Lord Rogue

by Patricia Rice

  Alicia blushed and attempted to disappear into the shadows. “She doesn’t even know me,” she protested.

  Travis shrugged and continued with his tasks, keeping his gaze averted. Now that she was up and about, he had great difficulty not reaching for her. “This isn’t a very populated area and the women stick together. You’ll find it different from back East.”

  “I wish I could thank her.” Wistfully Alicia drifted from the shadows to catch a drop of syrup oozing from the crust. “Will the boat be ready in the morning?” She unthinkingly licked the syrup from her finger.

  Smiling at this childish gesture, Travis broke off a piece of the crust and sampled it. “I thanked the lady prodigiously and assured her I would take excellent care of you. And yes, the boat will be here in the morning.”

  Alicia moved to the fire and stirred the broth. While she had been ill, the barrier between them had disappeared, but now the tension returned.

  “The soup is ready if you like. It is not much, I know, but with the pie . . .” She gestured.

  “Actually, I wasn’t expecting anything at all. I didn’t know ladies could cook.”

  Alicia swung around, apparently ready to rip him apart for the insult, but he smiled and she tore her gaze away. “Your friend’s wife must have had a lovely garden. There are herbs out there that couldn’t have grown wild.” She turned back to spoon soup into a battered bowl.

  She was so very vulnerable, and the longing in him was so unbearably strong, that Travis could think of no good reply. Life was going to be pure hell these next weeks.

  “Let me bring in some more kindling before dark, then we’ll see what Eleanor’s herbs and a lady’s cooking can do.” He strode out whistling, fully expecting a pot to be thrown at the back of his head. He would enjoy a good, rousing fight if he were to be denied the pleasure of lovemaking.

  She disappointed him, but that didn’t matter. He fully intended to find out if she were as cold as she tried to appear; it would just take longer than he had planned. Besides, if he wanted to marry her, it would take different tactics than just wooing her to his bed. If he had done nothing else in this world, he had learned patience. He would take all the time necessary to make this a successful engagement.

  A chill had returned to the air when Travis reached the woodpile by the creek. He kicked at the weathered logs, warning any hidden vermin of his intentions, but his mind was wholly on the woman waiting in the cabin. He tried to picture her warm and willing in his arms instead of cold and aloof and jumping nervously every time he approached. He smiled at the image and bent to pick up the nearest log.

  A sharp sting of pain rocketed through his hand, and with incredulity Travis stared into the beady eyes of the copper-scaled serpent with its fangs sunk firmly into the broad base of his thumb. A second later his knife flashed and the snake slithered to the ground, but already the venom burned trails of fire through his veins.

  Alicia heard his shout and flew to the door, visions of rampaging Indians and man-eating bears leaping to mind. What she saw nearly terrified her as much, for she had come to think of Travis as an indestructible giant, invulnerable to the hazardous world she feared. To see him with his face pale beneath the bronzed tan, fingers rigidly clasping a swollen, bleeding hand, sent her into momentary shock.

  But only momentary. The cold, clear, calculating mind that had brought her this far served her well now. The anger in his eyes startled her, but she ignored it in the presence of his obvious pain.

  “Snake?” she asked before he could offer explanations.

  Travis nodded. “I’ve cut it open and tried to suck the venom out, but it’s not enough. You’d better go fetch Auguste down at the river.”

  But she was already running back to the cabin, grabbing rags and a wooden spoon and a bucket. As Travis staggered in the doorway, she commanded, “Keep that arm down! Sit there.” She pointed at the cabin’s only chair.

  When he fell into it, she wrapped the rag around his arm, knotted the long-handled spoon into it, and began to twist until Travis nearly screamed with the pain.

  “What in hell are you doing!”

  “Cutting off the circulation. Hold it there while I get some water from the well. I had to break the ice on it this morning, so it can’t be too warm.” Alicia picked up the bucket and hurried out the door.

  When Alicia returned, she rolled up his shirt-sleeve and dashed his hand into the icy water, numbing it to the elbow.

  “I didn’t know freezing a man to death cured snakebite,” Travis muttered through clenched teeth.

  “I don’t know, either, but it sounds sensible. One of my suitors in Philadelphia was a doctor, and he preached this theory about blood to anyone who would listen. He said it goes around and around in the body and we can’t stop it, but things like cold will slow it, and he showed me how to tie a tourniquet in case I was ever in danger of bleeding to death. Now, hold still while I put these on.”

  Travis opened one eye and peered at her dubiously as she knelt beside him, until she produced two particularly nasty specimens of creek leeches from the bucket. “You’re out of your mind,” he protested. “Why didn’t you marry this brilliant fellow?”

  “He died,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Besides, he was married to his work. The cholera epidemic claimed him.”

  Alicia placed the slimy creatures down the inside of his arm where the veins sculpted his skin. His muscles tightened beneath her fingers until every sinew and tendon stood out.

  “My God, Alicia, I won’t have a drop of blood left in me.” Travis uttered the protest without conviction.

  He tried to open his eyes to watch her as she worked, but the pain apparently made him weak, and he rested it against the wall as he spoke. “Go to Auguste. He can be trusted. He will get you to St. Louis. Don’t delay. Shawnees are getting restless.”

  Tears rolled down Alicia’s cheeks as she loosened the tourniquet so his hand wouldn’t turn blue, then tightened it again. She sensed the pain in his abrupt phrases, and she raged at the fates. Perhaps Travis was not the best of men. She suspected he drank too much, fought too much, and frequented the wrong sort of women, but he was not a bad man. Remembering the gentleness of those broad palms as they lifted her from the bed, helping her to sit, to dress, to eat, she touched his callused hand with tenderness. The leeches were beginning to swell with his poisoned blood, but it might already be too late. She knew so little of this cruel life, and her helplessness sent tears streaming down her cheeks.

  When Travis began to slide from the chair, Alicia helped him to the bed, carefully keeping the injured hand hanging down. The soup over the fire bubbled, but the fire under it would die soon enough. Her only concern lay in the man tossing restlessly on the bed. She had to keep him still until as much of the poison was drawn from his body as was possible.

  She tried kneeling and holding his hand down in the icy bucket of water, but even in pain he was stronger than she. While Travis drifted in and out of consciousness, he fought for possession of the hand, tearing it from her grasp and rubbing it, cursing incoherently.

  On the verge of frustrated tears as he knocked off newly placed leeches, Alicia sat on the edge of the bed so he couldn’t reach the arm hanging over the side. His big body left little room for her on the narrow pallet, but she succeeded in calming him to some extent.

  In one of his lucid moments Travis opened his eyes to find her nearly perched on top of him, and he managed a half grin. “Lie down, Alicia. Don’t hover over me like an anxious vulture.”

  “You say those things on purpose to make me angry, don’t you?” she inquired with curiosity, bending to inspect her handiwork and loosen the tourniquet some more.

  “You box everything inside. It’s not natural.” Travis closed his eyes again. “Lie down. I can’t hurt you, and if I’m to die, I’d like to die with a woman in my arms.”

  His soft insistence tugged at a chord in Alicia’s heart, and she glanced down at his angular face, finding nothing
to fear in the pain-racked features.

  “And your boots on,” she finished for him, not without a touch of irony.

  “Lie down.” Travis tugged her arm with his good hand, pulling her down toward him. When she capitulated, curling in the narrow space he left at the edge of the bed, he smiled in satisfaction, even though a spasm of pain rocked through him.

  “You’ve never shared a bed with a man, have you?” It was more statement than question, and Travis heard the sharp intake of her breath, but to keep his senses, he had to focus on something. She held his interest more than any other topic.

  “No,” Alicia said curtly.

  “I thought ladies didn’t go out unchaperoned with gentlemen.” His voice began to fade, but Travis struggled to keep conscious.

  “It was just a Sunday afternoon ride,” Alicia whispered into his shoulder, apparently understanding to what he referred without being told. “We’d known each other forever.”

  “You were engaged?” His tongue felt thick and dry, but Travis led her on, determined to have the story.

  “No.” Alicia’s voice was so low she almost spoke to herself. “He’d asked me, but I was in mourning for my mother, and I told him I couldn’t make any decisions like that. But he kept asking, insisting. I almost gave in. I had other suitors, and everyone said I should decide. With my mother gone, I was alone in the house. Except for the servants.”

  She was avoiding the subject, but telling Travis more than she knew. She was as alone as he in this world and disliking it just as much. He said nothing, but let her talk without interruption.

  The words poured faster. “Teddy took me out, made me forget. My mother always told me the only men interested in me were the ones who wanted money, but Teddy’s family was wealthy.”

  Travis grunted in protest.

  “I scared men away,” she insisted. “They called me a bluestocking behind my back, and perhaps I was. But that’s better than being a fool.”

  “Not arguing,” he muttered, urging her to continue.

  She sighed. “Teddy made me nervous, but I thought he was my friend. I didn’t see any harm in driving out with him. That’s all I did wrong. Why did that give him the right to do what he did? Call me those names?”

  Her voice broke, and Travis roused himself to stroke her hair and hug her closer. Anger boiled in his veins again, and it felt good. He wanted to rip this Teddy’s head off and parade it on a pike. My God, she couldn’t be much more than twenty now. She had been just a child, one who had just lost her mother and was desperately looking for a way to turn, and that bastard had ripped the rug right out from under her.

  “He was a polecat, Alicia. Forget him. You did nothing wrong.” He croaked the words, hoping she understood. He could feel her tears dampening his shirt.

  “But I must have!” She choked back a sob. “He told me I’d teased him long enough, and he would settle the matter once and for all. I screamed, but we were miles from anywhere. I must have hit my head when he pushed me down in the seat, because I don’t remember how he—”

  She gulped, unable to relate the swiftness of events, remembering only finding her skirts thrown up to her waist, and his nakedness pushing against her. She barely had time to scream and try to escape when he had torn at her innocence with a viciousness that still made her cry with anguish. The pain stayed with her, and the humiliation as the hairy beast shoved and groped at her most private parts. By the time he reached his final convulsions, she had been rigid with disgust as much as pain.

  “He sounds like a desperate, weak man, Alicia. I know men, believe me. It wasn’t your fault.”

  His voice seemed somehow stronger, and Alicia raised up on one elbow to gaze down at his face. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was set in a grim, bitter line, but his skin burned beneath her touch.

  “He thought I would have to marry him.” She lay down again, secure in her position beneath his arm. “But I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t even see him again. I went to stay with Aunt Clara and told the servants to say I was not at home. And when I knew . . . when I knew there would be a child, I put the house up for sale, packed my bags, and left. Aunt Clara thought I’d taken leave of my senses, but she took care of everything for me. When everything is sold, she’ll send the money where I direct her. Don’t overcharge me, Travis, I’m living on a slim budget until then.”

  A hint of his usual grin played about the corners of Travis’s mouth. “Don’t lie to me, paleface squaw. Petticoats don’t weigh as much as yours. I could have robbed you blind and thrown you in the river.”

  He sounded so much better, Alicia grew suspicious, but his skin still burned with unnatural heat, and his hand and arm had swollen to twice their natural size. She leaned over the side of the bed and loosened the tourniquet again. It would have to come off soon, but not all at once.

  When she settled back down beside him, he seemed to sleep, and she made no reply. He could have done just what he said, and she probably wouldn’t have cared. She had wanted to die, but not any longer. She would make him live, too, and then they would be even. Then she could feel free to smack that self-satisfied smirk off his face.

  She dozed off and on throughout the night, waking to release the tourniquet and replace the leeches. Travis lay still beside her, only his shallow, uneven breathing telling her he clung to life. She prayed as she had never prayed before. Somehow, out here among nature’s best and worst, God seemed closer, more real. She needed the hand of God now and not another death to haunt her dreams.

  The violence and self-loathing that had haunted her nights had retreated to some dark corner of her soul. If she could just survive this, return this man’s life, she would face a new future. The madness would be gone. She made a bargain with God, promising this and more as the night wore on.

  The last of the leeches fell off before daybreak, whether poisoned or satiated, Alicia could not discern. She had removed the tourniquet entirely, and his arm seemed less swollen than before, but it could be her imagination. She repressed any suggestion of relief. Whatever the day held, he did not need her to hold him any longer. Gathering her skirts, she prepared to rise.

  Travis’s hand caught her by the arm, holding her in place. “Stay.” The word whispered through the darkness, barely disturbing the pre-dawn silence.

  “You must be uncomfortable.” Alicia touched his forehead, finding it slightly cooler.

  “Never. Now I can say I’ve spent the night in your bed.” The words were whispered, but still carried a hint of a grin.

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Won’t have to. Just smile knowingly when accused.”

  “Travis! You promised!” Angry, worried, she lifted herself up to glare at his closed face. The darkness prevented her from seeing much beyond his bent nose and dark hair.

  “Don’t you ever get lonely?” he asked unexpectedly, opening his eyes and staring up at her.

  Realizing he was only taunting her, she lay down and curled next to his warmth. The fire had finally died out. “Yes, of course, especially now,” she whispered, thinking of the emptiness within where once there had been life. Even a life bred by violence was better than no life at all.

  “So do I.”

  “Have you ever loved anyone?” The darkness seemed to encourage honesty, and she would know more of this stranger who knew more of her than any other human being.

  “I thought so, but she married another. She was young, very quiet and shy. I was ready to become part of the tribe, part of my mother’s people, but even Indians can be snobs. Her parents didn’t think I was good enough. I left after that. There didn’t seem much point in staying.”

  Alicia lay against his shoulder and contemplated his words. She had not given much thought to Travis as a person, as a human being capable of emotion. He was just the indispensable guide who would lead her to a new life. But remembering all she had seen of him, the drunken Indian, the imposing gentleman, the keelboat captain, and the gentle man who had nursed her to health, sh
e realized she had been selfishly blind. How must it feel to be half Indian, half white, and rejected by both races? Is that why there was such a ring of irony in his laughter, why even his jests hid secret hurts? He was nothing like the men she knew back home.

  “So you’ve never stayed anywhere long, since,” she guessed.

  “Not until now. After I sell off the cargo, I mean to look around for a place. I want land around me, but not wilderness. Some of my people have settled in Missouri. St. Louis is a good place to start looking. Marry me and I promise to become a respectable businessman.”

  Amused, Alicia touched his forehead again, testing for fever. “You think you will live so long?”

  In answer, Travis wrapped his injured arm around her waist and held her in place while his good hand brought her head down to his. His lips were warm and caressing, seeking and not demanding, and Alicia did not fear them. Gently she returned the kiss, liking the sensation, but not daring more.

  At the first sign of resistance Travis released her. “I aim to live, Blue Eyes.”

  She rose from the bed, feeling the morning coldness where she’d been warm.

  “I have every intention of making myself a wealthy and respectable citizen of St. Louis,” he continued, despite her departure. “So you may as well agree to marry me now and save ourselves a lot of trouble.”

  Alicia bent over the fire, hiding the burning in her cheeks. He had made the same outrageous proposal to Babette; he meant nothing by it, but it gave her food for thought. She had thought to live in St. Louis as a respectable widow, but now she had no need to do that. She could teach as she had always wanted to do. But if she could not find her father, she was as much at the mercies of her surroundings as she had been in Philadelphia. More so. Then she had been a respectable virgin with the opportunity to choose among many suitors. Now she could marry no man for fear he would despise her for what had happened. And she could not endure the degradation of the marriage bed in any case.

  But Travis knew her past and did not care. Other men would leave her alone if they thought she belonged to him. Only the belonging part needed defining. Perhaps he would be satisfied with the respectability of her company. Perhaps—sometime far in the future—if he wanted children, she could suffer through that act just once more. She knew very little about children, but men seemed to want them.