Prince Charming (29 page)

“I have considered all of this,” Taylor told her. “At first I thought I would take the girls to some distant city, but I've changed my mind. There is one place Malcolm won't ever look, and that is the frontier. Mr. Ross told me about a place called Redemption. He said a man could walk for a mile and never meet another person. The babies and I could get lost there.”

“In your heart . . . do you believe your uncle will try to find you?”

Taylor nodded. “I don't believe it's an unreasonable fear,” she said. “He would like to hurt me. He's a spiteful, vengeful man. He has a scar that crisscrosses his left eye. He almost lost his sight. I gave him that scar, Victoria, when I was just ten years old. I'm only sorry I didn't blind him. Every time he looks in the mirror, he's reminded of what I did to him . . . and why. He'll try to find me all right. I imagine he's been counting the days until he can take over the inheritance and the estates . . . and me.”

Victoria shivered. She was beginning to understand what Taylor wasn't telling her. She decided to take a roundabout way of finding out if her guess were accurate.

“If the twins were boys, would Marian have been so obsessed with running away?”

“No.”

Victoria let out a sigh. “Is Malcolm a vain man?”

“Yes.”

Victoria smiled. “Good,” she announced. “And is the scar as unsightly as I hope it is?”

“Yes.”

“Very good.”

Taylor nodded. She decided she'd said quite enough. Victoria, even though pregnant, was still very innocent in Taylor's estimation. She couldn't possibly understand the twisted appetites of some men. Taylor barely understood herself. Her friend would be appalled and disgusted to know the full truth.

“It's quite ironic,” she said then. “My greatest dream was to one day live in the wilderness. Uncle Andrew embraced the notion. Every time I visited him, he would have read something new to teach me. He believed in my dream and wanted me to be prepared. It was a game we played, I suppose.”

“Like building a soddie and making you live in it?” Victoria asked.

“Yes,” Taylor agreed with a smile. “His servants thought I was as peculiar as he was. It didn't matter. It was just a game.”

“Do you know what I think? In your heart you've always known you were going to live in the wilderness of America someday. The twins complicated your plans, and that is why you considered a smaller city somewhere in the West.”

“I did think I would eventually end up in the mountains. Ever since I read the first story about Daniel Boone, I was . . .”

“Intrigued?”

“Yes, intrigued.”

“I'll do whatever I can to help you,” Victoria pledged. “Tell me this, please. What does Lucas say about—”

“He doesn't know anything about Malcolm or the babies, and you must promise not to say a word to him.”

“For heaven's sake, Taylor. Think this through. Don't you think he'll notice you're living in Redemption?”

Taylor laughed. “Of course he'll notice, but by then it will be too late. If he finds out my plans now, he'll try to stop me. He doesn't believe I can survive in the wilderness. He thinks I should concentrate on what gowns to wear to the parties in Boston. Can you imagine anything so ludicrous?”

Victoria smiled. Now that she knew Taylor better, it was ludicrous to believe she would fritter her days away on frivolity.

“I want to disappear with you. Hear me out before you caution me. I'm young and strong and somewhat intelligent. I'll do just fine in the wilderness.”

“What about the baby? Have you considered what it will be like giving birth in a soddie?”

“Other women have,” Victoria argued.

“We're going to have to discuss this at length,” Taylor said. “Perhaps it would be better if you join me after the baby's born. It would certainly be safer.”

Victoria clasped her hands together. “Then you agree, now or later, I can move to Redemption?”

“Do you have any idea what you're getting into?”

“Yes.”

Taylor let out a sigh. Then she nodded. “I believe we should have a toast.” She raised her cup of tea, waited until Victoria had done the same, then whispered, “To the wilderness and our new life.”

Their cups tapped against each other. “And to freedom,” Victoria interjected.

“Taylor, we're going to be late.”

Lucas made the announcement. Taylor was so engrossed in the conversation, she hadn't noticed her husband had entered the dining hall.

He didn't look very happy. She forced a smile in an attempt to offset his frown. “We still have plenty of time,” she told him.

“I want to get this done,” he replied. He took hold of her arm and half dragged her to her feet. “This shouldn't take too long, should it? I'm meeting a friend at noon. I'd hate to cancel out on him. He's got a sound stallion he's interested in selling.”

“The meeting shouldn't take more than an hour,” Taylor answered. “Victoria, I'll come down to your room as soon as I'm finished with the bankers. Perhaps we should go shopping this afternoon. Will you join us, Mr. Ross?”

Lucas was following the two ladies out into the corridor. The thought of shopping with the two of them made him want to grimace.

“I have an appointment,” he reminded Taylor.

“All afternoon?”

“And most of the evening,” he said. “The farm is outside Boston. It will take a couple of hours to get there. I won't be back to the hotel before eight.”

“Mr. Ross, why are you sounding so cantankerous?”

“I hate being kept waiting.”

“So do I,” she told him in a gratingly cheerful voice.

“I don't think we should shop, Taylor,” Victoria interjected. “You're in mourning.”

“She isn't supposed to mourn,” Lucas announced. “She promised her grandmother.”

“I'm going to find a church and light a candle for her,” Taylor said.

“I'm certain she'll like that,” Victoria gave her approval.

Taylor wasn't in the mood to shop, but there was a multitude of items she needed to purchase for the little girls. In truth, all she wanted to do was see the twins. Time was the issue, of course, and she knew she needed to get everything done as soon as possible.

Because Lucas had made plans for the afternoon and early evening, Taylor decided to go and visit the twins. Lucas would never know she'd left the hotel. She wouldn't have to hurry her visit either, she realized, and found herself smiling in anticipation. If luck stayed on her side, she might even be able to talk Mrs. Bartlesmith into going with her and the babies. The notion was highly unlikely, but any hope, no matter how small, was worth a try.

Taylor didn't have any intention of being specific with the nanny until they were well on their way. The less anyone knew about her true destination, the better. She might even hint they were headed for Texas.

Victoria turned in one direction at the landing on their floor, and Taylor and Lucas turned down the opposite corridor. Her husband's long-legged stride was impossible to match without running, and she refused to run in such an elegant hotel.

“Please slow down or let go of me and I'll follow behind you.”

Lucas immediately let go of her. He walked ahead, unlocked the door, and then stood there waiting for her.

“Ever heard the expression ‘slow as molasses'?” he asked.

Taylor went inside the bedroom before answering. “No.”

“It applies to you.”

Taylor ignored the barb. She went into the bedroom alcove in search of the papers she wanted to take along to the bankers. She'd made a considerable list of questions to ask and didn't want to forget any of them. Everything had to be settled before she disappeared . . . and before Lucas went back to his mountains.

She collected the papers, folded them, then went in search of her gloves. Lucas blocked her path.

“I meant it, Taylor. I want you to change out of that godawful dress.”

“It's appropriate attire.”

“You gave your grandmother your word,” he argued. He went over to her wardrobe and pulled the doors open. Then he began to sort through her clothes. He wasn't certain why it mattered to him, but she'd given her word, and by God she was going to keep it. A last request had to be honored, and Lucas was going to see that it was.

He grabbed a dress and hanger and turned to Taylor. “Here, wear this. Hurry, we'll be late.”

She almost laughed when she saw the gown he'd chosen. “Red? You want me to wear a red dress.”

“It will do.”

She laughed. “It's an evening gown, sir, and not at all appropriate.”

“I like it,” he insisted. “And so would your grandmother.”

He was walking toward her with the dress in hand. The man was out of his mind if he thought she was going to wear a velvet evening gown to meet the bankers.

“It doesn't fit properly,” she lied.

“You're wearing it,” he said again.

“Madam would not approve.”

She folded her arms across her chest and stood her ground. She wasn't going to give in, and that was that.

From the stubborn set of his jaw, she concluded he wasn't going to give in either. It appeared they had reached a stalemate. Then he went and weighed the argument in his favor.

“Of course Madam would approve. They wear bright colors in heaven, Taylor. I'm sure of it. Now put the thing on. We're going to be late.”

She was overwhelmed by what he'd just said to her. He was being completely outrageous. And wonderful. They wear bright colors in heaven. Without a doubt, that was the nicest thing he could have said to her. It wasn't the color or the dress or even what they wore up there, if indeed they wore anything at all, it was the fact that he believed Madam had made it to heaven.

“Lucas Ross, you're a very charming man. Did you know Madam called you my prince when she first told me about you?”

He was exasperated with her. She wasn't making any sense, talking such nonsense. Her voice had turned as soft and soothing as a gentle summer breeze. He couldn't imagine what had caused the sudden transformation. One minute she was shaking her head at him and frowning like an old maid schoolmarm, and the next she was looking like she was going to start crying or kiss him. He didn't know what had come over her, but he was determined to set her straight on this charming business.

“Taylor, I'm neither a prince nor am I charming. I'm only being a gentleman to accommodate you. It's a damn strain,” he added. “Honest to God, I don't know how much longer I can keep up the pretense.”

She didn't believe him. “Oh?” she challenged. “Pray tell me please, what would you do now, this very minute, if you weren't behaving in a gentlemanly fashion.”

“Do you mean tell you what I'd really like to do?”

“Yes.”

He grinned. “Get you naked.”

She turned as red as the dress. He laughed. “You wanted me to be honest, didn't you?”

“Yes, of course.” He had her so rattled, she couldn't think straight. “I'll wear the dress,” she stammered out. “With a coat on top.” A black coat, she silently added, and one that would cover her from head to ankle. She wasn't going to take the wrap off either, no matter how hot it was inside the banker's building.

She snatched the dress out of his hands and turned to go back into the alcove to change. “It's horribly low cut,” she remarked. “I do tend to spill out of the thing.”

He reached over her shoulder and grabbed the dress out of her hands.

Taylor ended up wearing a white blouse and navy blue skirt. Lucas was pacing by the time she had added a brightly colored ribbon to her hair.

As it turned out, they were five minutes early. Lucas was quick to point out they would have been late if he hadn't insisted they take a carriage to their destination.

Mr. Harry Sherman met them at the door of the bank. He escorted them into the president's office where Mr. Peter Summers waited for them. Sherman was the elder of the two gentlemen. In England, he'd been a good friend as well as an advisor to Madam for long years. He was almost as old, close to sixty, but five years ago, and just one month after his wife of twenty years had finally succumbed to a long, debilitating illness, he announced he was leaving England. He wanted an adventure, he explained, and had volunteered to help with the opening of the bank's Boston branch. Madam had been astounded, for she believed Harry to be set in his ways. She supported his decision, however, and even helped him get established by depositing a large amount in the American branch. They had stayed friends and wrote to each other at least once every two weeks.

Madam had always said that Sherman had the brains in the business and Summers had the charisma. Her grandmother had certainly been right with her evaluation, Taylor thought with a smile as Peter Summers oozed compliment after compliment. He was as slick as oil and as sincere as a sweet-talking dandy. Taylor didn't remember ever being introduced to Summers, but he assured her they had met. She'd been quite young, he recalled, and had hung onto her grandmother's skirts most of the time he was there. He tried but couldn't coax a smile out of her.

“Your behavior was quite amusing,” he told her. “And a bit peculiar. Your uncle Malcolm was there, but each time he left the library, you let go of your grandmother's skirts and became quite the imp. You were into one thing after another. Your grandmother was very indulgent. She let you have free rein. You were busy digging through her desk, looking for treasures I suppose, but the minute your uncle returned to the study, you hightailed it back to your grandmother's skirts again. The pattern was repeated several times, as your uncle was coming and going every other ten minutes or so. I believe he was indulging in a drink or two of whiskey out in the hallway.”