The Scent of Jasmine (12 page)

“I know, but I did some good. I got a letter to Nate.”

“You what?” Alex had to pause to nod at a man walking by. “You did what?”

“I got some people to deliver a letter to my brother. I asked Nate to go to Charleston and figure out what really happened.”

Since Alex had sent exactly the same request to the same person, he could make no reply.

Cay misunderstood his silence and started to defend herself. “If you’d just listen to me, I can explain everything.”

“All right,” Alex said. “What’s this about our room?”

“Eliza—that’s the waitress’s name—gave us one of the private rooms. You and I have to share a bed, but—”

“That’s not good.”

“All right, then, I’ll tell her that you’d rather we stayed in one of the big rooms with eight beds in it. If I don’t sleep with you, then it’ll have to be with another man. This place is too full for anyone to have a separate bed.”

Alex glared at her. “Are you finished with that?”

Cay shoved three huge bites of apples and syrup in her mouth and stood up. “I am now.” She had to wipe her lips with the back of her hand as the juices overflowed on to her chin.

“Upstairs,” he said. “Unless you want to fiddle with some more petticoats.”

“No, I’ll leave that to Josiah.”

“Don’t tell me he’s another one of your suitors.”

“Keep your voice down!” Cay hissed at him. “Josiah is the man Eliza loves and they’re eloping tomorrow, and they’re going to live on the farm my father owns, the one I told you about.”

Alex’s eyes widened. He almost asked if she meant
his
farm, the one that Nate had worked hard to save from being sold, the farm that Alex had been saving money to buy, where he planned to live with his wife and their children. Instead, he followed Cay up the stairs to the small room that had been prepared for them. He was glad to see that a long bolster pillow had been tossed onto the bed. It was used to separate strangers when they shared beds in the inns along the roads.

“All right,” he said, “I’m ready to listen.” He sat down on the only chair in the room and waited.

“I was on my way back from the privy when I heard some sounds, so I—”

“What kind of sounds?”

“Uh . . .” She hesitated. How could she say that she heard kissing sounds, the rustle of fabric, and heavy breathing without sounding like she was spying? Which, in a way, was what she’d been doing. But wouldn’t anyone be curious in such an instance?

“Out with it,” Alex said. “And don’t take the time to make up some story you think I’ll like. What did you hear and what did you do?”

“I heard some sounds in one of the stalls in the barn and since I was being very cautious, of course I wanted to investigate.” She glanced at him to see if he was buying that story, and she was glad he was looking at her in that patronizing, avuncular way that she was coming to know well. He looked much better now that his hair was trimmed and pulled back, but his face was still covered with whiskers. However, there seemed to be fewer lines at his eyes, and he looked younger than she’d first supposed. Maybe it was the dim light in the room.

As she sat down on the end of the bed, she asked herself why she was bothering to sugarcoat the truth. After all, this man wasn’t related to her, so why did she have to protect him from the realities of life? “I heard sounds of lovemaking.”

“Lovemaking?”

“Yes. Kissing, that sort of thing. I went toward it and I saw Eliza and Josiah in the stall and they were kissing and . . . and . . .” She waved her hand. He could fill in the rest for himself. “I started to tiptoe away, but then Eliza began to cry.”

“So you went back,” Alex said. “Don’t you realize that that’s just what a female would do? How can you keep your disguise if you always act like a girl?”

“Might I remind you that on that first night when I cried, you handed me a handkerchief? Does that make
you
a girl?”

Alex turned his head away to hide his smile, but she saw it.

“So what was Eliza’s problem?” Alex asked, and she could tell that the anger was gone. She knew that the cause of his bad temper was that he’d been worried about her.

“Her father wants her to marry a rich old man.”

“And I take it that she wants to marry a young and poor one.”

“Yes. She’s in love with Josiah, but he hasn’t a penny.” Cay was looking at Alex and thinking how familiar he’d become to her in the last few days. When she thought of being in Charleston with Hope and Uncle T.C., it seemed like a very long time ago.

“So what did you do? Give them a farm?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. After all he and Nate had done, it now looked as though Cay was blithely going to give the farm to someone else. Never before had he resented her sense of entitlement, but he did now.

“I told them that if they’d take my letters to my family I’d see that my father gave them jobs. Josiah likes to grow things, and since my father has a farm that needs a manager, I suggested that place in my letter to my father. What is wrong with you? You’re acting like I did something I shouldn’t have. I thought you’d be pleased that I was able to get letters out, one to Nate telling him the truth, and one to my father telling him I’m having a great time in Charleston. They’ll be delivered in person.”

Alex was concerned that the Charleston paper would have included Cay’s name in their stories of the prison break and that by now her father and brothers were in town. But he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Did the barmaid know you were female? Is that why she let you . . . ?” He made a gesture in front of his chest.

“No, she thinks I’m a boy who is making it possible for her to elope with the man she loves. As for the . . .” Cay made the same gesture he had. “Her shirt was out of place from the . . . you know, in the stables with Josiah, and I was fixing it for her. I’m afraid I forgot that I’m supposed to be a boy. For a minute. I only forgot for one minute, and I won’t forget again. Those men certainly made a fuss over that, didn’t they?”

“Yes, they did. Much too much of a fuss, and because of it, they’ll remember us well.” Alex got up, went to the narrow window, and looked out. He needed to get himself under control. She’d done a good job and he had no right to be angry at her. If T.C. had managed to keep her name out of the papers, and if for some reason Alex’s letter had never reached Nate, Cay had done a
very
good thing. And she wasn’t the one who’d stolen a dream from him. That had been done when Lilith had been . . . taken from the earth.

Cay knew nothing of Alex’s worries. She was thinking that it was odd being in the small room with him, as they’d mostly been out of doors together. But with walls that confined the space, it was much more intimate than being outside. Cay went to stand beside him. “Are you thinking about your wife?” she asked softly.

“Yes. I wanted to raise horses, and we were going to—” Breaking off, he turned to look at her. Her thick hair was loose from the tie at the back, and her long eyelashes looked up at him in innocence.

Cay could feel the awkwardness between them and she didn’t like it. She liked the easy camaraderie they’d developed and she wanted to keep it. “You sure do smell good,” she said.

Smiling, Alex turned away from the window, and the uncomfortable moment was gone. “I want this side of the bed, the one near the door.”

“So in case someone bursts in you can protect me?” She’d meant the words to be a jest, but the moment she said them, she wished she hadn’t. It sounded like she was referring to the night his wife died. “I didn’t mean—”

He had his back to her, and she couldn’t see his face, but he drew his shoulders up for a moment but then released them. “I will do all that I can to protect you.” Turning, he looked at her, and for just a second she saw the deep pain that was inside him.

I must make him laugh, she thought. His sense of humor was what drew him out of himself. She began to unbutton her shirt.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.

“I’ve ordered a bath to be brought up and I’m going to get into a tub full of hot water.”

Alex looked shocked for a moment, then his face relaxed. Yet again, the pain was hidden. “And I’m going to wash your back for you.”

“Eliza’s going to do that.”

“Then I’ll wash
her
chest.”

Cay laughed, as he’d bested her. She couldn’t top that one. “Turn around. I have to remove this binding strip before I go to bed.”

“You slept in a corset, so why can’t you sleep in that?” he asked as he turned his back to her.

“A corset enhances what’s on top, but this thing . . . Oh, there. Yes, that’s wonderful. True heaven. You can turn back around now.”

Turning, Alex looked at her and wished he hadn’t. She had the shirt on and it was buttoned, but it left little to the imagination. “Why in the world those men thought you were a boy is beyond me.”

“Thank you,” Cay said as she sat on the end of the bed and removed her shoes and her stockings.

“That’s it. Not one more thing are you to take off.”

Cay couldn’t help smiling. She’d been paid many compliments in her life, but what Alex said seemed more real. He wasn’t saying nice things to her because he knew her family was rich or that she stood to inherit a lot, but because she was, well, desirable. For all the comfort of boy’s clothes, she liked being a girl better.

Still smiling, still mostly dressed, she got into the bed on the side by the window, pulled the light covers over her, and watched Alex as he moved about the room. She thought how someday she’d be married and alone in a bedroom with a man she loved and they’d be a true husband and wife.

Alex removed his boots and his vest, but as he started to unbutton his shirt, he looked at her and stopped. As she did, he slipped into bed wearing most of his clothes, blew out the candle, and pulled the cover over him.

Cay lay in the darkness, listening to him breathe. They’d spent several nights together, but, somehow, being alone in this small room seemed more intimate. Between them was the long, heavy round pillow, but she knew he was near her.

She was tired from a long day on horseback and wanted to go to sleep, but she could hear Alex’s breath coming on fast and strong and she knew that something was upsetting him. It took her a moment to figure it out, but then she realized that this was probably the first time he’d slept in a bed and a room since the night his wife had been murdered.

Had been murdered,
she thought and realized she’d remembered it in terms that said Alex didn’t do it. “What was she like?” Cay asked softly.

“Quiet,” he said, and at first she thought he was saying he wanted her, Cay, to stop talking. But she could hear his breath and she knew she’d been right in guessing what he was thinking about.

“Not like me then?” she asked.

“No, not like you. She was quiet and gentle and refined.”

“She didn’t spend her days jumping back and forth on a horse, did she?”

“No. But I will say that I enjoyed some of your jumping quite a bit.”

Cay could hear and feel the uneasiness beginning to leave him. Her strategy was working. Turning on her side, she put her head on her hand and looked at him across the big pillow. He was on his back and she could see his profile in the moonlight that came in through the window. “Tell me about her.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. Where did she grow up? What was her family like? Where did she go to school? How many brothers and sisters did she have?”

“I don’t know,” Alex said, and there was wonder in his voice. “I don’t know the answer to any of those questions.”

“You don’t know where she grew up?”

“No.” Turning, Alex looked at her. “I never asked and she never told me. But then, we were together for such a short time.”

Cay lay back on the pillow. “That’s odd. I told you about my family ten minutes after we met.”

“Aye, you did, lass. You’ve told me so much about your life and your family that I feel I know them. But Lilith wasn’t like you. She said little, just what was important.”

“But family
is
important. Family is everything. I know your father means a lot to you. Did you tell your wife about him?”

“I did. I told her a great deal about my life in Scotland and about my dad. She liked to listen to the stories. She couldn’t understand me when I didn’t speak with the American accent, but I couldn’t blame her for that, now could I?”

Cay was glad to hear the humor in his voice and she was pleased to hear his breathing slow down. She’d done what she intended and calmed him. Of course it did cross her mind that if she had any sense at all she’d not spend the night locked in a room with a man who’d been convicted for cutting the throat of the woman lying beside him.

Just as she felt his change in mood, he knew when there was a difference in her breathing. “If you’d rather I went into another room, I will.”

“No,” she said. “I feel safer with you here.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, then he reached across the big pillow and took her small hand in his. “Thank you for that. You’re only the second person who has believed in me.”

Cay liked his big, warm hand on hers—liked it too much. She removed her hand and turned on her side, facing away from him. “If you go off into Florida without showing me how to do that handkerchief trick, I’ll take it all back.” She smiled when she heard him chuckle, and his breathing eased and she heard him go to sleep. His soft, quiet breathing relaxed her, but she looked at the moon out the window and thought about what was going to happen in the next few days.

Thanks to her many questions, she’d been able to piece together his “plan” for her. His intent was to dump her on some friends of Uncle T.C. while Alex went exploring. After a week or two, still dressed as a boy, Cay was to travel back to her parents’ home in Virginia and hope that nothing ever came about because of her escapade of helping a criminal escape. There was no more talk of trying to prove Alex’s innocence as there had been at first. Somewhere along the way, he seemed to have dropped that idea. For the last couple of days he’d spoken only of Cay returning to her family and safety.