Because of Rebecca

by Leanne Tyler

  “I’m sorry, I really have to go, or I’ll miss my train. Can we talk more about this when I return?” If I return.

  “At least let me carry your bag and see you off,” he said, catching up to her as she went down the stairs.

  She stopped at the bottom landing and whispered. “I don’t think this is a good idea. People are already talking about us.”

  His brows knitted together. “Who’s talking?”

  “I’ll be back in a few days, and I’ll pay a call to Mrs. Paxton,” she said loud enough for the night clerk to overhear. He’d been straining his neck as she descended the stairs, trying to hear their conversation.

  “Good night, Mr. Hollingsworth,” she called over her shoulder.

  Jared watched as she stopped outside of the hotel, sat down her valise and donned the garment she had draped over her arm. From the distance it looked like a cloak, which he found odd since it was late June. Yet, she wore it, covering her person from head to toe. He could only see her dainty hand as she reached out to hail a hired cab.

  Curiosity demanded he discover what she was doing. He stepped out of the hotel and motioned for Higgins to bring the carriage, and climbed up beside his driver instead of getting in back. He was not surprised at all when the cab he followed turned down Brewerton Street instead of going to the train station.

  “Slow down, Higgins. We don’t want Miss Davis to spot us following her,” he ordered.

  “Yes, sir. Do you mind my asking why we’re doing so?” The driver pulled back on the reins.

  “I suspect she’s headed for trouble.”

  “Then she needs our protection.”

  Jared grinned at his faithful servant. Taking care of Rebecca was something he was prepared to do. And he might as well get used to doing so if they were going to marry.

  His brow furrowed and he thought back to what she’d said on the staircase in the hotel. People were talking about them. He clenched his hands into tight fists. His personal reputation being in question was old hat. He had accepted the murmurings behind his back long ago. But to drag Rebecca’s reputation down by association was something he wouldn’t allow to happen. He would find out who was doing the talking.

  His carriage slowed even further as Rebecca got out of the cab and turned down an alley.

  “Looks like you’ll have to walk,” Higgins said, pulling the Victorian to a complete stop.

  “Wait right here,” Jared ordered, and jumped to the ground. He quickly walked down the street and stopped at the alley entrance. He could barely make out her silhouette at the other end of the dim passage. She turned left which took her to Amherst. The only establishments there were a few gaming halls and a brothel. Not a place you’d expect to see a lady visit.

  What in the hell are you up to, Rebecca?

  The night was quiet except for the sound the click of horse hooves made on cobblestone as Higgins slowly approached with the carriage disregarding his orders. “Meet me over by the river, but don’t let her see you. She’s headed toward Amherst.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  What’s she doing? It’s the middle of the night. No woman in her right mind would even consider walking down by the river alone. This explains her wearing the cloak. She thought no one would recognize her if she hid herself.

  Jared’s breathing grew labored as he walked quickly down the darkened alley. He came out at the other end just in time to see Rebecca pass under a gaslight and enterer Madame Monique’s House of Delights with his cousin Rory.

  Rory!

  If someone had kicked him in the gut Jared wouldn’t have been more surprised. Or angered. He hurried to the front stoop of the establishment and knocked rapidly until the door opened.

  “Well hello, love. You looking for some company tonight?” a painted woman in a snug fitting red dress asked, leaning on the door.

  “I believe a well-dressed woman just entered here. Can you show me to her?”

  “Ah, I see. You interested in a little ménage á trios?”

  “No.”

  “You want some special pleasure, but you don’t know exactly what? I’ll get Madame Monique for you. Follow me, love.”

  Jared watched her saunter into another room and slowly followed, noticing several small parlors where women in silk wrappers entertained gentlemen or served drinks. But he did not see Rory or Rebecca among them.

  He didn’t get any farther than the stairs when the painted lady returned with a woman wearing a transparent black dress, leaving little to the imagination. Her breasts, round and plump, looked as if they were about to burst forth from the black lace bodice. Sparkling jewels graced her neck and earlobes.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked, taking a drag on a cigarette and blowing out a puff of smoke.

  Jared coughed. “I’m looking for a couple who just entered this establishment together. The man is my cousin, Rory Hollingsworth.”

  “Ah, dear Rory.” The woman blew smoke rings over his head and winked naughtily at him. “He’s busy at the moment, but if you’d like to have a seat I’ll be glad to tell him he has a visitor when he finishes.”

  Jared took a step backwards, finding her words hard to swallow. Rory busy.

  “The woman who came in with him. Is she with him now? Does she work for you?”

  “What woman?”

  “In the cloak.”

  “Ah, the cloak. Rory likes his women to be mysterious. They must be playing out la petit chaperon rouge. This could take hours. Rory is a notorious big, bad wolf. If we listen closely we might hear his triumphant howl as the deed is completed. Won’t you have a seat?” She gestured toward a vacant chaise. “We can have a few drinks while you wait.”

  “I don’t want to sit down. I don’t want to have drinks.” He roared. “I want to see that woman!”

  “I can wear a cloak for you,” the painted lady in the red dress wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can be anything you want, honey. You don’t need Rory’s used goods.”

  He wrenched himself free of the woman’s hold and glared at them both. He didn’t like their innuendos about Rebecca. There had to be some mistake. “If he’s laid one hand on Rebecca, I’ll kill him.”

  Monique snuffed out her cigarette on the stairwell banister and flicked it into a nearby potted plant.

  “Chérie, leave the man alone. Go fetch Rory.” Monique’s tone changed and so did her features. Her smile was gone and now she looked bored. “Tell him the Master of the Plantation is here to see him. We’ll be in my suite.”

  “Oh, so you’re the master of Oak Hill? Rory talks about you all the time.” The painted lady gave a yearning look and vulgarly blew kisses in the direction of his crotch.

  Jared recoiled back a step.

  “Come with me.” Monique put her hand on his shoulder to draw his attention back to her. “I’m sure you’ll wish to speak to your cousin in private. It’ll be a nice little reunion.”

  He followed her down a corridor and up a second staircase into her suite. He’d expected the room to have gildedmirrors, bold colors and gaudy draperies. Instead, the room was soft blue with sheer drapes cascading at the windows and bed frame, giving the room a peaceful and innocent feel much like Charisse had decorated the nursery. The low burning candles around the room added to the serenity.

  “Rory said you looked alike, but you’re nothing like I imagined.” Monique smiled. “Clearly you’re the more handsome cousin.”

  “What else did he say about me?” Jared looked around the room. “Are they here?”

  Monique laughed, going to a drinks table. “Oh, not much. Rory’s as cunning as a fox. What’s your poison?”

  “Rory.”

  “Touché.” She poured herself a splash of Bourbon then looked up at him. “Are you sure you’ll not join me?”

  “I want to see Rory. More importantly I want to see the woman who is with him.”

  “Patience. Have a seat. Chérie will be along with him momentarily,” Monique purred, settling on a chais
e. She stretched out on her side letting her hand run down her leg from hip to knee and back again, bringing the sheer black dress up with it. “I have an array of girls who could bring you pleasure if you don’t like what you see. You’re so tense, Mr. Hollingsworth. How long has it been since you’ve been cradled between a woman’s legs?”

  Jared clenched his fists, trying to keep his breathing normal as he silently counted to ten. The very thought of Rebecca entering a place like this sickened him, and to think that she knew his cousin Rory all this time without even saying a word to him infuriated him. She’d deceived him. He’d made a fool of himself thinking he was in love with her. It was obvious he didn’t even know her. How could he ever trust her again?

  “I’ve waited long enough. If I have to tear this place apart to find Rory, I will.”

  A side door opened and his cousin sauntered into the room. “That won’t be necessary, Jared. You really should use a little more control. I could hear your venomous voice all the way down the street.”

  Jared took three long steps toward the younger man and grabbed him by the open shirt collar. “Where is Rebecca? I saw you bring her in here.”

  Rory laughed, jerking free. “I thought that was you lurking in the shadows out front. But I’d never have guessed you’d stoop to spy on your lady friend. You nearly frightened the poor woman to death. She thought…well never mind what she thought. It isn’t important.”

  “Where is she?” Jared shouted.

  Rory sidestepped Jared’s second attempt to grasp his collar. “Gone.”

  He lunged toward Rory and knocked him into a side table. It broke beneath their weight as they toppled to the floor. With a right hook, he slammed his fist into Rory’s jaw, then grabbed him by the collar and shook him. “What’s your business with her? How long have you known her? Are you lovers?”

  His cousin broke free and scrambled away, giving him a look of utter contempt. “If you think any of that is true about Miss Rebecca Davis, then I say you know nothing about her at all.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rebecca’s heartbeat raced as if she’d run down a road instead of sitting in a private compartment on a northbound train. Rory assured her she’d only imagined seeing Jared follow her down the alley to Madame Monique’s. But if it had been him…what he must think of her going into a brothel. And with Rory. A man she shouldn’t even know. How would she ever explain it all to Jared?

  “Are you feeling all right, miss?” Ruth spoke slowly and softly in unbroken words, laying a gloved hand on Rebecca’s arm.

  “I will be soon.”

  “Maybe you should get some rest?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep if I tried right now.”

  The young woman carefully rearranged her skirts and smoothed her cloak of any wrinkles. “M’neither.”

  Rebecca watched her companion take pride in her clothing. “You look beautiful, Ruth. The soft butter color compliments your complexion.”

  Ruth smiled. “Madame Monique made up my face and fixed my hair.”

  “She did well.”

  A knock sounded on the sliding wooden, glass paned door and the ticket master stuck his head inside the private side chamber. “Tickets please.”

  Rebecca handed him their passage stubs and he glanced at them before he smiled and punched the tickets. “Changing trains in Grenada to Memphis. Enjoy your travels.” He nodded and closed the door before proceeding down the corridor.

  Ruth let out a breath and smiled faintly at her once they were alone again. “Ain’t you scared?”

  Rebecca nodded. “More than I can express in words. But let’s not think about it. We’ll be in Memphis in the morning and no one will be the wiser if all goes as planned.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Here, I brought something to help occupy our time.” She reached into her small valise and produced two hooks and two skeins of yarn. “I find crocheting relaxing.”

  “M’ too, miss,” Ruth said, taking a hook and skein.

  An awkward silence engulfed the chamber, but neither began a project. Rebecca couldn’t stop thinking about Jared, and she assumed Ruth was consumed with thoughts of her new home.

  “Perhaps we should turn down the lamps and try to get some sleep after all if we can.”

  She nodded.

  Rebecca stood, turned the wicks down on both lamps, and settled herself in the corner. She pressed her cheek against the cool windowpane and watched as the dark night passed. Somewhere between the mingled tree limbs, the moon and stars, her thoughts returned to Jared and his proposal. She’d thought many times about what life they’d be able to build together once this mission was complete. Silently she prayed he’d understand her involvement with Rory, and the need for secrecy. Surely there would still be a possibility for them when she returned. If she returned.

  ****

  The sound of a match striking flint and the smell of sulfur stung Jared’s nostrils. Sharp pain shot through the center of his head as he slowly opened his eyes to the blinding light shining in his face. Blinking, he held up a hand and shielded his eyes from the white light until he was more awake. His surroundings were foreign, but the fragrance that filled the air seemed familiar, strong and faintly exotic.

  He sat up quickly. A little too quick. The room began to spin and he slumped back against the silken sheets, their coolness against his skin startling. “Where the hell am I?” he muttered to himself, not expecting an answer.

  “Don’t you remember, honey?” a sultry voice spoke to him from across the room, and then the pungent scent of cigarette smoke assaulted his nose. Monique.

  He recalled coming here looking for Rebecca because she’d been with his cousin.

  “Rory!” Jared bellowed, pushing himself up off the bed. He landed on his feet and staggered toward the direction of the voice.

  “How about a drink? Bite that dog that bit you last night to cure what’s ailing you, honey.” Monique caught him before he fell to the floor.

  “What am I doing here? In your room?”

  She laughed, helping him sink to a sitting position on a step leading to her doorway. “You and Rory tied one on last night, sugar. Don’t you remember? After the two of you beat the hell out of each other, you both drank until you passed out.”

  “But I was on a bed?”

  “I couldn’t very well let you boys sleep on the floor, now could I? Though I was tempted. Very tempted after the way you carried on. And over that little goody-good when you could have fought over me.”

  Jared’s vision slowly cleared as she spoke and he saw the disheveled state of the room. Chairs lay on their sides, pillows were scattered everywhere, a few with stuffing coming from the sides. Pictures in pewter frames hung askance on the walls. He found her attitude toward what they’d done to the place peculiar. Of course, all the events of last night had been strange. He still didn’t know why Rebecca had come here in the first place.

  He rubbed the back of his aching head, then his sore jaw and winced when he touched his cut lip. Looking down, he saw his hands were bruised, knuckles skinned. “Where’s Rory?”

  “Having breakfast downstairs with the girls. Would you like to join him?”

  Jared shook his head, but stopped as the room began to spin again from the sudden movement. “I don’t think I’d keep anything down.”

  Monique laughed; patting him on the back then returned to the chaise, her filmy wrapper dancing in her wake. “How about that drink?”

  “No.”

  “Black coffee?” She asked, discarding the cigarette butt in a nearby ashtray.

  “Yes.”

  She pulled twice on a white velvet cord hanging from the ceiling. Within minutes the door opened and a maid rolled in a cart with a coffee service.

  “Can I get you anything else, Madame?”

  “Please tell Mr. Rory to join us when he’s finished.”

  “Yes, Madame.”

  Once the maid left, Monique lit a
nother cigarette. She took long draws on it and blew smoke rings into the air.

  “When you feel up to it there is fresh water behind my dressing screen and a razor if you wish to clean yourself up. As for your state of dress I cannot provide new, but I can have them cleaned and pressed if you like.”

  “And then what?”

  Monique smiled saucily and wet her lips. “Then you and Rory are going to make compensation for the damages to my establishment. I feel I’ve been more than tolerant to you boys.”

  “How much will it cost to compensate you?”

  “Tsk—tsk, I thought you to be a smart man, Mr. Hollingsworth. I don’t want your money. I want you. And Rory, of course, but I can have him whenever I like.”

  The door to the room swung open and Rory waltzed in, clean-shaven, sporting bruises and a black eye. “Monique! You look ravishing as always.”

  “Ravishing,” she repeated and smiled. “See Mr. Hollingsworth, Rory knows what I like to hear.”

  He grinned and winked at Jared. “Monique, what are you up to? He looks mortified.”

  She chuckled, went to Rory and wrapped her arms around his neck. She planted a kiss on his mouth. “I think he needs to go back to his plantation and wait for his goody-good to return. I’m too much for him to handle.”

  “Exactly where has she gone?” Jared asked, getting to his feet, this time without the need of support. He slowly walked to the beverage cart and poured black coffee into a china cup.

  “Sorry, Jared. Her destination is something I cannot tell you.” Rory pulled Monique snug against him, running his hand slowly down her back and cupping her bottom before squeezing. “As for you, you saucy wench, leave him alone.”

  Pouting, Monique pushed Rory away. “Then both of you get out before I think better of it. And if I see either of you here again I’ll have you thrown out.”

  “You heard the woman, Jared. Let’s go.” Rory grabbed his waistcoat from an overturned chair. He put it on then winked at their hostess. “Until later.”

  The men walked outside into the brightness of the new day. Jared frowned, hurrying to keep up with Rory. “Exactly where do you think you’re going?” he asked as they walked down Amherst toward the more respectable side of town.