brooke placed her hands on the sides of his face. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Travis Montgomery. Believe it or not, I like you just the way you are.”

  Travis felt his chest tighten. He’d never felt quite like this before. “Come here, my love,” he whispered as he pulled Brooke up to him.

  He brushed his lips against her temple, then he kissed her cheeks before finding her soft mouth, her lips parting easily beneath his. When his tongue touched hers, a jolt slammed through him. He’d never desired a woman as much as he did this woman, his wife, But then, Travis reminded himself that it was good to lust after your own wife. His wife. He still couldn’t believe he’d actually married her. He deepened his kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth over and over again.

  She moaned with pleasure. And Travis loved the needy sounds she made while he stroked her hair, and he felt strangely betrayed by his own body. The exquisite feeling of her in his arms, the taste of her lips clinging to his was delicious unbearable.

  Slowly he slid his hand, trailing his fingers down her throat to her breast where he fondled one globe, its pink nipple tightening at his touch.

  This was so different from the other times, Brooke realized. Travis was being very gentle and considerate, and his tenderness made her even hotter. His mouth slid down her neck then lower to her chest until his lips teased her nipples erect with tantalizing possessiveness. The pleasure was pure and explosive, causing her to gasp in sweet agony.

  Travis couldn’t believe the passion this woman had for him, nor how ravenous he was for her. They had already made love, yet he wanted her again. He couldn’t seem to get enough. Brooke just might be the death of him . . . but what a way to go.

  His hand moved down to the soft triangle between her legs where he found the special place that made her moan with pleasure. His fingers probed between her legs, sliding in and out until she was slick, wet and ready.

  “I want you now, Travis,” she whispered running her hands over his back.

  His body flamed at her
softly spoken words. He eased into her with deliberate slowness, and she whimpered and arched her hips, driving him crazy. No matter what it cost him, he wanted to hold back and give her pleasure. He began to move rhythmically within her, loving the way she felt beneath him, the way she smiled.

  Ah hell, he swore silently. Much against his better judgment, he loved the woman. He had fallen into her spell whether he wanted to or not.

  That truth had been dredged from a place beyond logic and reason, but he didn’t care. Somehow, love had sneaked up on him when he wasn’t paying attention.

  “You feel so good, my love. I could make love to you all night,” he told her as he plunged into her. She answered by arching to meet his thrust.

  Travis felt as though he were riding a wave in the ocean -- building and building, higher and higher until he reached the pinnacle, then he crested into oblivion until he crashed down on shore, shuddering with his release.

  Glancing down at Brooke, he saw the love and contentment in her eyes. Tomorrow at dinner he’d tell her he didn’t want their marriage to be a business deal. He wanted Brooke for the rest of his life.

  But tonight, he wanted to enjoy this joyous contentment he’d found in her arms. He rolled to his side, enfolded Brooke next to him, and slept like he’d never slept before.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Natchez had made a swift run the night before. Word had gone out that they would dock for a very short time in Memphis to unload cargo and pick up a few passengers. However, the Annie Johnston was not doing its regular run. Nevertheless, the Natchez had already begun to catch her. Captain Leathers believed that a captain should keep his normal operations and then race.

  Brooke hurried to the railing to watch the morning’s docking activity as she waited for Travis to return. Today he’d opened his gold case to find it empty. Needing some cigars, he had left the ship, heading for one of the stores that fronted the shore. He promised Brooke he’d return well before the boat was ready to shove off.

  Brooke had actually experienced a twinge of loss as she watched him leave the ship. She realized it was silly. After last night, she knew he was coming right back, but she felt nervous when Travis wasn’t near her. She’d finally found that mysterious thing called love, and she felt like shouting to everyone that she was normal after all.

  Hoping that the fresh air would help her piece her thoughts together, she pondered her new feelings. This was uncharted territory for Brooke, and she didn’t know how to deal with it. She’d always felt so sure and confident before.

  Could love be a miserable uncertainty?

  Travis hadn’t told her that he loved her, but Brooke had felt it in the way he held her and looked at her. It was wonderful. In the past, whenever she found happiness something always seemed to come along to take it away. She wondered what it would be this time.

  Brooke watched Captain Leathers from where she stood on the hurricane deck. He was snapping orders to his crew. George Devol, one of the gamblers Travis had played cards with, strode over to speak with the captain. It appeared Devol was carrying a stovepipe hat full of bank notes and silver coins.

  "Captain,” Devol said to get the man’s attention. “There is a poor widow lady down there with six children. She told me she had tried to board the Annie Johnston. When Captain Blake found out she had no money, well sir, he kicked her and her children off his boat. So, I’ve passed this hat among the passengers and officers, and I think we have enough to buy the family passage."

  Captain Leathers waved aside the hat. "Give the money to the woman. She needs it more than I do. I'll instruct one of the crew to find her a room for her,” he spat. “Sounds like something Captain Blake would do."

  Brooke smiled. She had thought the captain was a good man. Now, she had the proof. Brooke turned her attention back to the wharf to see if Travis was on his way back. She didn’t see him, only the passengers waiting to board. They would take on fourteen passengers beside the widow and her children, as well as loading cargo.

  Captain Leathers was very efficient in unloading cargo and passengers quickly. By now, everyone knew that they were in a race, so they cooperated by boarding quickly. However, there was an older woman and a young lady, accompanied by their maids, who seemed to be arguing with a crew member about their luggage. Evidently, the crew must have satisfied the woman because she eventually nodded, and several men rushed down to lug all of the bags aboard, which was so much more than what the normal passenger carried.

  Brooke spotted Travis out of the corner of her eye as he walked briskly down the wharf toward the boat. Travis made the turn and started up the gangplank. As he hurried by the passengers, a woman squealed and threw herself into his arms. Not only that, but the hussy kissed him -– full on the lips -- which Brooke didn't care for at all. The woman had some nerve.

  Brooke watched as Travis tried to disengage the young woman's arms from around his neck. Then the older woman moved over and kissed Travis on the cheek. That was when Brooke realized this had to be Travis's mother and Hesione. Of all the rotten luck, Brooke thought. She had wanted to have a little time with Travis before they returned home and had to untangle the ugly mess made by him marrying someone else. She’d expected to have at least another month before Hesione and Travis’s mother returned.

  Evidently, that wasn’t to be. Brooke sighed. She wouldn't have to wait any longer to meet them.

  The trio marched up the gangplank, Hesione's arm linked with Travis’s. His mother was beside him, happily chatting away.

  Once they were aboard, Brooke heard Travis introduce them to Captain Leathers who was his gracious self.

  Captain Leathers excused himself so that he could greet the other boarding passengers and get the boat moving. Now he was only an hour behind the Annie Johnson.

  “Cut the lines,” the captain barked his order to a roustabout.

  Travis glanced around until he spotted Brooke. When he saw her, he motioned her to come to him.

  Brooke straightened her rich brown skirt and started his way. Before she reached him, he disengaged himself from Hesione and strode over to Brooke.

  “I think you know who they are,” Travis nodded toward his mother. “Are you ready?"

  Brooke took a deep breath before nodding. Travis grasped her elbow, and quickly closed the distance between them and his mother.

  "Mother," Travis said to gain her attention.

  Brooke noticed that his mother was small with a medium complexion and dark brown hair, but she didn't have Travis's eyes. Her eyes were green and cold though she wore a smile at the moment.

  "A lot has happened since you've been away. I'd like you to meet Brooke Montgomery, my wife. This is my mother Margaret deLobel."

  Travis's mother started to nod, but stopped as her son’s words apparently sunk in. Hesione, a puzzled look on her face, stood before them dumbfounded. "What did you just say?" Margaret asked, as though she hadn’t quite understood him.

  "We were married three days ago,” he replied confidently. Then he looked at his former fiancée. “I'm sorry, Hesione."

  "How could you!" Hesione screamed, apparently over her shock. Tears of rage ran down her lovely face. “What about me?”

  "Have you lost your mind?" Margaret asked her son. "You know that we were shopping for Hesione's trousseau. Did you forget that you already had a fiancée?"

  "No, Mother, I didn’t forget, but a few things have changed."

  "Look how upset you've made Hesione.” Margaret put an arm around the sobbing girl. “There has to be some mistake," Margaret insisted as she swayed as if to faint. Travis had to reach out and steady her. She glared at Brooke, utter contempt on her face. "After all, this woman is English."

  "Perhaps I should take you to your room," Travis suggested, looking around at the curious passersby. “You’ll feel better once you’re rested.”

  "Is there something wrong with being English?" Brooke finally found her voice after watching the spectacle in front of her.

&
nbsp; "You are not Creole!" Margaret snapped, her eyes filled with loathing.

  Brooke sighed, wondering how many times she’d heard that statement. "Well, we cannot all be so fortunate as to be Creole. I assure you I do come from a good bloodline, however."

  "Now you are insulting me with your sharp tongue," Margaret spat, not looking quite as sick as she had a moment ago, Brooke noticed. She must have been using a ploy she’d developed over the years to control Travis. Apparently, he had finally learned to ignore it.

  Margaret turned to her son. "I'd like to see you alone."

  "If you don't mind.” Travis glanced at Brooke. “I'm going to escort Hesione and Mother to their rooms. I'll see you back in our room."

  Brooke nodded as she watched Travis grasp the woman's elbow. What choice did she have? His mother wasn't taking the news well at all, not that Brooke had expected she would. However, she hadn’t expected the women to make such a scene, especially in public.

  Perhaps the Creoles didn’t have the manner of the English, Brooke smiled.

  She really didn’t want to go to her room where she’d have nothing to do but worry about the situation, so she turned to watch the last passenger board.

  "Oh my, God," Brooke said under her breath. Could her day get much worse? She watched as a man strode up the ramp. Not just any man, but the Earl of Whatsbury.

  A man who could identify Brooke and her past.

  Quickly, she turned away from the rail and started for her room. What was she going to do? The boat wasn’t that big. It would be impossible to avoid him. Thank God, she had never slept with the Earl, but she’d attended several parties that he had attended.

  She remembered Whatsbury at one of the soirees where he’d been very much in his cups. He had propositioned her, telling Brooke he’d treat her like a queen. She’d been so repulsed by his behavior that she’d cut him off, telling him he didn’t have enough money to afford her.

  Whatsbury had gotten so angry he’d grabbed her arm, gripping it painfully, but the duke she was keeping company with at the time stepped in and rescued her, making Whatsbury apologize. He never bothered her after that.