The Scent of Jasmine (10 page)

“No. I . . .” She hiccuped and sniffed as she drew back her tears. “Actually, I know very little about you.”

“Except what you read in the papers,” he said, and she felt his body stiffen.

“Actually, I didn’t read them. All I know is what Hope told me.” When her words had no effect on him, she did what she would have with one of her brothers and began to stroke his hair in a way that she knew would calm him. “Do you like any other animals besides racehorses?”

“I like all of them,” he said. “Birds, horses, raccoons, I like them.”

“What about spiders?”

He smiled. “Less so, but yes. I did a very bad thing back in Scotland. I did it twice.”

She continued combing. His hair was spread out over her lap and it was coated with the fragrant oil. “My brothers have done some things that my father didn’t like. One time, I’m not sure what Nate did, but my father was angry at him for an entire week.”

Alex couldn’t help grinning. He knew exactly what Nate had done, why he’d done it, and what his father had thought his son had done. But he wasn’t going to tell Cay that. “I secretly mated my mare to Lord Brockinghurst’s great stallion. Twice.”

Cay laughed. “Did you?”

“Aye, I did. I had a lovely little mare, as feisty as can be. A bit like you, really. And I took her down south to England and waited until the man’s fastest stallion was put in the pasture at night. He charged a lot to mate a mare with the great beast, but I couldn’t afford it.”

“So you stole what didn’t belong to you.”

“I like to think that I gave the horse the pleasure of my pretty mare for the night.”

“So you were a philanthropist.”

“More or less.” He was smiling.

“And what was the result of your generosity?”

“The first colt was female, and as you know, mares can’t run as fast as males.”

“Maybe they don’t want to,” Cay said. “Maybe they want to stay in one place and be with their families.”

Alex opened one eye to look up at her. “I’ll get you home, lass, don’t worry about it.”

“Looking like a boy? Maybe I should take up chewing tobacco.”

He was still looking at her. “Mayhaps you should, lass, for you don’t look like a boy now. Your hair is—”

When he started to reach up to touch it, she pushed his hand away. “We were talking about horses.”

“Ah, yes.” Turning back around, he closed his eyes. He well knew that whatever had been in his hair had long since been combed out, but he was glad she wasn’t pushing him away. “The second colt was a beauty, perfect in every way.”

“Meaning that it was male.”

“Of course. What else could be perfect?” When she started to push his head out of her lap, he laughed and caught her hand. “I’m only teasing, lass. Do you not know that?”

She relented and continued combing. “So what did you do?”

“I had a plan, you see.”

“And what was that?”

He wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t, for the plan involved her family. He knew that about ten years ago, Nate’s father, Cay’s father, had purchased a horse farm not far from Edilean. There was a house and a barn, a stream, a pond, everything a man could need to raise a family and horses. Nate had written about the place and said that his father had too much to do to take proper care of it, so the farm was losing money. When Alex wrote back that it sounded like his dream farm, Nate had begged his father not to sell it, hinting that he might someday want the place for his own.

It had been the possibility of someday owning a farm near his friend that had spurred Alex on in his life. His father had told him about the opportunities to be found in America, and Alex had long dreamed of going there. His plan had been to win enough money from racing his horses to buy the farm, then his father would come to America and live with him. Everything had gone a little off track when he’d met Lilith and married her before he had enough money to purchase the farm, but he knew enough to take love when he found it. Of course Lilith hadn’t exactly been what a man thought of as a farm wife, but he’d been sure all that could have been worked out.

“What was your plan?” Cay asked when he was silent.

“To make a lot of money. Isn’t that why everyone comes to America?”

“And did you?”

“Yes.” He opened his eyes to stare into the darkness. There was light from the fire, but the sun had gone down and evening had come quickly. “I boarded a ship with my three horses, the mother and her two children. My plan was to breed the mares and race the son. Tarka was a fast—”

“Tarka? That was the name of my father’s fastest pony when he lived in Scotland. I rode him when I was a girl.”

Alex almost said that Nate had written the story to him, and it’s why Alex had named his horse that, but he didn’t. “It’s a common enough name.”

“Is it? I thought it was rather unusual. So you brought your horses to America and you raced them? Or just Tarka?”

“My little mare could beat most of their horses. I saved Tarka for when I wanted to win a big purse.”

“I see. You made them think that they might be able to beat you, but then you brought out another horse. Did you keep him hidden?”

“You have a devious mind,” he said, but he was smiling.

“Is that what you did?”

“Aye, it’s exactly what I did. I kept Tarka hidden so far out in the country that not one of those rich boys could find him. I won races and lost them, but then I brought out Tarka.” His smile broadened. “You should have seen him. Tall and black and as beautiful as the sunrise. He was a magnificent animal, and he knew it. He walked with his head high and his tail up, and he wouldn’t so much as look at the other horses. And run! On a racetrack, he took off as though the other horses were there to graze. He beat them by lengths. There was nothing in America that could touch him.”

Cay was frowning. “You sound as though he’s . . .” She hesitated. “As though he’s no longer alive. What happened to him?”

“I don’t know,” Alex said, and the joy went out of his voice. “When I was accused of murder, everything I had was taken from me. I asked T.C. what happened to my horses, but he knew nothing and could find out nothing.”

“You should have told Uncle T.C. you’d found a plant that no one had ever seen before and he would have moved the earth to find it.”

Alex smiled, his good humor back. “You always make me laugh, lass.” He turned over on his side and looked up at her. “When I get my name cleared, I’ll get Tarka and his mother and sister back.”

“And how do you mean to clear your name?”

“I have—” He started to say that he’d already done a lot of work toward clearing his name, but since what he’d done involved her brother, he couldn’t tell her of it. When T.C. visited him in prison, Alex had written to Nate about the facts of what had happened to him. Alex knew the guards wouldn’t let him keep pen and paper, so he’d had to write the letter over many visits, and T.C. had taken the pages when he left. When Alex had written everything, T.C. hired a rider to take the long, detailed letter to Nate. Alex had thought there’d be enough time for Nate to come to him and they could talk about what had happened, but the judge said that Alex’s crime was so heinous that he was to be hanged two days after the verdict came in. There hadn’t been time for Nate to receive the letter, then get to Charleston and clear Alex.

“You have what?”

Alex got up and put more wood on the fire. “Nothing, lass. I have nothing at all.”

She knew he was lying. She was sure he’d meant to say that he’d figured out something to do, but he wouldn’t tell her what it was. She was trusting him with her
life,
but he couldn’t so much as tell her what he was going to do to defend himself. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. When she put the towel beside her, the scent of jasmine was all around them. “Could you please call me something besides ‘lass’?”

His mouth went up on one side in a half smile. “As soon as you call me anything at all.”

“That’s absurd. I call you . . .”

“Aye, what do you call me?”

“Mr. McDowell.”

“I like that.” When he stretched, his damp shirt clung to the muscles in his back. “It shows that you have respect for your elders. Perhaps you could add a ‘sir’ to it now and then, as is proper in our present situation.”

“Present . . . ?” she said. “If it weren’t for my rescuing you, you’d be dead by now. When I first saw you, you were on foot and being chased by men who were shooting at you. What happened to the men who broke you free?”

“One was shot and the other turned himself in,” Alex said quietly.

“How did you get away?”

“Rolled away in the dark and came up running. I didn’t think I’d escape them.” Looking at her, he smiled. “But a lovely young girl dressed for a party was waiting there to save me. You looked like an angel.”

“That’s not what you said at the time. You told me you were doomed.”

“You misunderstood me. I said I thought I’d died and gone to Heaven.”

“You said—” she began, then realized he was teasing her. “Yes, I do believe that you referred to me as an angel and you were oh, so very glad to see me there waiting for you.”

“That’s just how I remember it, too.” His eyes were twinkling in the firelight, and she couldn’t help smiling back.

“Lass, I think . . .” He looked at her. “Cay, I think we should get some sleep. We’ll leave early tomorrow morning.”

She groaned. “Before daylight again. When I’m at home, my maid wakes me with a pot of hot chocolate, and I lie in bed and sip it while she asks me what I want to wear that day.”

“Sounds very boring,” he said as he stirred the fire.

“No, it’s . . .” She looked around them at the still night. They were far enough south now that the plants were beginning to change. She’d noticed flowers that she’d only seen in Uncle T.C.’s drawings. “I didn’t think it was boring then,” she said as she looked at the ground. “Alex.”

“What did you say?”

“That when I was at home, I didn’t think it was boring.”

“No, I heard that. What was the last part?”

She smiled. “Alex. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No, I like Mr. McDowell better.”

She picked up a clod of dirt and threw it at him, and when she hit his arm, he made sounds as though he were truly hurt. “You aren’t a gentleman.”

“Never wanted to be. I just wanted what a gentleman’s stallion had.”

Laughing, she stood up. “I think it is time for sleep. I’ll just have my maid warm the bed for me and get my chocolate and I’ll be ready to turn in.” She expected him to laugh, but he was looking at her hard. “What is it?”

“You don’t look like a boy.”

“I hope not.” She glanced down at her clothes. “I must say that these breeches do give a person a great deal of freedom. And the lack of . . . of certain undergarments made riding today much easier.”

“No, it’s the way you walk, the way you move. Lass—” He held up his hand. “Cay, I mean, you’ll never pass as a boy looking like that.”

She put her hand to her hair. She was
not
going to cry! “I know. My hair is—”

“I could shave your head and you’d still look like a girl. It’s the way you stand, the way you move your hands.”

“What’s wrong with the way I move my hands?”

“There’s nothing wrong with any of it if you’re a lady entering a ballroom. But you look like a girl in boy’s clothing.”

“Oh,” she said, at last understanding what he meant. “You want me to move like Tally does.”

“I don’t know, but try it.”

She walked to the far side of the fire, put her shoulders back, her flattened chest out, and strode past him with a swagger that said she was the best and the greatest. When she stopped, she used her fist to wipe her nose, and looked at him in an insolent way, as though daring him to fight her.

Alex chuckled, then he full out laughed. “Surely you’re not telling the truth. The boy couldn’t walk like that.”

“He does all the time.”

“Let’s try it again, only this time not as though you’re trying to start a brawl. Shoulders back is good, but less swagger to your walk.”

“Maybe more like Adam.” She walked again, only this time she ate up the ground in just a few long strides, and she had a look that said she was too busy to pay attention to the rest of the world.

Alex cleared his throat to keep from laughing.

“No good? How about Ethan?”

Alex put out his hand to say she could try it.

Cay went back the other way, only this time she went slowly, noticing everything, and when her eyes lit on Alex, she gave him a long look, as though she’d never seen him before but would very much like to get to know him.

“Lord in Heaven!” Alex said. “Surely the boy doesn’t do
that.
”

Cay shrugged. “Girls follow him down the street.”

“Well, uh, I don’t think that you need to do that. We don’t want people following us. What about the other brother? What was his name?”

“Nathaniel. Nate.”

Cay looked about for something, then picked up a leather satchel lying by her saddle. “Pretend this is a book.” She held it close to her face and walked slowly across the space, oblivious to everything but the book. When she came to the end, she kept her head down but walked around a tree.

She returned to the fire and looked at Alex. “Well?”

He couldn’t keep from laughing. “I don’t think any of them are right. Could you not . . ?”

“Not what?”

“Well, lass . . . Cay, could you not walk like
me
?”

“Oh? You mean like this?” She puffed out her chest, put on a frown, and glared down at an imaginary person. “Can’t you come on, lass? I haven’t got all day. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.” She hurried off into the darkness, leaving herself behind.

“I don’t. . . ,” Alex began, then shook his head. “Maybe I do. But if you kept the walk and said nothing, you might do all right.”

“Was there a compliment in there?”

“Not from me,” he said, but he was smiling under all the hair on his face. “I think we should sleep now. We’ll work on your walk some more tomorrow.”

“You aren’t going to tell me I have to sit with my legs apart, are you?”