Prince Charming (22 page)

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Authors: Julie Garwood

BOOK: Prince Charming
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Now she was being stubborn. Taylor decided to convince her by quoting from Shakespeare. She seemed to hold great store in his clever words. The problem, however, was that she couldn't think of a single phrase to use. And so she simply made one up. Perhaps Victoria was too distraught to notice.
“It is far better to receive than to decline,” she announced with a good deal of authority in her voice. “Shakespeare,” she added with a nod when Victoria gave her a quizzical look.
“He never said that.”
So much for her clever ploy. “He would have if he'd lived long enough,” Taylor said.
Victoria shook her head again. She let out an inelegant snort, too. Taylor immediately tried a different approach. “The money is for the baby,” she said. She felt certain her friend wouldn't be able to argue that point.
“I'll find work. I'm strong and quite resourceful.”
“And pregnant,” Taylor reminded her. “I cannot let you do anything that would jeopardize the baby.” She raised one hand when it appeared to her that Victoria was going to argue. “I know you wouldn't deliberately do anything to injure your daughter, but if you work long hours every day you'll surely exhaust yourself. You need lots of rest and so does the baby. No, Victoria, I won't hear of it. You're taking the money. Madam would want you to have it.”
Victoria stared up at Taylor for a long while before saying another word. Her mind was racing from one thought to another. She was stunned by her friend's generosity. Yet she was confused as well. She had never met anyone quite like Taylor. She was caring and compassionate and kind. She was, in Victoria's estimation, an angel who had come down from heaven in the moment of Victoria's greatest need and had taken her under her wing.
But she was also human, Victoria reminded herself, and it suddenly occurred to her that she actually knew very little about her friend and benefactor.
“We spent hours and hours together on the ship, didn't we?”
Taylor was confused by the turn in the topic. “Yes,” she agreed. “We did.”
“I told you everything about myself, didn't I?”
Taylor nodded. “What does—”
Victoria interrupted her. “I was very self-concerned during the voyage,” she admitted. “And because I was so consumed with my own problems, I never noticed, until now, how little you told me about yourself. It has just struck me how secretive you've been.”
“Not secretive,” Taylor corrected. “Just . . . private.”
“Are we not friends?”
“Of course we are.”
“‘A friend should bear his friend's infirmities.'”
“Why do you quote Shakespeare whenever you're upset?” Taylor asked.
Victoria shrugged. “He was a comfort to me growing up,” she explained. “I could forget my problems when I immersed myself in one of his plays. There were times when it was very . . . difficult at home. You do the same thing, Taylor.”
“I don't.”
Victoria smiled. “All those stories about Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett. They were your friends. You didn't have an easy time of it growing up, did you?”
Taylor shook her head. “Are you deliberately changing the topic, Victoria?”
“Do you trust me?”
Taylor only hesitated a second or two before answering. “Yes.”
“Then why do I feel . . .”
“Feel what?”
“Left out.”
Taylor's shoulders slumped. She walked back over to the bed and sat down next to her friend again. “I'm sorry you feel that way,” she said. “It's just that . . . it's very difficult for me to talk about myself or my family in any way that isn't superficial.”
“Because of the way you were raised?”
“Perhaps,” Taylor answered.
Victoria let out a sigh. “Friends share confidences,” she said. “You've never shared any confidences or worries with me. Don't you have any?”
Taylor almost laughed, so ludicrous was the question to her. “Oh, yes, I have worries,” she admitted. “Too many to count.”
Victoria reached over to take hold of her hand. “Am I one of your worries?”
“You aren't a worry,” Taylor assured her. “I was in dire need of a friend and suddenly there you were. It was almost . . . mystical. Heavens, I'm being very dramatic, aren't I?”
Victoria smiled. “I was thinking the angels sent you to me,” she admitted. “Illogical though it may seem, it is the only answer I can come up with. You did appear out of nowhere and save me from disaster.”
Taylor was becoming uncomfortable with the praise she was receiving. She hurried to turn the topic around.
“About the money,” she began again. “We really should get this issue settled now.”
“I want to ask you a question first.”
“Yes?”
“Would you take money from me? Be completely honest, Taylor. Would you?”
“I would do anything to protect the babies. Anything.”
Her voice radiated with conviction. And still Victoria's pride wasn't completely soothed. “You aren't just telling me what you think I want to hear, are you? You would really accept charity?”
“I would demand charity if I had to,” Taylor told her. She let out a weary sigh and threaded her fingers through her hair in an act of frustration. “Dear God, Victoria, I've already done things I never would have thought possible. I married a complete stranger just to . . .”
“You what?”
Taylor stood up and began to pace while she collected her thoughts. “It's a long story,” she said at last. “I'll explain everything to you tomorrow. I promise. For now, please accept the fact that you have one very special reason to stay healthy and do whatever it takes to survive in this confusing world, and I have two very special reasons. I'm too weary now to go into details, and I know you have to be just as exhausted. Let's have a quiet supper and go to bed early tonight. I'll answer all your questions after I meet with the bankers. All right?”
Victoria's mouth had dropped open when Taylor admitted marrying a complete stranger. She was, in fact, rendered speechless. No wonder she called him Mr. Ross all the time. It was starting to make sense to Victoria now. The reason behind the marriage remained a mystery, however, and she found she was already becoming impatient for tomorrow to arrive.
She finally found her voice. “Yes, we'll wait until tomorrow to have our talk. Just answer one more question for me now, please.”
“All right,” Taylor agreed.
“Do you ever get scared? I know it's a foolish question. I was just curious,” Victoria blurted out when she saw Taylor's expression. Her friend looked incredibly sad. “You radiate such confidence all the time. In truth, you're a comfort to me. I always feel you'll know exactly what to do . . . even twenty years from now.”
Taylor suddenly felt overwhelmed with fatigue. Her nerves felt frayed and she wanted more than anything to be able to let her guard down, if only for a minute or two.
She gave in to the urge. “Scared? Oh, yes, I get scared. Sometimes I'm so afraid inside I shake with it.”
Her voice trembled with emotion when she gave her confession. Sharing the confidence had been difficult for her. Victoria immediately felt guilty because she'd broached the topic.
“You are right,” she announced then. “We are both very tired. We'll wait until tomorrow to have our talk.”
Taylor gave an abrupt nod. “And the money?” she asked.
“I will be happy for your assistance.”
“Thank you.”
“It is I who should be thanking you,” Victoria said. She stood up and smiled at her friend. She wanted to try to lighten her mood, for Taylor was looking as though she had all the burdens of the world on her slender shoulders.
“Tell me another story about Daniel Boone,” she requested.
Taylor was thrilled by the request. She immediately launched into one of her favorite tales about the mountain man. That story led to another and another, and only when her stomach started protesting did she realize how late the hour was.
“Mr. Ross is probably pacing the floor waiting for me,” she announced. “Tomorrow I insist upon giving Davy, Crockett equal time,” she added with a smile. “He also was quite a gallant figure.”
“Yes,” Victoria agreed. “And when you're finished, I shall recite my favorite verse from one of William's most famous plays.”
Taylor laughed. “I believe we are both quite peculiar,” she remarked. “You must be famished. I know I am. Your baby must have immediate nourishment. I don't believe I'll even take the time to change my dress. I'll just run along down to my room and collect Mr. Ross.”
She started for the door, but Victoria stopped her with a casually given remark.
“When we were talking about finances, you said you would do anything to protect the babies. Do you remember?”
Taylor turned around. “Yes, I remember.”
“I'm pretty certain I'm only going to have one baby. I can't imagine having two,” she added with a bit of laughter in her voice. “And twins don't run in my family.”
Taylor smiled. “They run in mine.”
“Oh?”
“Georgie and Allie,” Taylor said then. “They're twins.”
“Who do they belong to?”
“Me.”
Victoria looked stunned. She had to sit down before her knees gave out on her. “Yours?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Taylor answered.
“You have two babies?” Victoria asked. She couldn't seem to take it in.
Taylor smiled. A knock sounded at the door, interrupting the conversation. Neither Taylor nor Victoria moved. “What I've just told you must remain in confidence a little longer. I'll explain why tomorrow.”
She waited for her friend to agree before turning around to answer the door.
“Does Mr. Ross know about the twins?”
“Not yet.”
“Good heavens.”
“Exactly.”
“Are they his?”
Taylor continued on. She reached for the doorknob before answering. “They will be,” she called out. “If I need him to help keep them safe,” she qualified.
She opened the door and found Lucas standing in the entrance. He looked impatient, irritated, and completely wonderful to her. She couldn't seem to get used to his size, she realized once again. The man towered over her, even when he was leaning against the frame of the doorway in such a relaxed stance, obviously meant to suggest he'd been waiting a good long while for her to open the door.
His frown didn't bother her much. She was too busy noticing all the differences about him. He'd changed into a black jacket and black pants. The white shirt he wore underneath was sparkling clean and starched stiff, indicating to her that he'd taken advantage of the hotel's amazing laundry facilities. The whiteness of the shirt made his skin look all the more bronzed.
She gave him a thorough once-over before looking into his eyes. His shoes were newly polished, his pants were definitely too snug, his shoulders seemed to have grown wider in the hour or so they'd been apart, and his hair was still damp, indicating he'd taken a bath. He smelled just as wonderful as he looked.
She let out a little sigh. Then she finally settled her gaze on his eyes. She decided the color was his finest feature. His eyes were such a dark, velvety brown, with a hint of gold in them. When he smiled, his eyes seemed to shine.
He was going to make a wonderful father. Lord, how she hoped he would come to love the babies. What if he didn't or couldn't? It was a chilling possibility.
Lucas was thoroughly exasperated with Taylor. He was about to ask her if she was finished with her inspection and didn't she realize wives shouldn't be looking at their husbands with such blatant curiosity, but something in her eyes stopped him from making any sarcastic remarks.
The smile was gone. She looked somber now, but there was something more he couldn't quite put his finger on. Just as strange was his own reaction. He suddenly felt like taking her into his arms and telling her everything was going to be all right.
He wanted to protect her from harm. He wanted to keep her safe.
He wanted to grow old with her.
The appalling thought popped into his mind before he could stop it. Lucas could feel the noose tightening around his neck. Damned if he would spend the rest of his life with her. He straightened away from the door frame and all but glared at the woman trying to turn his life upside down.
Taylor's manner also changed. She gathered her composure and forced a smile for her surly husband's benefit.
She seemed to have just noticed his irritation. “Why are you frowning?” she asked. “Did you receive bad news?”
“No.”
“You won't digest your food properly if you're irritated while you eat, sir. I suggest you rid yourself of your unpleasant mood with all possible haste.”
He felt like throttling her. “Taylor, do you know what time it is?”
She shook her head. “I've been waiting over two hours,” he told her.
“You have?”
“Yes,” he snapped out. “What in thunder's taking you so long?”
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. She continued to stare into his eyes when she asked, “Have you been waiting long?”
Hadn't he just told her he had? What was the matter with her? He expected an immediate apology. Yet she was staring up at him with a look that suggested she wasn't even paying attention to the conversation. Her mind was obviously somewhere else.
Lucas decided he wanted her full attention. By God, he wanted an apology, too. And just as soon as she finished being contrite, he'd tell her how much he detested waiting on anyone for anything and that she'd best learn to be prompt from this moment on.

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