Ashes in the Wind (40 page)

“No need of either, sir. I boarded my buckboard and horse at a livery near here. If Murphy can take me that far, I’d be obliged.”

Cole withdrew a flat purse from inside his coat and passed several bills to the lawyer. “Here! Give this to Murphy and ask him to outfit Saul in some warm clothes before the man freezes to death.”

“Of course, Doctor Latimer.” Mister James accepted the money and hurried to the wagon, leaving Cole frowning thoughtfully as he gazed toward the brougham and the slim, cool features of his young wife.

Returning to the carriage, he threw his greatcoat and hat into the seat opposite Alaina, then climbed in to take a place beside her. He swept the fur throw from beneath his coat and spread it over her lap, leaning across to tuck the robe securely into the corner behind her. Though Alaina avoided meeting his eyes, she was vividly aware of the clean, fresh scent of his cologne. But where he was concerned, she wished to remain distinctly detached and erected an icebound wall of silence to achieve that end. It had been an affront to her pride to be
informed that, while he could receive her as his wife, he did not desire her as a woman. Had it been some other man, she might have wondered at his virility, but in Cole’s case, she knew better. He was certainly not impotent, whatever the disabilities caused by the injury to his leg. Indeed, if their last meeting had been any indication, his appetites ran toward the satyr and he had the tendencies of a hot-blooded roué. The fact that he had looked to her as
easy prey for his lusts was a thorn in her side now that he had stated his preferences for their marriage. Her pride ached for some assuaging vengeance.

The driver shouted, and as the brougham began to move, Cole clasped the hand strap by his window. Alaina noticed that his only concession to the cold was to drape a corner of the fur throw over his right leg, as if the wound made it more tender to the weather. Otherwise, he seemed scarcely affected by the chilly dampness.

She paid no heed to the motion of the brougham until a hard-sinewed arm suddenly reached across her, drawing her complete and immediate attention as he braced a hand on the window molding beside her and rested the back of his arm with bold familiarity against her bosom, pressing her firmly back into the seat.

Alaina’s temper flared at this open affront. That he should dare! She opened her mouth to vent a caustic reprimand. In the next instant, the coach lurched upward, and had it not been for the restraint, she would have been spilled ignominiously to the floor. The rebuke dwindled to a gasp, and she clutched the now-welcome arm tightly, securing her dignity.

Olie whistled to the team and cracked his whip over their heads. The animals lunged against the traces, dragging the sturdy carriage upward along the steep road. Finally, with a last scrambling charge, they topped the brink, and the teamster pulled the steeds back into a more leisurely pace. With as much grace as she could muster, Alaina loosened her firm grasp, allowing her husband to withdraw the restraint. With the ride more stable now, Cole moved to the opposite seat where he could take full advantage of the view. Indeed, he made no effort to limit his perusal to anything superficial, and Alaina felt his eyes move with exacting slowness over every part of her.

Let him stare!
she thought indignantly and turned her face to the window.
He’s at least bought the right to look.

They passed the main gate of the fort and crossed the wide, cleared area that encircled the walls. The carriage darkened abruptly as they entered into a towering elm forest, and a mile or two further on, the road dipped downward into a shallow valley. Soon, the brougham was rattling across the rock-strewn bed of a small stream.The low murmur of tumbling water came to Alaina’s ears, but she could see no sign of a falls. As the carriage plunged and bucked on its way, she kept her gaze fastened out the window, little aware of the scenery they passed. Her mind churned with festering resentment as she continued to be subjected to a most familiar scrutiny that gave no hint of ending soon. She cursed the day she met Jacques DuBonné. But for him, she would not be here now, married to a cocksure
Yankee who had the audacity to openly ogle her as if she were some tender morsel expressly prepared for his enjoyment. She was almost glad she had worn the widow’s black, for in anything else she might have felt
herself ravished by those piercing blue eyes.

Suddenly realizing Cole had spoken to her, Alaina glanced around. He held a cigar in one hand, a match in the other, and was apparently waiting for her consent. “Do you mind?” He lifted the cigar questioningly.

“No, of course not.” So he would smoke and look, she mused testily as she again directed her attention out the window. They were splashing through the muddy outer streets of a rapidly growing city, but she had no time to dwell on their surroundings before she was brought once more to the awareness that Cole was speaking to her. Her eyes quickly met his. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear—”

“Would you mind taking of that silly bonnet?” he repeated and punched the match into the tip of the cigar, opening a small hole in the leaf. “I would like to have a better look at you.”

Alaina’s temper rolled over restlessly at his request, but she obediently removed the bonnet and selfconsciously tucked a stray darkly burnished curl into the simple coil at her nape. Having had only a small hand mirror on board the riverboat, she could imagine that her appearance not only resembled a pauper, but was greatly disheveled at best. The scowl that came to Cole’s brow made her all the more uncomfortable. He still held the unlit cigar and was fairly flaying the end with the butt of the match.

“Do you frighten children with that frown, Major?”

Irritably, Cole jammed the cheroot into his mouth and, striking the match on the sole of his boot, puffed the thing aglow. His blue eyes considered her through the wraith of smoke that curled into the air.

Alaina swept a slim hand toward the window, feeling a need to turn aside that audacious stare. “I’ve heard many stories of wild Indians, of snow deeper than one’s head, and of great wolves ranging through the streets. I see nothing of that. Instead, a city growing in the midst of a wooded land.”

“Your tales were not unfounded, madam.” Those clear, bright orbs of blue regarded her with an intensity that made her warm with embarrassment. He gestured with his cigar. “That robe is made from the pelts of several winter wolves.”

She smoothed the long, silky fur in wonder. “I would have thought them hoary beasts, short of coat and stiffly furred.”

Cole winced suddenly as the brougham bounced over a pothole. They were coming into the center of the metropolis where a scattering of stone and brick buildings were settled in a crowded nest of smaller ones. Some were wood with high false fronts, others monolithic structures of stone, two, three, sometimes four stories high. Raised boardwalks provided passage from one edifice to the next, a necessity since the streets were unpaved and well churned to a muddy depth.

Tight-lipped, Cole drew a small flask from a carriage pocket and, after a long draught, relaxed a
moment before he dismissed the unspoken question he saw in her eyes. “That piece of metal does me ill. It has a harsh way of reminding me of its presence.”

“Major Magruder thought he had a better idea,” she murmured. “Have you changed your mind?”

Cole snorted and drew again from the silver flagon before tucking it away. “Better that I have the ache to remind me the leg is still there than the itch of an empty stump.”

Reaching out to her gray cloak, he plucked at its cloth. “Why didn’t you wear the clothes I sent to you?”

Alaina’s gaze grew distant as she remembered her first glimpse of Mister James and the leather case. It had taken an abduction to convince her she should carry through with the wedding and not send the lawyer back to his client with the sting of heated words. She longed to say them now, but knew from experience that to confront Cole squarely would lead to argument and strife. It was best, for the moment at least, to avoid any confrontation that might end as their last meeting. As gently as she could, she spoke about a subject that sorely pricked her pride. “You have done me great service, Doctor Latimer, in exchanging proxy vows and thus making it possible for me to come here and escape an intolerable situation. For this, I owe you much. Much more than I can repay in any foreseeable time. It seems I must continually remind you that I am not wealthy—”

“You are my wife.” His voice was soft, though his smile was knowingly chiding.

Stubbornly Alaina shook her head, rejecting his statement. She blushed with frustration at having to
explain her situation. “I repeat, I am not wealthy, but I have a desire to pay what debts I knowingly incur. A few months should give even the Federals time to catch up with Jacques, now that he is found out. Perhaps by spring I will be able to return and see to the clearing of my name. You must know I am sorely put to task with having to beg your indulgence until then. Thus, if I accept the clothes, fine and rich as they are, it would only extend an obligation which I am already at heavy odds to repay. I am quite capable, otherwise, of seeing to myself.”

Cole leaned forward until the wide, sparkling gray eyes came to meet the mocking smile in his. “Were you wise enough to see to yourself, Alaina Latimer, you would not be here.”

Her face burned at the truth of his statement. She had little left to be proud of. Even her independence had been stripped from her, and it goaded her that she must now rely upon this, of all men, for her support. As dearly as she wished to hurl an angry denial in his face, she could not. Though the truth of it stung, there was none to hurl. Still, she was determined not to be a burden to him, socially or financially. At least that way she could manage to retain some shred of self-esteem.

Cole leaned back and drew on the cigar thoughtfully. “The clothes were a wedding gift, Alaina, and I take it much amiss that you go about looking like a homeless waif.”

“Wedding?” She laughed with disdain. “Is that what you call it?”

His face was inscrutable through the drifting smoke. “Ah, yes. Mister James told me of your reluctance to be married.”

“Forgive me, Major, if I do not feel wed. Had I been given any other choice, I would not be. But Mister DuBonné left me with no other alternative.”

“So kind of you, madam”—he smiled with sarcasm—“to consider me the lesser of two evils.”

“The lesser of two evils is still evil, Major Latimer.” Alaina dipped her head and continued calmly. “I thought it was the best I could do at the time. I may yet reconsider.”

“And you sacrificed yourself, agreed to marry me, though I am still the enemy?” His voice betrayed an overtone of satire.

“There was no sacrifice.” Her voice was hard and crisp. “The marriage can be annulled and declared void if you chafe under it. For the last, I do not regard you as an enemy. The war is over.”

Cole carefully knocked the ash from his cigar and watched her doubtfully. “It would appear, madam, that this one is only beginning.”

T
HE
carriage tracked a new path through the muddy streets until Olie pulled it to a halt before a tall brick building. A sign on the corner of the cream-colored edifice labeled it as the Nicollet House. In deference to his employer’s lameness, Olie had maneuvered close to the boardwalk, allowing them to descend to a level footing on the wooden planks. The rain was falling more heavily now and quickly dappled Cole’s hat and greatcoat when he stepped out.

“Got baggage?” a muscular youth called from the protection of the door.

Alaina glanced up in surprise as Cole gestured toward the boot. She had not considered that she would be ensconced in a hotel with him for any length of time. As she moved to the door of the carriage, Cole slid his hands about her narrow waist and swung her easily across the boardwalk into the shelter of a second-floor balcony that jutted out over the main door, forming a canopy of sorts. Whisked briskly into the lobby on her husband’s arm, she was made acutely conscious of the contrast between her dreary garb and the rich trappings of the interior. It was not long before she also became aware of having collected the attention of most of the men who stood about the room. She
could not fully concede that she warranted such admiring regards, and wondered laconically how long it might have been since they last had seen a woman.

Gesturing upstairs, Cole dropped a key into the lad’s waiting hand. The youth hurried off with her trunk, and the major turned, resting his hand possessively on the small of his wife’s back. As he guided her across the foyer a few men, meeting his eye, nodded a brief greeting, but recognizing the challenge in his gaze, turned away and proceeded about their business.

In the sparsely filled dining room, the couple enjoyed a relatively restful repast, though Alaina found Cole’s stoical frown rather forbidding. She was devouring a rich dessert with an eagerness that hinted of her long separation from sweets when the boy returned with the key and went off again happily counting the coins he had received.

They left the dining room, and after a full flight of stairs, Alaina was prompted to protest the hand that grasped her elbow somewhat less than gently. He seemed unaware of his almost bruising hold. “Major, please! Are you afraid you’ll lose me?”

Halting before a door, Cole unlocked it and pushed it wide, commenting as he drew her within the suite. “My past experiences with you, madam, have made me understandably cautious. You have a way of vanishing at the damnedest times, leaving a man in dire straits.”

The barb pricked, but Alaina was quick with a retort. “Had I stayed, sir, you would have no doubt found yourself forced into marriage with me rather than Roberta. Would you have seen that as an improvement?”

“A lesser of two evils, surely,” he mocked.

Those bright eyes taunted her, and Alaina felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

“As you said, madam, better me than Jacques.” With his cane he pushed the door closed behind her. “And better you than Roberta.”

“The way you fought with her, I can hardly feel complimented,” she stated crisply.

“We had little regard for each other, it’s true,” Cole admitted. He laid aside his hat and coat, smiling wryly. “All things considered, you and I got along much better.”

Alaina felt as vulnerable as she had that first night in his apartment. She crossed the room, nervously placing herself well out of his reach. “Must I remind you, sir of our countless arguments?”

“I remember a few times when you lost your temper—such as in the hospital after I was wounded. You undoubtedly thought it was a crime because I desired you.”

“You were a married man!” Alaina gasped. “And I didn’t take kindly to being seized and pawed when anybody could have walked in.”

“My apologies, madam.” He smiled sardonically and gave a curt bow. “I should have waited for a more opportune time and place.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she managed in some dignity.

“You made your way through the wards raising a lot more than the soldier’s spirits,” Cole declared bluntly. “Indeed, Lieutenant Appleby seemed anxious to play the rutting stag, while I had to lie there and watch him panting after you like some overeager schoolboy. And you allowed it!”

“And why not? It was rather pleasant being courted by a gentleman for a change, and despite what you might have imagined, he was always a gentleman. He was also unattached, if you’ll remember, while you were not. You only wanted another mistress to add to your stable, while he was after a wife.”

“Did he propose to you?” Cole demanded harshly and, at her nod, further questioned, “Then why didn’t you marry him?”

“I was quite wary of Yankee soldiers, especially officers.” Arching a brow, she gazed at him meaningfully. “Besides, I wasn’t in love with him.”

Cole snorted derisively. “You’re not in love with me either. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

Alaina turned away with a frown and shrugged lamely. “You’ve been as blunt.”

Restlessly she moved away from his scowl. She was becoming less and less sure of her reasons for marrying him. The way it looked, the two of them were not likely to lead a docile life. She was tired of struggling for survival. All she sought was a brief time of peace and contentment. Yet, with Cole as her husband, that seemed well beyond her grasp.

She wandered into the bedroom, then hastily returned, and Cole caught the covert glance she cast his way. He knew her well enough to read the quizzical quirk that touched her soft lips. But then, he was fully aware that the suite had only one bedroom. He moved past her as she stood in the doorway and, entering the room, doffed his coat and cravat, and leisurely opened his vest and shirt.

“I thought we would be going on to your home before nightfall,” she ventured rather shyly.

He glanced up briefly and began folding up his shirt sleeves. “We’ll get there soon enough, Alaina. Have no fear.”

“If you have business in town, Major, perhaps Olie can find Saul or Mister James before they leave town, and I can go with them. I will only be a hindrance to you here.”

Cole’s jaw tensed. So, she would play the reluctant virgin to the hilt, when both of them knew she had no cause. “I’ll not have you bumping along the roads on the back of a wagon like the meanest serving wench. I assure you, madam, that I will see you to my home with more dignity than you seem concerned about.”

“You Yankees have a way of prattling on about pride and dignity,” she replied loftily. “Those have been luxuries I can ill afford of late.”

Cole stepped close, and Alaina almost retreated from those suddenly fierce eyes. But she steeled herself and held her ground before his glare.

“You may enjoy what luxury I—” he tapped his chest to stress the word—“can afford.” He straightened, squaring his wide shoulders, but his eyes still held hers in bondage. “I suggest you put aside this damned silly notion you have about the clothes I bought you. If you cannot accept marriage with me privately, then you had better consider what you must do for the sake of appearances.” He raked her with a brazen stare. “It shouldn’t be too difficult for you, my dear, since you’ve played so many parts already.”

Alaina held her tongue, not with acquiescence, but when she was just as determined not to let her emotions get entangled with being his wife, it was best to
remain silent. As he seemed to expect some response from her, she shrugged flippantly. “I just didn’t expect to be nestled in so cozily with you, that’s all.”

“Does the idea of sharing a bed with me strike you as distasteful?” he asked sharply.

“It’s not just the sharing of a bed that worries me. It’s what might happen in it.” Her pert nose elevated to an imperial angle, she left him and returned to the sitting room.

Cole swore beneath his breath. He had erred in deeming her down-trodden. She was the epitome of the stubborn, prideful South itself, one of the most loyal of that breed of humanity. Bested by circumstances for the moment, she was little daunted. Yet for all of her fire and spirit, she displayed none of the underlying viciousness of Roberta, and although she adroitly evaded him, he found himself neither repulsed nor greatly discouraged by her manner. Indeed, he found the whole affair rather challenging.

He followed her and solicitously moved to lend his assistance as Alaina struggled to untangle the knot she had unwittingly set in the ties of her cloak.

“I can manage alone, thank you,” she said, shrugging off his helping hand.

Cole leaned casually against the doorway she had just vacated. “Suit yourself, madam. It will be interesting to see just how long you can remain detached from this marriage.”

“If it were any kind of proper marriage, I don’t see how I could keep myself apart from it.” She finally freed the knot and doffed the woolen garment. “But it’s not a bond of marriage we have here, sir. It’s an arrangement, and most temporary.”

She turned, smoothing her hair, then halted as she found Cole once more scrutinizing her with a thoroughness that made her feel undressed. His gaze moved unabashedly over her high, full breasts and trim waist, then meandered leisurely along the full length of her.

“I hope I do not disappoint you, Major.”

“On the contrary, madam,” he replied easily. “You have blossomed beyond my wildest expectations.” He scratched his palm thoughtfully. “I was just considering the frenzy you’ll create among the gossips when I present you as my wife.”

“Because I am from the South?” Alaina queried, mistaking his meaning. “Or because you’ve remarried so soon after Roberta’s death?”

Cole was amused. “This is still a frontier, madam. A man is not expected to remain a widower when he might have to spend the winter alone.”

“Unless you have spoken of my circumstances with someone, sir,” she argued, “I cannot imagine why I should be of interest—”

“I’m not in the habit of bending the local ears with matters personal to me,” Cole assured her shortly. He half turned to a nearby bureau, on the top of which was a tray bearing several decanters and glasses. At his questioning gaze, Alaina declined with a shake of her head, and he poured brandy in a snifter for himself. “How I managed to obtain such a beautiful bride without leaving the territory will be the question on everyone’s lips. ‘Roberta’s cousin?’ they’ll surely whisper, and then ask each other, ‘Do you think perhaps she and he were once lovers?’ “ He laughed aloud at the glare
Alaina tossed him. Sipping the liquor, he limped around her to take a seat on the settee. As she faced him again, his gaze ranged slowly over her. “In truth, Alaina, it would seem that you have outdone your cousin in every respect.”

Not knowing whether to feel flattered or insulted, she bestowed upon him a smile that was brief and tight. “I don’t want to appear dim-wilted, sir, but what exactly do you mean by, ‘in every respect’?”

Cole countered with a question of his own. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

Alaina was taken aback by his inquiry. Beautiful in widow’s weeds? Sensing some affront, she asked cautiously, “Is this some attempt to play me for a fool?”

He looked at her doubtingly. “Still virginal, Alaina?”

A hot flush of color burned her cheeks. “You, sir, of all people, should know better! But then”—her voice carried a sharp tone of reproof—“I must remember that you mistook me for Roberta.”

Staring at her, Cole tasted a small draught of the amber liquid. “Not entirely.”

“Oh?” Her disbelief betrayed itself in a voice dripping with scorn. “You mean you weren’t duped as you once claimed?” She laughed scoffingly. “My ears did deceive me then. I could have sworn you groaned in agony over your marriage with Roberta.”

Cole’s eyes passed over her lightly. “Unfortunately it was only after the vows were spoken that I was able to realize that passion was not one of Roberta’s strong points, certainly different from the girl I originally bedded in the Craighugh house.”

Alaina whirled away, unable to bear his sardonic grin. “If you don’t mind, Major,” she flung over her shoulder, “I would like to freshen up.”

“By all means, madam.” As she hurried to the bedroom door, he scanned her trim and shapely back before he halted her with a comment. “The widow’s weeds are not unbecoming, Alaina, but they tend to overshadow everything with gloom.” Icy gray eyes cut back to him. “It is my desire that you wear a gown more appropriate to the occasion.”

“Occasion?” she repeated coolly. “I wasn’t aware that we were celebrating anything, sir.”

“I’ve made an honest woman of you,” he drawled leisurely. “Isn’t that enough cause?”

Her ire was ill suppressed as she ground out between clenched teeth, “You muleheaded Yankee! It took you long enough to find the right woman!”

Laughter gave evidence of his amusement as Alaina stalked into the bedroom. Her color was high, her eyes ablaze. Pure rage roiled through her veins. How dare he harass her about her lost virtue when it was he who had stripped it from her! He had touched a most vulnerable spot in her facade, and the desire was in her to retaliate in some way, subtly perhaps, so he might not readily discern it as revenge. Or even boldly, that he might feel the point of the thrust. But what would penetrate that thick hide of his, she could not imagine.

Alaina locked the door and doffed the black dress, thinking many ill thoughts of the man in the next room. He seemed to know just what it took to prick her temper.

She washed her face and shoulders, drawing in her breath at the bracing cold water. Yet it served in
some degree to cool her temper as it thoroughly chilled her.

She brushed her hair to a silky sheen, parted it down the middle and, turning under the softly curling ends, gathered the sleek mass into a pale gray silken net. Between her breasts and behind her earlobes she applied the perfume that she had taken from the case he had sent to her. She had been unable to resist the delicate and elusive, hauntingly seductive scent, but she would never tell him of her weakness. Let him guess, if he could.

Her eyes ran warmly over a day dress of silver gray silk she had taken from her faithful wicker case. Cole would be surprised to realize that she was not a complete pauper, and she relished that thought. Carefully she raised the full-skirted gown above her head and guided it down into place. It was a garment she had managed to purchase with hard-earned coins but, like most of her wardrobe, it had been previously owned by another, a young friend of Mrs. Hawthorne who had arranged the whole transaction. The bodice simulated a jacket of Zouave design and was edged with pleated charcoal gray ribbon. Embroidered lawn duplicated a squarenecked blouse of mauve, and engageantes of the same cloth filled the open sleeves of the jacket. At least, wearing this, she could hardly be accused of looking like a homeless waif.