Heartstrings (38 page)

“My goodness, what are you dreaming about? The look on your face suggests you are in another world.”

Another world, she mused. Yes, the world she’d shared with Roman. “I was thinking about Brazil.” She smoothed her skirts again.

Hammond nodded but didn’t believe her. Oh, she’d told him about Brazil and the estimable Dr. Eugene Wallaby, but Hammond knew it was not the scientist or the Pindamonhangaba beetles that filled her thoughts.

It was that long-haired savage she’d been running around with. What a bloody nuisance the gunslinger was! Even when the man was not in Theodosia’s presence, he was with her in spirit. Of course, Theodosia being in the same room she’d shared with Roman Montana did not help matters, Hammond realized. No doubt she “saw” him in every corner.

“Yes, well,” he said to her, “while you were daydreaming about Brazil, I asked you how your parrot has fared on the journey through Texas.”

“He has fared well, Hammond, thank you.”

John the Baptist pecked at a bar on his cage.
“Vulgare amici nomen, sed rara est fides.”

“‘The name of friend is common, but true friendship is rare,’” Hammond translated. “He’s listened to Latin quotations, I see.”

“I had a collection of snakeskins on my bedroom wall,” John the Baptist announced. “He has fared well, Hammond, thank you.”

Theodosia felt a sudden sense of foreboding when she remembered how much her parrot had heard Roman say in the past. “Hammond, please sit down, so that we may—”

“I am a gentleman,” John the Baptist interrupted. “I’m going to raise horses!”

“My, but he is loquacious, isn’t he?” Hammond commented.

John the Baptist lifted his right wing. “I was thinking of Brazil. Don’t you like the look of my uvula?”

Theodosia stood and hurried to the window. “John the Baptist hears a great many things, Hammond, and more often than not I have not an inkling as to where he has heard them. He—”

“When Flora moved in, the pie lady never came back,” John the Baptist continued.

Hammond leaned down to the cage for a closer look at the bird.

The parrot squawked. “Why the hell is he talking about beetroot? I’ll cover up my throbbing masculinity with a towel.”

Hammond gasped. The bird was imitating Roman Montana, he realized. The curse and indecent sexual comment convinced him of that.

Throbbing masculinity.
Hammond felt a surge of jealous anger. “Fascinating bird,” he forced himself to say. “Simply fascinating.”

“I told Flora about my dream of turning the farm into a horse ranch,” John the Baptist screeched, “and she said my plan was a castle in the air.” Theodosia quickly covered the cage with a cloth. Her parrot protested immediately by throwing water on the cloth. “I’ve heard of going insane, blind, or growing hair on the palm of your hand. Awk! She was Secret’s dam, and his sire was Driscoll’s Thoroughbred.”

Hammond didn’t miss the look of dread that leaped into Theodosia’s eyes, nor did he ignore the fact that she’d swiftly covered the cage. The parrot was most definitely repeating what it had heard Roman say in the past, and Theodosia apparently considered the statements exceedingly private.

He straightened and led her back to her chair. “Well, my dear, how do you feel?”

She knew precisely what he meant. Hammond was ready to proceed with the bedding. “I…”

“Would you care to converse for a while longer?”

His suggestion relieved her immensely. “Yes. Yes, I would.”

He smiled. “What shall we talk about? We’ve been together all day and have already discussed a wealth of subjects.” He looked around the room, pretending to deliberate upon a possible conversation. “Why don’t we discuss a few of the things your parrot mentioned? I must say that he is quite astonishing. What has he heard about a pie lady, for goodness sake? And who does he know named Flora?”

She was saved from having to answer when someone knocked on the door. “Excuse me.” She stood and advanced to the door. “It’s not locked, but it won’t open,” she said when the doorknob wouldn’t turn.

Standing in the corridor, Roman grasped the knob and forced the door open.

Theodosia drank in the sight of him. She hadn’t seen him since that morning, and although the uncaring attitude he’d shown over the possible failure of her plans continued to sting her feelings, she’d thought about him all day. “Roman.”

He’d never seen her wear the dress she had on tonight. The same color as her eyes, it looked beautiful next to her pale skin and flaxen hair.

He wondered if she’d put the pretty gown on especially for Hammond. He wondered, too, when she would be taking it off for Hammond.

He knew he shouldn’t have come to her room, but he hadn’t been able to stay away. “I left some things in one of the dresser drawers. Can I get them?”

Hammond snorted.
“May
you get them,” he corrected imperiously, then stiffened when an ice-blue gaze sliced across the room and stabbed into him.

Never taking his eyes away from Hammond, Roman strode into the room, his Colts sliding upon his thighs. Taking his time, he removed a shirt, a razor, and a black kerchief from the dresser drawer.

Hammond cleared his throat to get Theodosia’s attention and stifled a vindictive smile. “While Mr. Montana is collecting his things, why don’t you sit back down so that we may continue our conversation, my dear? I believe a few of the subjects mentioned were a pie lady, a person named Flora, the unattainable dream of turning a farm into a horse ranch, and a certain Thoroughbred who belonged to Driscoll. Those were the topics we were about to discuss, were they not?”

Roman went completely rigid. Only his eyes moved as he settled his gaze on the sole person in the world in whom he’d ever confided.

Theodosia.

She’d betrayed him.

His silent fury blasted into her like a fireball. “Roman, you don’t under—”

“I do understand, Miss Worth.”

She watched contempt blaze into his eyes as he continued to stare at her. But his loathing did not grieve her as deeply as the profound pain she saw there as well.

She rushed toward him, desperate to allay his suspicions.

He walked straight past her and stopped at the door, which remained wide open. “I met a man this afternoon who offered me a job down in Morgan’s Grove. I came in here to get the rest of my things because I’m leaving Enchanted Hill.”

Shock flew through Theodosia. She grappled for the top of the dresser to steady herself, then started toward him again.

He gave her a look that expressed his every feeling.

She stopped, suddenly comprehending how his enemies felt when confronted by the stark look of danger he was capable of presenting. It was frightening enough to stop a heartbeat.

Satisfied that she understood his silent warning not to cross him, Roman left the room and closed the door behind him.

“Theodosia, what happened?” Hammond asked, feigning total confusion. “Mr. Montana appeared rather irritated.” He walked to where she stood and laid his hand on her shoulder. “Theodosia?”

She couldn’t answer. Panic gripped her as if with crushing fists.

“Theodosia, what—”

“I have to stop him,” she whispered. “I have to stop him!” She threw herself toward the door and grabbed the doorknob.

She pulled, pushed, and pounded it, but it would not budge. “Hammond, help me with the door!”

“Of course.” He ambled to the door and took a moment to examine the knob. Slowly, he curled his fingers around it and gave it a few token jiggles. “I cannot understand why the hotel management has not repaired—”

“Hammond, please!”

For a full ten minutes, Hammond made a great show of trying to force the doorknob to turn. “Theodosia, I am afraid we are imprisoned in this room.”

She began to bang on the door with her fists. “Someone open the door! Is there anyone out there? Someone open the door!”

It seemed to her that all of eternity passed before the hotel manager finally arrived and opened the door. “Miss Worth,” he said, “I’m sorry I forgot to fix—”

“Which room does Roman Montana occupy?” she demanded.

“Mr. Montana? He was in room eight, but my wife checked him out about fifteen minutes ago.”

Theodosia raced out of the room, ignoring Hammond’s shouts for her to stop. When she reached the end of the corridor, she dashed down the stairs, hastened through the lobby, and ran into the street. Frantically, she scanned the town. When she didn’t see Roman anywhere, she ran to the livery.

There she found her wagon and her own horse.

But Secret was gone.

“I
have a surprise for you,
my dear.” Sitting beside Theodosia on a bench in the town’s sunny rose garden, Hammond patted the top of her hand and utilized every speck of the gentlemanly behavior that had been bred into him.

Inside him, however, dwelled an ever-growing impatience. Theodosia had refused to allow him back into her room last night after Roman Montana had left town, and she had remained in her room until well past noon today, pining away for the ignorant gunslinger.

But Hammond felt positive that if she would only allow him to perform the services for which she’d chosen him, she would forget Roman Montana’s very existence. He prided himself on his sexual prowess. Indeed, none of his three mistresses in London ever had cause to complain.

Theodosia wouldn’t either, he vowed. Oh, she’d explained what the intimate nights would entail, and although he’d said nothing at the time, he had no intention of following her rules.

Coitus in a pitch-dark room, indeed! Theodosia lifting her nightgown only to her hips! No kissing! No caressing!

Just swift penetration and the spilling of his seed.

How ludicrous, Hammond mused. With each passing moment in Theodosia’s company, his desire for her increased, and it had become almost impossible for him to keep his hands off her. “What have you to say?”

“A surprise,” Theodosia murmured, fiddling with the heart-shaped ruby brooch at the throat of her gown. “How nice, Hammond.” Good manners dictated that she look at Hammond’s face while he talked to her, and she did. But it was not Hammond she saw.

Roman’s image hovered in her mind. Indeed, she’d thought of nothing else since his sudden departure last night.

Tears burned the backs of her eyes. She couldn’t understand how it was possible to have any left to shed.

“Theodosia, I feel I owe you an apology, my dear. I offer one now, and I hope you will accept it.”

So intense were her thoughts of Roman that a moment passed before Theodosia understood what Hammond had said to her. “An apology?”

He nodded. “I am not certain what it was I said last night that so disturbed Mr. Montana, but I assure you that it was not my intention to ruffle him,” he said, forcing sincerity into his voice. “Why, I was not even speaking to him but to you. I truly am sorry, Theodosia, for whatever it was that I might have done that led him to leave.”

She bowed her head.

“I understand how you must feel,” Hammond continued. “You and Mr. Montana spent a great deal of time together, and you miss him. But Theodosia, do you forget your ambitions? Bearing a child for your sister is not your sole objective. There is also your research in Brazil, which is a truly laudable undertaking in the interest of mankind. And I am certain that Mr. Montana has goals of his own. You did not believe you would remain in his company for an indefinite period of time, did you?”

Theodosia forced herself to concentrate on what Hammond said. “No.” The word escaped her on the same whisper that blew the truth through her mind. Hammond was right. The day would have come when she and Roman would go their separate ways in search of their separate dreams.

She just hadn’t expected the day to come so soon, and she certainly hadn’t expected it to bring Roman such pain.

“I believe I have the remedy for what troubles you, Theodosia,” Hammond said, patting her hand again. “It occurred to me last night that there are a great many things in town that must remind you of Mr. Montana. After all, the two of you arrived here together and stayed in the same room.”

Theodosia closed her eyes for a moment.
Roman.
His name echoed through her while she wondered where he was, what he was doing. Did he hate her now? Would he curse her memory forever?

Realizing she was dreaming about Roman, Hammond decided that the sooner he put his plans into action, the sooner he would taste Theodosia’s kisses, caress her soft body, and feel her writhing beneath him.

The very thought made him tremble with lust.

He helped her off the bench and escorted her to the carriage he’d rented. “I shall show you the surprise now, Theodosia. I’ve no doubt it will ease your distress considerably.” Handing her into the vehicle, he had to suppress a smile of excitement.

“Where are we going?” Theodosia asked as he drove into the countryside surrounding the town.

“You will see for yourself when we arrive.”