Teresa Medeiros (34 page)

Anne appeared to ponder the matter. “Perhaps that’s why your proposal was so heartfelt.”

“He proposed to you?” Esmerelda squeaked, shocked anew.

Anne lifted her chin high. “He and thirty-seven other
men in the last week alone. Quite an impressive tally for an old spinster, is it not?”

“That’s why she doesn’t care for me,” Drew said. “I’m the only man in town with the good sense not to marry her.”

Anne shot him a glare that could have cut glass.

Esmerelda felt a rush of alarm as her grandfather stiffened. “Who are all these … 
women?”
he asked, sweeping a frosty look around the room. “I thought this was a boardinghouse for young ladies of good reputation.”

One of the girls trilled a sultry giggle. “I got a reputation, all right, honey, but it ain’t good.”

Her grandfather rose to face her, drawing his wounded dignity around him like a mantle. “I don’t understand, Esmerelda. Perhaps you’d best explain the meaning of your presence in this establishment.”

She gazed helplessly up at him, hating to lose his affection so soon after finding it.

When she heard a telltale creak, she knew her faith had not been misplaced. Billy wasn’t the sort of man who would abandon her to face her doom alone.

Her grandfather turned as the door slowly swung toward its frame to reveal the man standing behind it. The morning sun streaming through the window gilded his bare chest, his tousled hair, the narrow V of hair-dusted belly exposed by his unbuttoned trousers. Remembering how it felt to be rocked in the golden cradle of that magnificent body, Esmerelda felt a sweet stab of desire.

Despite the obvious difficulty he was having swallowing, Billy curved his lips into an amiable grin. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” He cut his smoky eyes toward Esmerelda. “Your granddaughter’s told me so much about you.”

Billy Darling had finally ended up where he always
figured he belonged—behind bars. But he’d never dreamed his accommodations would be so luxurious. The lumpy, straw-stuffed tick that used to drape the bunk in the front cell of the Calamity jail had been replaced with a fluffy feather mattress. An Oriental rug covered the most ominous of the stains on the puncheon floor. The chipped plaster ceiling boasted a coat of fresh paint. Billy eyed the corner askance, reasonably sure that when he’d left Calamity less than two weeks ago, there had been no crocheted tea cozies in the cell, no ceramic teapot for them to hug, and no tea table for the teapot to rest on.

Billy rested his elbows on the crosspiece of the door, letting his forearms dangle through the bars. “Developed a fondness for decorating while I was gone, Drew?”

Drew sat behind his desk with Miss Kitty curled up on his lap. He opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, Esmerelda’s aunt paused in her restless pacing. “I’m not surprised you noticed the changes Sheriff McGuire initiated for my comfort, Mr. Darling. I would have expected a ruffian like you to be intimately familiar with the inside of this jail.”

“Oh, I wasn’t a prisoner last time I was here, ma’am,” Billy said, deepening his drawl just to annoy her. “I was visiting your niece.”

She resumed her pacing, her sharp “harrumph” warning him that she would savor any excuse to whack him over the head with the bone-handled parasol she handled like a loaded Winchester. Billy flexed his fingers. If she strayed any closer to the bars, he just might give her one.

Correctly reading his sinister expression, Drew propped his boots up on the desk and wagged an admonishing finger at him behind Anne’s back. The woman reminded Billy of Esmerelda at her most scathing, a trait he might have found endearing if he’d been on the other side of those bars.

Utter chaos had broken out after he’d stepped out from behind that door at Miss Mellie’s. Esmerelda’s aunt had swooned into Drew’s arms. Her grandfather had rushed at him, grabbing up his cane and brandishing it like a sword. Mellie’s girls had leapt to his defense, claws bared. It had taken Horace and two cowboys to subdue the old man.

Although Billy suspected the pompous old fellow would have been just as happy to start bellowing “Off with his head!” it had been Esmerelda’s aunt who had come to and insisted that Drew arrest him until the extent of his villainy had been determined. Plainly wanting to avoid any more mayhem, Drew had obliged her. Billy was still haunted by the helpless glance Esmerelda had cast over her shoulder at him as her grandfather ushered her from the room, wrapped in nothing but the quilt.

His heart did an unexpected belly flop when the door of the jail swung open to admit Esmerelda and her grandfather. The old man kept his arm curved protectively around her shoulders.

Garbed in one of her aunt’s claret silk walking suits, she looked sophisticated, elegant, and utterly beyond the realm of possibility for a man like him. The smudges of exhaustion beneath her eyes only added to her air of genteel fragility. As he recalled what they’d been doing last night instead of sleeping, he felt a mingled rush of guilt and desire.

Despite her docile appearance, she didn’t shrink from his gaze, but met it boldly. Billy wanted to wink at her, to reassure her that nothing had changed. But suddenly there seemed to be more than just iron bars separating them. She was no longer a penniless orphan. She was the granddaughter of a duke, the heiress to a vast fortune and lavish lifestyle. He was a Darling, the youngest son of a Missouri dirt farmer.

When his expression remained impassive, a bewildered frown flickered across her face.

After settling Esmerelda in a straight-backed chair, the duke turned to glower at him. “Despite all evidence to the contrary, sir, my granddaughter insists you did not ravish her.”

Moving to rest her hands on her niece’s shoulders, Anne gave a ladylike snort. “Ravished. Seduced. There’s little difference, is there?”

“Ah, but there is,” Drew provided, coming around to sit on the edge of his desk. “As I’m sure you’d know, ma’am, if you’d ever experienced either.”

Billy suspected he looked nearly as dumbfounded as Anne did. Until today, he’d never before seen Drew, with his old-world gallantry and courtly charm, deliberately bait a lady.

Anne’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click. “Do spare us the particulars, won’t you?”

Drew sighed. “I was simply alluding to the fact that ravishing a woman is against the law, while seducing her is not.”

“Well, it should be,” Anne retorted, a girlish blush staining her cheeks.

Shrugging off her aunt’s possessive grip, Esmerelda jumped to her feet. “As I tried to explain to Grandfath—” The duke’s face fell.
“Grandpapa,”
she amended, earning a doting smile, “Mr. Darling neither ravished nor seduced me. Our assignation was simply the result of a bargain struck between the two of us.”

The duke’s horrified cry nearly drowned out Anne’s outraged gasp. Even Drew looked torn between shock and amusement.

Billy barely resisted the urge to groan out loud. If Esmeralda
was trying to improve his standing with her family, she was failing miserably.

“A bargain?” her grandfather shouted, banging the brass tip of his cane on the floor with enough force to send Miss Kitty bolting from the room. “Just what manner of bargain did you strike with this devil?”

Esmerelda refused to let his tantrum ruffle her aplomb. “Mr. Darling has a reputation for being one of the best trackers in the Territory. When I found out he didn’t kill Bartholomew, I hired him to find my brother.”

The duke muttered something beneath his breath, but all Billy caught were the words “more’s the pity” and “wretched boy.”

Esmerelda gave him a chiding look. “Although I had no resources of my own at the time, Billy graciously agreed to help me.”

“Help himself to you, you mean,” the duke interjected.

“And, what, pray tell,” Anne asked, shooting Billy a acerbic glance, “did you offer this knight in burnished leather in exchange for his noble services?”

“I’m afraid I spun a bit of a fable. I promised Billy that he would be richly rewarded when my loving grandfather received my letter and came rushing across the sea to my aid.” For the first time since entering the jail, Esmerelda lowered her eyes. “I must confess I believed at the time that it was nothing but a shameless lie.”

Billy finally understood the reason for her evasive answers and furtive glances, so uncharacteristic of the forthright woman he had grown to love.

The duke sank down heavily in the chair Esmerelda had vacated and buried his ruddy face in his hands. “Dear God, child, how can you ever forgive me?”

Esmerelda’s expression softened as she knelt beside his
chair and rested her hand on his knee. “You mustn’t torture yourself, Grandpapa. We all have regrets we must learn to live with.”

Billy wondered if she was thinking about her parents. His own regrets were beginning to burn like acid in his throat.

While the duke wallowed in his swamp of self-pity, Anne narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying that when your grandfather failed to appear as you’d promised, this man demanded your innocence as payment for your debt?” She pounded one of her dainty fists on the desk. “Why, the scoundrel shouldn’t be jailed, sheriff. He should be hanged!”

Billy decided he’d better speak up before Drew decided to oblige the lady on that count, too. Since he’d yet to say one word in his own defense, all it took was a casual clearing of his throat to command their rapt attention.

He avoided Esmerelda’s eyes by addressing her aunt. “I swear to you, ma’am, that I never had any real intention of holding your niece to her word.”

Anne marched over to the bars. “And I swear to you, sir, that my niece is not in the habit of indulging in such scandalous behavior without a compelling reason. The stains on your bedsheets bear proof of that.”

Esmerelda came to her feet, blushing furiously.

It wasn’t Esmerelda’s distress or the duke’s posturing that shamed Billy, but the condemnation in her aunt’s eyes. He saw reflected in their cool gray depths the shadow of the man he had always feared he was. A man who, when given the chance, wouldn’t hesitate to steal something if he wanted it badly enough. Even the precious innocence of the woman he loved.

Esmerelda had called him fine and decent last night, but if he’d truly been either one of those things, he would have
ignored her protests and dragged her before the justice of the peace to make her his wife. He would have wooed and courted her instead of taking her in a brothel like a common whore. He could return the stolen treasury gold to the U.S. government. He could wear a badge. He could even love the finest woman in all creation. But beneath his skin, where it really mattered, he was still a Darling.

Esmerelda’s lingering blush didn’t stop her from holding her head high. “He’s telling the truth, Aunt Anne. He wouldn’t have laid a finger on me if I hadn’t wanted him to.” She set her chin just as she had the night she’d defied his ma, making Billy’s heart surge with equal amounts of pride and despair. “If I hadn’t wanted him.”

Plainly hoping to avert any further confessions of such an alarming nature, the duke rose, regaining his regal bearing. “Seduced, ravished, coerced. Whatever you want to call it, the damage has been done. Our Esmerelda has been compromised. All that remains is to determine what course of action must be taken next.” He rested his hands on his granddaughter’s slender shoulders and peered intently into her face. “My heart’s desire is for you to return to London with us to claim your rightful place within the loving bosom of your family.” His patrician upper lip curled in visible distaste. “But if you want me to, my dear, I shall force the rogue to marry you.”

Hope leapt in Esmerelda’s eyes, impossible to miss. But it was shadowed by that same stubborn pride that had kept her from accepting his clumsy proposal last night. She faced the cell, holding her head even higher than before. “I shall leave that decision up to Mr. Darling. I would never stoop to forcing him into a marriage he didn’t desire.”

Billy swung around, but closing his eyes didn’t block out the sight of her. He could still see the hope brightening her eyes, the smile trembling around her lips.

She was his Duchess. She deserved to live in some fancy house with servants to wait on her hand and foot. She deserved to enjoy the adoration of the family she’d yearned for ever since she’d lost her own. She deserved a whole hell of a lot better than a bounty hunter with a price on his head and bad blood in his veins.

Billy swallowed hard before forcing himself to turn around. If he was going to be man enough to break her heart, then by God, he was going to be man enough to watch it break.

Praying he’d spent enough time in Jasper’s wretched company to do a tolerable imitation, he choked up a mocking grin. “That’s mighty generous of you, honey. Most women don’t appreciate how precious a man’s freedom is to him.”

A frown clouded her smooth brow. “Your freedom? I don’t understand.”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me, sweetheart,” he said, dangling his arms through the bars. “We had a fine time last night, you and I, but that’s no reason to go and do something foolish like get ourselves hitched.”

Esmerelda took a step toward the bars. Her stricken expression made him feel more like a monster in a cage than a man in a cell. Her voice lowered to an agonized whisper. “Why are you doing this? You called me Mrs. Darling. You said you wanted to marry me. You said you loved me.”

“Hell, angel, a man’ll say a lot of things when he’s trying to sweet-talk a pretty girl into his bed. Right, Drew?” He winked at his friend.

If Esmerelda had turned at that moment and caught even a glimpse of Drew’s appalled expression, she would have known Billy was bluffing. But she was too busy recoiling from the bars. It was Anne who cast Drew a piercing
look, Anne who put her arms around Esmerelda when her niece backed into them.

“There’s one possibility we haven’t considered,” Anne said quietly. “What if there should be a child?”

The duke purpled. Esmerelda’s hand went instinctively to her belly.

Billy hesitated, knowing his next words would forever damn him in her eyes. He sobered, no longer able to keep up even the pretense of a smile. “There won’t be. I saw to that myself.”