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Shotgun Grooms

Page 8

by Susan Mallery


  She’d heard vague whispers about what went on between a man and a woman. She knew nothing specific and what she did know didn’t make sense. Yet she wanted to ask Lucas to explain it all to her and perhaps even do some of those things. But only if they were as delightful as kissing.

  As if he read her mind, he began to move his hands up and down her back. He stroked her like a cat, and like that same creature, she arched into his touch and wished she could purr her pleasure. On a return trip, his hands slipped lower still until he cupped her…the…that place upon which she sat.

  Emily’s eyes shot open in shock as he pulled her closer to him. She planned on protesting, yet found herself assisting the contact by tilting that part of her forward until her, well, until they were touching most intimately.

  The layers of her petticoats and skirt were too thick to allow her to feel anything, which was most frustrating. She knew that men were different from women, but no one had been clear on the specifics. How unfair. Her one experience for knowing and she had no way to find out the truth.

  Lucas pulled away slightly. She thought he was going to say something, but instead he kissed her cheek, her jaw, then that spot behind her ear. When he nibbled on her earlobe, she both laughed and shuddered.

  “Emily,” he breathed softly. “Who would have thought you’d be like this?”

  “Like what?”

  He raised his head and gazed into her eyes. His expression was different from any she’d ever seen before. A muscle twitched in his jaw and there was a smoldering darkness in his eyes.

  He groaned. “You really don’t know, do you? Which is why I shouldn’t be here.”

  He kissed her quickly and fiercely, then walked away without a backward glance. Emily stared after him, confused, still tingling and not sure if their situation had been improved or made worse.

  Lucas stalked into his office and slammed the door shut. He headed for his desk and yanked open the bottom drawer. But after staring at the bottle of whiskey there, he kicked the drawer closed and sank into his chair.

  Damn, he thought grimly. What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t go around kissing Emily like that. It would only lead to trouble. She was too innocent. Worse, she was his wife. If he didn’t control himself, he couldn’t get the marriage annulled. Consummating the marriage would complicate everything. And complications were the last thing he needed.

  But the speech wasn’t working. His arousal throbbed painfully and he found himself wanting Emily with a desperation he couldn’t recall experiencing before. She wasn’t like the women he generally chose to warm his bed. For that he liked charming and willing. For a while there had been Rose, a widow traveling through the West as a way to ease her suffering. They’d spent a long summer together, helping each other. When she’d moved on, he’d missed the pleasures of her body, but little else.

  There were the girls at Miss Cherry’s, and other women in other places. Women he could laugh with and share a bed with, all without having to worry about anything more than walking away.

  Emily wasn’t like that. He supposed the problem with Emily was that he cared about her. She’d begun to matter. Maybe it was because she was so smart and prim. Those dresses and her formal manner of speech all cried out spinster. Yet she had a big heart. She did what she thought was right without caring about the town’s opinion. And she kissed as if she’d been born for pleasure.

  He rubbed his hands across his face and tried to think about something other than the way Emily had felt in his arms. He couldn’t be with her in that way. He knew that. She would make some man a damn fine wife, just not him. He couldn’t risk it. Loving someone, being loved, was not allowed. He’d been spared, but he hadn’t paid for his sins.

  He dropped his hands to the desk and drew in a deep breath. That’s what he had to remember. He’d been sentenced to hell, and he refused to make Emily live there with him.

  She needed a plan, Emily decided two days later. Despite the way Lucas had kissed her, he now seemed determined to avoid her. He’d even made excuses not to dine with her for the past two nights. Men were most confusing creatures, but she was going to figure them out. Or if not all of them, at least the man she’d married. She was stubborn enough and smart enough to be able to look at the problem from many directions. What she didn’t have was information.

  Which explained why she was lurking in the hallway of her hotel a little after midnight, a time when she would have normally been in bed. She was waiting up for the one person who might be able to help her.

  Dixie entertained men, so she must know many things about them. Emily was reasonably confident she didn’t need quite that much information, but whom better to ask? She’d tried to speak with Dixie that morning, but Mary had been dusting the stairs and within earshot. Which meant Emily was now forced to lurk like a common criminal.

  Fifteen minutes later she heard steps on the stairs. Hep greeted their permanent guest with an “Evening, Dixie.”

  “Hello, Hep. You look especially fine tonight.”

  Emily smiled as she imagined the bent old miner blushing and ducking his gray head. Hep mumbled something she couldn’t hear, then Dixie appeared at the end of the corridor.

  If the tall woman was surprised to see her landlord hovering in the hallway, she didn’t show it. Instead she nodded slightly and opened her door, then ushered Emily inside. Emily went quickly and shut the door behind her.

  “I take it you wish to speak with me,” Dixie said in the darkness of the room. “Should I be concerned?”

  “What? Oh, no.”

  Emily laced her fingers together in front of her waist and paced to the window. While Dixie lit the lantern, Emily busied herself with closing the drapes. She turned back to her guest and forced a smile as the lantern caught, illuminating the small room.

  “You look very lovely,” she said, taking in the green silk dress.

  The garment shimmered in the light. Tiny sleeves hugged to Dixie’s shoulders while the bodice of the dress clung in a way that made Emily blush. So much of her, ah, chest was exposed, it seemed she might fall out at any moment. The bodice was fitted to the waist, where it flared out over petticoats, falling in graceful swags to the floor.

  Dixie wore her hair in an intricate style of sweeping curls. Matching green flowers decorated her hair. Her arms were bare except for several gold bracelets. Her face—a perfect oval defined by large eyes and full lips—looked slightly flushed. Emily wondered if the color came from cosmetics. She’d heard of such things but had never used any herself.

  Dixie settled in the room’s only chair to wait for Emily to speak. Emily drew in a deep breath.

  “This is most difficult for me,” she admitted. After all, she was married and should, by now, understand the workings of a man. Pride made her want to leave, but the need to know was stronger.

  “Take your time,” Dixie said. “I’m not going anywhere.” She nodded to the bed. “Maybe you’d feel better if you sat.”

  Emily glanced at the bed, then at the woman. She suddenly thought of Lucas and wondered if he’d ever…if he and Dixie had…well, if, when he’d visited Miss Cherry’s place, he’d ever chosen her.

  “I—”

  The thought made her limbs go weak. She sank onto the bed rather than fall onto the floor. All the breath seemed to leave her and she suddenly wanted to cry.

  “It’s about Lucas,” she forced herself to say.

  Dixie surprised her by leaning forward and taking her hands. “Is that what has you so upset? Were you wondering if he and I were ever together?”

  Emily didn’t answer. She only stared at the long, pale fingers touching her own.

  “Let me set your mind to rest,” Dixie told her. “Lucas and I have known each other a long time. A few years back, he paid for my services a time or two, but we found we enjoyed talking more. We’re friends, Emily. That’s all. Besides, Lucas hasn’t come calling at Miss Cherry’s since the wedding, so you have nothing to worry about.”

/>   Dixie squeezed her hands, then released them. “Does that help?”

  Emily nodded. “Some. I mean I’m happy to know that he’s not going there to do that.” Whatever “that” was. “But I need to speak with you about something else. And you must promise to be completely honest with me.”

  Dixie raised her eyebrows. “I’ve found that being completely honest often leads to trouble, but if you insist.”

  “I do.” Emily straightened. “I would very much appreciate it if you help me be more attractive. I would like to have Lucas notice me.” She felt heat flaring on her cheeks, but she forced herself to go on. “I understand that, given my appearance, you may think the task impossible. If so, please tell me.”

  Dixie studied her. “That would be the completely honest part.”

  “Yes.”

  Humiliation filled her, but Emily forced herself to keep her chin high.

  Dixie pressed her lips together. “I’m trying to figure out what it is you’re not telling me. Is this about seducing Lucas?”

  Emily’s shoulders slumped and she covered her face with her hands. “Is it so obvious that he finds me easy to ignore? It is impossible, isn’t it?”

  “Honey, no.” Dixie moved to the bed and put her arm around Emily. “I can help you look very pretty. You have lovely hair and beautiful eyes.”

  Emily dropped her hands to her lap and looked at the other woman. “Really?”

  “I swear.”

  “And you’ll help me?”

  “I would be happy to.” She glanced around her room. “You’re not going to like this, Emily, but we really need to go to Miss Cherry’s. She has lots of dresses and lingerie. You’ll have to sneak in the back, though. Still, it will be worth it.”

  Emily wasn’t sure she could do that, but she didn’t have a choice. “Thank you,” she said, then swallowed. “Do you know why he married me?”

  “Because of Uncle Simon’s will.”

  “So you really are friends.”

  “Yes.”

  She took a deep breath. “Am I a fool for trying to capture his attention?”

  Dixie smiled. “Actually I think you’re very smart and very brave. Lucas won’t make it easy, but I suspect he’s one of the few men who are worth the trouble.”

  Emily couldn’t believe she was sneaking into the rear of a house of ill repute. Her! Emily MacIntyre, scurrying around in broad daylight. But here she was, checking both ways before scuttling up the rear steps and following Dixie through the open doorway.

  “You need smelling salts?” Dixie asked in a teasing voice. “Is your heart going to give out from the shame?”

  “I’ll just be extra fervent in my prayers,” Emily told her, and was surprised to find herself smiling.

  Dixie laughed. “You do that. And mention my name.” She motioned for Emily to follow her. “We’ll use the back stairs. There’s less chance of discovery that way.”

  Emily trailed after her hostess. They left the plain mudroom and entered a busy kitchen. A woman stood at the stove, removing a tray of biscuits from the oven. Two boys were peeling vegetables. Emily glanced around in interest.

  “I didn’t know that meals were served here,” she said.

  Dixie shook her head. “They’re not for the customers. It’s for the girls. We have to keep up our strength.”

  Emily opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn’t know what to say. Dixie chuckled and kept walking.

  Keeping up their strength? Emily was both shocked and intrigued. So it took effort, to do those things with men. She still didn’t know what it was exactly that they did. Maybe if she asked Dixie, she could—

  Emily stepped into the hallway leading to the rear stairs and came to a stunned halt. To her left was the front room of the house. She could hear a male voice but couldn’t see anyone. But what was within view was enough to make her gape.

  The walls were covered with deep red fabric. The wood trim and ceiling were cream and there were flecks of gold in the paint. All the occasional tables were gilded, as were the legs of the sofa she saw. The sofa itself was red, as was the carpet.

  Something tugged on her arm. She saw Dixie had returned to her side and was urging her toward the stairs. “Stop staring,” the other woman said. “You want to get caught?”

  “No. Of course not. I just didn’t know there was that much red and gold in the world.”

  “Now you know. Hurry.”

  Emily picked up her skirts and ran lightly toward the second floor. Dixie waved her forward and they eased into the second door on the right.

  “This is my room,” Dixie said, “when I’m working. Stay here while I go get Cherry and some clothes.”

  Emily barely heard her leave. She was too busy looking around at the magnificent bedroom. It was easily twice the size of the room Dixie rented at the hotel. In the center was a large four-poster bed so high that there was a step stool to help one up to the mattress. The coverlet was a patchwork of red velvet, lace and satin. Across from the bed was a huge mirror, with a low sofa in front of it. A dresser stood in the corner. Leather straps slipped from a drawer onto the floor.

  Emily glanced at herself in the mirror and saw that her mouth was open. She forced her lips together and tried to imagine what went on in this room. She recalled Dixie saying that she and Lucas had been intimate a few times, years before. Her chest tightened at the thought of someone else knowing her husband in a way she didn’t.

  Before she had a chance to get comfortable in the room, Dixie reappeared, bringing with her a petite blond woman in a red dress.

  “Emily, this is Cherry.”

  Cherry was older, perhaps close to forty, with beautiful pale skin and light blue eyes. She wore her blond hair piled high on her head and had a beauty patch on her right cheek. But her most impressive feature was her bosom. Around her even Dixie looked small. Emily knew she looked as flat as a ten-year-old.

  She folded her arms over her chest and tried to smile. “Ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Cherry offered a wide smile. “Don’t you dare call me ma’am, like I’m an old woman. We don’t stand on ceremony here, honey. Come on. Let me welcome you proper.”

  Cherry advanced and caught Emily in a hug. She barely came to Emily’s shoulder but she was plenty strong and about squeezed the life out of her. Then Cherry reached up and patted Emily’s cheek.

  “I owe you for taking those poor girls in. I couldn’t believe it when their bastard of a father wanted to sell them to me. I took ’em because if I didn’t, someone else would. But I had no use for ’em. Alice was practically of an age to make a decision about working for me and she wasn’t interested. Mary was too young and too pretty to stay around here. I tell you, I was mighty worried. So you saved me from that.”

  She clapped her hands together and turned to Dixie, who had several dresses over one arm. “Now Dixie tells me you want us to fix you up so your new husband pays attention to you.” Cherry grinned. “I don’t guess you want to know the secrets of keeping him happy in bed.”

  Emily blinked but didn’t know what to say.

  “We can teach her that later,” Dixie said, setting the dresses on the bed. She walked to the armoire on the far side of the room and pulled it open. “Right now let’s get him to notice her. Once she’s had him in her bed for a year or two, we’ll worry about keeping him there.”

  She glanced at Emily over her shoulder. “Take off your clothes.”

  Emily hesitated. Dixie pointed to the dresses on the bed. “You need to take off what you’re wearing if you want to try on those.”

  “Yes,” Emily said with a cheer she didn’t feel. “Of course.”

  She forced herself to reach for the buttons running down the front of her gray dress. Cherry moved behind her and began pulling the pins from her knot of hair.

  “Let’s see what this looks like, too,” Cherry said. “It’s a real pretty color. Does it go to your waist?”

  There was a tug, then her hair tu
mbled free. Before Emily could answer, Cherry sighed. “Beautiful. And there’s a wave in it. Honey, why are you wearing your hair all caught back like that? It’s not particularly flattering. You gotta let it be a little loose. Kinda like me.”

  She chuckled at her own humor. Emily tried to smile, but she was also dealing with the embarrassment of undressing in front of these two women.

  Finally she got her dress unbuttoned and slid it off her shoulder. After stepping out of it, she set it on the bed. Dixie walked over and stared at her.

  “She’s skinny,” Cherry said bluntly. “Not much on top. Still, we can make the most of what God gave her and lie about the rest.”

  Dixie smiled reassuringly. “The French have solved your problem. With a few tucks, some lace and tiny stitches, they have worked miracles. Take off your petticoats.”

  Emily began untying the layers of cotton. When she was down to her chemise, she was humiliated to discover that they expected her to take that off, too.

  Heat flared on her cheeks as she bared herself to the waist. But neither woman took any time to stare at her. Instead they slipped a new lacy garment over her head. It fit tightly under her bosom, pushing up her meager curves and barely covering the puckered tips.

  “Better,” Cherry pronounced. “You have a tiny waist. You need to show that off. And gray. Emily, what were you thinking? You need to wear blue or rose. Colors that bring out your eyes.”

  A sound of laughter came from downstairs. Cherry shook her head. “I have to return to my guests. Dixie will take care of you, honey. The dress and the undergarments are my gift. If you want to order any more, tell Dixie and she’ll write it all down.” Cherry paused at the door and winked. “You’d be surprised how many good women have me order things for them from France. Those French know how to keep a woman beautiful and a man happy.”

  With that, she was gone. Emily stared after her. “She’s so different from anyone I’ve ever known.”

  “It’s part of her charm. Cherry might live an unconventional life, but she’s a good woman.”

  Emily glanced at Dixie. “So are you. I appreciate you taking the time with me.”

 

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