Audrey and the Maverick (21 page)

“Mr. McCaid is,” Mabel argued.

“Where are you going for them?” Luc wanted to know.

“Over by the river.”

Luc nodded. “That’s a bad patch. Lots of snakes over that way. I guess we could go and scare the snakes out so the girls would be safe.”

“Yeah!” Kurt and Tommy agreed.

Julian looked at the mob of children. This had become an ordeal. He’d just wanted to sneak away for a quick bouquet, but the excitement on their faces made it impossible for him to ignore them. “Well then, let’s get on our way.”

They walked through the hallway and into the kitchen. All laughter and chatter died when they saw Audrey. She must have come down the back stairs while they were still arguing. Julian groaned inwardly at their lack of subtlety.

“I was wondering where the children were.” Audrey looked from one excited face to another and frowned. “What’s going on?”

Julian drew himself to his full height, tucking his hands behind him. “Going on? I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. We were just running an errand.”

“An errand? Out here?” Audrey asked. Mabel giggled. Julian arched an eyebrow at her, instantly silencing her.

“Yes,” he answered Audrey.

“With the children?”

“Yes.”

“But they’re in their nightclothes.”

He looked at the eight children, dressed in their nightclothes, the boys in shirts and pants, the girls in nightgowns, the white cotton stark against their black boots. Their faces were clean, their hair combed, the girls sporting neat braids for bed. “So they are.”

Audrey crossed her arms. “Julian, they shouldn’t be running about like this before bed. It’s hard enough to get them to settle down.”

“Would it hurt this once?” Julian asked, the hint of a grin in his eyes.

“Well—”

“Great!” Kurt spoke up, hearing the hesitation in her voice. “Everybody out!”

The kids ran outside, a wave of white. Julian did grin then. “We won’t be long.” He lifted Amy onto his shoulders, then led his expedition over the hill toward camp. Willie ran after them, barking with the excitement of having all the kids in motion at once. When they were out of sight of the house, they veered toward the river. He had no idea what he would find, but hoped some flowers still bloomed.

He was in luck. Pale lupines, petite scarlet flowers, and yellow daisies dotted the field. The girls quickly set about the work of picking flowers. Kurt and Luc found a couple of long sticks and walked ahead of them, whacking at the ground and making a terrible ruckus to chase the snakes away. Colleen had Amy fold her nightgown into a pouch to hold the flowers the kids collected.

Julian looked across the field, seeing the purples, reds, and yellows of the flowers, and the larger white spots of the children. They were like little human flowers. Alive and busy and perfect. Strange he’d ever been afraid of them. Amy let part of her nightgown drop as she put her hand in his and smiled up at him.

“Flowers are pretty, Juli.”

He swallowed hard. He could only nod, stunned by the realization he not only loved Audrey, but he loved her orphans too. He helped Amy right her hem to hold the flowers in, then got busy plucking flowers himself. In very little time, with so many helpers, her makeshift pouch was full.

He swept Amy up into his arms, holding her so that the flowers wouldn’t spill, then led his expedition back toward the house. He sent the boys ahead to have Audrey hide in the library while he and the girls arranged the flowers in her room. When they were done, several glasses filled with purple, yellow, and rose-colored flowers graced every flat surface in her room. Julian looked around with pride. It wasn’t a couple dozen roses from a florist’s hothouse, but it was a gift a man could be proud of.

A thundering on the stairs alerted him to the boys’ imminent return. He ushered the girls out of the room and closed the door. Tommy and Joey were leading a blindfolded Audrey up the steps. Outside her room, they took the kerchief off. She looked suspiciously from face to face. Julian leaned against the banister, his arms folded in front of him.

“It’s a surprise. In your room,” Kurt explained.

“You wouldn’t let them put spiders in there, would you?” she asked Julian. He only smiled. She sighed and opened her door, then gasped as she saw what they had done. She went to the closest glass and breathed the flowers’ sweet fragrance. When she turned and looked at Julian and the kids, there were tears in her eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” She laughed and kissed the girls, who danced around her, then did the same for the boys.

“Aren’t you going to kiss Mr. McCaid? It was his idea,” Mabel said.

Julian hadn’t moved from his place at the banister. He lifted an eyebrow as her gaze came to him. She smiled as she neared him. He smiled back at her. She was more beautiful than the whole roomful of flowers. She stopped next to him. He could sense her hesitation. The children waited, watching and silent.

She took hold of his folded arms. “Thank you too, Julian.” He leaned forward so that she could reach his cheek. When she didn’t immediately pull away, he wrapped an arm about her and pulled her against his chest. He closed his eyes and kissed her temple.

“You’re welcome.” God, he loved her. He’d traveled, like a lost soul, for half his lifetime just to find the arms of this woman. He couldn’t wait to tell her. Soon.

Soon she would believe him.

“Why did you do it, Julian?” Audrey asked much later that night, lying naked beneath him.

“Well, it’s awkward to admit.” His eyes swept over her face as he slowly grinned down at her. “I had an argument with my Self. My Self said you were more beautiful than any flower alive. But I’m more logical than my Self. I argued that there are many fine-looking flowers in the world. We agreed, my Self and I, that the only way to resolve the issue was to fill your room with flowers and see who was right.”

Audrey combed her fingers through the lock of hair that slipped so easily down his forehead. “And who was right?”

He looked at the petals scattered across the pillow around her, the humor slipping from his face. “I’m sorry to say, I lost the argument. My Self had the right of it. No flower alive can compare to you.”

“I’m glad that’s resolved.” She smiled into his somber gaze. “I should hate for you to be divided against yourself.”

Audrey folded her legs beneath her and sipped her coffee. She enjoyed this time of the day. She and Julian sometimes just sat together and watched the setting sun paint the summer sky. Other times he brought out a chessboard or they played cards. On this evening, they read the latest stack of newspapers the supply wagon had brought in.

She looked at the paper folded on her lap. There had been some discussion of an actress’s reappearance at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, D.C., marking the conclusion of her mourning period following her husband’s death. The reviewer felt Mme. Delacroix had delivered a substandard performance, but did note that Washington’s elite had turned out for her latest appearance and seemed quite taken with her.

“Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to visit our nation’s capital. These papers make it sound so exciting,” she said as she set the paper aside.

Julian reached over and linked his fingers with hers. “I have a house in Fairfax. There’s plenty of room for all of us. Say the word, I’ll take you there. With the train in Cheyenne, we could be there within two weeks. We could go to the theatre.” He grinned at her. “We could attend a ball.”

Audrey laughed. Julian lived in a strangely unreal world. “Mistresses aren’t allowed to attend such fine functions with their lovers.”

When Julian didn’t respond, she caught him gazing intently at the newspaper she’d just put down. He released her hand and took up the paper, frowning. She watched him read a short article, then gaze at nothing as he stared vacantly into space. After a minute, he stood up and glanced at her, his dark eyes stormy. He excused himself, saying he had some correspondence to see to.

He never came to her room that night. It wasn’t until the next morning when Audrey had a chance to discover what he’d read that had so changed their evening.

Several articles were on the page that lay faceup on his desk. The one that stood out, however, sent chills down her spine:
HEIRESS TO BANKING FORTUNE ACCEPTS PROPOSAL
. Beneath that headline read a short clip about the millionaire banker’s daughter accepting the suit of a steel tycoon’s son. The marriage was set only a month hence.

Audrey sat heavily in Julian’s desk chair. She knew, by some instinct, this heiress had been one of the women he’d intended to court. He moved in circles so far out of her realm, she could barely grasp the magnitude of their social differences. One thing was clear: he was losing his chosen mate as he wiled away the summer here.

She’d known all along their time would end. She’d had weeks and weeks to come to terms with that truth. She just hadn’t done it yet. She had to let him go, now, before the price became too dear for his generosity to her. If he left now, he could be there in plenty of time to stop the marriage. Somehow she had to convince him to go.

The question plagued her throughout the day. That evening, she sat on the bench at the foot of her bed, brushing her hair so she could put it into a braid for the night, still without a resolution. She heard him leave his room by the balcony door and come toward hers. As was his custom, he entered without knocking and took a seat in the wing chair he’d moved into her room. He liked to watch her prepare for bed. Why he let her braid her hair, she never knew. Most nights he ended up undoing it.

Stalling, she took her time weaving a tight braid. When she finished, she looked at him. Only a single candle burned in the room. His features were cast in shadow. His chin rested on his hand, held between his thumb and index finger. He was in as pensive a mood as she was.

She went to kneel at his feet, praying she somehow would find the words she needed to set him free. “Julian, when I stole your change purse, I never intended to steal your life.” That was more abrupt than she desired, but better to be forthcoming than evasive with what she had to say.

Tension whispered across his features. “You’ve stolen nothing except my—”

She lurched forward, quickly pressing her fingers to his mouth, stopping the words she knew he would regret, words that would cement him to her. “I’ve enjoyed our time together, but you need to get back to your life, and I need to start mine.”

She rose to her feet and stepped away, giving him her back so he wouldn’t see from her expression how hollow her words were. This was what had to be. “I’ve gotten quite good with the sewing machine. And now that I’ve finished your curtains, I’m ready to head to Cheyenne.” She shuttered her features and faced him. He stood right behind her. She hadn’t heard him move. The desperate drumming of her heart had masked the sound.

“This is your home, Audrey,” he quietly answered.

She clasped her hands together, her fingers pressing into the bones of her hands. “No, Julian. This is your home.”

“I gave it to you.” His tone was tight, like a drawn bowstring.

“I can’t stay here.”

“Why?”

“I have to make my own way in the world. Please understand.”

“I don’t understand. I told you I would provide for you.”

“Until when? When your wife wonders why you are supporting a woman and her children in Wyoming? Until you tire of an unending debt?”

“Until forever.”

“I can’t do it.”

He frowned, his endless brown eyes wounded. She looked away. “You aren’t thinking clearly,” he said. “Consider the children.”

“I am thinking of them. What does it teach them to have me accept your charity? That it’s acceptable to not do for yourself if you can find a benefactor? That is not a lesson I want the girls to learn. In Cheyenne, the boys can take jobs. The girls can help me. We can earn our way—legitimately.”

He shook his head. “That’s an unnecessarily hard life you would consign them to. You rob them of their childhood.”

“It’s reality. Our reality.” This wasn’t working. She thought he’d be pleased to be given an excuse to break things off with her, not try so hard to dissuade her. God help her, she had to cut deeper. “There’s another reason.”

His eyes narrowed. “At last, we get to the point of this discussion.”

She drew a shaky breath. This had to be convincing, but every word sliced her as it came up from her heart and out her mouth. “Our time is coming to an end, and I don’t want to be alone. You’ve introduced me to the world of sex, and I find I quite like it.”

His face went pale. “Is that what you think we share at night? Some empty exchange of carnal pleasures?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Will you spread your legs for any man now?”

“No.” She laughed. Where she found the strength to do so, she didn’t know. “Of course not. You’re a hard man to replace, Julian. Though I have no doubt, between my sewing and my bedroom skills, I will find what I’m looking for.”

His eyes flared. “Maybe I’m not ready to release you.” He moved forward. She backed away, frightened by the anger in his expression. Her knees hit the edge of the bed.

“All these nights, I’ve been so focused on being courteous, taking care to please you, when sex would have been good enough. You should have been clearer about what you wanted long ago. Bend over the bed.”

Audrey swallowed her fear. “Why?”

“Because we’re going to have sex.”

She looked at his bitter eyes, wondering how she had ever thought them soft or loving. He gripped her shoulders and turned her around, bending her over the mattress.

“Lift your nightgown,” he ordered.

She slowly did as he commanded, feeling the cool air on her legs. He held a hand on her shoulder, pushing her forward into the bed as he unfastened his pants. Then his knees separated hers and he entered her.

Audrey gasped, shocked. They’d never used this position. He penetrated her deeply. She could feel so much of him as he moved in her. The sensation was exquisite. She gripped the bedcover as her body’s response grew. She pushed back against his thrusts, seeking more. He took hold of her hips, controlling her, keeping her still as he possessed her. The restriction heightened her senses, yet the climax he usually brought her hovered just out of reach.

“Please—” a whispered plea broke from her lips. “Please, Julian, I need…I can’t…”

He groaned, but released his hold on her as he leaned over her body. “Touch yourself.”

She pushed against him, absorbing the shivers of pleasure spiraling through her body. “How?”

“Like this.” He took her hand, directing her fingers to her clitoris, moving them slowly firmly over her sensitive skin. He took hold of her hips again, pulling his cock from her slick warmth, then pushing in again. She gasped even as her sweet inner muscles grabbed at him. “Yes. God, yes. Like that.”

He thrust himself deeper. She bucked against him, her small muscles seizing him in an intense orgasm. He pumped harder, faster, grinding his teeth against the extreme pleasure. His hands tightened on her hips, holding her firmly against himself as he groaned with his release. Hot liquid seared into her.

He pulled free of her and adjusted his pants, then leaned over her. “That, Audrey Sheridan, was just sex.” She straightened and faced him. Her nightgown dropped into place, shielding her. He was breathing hard. His nostrils flared as he shook his head. “Perhaps you were right. If that’s all you’re after, you’ll have to find a replacement for me. I want none of it.”

She crossed her arms to keep herself from reaching for him. Even now, with him furious with her, she knew if she touched him, he would open to her. She knew he hadn’t intended to give her release in that coupling, but he’d relented, bringing her with him. He wasn’t capable of just having sex with her. She could almost believe he cared about her. But it wouldn’t last. Whatever he felt for her couldn’t withstand the test of time.

“You stayed in me.”

“I did,” he said between clenched teeth. “Do you think any man who’s only after a quick romp will care if he plants his babe in your belly?”

She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “I want you to leave. Now.” A minute passed. A muscle worked at the edges of his jaw. At last he turned on his heel and left her room. She climbed into her bed and drew the sheet up over her folded knees, listening to him pace in his room. After a while, she heard him go downstairs, then leave the house.

Lowering her head to her knees, she wondered whether her mother’s broken heart had felt like this before she died.