Just This Once (35 page)

“Imagine—what if I hadn’t picked your pocket
that day?” she mused. “We would never have met.”

“Want to bet? It was fate, destiny,
sweetheart—and you can’t escape your destiny.” He toyed with a
long, luscious strand of her hair. Early sun was gilding the
chestnut waves to a fire-tinged bronze.

“Funny thing is, I knew that day in Abilene
that something was up. Felt it in the saloon right before Latherby
walked in and told me about Hugh and my father. Didn’t know exactly
what was about to happen, but knew it was something big.”

He grinned as he wound the strand of hair
round and round his finger. “Truth is, I thought I was going to get
shot.”

“Shot!”

“Yep. Never was shot before. Strange that in
all those years I never caught a bullet. I’d been stabbed twice,
and knocked out cold more than once, dragged by a horse, chased by
a bear... but never shot. Was damned sure it would be that
night.”

His eyes gleamed at her, twin gray flames in
the handsomest face she’d ever seen. “But I reckon what had
happened was,” he continued slowly, “I
was
shot—that
afternoon in the alley. Shot not by a gun, but by an arrow.”

She raised her eyebrows, mystified.

“An arrow belonging to a pesky critter who
goes by the handle of Cupid.”

She grinned. The smile swept across her
entrancing face and lit her eyes with a light so incandescent, it
put the dawn to shame.

“Me too,” she whispered, and reaching up,
began to trace the firm lines of his jaw with her fingertip.

“It’s strange but you sound as if you’re
still that other man—Ethan Savage, the gunfighter,” she
whispered.

“I am.”

She nodded, and gazed down into his eyes
with instinctive understanding. “A part of you is still tied to the
West, to America. And missing it,” she added, sympathy spilling
through her heart.

“Those were good days, a good life.” His
face took on a faraway expression. “Riding through mountains high
enough to skim the stars, camping out in canyons so beautiful
they’d break your heart, sleeping under a full moon with the
coyotes howling in the distance. Or just watching the eagles circle
through that great big sky, or some wild horses coming down to
drink at a stream. But since I’ve come back—”

He stopped, then sat up, sliding her over
next to him, one arm stroking across her satiny shoulder.

“Never thought I’d say this or feel this,
but England has a hold on me too. It’s different this time. Feels
different. Maybe that’s because you’re here.”

A flush of pleasure swept through her,
turning her skin aglow.

“Josie, tell me something,” he said
suddenly. “Do you like it here?”

“I’m learning to like it. More than I ever
thought I would. Especially Stonecliff Park. Something about it...
the peace, the beauty. I feel...” She shook her head, wondering.
“At home. Strange, but I feel more at home here, and happier, than
any place I’ve ever lived before... even with Pop.”

“Could that be... dare I hope...” His eyes
gleamed into hers as he stroked her breasts and watched the violet
depths of her eyes sparkle and darken. “Could that have anything to
do with the company you’ve been keeping?”

“You mean Miss Perry? Oh, yes, she’s
so
pleasant and kind. And Lady Tattersall—I am certainly
fond of her... Ethan!” she shrieked as he threw her down among the
pillows, climbed atop her, and began to tickle her ribs.

“Ethan, stop!” she gasped, and his hands
stilled, but the dangerous glint still blazed in his eyes, and his
mouth was grinning wide with deviltry.

“Well?”

“Yes—yes. It has something to do with you—I
suppose!” She laughed, and then gave a shudder of pleasure as he
lowered himself full upon her and began to nuzzle the delicate
shell of her ear.

“It has... a great deal to do with you,”
Josie breathed.

And in the pearly light of morning found
herself in the delightful position of being sweetly, relentlessly,
helplessly ravished all over again.

A
molten sun sailed
through the summer blue sky as Josie’s footman helped her alight
from the carriage in Belgrave Square. No breeze disturbed the heavy
green leaves of the trees. The street was quiet, elegant. Trees
shaded the walk, and there were lovely rhododendrons clustered
behind the fence that boundaried the garden.

She stared up at the imposing house before
her, her heart lurching into her throat.

During the drive to the address Lady
Cartwright had given her last night, Josie had gone through myriad
emotions: excitement, trepidation, hope, and fear of disappointment
being the most prominent. But now as she gazed upward at the
handsome house with its elegant portico and large bay windows, it
was hope that made her hands tremble.

Perhaps my luck is finally changing. I found
Ethan and he loves me. He loves me! And perhaps now I’ll find out
who I am and where I came from.

“Should I wait, my lady?”

“Yes, walk the horses, Rupert. I don’t
expect to be long.”

In truth, she didn’t know what to expect.
What if no one was at home? she wondered nervously as she went up
the steps. What if they refused to see her. What if... what if...
what if...

The door was opened by an immensely tall
footman.

“Yes, ma’am?” he asked, deferentially,
taking in her fashionable gown of Prussian blue silk with its smart
lace train, and her pink hat and parasol.

She presented the small gilt calling card
Ethan had ordered made up for her. “I should like to see Miss
Denby,” she said with all the quiet dignity she could summon
through the waves of nervousness that washed over her.

She held her breath, half expecting to be
told that no one by that name lived there, that Miss Denby did not
even exist, even though Lady Cartwright herself had known her!

“Kindly wait in the morning room, my lady. I
will inform Miss Denby that you are here.”

She paced and paced about the morning room,
her heart beating uncomfortably fast. In her little silk handbag
was the pouch with her brooch and her treasure—or more properly,
Miss Denby’s treasure. If nothing else, she could now return
it.

But how in the world would she explain how
she came to possess what the stagecoach robbers had taken from Miss
Denby?

Josie bit her lip and strode to the polished
marble fireplace, then paced to the window, staring out at the
clipped yews and rhododendrons without really seeing them. The
lovely blue and green room receded and she was alone with the
overwhelming enormity of this step she had taken. What if Miss
Denby was as hateful and superior as Miss Crenshaw, and drilled her
with questions, the answers to which could be humiliating for
her—and for Ethan.

Oh, why hadn’t she waited until she could
discuss this with Ethan and could consider his advice? Why had she
been so hasty, after having searched and waited all this time?

Ethan had been called away on business early
this morning—he was interested in becoming involved in Parliament
and had been invited to a meeting with several influential lords.
Josie had been soaking in the bathtub when he came to find her.
She’d scarcely had time to do more than sputter a surprised
good-bye and give him a soul-tingling kiss before he’d strode out,
whistling, and she was alone, with no opportunity to tell him about
the jewels she’d been keeping hidden, her hopes about Miss Denby,
or her intention to find and question her today.

When you come home this afternoon and find
him, you’ll both sit down to tea, side by side upon the sofa. And
you’ll hand him one of Mrs. Chupp’s delicious savories and you’ll
tell him then, you’ll tell him everything. And maybe you’ll even
have some answers. Maybe you’ll even know who you are.

Not that it would matter to Ethan. The
wonderful thing was that he loved her for who she was—herself. She
couldn’t see that changing, no matter what she learned today.

But this did matter to her—the prospect of
finally
knowing
. It mattered a great deal.

The sound of the door opening had her
whirling around, eager and afraid all at once.

She went very still when she saw the girl
hesitating on the threshold.

The girl was perhaps two or three years
older than she, and taller by several inches. Like a pale flower
stalk, Josie thought. She looked delicate and shy. Clad in a simple
olive-green tea gown, she had a narrow figure, and gold curls
lighter than sunshine. Her eyes were of a soft porcelain blue set
within a pretty, sensitive-looking face.

Those blue eyes were fixed upon Josie with
something close to wonder.

She came into the morning room slowly and
paused, her head tilted to one side as she studied her guest.

“Do I know y-you, Lady Stonecliff?” she
asked softly, the glimmer of a shy smile on her lips.

“No, Miss Denby, we’ve never met.” Josie
hoped her own smile would put the other girl at ease. Miss Denby
seemed timid as a mouse! Though her manner was friendly, it seemed
as if she wasn’t used to receiving company.

“Lady Cartwright is a friend of mine. She
told me how to find you.”

“How to find me?” Surprise rounded Miss
Denby’s long-lashed eyes. With a start, Josie noticed their
shape—they were uptilted at the corners. “I’m s-sorry.” She sounded
flustered, and threw Josie a look of quiet dismay. “I don’t mean to
be rude, but I don’t get much company. I don’t go out into society
very much—” She blushed richly. “Please won’t you be seated,” she
said with a slight shake of her head, and indicated with a small,
graceful gesture the yellow sofa opposite the window. “And t-tell
me what I can do for you.”

“My question might sound odd, but...” Josie
took a deep breath and plunged on. “Were you held up by outlaws
some months ago on a stagecoach in America?” she blurted out,
suddenly too excited for slow, polite explanations.

Miss Denby, who had just seated herself in a
wing chair, gripped the arms. “How did you know that?”

“Because... oh, damn it, I mean, drat it,
I... I think I have your jewels. Do these belong to you?”

And Josie unclasped her handbag, drew out
the pouch with shaking fingers, and dipped her hand inside. When
she pulled out the opal-and-pearl ring, the bracelet, and the
precious scrap of letter, the fair-haired girl gaped at them.

“Yes. Those are mine!” A smile of joy lit
her face. She stared in rapt amazement at the ring, unable to tear
her gaze from it. “Oh, but this is w-wonderful. How kind you are to
return them! How did this come about? Did the sheriff catch those
men and... no, no, that isn’t it, is it? It c-couldn’t be. He would
hardly have sent you—”

“I found them. I mean, the outlaws had them
and I... I stole them back for you.” The irrepressible grin
sparkled across Josie’s face. Her heart was suddenly full of a
light, fluttering hope. The words poured out in a torrent.

“When I saw a painting of your mother last
night at Lady Cartwright’s home, I noticed the brooch she wore.
It’s almost identical in design to this ring.”

“Yes, they’re from the same set.”

Josie felt a rising excitement. “That’s what
I guessed. I’ve been looking for you so that I could return the
ring, and I asked Lady Cartwright the name of the lady in the
painting. When she told me, she said your mother was her cousin.
And when I mentioned I was looking for a Miss Denby she told me
about you....”

She drew breath, then her voice dropped
lower with contained excitement.

“I have something else to show you, Miss
Denby.” She drew out the brooch. Now that the moment had come, she
felt unexpectedly calm. Except for the seesawing of her
stomach.

“This brooch. It looks the same as the one
in the portrait. The one your mother was wearing. But... it’s
mine.”

She halted at the stunned expression that
had come over Miss Denby’s face. The girl looked as if she’d been
dunked in a vat of ice water.

“Miss Denby?” Josie jumped up, still
clutching the brooch and her handbag. “Are you all right?”

“Y-you... you... Where d-did you get that
brooch?”

“I’m an orphan. The woman who ran the
orphanage where I spent my first years told me this brooch was
pinned to my swaddling clothes on the day I was found.”

Alicia Denby looked as if she would swoon.
She was staring at Josie with wide, glazed eyes. She came to her
feet, swaying a little.

“Dear God. It’s you. You’re her.” She gazed
in shock from Josie’s face back to the brooch, and then gazed
frantically back at her guest again, scrutinizing her with swift,
desperate intensity.

Her entire body began to shake. Then she
darted forward so suddenly, Josie stiffened. Alicia Denby clutched
her arm with trembling fingers.