Lady Sundown (#1 of the Danner Quartet)

by Nancy Bush

  “Which is such a ‘womanly’ action to take. So far Miss Everly’s School hasn’t had much effect on the more irritating aspects of your personality.”

  Lexie drew a deep breath. His hands were on her shoulders and she knew he would have liked to shake the living daylights out of her. Worse, his touch was starting those passionate sensations she seemed powerless to deny. She tried to shake him off but held her motionless. Daring him with her eyes, she said testily, “I had a knife.”

  “A knife?”

  “From the kitchen. It was in my pocket and I had a crop, too.”

  Tremaine stared at her in fascinated horror. “Good Lord,” he murmured.

  Lexie glared at him. It didn’t matter that his anger stemmed from concern for her welfare. She was tired of being pushed and pulled by her entire family. And she was tired of trying to understand him. “Why,” she asked recklessly, bringing their argument back full circle, “were you avoiding me?”

  “Because damn it all, Lexie, you drive me to drink.”

  She laughed, beautifully and tauntingly. Tremaine couldn’t appreciate the humor of the situation and merely tightened his hold on her. It was torture to be with her. Especially when she claimed to still love Jace Garrett.

  “Am I really so bad?” she accused now, her mouth trembling with amusement.

  “Worse,” he ground out.

  “Oh, Tremaine. I’m alive and well. I’m sorry I came to the hospital through those tenements. I honestly didn’t know any other route to your hospital. I plead ignorance. What more do you want?”

  Desire burned through his veins at her innocent question. She was more of a woman than he’d guessed, he realized. This Lexie was different from the hot-headed girl last spring. This Lexie knew when the game was up. And she knew how to be a pretty, tantalizing winner. “I ought to throw you over my knee and pound some sense into you,” he muttered.

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” he said with tense meaning, dropping his hands.

  Lexie immediately stepped away. There was no sense in pushing him. “Let’s have dinner,” she suggested. “Maybe food will cure your temper.”

  “I doubt it,” Tremaine answered feelingly, but he followed Lexie down the street.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  The small restaurant was cozy and cheerful. Lexie sat across from Tremaine, drinking tea while he made short work of a plate of beef, potatoes, and preserved vegetables. She knew there was more on his mind, but it was as if he’d purposely capped his feelings. He was like a block of wood and, perversely, she felt like chipping away at him.

  “I received a letter from Jace,” she said, gratified by the faint tensing of his muscles.

  “Jason Garrett is not my favorite subject.”

  She’d noticed the growing animosity between Tremaine and Jace, even though she didn’t fully understand it. It was two-sided, however. Jace was just as reluctant to discuss Tremaine. “I thought about inviting him to Miss Everly’s Winter Ball but I didn’t.”

  “Really.” Tremaine seemed to think that over. “Why not?”

  “I’m not sure.” Lexie drew a quick breath. She didn’t want to reveal her true feelings about Jace. He was the only protection she had. Taking a sip of tea, she asked, “Why do you hate him so much? I swear, it’s worse than ever between you two.”

  Tremaine tossed his napkin on his plate, shot her a strange look, then sat back in his chair. “Do you really want to know?”

  Lexie felt warning bells going off at his tone. “Yes.”

  “All right, I’ll tell you.” He pushed back his plate, leaned his forearms on the table, and said, “I don’t like the man’s business practices. He practically terrorizes the Rock Springs merchants into bending to his will. I don’t like his attitude. All he wants is power. I don’t like the way he treats his family. Lucinda may be hard to deal with, but she’s his mother. And Kelsey’s being ripped in half by both Lucinda and Jace’s needs.”

  “Furthermore, I especially loathe the way he treats you,” Tremaine went on flatly. “He wants you in his bed but he doesn’t care a damn about you. He doesn’t care about any of his mistresses. Ask Betsy Talbot. She nearly died giving birth to his bastard.”

  Lexie’s face had slowly drained of color. Now a crimson tide swept up her throat and cheeks, spreading with every one of Tremaine’s tersely uttered words. Though she wasn’t as fond of Jace as she let on, Tremaine didn’t know that. He was cruelly, systematically assassinating Jace, and Lexie didn’t want to hear it.

  Tremaine watched her rising color dispassionately. “You’re a possession, Lexie. Nothing more. Jace may want you in bed, but he wants the Danner property more. If there was any way he—”

  Her hand cracked against the side of his face. She hadn’t known she was going to slap him until she did. Tremaine just watched her with stony eyes, his taut jaw the only evidence he even felt the livid mark now glowing on his cheek.

  “Liar,” she whispered bitterly.

  “I didn’t think you really wanted to know.”

  His arrogance knew no bounds. “You’re just saying all these awful things because you want me!” she declared recklessly.

  “If I thought it would help, yes, I would have lied about Jace before. But as it stands, I don’t have to. I’m telling you the truth. Grow up, Sundown,” he said gently. “I could tell you things that would make your hair turned white.”

  “I was going to ask you to come to the Winter Ball tomorrow night,” she choked, “but I’d rather die than be seen there with you!”

  He regarded her grimly and she had no idea what he was thinking. She didn’t care. His attack on Jace was horribly unfair.

  “I’ll take you home,” he said moments later, and Lexie, because she had no other choice, nodded her head curtly and walked stiffly ahead of him out the door.

  Chapter Ten

  A headache pulsed at Lexie’s temples as she watched the whirling couples float across the dance floor. She attributed the pain to Kate’s brusque ministrations to her hair and wished she’d simply braided it. Instead, her golden mane was painfully pulled straight back from her head and wound with several silvery ribbon to cascade down her back in a luxuriant wave. Catching sight of her reflection in one of the hall’s windowpanes, Lexie reluctantly had to admit she did look elegant. A few feathery wisps of blond hair had been left to softly caress her forehead and tiny diamond earrings — Ella’s — twinkled prettily at her earlobes.

  Kate had brushed Lexie cheeks with pink powder but Lexie hadn’t needed the rouge. She was hot, burning up from the heat of the crowd, and as such her cheeks were flaming with hectic color. All around her there was a din of talk, laughter and general merriment. As usual, Miss Everly’s School for Young Ladies Winter Ball was a roaring success.

  Lexie sipped desultorily from her glass of punch. Hours ago she’d shed the jade green cloak which matched her dress. Now she stood near the crystal punch bowl, watching the colorful kaleidoscope of whirling dancers through distant eyes. She had not once been asked to dance. Unknowingly, she projected an image of cool, haughty disdain that had scared off her potential partners. She wouldn’t have cared anyway. Her fury at Tremaine had taken the edge off the evening, and all she wanted to do was live through this wretched ball and go to bed.

  Touching a finger to her aching temple, she turned to one of the other girls who, like herself, had been waiting like a shriveling wallflower for someone to approach, and asked, “What time is it?”

  The girl, a nearsighted, somewhat homely young lady who was far more anxious about her neglected state than Lexie, said, “Somewhere around ten o’clock, I imagine.”

  Lexie sighed. It was too early to beg off. She gritted her teeth and resolved to last until midnight.

  A storm had been gathering inside Lexie since Tremaine had unemotionally ripped apart Jace’s character. She wouldn’t believe him. It couldn’t be true about Betsy Talbot. Jace would never, ever do that to her.

/>   A small voice inside Lexie’s head questioned why Tremaine would invent such an outlandish lie, but she closed her ears to it. To hell with Tremaine. He was just a self-serving, arrogant blackguard. Lexie fists clenched. She wanted to kick and scream and beat on his broad back. He deserved to be boiled in oil.

  She fumed silently for several moments. Maybe the rack was a better item of torture, she thought malevolently. How she would love to slowly stretch him apart until he cried for mercy! She could just imagine his straining muscles and his choking, imploring pleas as he begged her to release him. Tremaine, helpless, was a delightful vision.

  “May I have this dance, please?”

  She straightened abruptly, having been only subconsciously aware of the man by her side. He was young and not unattractive, and he was talking to her.

  “I — uh — yes, of course.”

  Leaving the homely girl staring wistfully after her, Lexie walked onto the dance floor and into the young man’s arms.

  “My name’s Peter,” her partner introduced himself.

  “I’m Lexington,” she answered.

  “I know. I saw you at the hospital.”

  She gave him a hard stare. “Do I know you?”

  “I know your stepbrother, Dr. Danner.”

  Caught off guard, Lexie asked stupidly, “How do you know he’s my stepbrother?”

  “You said so yourself. I heard you tell the receptionist several nights ago, when you came in with your friend Ella Burnham.”

  She’d forgotten blurting out that information. Well, it didn’t matter. Even if Miss Everly found out there was nothing she could do about it now. “How did you happen to be at the hospital?”

  “I’m also a doctor,” he said modestly. “Dr. Peter Caldwell. I’ve worked with your — uh — Dr. Danner.”

  Something in his tone made her realize he was not over-fond of Tremaine himself. She instantly warmed to him. “Really. Then you know how exacting and insufferable he can be.”

  When Peter threw back his head and laughed, Lexie felt people staring at them. “I like you better and better, Miss Danner. I could dance with you all night.”

  For nearly an hour, Peter kept to his word, monopolizing Lexie and keeping her on the dance floor through song after song. Eventually, however, another brave soul tapped on Petersons shoulder, and Lexie, breathless and overwhelmed at her sudden popularity, was promptly swept into his arms. She was totally unaware that Peter had simply done what most of them had been wanting to do, namely ask her to dance. Upon witnessing Lexie’s warm reception, they’d waited for a chance to spin her across the floor themselves.

  Her breath was coming in gasps and her feet actually hurt by the time her last partner led her from the floor. Immediately, ten other young men stood by attentively. Gratified, but totally worn out, Lexie shook her head and politely thanked them one and all, and then she scurried for the safety of one of the sheltered alcoves near the back of the tremendous hall.

  There were gilded handles on the French doors that led to a wrought-iron balcony. Lexie tried one and was pleased to find it cracked open. Frigid air, promising snow, swirled around her, cooling her cheeks as she reveled in this exciting and totally unexpected turn of events. Never in her life had she felt beautiful and wanted. She’d always felt Jace’s attention to her was some kind of gift. But now other young man were actually seeking out her company, a heady sensation that nearly superseded her fury at Tremaine.

  Until she walked back to the dance floor and saw the blackhearted devil himself lounging against a white column, eyeing the room with the faintest amusement, as if the whole affair were funny indeed.

  A fresh surge of rage burned through her like molten lava. He hadn’t seen her yet. Good! It was unbelievable that he’d come to dance! He’d done it just because she told him she didn’t want him here!

  Peter was once again at her elbow. “Another dance, please?” he asked charmingly.

  “I’d love it.”

  It occurred to Lexie as Peter escorted her to the floor that Tremaine might not know how to dance. When would he have learned? For the first time she was fervently thankful for Miss Everly’s training. She could perform a passable waltz and, though she told herself dancing was a frivolous waste, now she saw it as a way to socially ruin Tremaine.

  Peter expertly whisked her around the perimeter of the floor, so near Tremaine that she could almost reach out and touch his black suit. It infuriated her that he looked so devastatingly handsome. His dark skin was a perfect foil for his snowy-white shirt. The black jacket stretched lovingly over his strong shoulders. His face wore an expression of mild tolerance, as if he were the Lord of the Manor come to spend time with his loyal subjects.

  Lexie wanted to kill him.

  Her hand was clasped within Peter’s fingers, her other resting delicately on his shoulder. Lexie smiled at him and scrupulously avoided Tremaine’s eyes. She wanted to meet his gaze, but she knew the mockery she would find in those stripping eyes. Let him see her first. Let him make the first conciliatory move. She’d be damned if she’d even look his way.

  After several trips around the dance floor, she was certain he had more than enough time to find her and was about to beg off when the orchestra took a break. Gratefully, Lexie let Peter lead her to the punch bowl, where Miss Everly smiled benevolently at all the young couples.

  Accepting a cup of cranberry punch, she glanced casually and surreptitiously around the room. Tremaine was still leaning against the pillar but he was no longer alone. Celeste was saying something to him that had him grinning like a satyr.

  “Lexington, are you all right?” Peter asked solicitously, taking the cup from her nerveless fingers.

  “I’m perfectly fine.” She dazzled him with a smile that made Peter gaze at her in wonder.

  Inside a slow poison was sliding through her veins, infecting her reason. It was jealousy, pure and simple, but Lexie didn’t view it as such. Tremaine’s interest in Celeste was just another example of his supreme lack of taste, his faulty judgment. He could no more pick a reliable woman than he could see Jace for the decent man he really was.

  When the music began again, Lexie watched as Tremaine led Celeste to the dance floor. She shook her head to Peter’s offer of another dance, intending to watch Tremaine’s ignominious fall from grace as he contemplated a waltz.

  He glanced her way, then, and lifted one eyebrow in silent greeting. So he had seen her. Lexie simply glared at him.

  His hand splayed across Celeste’s narrow back, nearly covering her gold silk gown. Vaguely, Lexie wondered what had happened to Celeste’s original partner, then noticed the young man with the vacant eyes and perpetually bored sneer standing on the sidelines. No treasure there, she thought in reluctant sympathy.

  To Lexie’s chagrin, Tremaine moved Celeste around the hall’s marble floor with admirable grace, looking strong and elegant and thoroughly attractive. Somewhere he’d learned to dance. She supposed it was inevitable — and it made her recognize the huge gaps in her knowledge of him.

  It was at that moment that his blue eyes sought hers. Lexie lifted her chin, meeting his gaze defiantly in their silent battle of wills. But he scrutinized her with slightly puzzled eyes, as if he didn’t know quite what to make of this formally clad Lexie, until Celeste touched her finger to his chin, drawing his gaze back to hers.

  Lexie barely noticed when Peter guided her back to the dance floor, pulling her into his arms, and gently leading her through another waltz. She felt as if she were gliding on ice, everything slippery, unfamiliar, and cold. Swallowing hard, she wondered if she were coming down with something, then her heart nearly stopped when Tremaine’s resonant voice asked from behind her, “May I have this dance?”

  Peter’s reaction broke through Lexie’s daze. His eyes flared with resentment and he said with heavy sarcasm, “Be my guest, Dr. Danner.”

  Lexie was summarily transferred to Tremaine’s arms and Peter stalked off to the sidelines. She blinked, feeling
oddly out of sync, then was brought to earth with a bang at Tremaine drawling, “Dr. Caldwell and I don’t see eye-to-eye.”

  “Is that a fact? You really know how to make friends, don’t you?”

  He had the audacity to laugh. “It’s a talent.”

  “Where did you learn to waltz?”

  “Well, let’s see. I think it was while I attended medical school. There was a certain young woman whom I longed to meet. She loved to dance, ergo I learned to dance.”

  Lexie tipped her head back, viewing him through gold-touched lashes — and felt her head spin so violently she straightened immediately. “Did you dance with her?”

  His smile of recollection was full of unspoken secrets. “Yes.”

  “Why did you come here tonight?” she demanded testily, mad at herself for being affected by his remarks.

  “To see you.”

  “You’re gate-crashing. I rescinded my invitation.”

  “Your vocabulary’s come a long way from the farm,” he murmured with a laugh. “You sound just like your friend, Miss Monteith.”

  He couldn’t have said anything designed to inflame her more thoroughly than that! “Celeste Monteith is no friend of mine,” she sputtered.

  “Now, if you just added a few ‘goddams’ and a liberal amount of ‘hells,’ that would sound more like the Lexie I know and love.”

  She was momentarily distracted by his teasing comment about love, but then she remembered what a joke it was. “You shouldn’t have come here. How did you get in? You didn’t have an invitation.”

  “Oh, but I did. Celeste was kind enough to send me one in care of the hospital.”

  Lexie nearly stumbled. “What?” she hissed.

  Tremaine pretended total innocence. “Didn’t I tell you? Yours wasn’t the first invitation. In fact, I think it’s high time I gave her some of my attention.”

  “I truly hate you,” she said with no inflection whatsoever.

  He gave her a sidelong glance as he pulled her to the crowd of people near the door. Celeste was watching them through murderous eyes. He leaned down and said quietly, “You’re only mad at me because I told you the truth about Garrett. Maybe I was too blunt, but I’ll wager you’ve thought some of those things yourself and just won’t admit it.”