Lost Lady (James River Trilogy 2) - Page 67

st few days? And how did you get into my safe?”

Unceremoniously, he lifted and dropped her onto the buggy seat. “A man should always have some secrets. I’ll tell you on our fiftieth wedding anniversary. We’ll gather all twelve of our children and tell them the story of the world’s most enterprising, creative, most romantic courtship ever.”

Shall we mention the elephant manure? she thought, but didn’t say anything as they drove back to town.

Chapter 20

AT HER DOOR, TRAVIS GAVE A BONE-POPPING YAWN, KISSED her hand as though it were an afterthought, walked through her bedroom and out the door leading into the interior of the inn, and started up the back stairs to, she assumed, his own room. Stunned, surprised, bewildered, Regan stood by her bed and stared at the closed door.

After all he’d put her through, after all the proposals of marriage, he takes her out to a moonlight picnic, never once mentions marriage but instead talks mostly about elephant manure, and afterward leaves her in her bedroom without so much as a goodnight kiss. All evening he hadn’t touched her, hadn’t even seemed to be aware that she was near him and so very hungry for him. Of course, she’d concealed her feelings quite well, she knew that, but surely he must have been feeling some passion or at least a longing himself. Maybe making love once in four years was enough for him. After all, Travis was getting on in years; he was about thirty-eight years old now. Perhaps at that age a man….

Her thoughts trailed off as she began to undress. When she’d put the dress on she’d unconsciously imagined Travis taking it off her. Maybe he didn’t want a wanton for a wife, she thought. Yes! That must be it. He’d always thought they were married, and now that they weren’t…. No, they weren’t married all that time they were on board ship.

Sitting down on the bed, she pulled off her slippers and stockings. It could just be that Travis was tired, just as he’d said, and didn’t have the energy for rolling around with her tonight.

She slipped into a plain white cotton nightgown, checked on her sleeping daughter, and climbed into her big, cold, empty bed. An hour later she was still wide awake and knew she’d never sleep tonight, not as long as she was in one bed and Travis in another.

“Damn his tiredness!” she said aloud, throwing back the light cover.

In her wardrobe was something she’d never worn, a gift from Brandy. It was a white silk negligee, soft, almost transparent, and so low-cut it left little to the imagination. There were only inches of bodice above a white satin ribbon, and those two inches were very tight, pushing Regan’s breasts high above the fabric.

“He may be tired, but I doubt if he’s dead,” she smiled as she looked into a mirror. Flinging a cloak about herself, she went up the stairs toward Travis’s room.

Travis was standing in the center of his room, smiling to himself, a glass of port in his hand, when Margo slammed into his room. His smile vanished immediately. “Get out,” he said flatly. “I’m expecting Regan any minute.”

“That trollop!” Margo hissed. “Travis, you make me sick! Do you know how you’ve looked the last few days? Everyone, this entire town, is laughing at you. They’ve never seen any man make such a complete ass of himself.”

“You’ve had your say. Now get out,” he said coldly.

“I haven’t said half of what should be said. I’ve been asking a lot of questions in the last few days, and from what I gather you don’t even know who this woman is. Why should she marry you, a big, dumb, crude American? You’re so proud of that plantation of yours, but did you know your little Regan could buy it and not even miss the money?” She waited, watching to see how Travis was taking this news. He didn’t pause or blink an eye, just looked at her with faint distaste.

“She’s worth millions,” Margo breathed. “And next week it comes to her. She can have any man she wants, so why would she want an American farmer?”

Still Travis didn’t speak.

“Maybe you did know,” Margo said. “Maybe you’ve known all along and that’s why you’re willing to make such a complete fool of yourself to get her. A man’ll do a lot to possess that kind of money.”

She didn’t say another word as Travis’s hand grabbed her hair, pulling her head backward. “Get out,” he said, his voice low. “And may you hope I never see you again.” With that he gave her a push that sent her slamming against the door.

She recovered almost instantly. “Travis,” she said, throwing herself at him, her arms around his chest. “Don’t you know how much I love you? I have always loved you, ever since we were children. You’ve always been mine. Every day I’ve died a little more since you brought her home and said she was your wife, and now this—all this idiocy over her, and I don’t understand why. She’s never loved you. She left you, but I’ve always been near, always close when you need me. I can’t compete with her money, but I can give you love if you’ll just let me. Open your eyes, Travis, and look at me. See how much I love you.”

Peeling her arms away from him, Travis held her at arm’s length. “You have never loved me. All you ever wanted was my plantation. I’ve known for years that you’re in debt. I helped you often, but I’ll not help you to the extent of marrying you.” His voice was quiet, even gentle, and it was obvious he didn’t like seeing her disintegrate like this.

When Regan quietly opened Travis’s door, expecting him to be asleep and to slip into bed with him, she saw him holding Margo, his eyes looking down at her with gentleness, tenderness. Regan pivoted on one heel and began to run.

Travis discarded Margo onto the floor and took off after Regan.

Regan, knowing she’d never outdistance Travis to her own room, tried the door three down from Travis’s, Farrell’s room. Travis grabbed her cape just as she disappeared into the room, leaving him holding it as he heard the lock click in the door.

“Regan?” Farrell said, his eyes wide as he lit a candle, quickly pulled on his pants, and left the bed all in one motion. “You look terrified.”

Eyes wide, Regan leaned against the door, her breasts heaving above the low gown. “Margo and Travis,” she choked.

The next moment she sprang away from the door as something heavy hit it. At the next blow Travis’s booted foot came through the wood, followed by his hand as he unlocked the door. Flinging it wide, he crossed the room in two long strides and grabbed Regan’s arm.

“I’ve had enough games,” he said. “This time you’re going to obey me whether you want to or not.”

“Now see here!” Farrell said, reaching for Travis’s arm.

Tags: Jude Deveraux James River Trilogy Historical
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