“What did you think I’d do?” Did she have no idea what she’d done, how it had affected him? “Did you think I was the kind of man who would cling to a title that wasn’t mine? Did you think I could live with myself knowing I’d cheated Patrick of his birthright?”
Eden bit her lip. “I didn’t think of all that. I was just thinking of you. I never said . . .” She turned her back to him. “I wouldn’t have said a word if I’d thought anything like this was going to happen.”
“What did you think would happen? I could have gone berserk and attacked the viscount. I might even have been angry enough to shoot him.”
“I was just trying to help,” Eden protested. “It made me furious to see the way your father treated you.”
Could he be mistaken—the gathering dusk made it hard to be sure—but were those tears glistening in Eden’s eyes? He moved closer. “Why were you so angry? I could take care of myself.”
“It didn’t look like it to me. Every time you tried to stand up for yourself, he’d hit you over the head with your duty to the family. I was just trying to give you a way to fight back.”
Edward didn’t know what got into him, but the next thing he knew, he’d taken Eden in his arms and was kissing her.
Chapter Eleven
Edward released Eden and practically threw himself in the opposite direction. “I’m sorry,” he said, horrified. “That was unforgivable.”
Eden’s emotions were in such a confused tangle, she couldn’t sort them out. She’d never expected Edward would kiss her. That he’d done it against his better judgement was obvious. That he had done it at all was earthshaking. How much she liked it and wanted him to do it again was frightening. “For heaven’s sake, Edward, this is Texas, not England. A girl expects to be grabbed and kissed a few times in her life.”
“I don’t know why I did that,” Edward said.
He didn’t have to act like it had been a horrible mistake. She had been kissed several times before, but she’d never felt lightheaded, breathless, anxious to do it again.
“Maybe you were so surprised I was trying to do something nice, you forgot yourself,” she suggested, moving toward him.
“As long as I’m working for your brothers, it would be very improper for me to do such a thing.”
Even in the gathering dusk, she could see Edward looked miserable. It was impossible to remain excited with him acting as if he’d committed the worst social crime in history. “You just kissed me. That might be the same as a pledge of marriage in England, but this is Texas. If you don’t kiss a girl a couple of times, she’ll think you don’t like her.”
He stiffened, his eyes glazed over. “Are you that free with other men?”
Eden bristled. “Just what do you mean by free?”
Edward shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to America.”
Eden smiled to cover her disappointment, to ease his worry he’d done something unforgivable. “I don’t know why you kissed me, but I’m going to take it as thanks for trying to do something nice for you. Now tell me what made you decide to come to Texas. I would have thought it would be the last place you’d go.”
It was strange to see him struggle for an answer. He was such a big man, so strong and capable, it was hard to understand the devastation caused by learning the circumstances of his birth. Being born out of wedlock wasn’t a good thing in Texas, nor was it the end of the world.
“I thought of Australia first.”
Edward seemed to have recovered his composure, but Eden was sure he wouldn’t soon forget he’d kissed a woman who wasn’t his wife. It would take him a long time to shed the straitjacket Victorian society had imposed on him.
“I wanted someplace where people were more concerned with the future than the past, where there was no burden of duty hanging over my head. I wanted to be free to discover who I am, what I want . . . free to choose who I want to be responsible for. I’m not sure I’ll ever learn to accept that I’m a bastard, but at least I have the chance to start over.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you came to Texas.”
One of the horses had come over to the fence and pushed his head between the bars. Edward absently patted his forehead. The gelding rewarded him with a bump in his ribs. Eden didn’t know whether it was the sound of their voices or the animals’ jealousy over the attention one of their number was receiving, but the other horses were slowly ambling in their direction.
“According to you, I could do everything in Texas I couldn’t do in England. I figured if there was one place where being a bastard didn’t matter, this was it.”
Eden had been leaning against the fence patting the neck of a sorrel mare, but his last remark caused her to straighten up. “We don’t use that word in our family.”
“What do you call a child whose parents abandoned him?”
“A kid who needs a home and somebody to love him. My parents adopted eleven orphans, my brother Matt, five fatherless kids. My sister Drew took in three orphaned girls. Junie Mae and her three-year-old son live with my parents. He’s a sweet kid even though his father was a jerk.” Edward appeared to be having trouble accepting that fatherless children weren’t automatically pushed to the fringes of society. “Forget about your birth. What do you want to do? You don’t know how to run a ranch. And you don’t know a thing about cows until you’ve tried to wrestle a longhorn to the ground.”
“What would I do that for?” Edward asked in confusion.
“Lots of reasons, but as long as you work for Zeke and Hawk, you’ll only have to lasso horses.”
Edward looked grim. “I can’t do that, either. The other men laughed at me when I tried, but I will learn.”
Their laughter must have hurt his pride. In England, nobody would dare laugh at the heir to an earldom.
The buckskin gelding kept butting Edward with his head. He wanted a treat and was irritated none had been forthcoming.
“I’ll work with you if you want. There’s not much I hadn’t learned to do by the time I was six.” It had taken a lot of courage for Edward to come to Texas and ask for a job as an ordinary ranch hand. It couldn’t be easy for a man accustomed to giving orders to take them. Or to work with Hawk and Zeke, who probably made fun of him to his face. Going to England had been a severe culture shock to her, but coming to Texas had to be worse for Edward. He had cut himself off from the only society he knew.
“I feel like an idiot,” Edward said, his English control slipping. “It’s humiliating not being able to do things a woman can do.”
“Why?” Eden asked. “I’ve been doing them for years. You’ve never even seen them done.”
“It’s just humiliating,” Edward grumbled.
Male pride. She supposed it was a good thing, but why couldn’t men be satisfied with being bigger and stronger than women? Did they have to feel they could do everything better? “My grandmother didn’t want to leave England, but she was able to make a good life for herself and my mother. You’ll do the same.”
Edward turned to the pinto that had taken the buckskin’s place. “That wasn’t the only reason I came to Texas. I was so angry at what you’d done, I was determined to find a way to make you suffer as much as I had.” He looked up, turned his penetrating gaze on Eden. “I don’t feel that way anymore. If I’d had the choice, I don’t know if I’d have wanted to know the truth, but it’s much better to know it now than to have it come out years from now when I would have a family to be hurt.”
“I felt terrible when you disappeared.”
“Do you still feel guilty?” Edward asked in a softened voice.
“Yes, but maybe helping you adjust to Texas will help me overcome it. Let’s shake on our new relationship.” She put her hand out. Edward met it with a blank stare. “You just take my hand and shake it like you would a man,” she explained.
“Is this another instance of American women being equal to men?”
“I guess it is.”
Edw
ard put his hand out and her hand disappeared in his grip. “I’m agreeing to let you help me, but I intend to catch up.”
It didn’t make any difference what country men came from, they were all alike. “Then you’d better be really good, because I am.”
It felt odd shaking Edward’s hand. She couldn’t decide whether it was the feeling of her hand being lost in his powerful grip, or if it was more about the powerful currents that arced between them. It was impossible to be around Edward and not be physically attracted to him. He exhibited too much raw physicality, exuded too much veiled sexuality, for a woman to ignore.
His humanity made him even more attractive. He had a deep love for his brother despite his father’s glaring preference for Patrick. His interest in his tenants and their families was genuine. The children’s sadness on learning he was gone and wasn’t coming back was the kind of testimony that couldn’t be bought.
The thing that intrigued her the most about Edward was the contrast between the rigid society that had formed him and the adventurous spirit that had led him to Texas. There were more reasons why she’d never want a man like him for a husband than she had fingers to count them on, but she’d be remiss if she didn’t add that she was powerfully attracted to him and liked him a heck of a lot.
She withdrew her hand from Edward’s grip. “I’d better get back. If I’m out of sight of a family member for more than ten minutes, they get uneasy. You can’t imagine what it’s like to have ten older brothers breathing down your neck. It takes a brave man just to ask me to a dance.”
“I imagine you can handle your brothers.”
“Not as well as you think.” She paused. “I’m glad you decided to come to Texas. I hope you’ll like it here.”
“We’ll see,” Edward said.
She backed away, then stumbled over a rock she couldn’t see, but quickly got to her feet before Edward could help her. She hoped no one in the house was watching. She didn’t want to have to explain to Zeke and Hawk how looking at Edward had made her fall on her face.
Remaining at the corral fence, Edward watched Eden walk back to the house while idly playing with the forelock of the sorrel mare that had deserted Eden for him. He couldn’t figure out how he felt about this woman. He ran hot and cold, liking her one moment and frustrated with her the next. He still couldn’t believe he’d kissed her. He’d never done anything like that in his life. It was contrary to everything he’d ever been taught. At the very least he’d expected her to slap his face.
He didn’t have a problem understanding why he liked Eden. A man would have to be blind not to be attracted to her. To say she was pretty was an understatement. To deny that her body caused him to think impure thoughts would have been pointless. When she smiled at him, he could feel himself stand a little taller, throw out his chest a little more.
It was foolish, a silly way to show off, but she made him want to accomplish impossible tasks, do something of importance. Daphne had made him grind his teeth in frustration. Most of the debutantes he’d been introduced to made him want to run straight back to Worlege. All Eden had to do was smile at him, and he felt more like a Restoration rake than a Victorian gentleman.
It wasn’t simply her looks. She was unique in his experience. She was exciting to be around. A kind of energy poured off her that made it impossible to think of anyone else but her. She was like a magnet, drawing attention rather than forcing it. She knew how to conduct herself and was always tastefully dressed, but she was as unconcerned about her clothes as she was impatient with the rigid manners of society. He didn’t know how she managed to maintain her personal freedom without upsetting those around her. He’d tried to do what was expected of him, and all he did was upset people.
Giving the mare one last pat, he pushed off from the fence. It was time to go to bed, but he was reluctant to head toward the bunkhouse. He wasn’t used to sleeping in a room with anyone else, certainly not two men who snored. Regardless of how tired he was at the end of the day, he couldn’t sleep through the night. Then there was the problem of relieving himself before bed or during the night. There was no indoor privy, just an outhouse! That might have been the biggest single shock he’d encountered since he’d arrived. He doubted he’d ever get used to that.
Nor could he get used to the smallness of the bunkhouse, the minimal comforts offered by the bunk bed, the total lack of privacy or sufficient space to store his belongings. He thought he’d brought only the bare necessities, but as far as he could tell, Finn and Brady, his fellow ranch hands, had no more than two changes of clothes and one set of underwear. Edward was used to wearing more clothes than that by the time he went down to breakfast. His bunkmates constantly made comments about his trunk full of clothes. He supposed the two men were nice enough in a Texas sort of way, but he was still getting used to Texas. Finn and Brady would take a little longer.
“How’d it go with the boss’s sister?” Finn was lounging on his bunk, looking through indecent pictures of women. Brady was reading a five-cent Western novel.
“Won’t do you any good if she does take a shine to you,” Brady said, looking up from his book. “Her daddy ain’t going to let her hook up with a fella that talks funny.”
“Or who’s afraid of an outhouse,” Finn added.
Edward’s first experience with the outhouse had been at night. An owl hooting just as he was about to sit down caused him to start so badly he’d bumped his head against the door. Finn and Brady hadn’t stopped teasing him about trying to run away with his pants around his ankles. It had been all he could do not to employ his greater size and strength to lock them in the outhouse for the night.
“We got to know each other when she was in England. She wanted to know if I had any news about the people she visited.”
Edward hadn’t told anyone the circumstances of his birth. All he wanted people to know was that he’d come to Texas to learn how to be a rancher, win a horse race, and buy his own ranch where he’d raise Thoroughbreds.
“Does everybody there talk like you?” Brady asked.
“Does everybody in Texas talk like you?” Edward responded.
He approached his bunk, certain he’d never get a good night’s sleep until he learned to be comfortable on a mattress packed so hard it felt solid.
“What’s wrong with the way I talk?” Brady demanded.
“You take forever to say anything, and you put so many extra syllables in some words I hardly know what you’re saying.”
“You don’t have to,” Brady said, returning to his book. “Texans understand me just fine. It’s you they can’t figure out. You even ride funny.”
Edward was having the devil of a time getting used to the heavy saddles everybody here used, but that didn’t compare to the trouble he had with his boots. First he couldn’t get them on. Next he couldn’t walk in them without feeling as if he were about to pitch forward off his two-inch heels. Then they were so tight he couldn’t get the damned things off. He slept with them on the first night. He had been staying at a hotel in San Antonio at the time, or Finn and Brady would have never let him forget it. Somebody should have told him boots were made for riding, not walking, before he spent a whole day walking around San Antonio.
“Texas is different from England,” Edward said. “It’ll take me a little time to adjust.”
“It’ll take you longer than that to learn to handle a rope,” Finn said and burst out laughing.
It mortified Edward that he couldn’t do something common cowhands did with ease, but he refused to be drawn. He was going to learn to handle that damned rope. He would get used to a Western saddle and remember to ride everywhere when he wore boots with heels as high as those of an English woman. And one day, he would have the last laugh, because he would be the one to own his own ranch. Leigh Greenwood He wouldn’t be working for anybody and he wouldn’t be sleeping in a bunkhouse or using an outhouse.
“All things in due time,” he said to Finn as he started to undress.
That was something else. Why did Texans have to wear clothes so tight they threatened to cut off a man’s circulation as well as damage his manhood? He wrestled his boots off and put them in the corner. After removing his shirt and pants, he folded them and put them on top of his trunk. He would dearly have loved to put on a dressing gown—something he’d previously considered an essential part of his wardrobe—but he didn’t need Finn’s amused glances to tell him that doing so would cause both men to roar with laughter. They already called him duke. He figured it wasn’t meant as a compliment.
“The laundress doesn’t come until next week,” Brady said. “Maybe you’d better wash your shirt in the horse trough. It ought to dry by morning.”
They still laughed about Edward washing his personal linen after wearing it for three days, but there were only so many privations Edward was willing to endure, and soiled linen wasn’t one of them. On chilly days, Finn and Brady wore something they called long johns. They looked like what some men in England wore during the winter, but they smelled like something left out in the stable yard.
“I already did it,” Edward said. “It’s hanging on the corral fence.”
“I hope one of the horses doesn’t decide to make a meal of it,” Finn said.
“It’s goats that eat clothes, not horses. Your American horses aren’t kin to goats, are they?”
Finn didn’t like it when Edward turned his barbs back on him, but Edward wasn’t about to let two scrawny cowboys get the better of him.
“You’ll think they’re kin to gazelles when you try to beat them with that long-legged nag of yours,” Finn said. “I bet Eden’s horse can run circles around yours.”
Edward hadn’t seen Black Cloud run, but he’d been impressed the moment he saw the mare in the corral. “I’ll take my chances,” he said to Finn as he folded his frame into the bunk that was three inches shorter than he was. “I’ve got to have better luck than I have with this bunk.”
Texas Loving (The Cowboys) Page 13