Mateo should go in, shower, join them. But what if the mulher recognized him? A real Brazilian would know he wasn’t Brazilian. It was amazing that the two Argentineans in the crowd of Mexican stablehands hadn’t recognized him at the track. Those boys at the fountain, however, had known exactly who he was. He didn’t have to worry about Ally or Granny Donny or Eloisa knowing the difference between an Argentinean and a Brazilian. He did have to worry about Sam. The man might not know Spanish from Portuguese, but he would know in an instant who Mateo was if he wasn’t thrown by the Brazil nonsense.
When would Ally kick that gringo out? He liked Sam, but he was dangerous. Good thing it looked like Sam was blowing it with Ally big-time. He’d be gone soon at this rate.
Fool.
Mateo’s stomach growled.
He turned to watch Paula, who was nodding off to sleep. Poor girl, working so hard to drag them all through these filthy streets. She was a good horse. She deserved a rest, deserved to get out of that stinking city, and deserved not to be sold for her parts.
“Some of us, Paula, we were just born unlucky.” He patted Paula, who neighed softly. Then he went inside for a shower and dinner. After all, he wasn’t about to miss Mrs. Maltez’s cooking. He might not be Brazilian, but he still loved the food.
He’d just be sure to keep his head down and his mouth shut.
Ally awoke in the narrow single bed. “Ouch!” Bandit was pouncing on her feet.
Her grandmother snored softly beside her, then stirred, and then sneezed.
Ally could just make out the black hands of the antique clock in the darkness: two a.m.
The cat attacked again. His tiny claws dug into her leg. “Stop.” She gathered him up. He purred and bit her hand and she wondered whom Sam was biting—or worse, who was biting him.
Granny Donny sneezed again.
Ally tried to go back to sleep, but it was hopeless. Between wondering about Sam and Eloisa, being attacked by Bandit, and Granny Donny’s restless sleeping and sneezing, she gave up.
She put on her bathrobe, gathered up Bandit, and crept down the hall. She knocked on Sam’s door.
He answered the door, but sleepily—which was good as it meant he’d been sleeping. But he opened the door only a crack, as if trying to keep something inside hidden.
Ally held out the kitten. “I think my grandmother is allergic. Can you keep Bandit for the night?” She tried to peer around him into the room without seeming to peer around him into the room.
He took the kitten. “Sure.”
She hesitated. “But maybe Eloisa is allergic, too,” she suggested.
He smiled the faintest of smiles. “Maybe. Guess we’ll find out.” And then he shut the door.
Ally stood in the dark hallway, alone, fuming.
She stomped back to her room, then returned to Sam’s door a moment later.
She knocked, perhaps louder than was necessary. “Sam, one more thing,” Ally said through the door.
Sam opened the door. Ally held out Bandit’s tiny litter box and a scoop.
“Ah!” He took them but then returned the door to its narrow slit of an opening. “Anything else?”
She hesitated. “Yes.”
“What?”
She took a deep breath. “Tell me about yourself,” she said.
“Excuse me?” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
“You. Who are you, Sam?”
“Ally, it’s two a.m.”
“So you’re saying you’re busy?” she asked. The need to figure Sam out was humiliating. But her grandmother was right: She hardly knew him and she had been judging him and it was wrong and she couldn’t sleep and they were almost in Lewiston and she was coming undone.
“I’ll be right back.” He shut the door and her heart shut, too, and then he emerged a few moments later, with Bandit and a piece of string, and her heart fluttered open again. He shut the door behind him, then sat down on the floor outside the door, his back against the wall. He played with the delighted kitty. His long legs stretched in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He was wearing what looked like a very expensive pair of Henley pajamas, solid navy on top with blue-and-gray plaid flannel pants. She tried not to look at his exquisite toes. “What do you want to know?”
She sat down, too, leaving a good foot between them. Not that the distance stopped her from feeling the heat of him. “In The Dulcet Duke, Duke Blackmoore is a rogue, but it’s not his fault.”
“Ah. Right. I remember. That prologue about his father despising him because of his lisp. Ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous. It’s lovely. Sam, I need to know your prologue.”
Bandit leaped over his legs, then skidded to a clumsy stop against her legs and crouched down for his next attack on the string. His tiny, furry head bobbed back and forth, following his prey.
“I think it’s bullshit for a grown man to blame his parents for making him an ass. My past doesn’t matter. At some point, you need to be responsible for yourself.”
“It does, Sam. It matters to me.”
“Why?”
“So I can forgive you and—”
Bandit pounced.
Sam scooped him up and let him bite his thumb. He looked sideways at Ally. “And what?”
“And—are you sleeping with Eloisa? Is she in there?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He was going to make her say it. She closed her eyes. “Because I don’t want her to be.” Bandit climbed onto her lap and settled down for another pounce.
“Why?” he asked again. His voice had gone husky, and Bandit reconsidered his attack, backing away with his tail down.
“Because I thought we had something more important.”
His eyes fixed on hers. “Do we?”
“Did you have a stutter as a kid?” she asked. “Have an abusive mother? Were you stolen by pirates at twelve or raised by wolves?”
“Bears. But we hung with the wolves on Friday nights. Ally, listen, because this is important. I don’t want to be forgiven. I do what I do because it’s what I want to do. I’m here because I want to be here. I am who I am, and I don’t make excuses for it. And if I want to change, I’ll change because I want to. Digging into my past is useless. Take me for who I am and trust me.”
“Tell me one story. Just one. Make it up,” she practically begged.
“Why? So that you can feel sorry for me? I don’t think so. I will not be pitied.” She must have looked at him like he was a lost puppy dog, because his voice grew more serious. “What if I was married and then widowed within a year? What if my parents disowned me for marrying down? So what? I’m a grown man. I am responsible for my actions.”
Ally shook her head. “I’m a grown woman, and I’m terrified that my mother is waiting for me in Lewiston.”
“Well, yes, but you’re a woman.”
She was starting to get it. To get him. “Ah, so if you were a woman you could feel emotion and admit that you’ve been hurt?” Married? Widowed? Disowned? Sam? Was that true, or had he made it up as an example of a romance-novel tortured hero?
“I’m not hurt!” he insisted. “Ouch!” He pulled his thumb away from Bandit and a drop of blood appeared where he had bit him. “Are you two teaming up on me?”
“You’re not going to tell me anything?”
“Ally, my past is past. What matters is that you came to me in the middle of the night because you were jealous of another woman and now you should kiss me; you should be overcome with passion; you should forget the past. What matters is what we feel and do here, now.”
She wanted to feel and do it here, now. But something held her back. His midnight stubble, dark on his chin and cheeks, seemed to grow even darker as she watched him.
“Don’t say it,” he warned.
“What?”
“What you were going to say.”
“I have to get back,” she began.
He hit the wal
l with his fist, startling the cat. “You said it. Damn it. You’ve gotten nowhere, Ally. It’s like day one. You feel me, you want me, and yet you don’t trust me.”
“I left my grandmother alone. I have to go back.” She stood.
“Ally, don’t come to me in the middle of the night again unless you intend to follow through.”
And with that, he scooped up Bandit in one hand, went inside, and shut the door behind him.
Granny Donny awoke and sat bolt upright. Where was she? Some kind of hotel. The bed next to her was empty but used, as if someone had gotten up in the middle of the night.
She felt uncomfortable. Something was on her head. Granny Donny pulled it off.
She had been sleeping in a hat? Who wore hats to bed? Especially little, white frilly ones?
Her head hurt and she felt immensely tired, so she sank back into her covers. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt peaceful, as if things were going well.
Except that she smelled faintly of horse, which was odd.
She was so sleepy.
She’d figure it out in the morning.
In the end, a woman has only herself to count on.
—From The Dulcet Duke
Chapter 24
Sam slept with Eloisa.
Sam didn’t sleep with Eloisa.
Of course he didn’t. Wouldn’t Eloisa have come out into the hallway if she had been in Sam’s room? But then, maybe she had already left by the time Ally came with Bandit. Or maybe she was sound asleep, exhausted and naked in his bed.
Ally harrumphed as she finished her breakfast in the inn’s small dining room. She was the first one up, and she was glad to eat alone. Not that Ally had much of an appetite. The inn was so small, there was no way for Granny Donny to leave her room without Ally seeing her.
Ally had woken up that morning furious with herself for not going through with what she had intended with Sam. But what had she intended? That he’d break down and admit he had a wounded soul and that was what made him behave the way he did?
But then, didn’t he sort of admit he was wounded by denying it? Wasn’t that classic rogue behavior right there? Married. Disowned. Widowed. That was intense if it was true. She picked at her oatmeal in despair. The past doesn’t matter. Was it that easy to forget the past? Then why couldn’t she?
No, he was full of it. He had no idea how to face the fact that life had scarred him and left him a man who had no idea how to love.
She wasn’t the only one blowing this big-time.
She had to get more details. Find out more. And now that she saw how reluctant he was to play along, she had no idea how she’d do that. Especially now that she’d made him mad.
Granny Donny got dressed and left her room at the same moment Sam closed his own door. He turned and faced her and his jaw dropped. “Lady Giordano!” She was wearing a black Dior suit—totally modern. She wasn’t even wearing gloves.
“Lady?” She harrumphed. “Who are you?” she asked.
“Who am I? Duke Whatthehell.”
“What the hell?”
“Exactly. Oh my God. You’re back.” He was amazed.
“What is going on here, young man?”
Sam took her arm. “It is so nice to meet you. Come into my room. We have to talk.”
She glanced at him. “You think I’d go into a strange man’s room?” Then she lowered her eyes and batted her eyelashes. “Although, you are a rather attractive strange man.”
“Why, thank you. But we better just talk, for Ally’s sake.”
“Oh, delightful!” That seemed to convince her. She marched to his room, giving him a sideways stare when he bowed her inside. “So, how are you involved with my granddaughter? Carnally, I hope!”
He told her the whole story and she listened, astonished. When he told her the part about Ally’s parents waiting at the house, she gasped. “But they can’t be at the house!”
“Ally thinks they might be.”
“Why?”
“You told her they were.”
“But you just said yourself I was mad as a hatter.”
He shrugged. “Ally believes what she wants to believe. She’s a little hard to sway.”
Granny Donny shook her head. “Oh, the poor dear.”
“So who is at the house?” Sam asked.
“How should I know? I have a company handle it. I only pay attention to the checks. Although, come to think of it, I don’t pay much attention to them either.”
He explained to her about the lack of records.
“Oh. My. Well, it’s a great mystery for all of us.”
They looked at each other for a moment, unsure what to do next.
“So, do you love her?” Donatella asked.
Sam was startled. “I do.” Oh. Now he was even more startled. Had he really said that? I love her.
He did.
“So it’s settled.”
“Nothing is settled.” He felt another wave of anger like the anger he felt last night. “She won’t have me. She thinks I’m a rogue, like her father. And she doesn’t want to be like her mother.”
“More than she knows,” Donatella murmured. Then she said, “Wait, did you say rogue?”
He smiled. “The Dulcet Duke. Like I said, we’ve been sort of caught up in the early nineteenth century.”
She eyed him. “So you haven’t been sleeping together?” Granny Donny seemed aghast at his deficiency.
He felt the absurd need to defend himself. “We, um, we have, Ally and I—slept together. But not exactly.”
“And I’m the one who was supposed to be nuts?” Donatella mumbled. “I suppose you’ll explain that nonsense?”
So he did.
“I see. Well, then we have to keep on with the book.”
“We do?” he asked.
“Well, of course we do. If Ally is too stupid to sleep with you as herself”—she gave him a once-over worthy of a true connoisseur—“then we have to keep pushing her along. I better change back into my costume. And you better run off ahead with the housemaid.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Ally did come to my room last night.”
“To talk! Young man, you go off with the housemaid and let me worry about the princess.”
Someone was coming down the stairs to the kitchen. Ally hoped for Sam. But it was Eloisa. Alone. She looked awfully happy as she joined Ally at her table. “Good morning!” she sang, tucking herself demurely into the seat.
Ally sniffed, wondering if she’d be able to pick up the scent of Sam. All she could smell was bacon cooking in the kitchen. Which was good, because sniffing the hired help was decidedly nuts. “Morning.”
Eloisa scanned the menu as Ally scanned her for bite marks. She didn’t see any. She glanced under the table to see if she could spot tiny claw marks on Eloisa’s ankle.
“Sleep well?” Ally couldn’t help but ask.
“Lovely!” Eloisa cooed. “This is turning out to be a much more fun job than I expected.” She signaled Mrs. Maltez to the table and ordered a full, post-awesome-sex-worthy breakfast of rice, beans, eggs, sausage, and coffee. Extra hot sauce.
Ally looked down at her lumpy oatmeal. She gulped her coffee, trying not to want to pour the hot liquid on Eloisa’s head. She badly wanted to fire her, but she just as badly wanted Eloisa to go ahead to the house so she could report back on what she found there. “So,” Ally said finally, trying to appear cordial. “Did Bandit bother you last night?”
“Oh, Bandit wasn’t with me last night,” she said, accepting her coffee. “I can’t abide cats. Terribly allergic.”
“Good.”
Eloisa gave her a strange look.
“I mean, I’m glad you slept well. Good.” Or was it bad? Ally had no idea.
Mateo drove Paula slowly out of Hempstead while Ally repeated to herself: What do I care if Sam went on ahead with Eloisa in the car? Who could blame him? She hadn’t exactly given him a reason to stay with her.
But as the carriage glided behind P
aula’s slow gait, Ally wished she hadn’t let Sam go. She should have stopped him. The trip wasn’t the same without him. She wanted to play twenty questions with him. She wanted to jump in fountains with him. She wanted to tell him facts about the history of Long Island so that he could tell her to can it with the lectures and then kiss her.
She missed him.
“Ally, dear, you’re a million miles away,” Granny Donny said. “Are you thinking of the duke?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” She turned her attention to her grandmother. She looked different somehow, more jaunty and full of life. “You look good. I’m so glad you started taking those pills again.”
“Oh, fiddle-dee-dee,” Granny Donny said. Then her tone changed and Ally could swear she was her old self again. She looked positively sneaky. “You have to get that man back.”
“Shouldn’t a gentlewoman wait for the man to make the moves?” Ally asked.
Granny Donny snorted. “Gentlewoman. Ally, don’t be a prude. There is nothing wrong with a rogue that a real woman can’t fix.”
“Granny!”
Paula turned a corner, and Ally could see Mateo trying to hide a smile.
“It’s not true,” Ally insisted. “Mom couldn’t tame Dad. She threw her life away.”
Granny Donny flinched. She watched Ally for a long moment, then said, “You mean she threw you away.”
“No. She threw everything away.”
“How can you know that? She gave her life for love. That’s not throwing everything away,” Granny Donny said, her voice heavy with emotion.
Before Ally could respond, her cell phone rang.
She held her breath and answered. “Sam?”
“Ally. We got to the house.”
Ally’s stomach clenched. “And?”
“I’m sorry, Ally. Your parents aren’t here,” he said.
She waited for her world to go black, but it didn’t. In fact, she wanted more of Sam’s voice, no matter what he said. This shocked her. How could she care more about a man she’d known a few weeks than about her own parents?
How to Tame a Modern Rogue Page 18