“Youwhat?” She gaped at him. Her face paled. “My father’s getting ready to make the announcement.”
“I know.” A sigh rattled through him. “That’s why I had to speak with you.” Sweat dampened his linen shirt sleeves. He didn’t want to hurt her.
Her hazel eyes flashed at him. She jabbed a hand to her hip. “You spoke to me the other night when you proposed. You asked, and I said yes.”
More like, he’d asked after a thousand hints. With her curled up beside him on the horsehair sofa, practically in his lap. “I’m not reneging on the proposal, but I need to delay the official betrothal.”
The mournful notes of “Lorena” carried on the breeze.
“Why?” She lifted her chin. “Not ready to give up bachelorhood?” A slippery smile wove its way across her lips. “Well, I can fix that.” She slid her hands inside his black wool frock coat and smoothed them over the gray silk of his waistcoat, scattering his heartbeat. “Just like I did the other night.”
Thank goodness, he’d cut their sofa time short, or she’d be here telling him he was obligated to marry her. “I have to go to Texas.”
Her hands fell away. “You’ve got to be joking.”
He stepped back. Best stay clear of her skirt folds and every other part of her. “No. I’ve told you many times?—”
“Have you had your medicine?” Her brow deepened into a ridge above her slender nose.
She might as well have slapped him.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you’re sometimes a bit disagreeable when you’ve been too long between doses.” She shrugged her bare shoulders.
If only he could throw that despicable bottle on the floor at her feet and shatter it with his boot. “My medicine has nothing to do with this. I have unfulfilled obligations. I promised Jeb?—”
She snorted. Her pearl earrings jiggled. “Not Jeb Scott again. We’ve been over this. I’m sorry your friend didn’t survive the prison camp, and I’m thankful he helped you come back to us alive. But I’m not going to let a dead man hold up my wedding. The war is over. You did everything you could?—”
“All I’ve done is post a few flimsy pieces of paper.”
“Two letters. And never a word back from that man’s kin. Even after you offered to send a bank draft. It’s not your fault if they’re dead, illiterate, or too rebellious to communicate with a Yankee.”
“Lieutenant Scott saved my life.” He stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. “And I’m going to honor my word to him. I’m going to make sure his mother and sister are taken care of.”
“Hire a Pinkerton man, for goodness’ sakes. Your father has the money. Send a couple hundred with the man in case he finds the family in great need, and tell him to convey to them it’s all they’ll get. You don’t want them trying to weasel more out of you a year down the road.”
He glared at her.
“What?” She arched her eyebrows and tugged her white cotton gloves on tighter. “It’s taken a year for you to regain your health. I won’t have you throwing it away on some foolhardy tripyou can hire someone else to make. Personally, in my humble opinion, you’ve done more than enough.”
Humble? Not hardly. She could be kind, going to visit the soldiers’ hospital with baskets as part of her weekly routine. She could be spontaneous and unpredictable, ready to go for a ride in the country or a row on the Delaware River at a moment’s notice, then spend the next day dragging him on a day-long shopping trip to find just the right hat. She was many things, but humble was not one of them. “It’s not your call, Olivia. And I’m not an invalid. I’m perfectly capable of fulfilling my commitments.”
Her gaze hardened to a glare. “Doesn’t sound like it to me. You’re talking about postponing our engagement. Our wedding…” She sputtered. “I’ve waited for you. Three years. Don’t you think I had other fine officers home on furlough chomping at the bit to court me?” She thudded her fingers against his chest. “You’ve got another thought coming, Ben McKenzie, if you think I’m going to allow you to wiggle out of your promise to me. Everyone in that room is expecting the announcement tonight. And you’re not going to disappoint them.”
That defiant set of her chin drove into him like a needle. His voice hardened. “I’m going to Texas. I’m not taking back my proposal. Just delaying the announcement. Three months. Six months at the most.”
Fiery hazel eyes glared into his. “My father makes the announcement tonight, or there is no engagement. Period.”
He scrubbed his hand over his jaw.
“And in case you’ve forgotten what you’d be missing…” She grabbed his lapels and jerked him close, her bosom pressed against his chest. “Let me remind you.” She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and drew his head down to hers.
A heavy floral scent, some fine French perfume he couldn’t name, overwhelmed his senses as their lips met in a hot, angrykiss. Desire sparked and entwined with the gnawing need for his medicine. His arms tightened around her as a groan escaped his throat. But love? He could barely remember what that felt like. Maybe the laudanum had dulled his heart, or was it Andersonville that had done the trick?
His silk waistcoat wadded in her fingers, she broke the kiss. “See?” Her eyes glistened with victory. “You’re not going anywhere.”
He pushed free and swallowed hard. It’d be so easy to stay. Walk in there. Please her family and his. Send another letter or a Pinkerton man. The path of least resistance. There were no guarantees anyone in Texas needed his help. How many weeks of travel was that, anyway? Train, stagecoach, and horseback to reach western Texas. Maybe even hostile Indians.
