Southern Seduction (5 page)

When Travis realized that he hadn’t said anything to Mr. Jeffries, he finished explaining.
“Sorry, I was remembering the conversation where I learned the news from Harvey, my banker.” Travis lifted his shoulders in an angry shrug. “I can truly say it wasn’t a pleasant day.”

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” Mr. Jeffries said, shaking his head.
“My assistant must have confused the address. You were to receive your letter in advance of your father’s business associates.”

Travis understood that it was not an intentional slight, but still it hurt.
And he wasn’t really sure why. “The only thing I know is the old codger never did anything without having a reason. The education came only after he realized that I was the only one to carry on the family name. Only then did he give me his last name and acknowledge my birth. And now this insult -- that woman.” Travis motioned toward the house. “The woman owns half the blasted plantation -- just what is -- or was -- my father about?”

“I cannot comment on the subject, sir,” Mr. Jeffries said, his brows drawing together in an agonized expression. “But I can say that your father seemed to think a great deal of Miss Brooke.”

“Evidently so,” Travis grated out. “He left her half the damned plantation.” He turned on his heel and strode toward the barn. “I’m going to check the cane,” he called back over his shoulder. “If you want to see what Moss Grove is about, I’ll have a horse saddled for you, and you can ride with me.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Jeffries said, huffing as he struggled to catch up with Travis.
“I can understand your being upset over the situation ...” Jeffries’ words trailed off as Travis gave him a warning look, but then Jeffries continued. “I traveled with Mrs. Hammond and her friends, and they are all quite lovely ladies. Perhaps you’ll change--”

Travis stopped suddenly cutting Jeffries off,
“What ladies?”

“I believe they are friends, but think of themselves as sisters, sir.
Quite close, I do believe. Actually the other two women were your father’s nieces and your first cousins. They lived with your father for awhile.”

As casually as he could manage, Travis
stated, “Don’t tell me I’m going to have two more women dropping in on me. As if I don’t have enough aggravation.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Thank God my mother isn’t here. She’d be having the vapors or carrying on so that I would never have any peace.”

“Oh, no sir.
The ladies parted company in New York, each going their separate ways.”

“Good,” Travis snapped, then motioned for the stableman to saddle another horse.
When the horses were brought around, Travis mounted, but couldn’t resist speaking his thoughts. “Well, it’s a damned shame that Mrs. Hammond didn’t go with them.”

Mr. Jeffries mounted.
“I hope that you’ll feel differently once you become better acquainted with Mrs. Hammond. She’s really quite a lovely woman.”

Travis gave a half laugh before he said, “Don’t wager your life on it.”

Mammy led the way down a long hall. The clicking of their heels on the hard, parquet floor was the only sound.

Apparently, Mammy didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with chatter.
When they reached the end of the hall, Mammy opened the door and announced, “Dis is your room. I t’ink you’ll enjoy dis room, yes.”

Everything smelled clean and of fresh lemon wax.
It was a refreshing change from the dampness of the ship and the musty odor of the taverns and coaches they’d used on their trip.

Brooke glanced around the spacious room.
The furniture was all dark mahogany. A large bed with a white lace canopy sat in the middle of the room, and a sofa and two rose-colored chairs faced the fireplace on the other side.

The room had been decorated for a woman--possibly the fiancée.
Just how close was Travis to his fiancée? Did he love what’s-her-name? He didn’t look like a man in love. Love softened a man. At least, the one’s Brook had made acquaintance with and those were few. There definitely wasn’t anything soft about Travis Montgomery. Cold was the first word that came to Brooke’s mind. Was there, perhaps, another motivation for the pending marriage?

“Jus’ you set you’se’f dere, and I’ll have your trunks sent up, Miz Ha--.”

Brooke touched Mammy’s arm. “I prefer that you call me Miss Brooke.” Brooke thought the woman might, at least, give her a small smile at the friendly overture, but she was wrong. All she received was a curt nod. However, she had no intention of giving up. “And what should I call you?” Brooke inquired.

“Mig’t as well call me Mammy, ye
s. Ever’bod’ else does,” the plump woman said as she smoothed the coverlet on the bed with her dark, worn hand. “Will your lady’s maid be joinin’ you shortly, Miz Brooke?” The disapproval was clear in her voice.

Brooke thought a moment before she answered.
She realized that she was the intruder and she didn’t want to quarrel with everyone in this household. It would make life easier if she made friends with the one woman who could be an ally. “I’m afraid I didn’t bring my maid with me. She was young and did not wish to leave her family.”

Mammy straightened and looked at her with wide eyes. “You traveled by you
’se’f, unchaproned, yes?”

“Not exactly.
I had Mr. Jeffries and two of my friends with me, but we parted ways in New York.”

“Well now,” she said, hands on her ample hips.
“If you don’ want people to talk in Nawlins den you shouldn’t go out alone, you hear. Jus’ ain’t proper,” Mammy grumbled.

Brooke nodded.
“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you. Have you worked at Moss Grove long?”

“Well now--dat’s a question.
His Grace didn’t come here often, but de house has always been staffed, and I’ve always been in charge. Then Miz Margaret and Mr. Travis came, and once again, de house was lived in. We made some changes. Got rid o’ de sorry no accounts, yes,” Mammy said shaking her head. “We have good folks now.”

“I see,” Brooke said, placing her reticule on the bed.
She’d hoped that Mammy had helped raised Travis so the woman could tell her something about his personality. “Then I should think that you’d be a great help in choosing a lady’s maid for me. I’m certain you must have excellent taste.”

Mammy actually smiled this time, showing her white teeth.
Her brown eyes searched Brooke’s face, for what, Brooke wasn’t sure. “Jus’ leave it to Mammy. I’ll choose someone fo’ you while you here,” she said finally.

“I expect to be here a long time, Mammy.”
Brooke smiled. “You see I have inherited half of Moss Grove from His Grace.”

“Oh, Lordy,” Mammy said, touching the sides of her face with her palms.
“Lordy, Lordy.” Then she realized she’d let her thoughts show, and her face once again became a shuttered mask.

“Don’t worry,” Brooke said.
She reached out and touched the housekeeper’s arm. “You can always speak your mind around me. I promise I shall do the same. I know that you don’t trust me yet, and that’s understandable. But I’m hoping that someday you will. I don’t intend to make any changes in the household staff.” She looked around, appraising the spotless room. “I can see everything is running smoothly already.”

Mammy’s brow furrowed.
“What will Miz. Margaret and Miz Hesione have to say?” Mammy blurted out, then caught herself. She shook her head quickly. “Ain’t none o’ my business,” she seemed to be reminding herself. “I spoke too soon, yes.”

“I hope I shall not be the strict taskmaster you expect, Mammy,” Brooke told her as she unpinned her hat and placed it on the small dressing table.
“I wasn’t pampered and spoiled. I appreciate hard work and faithful service. Please, feel free to speak your mind when you’re with me.” Brooke looked Mammy directly in her dark, kind eyes. “Everything here is strange and unfamiliar to me, nothing like my home in England. I shall need all the assistance you can provide. I do hope you’ll help me,” Brooke paused then pressed on, hoping to find out what she needed to know from the woman. “Who are these people that you spoke of?”

Mammy hesitated again. “Mebbe I shouldn’t be talkin’.”

Brooke sat down on one of the two rose-colored chairs and motioned for Mammy to sit in the other.

“Since I asked you a direct question,” Brooke gently prodded, “I would think it’s your duty to answer. I doubt that would be considered gossiping.”

Mammy smiled, her eyes twinkling as she nodded.
“Well now, Miz Margaret is Master Montgomery’s mama, as you mus’ already know.”

“I didn’t know her name,” Brooke said.

“I see.” Mammy nodded. Well, Miz Hesione, she is his fiancée. Dey is up north shoppin’, to be sure. Spendin’ lots o’ money, I guarantee.”

“I see,” Brooke said, nodding.
She wanted to ask what the women were like, but realized Mammy didn’t trust her enough yet to offer that kind of information. “Are they expected back soon?”

Mammy rose from the chair.
“Be back come November ‘cause Miz Margaret wants a Christmas weddin’, and she usually gets what she wants,” Mammy said as she started for the door. “Get your’se’f settled in, you hear. I’ll send a girl up fo’ your maid, to help you unpack.

“Dinner be rig
’t at eight, yes. Prosper, de cook, now he don’t tolerate no one bein’ late fo’ his table, you hear.” She paused when she reached the door, turned and gave Brooke a final smile. “Welcome to Nawlins.”

Brooke stared at the closed door as she sank down into the chair, realizing just how tired she was. It had been a very long and tiring day.
The intelligent thing to do would be to surrender since she was so vastly outnumbered, but then she was tired and couldn’t think intelligently. The trip, plus the confrontation with Travis had been more wearing than she’d expected.

He wasn’t like anyone she’d ever known.

Perhaps she’d just rest for a short while. She needed to have her wits about her on her next encounter with Travis Montgomery.

And what kind of a cook made the rules anyway, she wondered vaguely as she slumped against the chair.
She supposed she’d find out soon enough.

This was, indeed, a strange household.
The housekeeper spoke with an unusual French accent, and the cook made the rules when to eat. And she wouldn’t be at all surprised if a ghost popped out of the wall. He probably wouldn’t want her here either, she thought with a shudder.

Would she ever fit in here?

Mammy had offered one interesting tidbit. Travis’s mother and the fiancée wouldn’t be back until late November. That was, indeed, good news. At least, that gave Brooke a little time to work her wiles on Travis and establish herself as the mistress here before the other two women arrived.

She and Travis only had to be married for a year and then they could go their separate ways.
Then if he still wanted Miss Hesione, he would be welcome to her. Brooke would give him up freely. Or maybe it was more like, if Hesione wanted him. That thought made Brooke smile.

At least for now
it was one on one, but she would have to work fast. When Travis’s mama and his intended returned, the odds would change to three against one.

And Brooke didn’t like those odds at all.

Chapter Four

Brooke slowly came awake as the sun’s first rays crept in through the window. Morning seemed to have come much too soon and she wasn’t ready to face the day. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinked several times, and attempted to wake up. Snuggling under the covers, she tried to organize her thoughts before beginning the day.

The first week had gone by quickly.
She’d tried to settle into her new home, but that had proven to be a difficult task since she was considered an outsider in running the affairs of the plantation. Brooke had to remind herself several times to be patient. It would take time to win over not only the staff but also Travis.

Finally, yesterday she had begun to feel as though she was starting to win over the household staff.
Several of the servants had stopped to consult with her instead of pretending that she didn’t exist. Brooke considered that a big step forward.

She thought it might have helped when she’d volunteered to accompany several of the children to gather nuts from the pecan grove located behind the big house.
It was something she’d never thought she would do since she had never been particularly fond of children, but she decided she needed to do something useful. So she assembled four boys and three girls and several wicker baskets and headed out.

M
uch to her surprise, Brooke found she enjoyed spending the afternoon with the children. Having thought that she didn’t have anything in common them, Brooke was amazed they seemed to take to her. It was delightful to listen to their laughter and giggling.

George, who looked to be about nine, announced that he was the shaker.
Of course, Brooke had to ask what a shaker did.

He informed her proudly, his little chest swelling with pride.
“It’s the mos’ important person ‘cause I gets the nuts out of the tree.”