Beloved Outcast (24 page)

And even if Logan didn’t love her, even if his stated intent to marry her was based on nothing more than arrogant desire, she would not forsake him. His pride might not want to let him admit it, but she was his best chance of staying alive. She thought briefly about the heroines who peopled her treasured books and realized they shared one common trait. Courage.

She was about to demonstrate to Logan and herself that she possessed that same noble quality. If she didn’t pass out first, she thought, trying to manage a deep breath despite the constraints of her corset.

“I assume Windham’s seemingly unreasonable animosity has been kindled because of your, er. association with his wife,” Victoria returned primly. “Through the ages it’s been well documented that a husband tends to be possessive of his wife’s faithfulness. Good grief, until quite recently duels have been fought over such incidents.”

“I never slept with the woman,” Logan said with evenpaced savagery.

Victoria knew her face was crimson. “You’re certain of that?”

“Lord, just when I thought you’d condemned me for every conceivable flaw a man could possess, you’ve come up with a new crime to lay at my door.”

“Well, she’s quite beautiful, and she does seem to…uh…be greatly attracted to you.”

Logan flushed. “What makes you say that?”

“She gazed at you most longingly.”

“That’s it? A woman looks at me and I stand condemned of seducing her?” Outrage coated the question.

She was tempted to tell him that if his reputation with women in general wasn’t in such shambles, the bizarre situation would never have arisen, but she refrained from assaulting that weak point. She wasn’t about to berate Logan for his past when his future hung in such desperate uncertainty.

“Not by me, Logan,” she whispered sincerely. “I believe you when you say that nothing amiss occurred between you and Athena Windham. But, clearly, the woman’s husband has grave doubts about the matter, and those doubts are clouding what is probably a usually clear-thinking military mind. Still, I’m convinced I can appeal to his practical side.”

“Victoria, I swear to God, if you don’t leave now, while you have the chance, I’m going to turn your over my knee and administer some sweet justice to your backside.”

“I don’t think those soldiers will let you,” she pointed out with strained patience. Apparently it was asking too much for Logan to believe in her. “You know, it’s extremely annoying of you to keep threatening to punish me as if I were an unruly child. You ought to be thanking me, instead.”

“Victoria—”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to have some confidence in me,” she said, cutting him off before he could issue any more threats. “If you didn’t suffer from an overabundance of manly arrogance, you would be able to admit I’m in the perfect position to extricate you from the snare in which Colonel Windham has trapped you.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but—”

“Of course you don’t,” she said, interrupting him again. “Because you’re a man who thinks women are useful for only one thing.”

A sudden gleam flickered in Logan’s dark eyes. There was no doubt in her mind as to what he thought that
one
thing was.

“Don’t stop now,” he said huskily. “You’ve got my full attention.”

“Pray pull your thoughts from…er…ah…”

“Yes?” he prompted softly.

“Logan, a man standing on the brink of disaster should have his mind set on lofty matters,” she intoned repressively. “You issued an ultimatum that I was to
marry
you, and—”

A tinge of uncertainty entered Logan’s usually confident gaze. “I admit my proposal was a bit rushed, and not overly romantic, but I’d hardly call it an ultimatum.”

“Women have probably been dispatched to prison with more sentiment than you demonstrated in your office,” she observed with asperity.

“Honey, you weren’t exactly in the mood to listen to any sentimental blatherings about love.”

Victoria’s heart took the hit dead center. Was that how Logan thought about love?
Sentimental blatherings?
Of course, she reflected dejectedly, men who abandoned brides at the altar probably were not, in general, a romantic lot.

“Be that as it may, I…I’ve decided that I owe you a great deal for getting me safely to Trinity Falls. Marrying you, however, as a repayment of your services, seems unreasonably excessive. Helping you escape Colonel Windham’s malevolent grasp will be a much more fair exchange.”

She interpreted Logan’s thunderous glare as an indication that he wasn’t in full accord with her decision. Before either of them could continue the discussion, the door to the church swung open and Colonel Windham swaggered into the chapel.

A charged silence gripped the room. For a moment, everything stood stock-still; then movement seemed to spiral around them as the soldiers appeared at her and Logan’s side and ushered them to the front area, where Windham stood waiting, like a poisonous spider decked out in military regalia.

“Lieutenant Lawson told me you had some information you wanted to provide, Miss Amory.”

She could see in the man’s cold blue eyes that he’d already made up his mind that anything she said would have no effect on the decision he’d already reached to have Logan guide him into the mountains.

She surmised her best way of dealing with the officer was with a direct frontal attack, something he probably wouldn’t be anticipating from a woman.

“When Mr. Youngblood and I were traveling to Trinity Falls, we encountered an Indian named Night Wolf and his tribe.”

“You mean Logan took you to their village,” Windham suggested harshly.

Victoria shook her head. “No, we were on the move, and so was Night Wolf.”

“Heading west, as I believe you told one of my men?”

Victoria realized the story she’d told in the hotel dining room had already been repeated to the officer.

“That’s right. So you see, Mr. Youngblood’s presence won’t be of any assistance to you. He won’t be able to take you to Night Wolf.”

Colonel Windham studied her with such unveiled disgust that Victoria suddenly had grave doubts about trying to reason with the man. Maybe Logan had been right. Maybe the officer was incapable of altering the brutal fate he seemed determined to inflict.

“You have my congratulations, Youngblood.”

She felt Logan stiffen beside her at the mocking words.

“Congratulations for what?” he asked, his tone guarded.

“For finding yet another victim for your lustful games.” His sneering gaze swept over Victoria with enough calculated contempt to make her feel unclean. “She’s a cut above the usual doxies you get to spread their legs for you.”

Logan gave no warning before he attacked. One moment he stood beside her, and the next he lunged at Colonel Windham’s throat. The uniformed men around her sprang into action, trying futilely to pull him off Windham.

They wrestled on the floor, crashing over chairs, slamming against a desk and knocking down the soldiers attempting to jerk Logan from their commanding officer.

The savage melee was unlike anything Victoria had ever witnessed. The unleashed violence of flying fists, harsh grunts and coarse oaths made her recoil, even as she sought a way to end the horribly unfair fight. She noticed that, despite being outnumbered, Logan appeared to be on the verge of pounding the life from Windham.

It was by accident that her desperate gaze fell upon the wicked-looking pistol that had been left unattended on the desk. Instinctively she reached for the weapon. Their wagon master had provided rudimentary instructions on using firearms before they left Independence. Her knowledge was sufficient for her to cock the gun and wave it threateningly.

“Stop, or I’ll shoot!”

The command had no effect upon the thrashing men.

She held her arm high, closed her eyes and pulled the trigger. The subsequent explosion inside four walls brought about an immediate cessation of falling blows.

The men jumped to their feet and drew their own weapons. Too late, Victoria realized she was hopelessly outgunned. Logan staggered to his feet, absently using the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his split lip. The sight of his beloved face once more battered by an unjust beating fueled her anger to white-hot fury.

“Put down the gun, Miss Amory.”

As one would have assumed the command came from Colonel Windham. She derived a savage shaft of pleasure at how many blows Logan had managed to land upon the officer’s bruised and bleeding visage.

“What will you do if I don’t—shoot me?”

“Victoria…” the cautionary use of her name came from Logan.

“Yes, darling?”

At the high-pitched endearment, Logan raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking, but suddenly she felt quite fearless. Holding a loaded gun no doubt contributed to the heady feeling.

“It would probably be a good idea to do as Colonel Windham says.”

“I don’t think we need to be too concerned about his opinions any longer.”

“And why is that, Miss Amory?” the officer inquired with ominous blandness.

“It’s just occurred to me that you do not realize with whom you’re dealing. I am not, as you so crudely phrased it a moment ago, one of Logan’s ‘doxies.’ It just so happens that my father is a federal judge who has many friends in high places, the kind of friends who would not take kindly to seeing his daughter publicly or privately abused by a member of the military.”

Windham wiped his bloodied mouth with his sleeve. “Am I supposed to accept your word that you’re who you say you are?”

Despite his scorn, Victoria stood taller. “I’m not in the habit of having my word doubted.”

“When you lie down with dogs, you shouldn’t be surprised to get up with fleas, Miss Amory.”

She met his contemptuous stare head-on. “What a quaint expression. It puts me in mind of something Senator Wilson is fond of saying—something about it’s not what you know in life, but who?” She smiled thinly. “Father had the senator and his wife over for dinner shortly before I left Boston. It was quite a festive gathering, what with General Bradshaw and his wife in attendance, also. It’s hard for me to remember if the general was more excited at the news of his impending fatherhood or his transfer to the capital.”

Windham’s eyes glittered briefly, but then a look of resignation settled over his mauled face. “You are free to leave, Miss Amory.”

“I’m free to leave only if Logan accompanies me,” she returned unflinchingly.

“Mr. Youngblood hasn’t completed his duty as a citizen of the United States by providing his assistance in locating hostile Indians.”

“I don’t think my father would share that opinion,” she mused with deliberate emphasis. “Mr. Youngblood and I are engaged to be married. As you can see, I am not exactly fresh from the schoolroom. My father has been waiting for some time for me to provide him with a son-in-law. In fact, I daresay that the continued good state of Logan’s health is of paramount importance to my father.”

A look of bitter surrender flashed in Windham’s gaze, and Victoria sensed she had won this battle. Her feeling of euphoria grew. She had done it! She had saved Logan’s life!

She shot him a quick, victorious glance. Instead of looking properly grateful or admiring, Logan wore an inexplicably shuttered expression.

“Naturally, I’m inclined to respect the wishes of a federal court judge,” the colonel told her.

She graced him with a conciliatory smile. “I’m relieved to hear that.”

“So much so, in fact, that I’ve decided to see his daughter securely married to the man he appears to think so highly of.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Miss Amory. Since you claim this man is your fiancé, what possible objection could you have to a speedy marriage that will place him even more securely under your father’s protection? While I admit I could not in clear conscience ask a married civilian to risk his life for his country, I would have few qualms about making such a request of a bachelor.”

Victoria was aware of Windham’s expectant scrutiny. Did

he think she would back down in the face of his direct challenge?

She glanced around the empty church. “You mean here and now?”

“Lieutenant, tell Reverend Donally that we require his services.”

Victoria swallowed. She dared not look at Logan, for fear of the rage she thought she might see. He
had
asked her to marry him, she reminded herself. In fact, he’d been quite bullish about the matter. But he could have hardly anticipated being forced at gunpoint to exchange his vows. And it was possible he hadn’t been sincere in the offer, she reminded herself. Perhaps he’d just wanted to…have her compliant body at his disposal while he conducted another of his scandalous affairs.

“Is there a problem, Miss Amory?”

She forced herself to smile. “No, of course not. I just assumed I’d be married in something a little more elaborate than a day dress.”

“Tsk, tsk, madame. Surely those are small considerations when undertaking a holy union of this magnitude.”

I really hate this man,
Victoria thought.

“There’s something else you need to attend to, Colonel Windham.”

The officer’s gaze narrowed. “And what is that, Miss Amory? Did you wish for my men to pick flowers to decorate the church?”

She
wished
she were a man and could direct a few blows of her own at the wretched creature. “When Logan was put in the stockade, one of your soldiers stole his timepiece. I want it returned to him.”

Windham turned to Logan. “You’re accusing one of my men of being a thief?”

Logan’s expression was coldly composed. “Forget about it. I can always buy a new watch. Get Donally.”

Victoria wondered what Logan was thinking as the soldier left to collect the reverend. She decided she wasn’t in a hurry to find out. The important thing was that she’d saved his life. Again. Too bad she hadn’t been able to recover his timepiece for him, also.

“Y
ou knew exactly what weakness of Windham’s to threaten. You attacked his career in the military.”

Those were the first words Logan had spoken since he’d become her husband. The soldiers who escorted them to the Prairie Rose had done so in silence. The men were gone now, and she and Logan stood outside her hotel room.

“Something about the way he strutted in his precisely pressed uniform, with all its glittenng braid and dangling medals, made me think that, next to the love of his wife, being an officer was the most important thing in his life.”

“And you quite ruthlessly exploited that weak spot in his character,” Logan continued reflectively, gently crowding her against the closed door. “I had no idea you were such a. masterful woman.”

She stared into Logan’s newly battered face, wondering at his enigmatic tone of voice. Did he not approve of how she’d taken charge of the tense situation inside the chapel to save his life? Or was he upset that her threats to Colonel Windham had resulted in a hasty marriage to a woman he hardly knew? She recalled the furtive glances she’d slanted toward him while Reverend Donally conducted the brief wedding ceremony.

Did Logan resent the manner in which he’d been forced at gunpoint to become her husband?

But just that morning he’d proposed of his own volition, she reminded herself with desperate hope. In fact, he’d
practically ordered her to marry him. She searched his indecipherable expression, yearning to see a hint of satisfaction at the unexpected outcome of her interference.

“Logan,” she breathed uncertainly. “You’re not upset about…about us, are you?”

He brushed his bruised knuckles across her cheek. Seeing the kindling warmth in his steady gaze, she thought that, had his bottom lip not been swollen, he might have smiled. “Go inside. We’ll talk later.”

She stiffened. “What is there to talk about?”

“All kinds of things.”

“Can’t we discuss them now?”

“I want to wash off the remnants of my scuffle with Windham’s men.”

“It was hardly a scuffle,” she protested. “Your clothes are torn and streaked with blood!”

“Brings back memories of how we met, doesn’t it?” he drawled.

Her thoughts spun back to how he’d looked that first morning, when he stumbled from the stockade. He’d resembled a magnificent, untamed beast. She considered him now and swallowed. Nothing had changed. She’d lost her heart to a passionate, possessive being who’d laid waste to the barriers she erected against him.

And he was her husband.

“Logan, come inside. I’ll tend your wounds,” she offered, finding it difficult to speak past the thickness in her throat.

He shook his head. “For once, my managing lady, we’ll do things my way.”

He leaned forward. She thought he was going to kiss her, but he reached around her instead and opened the door. With a firm shove, he sent her into the chamber.

Before she could object to his high-handed tactics, the door closed, and she was alone in her room.

“Well, what happened?”

Victoria jumped. She wasn’t alone, after all. Madison Earley, ruffles and springing ringlets in motion, crossed the suite.

“Where’s Logan?” the girl demanded.

“In his room.”

“What’s he doing there?”

“Taking a bath, I think,” Victoria answered absently, wondering how he had the gall to say he wanted to do things
his
way, when all along he’d dominated the events between them.

“He looked clean to me. Why’s he washing up in the middle of the day?” Genuine curiosity filled the girl’s blue eyes.

“Because he’s a man.” Victoria sighed. “And men are really very odd creatures.”

“But Windham let him go,” Madison said, fiddling with one of her ringlets. “I’d say that’s downright amazin’, considering he was mad as hops.”

Victoria found herself studying the pulchritudinous ruffles and ringlets engulfing the young woman speaking so earnestly. “Uh, Madison, who picked out your dress and styled your hair?”

“I did,” the girl boasted with heart-tugging pride. “Logan said he was sending for a real lady to teach me. Even if I don’t know how to read or write or talk fancy, I wanted to look nice.” She shook the swirling skirt’s flounces. “How’d I do?”

A wellspring of tenderness rose within Victoria. Not for all the first editions in the world would she hurt the vulnerable girl’s feelings.

“I’d say you did fine.”

Whistling under his breath, Logan rose from his bath. The movement sent soapy water sluicing over the sides of the tub. He disregarded the small puddles he padded through to grab a towel. He was too happy with the world to find fault with anything.

He had her. There wasn’t going be to a long-drawn-out battle to claim Miss Victoria Amory as his lawfully wedded wife, after all. Her own clever machinations had brought about the union he’d feared he would have to wage war to accomplish.

He needn’t concern himself with how he was going to lure her into his bed tonight. She was damned well going to be there because she belonged to him, before the eyes of man and God.

Absently he slung the towel over his shoulder. He was reaching for the trousers he’d laid across a chair when the sound of the door to his suite opening caught his attention. He broke off in midwhistle and wrapped the towel around his waist. There wasn’t a doubt in the world as to who’d just entered the room.

Victoria hadn’t been pleased at having to postpone, even briefly, the matters they needed to settle between them. Out of respect for her sensibilities, he would cover himself for the first few minutes of their discussion. Then, he thought, smiling confidently as he strode from his bedchamber, tonight was going to come sooner than he’d dared hope.

He stepped into the sitting room and halted. His visitor most emphatically was not his new bride.

“Mrs. Windham,” he growled, “what the hell are you doing here?”

Dressed in a flawlessly designed light blue silk gown, the woman smiled with startling composure. “I really tried to stay away, but I couldn’t. Don’t worry, my husband has no idea where I am. Don’t be angry with me, Logan,” she entreated him, her mouth curving ruefully. “I know I’ve caused you a great deal of trouble, but I’m ready to make that up to you.”

“That’s not necessary,” Logan hastily assured her, gripping his towel more firmly. The openly hungry expression in the woman’s bold gaze made him nervous. He was reluctant to employ force against her, but male instinct warned him it might be the only means by which he could evict her from his room. Hell, just the thought of the scene that
would cause made his blood grow cold. “Why don’t you do us both a favor and leave? We’ll forget you were ever here.”

“But I don’t want to forget,” she said lightly. “Come now, Logan, we’re both adults. I’ve heard about your exploits with women. You’re Trinity Falls’s very own Casanova.” Her fingers strayed to the top button of her gown. “It’s not as if I’m asking you to do what you haven’t done with countless others. I won’t make any social demands on you.” She laughed softly. “I have a husband, after all.”

“Then go to him and let him—”

“He rides a horse better than he rides a woman,” she countered bluntly, moving to the next button. “Don’t you understand? I want to be made love to by a man who’s dark and mysterious and who’ll know how to please me. My husband has received transfer orders. This is the last chance for us to be together.”

She glided toward him.

“Stop! Don’t come any closer!”

Logan felt like an ass for uttering the melodramatic words, but he’d never been in a situation like this before, that of being stalked by a married woman.

“Don’t fight it,” she cooed silkily. “I promise to please you. There’s certain acts I’ve heard that women can perform for men. Unfortunately, my husband finds such things distasteful, but I’m sure you won’t.”

Logan realized he’d been backing up as Athena Windham drew closer. Her gown was fully unbuttoned now, and she’d contrived to dress herself so her that nude bosom was exposed above her corset. He didn’t experience one twinge of desire. Panic was the overriding prod that had him reaching for her shoulders to push her away.

The woman was stronger than she looked, Logan discovered as she launched herself at him. He felt the towel drop to the floor and swore.

At that perilous juncture, he heard the door to his suite open again. With his luck, he expected to see Windham standing in the doorway with a drawn gun.

It was Victoria, though, not the enraged colonel, who stood before him.

Logan swore again, crudely and succinctly. There wasn’t a woman alive who would believe he was an innocent victim of Athena Windham’s unwelcome advances. For the first time in years, he’d held happiness in his hands; now it was about to be snatched from him.

He opened his mouth to defend himself. Dammit, none of this was his fault, and no matter what it took, he was going to convince Victoria of that.

“Mrs. Windham, you really must leave Logan alone. He’s a married man now, and he belongs to me. I have no intention of sharing him with anyone else.”

Dumbfounded by Victoria’s calm manner, Logan freed himself from Athena’s grip. Realizing he was buck naked, he plucked the towel from the floor and wrapped it around his waist.

Athena Windham also exhibited an amazing degree of composure, Logan thought as the woman methodically rebuttoned her dress. “I’m very disappointed in you, Miss Amory.”

“It’s Mrs. Youngblood.” But curiosity obviously got the better of her. “Why are you disappointed in
me?”

“You’ve married ‘Passion’s Pirate’!”

Logan’s skin burned at the offensive title. He’d hoped Victoria would never hear it.

“And that’s really not fair,” Athena continued, drifting toward the doorway before pausing. “Men like Logan Youngblood aren’t meant to be ordinary husbands,” she said chidingly. “They’re supposed to run free, like wild stallions who know no master. They’re a dream all women share in the darkest hours before dawn. And once in a lifetime, if a woman is fortunate, she has a chance for him to make love to her.”

Athena Windham shut the door quietly behind her.

“Victoria, you’ve got to let me explain.”

“I would very much like to hear your explanation.”

“That woman came into my room without an invitation! She…she threw herself at me.”

“I
see.”

“And I was naked because I’d just taken a bath.”

“That makes sense.”

“Then you believe me?”

“Absolutely.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. From the first moment he heard Victoria’s voice, when he was locked in the stockade, it had been one pitched battle after another between them.

It was inconceivable that she would so easily accept his flimsy explanation of why she’d caught him in his bedchamber, stark naked, with a half-dressed woman in his arms.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you believe me?” Logan held his breath. Would she tell him it was because she loved and trusted him? Or was the real truth that she didn’t care that deeply about him and, therefore, was indifferent to whatever he did.

“I believe you because the very same thing happened to me.”

“What?”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly the same. My disaster was hardly on the scale of ‘Passion’s Pirate’ being seduced by Athena, the Greek goddess of warfare.”

“Damn it, Victoria. I never wanted you to hear that name!”

“‘Passion’s
Pirate’?”

“For your own protection, honey, never say it within my hearing again.”

A look of bone-melting softness filled her eyes. “Even before Constance Pritchert told me of it, I’d begun to think of you as my very own personal pirate.”

Logan found redeeming merit in the formerly offensive title. Anything that pleased his new wife was fine with him.

“You were telling me about a compromising scene from your past,” he prompted, moving toward her. It occurred
to him that his sweet rescuer had on too many layers of

clothing. He needed to do something about that.

“Now that I reflect upon it, there are a couple of similarities between my experience and yours. I was in my bedchamber, and I was wearing only my chemise and drawers. And when Mother and her friends entered my room in response to Mr. Threadgill’s cries for help, he was minus his britches.”

Logan stopped in his tracks. From Victoria’s amused features, he sensed the incident had not been what it appeared—a young woman and her lover being caught in an

illicit tryst. Still, he was enraged that a man had evidently tried to take advantage of her.

“You better tell me exactly what happened.”

“It was all a misunderstanding. Mr. Horace Threadgill had climbed the trellis outside my chamber, bearing a rose for my sister. It was afternoon, and I’m certain he merely intended to leave it on her pillow as a token of his esteem.”

“He sounds like a fool.”

“An infatuated fool,” Victoria said, in a wistful tone that Logan found strangely irritating. “He entered my room by mistake. As I said, it was a simple misunderstanding.”

“And he lost his pants because…”

“I removed them.”

Logan squeezed Victoria’s shoulders. “Stop torturing me, honey. Tell me what happened.”

She sighed, allowing him to draw her close. With her cheek resting against his chest, her words drifted up to him. “There was this really savage bee. It had been hiding inside the rose, waiting for an opportunity to attack an innocent person. Well, it proceeded to choose poor Horace Threadgill as its target by flying up his pant leg and assaulting him.”

“Don’t tell me,” Logan said, his shoulders shaking. “You tried to help by removing the man’s trousers so you could get to the bee.”

“Are you laughing at me?”

He stared down at the auburn crown of her hair and smiled. “Never, honey. Never.”

Some of Logan’s light-heartedness faded as he recalled a scene from his past, when he’d walked into his brother’s room and discovered Robeena. That situation had been hauntingly similar to the one Victoria had interrupted with Athena Windham.

The subtle doubts he’d experienced lately as to what he’d really seen that hideous night intensified. As if sensing his disquiet, Victoria tugged herself from his embrace and regarded him solemnly.