To Seduce a Rogue (37 page)

“Is it because he’s a worldly man? Those letters he received this summer. Mercy, they were scented of all things.”

Charlie’s smile widened. She could see it reflected in glass.

“I’m not in love with her,” Chase had told her the night of his dinner party, as they lay in bed—naked, drowsy, sated.

“I know that. I know you.” And she did; nonetheless it felt good to hear him say it. Somewhat surprising he felt he needed to
.

His only reply had been a grunt and a kiss to the top of her head. Then he’d whispered, “Too well, I think.”

Charlie shook her head to clear the memory. “It’s unjust of you to blame him. Those letters” —she laughed and streaked her knuckles across the window— “have nothing to do with this. She has nothing to do with this.”

“Are you sure?”

Charlie laughed, knowing this would shock her conventional friend. “Of course I’m sure. I met her.”

“Met her?”

“She was very nice. Pretty, too.”

“But she, she and Adam...they....”

Charlie lifted her hand from the glass and idly circled to face her friend. “I know him. Better than anyone will ever know him. Except for his mother and his brother, who are dead. And for that he has no peace.” She steepled her fingers beneath her chin. “He was honest about the limitations of any relationship we might have, Kath. I didn’t want any more than he did. I
agreed
with him.”

“Do you still agree?”

No. She did not. The day she’d seen Taber in his stall in Richmond had affected her like a bolt of lightning on a clear day. Finally, it occurred to her that leaving terminated any connection between them—except for a few faded memories. He would not be there to help her repair her fence; or stand behind her, squeezing her shoulders as he encouraged her to write; or hold her, stroking her skin with nimble fingers when she was tired or lonely. Or aroused.

Already, she missed those things. So much that she filtered the world through glass as dirty as the
Sentinel’s
window most days.

A wagon arrived outside. Charlie turned. Miles. Good. This subject drained her.

“We’re taking you home.”

“Kath—”

“Enough of this. Walking home in the dark! Gerald should be here with you.”

“Gerald is not my chaperone, dammit.” Mrs. Peters had been enough to last a lifetime.

“When did you start cursing so often. Just like—” Kath pursed her lips and walked quickly to the door. “I’m not leaving you here.” She pulled it open and perched against the side, waiting.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Charlie stalked to her desk and grabbed a stack of papers. “This is only because you’re pregnant, Katherine Lambert. I just don’t want to be the one to upset you. I’ll let Miles do that.”

“Yes, dear, whatever you say.”

* * *

“I don’t know about this. It’s interfering, it is.” Miles slid into bed and pulled the covers up.

“If you’d talked with her today, you would know some interference is needed. I don’t mind doing it.”

“Well, I do,” he said as he wrapped his arm around her.

“I need you help.”

“Now—”

“It’s just one little letter. Simple. Honest. What harm can that do?”

“One simple, honest, manipulating letter.”

“Oh, Miles. Where is your sense of romance?”

He grinned and pulled her hand beneath the covers. “I’ll help you find my sense of romance.”

She laughed as he pulled her on top of him.

The letter could wait until tomorrow.

* * *

Charlie scrubbed her hands on a rag and emerged from the shelter of trees next to the stream. She drew a deep breath. Woodsmoke was heavy in the air, the smell of winter upon them. She pulled to an abrupt standstill as she spotted her cousin on the porch.

Lila waved and smiled.

Charlie released a sigh and advanced forward, rubbing a spot of dirt from her palm. Her boots crushed leaves and pine straw, the only sound aside from a distant bird’s call. She paused on the bottom step as Lila came forward with outstretched hands.

“Charlotte, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Lila. How are you?” It surprised Charlie that her cousin wasn’t fretting about her trousers. Other than a brief glance, Lila seemed unconcerned.

After a moment, Lila dropped her hands. “I’m doing quite well, thank you for asking.” She gestured to the door. “May I come inside? I wanted to talk with you.”

Charlie nodded and climbed the steps.

“What are
these
?”

Charlie picked up one of the honey-colored shells Lila pointed to. “They’re locust skins. You know, they leave them sticking in the tree bark when they shed.”

“Why in the world are you saving
those
?”

Charlie turned the shell in her hand. “I don’t know. I like them.”

Lila grimaced and promptly stepped inside.

Charlie followed after shoving aside a strong urge to stick one of them in her cousin’s hair.

Lila slid her hand over the mantle, then flicked her fingers and dust drifted to the floor. “I guess you’re wondering why I’m here. We haven’t been friendly for a long time, have we?”

“Not too friendly since we were, oh” —Charlie tilted her head as if she were tallying a figure— “seven or eight years old.”

Lila giggled. A distinctly nervous giggle. “Surely, it hasn’t been that long.”

It had been
that
long.

When Charlie made no effort to comment, Lila’s face flushed. “Charlotte, I wanted to tell you. Be the first to tell you that...” She twisted her hand in her skirt. “I’m going to marry Tom Walker.”

The rag in Charlie’s hand slipped to the floor.

Lila’s gaze jumped to the cloth. Her tongue whisked across her lips. “I’m marrying Tom Walker.”

Charlie snatched the rag up. “Why?”

“What do you mean why? I’m pretty and...and my father’s arranged a nice dowry. Tom will have an even better future, working at the bank.”

Charlie pulled a chair from the table. Finding this all very strange, but knowing she had to say something, she said, “I’m happy for you, Lila.” She walked into the kitchen and poured two glasses of tea. “Sit. Quit acting like a tense fox.”

“I’m not tense.” Lila didn’t argue with sitting, though.

Charlie set the glasses on the table and settled across from her cousin. “Why tell me in person?”

Once again, Lila’s gaze danced away. She drummed her fingers on the table. “Because Tom loved you. Or thought he did. He told me so. And
I
wanted to tell you that, that he loves me now.”

Charlie stared at her, wondering why she felt such pity for this woman. Her cousin was beautiful, and she would never have to worry about having enough money to buy food or material for clothing.

Charlie had spent the last two weeks preserving vegetables and fruit, in hopes of having enough for the winter. When Lila showed up today, she’d been at the stream, submerging the last of her butter in the chilled water. Next week, she and Kath were salting meat and storing their remaining vegetables in the Lambert’s root cellar. So much to do just to survive. While Lila had never had to lift a finger, had never wanted for anything her whole life.

And Charlie felt sorry for
her
? Yes. She did. With all her heart. She would never,
ever
want to trade places with Lila Dane.

“Mrs. Peters said your trip to Richmond was very pleasant.”

Charlie blinked. “I’m sorry?”

Lila drew a circle on the table with her glass. “Mrs. Peters said your trip to Richmond was pleasant.”

“It was.” She wondered what else Mrs. Peters had said.

“Tom loves me, Charlotte. We have a very special relationship.”

“I’m happy for you, Lila.”

Her cousin scooted her chair as close as she could to the table and peered into Charlie’s face. She tilted her head to the side, like a dog, obviously trying to see if Charlie was telling the truth.

Charlie contained the laughter that threatened. “I never loved Tom, and I’m glad he’s found someone. What he felt for me was simply a childhood infatuation, nothing more.”

“An
in
what?”

She did laugh then. “A crush, Lila. Just a silly little trifle.”

Lila sat back in her chair. “Of course, I
knew
that. I just thought I should tell you because you might be upset.”

Finally, the pearl in the oyster.

“I mean, coming back from Richmond
alone
. We all expected, the town I mean, expected him to come back, too.”

“Well, as you can see, he didn’t.”

Lila casually brushed a lock of hair from her brow. “That’s not a surprise, you see. He told me before he left that he didn’t want any woman here. Liked those big city women better. No morals, is what I suspect.” She shrugged her shoulders in accordance with a swift shake of her head. “You’re better off without that, I say.”

What a bitch Lila was. Interesting, too, that it had taken her all these months—and the procurement of a fiancé—to secure the nerve to hound Charlie for what she believed was the theft of Adam Chase. Thank goodness her cousin was not a surprise any longer.

Charlie glanced out the window. “It’s getting late. I know you have to be running along. You brought your carriage, didn’t you?”

Lila stood with great dignity and shook out her full skirt. “Yes, of course.”

“Please tell Tom I said congratulations.”

Lila squinted again, then her face cleared. “I will, Charlotte. We’re having a large wedding. I’ll let you know when I set the date.”

Charlie practically pushed Lila through the door. “Good night. It was nice of you to stop by.” She closed the door as soon as Lila’s skirt cleared the threshold.

She walked to the table, pushed Lila’s chair in and took the glasses to the dry sink. The laughter bubbled from deep in her throat and she bent over, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

Lila and Tom?

The image of an angry hen frantically chasing a timid rooster came to mind. Charlie gasped as she slid to the floor. Leaning back against the stove, she covered her face with her hands. This was the first time in two months that she’d laughed.
Really laughed
.

It felt good.

Lila and Tom? Tom and Lila?

What strange happenings there were in her world.

Desolation

Devastation; ruin.

Adam pressed his back against the wooden crates. As the men walked by, he prayed the darkness concealed him.

Goddammit. He had not imagined they would walk this way.

“We meet at Shockoe Creek tomorrow morning,” one man said, his words distorted by a thick German accent.

The other merely grunted in reply.

Adam released a breath as the warehouse door slammed behind them. He pushed off the crates and ran straight into a tall, muscular obstacle.