Southern Seduction (28 page)

“You don’t know?”

“My patience is wearing thin,” Travis warned.

“She a courtesan, old man.”

Travis grabbed Whatsbury by the shirtfront.
He stared down at him with cold contempt. “I demand satisfaction for that slur.”

“Wait a minute.
Wait a minute,” Whatsbury said holding up his hands in defense. “I’m telling you I tried for her myself, and she turned me down flat. I’m only telling you what she evidently did not. If you don’t believe me – ask her?” Whatsbury said and Travis let him go. “Then you’ll see there isn’t any reason to fight over this. Sorry, old chap. I thought you knew.”

Travis could only see a red haze as he left the dining room.
Had he been played for a fool? Had Brooke been his father’s whore and she’d somehow convinced him to give her a portion of the plantation?

Travis shattered inside.
God, help her if that were true!

Chapter Sixteen

The cabin door flew open.

Brooke’s head snapped up.

Travis stood in the doorway glaring at her as if she were the enemy.
A muscle twitched in his jaw, and his blue eyes were so cold and distant she actually shivered. Travis’s glance seemed to accuse her without him having to say a word.

Brooke held her breath.
Her pulse began to throb erratically as her panic built and welled in her throat.

He knew.

As the tension between them increased with frightening intensity, Travis finally entered the room and shut the door behind him. However, he didn’t come toward her. Instead he went and stood behind one of the two chairs, his hand clenching the back.

A wave of apprehension swept through Brooke.

“Would you like to tell me,” he paused and took a calming breath to calm the menacing fury in his eyes, “exactly what were you to my father?” Travis didn’t let her answer before he shot her another question. “Were you his whore?” There was a bitter edge of cynicism in his voice.

“No.
I was not,” Brooke told him. “How could you think such a thing?”

His contemptuous eyes raked over her.
“How?” Travis gripped the chair until his knuckles turned white. Brooke knew he struggled to control his temper. “How?” he repeated. “Whatsbury just congratulated me for succeeding in getting you as my courtesan. Seems he never managed to get you for himself,” Travis grated out.

Travis made everything sound so ugly, Brooke thought, but he wasn’t finished yet
. . .

“I challenged him to a duel for the insult,” he continued.
“Whatsbury merely laughed and told me to ask you if I didn’t believe him. It seems you were all the rage in England,” Travis sneered. “Can you imagine how foolish I felt telling him you were my wife.”

Brooke new her heart was breaking.
“I know how awful this sounds,” she whispered, her stomach twisting into a huge knot as an odd kind of chill enveloped her. “And you deserve answers,” she paused. “But are you prepared to listen? Really listen? Or will you stand in judgment of me before you know the entire story?”

Travis’s face clouded with uneasiness and she was certain that he already thought her guilty and really didn’t want to hear the facts.
But then, as he usually did, he surprised her by saying, “I’ve always considered myself a fair man.”

Brooke motioned to the chair.
“Would you like to sit down?”

“No,” he snapped, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

Brooke took a deep breath. She knew what he must be thinking. It irritated her that he hadn’t bothered to give her the benefit of the doubt. At least until he heard her out.

She sat in the middle of the bed her back ramrod straight. She needed to remain calm.
Brooke would not cower in front of him, or any man. She might not be proud of her past, but at the same time there’d been little else she could do. She’d had to survive.

But that was in the past.

“I believe you know that I was raised in a girl’s school,” Brooke began, her outward calm belying her inner turmoil.

His lips twisted with amusement.
“That wasn’t a lie?”

“Travis --” Brooke took a calming
breath, “–- I have never lied to you. I might not have told you everything about my life, but I’ve never lied to you,” she said, daring him to say more.

Instead he nodded for her to go on.

“If you remember the stormy night we lost the sugarcane, I told you then my mother was killed, but what I didn’t tell you was that three days after the funeral, my father, the Duke of Winterland, cut off my funds. I was tossed out on the street with the clothes I was wearing and nothing more. I was frightened and hungry. I had no family . . . no one to turn to. And most of all, I had no money.” She clutched her hands to keep from shaking; the mere thought of that time terrified her, even after so many years had passed.

“Can you imagine what that was like, Travis?”
Brooke looked at him, holding his gaze. “You say your life has been hard, but your experience was nothing compared to mine. You’ve always had a family, even if they were difficult. And you have had your mother near you. So don’t even try to tell me that you know what I’ve been though,” Brooke said and dared him to say anything to the contrary.

To his credit, Travis remained quiet.

“After three days on the streets,” Brook continued, “three days with no food and sleeping in alleys and dodging lectures. I remembered my mother had told me if anything happened to her, and I was in trouble to look up her friend, Fanny Sinclair. I dug down deep in my reticule and thankfully found the woman’s address.

“Fanny was gracious, and she took me in with open arms.
She told me she owed my mother a great deal. At first, I didn’t know Fanny was a courtesan, but later I figured it out. And then she told me my mother had been a courtesan, too.

“Fanny never encouraged me to go into the business.
However, I couldn’t continue living off of her. I had no other way of making a living, so I asked her to teach me how to use the one thing I had, my beauty, to make a living. I knew I didn’t want to be poor or live with another family as a servant, depending on them for my room and food.

“I didn’t want to be a courtesan, Travis.
You’ll have to believe me, but I knew what it was like to be hungry and have no money. I didn’t want to be a common whore, so I chose only old, wealthy men, men who enjoyed lavishing money and jewels on me. Only a few of them were even capable of having relations. Most just wanted to go around town with a beautiful woman on their arms, so their peers would be jealous.”

“How could you do that?” Travis rasped.

“When you need money, you’ll do just about anything. I learned to turn off my emotions. I became numb, only going through the motions until the job was done. Then I met Jackson, and he offered to get me out of the business. He was like a father to me. He never made those kinds of demands of me. If he went to the opera, I would accompany him, but
never
did I sleep with your father,” Brooke said. “I’m sure there were those who thought I was Jackson’s mistress, given my past, but there was nothing I could do about that.

“That was three years ago.
Then, your cousins Jocelyn and Shannon came to live with us, and they became sisters to me.”

“Why did they move in?”

“They both have their reasons, but I don’t want to go into them. It’s not my story to tell. Jocelyn and I were good friends in school, so I already knew her.” Brooke thought of her friends, wishing she could see them now. “If you should ever get to meet them, you would like them.”

Travis’s left eyebrow rose a fraction.
“And my father just took them in?”

“I know you never got to see that side of your father, but he was a caring man, and he loved the girls.”

“I suppose it was just me that he couldn’t love,” Travis said sarcastically.

“That isn’t true.
I believe Jackson did love you, though he didn’t show it well. When he got sick he wanted to be sure he could leave us enough to get by on. Shannon and Jocelyn wanted to come to America, and Jackson thought that would be a good idea. It would be a way for me to leave the past behind and to start a new life.”
Or
so I’d thought
, she said to herself, pausing. She gave a half-hearted laugh. “He never said anything about the plantation until he was dying and he most certainly didn’t say anything about you.”

Travis’s brow arched in ironic amusement.
“I have no doubt of that.”

Brooke ignored his sarcasm.
“I didn’t know any of the details until I arrived at Moss Grove. However, your father did say one thing before he died that didn’t make any sense to me then, but it does now.”

Travis folded his arms.
“So, are you going to tell me?”

“Jackson told me he was trying to right a wrong.”
She watched Travis’s brow rise in question, so she explained. “I believe he knew that he had not done right by you, and he wanted to make up for it. Somehow, Jackson sensed we were very much alike. I have no doubt he sent me to you,” Brooke finished in a whisper.

She was more shaken than she cared to admit.
She felt achy and exhausted now that she’d poured everything out. There wasn’t anything else she could do or say. What happened next was up to Travis.

Travis had so many emotions swirling around in his head and heart that he felt like he’d been in a fist fight.
Strange and disquieting thoughts raced through his mind. “Well, I don’t know whether to thank Jackson or slug him, if he were still alive.”

“When I first met you, slugging Jackson did cross my mind, too,” Brooke admitted, smiling.

Travis chuckled and pushed himself away from the chair. Somehow, his anger had been washed away, and all he could see now was a beautiful, scared creature sitting in the middle of the bed, her golden hair cascading around her.

Brooke was right.
He couldn’t possibly know what it was like to be thrown out into the street with no hope. His heart actually ached for her. And he had believed that his childhood had been bad.

Just thinking about all the things that could have happened to Brooke gave him chills.

When Travis reached the bed, and Brooke, he wasn’t sure what to do or how he felt, so he acted on instinct. He sat on the edge of the bed and removed his boots. Then he climbed onto the bed. Brooke still sat in the middle of the bed like a frighten animal. She turned and watched him warily, but she didn’t move.

Travis propped the pillows behind him and leaned back against them.
He was still unsure what to say. He didn’t have the correct words to describe what he felt for Brooke, so he’d have to show her. Finally, he opened his arms to her, and she came to him without hesitation.

Travis gathered Brooke into his arms.
Without a word, she turned her face into his chest and wept. He had a feeling that it had been a very long time since Brooke had cried. She had probably had to be strong for so long that it had built inside her. Most women would have cried through the telling of the story, but Brooke never flinched.

She never begged for his forgiveness because there was nothing to forgive.
She had done what she had to, never blaming anyone for her fate. He was proud of her, he thought as he stroked her hair and let her cry. Sometimes crying cleansed the soul.

Neither of them said anything.
Words were not necessary. This was a night of healing.

A little later, when she’d fallen asleep in an exhausted slumber, Travis whispered, “I love you.”

The next morning Brooke was emotionally spent when she woke up in Travis’s arms. She gazed up at him, admiring his firm jawline and handsome face. There was nothing boyish about Travis. He was all man, and she loved him more than she’d ever thought she could. Even after last night’s unpleasantness, she felt safe when she was in his arms.

Last night Travis had surprised her.
He had not criticized her. He’d simply offered her comfort as if he truly understood. Did he? It was most unusual for a man.

Travis’s eyes opened.
Once the sleep cleared, he looked at her with tenderness. She could also see desire smoldering in his blue eyes, making them appear very dark this morning. Was he purposely letting her see how he felt? It would help if he told her he loved her, but that he hadn’t done.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked in a raspy voice.

Brooke nodded. “And you?”

He gave her a slow smile.
“I always sleep well when you’re in my arms.”

Tenderness swept over Brooke.
She reached up to touch his face. His jaw was rough with stubble since he’d neither shaved nor gotten undressed from the night before. He turned his head and kissed her hand.

“I love you, Travis,” Brooke said, “But I can understand if you no longer want me as your wife.”

Travis pulled her up to him and kissed her with a tenderness that Brooke knew she’d never be able to forget. His mouth came down on hers with fierce hunger, and Brooke twined her arms around his neck. She parted her lips, and Travis groaned, clasping her tighter as if he’d never get enough of her.