Page 8 of Prince Charming

  “No. I’ve wanted to hit him for a long while.”

  “Yes, but once the spontaneous, uncontrolled action was . . . finished, and you’ve had time to consider all the ramifications of such ungentlemanly conduct, haven’t you concluded . . .”

  She was going to ask him to admit he had a little regret for acting like a barbarian, but he never gave her time to finish her question.

  “Wishes do come true,” he drawled out. “That is my conclusion.”

  She let out a loud sigh. He decided to change the subject. “You couldn’t remember my name, could you?”

  There was a vast amount of amusement in his voice. She couldn’t see his face now, for it was quite dark inside the carriage, but she strongly suspected he was smiling.

  One day she, too, might find some humor in this situation. She didn’t now, however, and furthermore she was appalled by the entire evening. Her own forgetfulness was at the top of her list of horrors to live down. Watching William get knocked to the ground came in second. She was feeling frightened again, and all because she was all alone with this man. Good God, she was married to a complete stranger.

  “I’m not usually so forgetful,” she said. “It’s true, I couldn’t remember your name, but that was only because I was flustered.”

  “What made you tell them . . .”

  She didn’t let him finish his question. “You are my husband, like it or not.”

  “I’m your legal guardian,” he amended, for he liked the sound of that much better.

  She shrugged. “You married me in order to become my guardian. That was part of the agreement, remember?”

  He let out a sigh. “I remember.”

  He sounded irritated to her. She could only conclude he wasn’t very happy about his circumstances. She tried not to take offense. She knew he didn’t want to be married, her grandmother had told her so. It was, therefore, ridiculous for her to have hurt feelings. Why, she barely knew the man. Besides, she was still too busy battling her fear of the giant. She didn’t have time for other worries.

  How had she ever thought he was a gentleman? Lord, she’d instructed him to learn how to stand up for himself. Taylor could feel herself blushing. She was suddenly quite thankful it was so dark inside the vehicle.

  Confront the fear, she thought. A free woman could do that, couldn’t she?

  She cleared her throat. “When you first spoke to William Merritt, the look in your eyes held my attention. You made me . . .”

  “I made you what?” he asked, wondering over her sudden timidity.

  “Worry,” she blurted out. She couldn’t bring herself to admit she’d been afraid. “I know he besmirched my character and that is why you struck him, but I got the feeling you disliked him before he said those unpleasant things about me. Is that true? Did you dislike him before . . .”

  “I hate the son of a bitch.”

  He couldn’t be more blunt than that, she supposed. She found herself smiling and couldn’t imagine why. Her worry was making her daft, she supposed. “Is that the reason you married me? Were you thinking to get even with your brother for his past sins?”

  “No,” he answered. “I needed the money. Your grandmother made me an offer I couldn’t walk away from. Getting even was an added incentive. Taylor, we probably should discuss how this arrangement is going to work. There hasn’t been time until now.”

  “There isn’t anything to discuss. I’ll keep my end of the bargain. You needn’t worry about that. I know you didn’t want to get married. And that, you see, is one of the many reasons why my grandmother found you so appealing.”

  He didn’t see. “You chose me because I didn’t want to get married?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t elaborate.

  “That doesn’t make sense, Taylor.”

  “It makes sense to me,” she argued. “I wanted to be free, and being married to you would insure that goal. I certainly didn’t want to get married. But there was Uncle Malcolm just waiting to take over, and Madam and I both knew that when she died, he would force me to marry someone he chose. I now have legal protection against my uncle,” she added with a nod. “Because I carry your name. What is it, by the way?”

  “Ross,” he answered. “Lucas Ross.”

  She still didn’t remember ever having heard the name before. She wasn’t about to admit that truth, however. He was bound to think she was a complete imbecile. “Yes, of course. Lucas Ross. I remember now,” she blatantly lied. “It’s a very . . . American name, isn’t it?”

  He didn’t have the faintest idea what she meant by that comment. The entire situation was ludicrous to him. He was both exasperated and amused by his bride. God, he was actually married to the woman, and now that he thought about it, he didn’t know a damned thing about her. Except that she was an incredibly good-looking woman. And that, he told himself, shouldn’t matter to him at all.

  “In this day and age, no woman can be forced to marry against her will,” he remarked.

  She let out a rather unladylike snort. “Perhaps in America that is true, but not in England,” she replied. “And certainly not when estates and factories and trusts are at issue. There are other circumstances you don’t know about and really never have any need to know, sir. Suffice it to say that Madam chose you because she knew you would complete your end of the bargain and then go away. Once we get to Boston, I shall be quite all right. You aren’t having second thoughts, are you?”

  He could hear the concern in her voice. “No,” he answered. “I haven’t changed my mind.”

  “Good.” She drew the word out. Lucas didn’t know what to make of her. Hell, he didn’t think she was old enough to even be called a woman. She was so young, so innocent looking. It was his duty to make certain she arrived in Boston safe and sound, hand her over to her legal advisors there, and then leave her.

  The plan sounded just fine to him. “Are there people besides your legal advisors who will take over your care?”

  “Take over my care? I’m capable of taking care of myself, Mr. Ross.”

  She sounded incensed. Lucas smiled. He had obviously pricked her temper with his poorly phrased question. He hadn’t heard any fear in her outraged reaction, however, and filed that bit of information away for future use. When Taylor was angry, she forgot to be afraid.

  And she was afraid all right, afraid of him. From the moment she had spotted him walking toward her in the ballroom, she’d become as frightened as a trapped rabbit. Yet hadn’t he spotted relief as well? That didn’t make any sense. How could she be frightened and relieved at the same time.

  “I meant to ask you if you had relatives living in Boston,” he said.

  “Yes, I do,” she answered. She deliberately failed to add the fact that the relatives in question were only two years old. He didn’t need to know that particular.

  “Good.”

  He sounded relieved. She tried not to become irritated. “Do women in America need to be taken care of like children?”

  “Some do,” he supposed.

  “I don’t,” she announced. “I’m very self-sufficient. However, aside from relatives and financial advisors waiting for me, there are also a number of other bankers eager to help make my adjustment to Boston society easier. I’m certain someone has already found me suitable lodging. Where is your home, sir?”

  “Don’t call me sir. My name’s Lucas.”

  “My name’s Taylor.” Oh, God, he already knew that. “I mean to say you have my permission to call me Taylor. You have a ranch somewhere in the wilderness, don’t you?”

  She was sounding worried again. Lucas wanted to put her at ease but couldn’t figure out how he was ever going to accomplish that goal. She was as skittish as a young colt. The journey to America was going to take an eternity, he decided, if Taylor continued to act so timid around him.

  “Didn’t your grandmother fill you in on the particulars?”

  “No,” she answered. “There wasn’t time. I understand she spent a good de

al of time with you. You visited with her on many occasions before she decided to ask you to marry me. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I only arrived back from Scotland this afternoon. You were there, waiting, and Madam said the minister was late for another engagement. She would have fretted if I had plied her with questions.”

  “So you married me without knowing anything at all about me?”

  “Madam said you were acceptable,” Taylor replied. “You don’t know much about me either, unless Madam told you about my background, but since we won’t be seeing one another once we reach Boston, it really doesn’t matter, does it?”

  “No,” he answered. “I suppose it doesn’t.” He decided to answer her earlier question then. “I have a ranch in an area called Montana Territory, near the edge of the valley. It’s isolated, sparsely populated now that the gold rush is over, and the only town around is just two streets wide and long. You would hate it.”

  “Why would you think I’d hate it?” she asked.

  “The only society there is the Sunday gathering in front of the general store for the reading of the newspaper from Rosewood. There aren’t any parties or balls. Survival’s a lot more important there than society.”

  “And that is what appeals to you?” He didn’t answer her. “What is the name of the town?”

  “Redemption.”

  It sounded wonderful to her. “Could a person get lost there? Is there enough space to walk for a full day and never see another soul?”

  If he thought her question odd, he didn’t say. The carriage rocked to a stop near the street leading to the loading docks. The ship they would board was called the Emerald, a two-ton paddle wheel steamer moored in the center of the river. A small steam tender would convey the passengers to the ship.

  Taylor was suddenly anxious to be on her way. It was well past one o’clock in the morning, yet the streets and pavement were teeming with activity. Their carriage was hindered from progressing any further by all the wagons, mail carts, and carriages ahead of them being unloaded of their letters, packages, and passengers.

  “Are our suitcases already on board?” she asked. “Or must we find them in this clutter?”

  “They’re already in our stateroom.”

  “Our stateroom? Don’t we have separate quarters, sir?”

  She was trying hard not to panic again. Lucas wasn’t paying any attention to her now, and that was a blessing, she thought. She knew she’d gone pale. She felt faint. Did the man expect to share her bed? Heavens, she hadn’t considered that obscene possibility.

  Lucas unlatched the door, pulled the drape back, and then turned to her.

  “Your grandmother insisted the log show we shared the same quarters, Taylor. She wanted only one reservation written down. Feel like walking the rest of the way?”

  She felt like running. She nodded instead. He got out of the vehicle, then turned to assist her. She left her cloak behind. He reached behind her to get the garment, saw her gloves were on the floor, and collected those as well, then turned to help her put her cloak on. Taylor seemed surprised she wasn’t wearing her gloves and hastily put them in her pocket. She knew he was being extremely considerate with her, and that fact made her feel better. Perhaps he wasn’t such a barbarian after all.

  “Why didn’t I notice how tall you were?”

  She hadn’t realized she’d asked the question until the words were out of her mouth and she couldn’t take them back.

  “You were standing on the step next to your grandmother’s bed. I wasn’t.”

  She barely heard his explanation. She was thoroughly occupied staring at him. He had a wonderful smile. And beautiful white teeth, she couldn’t help but notice. Heavens, he even had a dimple in the side of his cheek. If that wasn’t appealing, she didn’t know what was. She let out a little sigh over her errant thoughts.

  He glanced down, caught her staring up at him, and wondered what had come over her. She was blushing. She was such an innocent, he thought. Taylor looked mesmerized, almost dazed. What in thunder was the matter with her?

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “You’re very handsome,” she blurted out. She immediately regretted telling him the truth. He looked exasperated with her. Her face felt as though it were burning. God, she wished she were more worldly, more sophisticated. “Of course, I’m a horrible judge of men,” she hastily added. “You’ve probably figured that out by now.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Now she was exasperated. “I was going to marry William,” she reminded him.

  He shrugged. She didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. “I should hate all men, I suppose.”

  He laughed. “You’re too young to hate anyone.”

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  “Old enough to hate the world.”

  He was through discussing the matter. Lucas grabbed hold of her hand and started walking. She had to run to keep pace. Fortunately, the crowd swelled near the corner, and he was forced to slow down.

  He had a firm grip on her hand. Taylor felt safe. It was an interesting feeling, overwhelmingly pleasant, actually, for she hadn’t felt safe in such a long time. Things were looking much, much brighter.

  They threaded their way through the chaos. The wharf was ablaze with light and activity. Carts piled high with trunks and suitcases stood unattended in the center of the street. Vendors shouted their prices and waved their wares as they pushed their way around the obstacles, while couples huddled together in a waiting line outside the ticketing office. Pickpockets darted in and out of the crowd, some as young as eight, others as old as eighty, but no one got within spitting distance of Taylor. Lucas wouldn’t allow that. Men did gawk. They didn’t touch. She noticed several gentlemen staring at her and believed her formal attire was drawing all the attention. With her free hand, she pulled the dark cape close and held the edges together against her chest.

  Lucas noticed the action. “Are you getting cold?”

  She shook her head. “I’m trying not to draw attention,” she explained. “I’m not dressed appropriately for travel,” she added when he continued to look down at her.

  It wouldn’t have mattered what she wore, Lucas decided. She couldn’t change what she looked like. Her curly hair cascaded down her back. The color, as pure a gold as a stalk of prairie wheat, was like a beacon to anyone who happened to glance their way. Taylor was of medium height, yet she held herself like a tall, regal princess. There was a definite sensuality in her walk, too, Lucas had noticed that right away, and those were just a few of the hundred or so reasons why he didn’t believe it was possible for her not to draw attention to herself. She was damned beautiful, and when she looked directly at a man with those big blue eyes, he might as well give up trying to do anything but stare back. Even if Taylor were dressed in beggar’s britches and an oversized man’s shirt, she would still attract notice and lustful stares.

  He didn’t like the attention she was getting any more than she did. He felt possessive and couldn’t understand why. His reaction to her didn’t make any sense, yet the need to protect her fairly overwhelmed him. Hell, he barely knew her. Yet she belonged to him. She was his wife now. And what in God’s name was he going to do about that?

  He was glaring down at her. His moods, she decided, were as contrary and unpredictable as the weather.

  “I should have changed my gown after the ball,” she announced for lack of anything better to say.

  “It wouldn’t have helped.”

  He sounded surly. He was still frowning something fierce, though Taylor was happy to notice the focus of his displeasure now seemed to be centered on a group of young men lounging against the metal hitching posts.

  She didn’t waste time speculating about his sudden change in mood, however, because they turned the corner then and she spotted the Emerald in the distance. Her breath caught in the back of her throat. The ship was a magnificent sight. The moon cast a gold

en glow upon the mighty vessel, making it appear mystical in size. White frothing caps from the churning waves of the Mersey slapped against the sides but the ship didn’t appear to move at all. Why, the Emerald looked as sturdy as a mountain and as welcoming as a preacher on Sunday morning.

  Taylor was awed by the sight. She came to a dead stop and stared in fascination. “Isn’t it beautiful, Mr. Ross?”

  The wonder in her voice made him feel like smiling. He looked at the ship, then turned back to her. “Yes, she is beautiful,” he agreed.

  “She must weigh at least five thousand tons.”

  “Not quite two,” he corrected. “We aren’t in church, Taylor. You don’t have to whisper.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d been whispering; she laughed over her own behavior. “She’s very majestic looking, isn’t she?” she remarked in a louder tone of voice.

  Lucas didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm. He had sailed on larger, more impressive ships, but the look of pleasure he saw on her face made him keep that bit of information to himself.

  Taylor was turning out to be a bit of a puzzle. He knew she came from an extremely wealthy family and, therefore, he assumed she’d had every advantage. Yet now she acted as though this were her first journey into the big city. She wasn’t a country farm girl, but damned if she weren’t acting like one.

  She caught him staring down at her. “Am I gawking, Mr. Ross?”

  “Just a little.”

  She smiled. “I fear I’m not very sophisticated,” she admitted.

  “Have you never left England before?”

  “I’ve gone to Scotland many, many times,” she replied. “But I’ve never gone on the ocean. I’m looking forward to the experience.”

  “Let’s hope you don’t get seasick.”

  “Oh, I won’t. I’m a very strong woman,” Taylor boasted. “I never get sick.”

  He gave her a look that suggested he didn’t believe her. She decided to turn the topic. “My grandfather Taylor and his brother-in-law, Andrew, sailed on the original Emerald. Andrew was too young to remember the adventure, but Grandfather was full of stories about life aboard ship and his friendship with the notorious nearsighted pirate named Black Harry. Have you ever heard of him, Mr. Ross?”