Rapture's Tempest (19 page)

“Then you might have known my fiancé, Paul Elliot?”

“Elliot?” Wade managed to look pensive. “He was killed, wasn’t he?”

Dorrie looked away quickly, revealing just how deeply she was still affected by the thought of her lost love.

“Yes,” she murmured softly.

Immediately pressing his advantage, Wade took her hand, “Dorrie, I’m sorry if I’ve upset you….” And he almost grinned at his success when she pressed his hand intimately.

“No, I’m all right…really.”

“Would you like to walk out into the hall for a few minutes?” Wade was anxious to get her away from the prying eyes that surrounded them.

“Yes, please.” Dorrie set her glass aside and allowed Wade to escort her from the room.

Once out of the ballroom, Dorrie looked up at Wade with hopeful eyes. “Did you know him?”

Wade managed a pensive look. “Was he blond? Not too tall?”

Dorrie nodded, and, stifling a small sob, she turned quickly away. She was furious with herself for her weakness, but Paul had meant so very much to her.

“Dorrie…” Wade slipped an arm gently about her waist after making sure they were alone. Drawing her nearer, he caressed her back in a soothing motion.

“Marshall, what do you think about…?” Mark’s conversation came to an abrupt end as he and Marshall stepped into the hall to find Dorrie and Wade MacIntosh in a seemingly heated embrace.

Mark drew himself up stiffly as his face paled. Dorrie? MacIntosh? “Marshall, if you’ll excuse me?” Holding himself rigid, he turned and left the house.

Marshall watched Mark leave and then faced his sister. “Dorrie? I believe Renee wanted to talk with you about something important.”

Wade had observed the entire scenario with barely disguised delight. In one bold move, he had eliminated Mark Clayton as a possible rival and broken through Dorrie’s icy reserve. Pleased with himself, he reluctantly let her go.

“I’ll speak with you later,” he told her intimately.

“Thank you.” Giving her brother a cold look, she followed him into the ballroom.

“Dorrie,” Marshall intoned under his breath as they were crossing the dance floor to join Renee, “I usually don’t interfere in your affairs, but…”

“That’s right, you usually don’t, so don’t start now!” she hissed at him, startling herself and him by her vehemence. With her head held high, she hurried ahead of him, leaving him at a loss for words.

Mark rode quickly away from the Taylor house. The cold night air helped to clear his head, but it did little to control the angry jealousy that burned inside of him. How could she? After all the time he’d spent trying to win her over, she let
Wade MacIntosh step in and take her in his arms in one night.

Furious with Dorrie and furious with himself for being so patient with her, Mark galloped back to his quarters. No longer would he play the nice guy, content with just a few kind words and an occasional smile from her. He was fed up with her cool, distant manner. He loved her, damn it! He had loved her for years, and it was time she realized that he was not her lap dog! He was a man with the same needs as any other man.

Determination set in as Mark undressed and lay down. He was going to show Dorrie just how much she meant to him. He had been bending to her wishes for too long now. But before he changed his tactics with her, he was going to do some serious checking on Captain Wade MacIntosh. There had been something he didn’t like about the man even before he’d made his move on Dorrie, and Mark was determined to find out everything he possibly could about his background.

Delight undressed slowly, glad that Rose had gone on to bed. What a horrible night! Between Annabelle Morgan’s smugness and Martin’s “friendly” overtures, she was exhausted— mentally and physically.

It had never occurred to Delight that she would run into Annabelle tonight, for they had always seemed to travel in different social circles. But there she’d been, in all of her blond beauty, flashing Jim’s engagement ring and bemoaning the fact that he had been called away on business.

Tears stung her eyes as she thought of Annabelle and Jim together. What a handsome couple they would make. Delight sighed wearily. She was so tired. Nothing seemed to be right in her life. While it was true that she was back home and her mother was well, all she could think about was the night she’d spent in Jim’s arms and how perfect it had been.

Climbing into bed, she curled on her side and hugged her pillow to her. Somehow Delight knew she would have to find a way to get over Jim. She couldn’t go on like this forever…remembering only his love and not his rejection. He had been so furious that morning….

And the thought that she might come face-to-face with him at some future social gathering made her shiver. No, she didn’t need that kind of confusion in her life. She would make certain that she steered clear of Jim and Annabelle.

Closing her eyes, she let sleep overtake her, sweeping her away into the soft clouds of her dreams where a loving Jim eagerly awaited her return.

Jim strode wearily down the texas deck, his broad shoulders hunched against the vicious assault of the bitter winter wind. Exhaustion showed plainly on his handsome features as he let himself into his office. Quickly shutting the door behind him, he shed his greatcoat and turned up the lamp.

Home…at last they were heading home. His relief was overwhelming. This trip had already dragged on much too long, as far as he was concerned. Opening his bottom desk drawer, he extracted a half-full bottle of scotch and a semi-clean tumbler. Sloshing a liberal amount into the glass, he drank it eagerly in hopes that its fiery warmth would ease the tight knot of tension deep within him.

Sitting down at his desk, Jim leaned back in his chair. Though he was tired, for the first time in days he felt good about himself. He had taken this time on the river to analyze his situation, and he knew now what he was going to do.

The knock at the door brought a “come in,” from him, and Ollie wasted no time getting in out of the cold.

“Problems, Ollie?”

“No. I’m fine. What about you?” he asked, taking off his coat and accepting the drink Jim was offering.

“As of right now, I’m fine, too.”

Ollie looked at him questioningly. “Oh? I know you’ve had a lot on your mind lately…have you finally worked things out?”

“Lord, I hope so.” Jim finished his scotch and put his glass away. He had had enough of drinking for a while. He needed a clear head from now on in.

“So, what have you decided?”

He shrugged. “I’ve done everything I can do where Murphy is concerned.” His tone was almost bitter as he continued. “She obviously doesn’t want to be found.”

As the long days had passed on this trip, Marshall’s suggestion that Murphy might have been a spy had instilled doubts in his mind…doubts that had eroded Jim’s idealized, romantic view of what had taken place between them that night.

Ollie nodded. “So what are you going to do now?”

“Nothing. I’ve wasted enough time looking for her.”

Jim had now managed to convince himself that his time with Murphy had been a momentary aberration…a moment in time magnified beyond all reality by his overactive imagination. Surely no woman could have been as wonderful as he had imagined Murphy to be. Why should he ruin the rest of his life chasing after a dream that in all probability had existed only in his mind?

“Then you’re going to let her go?”

“I have to.” He looked at Ollie grimly. “I have my own life to live. I can’t spend the rest of my days searching for a woman who doesn’t exist.”

“Murphy was no figment of your imagination, Jimmy.” Ollie defended her in her absence.

“Maybe not.” Then Jim blurted out, his manner hostile, “But she damn well could have been a spy!”

“Murphy?” Ollie was incredulous.

“You’re damn right! Right after she disappeared, the word was out that we were the ones carrying the gold.”

“And you think Murphy had something to do with it?”

“She hand-carried the contracts to Marshall. She had ample opportunity to read them.” The possibility of her involvement still made Jim miserable, but he knew Ollie should know the truth.

“Murphy wasn’t a spy,” Ollie stated bluntly. “I know it, and so do you.”

Jim scowled at his friend. “How can you be so sure? It would certainly explain her disappearance.”

“Maybe so, but there could have been other reasons for her leaving like that.” Ollie wanted to go on, but he sensed Jim’s agitation and let the subject drop. If it was easier for him to believe the worst about Murphy, so be it. The long hours of searching for her had certainly taken their toll on him, and he understood Jim’s need to get on with his life.

“We’ll never know, will we?” His tone was sarcastic.

“I don’t suppose we will.”

Having finally spoken out loud the thoughts that had been haunting him ever since he’d left St. Louis, Jim felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. His conclusions were logical; his decision to go ahead with his marriage to Annabelle was sound.

“You’re staying with Annabelle, then?”

“Yes.”

It was only a short time later that Ollie left Jim’s cabin. He couldn’t help but feel that Jim was making a big mistake by continuing his betrothal to Annabelle Morgan, but with Murphy gone there was no argument he could use to deter him.

After Ollie had gone, Jim walked slowly over to his bunk and lay down. Thoughts of that night with Murphy assailed
him, but he staunchly pushed them from his mind. What had happened between them had been a mistake, and it was in the past. He had his own future to think about, and his future was with Annabelle.

Annabelle crossed the room to join Wade on the sofa. “How are you doing with Dorrie?”

Wade chuckled cynically. “It’s amazing what dredging up a dead fiancé can do for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was having a hard time breaking through that reserve of hers, so I brought up Paul Elliot.”

“And?” She eagerly anticipated his next ploy.

“I told her that I’d been serving under Lyon the same time he was. I even convinced her that I’d known him.”

Annabelle laughed delightedly. “She believed you?”

“Totally. You would have been amazed by the transformation that took place. She went from an ice maiden to a forlorn, vulnerable woman in a matter of just a few sentences.” Wade was smug.

“How do you do it?”

“I haven’t accomplished anything yet, my love,” he warned her.

“I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. When are you planning on seeing her again?”

“I didn’t have the opportunity to set anything up with her. Mark Clayton and Marshall caught us in the hallway.”

“Caught you? Doing what?”

“Nothing spectacular. I was just comforting her, but to them it must have looked quite scandalous. Clayton stormed out of the house and Westlake told her his wife was looking for her.”

“Oh, how charming. You almost compromised her.” Anna-belle couldn’t help but smile. She had known that Wade would succeed. “I’m so proud of you, but what are you going to do now?”

“Wait.”

“Wait?”

“If I read Miss Dorrie Westlake right, she’ll be contacting me, and soon.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I’d bet on it,” Wade answered confidently.

Dorrie stared at the note she had just written and hesitated. Should she send it? Never before had she done anything so brazen…unattached females just did not write notes requesting meetings with single men. But surely the chance to hear more about Paul was worth it.…Without further debate, she sent the note.

Clara and Delight wandered happily through the shops on Veranda Row. It was their first shopping spree together since Clara had been ill, and they were enjoying every minute of it. Delight was overjoyed that her mother was at last fully recovered, and they had spent the entire afternoon just relaxing and being happy in each other’s company.

“I have a wonderful idea, darling,” Clara told her daughter affectionately as they paused outside of a dressmaker’s shop.

“What, Mother?”

“I think we should have a party. It’s been so long since we’ve done any real entertaining.”

“You’re right. But are you sure you’re up to it?” Delight asked.

“I’m fine now, so don’t worry about me. It will be great fun, don’t you think? And, of course, we’ll need new gowns.” Clara loved to be extravagant when it came to clothes.

“It’s not necessary,” Delight hastened to reassure her.

“It may not be necessary, but it does sound exciting.” Taking Delight by the arm, she led her into the shop. “Come on, we’re going to buy the most beautiful gowns in St. Louis. And if we can’t find what we want, we’ll order them made.”

An hour and a half later, they were on their way home, exhausted but pleased with the success of their trip.

“Will two weeks give us enough time?” Clara was growing more excited by the minute as she planned the upcoming party.

“It should. I’ll check with Rose and Sue to make sure they can get everything done in time. But I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

“Good. I’ll tell Martin when we get home. I’m sure he’ll enjoy entertaining once again. We haven’t done it in so long.” Clara paused, looking at Delight thoughtfully. “You did like the pattern we picked for your gown, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yes. It’s going to be beautiful. And I love the matte taffeta. But you don’t think that the color is too bold for me, do you?”

“Nonsense. You’ll look stunning in it. The deep cranberry color suits you; it will set your hair off perfectly.”

“I’ve never worn that shade before, but, I must admit, I did like it.”

Clara patted her hand. “You’ll be the most gorgeous woman there. Wait and see. Now, what shall we serve?”

Their conversation turned to the mundane as their carriage arrived back at their home.

Dorrie was pacing the study restlessly, and Renee looked up at her from the sofa where she sat busily working on her needlepoint.

“What on earth is bothering you today? You’re nervous as a cat.”

Feeling a bit guilty for not having told Renee what she’d done, Dorrie faced her and prepared to explain. “I’ve invited a friend over this afternoon.”