Page 6 of River Lady


  Leah dressed carefully for dinner that night, wearing a low-cut gown of deep forest green that matched her eyes. In spite of her efforts, no one seemed to notice anything throughout the stilted dinner. Wesley was sporting a bruise on his jaw and Travis kept moving his left arm gingerly, as if it hurt him. Regan, after a few choice words about some of her furniture being broken, said nothing. The men ate in silence while the women remained quiet, picking at their food.

  When Leah could stand no more, she rose. “I would like to talk to you in the library,” she said to the top of Wesley’s head, and when he looked up at her with cold eyes, she returned his look with matching ice.

  He gave her no answer, but when she turned, she heard him move to follow her.

  When they were alone in the library, she offered a silent prayer that she’d be able to say what she wanted to. Regan’s plan was a good one and would ultimately save Leah’s pride, but for the moment the idea repulsed her. She wanted no part of this man who so obviously hated her.

  “I have a proposition to make you, Mr. Stanford,” she began.

  “Oh come now, you can call me Wesley. You’ve certainly worked for that right,” he said with a hint of a sneer in his voice.

  Leah, her back to him, made her fingers into claws as she took several deep breaths to calm herself. She faced him. “I want to get this over as quickly as possible because I don’t want to be near you any more than you want to be near me.”

  “That’s probably true,” he said with a snort. “No doubt you wanted this house and that pretty dress more than you wanted a man cluttering up your life.”

  “Why I did spend that one night with you is beyond my reasoning now, but the fact is that we are married and I’d like to do something about that.”

  “Ah, blackmail,” he said in a self-satisfied way.

  “Perhaps,” she said as calmly as she could. “I have a plan.” She went on before he could interrupt her again. “I believe I know how to get what we both want. You want your Kimberly and I want a decent place to live.”

  “Stanford Plantation isn’t enough for you?”

  She ignored him. “I apologize for our marriage, for my father having forced it. I even apologize for having…given myself to you that night, but I can’t change that now. If I gave you an annulment now I would still have to live here in Virginia and face down all the gossip over what has happened. But I have an alternate plan.”

  She drew a deep breath. “A few weeks ago your Kimberly came here and asked to accompany us to Kentucky in the hopes that she could escape the talk about how she was jilted and, perhaps, in a new state, she could find herself a husband.”

  It gave Leah no pleasure to see Wesley wince at the idea of someone else marrying the woman he loved.

  “It seems that now,” Leah continued, “our roles are reversed. I have heard how you hate me, that you cannot bear sleeping in a house I may some day live in and, whether you believe it or not, I have enough pride that I don’t want to force myself on someone who detests me. Now! What I propose is this: that the four of us leave Virginia as planned, but once we’re out of sight of people you know, I will cease pretending to be your wife—our marriage is no more than pretense—and will become your…cousin, I guess is good enough. Or perhaps I should be Miss Shaw’s cousin if you can’t bear any relationship with me. Kimberly can travel as your fiancée and when we arrive in Kentucky our marriage can be annulled or whatever, making both of us free.”

  “And how much am I to pay you for this generous offer?”

  She sneered at him. “I will work on the journey to Kentucky in exchange for my bed and board, but once in Kentucky I’ll set up my own weaving business and support myself. Regan has provided for me and we have an arrangement whereby I can repay her. You’ll have no further obligations to me once we reach the new state.”

  He looked at her in disbelief. “You’re willing to let me out of this marriage you worked so hard to get?”

  Red rage filled her. “I never even suggested marriage! I did not come to you when I knew I was carrying your child. I tried to conceal the fact, but when my father found out he beat me senseless. Half the time in the church I wasn’t sure what was going on. If you hadn’t been so ‘noble’ and had waited, I would have asked you not to marry me. Now I’m attempting to get us both out of this situation. If you can’t stand the idea of my going to Kentucky with you, let me know and I’ll return to my father’s land. In fact, on second thought, I think I should do that anyway, because I’m not sure I can bear your company on the journey. Excuse me and I’ll go now and talk to Travis about the legalities of ending this marriage.”

  She shut the door behind her and for a moment leaned against it. Never had she been so angry before. Nothing her father had ever done had affected her as this did. Perhaps it was because it was the end of a dream. Regan’s plan had seemed good when she first heard it and she would have liked to earn her living as a weaver and to get away from people who’d always call her “one of those Simmonses,” but it had been an unattainable dream. With a caressing hand, she touched the velvet of her dress. On the farm there’d be no need of velvet dresses. With her shoulders straight, she went in search of Travis.

  For a moment Wesley sat in stunned silence, then, with force, he threw his hat against the closed door. He didn’t know which made him angrier, that the girl had overheard him or that she was taking everything so calmly. She was so cool, maybe a little angry, but certainly she didn’t act as a woman should.

  “Damnation!” he cursed under his breath as he went to retrieve his hat. The last thing in the world he wanted was a woman who told him what to do and how to do it. All his life he’d lived under Travis’s rule. Even when their parents were alive, Travis had been in control of his younger brother. When Wes was a toddler Travis had always been there, shouting orders, giving directions. It seemed to Wes that Travis had always been an adult, had never been a child, had never had a child’s doubts as mortals did.

  And Travis had never needed anyone. He was running most of the plantation by the time he was fourteen. Travis never read a book, never did anything that was just for pleasure. He was born knowing Stanford Plantation was his, and he had no qualms about treating everyone, including his parents, as employees.

  When Travis met his wife he’d treated her as though she were someone who worked for him, and, because of this, she’d run away. Away from Travis, she’d managed to become someone in her own right, but she couldn’t have done so while standing in Travis’s overpowering shadow.

  Wesley had always worked for Travis, but to escape he’d taken long trips all over the world. He’d drunk champagne from a beautiful woman’s slipper in Paris. He’d made love to a duchess in England, and in Italy he’d nearly fallen in love with a black-haired singer.

  In the end he’d known he was deluding himself. He was a farmer and he’d never be happy away from the land. But, as soon as he had returned home, Travis had begun giving Wesley orders about five minutes after his arrival. And it was then Wes decided he had to get away permanently. The new state of Kentucky was said to have rich, fertile land and he went to see it. He loved the state and the people, people who had a feeling that things were moving and changing. He bought several hundred acres of land near a little town called Sweetbriar, repaired the house that someone had built years before, and returned to Virginia one last time.

  But he’d no more than returned when his life was forever changed: he met Miss Kimberly Shaw. For the first time, Wes had felt he was looking at a real woman, a woman who was proud of being a lady. Kimberly couldn’t read a ledger of accounts, couldn’t even really ride a horse. What Kim knew about were sewing, pressing flowers, what colors to paint a house—and most of all, how to look up at a man and make him feel like a man.

  Wesley began to imagine returning home from the fields to the pretty little house Kimberly would decorate for them, putting his head in her lap and letting her soothe away all the tensions of the day. No doubt she
’d have a dozen domestic crises a day, all of which Wesley would have to solve. Kimberly needed him. For the first time in his life Wesley felt wanted, felt as if he weren’t just another strong back that would do as well as any other. When Kim looked up at him Wes felt twenty feet tall.

  Everyone kept warning him that Kim was helpless, but no one understood that that was just what he wanted. He didn’t want some woman who was as perfect as Travis, some woman who could run a plantation with one hand and raise children with the other. Kimberly was soft, sweet, clinging, and needed protection from all of life’s hardships.

  And now he’d lost her! This winter when he’d worked so hard on his new farm he’d had time to regret his rashness in marrying the Simmons girl. He knew the story of how she’d remained on her father’s farm when she could have run away. But instead she’d stayed with her younger siblings and done the work of a couple of men.

  Wes was sure she was a paragon of all the virtues; if he died tomorrow and willed her the Kentucky farm, she could no doubt run it single-handedly; in fact she could probably run it better than he could. But what no one seemed to realize when they were telling him “for his own good” that Kim was a helpless butterfly was that she was exactly what he’d always wanted.

  Crumpling his hat, he put his hand on the doorknob. Whatever the girl Leah was, she was his wife and he had an obligation to her. Maybe she had planted herself in his arms, maybe she had planned to get some money from him, but since he had been dumb enough to fall for her tricks he deserved what he got.

  “Lord, protect me from competent women,” he prayed as he went in search of Leah.

  Chapter 6

  Two minutes after she left Wesley in the library, Leah began shaking. At first she thought it was from anger, but she soon recognized it as fear. For the past year she’d tried not to think about what would happen when Wesley returned. She’d tried her best to hope that he’d hold out his arms to her and love her, but instead, he’d rejected her publicly.

  Leah was accustomed to anger. Anger was what had fed her while she worked her father’s farm. Anger had kept her from giving in and being beaten down. Her father had taken away everything except her anger and her pride—and both of these had come to the forefront with Wesley.

  But now that she’d vented her anger she was frightened. She didn’t want to go back, alone, to her father’s farm. For a year she’d lived within the heart of two loving families and she’d had hopes of having her own family. If she returned to the swamp she’d no doubt remain there the rest of her life. Perhaps with her weaving…

  “Leah.”

  Wesley’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Immediately she straightened her shoulders. She was standing in the hallway and had no idea how long she’d been there feeling sorry for herself. “Yes,” she said coolly, and braced herself against another of his attacks. This was the man she’d dreamed of so long and she’d thought that when she got him all her problems would be solved, but actually they were just beginning.

  “I came to apologize,” he began, watching her. She was pretty, he thought, in a haughty sort of way. Her eyebrows peaked in the middle, making her look arrogant, willful. “I haven’t really had time to think over your plan but it sounds as if it could work. I don’t imagine you want to stay here in Virginia any more than I do and I do have a duty toward you.”

  “No,” she said quietly, her eyes smoky dark. “You have no obligation toward me. I have always taken care of myself and I will continue to do so. Our marriage will be dissolved and you’ll be free of me.”

  The corner of Wesley’s mouth quirked, but not in amusement. “I’m sure you’re able to take care of any number of people, but would you rather farm that bit of filthy swampland you own or come to Kentucky and—what is it you want to do—weave?”

  It flashed through Leah’s mind to wonder what she’d ever seen in this autocratic man to ever think she cared about him. He offered her this choice as if he were amused because he knew how it wasn’t really any choice at all. How she’d like to toss his offer back into his face! But for all her pride, she wasn’t going to do something stupid.

  “I would rather go to Kentucky,” she snapped angrily. “But I want it known that for all I am a Simmons and not of your class, I pay my own way. I will never be a burden to you.”

  “There was never a question of whether you would be a burden to me. I’m sure you can handle anything,” he said with a hint of disgust.

  He would have said more but a whisper of “Wesley” behind him made him turn. Kimberly stood there, her soft body encased in swirls of light pink silk, her big eyes already filling with tears.

  Before Wes could move, Kim pressed the back of her hand to her parted lips and in the next second she started a slow sink toward the floor, her lashes fluttering prettily.

  Wesley caught her in his arms long before she hit the floor. Sweeping her up, the pink silk floating about him, he looked down at her with concern. “Water!” he commanded to Leah, who was standing motionless. “And brandy!” Wes added as Leah turned away.

  “My darling,” Wes whispered as he sat down with her on a long bench against the wall.

  Leah had never seen anyone faint before and she was sure Kimberly was dying. Lifting her skirts, she took off for the kitchens at a run.

  “Leah!” Regan called, starting to run after her. “What’s wrong? Did Wesley—?”

  “Brandy and water,” Leah demanded from the head cook. “And quick.” She turned to Regan even as she grabbed the tray handed her. “Miss Shaw just fell to the floor. I think she’s dying.” With that she started running again.

  “Kimberly faints regularly,” Regan called. “And don’t let her have too much of that brandy. She likes it too much.”

  “Regularly?” Leah gasped in disbelief. “The woman must be ill.” When she reached the hall, Kim was lying on the bench, Wesley kneeling beside her, holding and kissing her fingers.

  “I’m such a burden to you, my darling Wesley,” she said softly. “You are so good to put up with me, and especially since we’ll never…I can never be…”

  “Hush, love,” Wesley whispered. “It’s all going to work, you’ll see.” He turned, saw Leah, and his voice changed. “You took long enough. Here, love,” he said, lifting Kim and holding a snifter of brandy to her lips.

  Kimberly drained it all in a gulp.

  “Not so fast! You’ll choke!” Wes cautioned.

  “Oh my. I’m just so upset I don’t know what I’m doing. What did you mean when you said we’d work things out?” She glanced up at Leah, who was silently watching the scene.

  Gently, Wes smoothed back a curl from Kim’s temple. “The four of us, you, me, Steven and…Leah will leave for Kentucky and once we’re there my marriage, such that it is, will be dissolved, then we can be married.”

  For a moment, Kim didn’t say a word. “How will we travel?”

  “Leah will be my cousin and you my intended.”

  Kim gave another glance to Leah. “Couldn’t the marriage be dissolved just as well here in Virginia?”

  A very slight frown crossed Wesley’s brow. “I’m sure it could, but legally Leah is my wife and I have a responsibility toward her. If I left her here the gossips would kill her.”

  “Of course, Wesley dear,” Kim said tiredly, fluttering her lashes. “Can you ever forgive me for being so insensitive? Oh dear! I seem to be suddenly quite chilled. Would you please get me a shawl? I do hate to be a bother.”

  “You could never be a bother,” Wes said before leaving them.

  When they heard his footsteps on the stairs, Kim opened her eyes, sat up, and gave Leah a wide-eyed look. “Are you really, truly going to give up Wesley?”

  “Are you all right?” Leah asked, still shocked at Kim’s fainting.

  “Oh yes, perfectly. I would love some more brandy though. Brandy makes me feel so good. I always feel brandy is my reward for pleasing Wesley. He so loves for me to faint. Leah, I just knew you were going to be a kin
d person. I knew it when you agreed to let me travel with you to Kentucky. I’ve heard how you used to run that dreadful farm of yours and I know you’ll be so handy on this trip. I can’t cook or lift heavy things and horses terrify me. I just know you’ll be wonderful to have around and we’ll become great friends. Uh-oh, here comes Wes.” She hurriedly put the empty glass on the tray, slid down on the bench, and resumed her helpless look.

  “Here you are, dear,” Wes said tenderly, wrapping the shawl about Kim.

  Bewildered, Leah stepped back and watched as Kim allowed Wes to treat her as a helpless invalid. No one noticed when Leah left to return the tray to the kitchen. Leah wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at the situation. Kim’s “Wesley so loves for me to faint” made her want to laugh, but the idea of any woman playacting to attract a man disgusted her, and Leah vowed she’d never allow herself to faint, no matter how much it pleased a man.

  Leah managed to avoid Wesley for the next few days, although she caught glimpses of him now and then through a window or from around a building. She dressed carefully each morning until she realized that she wanted him to notice her. The night of his arrival she put on her prettiest nightgown—just in case—but her husband stayed away from her. He was distantly polite when he saw her but nothing more. And as Leah went about her work of preparing for the journey ahead, her pride began to take over. She refused to allow Wesley’s rejection to hurt her.

  The day they were to leave dawned clear. The wagon was loaded high and Travis had tied a piece of canvas across the top. Wesley already sat on the seat, reins in hand. A cage of chickens was fastened to the back; a milk cow on a lead rope trailed behind.

  “We’ll miss you,” Regan said, hugging Leah. “Tell Wesley what you want to say and he’ll write it for you, but don’t lose contact with us.” She leaned forward to whisper. “I’m going to have a baby in the fall.”

  “Congratulations!” Leah laughed, hugging her again. “I hope it’s a little boy just like Travis. Good-bye, Jennifer,” she called, hugged Travis once again, and then was lifted onto the seat beside Wesley.