Mobley's Law, A Mobley Meadows Novel (27 page)

CHAPTER 40

Dixie Potts made a great show of entertaining Edson and walking him about the enormous house. She introduced him personally to several state legislators, a state judge, and a banker from New Orleans who had come to Texas to check on several of his investments. After an hour of mindless patter and chatter, they ended up in a large upstairs bedroom containing a huge four poster bed and several pieces of highly polished French furniture.

“This was Sam Houston’s bed,” Dixie said quietly as she carefully closed the door. “I don’t suppose you’d like to try it out?”

Edson looked nervously around. He tried to edge away from Dixie, who was slowly maneuvering him up against the wall.

“No? Well, that is a disappointment,” she whispered, her soft breath warming his ear. “What exactly are we going to do about you, good lookin’? I had no idea who you were this morning when we met. Now you know one of my most important secrets.”

“Uh, what secret is that, ma’am?”

Dixie smiled up at him. Her hand began to stroke his left thigh. “Why, the one about me and Mary Sue and the room above the boutique.”

She lowered her voice to a husky moan as she pressed against his chest. “I am a totally depraved woman, you know. I have been since my teens. They have names for women like me. Sluts; harlots; women of low character and values; prurient morals. That’s what they say. But until now, I have been very discreet, if not brazen. No one has ever found me out. My partners have always been carefully chosen. You were an aberration, accepted in a moment of blind, wonderful passion.”

“But, ma’am—.” Edson squirmed as Dixie nibbled on his earlobe, ran her tongue around its rim and moved her hand to a more central location. “You don’t think I would ever tell, do you?”

“I don’t know, would you?” She licked his nose gently and pursed her lips.

“Perhaps—I could be bribed?” Edson said raggedly.

“Now, that’s a better attitude.” Dixie was now breathless. Her chest and neck began to redden and her voice became lower. “I have something I want to give you. But it’s also for me. I want your beautiful body close to mine. I want you in me, on me, all over me—
now
.”

“My God.” Edson looked around the room. “We can’t do it here. There are people all over this place. Someone could walk in on us.”

“No they won’t,” Dixie gasped. “No one is interested in this old room. Besides, it’s the risk that makes it worthwhile.”

“I thought you said you were always careful? Is this what you meant?”

“Shut up.”

Dixie began to ease Edson around so her back was against the door. She released him from his new pants, hurriedly lifted her lavender dress and petticoats, and hoisted herself up to wrap her legs around his waist. It was a short, powerful, almost violent encounter.

Edson slowly eased Dixie down to the floor, her legs limp, barely able to hold her diminutive weight. Within a few minutes, her breathing returned to normal. “Thank you, Edson. That was—more than incredible.”

She turned and walked carefully to the dresser mirror, straightened her hair and dress, watched as Edson adjusted himself and his suit. After a short pause, she turned. “Now, if you find yourself unable to keep silent, I want you to come to me. We’ll work it out. I’m sure you understand that as Yancy Pott’s wife, there might be a great deal I could do for you.”

Edson nodded. “I have no need of your help and I would never turn on you. That is not my way. I help women, I do not hurt them. That is my obligation and my promise.”

He had no intention of ever holding this lady up, no matter what the circumstance. But if making a promise would make her feel more secure, he would give it to her. He walked over to the large window next to the bed and looked out on the City of Austin.

“My grandfather once told me I have a gift. A gift for understanding and caring about women. He told me it was my destiny and duty to be kind to all women, to satisfy them when I could and protect them from anyone who would do them harm. I think I understand how you feel. You think you’re different because the needs of your body dominate your thoughts, but you’re really not. I’ve known many women in my life who need more than they get. What I find interesting about you is that you don’t seem to care about getting caught. It’s difficult for me to understand. In your world the consequences could be so great.”

He turned and walked away from the window. “Your husband, Yancy … is not a good man. There is something about him that is different. He will hurt you if you cause him grief.”

Edson paused. Dixie was looking at him in awe. “He will hurt you just like he and Governor Davis have been trying to hurt Judge Meadows.”

Dixie’s jaw tightened. She looked at him with anger in her eyes. “He wouldn’t
dare
hurt me. He knows I know about him, about his
boyfriends
.” Her eyes began to shine with wetness. “He doesn’t want me and he doesn’t need me, but he wouldn’t ever hurt me. I would destroy him.”

Edson stared deeply into Dixie’s eyes. She turned on her heel and walked to the door. “Come, Edson. We must return to the party. People might talk if we’re gone too long.”

Edson nodded and walked out the door with Dixie casually holding onto his arm. As they arrived at the reception room, the party was going full swing. Several ladies spotted Edson and immediately headed for him. Dixie laughed, leaned close and whispered. “Here come the rest of the sharks, looking for scraps.” Somewhat louder, for public consumption, “I must go now, Deputy Rabb. It has been most interesting talking to you. Perhaps we will meet again sometime.”

Edson bowed slightly from the waist. “Thank you, ma’am. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to meet such a lovely lady. Good night.”

CHAPTER 41

Lydia introduced Mobley to several people she knew at the party. They mingled interminably, he telling stories and becoming flushed as she occasionally rubbed against him. He felt better now, the pain in his chest mostly gone. The ache in his heart, the uncertainty, remained. For the first time in his life, he simply did not know what to do.

That fact, coupled with a growing realization that many of the people at the party considered him an aberration, a gangly hillbilly to be gawked at and pitied, left him feeling cold. Lydia seemed to sense his mood. She maneuvered him onto a terrace porch where they could look over the city. A scent of lilac, mixed with magnolia blossom drifted by as they looked out upon the twinkling gas lamps now lighting the streets. She leaned against him. He liked it, but remained anxious.

“I notice the Governor has not seen fit to involve you in any of his great pontifications tonight. That’s rather strange, don’t you think? It’s like he wants you to know him, but not get too close. He’s acting like you might upstage him.”

“You could be right, Lydia. I’ve not been unaware of his lack of attention, but frankly, I could care less. The man crawled out from under a rock somewhere. I’d like to help him get back, and I think he senses my feelings. He didn’t get this far by being stupid or blind.”

“Well, I still don’t know why you all seem so mistrustful of Governor Davis, but you do seem to be feeling better. Are you having fun? I’ll bet it’s been a long time since you’ve seen a home as nice as this?”

“Fun? I don’t know.” He tried not to, but found his arm reaching out, coming to rest around her waist. He feared it a brazen thing to do in public, but could not let go. She snuggled against him. “It’s only been a couple of months since I was home in Tennessee layin’ about my grandfather’s plantation. That house is almost twice the size of this one, if you can believe it. Old Colonel Angus Meadows has more money than all the kings in Europe. At least it seems that way.”

“Is that right? You certainly don’t play the role of a rich man. Oh, you have the manners of a gentleman all right, but I would have never guessed you were from uppity people.”

Mobley squirmed. “I’m not rich. My grandfather is. The rest of the family, including me, will be rich after he dies. By the time I see any family money, I’m likely to be old and gray. But, not to worry, I’m not likely to starve anytime soon. This job pays a fair wage and most of my expenses can be recouped as part of the costs of court. If I needed money, I’m sure all I would have to do is ask old Angus, but it’s a matter of pride with me not to do so. He made his, I’ll make mine. As far as being uppity, that’s an affliction an ol’ boy like me, bein’ from the back woods and all, ain’t ever likely to suffer.”

“I’m quite sure of that,” she said as she rested her head on his shoulder. “I have been wondering, though, if you are just naturally afraid of women or suffer from some other sort of malady?”

He stiffened. “
Malady
? What kind of malady do you think I might be suffering?”

“Maybe—an injury in the war? You know, like a serious wound that renders you incapable of liking women?”

“
Good grief
. What on earth could have given you that idea? Besides, I never served in the ground war. I served on merchant vessels.”

“Well,” she said softly as she pressed against him. “We’ve been together now for several weeks. Though you’ve been pretty sick, you must have noticed my feelings for you have grown. I was just wondering. We do live in the same hotel suite, after all, and you’ve made no move to advance the relationship.”

Pausing to let the comment sink in, she added, “I’m not an unmarried virgin. So, what do I have to do, parade around like a vixen to get your attention?”

Mobley felt his eyes widen. He tried to pull back. She held on. “
Certainly not
. You’re a lady. Ladies don’t
parade
themselves around.” He looked out at the lights of the city, then over the top of her head. When he looked back down, his gaze fell on her breasts. She held him at the waist, both arms hugging him close, pressing with her hips.
Oh, God
. He surged against her. She pulled forward, responding to his body’s traitorous, uncontrolled reaction. She layed her head on his chest. He snuggled his nose into her hair, overcome by her scent.
Roses in springtime
.

Memories came back. His emotions had been doing back flips. He’d been concerned about Edson and Jack, their campaign against Ferdie Lance, most of all about protecting Lydia from any harm that might befall her from being too close to him. He’d thought several times of going to her room, but decided against it for reasons he could not fathom or express. Somewhere deep, he knew he must not give in.

Lydia was a fine woman, the kind of woman he’d always dreamed of. Tough, intelligent, resourceful. But she was still a woman in a man’s world, vulnerable and innocent. She just didn’t realize how dangerous the situation was.

The closer they had become, the less he’d been able to think. She’d dominated his every thought, his emotions. He should have been working with Jack and Edson, figuring things out. Instead, he’d moped about the hotel, drank too much, worried that Ferdie Lance might jump out of the bushes and cause her harm. He’d become obsessed with protecting her.

In the end, he’d concluded it was hopeless. He was not good enough for her. It would be best if she would return to Waco, as far away from him as possible. But he couldn’t keep his mind from picturing her, loving her.

“Well, are you going to talk to me or gawk at your feet?”

Mobley lifted his face. Lydia looked up at him, her eyes glowing emerald, and sparkling mischievously. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back. “Lydia, I don’t know what to do. You’re a fine lady. I don’t deserve you. I’m just a hillbilly who managed to weasel his way into a good job. Now people are trying to kill me. If you stay around me you’ll likely be killed too. I couldn’t take that. You need a husband, not an uncouth backwoods judge who would be gone most of the time, unable to protect you. It wouldn’t be right.”

He could see Lydia getting red in the face and thought for a moment she was going to cry. Then he recognized she was angry, furious. She stepped back and whacked him hard on the arm.

“Damn you
. You men are all alike. Why don’t you stop playing games? I don’t need your protection. Women don’t
need
constant protection. Protecting women is just another ploy used to justify denying women an equal place in this world. Men have protected me near to death with their rules. They say I can’t work at the only profession I know, because it wouldn’t be right to encourage a woman to step out of her role as wife and mother.

What right do they have, making decisions like that for me? They’re keeping me down and patting themselves on the back for doing it. They say they are protecting me. Well,
horse pucky!
All they’re really doing is protecting their own territory.

If we ever did get married, you’d probably want to keep me locked away, like George tried to do. Barefoot and pregnant. If he’d had his way, I would have been hidden in the attic unable to associate with anyone. All because he was jealous. He said he wanted to protect me, but what he really wanted was to protect his
property
, that’s all.”

Now Lydia was crying. Several upper-crust women were startled at her outburst. She wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders, turned and walked a few steps away. She stopped, turned back, anger and determination in her voice. “I’m going back to Waco. If you decide to accept me as an equal, come see me. Until then, you can go jump in the creek.”

Mobley was near panic. He wanted to reach out, stop her from leaving, but could not. He hung his head and stared at a glass of champagne sitting on the railing, abandoned by some other guest. He turned to face the grounds, picked up the glass and threw it as far as he could.

Yancy Potts stood outside the door to the terrace as Lydia Sweetgrass hurried out. He smiled inwardly, his mind working rapidly. Judge Meadows was hurt, vulnerable. Now was the time to act. Yancy turned. Tom Dooley of
The Austin Telegraph
was across the room, engaged in animated conversation with the governor.