Authors: Sylvia McDaniel
Aunt Clara and Suzanne pulled to a stop at the river where they were to
part company
.
"You two are slowpokes,
lollygaging
behind us,'' Aunt Clara admonished, a sly smile on her elderly face.
"Alexandra was telling me about England," Connor said, giving her a quick wink.
He pulled his horse close to Alexandra's and reached out and took her hand."I must race this impertinent child home so that I will have some control over her in the next few days. Otherwise, she will lord her victory over me for weeks." He kissed the back of Alexandra's hand.
"Until Saturday, Mrs. Thurston."
The way he drawled out her name sent a shiver down Alexandra's back. Connor Manning had definitely set out to make her his next conquest. She wouldn't become a willing accomplice to Mr. Manning's seduction.
But still, there was something about the man that sent her senses into utter chaos. Getting close to Connor Manning was like playing with fire. Too close and she'd get singed. But she had no intention of getting burned, not after what she'd learned at Gordon's hands.
Suzanne waved.
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Thurston."
Alexandra smiled, waving back as she watched the two of them take off over the fields, racing back to their home.
Aunt Clara turned her horse toward home, a knowing smile on her lips. "So what do you think of my neighbor, Alexandra? He seems to have taken an interest in you."
Alexandra pulled her horse in fine with her aunt's as they began a gentle trot toward home. "I think he's an egotistical man who could charm a snake from its charmer."
Aunt Clara's laughter filled the air. "You're absolutely right, my dear. He definitely has a way with the ladies.
A fault that has gotten him into trouble a time or two."
"What kind of trouble?''
Alexandra asked, her curiosity fully aroused.
Why did the words
trouble, women, and Connor
just seem to go together? She could just imagine the man's exploits.
"Let's just say that when he was younger he did a very foolish thing and he's paid for it dearly. Some people hold the past against him, forgetting all the good things he's done since."
"Excuse me, Aunt Clara, but the man hardly appears to be a saint. What kind of good things could he have done?"
"He took over the raising of that young girl. His mother died birthing Suzanne, then his father passed away eight years later. He's raised her by himself, as well as run River Bend."
For a moment, Alexandra was surprised. He didn't seem the kind of man to have the patience necessary to raise a child. "Is that all that makes you consider him to be a good man? What was the trouble you mentioned?"
Aunt Clara gave her a stern look. "Several years ago, when we had that bad hurricane, he was out helping his neighbors even before his own plantation was repaired. As for all of the scandal in his life, you should ask him, dear. I'm not going to spread malicious gossip, especially when it's several years old."
Alexandra couldn't help but feel disappointed.
Of all times for Aunt Clara to suddenly feel the need to be discreet.
So Connor had something in his past he'd rather forget about.
Something that made society look down upon him.
It was the first thing she'd found they had in common. She couldn't help but wonder what he'd done.
The man looked at her as if he'd like to get her alone and remove her clothing piece by piece. And when he was finished ... Lord, she'd never thought of a man in such a way. Though Connor Manning had certainly gained her attention, he would never touch her heart.
***
Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, though Alexandra had prayed for rain all night. But the sky was a brilliant blue that somehow reminded her of Connor's eyes. The last few days she had thought about their conversations, replaying them over and over in her mind. Originally, she'd had no intention of going on this picnic. But a small part of her was thrilled about the prospect of being with people again. And though she would never admit it to anyone else, an even larger part was anxious to see Connor, to spar with him.
Twisting her hair, she placed the ivory comb in her locks, finishing the last touches of her toilet. For a woman who had sworn to stay away from men, she felt a surprising measure of excitement. The years of Gordon's betrayal had dimmed the memories of a young woman experiencing her first courting. No matter what the age, Alexandra had to admit there was something alluring about the attention of a man.
But she would not succumb to his sweet illusions and empty promises. She'd already played that game once and lost. No, there would be no second time at love, no second chance for a man to control her every decision, her very life.
At the sound of a buggy pulling up outside, she hurried to the window. Below, two chestnut ponies pulled a
visdvis
carriage, an overlarge buggy loaded with three other couples.
She couldn't help but feel excited.
After today he might never want to escort her again. She didn't have to enjoy herself or like the gardens one bit. But the opportunity to needle Mr. Manning was enticing.
A knock sounded on the front door, and she picked up her parasol and headed out of the bedroom. When she reached the top of the stairs, she glanced down and found his eyes on her, dark with some unreadable emotion. Even from a distance, she watched as he thoroughly scanned her yellow gingham dress. She brought her hand up to her throat, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat.
One look from Connor managed to awaken more nerves than Gordon had ever excited.
Alexandra took a deep breath as he moved to greet her at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes never leaving her as she descended. On the bottom step he reached for her hand and kissed the back of it, his lips warm through her gloves.
"Good morning, Mrs. Thurston. Yellow is quite becoming on you."
She reluctantly gave Connor a glittering smile that felt frozen on her face. "Thank you. Are we ready to go?"
"Yes."
She swallowed and looked up to meet her father's eyes, which were beaming with satisfaction.
Connor reached out and shook her father's outstretched hand.
"Nice to see you again, sir.
We should be back before dark."
"Splendid day for such an outing,'' her father declared.
She looked nervously at her father, who watched them with interest. A tremor went through her as she remembered their earlier argument. She shook herself. There was nothing to worry about; her father could not force her to marry.
"Have a good time," her father called as Connor escorted her out the door, his hand resting possessively on the curve of her back.
Once outside, Connor whispered, "I'm glad you decided to come after all."
She gave him a disdainful look, her mind still on her father. "One outing means nothing, Mr. Manning.
Especially when my father responded for me."
"I find it hard to believe any man could force you to do anything you didn't want to."
She pondered his statement. "You're absolutely right. But that doesn't mean I came because of you."
He laughed. "Resist all you want, Alexandra. I think you're beginning to enjoy my company."
Unfortunately his words were true. But she couldn't lose sight of her goal or her revenge, which didn't include Connor Manning.
They reached the wagon, silencing their conversation. Connor assisted her into the carriage,
then
introduced her to the other couples before picking up the reins and calling to the ponies.
The women stared at her while the men nodded their acquaintance. Nothing was said of her past, but their demeanor indicated they knew. The next hour was spent in stilted conversation, Connor trying to ease the atmosphere. Alexandra occasionally smiled at Connor's efforts to make everyone feel comfortable. Long ago she'd given up worrying about how people responded to her. She couldn't change it. She gave them all a bored glance. They were of little concern.
When the group arrived at the gardens, Connor picked out a shady spot and spread a big blanket. The men carried the baskets of food, which were quickly dispersed.
Connor waited on Alexandra, filling her plate with fried chicken, cantaloupe, and potato salad, behaving like the perfect gentleman, while she sat back and enjoyed the beauty of the gardens.
"Thank you," she said when he handed the plate.
"My pleasure," he replied. "I'm glad you decided to join us today."
"Even after the way your friends have reacted to me?"
Connor shrugged.
"Their loss.
Besides, the women are jealous of your good looks and the men are frustrated that they didn't think to ask you first."
Alexandra smiled. "You do have a way with words, Mr. Manning."
"Thank you. I think that's the first compliment you've given me. I'll take it."
After lunch the men set up a game of horseshoes and passed the hour showing the women their prowess at throwing a shoe at a peg in the ground. The women sat back, relaxing in the shade of a sycamore tree. Alexandra sat a short distance away, near enough to watch the men, but not close to the women. When Connor was finally declared the champion, the men called it quits.
For a while, the couples all sat on blankets, reposing in the shade, until one by one they strolled off in pairs, leaving Alexandra and Connor alone. Uneasy, Alexandra started to pack up the plates and silverware, aware of Connor sitting two feet away, watching her intently.
"There's no need to be nervous," he stated.
She glanced up at him and swallowed. When would she ever learn to hide her emotions?
"I'm not," she lied. "I just thought that while the others are off, I would pack all this up."
"Let me help you." He moved toward her, his hand outstretched, reaching for a bowl of strawberries. Their hands touched, sending an instant awareness zinging along her arm. She glanced up. Her gaze met the hot glint of his blue eyes.
"Sorry, I guess we both had the same thought." But he didn't appear contrite in the least about touching her. In fact, he seemed amused because she was acting like a bumbling child, nervous and unsure of herself. Women probably responded to him like this all the time. How he must be laughing, assuming she was just like all the other women he had experienced.
Not likely! She had not expected to feel anxious. In fact, her reaction was completely at odds with her cocky attitude earlier. But being alone with him was unsettling, to say the least.
When everything had been packed away, he turned to her and asked, "Would you like to take a stroll around the pond? We could feed the fish."
"That would be lovely," she replied, wanting to do anything besides sit there, alone with him. Other people were milling along the walks, and she would feel safer among them.
He held out his hand and she grasped his palm. Even through her glove she could feel its callused roughness as he helped her up from the ground. Most gentlemen's hands were soft and smooth, but she liked the rugged feel of his palm against her glove.
He placed her hand on his arm as they began to stroll. Connor had left his coat back at the buggy and through his white linen
shirt,
she could feel the strength of his arm beneath her stiff palm.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out some of the leftover bread. "Watch this."
As he dropped the bread into the water, large orange goldfish and
longwhiskered
catfish rose to the top to gobble the tasty delight. The fish churned the water, fighting for each morsel.
She smiled. "Oh, my, look at them. They're so hungry."
"Visitors feed them all the time, so they've grown to expect the bread. Here, you feed them." He placed the bread in her hand, the feel of his fingers on her gloved hand shooting awareness through her. He glanced away, but not before she noted the way his eyes darkened with some unfathomable expression.
She dropped the bread into the water and watched as the fish once again boiled the surface, their tails and mouths going end over end. Laughing, she was surprised to realize how much she was enjoying the afternoon. Connor's company had been unexpectedly pleasant. He'd been a perfect gentleman the entire time. The man had a sharp mind and a keen sense of humor. Her life had been dull and gray for so long, and Connor teased her until she wanted to laugh, wanted to have a good time.
He raised her hand and put it back on his arm. "Let's look at the flowers before we return to meet the others."
"All right," she answered, close enough to smell the musky scent of his cologne. It was pleasing, not too sweet or too strong, reminding her of soft wool sweaters and wood smoke.
She couldn't help but sneak a quick glance at the sideburns clipped close to his ear. His strong jaw was slightly shadowed by his deepening beard. For a moment, she felt an urge to run the back of her hand along his cheek. Would it feel smooth or rough to the touch?
She shook herself. What was the matter with her?
They strolled through the garden, Connor pointing out the local plants to her, showing her which were native and which had been imported. The further they
walked,
the fewer people they encountered. A feeling of isolation began to creep upon Alexandra, though she said nothing as they continued further into the flowers.