Highroad

by Jeanie P Johnson

  “I wanted to talk to you,” she muttered.

  “Really? This must be important, if you have sought me out, and so early in the morning!” He knew she had gotten about as much sleep as he had the night before, which was next to nothing, and from the looks of it, he believed her amount was nothing.

  “I couldn’t sleep.” she admitted. “I feel bad that I have been so rude to you, and won’t forgive you for your treatment of me, that night. So I have come to forgive you.”

  Grange looked closely into her eyes. Something must be wrong, if she was willing to forgive him so easily. “Sit down, Lavonia, and let me know what this is all about.”

  “I can’t sit down,” she said, as she began to pace the room, her heels making little tapping noises as she walked. “I need a solution to a problem,” she admitted.

  “What problem?” he asked.

  “I need a husband.” She said, bluntly. Stopping abruptly and facing him.

  What brought this on, Grange wondered? He knew it had something to do with the Irishman making love to her. “But you are in mourning. You can’t get married so soon,” he insisted. “And I thought you loathed the idea of getting married.”

  “I didn’t even know Max. I refuse to mourn him a day longer! And you are right, I do loath getting married. That is why I came to you.”

  “This is not making sense, Lavonia.”

  “You said once that you didn’t need a wife getting in your hair, bothering you all the time. What if she never bothered you?” she asked.

  “You mean a marriage in name only? Why would I ever want to do that?” he frowned.

  “Perhaps to save someone from ruin,” she murmured, not daring to look in his face.

  “What are you getting at, Lavonia? This is not like you.”

  “You asked me once to marry you,” she insisted. “I’d say yes, if you asked me again.”

  “But you would want it to be in name only. Why?” He looked deeply into her troubled eyes. She wanted to get out of being a highwayman, since he threatened to expose her. That must be it. And apparently she did not want to go to the Irishman, to keep from being exposed he told himself.

  “Because I cannot bare to have a man’s hands on me, and yet I need to be married.” When she said that, his heart sank. What happened to that woman of passion, he had been making love to last night? “I have no funds to support myself.” He drew his attention back to what she was saying. “As soon as Max’s mother dies, she will leave me with the house only. I hate that house. I need someone to support me and it might as well be you, considering you don’t have time for a wife, and you have been hounding me about it for years. You offered to be my lover once, but you don’t even like me, so I thought instead of a lover, perhaps you would be willing to be my pretend husband. I don’t have the stomach for a real husband, and you know it. You could keep frequenting your women of the night, and work on your paper without me bothering you about it. It seems a perfect solution.”

  “For you,” he said quietly. It was an insult. She not only hated him as Grange, but she hated him as the Irishman as well. Nothing he could do would ever change her opinion of him, or men, for that matter. She liked the way the Irishman touched her, but she felt guilty for liking it. She certainly would never warm to him as his wife, if she couldn’t warm to him as the Irishman. “If I ever do decide to marry, it will be to someone like Marybeth, who would be begging for a man’s touch.” He said in a strained voice. “If I ever broke down and got married, I would stop visiting the women of the night and focus my love making on my wife. Considering that may never happen, I am happy with the way my life is now.”

  Lavonia, stared at him, unbelieving he would not be willing to help her, after all the times he talked about her changing her mind about marrying him. Telling her he had held his breath for seven years, and could hold it a little longer. It had all been flirt and bother, the same way she led men on with her flirting, only to turn them down in the end. She was getting her own medicine. The truth glared her in the face. She had played right into his hands. He had been waiting for this moment so he could turn her down!

  She couldn’t believe he wanted a light brained woman like Marybeth as his wife, but she might have known, remembering the time he had kissed her, to show her what kissing was like. He wanted someone to simper at his touch. He knew she would never do that, and he was right. She had been out of her mind to think he would be happy to save her from her doom, because he was a gentleman.

  The moment he saw the look on her face, he wanted to take his words back, but it was too late. He knew he has lost her friendship forever. The only way he would have her now is as the Irishman, and she dreaded him touching her, no matter how good it may feel at the time. He was ruining her life and his own, he lamented to himself. He could stop being the Irishman, but she would continue with her highwayman endeavors and get herself shot, by either a policeman or a victim. Maybe he should just come clean and confess he was the Irishman, demanding she stop being a highwayman herself. But doing that would make her hate him more, and it wouldn’t stop her from doing what ever she pleased. She would do it to spite him, he was sure.

  “I’m sorry I bothered you,” she said quietly. “But I do forgive you, for what it’s worth. I mean about touching me like that.” It was nothing compared to how she had let the Irishman touch her, and continue to touch her, if she persisted in her highwayman occupation.

  “Lavonia, I’m sorry.” He started to reach for her, but she moved aside.

  “Don’t be,” she said stiffly. “You have finally returned my rejection of you. And to tell you the truth, I deserved it.” She went to the door, as his heart was breaking, watching her go to her carriage, while her shoulders shook. Lavonia was not that devil-may-care woman he once knew. The strain of the world was starting to weigh down her shoulders, and there was little he could do about it, unless he agreed to marry her, and make his own life miserable, being so near her, and not being able to touch her. It was damned if you do and damned if you don’t, he breathed the old cliché .

  Lavonia suddenly felt tired. She felt strangely old. She had lost her father, and a hated husband, and now a friend. All she had left was the Irishman, and Patrick as a friend. She never should have shown him how much she enjoyed his touch. She would never respond to his love making again, she vowed. Then perhaps he would give up, forcing her to his bed.

  ****************

  “Have you heard?” Marybeth was chattering, as the group sat around the table playing cards. Lavonia did not like playing cards, because it reminded her of her father’s addiction to gambling, and she hoped it did not run in the family, but they needed the extra player, so she agreed, she did not realize that Grange was going to be there as well.

  Grange sat across from her, but she had not spoken to him, unless necessary, and he had not tried to be his witty self either. “Heard what?” Grange asked, absent mindedly, as he took a card from the deck to replace the one he had laid down.

  “They are going to rid our town of those awful highwaymen.”

  “And who are ‘they’?” Grange asked, glancing up at Lavonia to see if she was paying attention.

  “The constable, of course. They are putting guards on all roads leading out of town.”

  “It is about time,” Lavonia muttered. “Then we will be rid of them forever.”

  “And I thought you wanted some entertainment,” Grange, murmured.

  “I have been entertained enough,” she smiled back, and looked at her hand, rearranging her cards. She was thinking of the Irishman, he was sure.

  “I am glad to hear that!” he smiled. Hoping this new bit of news would stop her from going out. Irish would have to insist they lay low, and that may stop her. He hadn’t seen her, since she left his office, and tonight he was scheduled to meet her on the highroad.

  When the group broke up, Grange helped Lavonia up into her carriage, but she did not even thank him, or talk to him. Her face looked stern, with l
ittle expression. No more the flirting spinster, using her wits to put him down with words. It was like she was giving up on life, and it was all his fault.

  “Lavonia,” he murmured before he closed the door on the carriage. She looked at him, but didn’t speak. “I hope you are feeling well.”

  “Thank you,” she said dryly.

  “You don’t plan to continue sending the highwayman out, do you? Not after what Marybeth said. You know he might get hurt.”

  “I don’t send any highwaymen out. I wish I had never heard of a highwayman, but at the moment I could care less what happens to him,” she frowned. “To either of them,” she added.

  Grange closed the door. That was a dangerous sign. She wanted to get killed, and she would be happy to see the Irishman get killed as well. His turning down her offer of marriage must have depressed her more than he thought, he worried. He was going to have to put a stop to her marauding, though.

  Lavonia saw the Irishman waiting for her. There was no more excitement in the prospects of robbing the wealthy, or being with the Irishman. Just determination to get it over with.

  She could always stop her masquerade, and sit stoically in her tomb of a house, she thought dryly, but she would rather just get shot, and put an end to her miserable life, than to waste away in black, with yapping dogs in the background and then eventually the silence of the house. She wondered what the old lady was going to do with the dogs when she died? Lavonia had vowed that she certainly wasn’t going to take them over!

  Maybe she should have taken Grange up on his offer as a lover. At least lovers furnish their women with jewels and money. But it was too late to do that either. She hated Grange, and refused to ever be friends with him again, even on a casual level. Just hearing the concern in his voice tonight, angered her. He had no right caring about anything she did, or didn’t do, she thought firmly.

  “I was hoping you had decided not to come tonight,” Grange said in his chosen accent, as she approached.

  “Why ever not?” she asked, trying to act brave.

  “It is rumored that the roads will be guarded. Should we take the risk?”

  “Are you telling me you have no spine?” she asked.

  “Perhaps we should lay low until the danger is over,” he suggested.

  “Why not go to a neighboring town then?” she countered.

  “We do not know the people, or who would be easy marks,” he pointed out.

  “For such a big muscular man, you appear to be rather timid,” she frowned, “except when it comes to ravishing women,” she smirked.

  “You have not complained of my touch,” he reminded her, “and you are even so bold as to touch me in return. So why are you suddenly acting the prude?”

  “It isn’t dignified, what we do together,” she murmured.

  “Being a highwayman is not dignified either. You are a hypocrite,” he accused.

  “I don’t need to listen to you,” she said. “If you don’t want to come, then leave. I will do it on my own.”

  “No you won’t,” he told her. “I am not going to see you get shot.”

  “I am a better shot than anyone who would dare try to shoot me,” she boasted.

  “Lavonia, don’t do it tonight. Wait to see if they do put guards out. We will figure out a way to outsmart them.”

  “You are just a coward,” she accused, kicking Thunderbolt into a gallop and riding away.

  Grange set his mouth in a determined line, and headed out after her. As he came up beside her, he leapt from his horse, onto hers, and put his arms around her waist, grabbing her reins. “You are not going anywhere!” he bellowed. He reached in her pocket and took her gun, putting it in his own pocket. He whistled for his horse, as he took over her reins.

  “Get off of my horse!” she spit at him, but he only laughed, and turned Thunderbolt back to town towards his room above the club.

  “You cannot handle me this way,” Lavonia shrieked, as Grange dragged her down from her horse, and threw her over his shoulder, striding up the back stairs with her, as she kicked and beat against his back.

  “Apparently, I can, because, as you see, I am,” Grange pointed out, as he deposited her onto the floor.

  Lavonia made a lunge for the door, but Grange blocked her path. “Take your clothes off,” he growled. But he seemed impatient, as he tossed her hat aside, and ripped her mask away. “You little spit fire! You don’t know what is best for you!” he grumbled as he pulled her coat off, and then her vest. “You aren’t leaving this room, until I say so, and the fewer clothes you have on, the less chance of you bolting,” he told her, as he started gathering her clothes, and tossing them in the corner, and then turning back to finish his task of undressing her.

  “Keep your filthy hands off of me,’ she hissed, as he started to undo her trousers.

  “Sorry, love. I can’t help myself,” he said between clenched teeth.

  The lamp light coming through the window, cast a glow upon her skin, as she stood before him, her top removed, and her trousers, around her ankles. He came to her and placed his mouth against her shoulder.

  “Don’t do that,” she whimpered, trying to shrug him off. “You have no right to touch me, seeing as how we have not taken any loot this night.”

  “My dear girl, haven’t you figured out yet that like you, I can do as I please, unless you can stop me, which I doubt you can,” he murmured, kissing the other shoulder.

  “Why are you doing this? Why do you taunt me with your hands and mouth, when I know that…..” she didn’t finish.

  “Know what?” he asked straightening up.

  “You….you just want my body. I will never know who you truly are. You are in love with some woman who is smart not to let you near her. You are like a ghost to me. Always in the dark, never seeing your face, never knowing what you are really thinking,” she started sobbing as she spoke, realizing her life was hopeless. His hands were the only hands she wanted touching her, and yet she resented it, because….she suddenly realized why she hated him so. It was because she had no power over him. He was not at her beck and call. She was the one who had to submit, and she resented it.

  The tears dried on her cheeks as she set her resolve, never to allow him to force her to submit. “Over your tears so soon?” he asked, trying not to let her vulnerability affect him. “Sit down, so I can take off your boots,” he commanded, giving her a little push towards the bed.

  She plopped down, and held out a foot, as he removed one boot, and then the other. He discarded her trousers, into the corner with her other clothes, and then went and sat in the chair, glaring at her, watching the light through the window illuminate her white body. God she was so beautiful, he could barely stand it. And the anger in her eye, only added to her beauty, causing him to become aroused, just looking at her resolve. He knew she would fight him tooth and nail, if he tried to take her tonight. Grange wondered if he wanted the challenge of forcefully seducing her? Had he agreed to marrying her, he could have forced her to submit, but it would make for a bad marriage, and that is not how he wanted Lavonia. He wanted her like she was the night she insisted on kissing his body in such a bold manner.

  He sat reliving that night, as he let his eyes engulf her. The way her fingers had played upon him had excited him beyond recognition. She never flinched as she explored his body with her fingers and mouth, causing his heart to leap, at every touch. Just thinking about it made his heart beat faster and his breath to quicken.

  She had told him once she thought the act disgusting, and yet that night, she acted as though everything about it intrigued her. Now she just glared at him, as though she wanted to tear his eyes out.

  Remembering her abandon that night, caused his loins to shudder, as he felt his desire build, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to restrain himself, while she sat there in her naked beauty, glaring at him with dark eyes. He knew she had never seen him undressed. It had always been dark, and he wondered how she would react to actually
seeing what he looked like, instead of just being able to feel him?

  He stood up, and shrugged his coat off, unbuttoning his shirt, watching her eyes the entire time. He tossed his shirt on top of her clothes, and sat down to remove his boots. His eyes never leaving hers, and he could see the vein in her throat start to throb faster. Was it exciting her, or frightening her? He was not sure which. Then he stood, letting his trousers fall to the floor and stepping out of them, the light shown over his strong muscles, and his yearning for her, was apparent. Grange didn’t removed the mask, though. That was a risk he could not take.

  He heard her take in her breath, as he walked slowly over to where she sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. He tried to tamp down the need for her, as he stood looking down at her, while her eyes seemed captured by the sight of him so close, and he willed her to reach out and touch him.

  Lavonia, widened her eyes at the Irishman as he slowly sauntered over to the bed. He had not lowered the shade, and the light that fell over his body, accentuated every muscle and sinew, as the shadows darkened each valley and curve of his body. She could not tear her eyes from his body. She had felt him against her body, and touched him with her fingers, but to see him in such a breathtaking way, made her whole body tremble with amazement.

  Then he was standing right next to her, giving her a closer view as the masculine scent of him, mixed with his pleasant musky smell, caught her attention, seeping into her senses reluctantly. He merely stood there, not saying a word, looking down at her, as she took in the view of him.

  Lavonia let her breath out slowly, and the feel of her breath on him, made him leap with anticipation, causing him to wonder if she would just remain there gazing at him, or make a move to touch him?

  “You want me to touch you, don’t you?” she said at last, lifting her eyes to his.

  “What do you think?” he asked in a low husky tone.