“But he wasn’t a count?”
“Of course not.”
“So, who was the count?” Zach raised a dark brow as if he had just narrowed in on the right question.
“What count?”
Zach’s eyes widened, and his face turned the most intriguing shade of red. “I don’t know what count! But isn’t there supposed to be a count if she’s a countess?”
“I see what you mean.” Jenny nodded sagely. “That count. The dead count.”
Zach heaved a sigh of relief. “Now you’re talking. Tell me about the dead count.”
Jenny shrugged. “I can’t.”
“Why not? Wives aren’t supposed—”
“Stop it right there, Zachary Weston.” She wagged a finger under his nose. “I don’t care what you’ve heard about husbands and wives, but I will not allow you to accuse me of lying to you this way.”
“I wasn’t—” Goodness, he certainly did look cute when he was protesting his innocence.
She held up a hand to stop him. “Well, I should hope not. Now, did you have another question?”
Zach stared with a look that reminded Jenny of a man she’d once seen who’d just been kicked in the head by a mule.
“Never mind, Zach, about the dead count. He isn’t.”
“Dead?”
“That’s right. Primarily because he was never alive.”
“He wasn’t alive.” Zach’s words were slow and measured. He didn’t seem to be understanding this at all. Lord, she hoped he wasn’t feeble-minded.
“Nope. Ophelia made him up.”
“Why?”
“She needed a dead count.”
“Why?” There was a plaintive note in his voice.
“So she could be a widow, of course,” Jenny said patiently.
“Why?” It was as much a groan as a word.
“You know?” Jenny drew her brows together thoughtfully and tapped her chin with her forefinger. “I’m really not quite sure how that part happened. I think someone just assumed she was a widow and she went along with it. It seemed like such a good idea to her at the time, although, personally, I thought we’d both end up in jail. Still, Ophelia saw the entire endeavor as a way to—”
“Hold on!” Zach narrowed his eyes. “I’ve figured this out.”
Jenny smiled sweetly. “It really wasn’t all that complicated.”
He glared. “Just let me go over this.”
She shrugged. “Go ahead.”
“First of all, the countess, Ophelia, is your sister.”
“That’s right.”
“And there is no count, dead or alive.”
“Also right.”
“And Ophelia isn’t really a countess.”
“That’s it, Zach, you’ve got it.” Jenny beamed. Thank goodness, he wasn’t feeble-minded after all. Just male.
“So…this means she doesn’t have a title or property in England or a castle.” He stared at her intently.
“Nope.”
“Come on.” Zach set his lips in a determined line and turned his horse back toward the ranch. “We have to tell Big Jack.”
“Why?” Jenny drew her brows together.
“Because she’s swindling him, that’s why.”
“Big Jack is a big boy, a very big boy. He can take care of himself.” She shook her head slowly. “I’m not going back.”
“Of course you are.” He jerked his head toward the direction they’d just come in. “Let’s go, woman.”
“Let’s go, woman? Did you just say, ‘Let’s go, woman’?” She cast him a look of disbelief.
“Well”—a sheepish expression washed over his face—“yeah.”
“Did you learn how to talk to women from Big Jack too?”
“Kind of.” A stubborn light glinted in his eye. “Big Jack says you pretty much treat women the same way you treat a good horse or a heifer.”
“A heifer? Isn’t that some kind of cow?”
“It’s a young cow,” Zach muttered.
“I don’t care if it’s a baby cow still in its mother cow’s arms. I don’t want to be treated like some old cow.”
Zach cast her a helpless look. “I’m sorry, Jen. I just don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to being around girls. And Big Jack—”
“Let me make a suggestion about Big Jack.” Jenny raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever seen him treat Lorelie like a cow?”
Zach’s eyes widened. “Well, no, Miz Lorelie would—”
“She’d shoot him, wouldn’t she?”
“I don’t think she’d shoot him, but she wouldn’t take kindly to it.”
“My point exactly. And neither would I.” She cast him a benevolent smile. “Don’t pay any attention to what he says, but to how he acts.”
“All right, but”—that annoying stubborn expression of his was back—“we have to go back.”
She clenched her jaw. “I have no intention of going back. If I go back, Ophelia will have me on the afternoon train out of town tomorrow.” She sidled her horse close to his, leaned forward and placed two fingers under his chin. “And then I’d never see you again.” She widened her eyes and lowered her voice. “I’d hate that, wouldn’t you?”
He swallowed. “Well, sure.”
“I mean…” She paused and ran the tip of her tongue over her upper lip. His eyes focused on the movement, and satisfaction surged through her. “You do still want to marry me, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah,” he breathed.
“Well, then, we should get going.”
“But—”
She placed her fingers over his lips. “I’ll make you a deal, Zach. We go ahead to Laramie and get married and afterwards, if you still want to, we can come back and tell Big Jack everything.” She leaned closer, replaced her fingers with her lips and brushed her mouth softly against his. He groaned beneath her touch. “What do you say, Zach?”
His eyes were dazed, not quite as if he’d been kicked in the head by a mule, but close enough. He shook his head as if to clear it, and she smothered a smile.
“All right, Jenny.” He nodded in a firm manner, as if this was all his idea. “We’ll get married and then we’ll tell Big Jack about your sister.”
“Whatever you want, Zach,” she said demurely.
Once again they turned their horses eastward, and Jenny struggled to keep from laughing out loud. My, that was enjoyable. It was amazing the impact a few well-acted lines would have on a man. There was certainly a great deal of potential in the relationship between a man and a woman. And Jenny suspected men, or the manipulation of them, might be a great deal of fun.
Probably why Ophelia had kept her away from them in the first place.
“What on earth are you doing?” Sedge slipped off his horse and strode toward Tye. His friend sat slumped on the front steps of his porch, a long stick in one hand, a knife in the other.
“Well, I’ll tell you. With this knife”—he held up the somewhat feeble-looking excuse for a lethal weapon—“I’m whittling this stick”—he waved the branch in the air—“into a fishing pole.”
“You’re going fishing?”
“Probably not. It was either use the knife to carve the pole, or use it”—he smiled grimly—“to slit my throat. Frankly, that’s still an option.”
Sedge stared for a long moment. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Tye look quite so…defeated. “Ophelia?”
Tye laughed mirthlessly. “Who else?”
Sedge raised a brow. This was indeed an interesting turn of events. He settled on the step beside Tye and took a deep breath. “There are several things I feel I should tell you about Ophelia. I probably should have mentioned them before now.”
Tye shaved long slivers off the stick. “Go ahead.”
“First of all, the husband of a countess isn’t a count, he’s an earl. Ophelia’s not a countess.”
“I’d figured that one out.”
“Secondly, she’s not British. She hasn’t even the most fundam
ental grasp of the country.”
Tye snorted. “I thought her accent was a little too perfect. It’s a shame, though.”
“What’s a shame?”
“I loved that accent.”
“You don’t seem very surprised.”
“Her accent disappears when she’s mad or…” A smile struggled to quirk the corners of his mouth. “Very, very happy.”
“I see.” Obviously Tye had already had his way with the lady, so why did he seem so beaten? “Did you know all this already?” Sedge asked.
“I’d guessed most of it.”
“Very well.” Sedge studied his friend. “Did you know that maid of hers is her sister?”
Tye paused his whittling for a moment, then shrugged and continued. “Nope.”
“And did you know her father was an actor?”
Tye’s gaze rose to meet his. Finally, something the man was surprised to hear. “That explains a lot. How did you—”
“And did you further know there’s a rather vile gambler looking for her who swears she cheated him?” Sedge finished with a flourish and a strong sense of satisfaction.
Tye’s expression hardened slightly. “Where is he?”
“I managed to convince him she’d gone to Laramie.”
“Did he believe you?”
Sedge shrugged. “I think so.”
Relief flickered over Tye’s face, and he nodded. “Good.”
“So, old man.” Sedge’s words were precise and measured. “I’d say you’ve got all you need. You can expose Ophelia for what she really is to Big Jack and everyone else.” Tye didn’t say a word, and the suspicion planted a moment ago in the back of Sedge’s mind blossomed. With just a bit of a push…“I daresay they’ll run her out of town. Maybe even throw her in jail. Why, folks in Dead End will be so out—”
“I love her, Sedge.” Tye sighed in surrender. “I love her and I need her and damn it all, I want to marry her.”
“Marriage?” Sedge nearly choked on the word. “You want to wed someone? Anyone? Let alone Ophelia?”
Tye clenched his teeth. “It sounds pretty farfetched, doesn’t it?”
Sedge stared in stark disbelief. “Who would have dreamed Tyler Matthews, beloved of women on not one but two continents, master of seduction, with the gift of charming women with a single glance, would be felled by an imposter. Farfetched is something of an understatement.” Sedge grinned. “It’s positively amazing.”
“Isn’t it, though.” Tye went back to work on the stick, apparently unwilling to say anything more.
“Am I to gather the lovely lady does not return your affection?”
“That about sums it up.”
Sedge pulled his brows together thoughtfully. “Are you certain? Very often women—”
“I’m certain.” Tye set his lips in a straight, narrow line. “She told me she doesn’t love me. She doesn’t care for me. We are not star-crossed lovers. We are nothing.”
Sedge winced. “That sounds rather definite.”
“Yep.” Tye glanced off in the distance. “I feel like a complete and total idiot. I love her and she wants nothing to do with me. And I don’t know what to do.”
“If you really want her,” Sedge said slowly, “it sounds like you’re in for a fight.”
“I’ve never had to fight for a woman before.”
“Nonsense, old man, you and I have fought over women dozens of times.”
“That’s different. None of that ever really meant anything. I always knew there’d be another woman, another time and another, more or less, friendly competition. But this.” Tye narrowed his eyes as if studying something only he could see. “Damn it, this isn’t just another conquest, Sedge. I want her by my side, forever. Till death do us part and all that. I want her to share my name and my life. But none of it matters because, regardless of what I want, she doesn’t want me.”
“It sounds like you’re giving up.”
Tye’s gaze dropped to his hands and his voice was quiet. “Hell, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Sedge considered his old friend carefully. “You never gave up when you had to fight me for a woman.”
A halfhearted smile touched Tye’s lips. “I always knew I could beat you. But Ophelia”—he shook his head—“I’d have to fight her for her, if that makes any sense. And I don’t know how. I’ve never even told a woman I loved her before.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“Not even as the final strike in a seduction?”
“Never.”
“My, I am impressed. I’ve very often found it necessary to resort to declarations of affection to get to that last—” Tye shot him a sharp glance. “Sorry, perhaps this is not the time.” He studied his friend. “In spite of her words, definitive though they may be, do you think there’s a chance that she does love you?”
“I don’t know.” Tye shrugged. “Sometimes I think she does, and other times I think the whole idea of love terrifies her.”
“It always used to terrify you.”
“Love and family and home.” Tye barked a wry laugh. “Frightening ideas, all right. And the only things I want out of life now.”
Sedge shuddered. “That’s bloody awful, Tye. We certainly have come a long way from our younger days.”
“Yeah, well.” He took a long, resigned breath. “I guess it’s just not meant to be. She doesn’t want me and that’s that.”
Was this really Tyler Matthews? Hell-raising, womanizing, hard-drinking Tyler Matthews? Certainly not the Tyler Matthews Sedge knew. Bloody hell, it must be love. And just look what it did to the poor chap. Sitting here, feeling sorry for himself, defeated and depressed. Why, he was almost pathetic. Where was his fortitude, his perseverance, his zest for life? Sedge had never seen Tye give up on anything, especially not something he wanted, and never without a fight.
Perhaps…A thought teased the back of Sedge’s mind. Tye just needed to get his spirit back. His fighting spirit. Maybe…he just needed to get angry.
“You’re no doubt better off without her.” Sedge slapped Tye’s back.
“No doubt,” Tye muttered.
“After all, what was she but a liar and a fraud?”
“Don’t forget a cheat and a thief.”
“Indeed.” Sedge nodded. “And those are her good qualities.”
“That’s what I told her.”
Sedge stopped and stared. “Perhaps you need to work on your technique.”
Tye narrowed his eyes.
“I don’t know what you saw in her anyway, old boy.” Sedge eyed Tye. So far, this wasn’t working quite as he thought it would. Perhaps he wasn’t pushing hard enough. “She is a beauty, though, I have to give you that much. The thought of having those lovely legs—”
“Sedge.” A slight warning underlay Tye’s words.
“—wrapped around my neck…and those glorious bosoms, why, a man could—”
“Sedge.” The warning came sharper. Still, how far could Sedge go?
“—sell his very soul for just a taste—”
“Sedge!” Tye stilled and looked at his friend, a dangerous gleam in his eye. “If you say one more word, I’ll be forced to shove it down your throat.”
“I see,” Sedge said quietly. “So it’s not over.”
Tye glared silently.
“Tell me, why are you willing to fight me and not her?”
“Damn it all, Sedge, I can beat you.” Tye pulled his gaze away and stared into the night. Abruptly a grin creased his face. “And I can beat her too.”
Relief flooded Sedge. Tye was back. The woman didn’t have a prayer. “Excellent. How?”
“I don’t know.” Tye raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know exactly, but I do know I haven’t got a chance if I let her leave town. So that gives me until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I threatened to tell Big Jack what I knew and have her thrown in jail, although I didn’t have any
real proof.” A grin stretched across his face. “Well, I do have some proof. She asked me to let her tell him before that silly ceremony that’s planned.”
Sedge raised a brow. “That’s the day after tomorrow. Do you think she’ll still be around?”
Tye snorted. “No way in hell. I knew it, and I’m sure she knew I knew it. She asked me to let her tell Big Jack. It was tantamount to letting her go.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to tell Jack.”
Sedge chose his words carefully. “Didn’t you promise not to tell Jack?”
“Not exactly. What I promised was to let her tell him.” Tye grinned. “I never said I wouldn’t tell him first.”
“I don’t think Ophelia will see it that way,” Sedge said slowly.
“Perhaps not at first, but she’ll come around.” Tye’s voice was confident.
“And how would telling Jack keep her in Dead End?”
“Think about it, Sedge. Jack told me he would stop his deal with her if I could prove she was a fake. The information you’ve given me proves it beyond a doubt.”
“Glad I could help.” Sedge murmured.
“Jack will see he’s been taken. Then I’ll have Sam throw her in jail.”
“And then what?” Sedge shook his head. “Certainly it’s an interesting plan, as far as it goes, but Ophelia will not take kindly to being locked up.”
“It doesn’t matter. She can rot in jail, or as the mayor I can pardon her”—his gaze narrowed wickedly—“or I can marry her.”
“It’s a big gamble, Tye.” Sedge crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the stairs. “She might just prefer rotting over marriage.”
Tye snorted his disbelief. “You know as well as I do, women always want marriage.”
“Apparently not this one.”
“Apparently. At least not yet.” Tye laughed. “But she’s a woman just like any other. And whether she knows it or not, she wants exactly what every other woman wants. She just hasn’t faced up to it yet. All I have to do is convince her.”
“Oh, well, if that’s all.” Sarcasm dripped off Sedge’s words. “And a few days in jail should soften her up nicely.”
“Oh, I doubt it will come to that.” Tye jumped to his feet and grinned down at his friend. “Nope, I think just the idea of a damp, dark jail versus marriage to me, well, she’ll be in my arms in no time.” He turned and strode toward the barn.
The Emperor's New Clothes Page 27