Legacies (2 page)

Payton Fletcher chuckled in approval. "Spoken like the true daughter of an army officer who has learned, to her advantage, the value a man places on his honor. You will have no choice but to stay now, Lije."

"So it would seem," Lije agreed, his eyes on her, a sizzling undercurrent flowing between them. He had never been able to refuse her anything she wanted as a child. He found it equally impossible to refuse her as a woman. More than that, he didn't want to.

 

The afternoon socials, shopping expeditions, luncheons, lawn parties, and teas Diane arranged enabled her to spend a good part of every day with Lije. The first week passed in a rush that culminated in an invitation from Judge Wickham for the Fletchers and Lije to dine with them at the family estate.

Dinner was a formal affair, the meal itself lasting nearly two hours. Afterward coffee was served on the terrace. Diane strolled with Lije to its far end to view the lawn's reflecting pool and steal a few moments alone. She paused to breathe in the warm night air, attuned to the night and its magic— and to the man beside her.

"This is a grand evening. Everything has turned out so well." She glanced back at the other members of their dinner party. "Judge Wickham was very impressed with you."

"Once he recovered from the shock of learning that I was Cherokee," Lije replied dryly, a hint of censure in his tone. "You failed to inform him of that"

"Deliberately." Diane turned to face him, her eyes sparkling, her tone amused. "Not volunteering information is something I learned from my father. If they were to have any objections to my seeing you, I wanted them to voice them
after
they had become acquainted with you. I was confident that once they met you, they would recognize an intelligent and charming man who conducts himself as a proper gentleman. And tonight proves I was right. I think it would be more accurate to say the Wickhams were amazed rather than shocked to discover you are Cherokee. In fact, I think the judge admires you even more because of it." She paused to examine his reaction. "You don't look properly impressed by that."

"Should I be?" Lije countered as the warm breeze carried the scent of her perfume to him, something soft and alluring and outrageously feminine.

"Yes, you should. Judge Wickham is an extremely wealthy and influential man to have on your side. Do you remember when we were talking about your family's plantation at dinner, and Mrs. Wickham asked how your mother managed to take care of such a large house? You have no idea how relieved I was when you explained that she had servants to look after it, the same as Mrs. Wickham. I forgot to warn you—the Wickhams are staunch abolitionists. They would have been appalled to learn your parents are slaveholders."

"Many people here in the North would be. It's a subject I've learned to avoid over the last four years."

"Spoken like a diplomat." She smiled in warm approval, then paused, her look softening. "Every time I think about how fortunate I was to pay a call on Payton Fletcher on that particular day—if I had waited just a day or two more, you would have been gone, and we would never have seen each other. I would have regretted that."

"Would you have?"

A tempting glow in her blue eyes was her only response.

Surrendering to the flirtation, Lije reached for her shoulders and gently pulled her toward him. Kissing her was something he had wanted for too long.

Diane had no time to think before the power of his lips whipped through her, igniting her emotions. It wasn't the kiss, but a hard, thorough demand that kept her wrapped in his arms. She reached up to take his face in her hands as she gave, unquestioningly, what lie sought from her.

Diane knew this was not a gradual smoldering, but a passion so intense and quick it seemed they were already lovers. She felt the instant intimacy and instead of being frightened, she understood that her heart had long been his. She couldn't deny him anything else.

Lije drew her closer and inhaled the warm, teasing fragrance that seemed to pulse from her skin. He reveled in the taste of her—alluring, giving, and warm. The feel of her soft, slender body created a need in him as insistent as the buffeting wind off the Plains.

She made it impossible for him to think. Soon he would forget everything but her. Lije knew her power was the kind that could make a man hunger, make him ache. It could make him weak just when he couldn't afford to lose his resolve. He had other priorities, other responsibilities.

He pulled back even as he wanted more and more of what she offered in abundance.

Diane's eyes opened slowly when her mouth was free. She looked directly at him and saw longing and caution and a glimpse of emotion that stirred her.

"I've wanted you to do that," she murmured, "for a long, long time."

Lije took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. "I think we had better rejoin the others." At the moment he didn't trust himself to be alone with her.

"Why?" But her teasing eyes told him she knew the answer.

"I should never have touched you."

"Why?"

"It leads to more, and I'll be leaving soon."

"Not for another week, at least. Not until you've danced with me, remember?" Without waiting for a response, she linked her arm with his and directed them both back to the others.

 

Strings of festive lanterns lit the terrace where couples whirled in an ever-moving circle to the lilting strains of a waltz. From the tented pavilion on the lawn came the sounds of laughter, tinkling crystal, and chattering voices. But Lije was aware only of the woman in his arms, so beautiful in her white ball gown trimmed with blue forget-me-nots, her eyes aglow with happiness.

"Did you know my father taught your mother how to waltz years ago?" There was a lightness in her voice that didn't match the heady tension that throbbed between them.

"I have heard the story before."

Her glance slid to his mouth, wreaking havoc with his control. "I remember the first time my father told me about it. He made it sound so magical. I think that's when I started wondering whether it would be like that if you and I danced together." Her eyes lifted their glance to once again lock with his. "It's more than magic, Lije. Much more." She threw a quick look at the other guests. "Everyone can see it. That's why "they're staring at us."

Lije spared a glance at the guests on the sidelines, noting the number of feminine eyes that watched him over the top of fluttering fans and the thinly disguised glares from many of the men. Their reactions were typical of others he had encountered during his four years in the East.

"They are staring because they are scandalized that you are dancing with a Cherokee when you could have your choice of a dozen other, more suitable partners," he told her.

Diane laughed easily. "I know them better than you do. Most of them are only pretending to be scandalized to cover their envy or their wounded egos. Especially the women. They look at you and secretly wish they could trade places with me, but they are too concerned with what other people would think."

"Aren't you?"

The curve of her lips deepened. "One of the advantages of being raised on the frontier is that polite society overlooks it when I indulge in what it would consider improper behavior in its own ranks. It's proven quite useful on occasion."

"This being one of them."

"Yes." Still smiling, Diane cast another glance over his arm at the onlooking guests as Lije guided her through a sweeping turn. "Truthfully, I suspect half the women here are waiting to see if you scoop me up and carry me off somewhere to ravish me." She looked back to him, her smile fading as their eyes met. "I have a feeling they'll be disappointed if you don't."

"We can't have that, can we?" His fingers tightened their grip on her gloved hand, a rush of heat flowed between them as the ripe man-woman tension leapt to another level.

"No, we can't." Her voice turned husky with desire.

The song ended in a flourish of notes, Lije stepped back and bowed to her, then took her hand, tucked it under his arm, and escorted her from the floor to the shadowy edges of the terrace. A moment later they slipped from the gathering, unobserved, and sought the quiet of the side garden.

Once there, Lije pulled a laughing Diane into the shadows of a trellised arch laden with honeysuckle. Her laughter died as she looked into his eyes. His gaze was intense, a hot, hot blue that made her throat grow dry with anticipation. He bent his head to hers, their lips met, brushed, his breath a warm caress against her skin.

With a half-smothered groan, he dragged her to him and claimed her lips in a driving kiss that was warm, hard, and demanding. Her mouth was like silk, smooth and clinging. The desire that had simmered between them all evening rushed to the surface. Lije gave full rein to it, taking his fill of her lips, but it wasn't enough. He knew it even as he felt the tremble of longing that shuddered through her. In an attempt at control, he shifted his attention to her cheek, her jaw, the delicate lobe of her ear.

"Lije," she whispered his name, going soft and pliant in his embrace. "You have no idea how much I wanted this."

"No more than I." He rubbed his lips over the blue vein in her neck that throbbed so heavy and fast.

"You don't understand," she said with a small shake of her head, then pulled back to look at him, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of wonder and need. "I have adored you since I was a child. When the government closed Fort Gibson, and we had to leave, I was heartbroken." She paused and smiled, raising a hand to run her fingers along the smooth line of his jaw. "It sounds silly, doesn't it? I was only a girl. What did I know about love? That's what I used to tell myself. But I never stopped hoping we would meet again someday. And I was always terrified that if we did, you would be married to someone else. I'm glad you're not." Her fingers slid into his hair, drawing him down. "Kiss me again, Lije."

He obliged her and lost himself in the softness of her lips, the heat of them, the bottomless pleasure of them. Just for the moment, he thought of nothing but her—not the past with its ghosts and not the future with its vague forebodings. He knew it was madness to forget his priorities and sink into her spell. But she was all softness and strength, all trembles and demands. The scent radiating from the skin of her neck made his head spin.

"I love you, Diane." He wanted her, in his arms and in his life.

"And I love you." Her voice trembled with deep feeling. She laughed a little shakily, then bent her head to rest the top of it against his shoulder. "Who would have guessed it would all turn out so glorious?"

Gripped by a feeling of urgency, he said, "Diane, I'll be leaving soon—"

"No." Her head came up, her eyes bright with confidence. "I won't let you go."

"I can't stay—" Regret riddled his voice.

"Of course, you can. Just the other day I heard Judge Wickham mention that Senator Frederick was looking for a bright young man to fill a position he had open in his Boston office. Judge Wickham likes you. I know I could persuade him to recommend you. Don't you see how perfect it would be, with both of us in Boston?"

"Diane, no." He took her by the shoulders and held her gaze, needing to make it clear to her. "I'm going home."

She hesitated only fractionally. "Naturally you want to go home and visit your family, your parents. I understand that. Afterwards you can come back here and—"

"No."

"No?" She stiffened, then pulled away and turned from him in agitation. "Why? What on earth is there for you back there? There are so many more opportunities for you here, so much more you can do, so much more you can be."

"I have to go home. I
need
to go home." Lije didn't know how to put into words the unease he felt, the fears that never left him, the images of the past that haunted him and turned that need to return home into a compulsion. "Come with me, Diane."

"Come with you?" She swung back around.

"I want you to be my wife."

"Just like that? You can't be serious."

"But I am." His eyes frosted over at her reaction to his proposal. He hadn't intended to take her home with him, but somehow the words flowed effortlessly from his mouth—and they seemed so right.

"It's too soon to be talking about marriage. You know my mother would never give her consent if I were to go West so suddenly."

"Because I am Cherokee."

"Because you are a Stuart. She has never made a secret of her feelings toward your family."
 

"No, she hasn't."

"Then you see how impossible it is right now. In time—"
 

"I'm leaving in the morning."

"You're not being reasonable, Lije," she said angrily. "You won't listen to anything I say. It's all been so wonderful. Why do you have to ruin it like this?"

"Maybe you should have listened to your mother when she warned you a long time ago to stay away from me," he suggested in a cold, hard voice, his hurt concealed by his rising temper.

Diane retaliated in kind. "Perhaps I should have!"

Lije looked at her another long second, then turned and walked off into the night. Diane watched him for a moment, anger washing over her in waves even as tears stung her eyes. But her pride wouldn't let her run after him. He would return. She was sure of it.

 

 

 

2

 

 

Cherokee Nation, Indian Territory

July I860

 

Lije lifted the bay into a canter. There had been few opportunities to ride back East. It felt good to have a horse between his legs again, hooves pounding clay-red dirt, air rushing over his face, and the trail open before him.

The well-worn road curled into a wooded section thick with oak, persimmon, hickory, and cedar trees, their branches arching to create a leafy canopy. Beyond the reach of the sun's hot glare, the air was cooler, filled with the rustles and stirrings of creatures moving about in the heavy growth. He rode on, the enduring wildness of the land flowing around him, getting into his bones and his mind.