“Oh, but I do imagine.”
“I want to go?—”
“To Mayfair? You were on your way to the estate, right?”
“At the moment I simply want to return to civilization!”
“There is no real ‘civilization’ here, Lady Douglas.”
“Civilization could simply be where you are not!” Skylar flared.
He offered her one of his mocking smiles. “You were on your way to Lord Douglas’s property. You are on Douglas property. This hunting lodge is mine. Since I will not be here for a while, you may consider yourself in civilization—and at the end of your journey. Enjoy civilization—as I’ve said, I’ll be back.”
She stood where she was, staring at him with her jaw locked until he drew more clothing from the trunk at the foot of the bed. She burned with a raw fury unlike anything she had known before. He’d made a fool out of her. He didn’t know her, didn’t know anything about her or what had happened, and he’d labeled her an adventuress—and worse. A murderess. He’d faked a savage attack on her. He’d taken it as far as he possibly might have gone. She hated him. Loathed him. Wanted to shoot an arrow between his eyes and take up scalping herself.
Not glancing her way, heedless that she remained in the robe, he shed his own robe and donned buckskin trousers. She felt her cheeks go afire, and she quickly turned away, her shoulders squared. She tried very hard to control her seething temper. “How long am I to wait here?”
“Until I find out from an attorney if this marriage license is legal.”
“Oh, it is legal,” she grated, keeping her back turned to him. “But?—”
“We’ll see what is and isn’t legal. There’s food here. You’ve the coffee—and the whiskey. I’ll call Wolf to watch over you?—”
“Wolf? Another of your cohorts in the stagecoach holdup?” she demanded, swinging around to look at him again. He was in dark buckskin trousers, high black boots, and a fringed buckskin shirt. His hair was plaited back. He was extremely tall and well built, striking in his appearance, and still entirely forbidding. He might have appeared white, except…that he didn’t. There was something far too savage remaining in the glint of his stare upon her.
“Wolf is my dog. And yes, he is part wolf, thus the name. He’ll protect you—or chew you to ribbons if you choose to leave the lodge. Perhaps you should get some sleep. I’ll be back tomorrow before evening.” He turned, about to leave her. “Domake yourself at home. As I’ve said, it is Douglas property that you’re on now.”
“Wait—” she began, but he was gone. The door was closed behind him. She clutched the robe to her, biting into her lower lip, and raced after him, ready to throw open the door.
But she heard him say, “Good boy, stay! Keep an eye on her, now. She’s dangerous!” Then excited barking. She stepped back. It didn’t seem prudent to open the door.
She leaned against the door, staring straight ahead, seeing nothing. She started shaking again.
She wasn’t going to be murdered and scalped by an Indian. At least she didn’t think so. He had a horrible temper and didn’t seem to be afraid of the consequences for any of his actions, but he wasn’t a complete savage.
She sank down against the door, shaking her head. She’d never meant to trick anyone. She hadn’t married Lord Douglas for gain.
Apparently, she hadn’t married the man she’d met at all. She’d married his son.
The trick had been on her.
She buried her face in her hands, trembling, then stared up at the ceiling, as if she could see God.
“Why?” she whispered, glad that the green-eyed savage wasn’t around to hear the whimpering sound of her voice. She didn’t deserve this.
She’d married to escape.
What in God’s name was she going to do now? What kind of cruel hoax had they all played upon one another? Just when she had thought that life had finally given her a way…
She shouldn’t have done it.
She had never meant any harm. Pike’s place had always been her escape. It was a small inn, but it had been in business since Revolutionary times, established by Pike’s great-grandfather.The present Pike had been her father’s very good friend. A number of Baltimore matrons and their daughters came to Pike’s for an occasional luncheon, and since it was considered such a respectable establishment, she’s had little trouble claiming to her mother that she went to Pike’s to meet friends. Lord Douglas had been a visitor over the years—it was quite the fashionable place for wealthy out-of-towners to frequent as well. Pike had pointed him out to her before as an eccentric Englishman living on the frontier who came east on occasion to see to his banking concerns. She had spoken with him politely in the past. But this time she had been there when he had so nearly collapsed. She had been the one to catch him, to insist on calling the doctor. And she would never forget the way that he had told her after he’d seen the doctor that there was little that could be done for him. But it was their secret, please.
He’d been so gentle, kind, dignified, fascinating. She’d realized she was the only one in the world who was aware of how ill he had become. She’d begun to open up to him in turn, telling him things she had never told anyone before. In a matter of days, she’d felt as if he’d been her best friend all of her life. He’d understood the gravity of her situation, the trickiness of it, and had suggested that she come with him. But she couldn’t just leave. She didn’t dare.
Then had come the night when she hadn’t dared go home.
And he had offered her a way out. She had needed the help so badly…
