Travis jerked straight up as if he’d been slugged in the stomach. And to tell the truth, he wouldn’t care if somebody beat the shit out of him right now. Evidently, he needed some sense knocked into his thick head. They could beat the thought of Brooke out of his system and make him forget how much he wanted her.
The woman was poising his mind.
“Where you at?” Mammy said from behind him.
Travis swung around, feeling much like a child being caught doing something he shouldn’t. “What makes you ask a question like that?”
“Well, now,” Mammy said, tilting her head to the side and placing her hands on her hips. “I’ve already been t’ de dinin’ room and back here t’ fine you in exactly de same spot starin’ up those stairs. Did you forget t’ tell Miss Brooke somet’in’?”
“Of course not,” Travis responded his embarrassment quickly turning to annoyance. “I’m tired and my mind was wondering.”
Mammy’s eyebrow rose as she said, “Un huh.” And then she left him.
Travis started up the stairs, thinking Mammy only thought she knew more about him than she really did. “What I need is a good stiff drink and a hot bath.” Yes, that was exactly what he needed to get his head straightened out, he decided. On second thought, what he really needed was a woman. But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. He was too damn busy with the plantation.
Perhaps, once he was married to Hesione, he’d be able to push Brooke from his mind completely. After a year, Brooke would be more than willing to sell out to him, and then he’d never have to see her again.
But what would she do? Did Brooke have family? Would she have some place to go? From the few things she’d said, he didn’t think so. Then an even more terrifying realization washed over him. What if she married someone on a nearby plantation, and he would constantly see her at parties? Travis reached for the doorknob of his room, but his thoughts stopped him.
No. She couldn’t marry and stay around here -- near him!
Entirely caught up in his own emotion, he shoved open the door.
“Do you need assistance with your bath, sir?” the valet asked Lucien.
“What I need is Scotch, make it a double. And then you may draw my bath. I need a long hot soak.”
Hopefully, drive the golden-haired witch from his thoughts.
When Brooke came down to dinner later that night, she was surprised to find Travis waiting for her. Normally, he wouldn’t even be present, and she would dine alone with Mr. Jeffries. Now, she was glad that she’d dressed in her white lace dress with the small white cap sleeves. The better to seduce his interest with, she thought.
Brooke noticed that Travis’s hair was still damp from a bath, she presumed. Had he came in from the fields just to dine with her? She wanted to laugh at that silly thought. Surely, she’d been out in the sun too long and was beginning to imagine things. Travis hadn’t done anything for her since she’d been here.
Brooke nodded in greeting. “I’m surprised to see you at dinner.”
Travis’s smile was courteous as he pulled a chair out for her. The chair was at his end of the table instead of the opposite end. “Prosper has returned,” Travis told her. “Only a fool would miss one of his meals.”
So much for thinking that he’d wanted to have dinner with her, Brooke thought sourly. She should have known he wasn’t going out of his way for her. Any woman with common sense knew men always thought of their stomachs first.
A commotion sounded in the foyer, drawing both their attentions. Feminine voices grew louder as they apparently approached the dining room. A moment later, a lady entered the dining room.
“I’m home.”
Chapter Seven
Brooke jumped, startled at the sudden intrusion.
She had thought she would have more time before the other woman returned. Now, Brooke held her breath as the intruder entered the room and ran straight to Travis, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.
“Have you missed me?” she asked, then kissed him on the cheek.
“Not a bit,” Travis answered as he gave the girl a warm hug in return.
Slowly, Brooke let out the breath she’d been holding. The young woman swung toward her, and Brooke realized that the newcomer was a child and not a woman.
“I see we have company,” the child said.
“You might say that,” Travis said with his usual smirk. “If you’ll have a seat, I will introduce you.”
The servants had already appeared and were setting a place for the girl across from Brooke. When they finished the young lady took her seat with a cheerful flounce.
“Brooke Hammond, may I introduce my second cousin, Eliza Bordelon,” Travis said with a wave of his hand. “She is a headstrong twelve-year-old who needs a firm hand.”
Brooke smiled. “And that is why she was sent to you?”
Travis’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I guess you could say that. Eliza has lived with us for the last year, but she has been visiting her parents for the past month. Now I see the brat has returned.”
“I love you too, cousin,” she said, cutting her eyes at him with a frown. “I’ll have you know I am almost thirteen,” she stated firmly.
“You’re still a child,” Travis quickly pointed out, “and as such you should be seen and not heard.”
Eliza ignored him and turned her attention to Brooke. “You’re very pretty. I know your name, but I still don’t know who you are and why you’re here.”
The child was so engaging that Brooke couldn’t help wondering if she really was a member of this family. Eliza was also pretty in a childish way with a light dusting of freckles running across the bridge of her pert nose. Her hair was a lustrous shade of brown and pulled up on both sides in ringlet curls. Eliza’s inquisitive eyes were also a lovely shade of light brown. She studied Brooke with frank curiosity from across the table.
“This is Brooke Hammond, my new business partner,” Travis said simply. “I believe her room is located next to yours.”
“So she’s staying with us?” Eliza asked.
Travis nodded.
“Oh, how fun,” Eliza said clapping her hands delightedly. “I didn’t know that Travis had a partner,” Eliza said, addressing Brooke, but Travis answered.
“Neither did I,” he quipped, but Eliza appeared more interested in the new lady than paying him any attention.
Brooke smiled at the child. “I hope you don’t mind company at your end of the hall.”
“Of course not. I just love your English accent. Are you really from England?”
“Yes, I am,” Brooke said, nodding. “It was a very long trip over.”
Eliza linked her fingers together, then perched her chin on top of them. “I bet you know all the latest fashions. Did you have a coming out party and everything? I can’t wait until I get to attend all the balls and parties. I’ll dance the night away.” She sighed and for a moment was lost in her own world. “You’ll have to tell me all about the famous London parties you’ve attended.”
The child was as fresh as a whirlwind and Brooke found herself drawn to the bundle of energy. “Well I didn’t have a coming out party, but I have been to many balls, so perhaps I can entertain you with stories.”
“Oh that would be lovely.”
Travis listened to his cousin chattering to Brooke, and he realized he didn’t know much about Brooke’s life in England. Then he quickly reminded himself that he really didn’t care. She was here now, and she was in his way. “My goodness, Eliza you are a chatterbox tonight. Were you not allowed to talk on your trip back home?”
“Of course,” she said with a frown. “But my brothers and sisters are so boring.” She rolled her eyes.
“Well, my dear, I don’t think anyone will ever say that about you.” Travis rang the small bell beside his plate. “How about if we start dinner? You must be famished after your long trip.”
On cue, the servants came through the door with platters laden with food and a lar
ge soup tureen.
“It must be seven o’clock,” Brooke said with a laugh.
“Precisely,” Travis confirmed.
As he chuckled, the lines around of his face soften. He almost appeared boyish, she thought. A current of excitement raced along her spine ending in the pit of her belly. Wait a minute, she reminded herself. She wasn’t supposed to be the one lusting. Travis was. Glancing at him from beneath her lashes, Brooke found he was more interested in the soup than her.
Evidently she had lost her touch for enticing men.
Travis glanced up. “Are you not going to eat?”
She nodded, then reached for her soup spoon, stirring the mixture to see what ingredients this dish consisted of. It smelled wonderful. It seemed to be a thick soup with okra and potatoes and some kind of white meat. She noticed Travis didn’t have to tell Eliza to eat. She’d already dug into the steaming concoction with great gusto.
The first taste of the aromatic soup absolutely melted in Brooke’s mouth. “This is wonderful!”
“They don’t have gumbo in England?” Eliza asked, seeming surprised.
“Afraid not. The flavor is very, very different from the food I’m used to. What is it?”
Travis paused, his spoon in midair, before taking another bite and smiled. “It’s crab gumbo. I’m glad that you are enjoying it.”
Brooke blew on her spoon before placing the next spoonful into her mouth. Travis and Eliza were talking, so Brooke could observe the man from beneath her lashes. He seemed more relaxed tonight. Maybe having the child in the house was a good thing. She certainly seemed to do Travis some good.
Each spoonful of broth seemed to be better than the last. “I can taste the crab and many spices, some of which I do not recognize,” Brooke commented.
“I must admit it’s one of my favorite dishes,” Travis said as he reached for the long loaf of freshly baked French bread. He offered it to the ladies first before he took a slice off the end.
As each course was brought in, Brooke discovered that Prosper wasn’t boasting about his culinary abilities. He had merely stated the truth. He was a superb cook.
Finally, the last course was brought in. Dessert, a cake with butter-cream frosting that was a least four layers high, was placed before them. Just looking made Brooke’s mouth water. And tasting the confection only confirmed her first impression.
When Brooke had finished the last bite, she sighed. “I think that is possibly the most delicious meal that I’ve ever eaten.”
“Prosper is the very best,” Travis admitted. “He is the one good thing my father left to me.”
“And I was the second,” Brooke quipped.
Travis didn’t bother to comment.
“I heard about your father,” Eliza said. “I’m so sorry. Are you sad?” she asked, assuming Travis possessed an affection for his father that Brooke knew he didn’t.
“Thanks, brat. I’m fine,” he said, dismissing her question. “Now, tell me, how did you find your family when you visited?”
Brooke noted how quickly he changed the topic of his late father. He was obviously very uncomfortable with the subject when it came up.
Eliza shrugged. “The same.”
“Do you have brothers and sisters?” Brooke asked.
“Do I?” Eliza giggled. “I have eight brothers and sisters.”
“Really?” Brooke was surprised at such a large family. “I’ll wager you can’t name all of them.”
“I bet I can,” Eliza asserted. Then she began to count them off by name. “There is Constance, Marguerite, Felicete, Maria, Nicholas, Jean, Hortense and Gertrude. So you see, there isn’t much room left for me, and that’s why I asked to come and stay with Cousin Travis and Aunt Margaret.”
“I can’t imagine having so many in a family,” Brooke commented.
Eliza dabbed at her mouth with the linen napkin. “You don’t have any brothers and sisters?”
Brooke shook her head. “None at all,” she said, feeling a twinge of regret. “Just myself.” Would her life have been different if she’d had a family to care for her? It was something she’d never find out.
“That sounds heavenly to me,” Eliza said with a sigh. “I think I was meant to be an only child. I must have ended up in the wrong family.” She laughed merrily.
Travis realized his cousin was providing him with a wealth of information about his uninvited guest. That was why he hadn’t calmed her down with a reminder that all her questions were impertinent. Even twelve-year-olds were expected to act like ladies . . . not hoydens.
“May I be excused?” Eliza asked, placing her napkin across her dinner plate and breaking into Travis’s musings.
Travis didn’t realize that he had been staring at Brooke until Eliza reached across the table and touched his arm. “Uncle Travis?”
His gazed switched to the child, who had her chin propped upon her hand, apparently waiting for him to respond to something. “What?”
“I asked,” she said, pausing to give the impression that he’d kept her waiting, “May I be excused? It’s been a long day and I’m very sleepy.”
Travis nodded his assent.
Eliza stood then kissed Travis on the cheek. “Good night, Mrs. Hammond,” she said, then she turned and left Brooke and Travis alone.
“Sometimes I forget how much noise she can make,” Travis commented, more to himself than to Brooke.
“I think she is adorable,” Brooke told him. “And definitely a breath of fresh air around here.”
Travis’s lips twisted into a cynical smile. “I believe you just insulted me.”
Brooke gave him a sweet smile. “Only if you consider the truth an insult. You have to admit that the mood of this house is far too serious.”
“You always have the option of leaving,” he threw back at her.
Brooke really didn’t want to get into a sparring match with Travis tonight. She’d had a long day, as well, so she ignored his barb and asked, “Will you call Prosper in?”
For a change, Travis did as she requested. When Prosper came through the door, he looked at Travis for instructions, “Sir?”
Travis swung his hand toward Brooke. “I believe the lady would like to speak with you.”
Prosper glanced at her and executed a curt, but shallow bow. “Mademoiselle.”
“I just wanted to tell you that was possibly the best meal I have ever had the pleasure to eat,” she said, placing her right hand on her heart. “And from this day fourth, you have my undying devotion, Prosper. You must be the greatest chef alive.”
“Thank you,” he said with a confident smile and a slight nod. “I believe there may be one, possibly two better than I.”
Brooke laughed. “They would have to prove it to me.”
Prosper actually chuckled this time. He turned to Travis. “Anything else, sir?”
“That will be all,” Travis said with a shake of his head. After the cook had gone, he added, “I do believe you’ve won him over.”
Brooke stood. Then she moved around the table to where Travis was sitting. “But not the master of the house?”
He drew back and peered at her. “Do you want to win me over?”
Brooke thought for a long moment. “I would like for us to be--“ she paused, “--friends.” She reached out to touch his arm. The instant she did, a cracking shock ran up her arm, and she snatched her hand back. She noted Travis’s puzzled look and knew he’d felt the same thing. In the same instant, she felt herself losing ground. She could sense he was drawing away from her, putting up that shield that he used so well. And his next words confirmed exactly that.
“I’m afraid it’s too soon, Brooke,” he said with what she could hope was a note of regret. “You’ll have to give it time.”
Brooke didn’t respond. Was he regretting that it would take time, or that he was beginning to want to know her? Or worse still, wishing she were completely out of his life? With something new to consider, Brooke turned and left the room, all t
he time thinking but I don’t have the time. Don’t you understand?
Later that night, a thunderstorm rolled in off the Gulf, bringing with it blustery winds, torrential rain and brilliant flashes of light. A bolt of lightning struck somewhere close by.
The crash was so loud it brought Brooke straight up in bed. She clutched the covers in front of her as if they would protect her from her childhood fears. Her heart pounded in her chest. Wildly, her gaze darted around the darkened room as she tried to calm her breathing.
“Don’t be foolish,” she whispered to herself. “It’s only a storm.”
It took several moments before she was able to make herself stop gasping for air. She always told herself the same thing. It never did any good.
How foolish to be afraid of storms when they were nothing more than wind and rain. But every time a storm came upon her, she was transported back to her childhood and many unpleasant memories.
Brooke’s mother had brought her to the boarding school during a thunderstorm, leaving her there without as much as a hug. After that Brooke was pretty much on her own. She could remember huddling in bed many nights with her special blanket wrapped around her, praying the storms would go away. From that time on, storms always seemed to bring trouble in her life.
Of course, the other girls were not afraid and they’d teased her about being so silly. Everyone but Jocelyn, who’d taken up for Brooke. But as much as she tried to convince herself that there was nothing to fear, Brooke had never gotten over them.
Even now, she wondered what terrible thing would happen to her next, though she knew that it was silly to think such nonsense. The only thing that came to mind was the fiancée could return early. Of course, she’d already had that scare once tonight. Brooke looked upward. “Oh, please don’t let that happen. Give me a chance.”
She tossed back the covers and went to the hearth. With trembling fingers, she took one of the wood splinters and placed one end to the hot coals. As soon as it caught fire, she took another splinter and lit the candle on the bedside table. The flame sputtered but finally sprang to life. Next, she removed the globe off the kerosene lamp and lit the wick. The soft glow made her feel a little better. Then the next rumble of thunder rolled in.
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