Southern Seduction (29 page)

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Authors: Brenda Jernigan

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Southern Seduction
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Finally, he tore his mouth away and whispered, “I want you, darling now and always.”

Brooke’s heart gave a wild leap. She felt happier than she could ever remember. They didn’t make love. Instead, Travis shaved and dressed in clean clothes while Brooke took care of her own toilet. He went ahead, telling her that he’d meet her in the dining room.

When Brooke was finally ready, she left the cabin.
The fog was so thick that moving about the boat was difficult. Still Brooke tried to make her way through the white mist. Every once in awhile a body just seemed to jump out at her, though the other person was merely walking down the walkway. She made herself smile and tried not to be so jumpy. There was no reason to be that way. It was just a little fog. It couldn’t hurt her. But still, Brooke had the oddest feeling.

Brooke heard a commotion coming out of the clinging fog,
and since she couldn’t tell exactly where it was coming from, she decided to stop at the rail until whatever it was had passed.

Up above her, Captain Leathers was swearing at the pilot to watch out and make sure they didn’t hit anything.

Certain that the commotion was over, Brooke turned and bumped into Travis’s mother, who must have been standing behind her. “I’m sorry,” Brooke said. “I didn’t see you.”

“I don’t wonder.
It’s impossible to see anything this morning,” Margaret snapped. “Where is Travis?”

“He went on ahead of me.
I think he’s already in the dining room.”

Margaret put her hands on her hips.
“I hope you don’t plan on making any changes at Moss Grove,” she said abruptly. “We like it the way it is. We don’t need anyone from the outside interfering.”

“I rather like Moss Grove myself,” Brooke told her.
Brooke realized that Margaret was trying to establish who would be mistress of Moss Grove, and she did what she could to mollify her. If the woman had been the least bit cordial, Brooke would never interfere, but she wasn’t about to let the irritating woman have the upper hand.

“Moss Grove isn’t your home, young woman,” Margaret snapped.
“So don’t get used to living there,” she warned Brooke. “Travis told me exactly why he married you. It’s a pity he had to stoop so low. At least after a year he’ll be free to marry his rightful fiancée once he divorces you.”

This woman was vicious.
“He told you that?” Brooke asked, unsure of what to believe.

Margaret laughed.
“Of course he did. You don’t really think that he loves you, do you? My son told me he did what was necessary to save the plantation, which has always come first with him.”

Brooke folded her arms.
“I hate to tell you this, Ms. deLobel, but I’m half owner of Moss Grove. So I can do pretty much as I please with my half,” Brooke told her, entertaining a lovely dream of tossing the woman out. “If you insist on causing trouble,” Brooke said, because she could see that was the woman’s intension, “I’m sure other arrangements can be made for you.”

Margaret stepped closer to her, poking one sharp finger toward her face.
“Now you listen to me,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “You will not talk to me like that. I’m going right now to find Travis. He won’t appreciate how you have treated his mother.”

Brooke watched as the woman stormed off into the fog.
The old harridan. As Margaret hurried off, Brooke turned to the rail trying to gather her wits before she had to face that battleaxe again over breakfast.

Could Travis really be playing her for a fool?
Brooke really didn’t think so. She believed that Travis loved her, though he’d never said as much. If only all this weren’t so new to her, she might know what to do. She breathed in a deep sigh. What if Travis was just a very good actor?

Brooke decided she had better go on and find her way to the dining room.
At least there, she’d have the comfort of seeing Travis. Perhaps, if she could see him, she could sense what he was truly feeling.

Suddenly, without warning, something hard slammed into Brooke’s back, knocking her over the rail.
So shocked at what had happened she could barely scream as she flailed about, trying to find a handhold. Her dress caught on something, and for just a moment, she thought she’d been saved. But her salvation was short lived.

The deadly sound of ripping fabric told Brooke that her luck had not held.
The dress tore and she plummeted downward toward the dark water below.

Brooke screamed as she flailed wildly through the air, hoping to grab anything to stop her plunge.
Why wasn’t anybody there to help her?

Oh, God, she thought, she was going in the water. This was the end.

Would anybody save her?

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

 

Travis wondered what was keeping his wife.
How long did it take her to get ready?

For the third time in the last five minutes, he glanced at the door.
No Brooke, to make matters worse, his mother had decided to make her appearance and was striding toward the table. At least she was alone.

"The fog is terrible this morning," Margaret said as Travis held out a chair for her.

"Yes, it is,” he replied. “Captain Leathers isn't happy about the fog. It makes his job just that much harder,” Travis explained as he moved back to his seat. “You didn’t happen to see Brooke?"

Margaret unfolded the linen napkin and placed it across her lap.
"Seeing anybody in this murky mess would be difficult. However, I did see her talking with a gentleman as I made my way here. I asked her if she’d like to walk with me to breakfast, but she declined my invitation.” Margaret managed to shrug and say off handedly, “The woman definitely needs better manners, and if you ask me, she was standing much too close to the man with whom she was speaking.”

Margaret looked around.
“I would have thought that she’d join us by now. Does she make a habit of being late?" she asked with an eyebrow raised indicating her disapproval.

"Brooke
isn't late, Mother. I was early,” Travis told her without bothering to hide his irritation. He stood up. He couldn’t imagine who Brooke could be talking to. She didn’t know that many people in America. “I'm going to see what has delayed her."


As you wish, son,” Margaret said as she reached for her
café au lait
. Then she added, "Perhaps you should inquire after Hesione. I couldn't persuade her to come to breakfast, even though she was already dressed."

Travis didn't bother to answer as he went in search of his wife.
Once outside, he noticed that the shores of the river had been so blurred by the lingering fog that they were almost invisible.

He hadn't gone more than five feet when he came across Captain Leathers.
Could Leathers have been the one Brooke had been speaking with?

With long, purposeful strides, Travis covered the distance to the captain.
“Have you seen my wife this morning, captain?”

"No,” Leathers said, rubbing his chin.
“Of course, I could have walked right past her and might never have seen her. You can’t see anybody unless you are on them. This thick fog is a damnable mess," the captain grumbled. “The only good thing is that
Annie Johnston
has to travel through this fog as well.”

Travis pulled out his gold case and offered a cigar to the captain.
“Looks like you could use a good smoke.”

“Thanks.”

"Have you ever seen it this bad before?" Travis asked him.

"Once or twice,” he said, shrugging.
“Most of the time the sun comes up and burns the fog away. I’ve seen it happen and rather quickly, too," Leathers said, stroking his red beard. “Let’s hope it does so today.”

"Have you already eaten breakfast?" Leathers asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"Not yet,” Travis replied, shaking his head. “I was waiting for my wife. It appears I will have to go and find out what is taking her so long."

The captain placed a hand on Travis’s shoulder.
“Listen, son. From my experience with women, when it comes to dressing, they never move quickly.” Leathers chuckled. “You’re young. You still have much to learn.”

The captain looked searchingly out into the fog.
"I'm going to send out a yawl and some oarsmen with poles to sound out the river. The river is low and it would be disaster if we hit any of those sandbars.” He turned quickly. “I’ll see you back in the dining room."

Slowed by the clinging clouds, Travis hurried on to his cabin.
He pushed open the cabin door to find the room empty.
Strange
, he thought as he glanced around the stateroom. Could he have somehow passed Brooke in the fog? Not likely, he concluded, but she might have walked the other way around. He would go that way just to make sure.

Travis strode down the fog-filled walkway, nodding curtly to the passengers he stumbled upon in his haste.
However, he found no sign of his wife.

Maybe she hadn’t gone back to the room.
His mother had mentioned that she’d seen Brooke talking to a gentleman. Travis didn’t know whether to believe his mother or not, but she had no reason to lie?

Could Brooke have bumped into Whatsbury?
And if she had talked to him, why hadn’t she come to breakfast? She hadn’t seemed to care for the man when they’d met last night, so why would she take time to speak with him now? Nothing made sense. Had he been blind where she was concerned? Travis had thought that she truly loved him. What he’d found about her past was now causing him to have doubts that he’d rather not have.

Could Brooke still be a courtesan at heart, using him to get what she wanted?
Mainly the plantation.

He would find out.

Jealously drove Travis to act rashly. It didn't take him long to find Whatsbury’s cabin. He stood outside preparing to knock when he heard the sound of a woman’s laughter coming from behind the door. His blood froze and then he saw red. Brooke!

His courtesan wife had obviously reverted to her old tricks.
He started to leave, but his anger propelled him. He slammed his fist against the door.

A moment later, Whatsbury dressed in a silk robe, a smug expression on his face, answered the door.
"Travis, old boy. Rather early for you to come calling."

Travis shoved past Whatsbury and discovered a young woman with brown hair clutching a sheet up to her chin.
Not his wife!

He didn’t know whether to be happy or sad about what he’d found.
At least, it wasn’t Brooke’s laughter he had heard. But on the other hand, he still didn’t know where his wife was.

The boat wasn’t that big.
Where in the world could she be?

Travis nodded curtly to the woman who had the grace to blush as Travis quickly turned away.
He felt like a fool, murmuring, “I beg your pardon.”

Whatsbury leaned against the door, his arms folded across his chest as he barred the way.
"What the devil is this about, Montgomery?"

"Just a mistake.”
Travis gave an impatient shrug. “Have you been out of your room this morning?"

"With what I have in that bed?"
The earl chuckled, cutting his gaze toward the bed. "Not on your life. Why?"

"Nothing,” Travis mumbled.
“Just a mistake.” Travis left as quickly as he could, feeling very foolish for letting jealously rule his head.

Although h
appy that he hadn’t found his wife with Whatsbury, he was still becoming more worried about Brooke’s whereabouts by the minute.

Where in the hell could she have gone?

Travis’s search of the entire boat proved fruitless. The only recourse he had was to consult Captain Leathers. It was not reassuring to have the captain appear quite concerned about Brooke’s apparent disappearance.

Leathers released a few men to help Travis look for Brooke, but the rest were needed to keep the ship from hitting anything during the fog.

By eleven o’clock, the sun had finally burned the fog away, but Brooke was still nowhere to be found. Travis was beside himself with fear.

At noon, one of the ship's personnel came and got both Travis and Captain Leathers.

“I believe I’ve found something, cap’n. You’d best come and look.”

A wave of apprehension swept through Travis, but he told himself his fears were premature as he and the captain followed the crewman.

He took them around to the railing on the port side, then pointed over the rail. “Look there.”

Travis and the captain peered over the side.
Fear, stark and vivid, hit Travis full force. A piece of blue fabric caught tight on a sliver of wood flapped in the wind.

Captain Leathers straightened, his expression grim.
In a strained voice, he asked the question, Travis was already expecting. “What was your wife wearing this morning?”

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