He turned and stared longingly at Emmalou Purdy as she danced by with Willis Forrester. She winked boldly at Ace over Forrester’s shoulder.
“Including her,” Lynnie said under her breath.
“You mean, that’s what I’ve been looking at?” Ace felt he’d been robbed. “Of all the cheating, deceitful . . .”
“Knowing you,” Lynnie said, “you’re probably already imagining taking half of these girls out in the back of a carriage, pawing their corsets and drawers.”
He felt the flush rise to his face. “Lordy, Miss McBride, that’s hardly fittin’ conversation for a young lady.”
“I reckon not, but I know your reputation.” She looked about. “How long before the grand promenade?”
Ace shrugged. “As soon as the governor comes upstairs and the party’s in full swing, I reckon.”
“Good. I want us to lead it.”
He was mystified. That didn’t sound like Lynnie.
“Would you like to dance?” Lynnie asked.
“I’m supposed to ask you,” he said.
“Well, now, why is it the man gets to do the asking?”
Yes, it was going to be a long, long evening, Ace thought in resignation. “I don’t know; that’s just the way it is.”
“There are lots of things that need to be changed, then.”
He didn’t want to argue with the little spitfire. The red-haired McBride women had reputations for being feisty. Unfortunately, the other sisters were prettier. He bowed before her. “Miss McBride, would you like to dance?”
“I suppose we might as well.”
They set their punch cups down on a nearby table.
She came into his arms, stiff as an ironing board. “Not so close, you rascal, you. Remember, I’m practically related to you.”
“No, you aren’t, except by marriage.” Thank God for that. Her waist was small, as was the dainty hand she put in his big one. He maneuvered her out onto the dance floor. “Now remember, I get to lead. We’ll argue over whether it’s fair to women later.”
They did reasonably well and only tripped over each other’s feet a couple of times as they waltzed.
Lynnie glanced around as they danced. “All the girls are watching you. I’ll bet they’re hoping you’ll ask them to dance.”
He’d noticed that, too. Ace sighed wistfully and remembered he was under orders not to abandon Lynnie. “Now why would I want to dance with them when I have someone like you in my arms?”
She looked startled, then smiled. “I know you’re lying, but it’s nice of you to say that.”
He must be drunker than he thought; Lynnie looked almost attractive when she smiled. “Lynnie, please stop tryin’ to lead.”
“Even that Forrester girl is smiling at you.”
Willis Forrester’s sister. Her pale turquoise eyes were issuing a frank invitation. Ace smiled back.
“You don’t have to ogle her,” Lynnie snapped.
“I was only being polite,” Ace said. “Besides, doesn’t the Good Book say ‘love your enemies’?”
“That’s not to be taken literally, you dolt.”
He wasn’t sure what a dolt was, but he knew he was being insulted.
Her face was brushing against his shoulder, and he could smell a delicate fragrance in her reddish hair. If she just weren’t so stiff, he might close his eyes and pretend she was a ripe, luscious, and eager female. Ace concentrated on dancing. It was difficult, much like steering a ship that was stuck on a sandbar.
“Ace, did you ask your friends to sign my dance card?”
She sounded almost timid, and he felt sorry for the poor little thing. “You’ve got it wrong, Lynnie; they were askin’ my permission to sign your dance card.”
“Now, why would they do that?”
Ace sighed. “Because I’m your escort.”
“I’m perfectly capable of making that decision myself. Why should they have to ask your permission?”
“Lordy, girl, you do carry this women’s rights thing too far. You’ll never get a husband if you keep this up.”
She stopped in the middle of the floor so suddenly that Ace tripped over her feet. “A husband? Do you think that’s all girls think about?”
“Obviously, not you.” He led her off the floor, thinking he was going to be in the debt of his friends forever more. Well, he’d let them win at poker next time.
“Would you like some more punch?” He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face.
“Yes, please.”
Lynnie watched him amble over to the punch bowl. Just then, an older student in Lynnie’s one-room school, Penelope Dinwiddy, spotted her and hurried through the crowd. Penny was tall, sweet, and blinked a lot. Tonight she wore a cream ball gown that contrasted nicely with her dark hair. “Oh, Miss Lynnie, are you really going to go through with it?”
“Shh! Penny, you’ll spoil the whole thing.” She put her finger to her lips. “Yes, I’m just waiting for the grand march.”
Penny giggled. “My stars, you’re so brave. Let me help the cause.”
Lynnie shook her head. “You’re only seventeen, Penny, and you’re my student, so that makes me responsible for you. Besides, there’ll probably be some trouble.”
Penny blinked and looked at Ace, standing by the refreshment table visiting with friends. “They say Ace Durango is a devil with the ladies.”
Lynnie sniffed. “I’m sure I wouldn’t know about that.”
“All the girls are talking about him being your escort. How’d you manage that?”
Lynnie smirked. “I prevailed on my sister to help me. She was so excited that I actually wanted to attend the ball, she never questioned anything. I think the whole family’s afraid of being stuck with a spinster.”
Penny sighed as Ace sauntered toward them in an easy, relaxed gait, carrying punch cups. “But the one and only Ace Durango . . .”
Lynnie made a noncommittal noise. “I just needed him to get here; that’s all.”
“Does he know?”
“Thunderation, no, Penny. You think he’d have come if he’d known? Ace Durango is the last man who’d favor women’s rights. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were spoken for.”
Penelope sighed. “My brother-in-law escorted me, hoping to find me a new beau.”
Lynnie smiled at a passing acquaintance. “They don’t like Hank?”
“No.” Penelope shook her head. “I love Hank Dale and he loves me, but my Pa doesn’t think Hank has good enough prospects—owns only a few acres, and the land’s so poor, it would take three people to raise a fuss on it. That sticky oil is seeping up out of the ground and killing the grass, so it’s no good for cattle.”
Lynnie nodded sympathetically. “Sooner or later, they’ve got to find a use for that black stuff besides greasing a few buggy wheels.”
Ace joined them just then, and Penelope grinned like an idiot and blinked again. “Good evening, Mr. Durango.”
“Ah, Miss Penelope, and how are you?” Ace smiled a little too warmly, Lynnie thought.
“Miss Penelope was just leaving,” Lynnie said, and warned the younger girl with her eyes. She didn’t want her student caught in the middle of what might happen soon.
Penelope looked up at Ace and giggled. “Nice to have seen you again.”
“Perhaps you might save me a dance,” Ace said, and his eyes brightened.
“I think not,” Lynnie snapped. “Good-bye, Penny, we’ll talk later.”
The girl walked away, and Ace handed Lynnie her punch cup. “Lordy, that was rude. You practically chased her away.”
“Your tongue was almost dragging on the ground, and she’s much too young and innocent for a rogue like you.”
About that time, the band stopped playing, and the leader held up his hands for silence. “Ladies and gentlemen, the governor and his lady have arrived upstairs now, so take your places for the grand march.”
An excited buzz filled the air as the young ladies giggled an
d primped, getting ready to show off their fancy ball gowns as they gathered at one end of the giant room. Ace noted there were even reporters present with their pads and pencils, scribbling furiously. Tomorrow’s newspapers would be filled with descriptions of lovely gowns of rainbow hues and beautiful young debutantes.
“Ace, isn’t it exciting? Let’s get in front.”
“It don’t make me no never-mind,” he replied, smiling good-naturedly. One of his friends had improved Ace’s punch with a little bourbon, so he was now in a much better mood. He took her arm, and they hurried to the end of the room where the couples were lining up. Confusion reigned as couples moved about, vying for a choice spot so they would be noticed.
Ace was more than a little drunk, but he held his liquor well, and with all the ripe beauties winking and smiling at him, the evening was beginning to seem promising and not nearly so grim as he had expected. Still, for the life of him, Ace was mystified about why Lynnie was so enthused about the Grand March.
She had turned away from him, fumbling in her small purse as the couples bustled about. “Hold us a place in line, Ace.”
The orchestra leader rapped for silence. “Is everyone ready now?”
Ace moved deftly to the front of the line. With his family’s money and power, no one would dispute his right to lead the march. He looked toward all the stiff, gray-haired politicians, seated on the dais to watch the young ladies and dandies parade. Lordy, everyone in Texas would see him with this prim old maid and think he couldn’t do any better. Well, it couldn’t be helped. “Lynnie?”
“Here I come.” She whirled up beside him, and now she was wearing a banner draped across one shoulder of her pink gown and down her bodice. Ace gasped. The satin ribbon was emblazoned: Votes For Texas Women.
He blinked. “You gonna wear that?”
“Of course!” Her green eyes were defiant. “That’s the only reason I came.”
He’d been used. He felt like a cheap slut on the morning after. Lynnie McBride hadn’t been yearning to attend a ball or to dance in his arms; she was looking for an audience for her damned women’s rights. “You know you’re about to cause all hell to break loose?”
“Are you scared? If so, I can make the march alone.” She was almost pretty glaring up at him, her green eyes bright with defiance.
“Them’s fightin’ words, Miss Priss. I’m game if you are.”
He felt her take a deep breath as she took his arm and stuck out her chin. In spite of her defiant attitude, he noted that her arm trembled. They were about to start some serious trouble here. Ace didn’t even want to think about the results. Then the music started, and Ace and Lynnie led off the march. They took a dozen steps before the important audience of legislators and their ladies seemed to read Lynnie’s banner. Scowls replaced the smiles, and the dowagers began to fan themselves very fast and whisper to each other. The reporters paused, pencils in hand, almost as if they could not believe what they were seeing. The music continued to play, but the buzz along the sidelines grew as the line of couples moved toward the dais. The first lady whispered to her husband, who scowled like an old bulldog and gestured to a footman.
“Here it comes,” Ace said through clenched teeth.
“Let them come,” Lynnie snapped, and kept marching.
“Young lady . . .” The footman approached. “The governor asks that—”
“No!” Lynnie said firmly and kept moving.
The footman moved along beside them awkwardly, looking at Ace almost as if he could not quite believe what he had heard. “She’s defying the governor?”
“I reckon that’s about the size of it.” Ace shrugged and kept walking.
“She can’t do that.” The footman was aghast.
“You don’t know Lynnie McBride,” Ace said. He didn’t give a damn about women’s rights, and the only good part of this evening was that they were probably going to get tossed out and he’d have her back at the hotel in less than an hour, his part of the bargain fulfilled. He grinned, thinking the barmaid with the big tits and the red, red lips was probably getting off duty about now.
The servant hurried back to the governor, who looked like a big, fat walrus with a gray mustache. The walrus blinked in shock and gestured to several guards, who approached the couple, blocking their path. The music kept playing, and the couples behind them stumbled and ran into each other. Whispers spread up and down the line of march. A tall guard grabbed Lynnie’s arm. “See here, Miss, the governor insists—”
“Unhand the lady,” Ace growled. He was not at all pleased to have been used as part of Lynnie’s women’s rights protest, but he was too gallant to allow anyone to manhandle a lady.
The music stopped in sudden confusion, and the hubbub increased. Lynnie broke free of the guard and ran up on the dais, pulled off her banner, and threw it in the governor’s lap. “Free women!” she shouted. “Votes for women now!”
Young Forrester drew himself up stiffly and stepped out of the line of march. “This is highly irregular,” he said in a loud, irate voice, “but what can one expect from a bunch of rowdies like the Durangos and the McBrides?”
Ace strode up to him. “Are you insulting my family?”
“It appears the lady’s already done so,” Forrester sniffed.
Ace hit him then, sending him stumbling into the punch bowl. The table went over, and the red punch sloshed across the slick floor. Servants rushing to pull Lynnie from the dais went sliding in the sweet, sticky mess.
“Votes for women!” Lynnie screamed, “Governor and senators, you should be ashamed of yourselves! Give women their rights!”
Forrester stumbled to his feet, swinging wildly.
“Hit him again, Ace!” Lynnie yelled.
“Don’t mind if I do!” Ace grinned and nodded. “This dull evening might turn into some fun after all.” And he put all his power behind his fist.
Pandemonium broke out across the floor as the line of march broke up and people began to push and shove each other. Ace hit Forrester again and pushed through the crowd, trying to reach Lynnie, who was fighting to keep servants from dragging her off the dais. The band began to play loudly, attempting to bring a semblance of order to the melee, but that only added to the noise and confusion as fists flew and women screamed.
Ace made it to the dais and shoved the footman, who was trying to peel Lynnie away from the drum, which she was kicking to add to the noise. “I told you you were getting us into a mess.”
“I don’t give a damn if you don’t!” she shouted back as she kicked the footman between the legs and he doubled up and went down, moaning.
Women shrieked and blows flew all over the ballroom now, and the waltz music only added to the confusion. Ace waded into the mob, picked up a man, and slid him across the floor and through the punch. The top-heavy Emmalou Purdy turned and tried to run out of the ballroom, slipped in the punch, and landed hard on her bottom.
“Now,” Lynnie yelled, “that was worth seeing!”
“We ought to get out of here!” Ace yelled back, and tried to drag her off the dais.
“And miss the excitement? Hell, no!”
About that time, the police arrived, whistles blowing. Ladies shrieked and fainted; gentlemen who had already had too much to drink waded into the fight for want of something better to do.
Next to them, young Howard knocked a portly senator across the floor. “Wow!” he yelled. “Ace, I thought this was going to be a dull evening! I should have known it wouldn’t be if you showed up!”
Ace was too busy fighting to answer, but he noticed Miss Forrester, she of the turquoise eyes and fancy ball gown adrip with punch, fighting to take Lynnie’s banner. Lynnie had her hands in the blonde’s hair, yanking for all she was worth. Two other elegant young ladies joined the fray, and now Lynnie’s fists were flying. For such a thin girl, she had plenty of spunk, Ace thought with a trace of admiration. At least the dull ball had become more interesting in a hurry.
Oh, it was a gran
d brawl that broke up the party. It took four cops to drag Ace out of the ballroom. Just ahead of him, they were pulling Lynnie, with her dress all torn and her reddish hair down around her shoulders. “Free women!” she shrieked. “Women, arise and take your rights!”
Two reporters hurried up. “And your name is . . . ?”
“Don’t tell ’em!” Ace yelled.
“McBride,” Lynnie said to the reporters. “M-C-B-RI-D-E, and I’m making this sacrifice for the enslaved women of Texas! Ladies, arise and cast off your shackles! Votes for women!”
She was still shouting as the police hauled them down the stairs and into the paddy wagon.
“Now you’ve done it!” Ace said to her as the policeman slammed the door. His head was pounding like a war drum, and he was cold sober. He looked at her, disheveled but triumphant, her green eyes gleaming. “Lynnie, somebody’s given you a black eye.”
“Nobody gave it to me; I earned it!” She looked proud of herself.
“Oh, Lordy,” Ace groaned, “what is Dad going to say?”
Four
“Ace is in jail again,” Cimarron sighed as she entered the hotel bedroom and turned up the gaslights.
“What?” Trace mumbled.
“I said, Ace is in jail again.” She waited for her husband’s reaction.
There was a long pause, and for a moment, she thought he had not heard her. She leaned over the bed, and one of his eyes opened, blinked.
“Say that again.”
“You heard me right the first time.”
Trace began to curse in Spanish as he got out of bed, stubbed his toe, and hopped about the room, cursing. “How in the hell did that happen? I’ll wager Lynnie is so embarrassed . . .”
“She’s in jail, too.” Cimarron crossed her arms. “Maverick’s waiting in the lobby for you to go with him to bail them out.”
“I’m gonna kill that boy,” Trace promised as he grabbed up his pants and boots. “I didn’t figure Ace could get into any kind of trouble escorting a nice girl to a fancy dance.”
Cimarron tried to say something, but he waved her off as he buttoned his shirt. “Don’t defend him. It isn’t enough that Ace is wild and irresponsible, oh, no! He has to drag an innocent, respectable girl into it. Maverick will be madder than hell.”
To Tame A Texan Page 5