Jesse's Renegade (#3 of the Danner Quartet)

by Nancy Bush

  “Thank you, Madame Duprés,” Kelsey answered politely. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. I’ve got an appointment I just can’t miss.”

  “But I insist. Jeffrey, we’ll be going to the Veranda Restaurant,” she announced grandly to her bored companion, gesturing Kelsey to follow in their wake.

  Kelsey couldn’t decide whether to honor the wretched woman demands or sail past the group of onlookers who’d witnessed this scene as if nothing had happened. The problem was, Madame Duprés had brought attention to Kelsey, and anyone would be able to describe her to Jesse and pinpoint the exact moment of her departure.

  Do you seriously believe he’ll chase after you?

  The answer to that was a resounding yes. He needed her. It was she who did not need him.

  Tightening her grip on her valise, Kelsey aimed instead for the revolving doors ahead of her, only to see Jesse’s familiar physique being spewed out of them. He spied her instantly, but apart from a listing of one sardonic brow, appeared not in the least worried that his wife was about to bolt.

  She stopped short and he strode up to her. Lifting her chin, Kelsey regarded him steadily, her knees trembling only a little at the scathing glance of contempt he rained on her.

  “I’ve had all I can bear of this,” he told her flatly.

  “We agree on something, then, for I also have had about all I can –” Kelsey outraged voice ended in a gasp as Jesse’s hand suddenly dug into her scalp, ripping the hairnet off her burnished auburn locks. Her hair tumbled down in a torrent.

  “Close your mouth, Mrs. Danner,” he suggested. “You could catch flies. And the net stays off.”

  Her teeth clamped together. Gray eyes shot icicles at him. “I was leaving,” she bit out. “Kindly, step aside.”

  To her intense surprise, he did exactly as she bid him, moving out of her path with one graceful step. “Just be back by six,” he said to her retreating back. “Remember we have an appointment.”

  “Appointment be damned,” she flung over her shoulder. “I’m not coming back at all. I’m leaving town and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”

  She barely made it to the revolving door when strong arms seized hers, pinning her shoulders back. She nearly cried out in surprise. The strength of his grasp numbed her arms and she dropped her valise.

  “Don’t push me,” he whispered harshly in her ear. “I’m at the end of my tether with you. Tonight we’re meeting Samuel, and by God, you’re going to be there if I have to wrap you in burlap and haul you there over my shoulder. I don’t like this arrangement any more than you do, but you’re the one who suggested it,” he reminded her, biting off each word as if it tasted bitter. “You could’ve told me who you were, but since you didn’t, here we are. You promised to act like my wife. I suggest you start making good on your promise. The sooner we’re through this, the better. So stop pushing me,” he added in a calmer but no less dangerous voice.

  His breath against her ear sent quivers of emotion racing through her veins. He was threatening her, but surprisingly, fear was not one of those emotions she felt. Apprehension, yes. And smoldering rebellion. But she didn’t feel afraid of him because Jesse Danner, damn his gorgeous hide, inspired far different emotions than terror. She still suspected him capable of all the worst crimes he’d beem accused of, but Kelsey was painfully aware that like all his other conquests, she wasn’t immune to Jesse’s charm. It didn’t seem to matter that he was a plunderer. Her every nerve thrummed with something akin to passion at his touch. That was what frightened her!

  “Samuel?” she asked, picking out the one part of his threat that should have bothered her the most but somehow seemed the least worrisome.

  “Good old brother Samuel,” Jesse admitted sardonically, loosening his hold. Kelsey rubbed her arms automatically. She could still feel the impression of every one of his hard fingers. “I can’t avoid him any longer.”

  Kelsey turned around to face him, her brow furrowed. “I can’t see Samuel. Maybe you didn’t know who I was, but it hasn’t been that long since he’s seen me. He’ll know who I am.”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “You don’t care?”

  Jesse shrugged. “No,” he answered flatly. “I don’t know why the hell you’ve hidden out as Orchid Simpson, but it doesn’t matter. We’re going to run into Samuel whether we like it or not. We’ve just got to convince him to keep quiet about us. I don’t want him talking to Pa and my brothers and Lexie.”

  He didn’t mention his mother. Remorse stabbed through Kelsey at the way he’d learned Eliza was dead. “Jesse…” she said uncertainly.

  “I think we should go back upstairs to get ready, hmmm? I need to decide how to deal with Samuel. I don’t really know him very well.”

  “I’m sorry – about the way you learned – about how I told you that Eliza was –”

  “Is this valise all you took?” he asked. He didn’t look at her and she was left staring down at his blue-black hair as he bent to pick it up.

  At that moment Madame Duprés stomped through the glass-paned doors that led from the lobby restaurant, her face red with annoyance. “Mrs. Danner!” she all but bellowed. “What has detained you?”

  Jesse stared at her incredulously, then his blue eyes turned to Kelsey. She all but laughed at the look of disbelief hovering in their depths. “My husband,” she said, her lips twitching.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Twenty minutes later Kelsey sat on the salon divan, her feet tucked beneath her, an unasked-for snifter of brandy in one hand. Her hair still hung loosely, a cloud of rich brown-red silk against her navy dress. Catching a glimpse of Jesse’s vulnerability had lessened her starch, and instead of being furious with him, she couldn’t help feeling unhappily responsible for his current moodiness. She’d been unwittingly cruel and now it had come back to haunt her.

  “Why are you so determined to blast your way into Portland society?” she asked him.

  He was standing in front of the windows, his back to her. His feet were planted apart, his shoulders tense beneath his suit. For some reason he hadn’t poured himself a brandy as he has for her. His hands were at his hips and she realized that he often stood just that way when he was thinking hard.

  She was coming to know him, she thought uneasily.

  “I’ve got a score to settle.”

  Kelsey’s upturned face was full of questions as Jesse swung around to face her. Clearly she couldn’t believe he’d been so open with her.

  “A score to settle with whom?”

  In that goddamned dress she looked like a schoolmarm. As he had with the net that bound her hair, he wanted to rip it off her and see once again the lush curves and soft mounds that made up her womanly body. He was furious with himself for his own thoughts. Of all the women in the world, she was the worst. Not as conniving as Lila Gray, perhaps, and so determinedly stubborn that his frustration mounted with every passing second. He couldn’t trust her, but he wanted her. No one – not one single female since Lila – had made him feel that way.

  “With a man named Montana Gray.”

  Kelsey’s eyes widened. “Montana Gray?”

  “You’ve heard of him.”

  “I’ve met him. Once.”

  “And?” Jesse was curious to know her impression of the man.

  “Lady Chamberlain was wary of Montana’s reputation and never invited him to the house. I was introduced to him at a charity event,” Kelsey answered, her delicate winged brows drawn into a frown. “He’d donated a vast sum of money.”

  Jesse snorted. “I made the man wealthy enough to become a philanthropist,” he muttered beneath his breath in disgust.

  “You made him wealthy?”

  The laughing note of disbelief that crept into her voice irritated Jesse. “Montana Gray stole the fortune from me. I mean to get back.”

  “I thought you said you were wealthy.”

  “I am. This is revenge, pure and simple.”

  “How did he stea
l your money?”

  Jesse gazed at Kelsey’s vibrant hair. Several silken strands lay against the smooth skin of her cheek, and as he watched, she lifted a hand to brush them aside. It was a surprisingly erotic gesture. “He had me beaten and thrown in the Willamette. I’d be dead now if it weren’t for Zeke. Zeke pulled me out and put me back together. Gray helped himself to my money and land with the aid of some of his friends in high places after I ‘died.’ He still doesn’t know I survived,” Jesse finished. “I’ve kept a very low profile these last five years.”

  “And now you plan to appear like some unearthly visitor come back to seek vengeance?”

  Her lightning thinking intrigued him. “He might not even recognize me. Our initial meeting was – brief.”

  Kelsey heard the tension in his voice. He had me beaten and thrown in the Willamette. She shivered a little. Jesse’s tone was matter-of-fact, but Kelsey could read between the lines. “Was he the one who changed your face?” she asked.

  “It’s that obvious?” Jesse was surprised. He’d grown so used to his looks he sometimes forgot how different he appeared now.

  “I knew who you were the first time we met, but your face is different. It’s…”

  Jesse waited, his curiosity growing.

  “It’s – just different.”

  “But someone who knew me fairly intimately will be able to recognize me?”

  “Yeees.” How intimately? she wondered.

  “Good.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

  “So once Montana sees you, how do you propose to get your money back? From all I know, he’s hardly the type to just fall on his knees in repentance, spectral vision or no.”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  Kelsey straightened. She eyed Jesse warily, but he sounded more curious than angry. “I’m just trying to get the facts straight.”

  “The only facts you need to know are: one, I plan to hit the Portland social swirl dead on, with you by my side. You’re the one who’s going to open the right doors. Two, once I confront Montana, you’re going to act like a doting wife. A loving wife. An adoring wife,” he stressed. “In fact, even before Montana and I renew our acquaintanceship, so to speak, you’ve got to play your part.”

  “You expect me to fawn all over you just for the sake of revenge?” Kelsey looked down her nose.

  A vision of Nell as she’d last looked flashed across Jesse’s mind. Sweet, innocent, concerned… Zeke had told him that she ostensibly died from a broken neck after a fall from a horse. But Jesse knew Montana Gray had instigated the “accident” and he also knew it was because of him – because of his meeting with her. He didn’t mention Nell to Kelsey. He didn’t care if she thought his reasons for revenge were noble or not. “That was the bargain.”

  “Oh, no.” Kelsey stalked across the room and set her brandy glass down on the mantle with a thump. “I became your wife and I’ll help you get invited to the right circles, but I will not pretend to care about you. I will not bend and scrape and subjugate myself. I will not be your chattel.”

  His thoughts centering on Nell, Jesse growled, “Oh, yes, you will.” Kelsey regarded him stubbornly, her small nose tilted in the air. “If you don’t,” he said in a reasonable voice, “I’ll expose you.”

  “Expose me?” She tossed back her hair, and it swirled around her shoulders in a shimmering brown-magenta veil. “I’ve already told Agatha and Charlotte who I am and what I’ve done. You can’t expose me, for I’ve done it myself.”

  Her triumph was short-lived. “I’ll send a wire to Jace and tell him where to pick you up. We can get an annulment, then Jace can sell you to the highest bidder. Maybe someone older and uglier than Warfield. Someone interested in a passionless creature like yourself.”

  His words hammered hotly in Kelsey’s brain. Her chest heaved, her breasts tight against the bodice of her gown. “You can’t expose me without exposing yourself! You won’t have to worry about Samuel keeping your whereabouts a secret; you’ll have let your family know all on your own!”

  “You want to test that theory?” He took a step closer, his face harsh with some indefinable emotion.

  Kelsey hesitated. She didn’t believe him. He wouldn’t risk so much. He wanted this revenge too badly.

  Revenge.

  Of all the loathsome qualities Jesse possessed, she somehow never suspected him of being vengeful. He was too charming and careless and self-indulgent. Or at least he had been. Now she wasn’t so sure…

  “No,” she answered after the moment stretched endlessly. “I’d rather play out this charade than deal with Jace and Emerald. You’re the lesser of two evils, so I choose you.”

  Jesse rubbed his nose thoughtfully. Her capitulation surprised him “Then try to find something decent to wear. The least offensive garment of your Orchid Simpson collection. No, nevermind. Let me choose.” He stalked across the room and through her bedroom door before Kelsey could react. She scurried after him, affronted.

  Jesse glanced at the empty closet, then snatched up her valise and popped the catches. Her clothes, tumbled and tossed inside with haste, were now dumped unceremoniously on the bed. While he rummaged through them, Kelsey temper escalated.

  “I can pick out my own clothes!”

  “Yes, I know. You just don’t do it very well.”

  He was studying a lavender silk, his handsome face a mask of concentration. Kelsey tried to rip the gown from his hands, but his grip was too strong and she succeeded only in yanking on the garment, knocking herself off balance, and tumbling onto the bed. She still held her end of the dress, however, and she glared up at him.

  “Let go,” she said through her teeth.

  “Lavender’s a color for old ladies.”

  “Lavender’s a spring color worn by ingénues and dowagers alike.”

  “So which end of the scale are you?” he asked pointedly. “Ingénue or dowager?”

  “I can hardly put the dress on it if you’re going to hang on to it so tightly,” Kelsey pointed out.

  “Why don’t you have any pink dresses? Or light blue? Or green? What in God’s name happened to turn you into a spinster?”

  He was leaning over her, his blue eyes examining her in a thoroughly aggravating way, as if she were an inanimate piece of property without feelings, one whose flaws he could correct if he just studied her closely enough.

  She yanked the dress from his grip. “I discovered very early on that a woman doesn’t need a man. Marriage is a convenience of men. I grew tired of Jace’s attempts to marry me off, so I left. I enjoy being on my own.”

  “That doesn’t explain the change,” he pointed out, nodding his head in the direction of her clothes.

  “When you’re not in the market for a husband, you might as well make it very clear,” Kelsey said, folding her hands atop her lavender gown. “My choice of clothing reflects my state of mind.”

  “Reflected. You’re married now. You don’t have to worry about a parade of suitors.”

  “I’ve grown used to looking a certain way and –” She broke off in a muffled gasp when Jesse suddenly leaned his face closer to hers, so close she could see the striations of deeper blue in his eyes.

  “Put on the lavender dress. Leave your hair down. The appointment’s at six. I’ll expect you dressed and ready and waiting in the salon at five-fifteen. Think you can manage that?”

  “Do you really expect me to act like your loving wife in front of Samuel?” she asked sarcastically, drawing back and tilting her head to hold his gaze. “Someone who knows us both?”

  Jesse suddenly cupped her chin with one hand. He saw fear in the widened depths of her gray eyes even though she was trying desperately to hide it. Fear of him, and the impossible situation he’d thrust her in. She wasn’t half as brave as she’d like him to believe.

  “Just don’t act like you’d like to cut out my liver and feed it to the wolves,” he said dryly. “That’ll be progress enough.”

  Chapter Niner />
  Samuel Danner had lived in Portland most of his adult life. He obtained his law degree and earned a position with one of Portland’s most prestigious law firms. The three years he’d been in their employ had made him realize that the only way he could advance was either to bring in a bevy of wealthy clients or to marry one of the senior partners’ daughters.

  He chose neither alternative. He went into practice for himself and fell in love with the daughter of his very first client, Cedric McKechnie. Cedric was a Portland merchant specializing in buggy and carriages and all forms of deluxe conveyances. He was a widower with an only daughter, Mary, who was both the apple of his eye and his most dependable, level-headed partner in business. But Cedric had gotten himself into trouble over a custom-ordered coach. The wife of one of his customers, as spoiled and willful and petulant a woman as Samuel had ever had the misfortune of meeting, had complained to her wealthy, powerful, and somewhat shady husband that Cedric had quoted her one price, then demanded twice the amount when the coach was finished. Cedric had come to Samuel for legal help, and Samuel had helped resolve the mess by buying the coach himself, even though the petulant wife had ordered the interior done in pink and silver, the silk curtains embroidered with shining silver cupids. The woman’s demands had in fact run Cedric way over budget.

  Mary McKechnie had been intrigued by any man who would buy such a ridiculously opulent rig. Samuel had done it because he needed transportation, and it seemed a good way to start his reputation. He’d intended to redo the interior of the coach as soon as possible, but Mary’s amusement over seeing him inside such a garish, nauseatingly feminine vehicle had kept him from immediately changing it. He’d fallen in love with her at first sight.

  They were married for less than six months when Mary lost control of the team Samuel had bought for the coach. The horses, newly trained, bolted at the screech of a factory whistle and ran headlong into Main Street and a Portland trolley. Several people were injured. One of the horses broke its leg and had to be destroyed.