Bayou Bride

by Bobbi Smith

  Charles Kane stood on the gallery of his home gazing out across the lush green fields of Riverwood with pride and sadness. There wasn't much time left. He knew it without anyone having to tell him. During the last week he had been filled with a great weariness that even his love for his home couldn't ease. Usually when he spent time outside he felt uplifted and invigorated, but no more. He only felt tired now, and he missed Nick desperately.

  "Mr. Charles?" The butler emerged from the house.

  "Yes, Weddington, what is it?" Charles didn't glance back from where he stood at the railing.

  The ever-observant Weddington knew the truth of his condition, and he had noticed a change in Charles in recent days. Concerned, he had grown more vigilant in his efforts to serve him.

  "I was just wondering, sir, if I could get you anything? A cool drink? Some lemonade, perhaps?"

  "No.. .no, thanks. There's only one thing that could make me feel better right now, and it's not food."

  "What is it then, sir? Tell me, and I'll get it for you," he offered earnestly. He cared deeply for this man who had saved him from almost certain death as a boy when he was being forced to work in the swamps. Charles Kane had bought him on the spot and had taken him into his own household. During all the years since, Weddington had always tried to do his best for him. He considered him to be More than just his owner.

  "I was just wishing Nick was here,"' Charles answered, turning to give him an almost wistful smile. "I miss him."

  "It is awful quiet around here without him, that's for sure. Well, if you need anything, you just let me know."

  "I will, don't worry."

  When the servant had gone and Charles was alone with his thoughts again, he found himself sighing in deep regret. Regret was one emotion he'd never dealt with very often, for he always took the time to think his decisions through carefully. Once he made up his mind, he never looked back. This time, however, he was afraid he'd been wrong.

  Charles had thought Nick hadn't married because he was having too much fun. He had thought he would settle down quickly once the line had been drawn. Instead, he'd had to sit back and watch his son's frantic search for a wife. It hadn't been easy.

  Charles certainly hadn't meant to force Nick into choosing someone he didn't love. He'd wanted him to find someone like he'd found Andrea, all those years ago. There had been nothing frantic or desperate about their courtship and marriage. It had been the best, most wonderful time of his life. He had thought his ultimatum would make Nick realize that he could love one of the girls from the area and that it was time to marry. How wrong he'd been.

  If Nick had ridden up the drive at that moment, Charles knew he would have welcomed him with open arms. He would have told him he'd changed his mind and that he didn't have to get married by September. He would have told him that he loved him, and then he would have hugged him, as he had longed to do for so many days now.

  Charles's eyes were suddenly burning and his throat felt tight. He turned away from the view of his beloved property, hoping that the business Nick had to take care of in Mobile would be quickly dispatched and that he'd be coming home soon. His left arm was aching dully again, an occurrence that was growing more and more common, and he massaged it distractedly as he went back indoors.

  "Weddington!" he called loudly for the butler as he closed the main door behind him.

  "Yes, sir?" He came rushing from the back of the house.

  "Send word into town. I want to see Aaron O'Neill right away."

  "I'll send someone right now," Weddington promised.

  Feeling a little better, Charles wandered into his study and sat down at his desk. He could hear Weddington's footsteps echo through the massive house as he went in search of an errand boy, and he knew he had to agree with him: It was far too quiet around here when Nick wasn't home.

  Jordan's nerves were stretched taut as she sat at the small dressing table in the hotel room, wearing only her shift and brushing out her hair. The day had finally come, and she wasn't sure whether she was more frightened or excited. In just a few scant hours they would be going onboard the ship that would take them to New Orleans, and within three days she would be at Nick's home meeting his father for the very first time.

  The prospect of finally coming face to face with Charles Kane frightened her. From the things Nick had said about him, he sounded like a very powerful, very intimidating man. She wondered if he'd like her, and she feared that he wouldn't.

  "You look pensive, my dear. Is there something bothering you?" Audrey asked as she observed her young ward from across the room. Her sense of decorum had been outraged when she'd discovered that Jordan and Nick had connecting rooms, and she'd immediately directed that a trundle bed be installed in Jordan's chamber for her. She had been at her side ever since.

  "I was just worrying a little about meeting Nick's father."

  "Ali," Audrey clucked knowingly, "your first encounter with your future father-in-law." She paused thoughtfully. "Well, as I told Mr. MacKenzie, I did have the occasion to meet Charles Kane socially many years ago. He was a very nice man...so handsome and completely devoted to his wife. With your Nick having had a good example to follow, you're going to have a wonderful marriage. It's easy to see that he's very much in love with you," she told her with a happy little sigh. "Why just look at all the fine, wonderful clothes he bought you! That was so kind of him after your things were ruined on the trip."

  Audrey gestured toward the big traveling trunk that was now filled with the fashionable garments Eleanor Marsh had taken such great pains to see finished in time for their departure.

  Jordan smiled softly at the little woman who had come to mean so much to her in such a short period of time. She was glad Miss Layton thought they were very much in love. It meant their little performance was believable. Since she'd arrived to guard her reputation, Nick had played the perfect fiance. He'd been atten tive, courteous, and always thoughtful. Thanks to Miss Layton's vigilant presence, he'd had no occasion to press his more amorous affections, and Jordan had been relieved. Jordan wondered what Miss Layton would think if she ever found out the whole truththat he didn't really care about her and that all those wonderful clothes were just stage props necessary for his deception.

  "Nick is special."

  "That he is. He's a good-looking young man, and according to what Mr. MacKenzie told me, he's very hard working, too. The Kane family owns one of the richest plantations on the Mississippi. They're quite prominent, you know. Your future is assured."

  "I'm probably just worrying needlessly."

  "That's right," Audrey sympathized as she came to give her a reassuring hug. "Just the wedding jitters, I'm sure. It's difficult enough to make plans to marry while you're living in the bosom of your family, but here you are, practically alone, in a strange new country, without even your mother to guide you through all this."

  "There are moments when I miss her a lot. I loved her very much."

  "I'm sure you did. No one can ever take the place of your mother, and I shall not even endeavor to try. I shall, however, try to help you in every way I can, so you can enjoy your big day to the fullest. How soon after you arrive at Riverwood do you plan for the ceremony to take place? Are you having a big wedding or just a small private one?"

  "I'm not really certain. Nick and I haven't really discussed the details yet. I think he's waiting until I meet his father first before we set the actual day, but I'm sure it will be soon, sometime before the middle of September."

  Audrey gave her another impetuous hug. "Weddings are so exciting. This will be fun, you'll see. Now, I don't want to see another worried frown from you. You've the looks and disposition of an angel. There's no way Charles Kane won't love you."

  At that precise moment the connecting door flew open and Nick came striding into the room without thinking. "Jordan, I..."

  "Mr. Kane!" Audrey quickly moved to block his view of the scantily clad Jordan and turned a icy gaze on him.

  Nick
realized immediately that he'd made a mistake. He had only wanted to tell Jordan that they would be leaving for the docks within the hour, and he found himself flushing hotly under Miss Layton's aggrieved glare.

  "Sorry ...ah...1 just needed..." He was backing into his own room and stammering like a green, callow youth.

  "Whatever it is you needed, you should have taken the time to knock first. As a gentleman, surely you know it's not proper for you to come in here unannounced," she lectured. "Now, please... go. Go on..." She waved him out and did not move from her protective position until the door was safely shut.

  Nick closed the door and stood there staring at it, scowling blackly.

  "Damn..." he muttered, feeling like a fool and knowing that he'd just acted like one. The unexpected glimpse he'd gotten of Jordan sitting at the dressing table in such a delectable state of undress had rendered him simple-minded. The lovely sight of her bared shoulders and the hint of cleavage had stricken the very reason he'd gone into her room in the first place from his mind.

  Nick didn't like making an ass out of himself, and he slammed around his room getting the last of his be longings together. Ever since Miss Layton's arrival on the scene a little over a week ago, Nick had taken to playing the ardent suitor. It had been easy for him, for Jordan had played her part with equal dramatic ability. Still, knowing that it was all a charade, Nick didn't understand why just the sight of Jordan half dressed could affect him so. He was no bumbling virgin unfamiliar with the female form. He was a man, tried and true. Why was it then that Jordan, a woman he couldn't possibly want, could stir him up so? He didn't know, and it was aggravating him.

  A knock at the door dragged his thoughts away from his frustration, and he was glad when he discovered it was Slater. He would let him be the one to inform Miss Layton of their plans to leave.

  The main emotion Philip was feeling was relief as he stood on the deck of the ship and watched as the vessel manuevered it? way out of Mobile Bay heading now for New Orleans. Every additional mile they put between themselves and their port of entry only helped to insure his and Jordan's safety that much more.

  Philip would never be pleased with their situation, but he was as content as he could be. Though he hadn't been able to speak with his sister since that day in the hotel lobby, he rested much better now knowing that the imposing Miss Layton was protecting her honor. No doubt Kane had hired her to keep the two of them apart, but in doing so, he'd helped Philip's own cause. Philip knew if he couldn't get near enough to Jordan to speak to her privately, then neither could her "fiance." Jordan's virtue was assured.

  "These arrangements will be fine," Audrey an nounced as she surveyed the small stateroom she and Jordan would be sharing for the short voyage. "Although, I must warn you that there are times when I do not travel by sea very well."

  "You get seasick?" Jordan asked, sitting down on the side of one bunk and testing its softness.

  "It happens occasionally. I'll be fine until we leave the bay, then we'll just have to wait and see. How was your trip over? Was the sea rough?"

  "Very much so," she told her. "Our accommodations were not nearly this nice, and there were days on end when I was so sick the thought of food nearly laid me low. It was not a pleasant experience."

  "Well, hopefully we'll both make it to New Orleans just fine," Audrey declared with optimism.

  It was less than an hour later, as they were still settling into their cabin, that Audrey's dire predictions came true. As the vessel entered the Gulf waters and headed on its westerly course, the terrible sickness struck. Her coloring paled dramatically until she was as white as a sheet, and the nausea and weakness forced her to take to her bed.

  When Nick knocked on the door, having come to accompany both ladies to the midday meal, he found that Jordan was busy tending the prostrate chaperone. She had rolled up the sleeves of her new turquoise daygown and had unbuttoned several of the buttons at the bodice of the high-necked gown to keep from getting too warm.

  "Miss Layton's not feeling well?" he asked, his eyes darkening in concern as he saw Jordan. Earlier, when he'd first seen her wearing the new gown, he'd meant to tell her that she looked pretty. Somehow there hadn't been time then. Now, seeing her with the bodice partially undone, he thought she looked even more beautiful. His gaze lingered on the V created by the parted fabric, and he wondered what it would be like to press a kiss to her throat there.

  Jordan was unaware of the direction of his thoughts as she gave him an apologetic smile. She stepped out into the companionway, pulling the stateroom door almost closed behind her to afford Miss Layton her privacy. "Yes, I'm afraid she's quite seasick. We won't be able to join you."

  "Are you hungry? Shall I have something brought over?" Nick offered, knowing that while Miss Layton might not want to eat, Jordan was probably starving. It had been a while since they'd breakfasted.

  "Thanks, but no."

  "You're not getting sick, too?"

  "No, I'm fine, really," she hastened to reassure him, wondering why he was even bothering to act concerned since there was no one around to hear. Surely, he didn't truly care. "I just thought that as miserable as she's feeling right now, she shouldn't be left alone. Perhaps by dinner things will be better."

  "I hope so. I'll check with you then." Nick started to go, then changed his mind and turned back to her just before she shut the door. "Oh, and Jordan?"

  She stuck her head back out to see what it was he wanted. "Yes?"

  "I meant to tell you earlier... That dress is lovely on you. I knew the color would be good when we picked it."

  With that he strode off to join Slater, leaving Jordan staring after him with something akin to amazement.

  Jordan passed the afternoon tending to the other woman's needs. She bathed her face with cool water and tried to keep her distracted with light conversation, punctuated by trips to empty the slop jar. Audrey appreciated her efforts, but the queasiness grew so bad that it was impossible for her to talk much. She lay quietly upon the bed, longing for either terra firma or a quick, painless death-neither of which she was afforded. When a particularly bad wave of nausea wracked her, she gave an abject groan of misery.

  "Do you feel worse?" Jordan was instantly at her side.

  "It's impossible for me to feel worse, my dear," Audrey tried to make a joke of it, but somehow at that moment, it wasn't redly funny. Maybe later..."If I felt any worse, I'd be dead, and then I'd feel better."

  Shock registered on Jordan's features when she noticed that her guardian's color had turned a particularly sickly shade of green. "Is there anything I can do?"

  "No, no. I've lived through this several times before, and while it's never pleasant, it's also never fatal. I think if I could just manage to fall asleep for a little while, it might pass," she told her weakly.

  Jordan could hear the exhaustion in her voice, so she sat down on her own bunk to keep the vigil. She was hungry and her stomach grumbled in protest, but she ignored it. Maybe later when Nick came she'd have him bring her something.

  The soft knock at the door made Jordan realize that she must have dozed off herself. She glanced over at her companion to find her sound asleep. Pleased that she was finally getting some rest, she hurried to answer the door before whoever it was knocked again. Jordan opened the portal a crack, and seeing Nick, slipped silently from the room. She put a finger to her lips to stop any questions he might have until she was safely out in the hall.

  "She's asleep, and I didn't want to wake her."

  "It's time for dinner. Can you get away?"

  "I am hungry, but I wonder if I should leave her..." Jordan looked back guiltily.

  "You have to eat, Jordan. There's no reason for you to starve to death just because Miss Layton's under the weather. I promise we won't be gone long," he coaxed, wanting to spend some time alone with her without the eagle-eyed Miss Layton hovering nearby.

  "I suppose not," she agreed. She liked his logic, but she had a feeling her guardian wouldn
't. "I'll need a little time to freshen up a bit."

  "Shall I meet you on deck?"

  "Fine."

  For some reason, Jordan was feeling decidedly wicked when she reentered the stateroom. She used her hunger as justification for her going with Nick, but she still couldn't help but feel a rush of forbidden excitement over the idea of being with him without Miss Layton.

  Jordan carefully selected a demure, rose-colored gown that set off the beauty of her complexion. Once she'd dressed, she turned her attention to her hair and wound it into an attractive chignon. She took the time to study her reflection in the small mirror over the washstand. Jordan wanted to make sure she looked her best, and as she smoothed back an errant curl, she wondered why she was suddenly so concerned with her appearance. She wasn't going to impress anyone tonight. She was merely going to the ship's dining room, enjoy her dinner, and then return to her cabin. That was all. Even so, as she crept quietly from the stateroom, her heart was racing.

  Nick was waiting alone at the rail when Jordan came up on deck. She spotted him immediately, for he stood out among the others, a man among men, and her heart beat a little faster. There was a certain male power that emanated from him. Nick was the kind of man any woman would have been proud to call her own, and for the time being, at least, she could pretend she really did hold his love. Her head held high, a small smile curving her lips, she walked regally toward him.

  Nick did not know why he felt the need to look around at that particular moment, but he did. As he glanced over his shoulder and saw her coming toward him looking like an angel straight from heaven, something flared within him. He straightened slowly, never taking his eyes off her, then strode forth to meet her.

  As Slater folded his napkin and placed it back on the table, he reflected on when, if ever, he'd passed a more amusing evening. From beneath lowered lids, he glanced at his dining companions and was hard put not to smile. Nick was glowering, Montgomery was glowering, and Jordan was trying her best not to notice either man's discomfort.