Lord Rogue

by Patricia Rice

  Alicia returned to the bed with a slice of last night’s forgotten pie. “It is not much of a breakfast,” she murmured. The small cot seemed even smaller beneath his broad-shouldered frame, and she could not believe she had spent the night lying beside him.

  Black eyes glittered as they discovered the hint of pink in her cheeks. She had not laughed at him this time, and he understood.

  Chapter 8

  They made a dramatic appearance on the riverbank at dawn; Travis with his arm draped over Alicia’s shoulder, and Alicia clinging to his waist for support, both too weak to manage the uncertain ground alone. The keelboatmen below, however, put an entirely different interpretation on the tableau, and a ragged cheer split the frosty morning air as they came into sight.

  “You’ll have to bear with it for a while, I fear,” Travis chuckled into her ear. “They’ll never believe the truth.”

  The loose sleeve of his shirt hid his swollen, blackened arm, but he favored it as he helped Alicia into the boat. Auguste leapt to take her hand, and sent two of the crew scurrying up the hill to fetch her trunk. He cast his captain a look askance, but Travis merely shrugged and watched as Alicia disappeared into the privacy of the cabin. They had come closer these last days, but she still shied away from men. It would take a long time to undo the work of that animal who called himself a gentleman.

  By the time the boat got under way, word of Travis’s recovery from snakebite had swept through the crew. The first hint Alicia had of it was the sound of her name from the deck. Startled, she opened the door of her room to listen and caught the sound again. From here she could hear the men chanting in time to their poling as usual, but this time her name seemed to be a part of the chant.

  Curious, she tiptoed to the door of the long cabin to listen, and discovered Travis grinning like a possum as he watched the crew at work. She would have darted back to safety, but he caught her movement and dragged her out to sit on a bale in the sunshine.

  “You’ve been immortalized in song, Mrs. Stanford.” He lounged against the wall beside her, seemingly at ease, but his sharp eyes scanned the river ahead for obstructions.

  “So it seems. I’m not certain I’m following the lyrics.” The name “Lonetree” seemed to come into play, but Alicia had heard them sing about their captain before. Now that she could hear the chant better, she blushed.

  “Well, it’s safe to say you figure as a cure for copperhead bites, but let’s not go into the details of how you do it.” Travis gazed down at her with amusement as she reddened more. “Were you always such a prude, Mrs. Stanford?”

  “My mother raised me to be a lady, Mr. Travis. I had no hint of what the rest of the world was like.”

  Some of his smile slipped away, and his bronzed countenance grew thoughtful. “Perhaps we ought to drop this ‘Mr.’ and ‘Mrs.’ bit. You can go back to being Miss Stanford when we reach St. Louis.”

  She had chosen a sky-blue woolen gown to wear this day instead of her usual black, and he was looking at her as if she was beautiful and not pale and sickly. Her cheeks colored more. “With this chant traveling up and down the river, I had better find a new name entirely. Else, if I should find my father, he will have us both horsewhipped.”

  Travis looked alarmed. “Is he normally a violent man?”

  Alicia laughed. “No. Perhaps if he had been, he would have stayed in Philadelphia, and Mama would have run away. But Papa is mild-mannered, very gentle, at least, with me. Only, he would be disappointed if he thought I’d behaved less than a lady.”

  “If he is a kind man, why did he desert his wife and daughter?”

  Alicia leaned against the cabin wall and turned her face to absorb the sun’s rays. She would be as weathered as Travis if she kept this up, but the sun and air felt good. She felt the blood stir in her veins for the first time in months.

  “My father and mother did not get along. I was too young to understand, but knowing what I do now, I suspect my mother did not return his affections, if you understand me.”

  Travis grinned. “And just how much do you know about affection, Blue Eyes?”

  Alicia glared, then glanced away. In this light, in command of a crew and boat, his hair tied neatly, Travis was strikingly handsome. Well, perhaps not exactly handsome, but strong and almost unbearably masculine. Still, she held her ground, avoiding his implications.

  “I know enough to expect very little of it. I suppose my mother loved me, but she made my life hell with her lectures on the evils of men, meaning my father. And I know my father loved me, but he left me, and then forgot about me. I have not heard from him in five years or more. And certainly whatever made my parents marry does not show a good example of sensibility, whether affection can be blamed for that or not.”

  “I begin to understand you,” Travis replied. “Love is rather a fragile thing, it seems. My parents must have loved each other very much to do what they did, but it obviously wasn’t enough to overcome the obstacles. Perhaps just a good, healthy respect for each other would be wiser.”

  Alicia’s mouth bent into a wide smile. “That would destroy the writers of ballads and romances. How can you write about the devastating effects of respect?”

  Travis grinned in appreciation of her riposte. He avoided replying by leaping to the cabin roof to shout orders at a lackadaisical crewman in the rear.

  In the days that followed, Travis did not press his suit or apply any other pressure, but Alicia was constantly aware of his presence. He would appear to share a biscuit with her at breakfast, stop to comment on her reading material when she sought a sunny spot on deck, and ate his dinner at her side, regaling her with tales of the river. She came to accept, and then enjoy, his company once she learned he presented no threat to her well-being.

  Although he often strode about the deck in bare feet and shirt sleeves, Travis appeared less the river pirate than before. The fact that he seemed all muscle and sinew even when he crouched beside her, idly whittling some stick, made Alicia uneasy, but she attempted to disregard her distrust of his masculinity. He made no attempt to extend the familiarity that had sprung up between them, and their only physical contact was the occasional brush of hands. Someone else apparently tended to his arm, and Alicia gradually relaxed her guard.

  The river had risen with the earlier rains, and there was no further need to portage. Alicia’s strength began to return with the days of enforced idleness until she almost wished for the opportunity to stop along the banks and walk awhile. Travis’s cautiousness wouldn’t allow it, however. He docked on islands whenever he could, or at the base of cliffs where they could not be reached from shore. His explanations of the unsatisfactory treaty talks with Tecumseh and his Shawnees did not satisfy Alicia’s restlessness, but she bowed to his greater wisdom in this. The incident with the Indian and the owl had been sufficient to convince her there could be a brave behind every tree and two squaws behind each rock.

  They passed by the settlement at Red Banks without stopping. Alicia studied the crudely built cabins and wondered in despair if St. Louis would resemble this collection of hovels. The isolation frightened her, striking too close to the loneliness that haunted her dreams. She had left behind everything and everyone she knew and loved, and the future loomed impossibly bleak if she had only herself to shape it.

  That evening, when they made camp on an island rather larger than most, Travis allowed the crew to go ashore. Noting his passenger’s reluctance to join them, he frowned.

  Carrying a half empty bottle of wine, Travis caught Alicia’s elbow, helping her from the boat to the ground. Without the need to call herself a widow any longer, she had begun wearing some of the lighter hues from her trunk. For the cool October air she had chosen a coppery velvet that clung to her too-slender body. She had covered the low neckline with a heavy shawl of shimmering bronzes, successfully concealing what the gown had been meant to reveal. The slender skirt made climbing from the boat tricky, however, and Travis was rewarded for his efforts with the
glimpse of a stockinged ankle.

  “I trust you’re wearing those long, frilly things under that skirt, Blue Eyes. There’s a nip in the air tonight,” Travis whispered in her ear.

  Alicia blushed crimson and attempted to brush off his helping hand, but Travis cheerfully kept his hold as he guided her toward the fire. He knew how to be patient, but he also knew what to do when his prey sensed danger and was about to flee. It was time to move upwind.

  The campfire had been kindled within a circle of trees, out of sight of the river. They had stopped early this evening, before the sun set, and there had been time to catch a few squirrels and rabbits to add to their stew. Alicia’s stomach growled, but she held herself straight and silent at his side.

  Travis couldn’t refrain from darting her a look of curiosity. “Are you feeling well?”

  “I am fine.” Diverting his attention from herself, Alicia questioned, “Why did we stop so early?”

  Travis kicked an old log closer to the fire and helped her to sit on it. “I don’t want to pass Cave-in-Rock at twilight. I prefer dawn, when the occupants are deep in drunken stupor. The sheriff was said to have run off the last lot, but there’s always some lowlife looking for a hidey-hole. I’ll not take any chances.” Travis sat beside her.

  He commanded a cup and partially filled it with wine. She accepted the cup and continued her polite drawing room conversation. “You are saying there may be outlaws ahead?”

  “River’s full of them, but Cave-in-Rock has the worst reputation. It’s wilderness. There’s no real law to hold them. And they can spot a boat for miles before it arrives. We won’t look real appealing to them. Too many men and too little cargo. They prefer easy pickings, greenhorns with no guns and all their worldly possessions.” And women, but Travis had sense enough not to mention that. He meant to keep her well out of sight until they passed those dangerous straits.

  Alicia accepted his confidence and tried not to worry. Travis had steered them safely thus far.

  The wine provided a glow of heat in her empty stomach. She took the bowl of stew offered and concentrated on it instead of the half-Indian keelboatmen beside her. Alicia did not edge away, but she was very aware of the muscular thigh stretched out beside her and the broadness of the shoulders rubbing hers. Travis seemed unaware of their proximity as he ate. She was grateful he wore his fringed jacket. The thick deerskin seemed to provide a barrier of decency between them.

  “You said you were thinking of settling in St. Louis. What will you do there?” she asked.

  Darkness had descended and all Alicia could see of his face was the dancing reflections of the fire on bronzed skin over sharp cheekbones and high forehead. Still, she knew he laughed at her question.

  “A place like St. Louis offers plenty of opportunities. I’ll just nose around a little until I find something comfortable. But I’m not much of a city man. Sooner or later I’d like to look into land. They say Kentucky is the best place for raising horses, but just down the river can’t be too bad. And it’s open territory. A man could put roots down and grow with the place.”

  Alicia couldn’t understand his laughter. His goal sounded quite sensible in a roundabout way. She was unprepared for the proprietary hand that touched her chin and tilted her head up until dark eyes burned into hers.

  “I’d not take a wife unless I could afford to keep her. It won’t be Philadelphia, but it will be a place for a lady. Don’t fret about the future.”

  His callused hand grazed her cheek, and Alicia jerked her head away, inexplicable tears welling in her eyes. “You presume too much,” she said huskily.

  “I presume nothing at all. I work for what I want.” Travis bit into his bread, leaving her to think what she would.

  Had she dared to return to the boat alone in the dark, Alicia would have walked off and left him. Instead she continued to listen to the raucous tales of the crewmen while sipping on the wine. The wine gave her strength. She had a will as great as His Arrogance. He could not force her to do anything she did not want to do, except physically, of course. But she was beginning to realize Travis would not use physical force on her, and part of her fears slipped away. Since that day Teddy had attacked her, she had lived in terror of so many things. It was nice to discard one and meet this man on equal terms.

  As one of the men offered her a second cup of wine and she accepted, she heard Travis chuckle. Instantly suspicious, Alicia swung her head to glare at him. He clinked his tin cup against hers.

  “Never let it be said that I did not warn you. That wine is a mite stronger than you’re accustomed to, I suspect.” With those words of caution he took another drink from his cup.

  Alicia grimaced. “I noticed. I was just trying to be polite.”

  Travis grinned at her honesty. “Would you have poured it on the ground while I wasn’t looking or politely drunk the whole thing?”

  Holding the cup up before her, Alicia stared at it in bemusement. Then with a rare grin she admitted, “Probably drunk the whole thing. By now, I’m beyond tasting it.”

  Travis took the cup from her hand and handed it to one of the crew. “I will remove temptation from both of us.” He stood and offered his hand. “Walk with me?”

  With the fire at his back, his face fell into shadow, and Alicia could read nothing of his expression. With the wine still giving her strength, she accepted the offer.

  “How can you always be polite?” he inquired once they were out of sight.

  In the darkness, when she did not have to see his broad shoulders and masculine frame, Alicia lost all fear. She considered his question with interest. “Habit, I suppose. Is that bad?”

  “No, I suppose not. It makes life go more smoothly, avoids confrontations, something I’m notoriously bad at doing,” Travis thought out loud. “Out here it is probably less important than in the city where you have to deal with so many people all the time, but it is a nice habit. It is one of those things that make it more pleasant to escort a lady.”

  Alicia smiled wryly. “You prefer ladies who politely drink your wine into drunken stupors?”

  He chuckled. “That too. And a lady is less likely to scream and slap and kick. A cold shoulder offers a certain amount of challenge.”

  Alicia laughed softly, a sound so fragile the song of a tree frog nearly drowned it. “If you behaved as a gentleman, it would not be necessary for women to kick, slap, and scream.”

  “The habit of being a gentleman is not so well ingrained in me,” Travis admitted cheerfully. “I am a man first and a gentleman as an afterthought. If you live out here long enough, you will learn to be a woman first. The instinct for survival is greater than the need for civilization.”

  Pensively Alicia released his arm, using both hands to lift her skirts and avoid his touch. “There are times when I’m not certain I am a woman at all.”

  She had been told often enough that she was a bluestocking, cold and uncaring, and she had certainly been trained for the part. While other girls learned the etiquette of coquetry, she had been encouraged to stay home with her mother and her books. She had never learned to attract a man’s attentions and had never felt any desire to do so. That there might be something wrong with her was just one of her many fears.

  Travis caught her elbow, and swung her around to face him. “Oh, I don’t think there is any reason to doubt you are a woman,” he replied before sliding his arm around her waist and drawing her against him. “Shall I prove it?”

  He gave her no time to reply or protest. Warm lips closed over hers, silencing her words. Alicia tasted the wine on his breath, and smelled the aroma of smoke from the campfire. She pressed her palms against his chest, but his heat through the thin linen alarmed her as much as the pressure of his hands at the small of her back. Only the gentleness of his kiss kept her from succumbing to panic. His mouth moved tenderly along hers, inviting response, not demanding. Alicia felt her heart pounding beneath her rib cage, but some of his warmth seeped into her veins. Her fingers curl
ed against his shirt as her lips began to respond.

  The taste of wine was sweet and tempting, but Travis dared not sample too deeply of this forbidden liquor. Even as he felt the heady victory of her kiss, he sensed the tension forming along her spine. Before she could flee his grasp, he released her lips and pressed a kiss to her forehead. His hands continued to stroke the supple length of her back.

  Her head came up past his chin and the sweet scent of her hair sent another surge of excitement through Travis. He had thought to have seduced her by now. This prolonged abstinence had come as an unexpected blow, but he could endure it. He would not cause her pain if it could be avoided.

  “I warned you I was no gentleman.” He spoke first, taking the offensive.

  Alicia stepped from his hold, pulling her shawl more tightly about her. “You are more of a gentleman than some I know.” The bitterness was clear. She covered it by taking a step toward the boat. “I can find my own way back.”

  Travis did not allow it, of course, but escorted her properly to the silent keelboat. As he helped her aboard, moonlight illuminated the sharp angles of his cheeks and the high planes of his forehead, accenting the blue-black smoothness of his thick hair, and Alicia had to check a gasp of pleasure. In this light, against the primitive backdrop of trees, he was one with the beauty of the night. Shakily, she had to remember he was a man and not a painting, and she vowed never to sample his wine again.

  Chapter 9

  Alicia listened to the lapping of the river against the boat’s hull and shivered in the eerie early morning silence. The keelboat moved with the current under the guidance of an unusually quiet crew. Travis had ordered her to stay below and the men to hold their tongues until they passed the notorious outlaw hideout. Alicia fretted at this confinement, but in truth, she was not certain she was ready to meet Travis face-to-face this morning.