Elusive Hope (8 page)

“What do you mean, no?” Her tone was incredulous, as if no man had ever denied her request.

“I believe the word speaks for itself, Princess. I have business in Rio, and it’s unclear whether I will return. The last thing I need is a woman, and a coddled one at that, to slow me down.”

The corners of her mouth tightened. Her fists clenched. She seemed to be having difficulty restraining that inner hellion at the moment. Finally she said, “I will not slow you down, Hayden, you have my word. And once we get to Rio, you can wash your hands of me.”

Hayden opened his mouth to respond, but she continued her tirade. “I only need an escort to Rio, where I intend to book passage on a ship back to Charleston. Then you’ll never see me again. What is so difficult about that? Upon my word, I can keep up with you in the jungle. And you won’t have to do anything for me except lead the way. In fact, you’ll hardly notice me at all.”

Hardly notice her? Hayden groaned inwardly. He’d have to be deaf not to hear the woman’s interminable chattering and blind not to notice her stunning face and curvaceous figure. No, the woman would definitely be a distraction.

As well as a major aggravation.

“What of your parents?”

“They don’t know. I’m twenty-three. I can take care of myself!” She patted her hair in place then took a step toward him. “I beg you, I can’t stay in this savage backcountry another day. I’ll simply go mad.”

Hayden wasn’t altogether sure that hadn’t already occurred. After all, the woman had been hysterical over thinking she was bald just two days ago. “How will you afford to book passage on a ship?”

“I have money. You need not worry about me.”

Of course he would worry about her. Was the woman daft? If she came with him, she would be under his protection. He would be responsible for her welfare and safety. And
that
he couldn’t have. He needed no complications, no obstacles, no temptations to keep him from his goal.

Temptations
…ah, he knew just the way to be rid of her. Curling his lips in a sultry grin, he moved toward her, scanning her with his gaze. “What of your reputation? All alone in the jungle with a man for five days. And nights.” He raised his brows. “What will people think?”

She looked away. Moonlight sprinkled glitter dust on her hair and cast shadowy arcs beneath her lashes. “No one need know. Especially not back home.”

Hayden closed the gap between them. The scent of alcohol vied for dominion over her sweet, feminine scent—a scent that reminded him of citrus and cedar. He rubbed the stubble on his chin and drew a deep breath, leaning to whisper, “And would you risk arriving in Rio with your virtue shattered?”

Drawing a jagged breath, she retreated. Her leg struck the cot. She winced. “I assure you, there is no risk of that!”

He continued to stare at her.

Her eyes became flames. “You wouldn’t dare!”

He fingered a lock of her hair. As soft as he’d expected. “You don’t know what I would or wouldn’t do, Princess.” Of course he would never force himself on a woman, but she didn’t need to know that. Besides, he quite enjoyed playing the cad. One of his many roles.

And a role that, apparently, she bought, lock, stock, and barrel. Eyes round, she swallowed hard and clutched her valise to her chest like a shield. “You are a vile toad, Mr. Hayden Gale!” she spat before storming out of the hut.

Hayden chuckled, a sudden emptiness settling on him at her departure. Perhaps he shouldn’t have teased her so, but it was for the best. Releasing a heavy breath, he gathered his things as dawn’s first glow slid over the wooden window frame. He should get going. The sooner he left, the better.

C
HAPTER
7

W
ith the tip of her parasol, Magnolia brushed aside a particularly slimy-looking vine upon which a family of monstrous beetles had taken residence. Not only residence, but they appeared to be procreating at lightning speed and in astounding numbers! She cringed as she held the vine out of her way and ducked beneath. Her parasol slipped. The vine descended like a dragon with gaping beetle jaws. It slapped her in the face, showering her with bugs.

She screamed. Then quickly slammed her palm over her mouth. Dropping her valise, she sprang back and furiously batted the foul creatures scrambling over her skirts and bodice. Her stomach leapt into her throat as she hopped about the clearing like a frog on hot coals, shaking out the folds of her gown. After several agonizing minutes—and when she could find no more of the black multilegged beasties—she drew a handkerchief from her pocket and fluttered it about her face, waiting for her heart to settle. Then, swearing under her breath, she grabbed her valise and forged ahead, scanning the endless canvas of green.

Mercy me, she’d lost Hayden again! Why did that infernal man have to walk so fast? Good thing he left boot prints in the mud large enough to belong to a bear as well as broken branches and leaves so she could follow his trail or she’d be hopelessly lost. She shivered at the thought and glanced around at the thousands of birds and insects abuzz in the tangled canopy. Chirping and croaking and warbling and hissing and droning. Could they never stop and give her a moment’s peace? She would go mad with the incessant hum!

And the heat! Never should a lady perspire this much. With each step, her damp petticoats rubbed against her corset, which rubbed against her chemise, which of course was glued to her skin. Soon her petticoats would be stuck to her as well, and next her over-skirts and bodice, until finally she would be completely drenched.

And smelling nothing like a lady.

Her skirts caught on something. The sound of fabric tearing grated her ears before she had the good sense to stop and free herself. “Oh, bah!” She stared at the rent in her beautiful dimity gown as tears filled her eyes.

How was she to endure five days of this torture? Perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to follow Hayden, after all. She had thought it wouldn’t be too difficult to keep hidden among the brush of the jungle nor to follow the odious man’s trail. After all, she’d gained some stamina these past months. She’d grown accustomed to the bugs and the heat and to walking more than usual. Hadn’t she? Then why did she feel as though she slogged through molasses—hot, prickly molasses?

But what else was she to do when the man refused to escort her to Rio? And even if he had, after his provocative insinuations, she wasn’t sure she trusted him. This way was better. He would lead her to Rio and never be the wiser. Of course, she hadn’t thought what she would do at night. And for food beyond the fruit the jungle offered. But she couldn’t think about that now.

Using her valise as a shield and her parasol as a sword, she forged ahead, searching the trail for boot prints. There. A huge one. And over there, another. My word, but the man had a hearty stride. Perspiration stung her eyes, and she swiped it away, looking for the next print. Nothing but mud and leaves met her gaze. Lowering her valise, she inched ahead, batting aside vines and scouring the ground in all directions. Nothing. No prints, no flattened leaves, no broken branches. It was as if he had been taken up by God on this very spot like Enoch or Elijah. But she knew that couldn’t have happened to the stowaway rogue. How she remembered her Bible stories, she had no idea. She hadn’t opened the book in years, nor had she truly listened to the sermons her parents had dragged her to each Sunday.

She swirled around, peering through the greenery, looking for a flash of his dark blue coat, a hint of his hair, the color of roasted almonds. But all she saw was a labyrinth of green spinning around and around until dizziness jumbled her thoughts and sent her breath huddling in her throat. Her heart seized. What would happen to her now?

“Looking for me?”

Magnolia shrieked as Hayden emerged from the jungle looking at her with that patronizing I’m-in-control-and-you’re-a-dolt look.

“How dare you sneak up on me!” She poked him with her parasol.

Without even a flinch, Hayden snagged it and tossed it to the ground. “Me? Sneak up on you?” He snorted. “You’re the one who’s been following me.”

“I have not. We just happen to be going in the same direction.”

“Is that so? And what direction is that? North, south, east, or west? How can you tell when you can’t see the sun?”

“How can
you
tell?” She placed a hand on her hip.

“Because I’m used to living on my own, finding my way, not relying on a footman and a carriage to take me wherever I want at the snap of my fingers.”

Why was his voice so sharp with spite? And his eyes like green thorns? “It is not my fault that you were not born to privilege, Hayden.”

He hung his head and sighed, his jaw bunching then expanding as if it were going to explode any minute. She took a step back, studying him: shirt plastered to his sculpted chest, coat in hand, tight trousers stuffed within boots. An extra belt was strapped around his waist that held a long knife, a pistol, and a canteen. Was that all he’d brought? Dark hair hung to his shoulders over a chin grizzled with stubble. When he lifted his gaze to hers, the look in his eyes sent an icicle down her spine. He wouldn’t hurt her…would he?

“I heard you the minute you started following me, Princess. I figured if I gave you enough time, you’d quit and go home. This isn’t exactly a stroll through Battery Park.”

“Well, you’re right about that. It’s an absolute oven. Or hell. I can’t decide which. A rather large insect has decided I’m his next meal”—she batted the air around her—“and, apparently, he’s invited all his relatives to the feast. I have blisters on my feet.” She pouted. “And my shoulders ache from carrying my valise and shoving aside these interminable leaves.”

The right side of his lips quirked. “We’ve only been walking for an hour.”

She frowned, withdrew a handkerchief, and dabbed at the perspiration on her neck. “An hour? Are you sure? It seems much longer. How can you tell the time when you can’t even see the sky?” She glanced up. “I feel like I’m trapped in some maniacal green web. And no doubt the spider will return soon to devour me.” She gave him a victorious grin. “And you, as well.”

“No, just you.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Especially if you don’t return to New Hope this minute.” He jerked his head in the direction from which they’d come. “If you start now, you can reach camp before noon.”

Magnolia gripped his arm, surprised at the rock-hard muscle twitching beneath her fingers. She offered him her most I’m-just-a-dainty-desperate-woman-who-needs-a-strong-man look—the one that always brought men to their knees. “Please take me with you, Hayden. I shan’t be any trouble. I promise.” She inched out her bottom lip and forced moisture into her eyes. There, that should do it. She’d lowered herself far enough in front of this plebian. In a matter of moments, even the hardened Mr. Hayden would crack beneath her feminine wiles and beg her to accompany him.

Instead he narrowed his eyes as if deciding what to do. “Nicely done, Princess.” He pried her fingers from his arm. “A bit over the top for my tastes. But I’m still not taking you to Rio. Not now and not ever. I don’t need a clingy, whiney female to take care of.”

“Clingy?” She picked up her parasol and leveled it at him. “I cling to no man. And I don’t whine either.” She lifted her chin. “I softly protest.”

He snorted and shook his head.“Run along, little one.”He gestured toward the trail. “I haven’t time for this foolishness.”

“You would send me back alone?” She’d expected his defiance if he discovered her, but what man could resist a damsel in distress? “It’s not safe.”

“Then you shouldn’t have followed me.” He strode off. “Good day, Princess.”

Magnolia started after him. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Because you behave as though your class and fortune make you queen of all.” He waved a hand through the air in dismissal.

“I do no such thing!” She stomped her foot. “Come back here this instant. What sort of gentleman leaves a lady alone in the jungle? You will escort me to Rio at once, Hayden Gale.”

He chuckled. “You prove my point, Princess. Now hurry along before it gets too late.”

Fuming, Magnolia swatted a bug and watched as Hayden marched away with that swaggering gait of his.

She felt like screaming. She felt like crying. But she hadn’t the energy for either.

At the sight of Thiago entering the hut, James punched to his feet, grabbed the letter off Blake’s desk, and glanced at Magnolia’s parents huddling in the corner. Finally they would get to the bottom of this. Mr. Scott’s usual bombastic expression was absent, replaced by fear and shock as he held his sobbing wife by his side. Light from two lanterns attempted to wash away the early morning gloom that had saturated the town hall ever since the Scotts had dragged Colonel Blake and James from their beds just minutes before, waving a piece of foolscap through the air and rambling some nonsense about a kidnapping.

James rubbed his sleepy eyes and glanced out the window where the rising sun painted a verdant green over the dark canvas of the jungle. The scrape of the colonel’s chair sounded, pulling James’s attention back to the matter at hand. He cleared his throat. “What I’m about to say must remain within this group. Is that clear?”