Wildblossom (20 page)

"I'm not gonna ask you again, you little hellion!"

When a hand caught the edge of the sheet she had tucked under her chin, Shelby hurtled awake.
Good God!
It was Uncle Ben—he was real, here in her room—and she was naked! Her eyes opened in terror and she gripped the sheet and quilts with both hands, holding fast to her modesty and her secrets, while hot blood flooded her cheeks. "For heaven's sake—leave me alone! How dare you barge in here like this!"

Benjamin Avery looked chagrined. "Geez, Shel—it's almost ten o'clock in the morning an' the whole house is asleep! After I been gone this long, you can't blame me for wonderin' what in Sam Hill is goin' on in my own house!"

Her guilty blush deepened as Ben held up two coats in one hand, then mismatched boots with the other. "I—Well..."

"I come in the house and I find these coats on the kitchen floor, then these boots in front of the sofa, and a kerchief lyin' in between! When there's clothes all over the house and nobody around or answerin' my call, I began to think maybe you'd all been murdered!"

Shelby wanted to crawl under the covers and hide. "Where is Geoff?" she inquired in a tiny voice.

"Sawin' logs, when I checked. And I'm not talkin' about the kind that we burn in the fireplace." Ben shook his head disapprovingly. "Mr. Manypenny's sittin' up in bed reading
Collier's
and waiting for somebody to bring him breakfast. Told me he's been
sick!
Geez, Shel, that wonderful gentleman coulda died by the time you hauled your spoiled little rear out of bed and—"

"That's about enough from you!" she cried, rallying. "I didn't mean to sleep so late, and I'm certain neither did Geoff, but the fact is that we're both tired after a night of successfully rustling our own cattle back from Bart Croll's ranch!" It pleased her to watch Ben's eyes grow big as he took in this news. "As for Mr. Manypenny, he's doing quite well now, and if he truly wanted or needed something, I'm confident he could get it unaided." She drew herself up with dignity. "Now then, if you'll allow me some privacy, I shall dress and join you. I'm very anxious to see Titus—and Jimmy—and hear all about your trip! Was it wonderful?"

He shrugged, chastened. "Yeah, I guess. Not the word I woulda picked, but sure, it fits. Sorta like the word 'duchess' seems to fit
you
these days...." Backing out the door with a victorious grin, Ben felt generous. "I s'pose I could make some coffee while you get dressed, Your Grace."

"I'd really appreciate that,
dear Uncle Ben." Shelby willed herself to ignore his gibes, favoring him instead with her most winning smile, which she held in place until the door had closed behind him. Then she went limp, nearly overcome with the new realities of her life. Even Ben Avery, who thought her quite capable of almost any wild act, would not suspect that she was naked under the covers and had spent most of the night in the splendid embrace of an equally naked Geoffrey Weston.

She colored anew at the thought.

Shelby longed for a hot bath, but instead she slipped into a navy-blue skirt and fresh white shirtwaist with a high collar. Standing in front of her mirror and brushing her hair, she gazed at her reflection and alternated memories of Geoff's touch with a search for visible signs of the changes she had undergone overnight
.
Surely, now that she was privy to the secrets of womanhood, she must look different
....

It was so difficult to come back down to earth, and Shelby scarcely knew how to react when she emerged from her bedroom to find Manypenny shuffling into the main room of the house. The elderly manservant was impeccably clad in dark, faintly striped trousers, a white shirt, gray silk vest, and a striped tie. He even wore shoes, although they weren't tied very well, and his efforts at barbering himself had been less than successful.

Shelby rushed to his side, touched by his dignity. "Mr. Manypenny, how handsome you look!" She slipped a hand through his arm and felt him lean against her as they walked toward the kitchen. "Are you sure you're well enough to be up and around? You know, your strength won't return all at once. What does Geoff say? I hope you let him help you get dressed."

"If I may be so bold, Miss Matthews, I would offer the opinion that his lor—ahem! Rather I should say
Mr. Weston—
is currently behaving with a deplorable lack of discipline." He shook his big head to indicate just how deeply in disgrace Geoff was. "I believe he has only
just
decided that the morning is sufficiently well-aired to merit his attention."

Shelby laughed at Manypenny's starched wit. "I've been very lazy myself, sir. Last night we had to rescue our cattle from the neighboring ranch, and I think we're both very tired this morning."

"I daresay." Each syllable was so weighted with irony that Shelby reddened, wondering if he knew more than she and Geoff had imagined. She was spared a reply, however, by the sight of Titus Pym, who was pouring himself a cup of coffee and watching her with a twinkle in his eyes. When Manypenny spied the Cornishman, he reached for a chair back and said, "There is your friend, Miss Matthews. Go and greet him; you must not give me a thought."

Shelby helped him into a chair, then rushed to embrace Titus, surprised by the tide of affection that broke inside her. "Oh, Mr. Pym, I've missed you. It seems that you three have been gone an eternity!"

Surprised by the tenacity of her hug, the little man drew back and scanned her face. "Are you all right, my dear? I don't mind telling you that I had second thoughts while we were away, for your parents entrusted you to my care, and, well..." He tossed a meaningful glance at Mr. Manypenny, who was reading the newspaper the men had brought from town. Titus finished in a conspiratorial whisper, "We don't really know these folk very well, now do we? Have they been kind to you?"

"Yes—of course! And you know that I'm much too bossy to allow anyone to run roughshod over me." Shelby released him then and began pulling out pans. "I know it's after ten o'clock, but I imagine everyone could use a nice late breakfast, like the kind we used to have on Sundays after church. Pancakes and eggs and bacon—wouldn't that taste delicious?" She realized that she must appear over-animated, but couldn't seem to stop herself. While cracking eggs, sifting flour, and slicing bacon, Shelby explained to Titus how ill Manypenny had been, then went on to effectively dramatize the spring blizzard, the discovery of the lost cattle, the journey she and Geoff had made to Cody to report to the marshal, and the purchase of the gramophone. She was flipping pancakes, and the bacon and eggs were sizzling, when the back door opened and men filed into the house.

It made Shelby happy that her uncle was home where he belonged, and she grinned at the sight of Jimmy back among his fellow ranch hands, but when Geoff brought up the rear and their eyes met, Shelby's heart began to skip. Her palms and the soles of her feet broke out in a sweat. She was giddy and shaky, but she loved each palpitation.

Geoff's spell on her seemed to be more potent than ever. A shaft of morning sunlight followed him through the door, bathing his tanned face in a golden haze. His smile of greeting to Titus was magically friendly, and the body Shelby had learned so well during the past night now wore khaki pants and a freshly laundered white shirt.

"How did you get outside?" she asked, helpless to stop herself from gazing at him, longing to go into his arms. "I mean—Uncle Ben said you were still getting dressed...."

His smile lit her heart. "I slipped out the front door while you were doing a one-woman pantomime of the blizzard for Mr. Pym. I felt guilty for not having a look at the animals this morning."

"How are they?"

Before Geoff could reply, Ben pushed between them and grabbed for the spatula. "For Pete's sake, Shel, the pancakes are burning! What's wrong with you, anyway?"

"My fault." Geoff rushed to the burly fellow's aid, adding, "I distracted her."

Shelby removed herself from the fray by setting the table, a and soon they all were seated together, eating with gusto and all talking at once. The journey to Billings had apparently been a success. Some of the new horses had come south with Titus, Ben, and Jimmy; the others would arrive with friends who were coming this way. Most of the new farming equipment they'd purchased was already in Cody, waiting to be picked up; the rest would be delivered on the next train.

Titus urged Shelby to finish the story about the stolen cattle. Sitting side by side, she and Geoff took turns filling them in on Bart Croll and the previous night's great adventure. The men were shocked to hear of Shelby's direct involvement in such a dangerous undertaking, but she was quick to defend Geoff's decision to let her participate.

"You both know me too well to think I'd have stayed behind, and Geoff knows that I would have sneaked after them if I'd had to! It was easier to agree from the beginning—"

Gruffly, Ben interjected, "Sounds to me like I need to give our friend here some lessons on teachin' you to behave, Shel."

"Oh, don't be a pompous ass, Benjamin," Titus scoffed, stirring sugar into his coffee. "You can't control her any better than the rest of us."

"In my own defense," Geoff said, "I will say that I might have tried chaining her to the fireplace if not for the fact that only Shelby could identify our eight steers with certainty. Since they weren't branded yet, we couldn't afford to make a mistake, especially given the handicap of darkness." He exchanged a look with Shelby and caught her fingers under the table for a moment. "It was a risky venture, no doubt about that, but Shelby was determined, and very brave. I suppose one could conclude, 'All's well that ends well.' "

"I hope I don't see my niece's face on Wanted posters the next time I go into Cody," Ben grumbled. Then, perhaps a bit too casually, he exclaimed, "Geez, whats the matter with me? Almost forgot, Weston—you had a letter at the post office! Looks pretty
important."
He waggled his brows while reaching inside his denim jacket. Holding the envelope out so that Shelby could see it clearly, he slowly turned it over as he passed the letter across the table to Geoff.

She recognized immediately that the impeccable handwriting was a woman's. It was addressed:

Geoffrey Weston, Marquess of Sandhurst

Cody Township. The State of Wyoming.

The United States of America.

* * *

Shelby didn't want to look at the back, where another name was engraved on the flap, above the broken wax seal, but she couldn't help herself.
Lady Clementine Beech,
it proclaimed. Shelby thought, It's probably his old maiden aunt, or better yet, his nanny! She might have been able to convince herself of this if it hadn't been for Geoff's face. He colored guiltily at the sight of the letter, and next to him, Manypenny lifted one meaningful brow. It all lasted perhaps five seconds, then Geoff got the creamy envelope out of sight and regained his composure. No one else would guess a thing—except Shelby, who now was privy to the cadence of his heart, the green flecks in the depths of his eyes, and the taste of his sweat.

Lady Clementine Beech was a key player in Geoff's life in England! Her feminine instincts proclaimed this as fact and she knew then that her happiness must be too good to be true.

* * *

Shelby was possessed with curiosity about the letter—and despised herself for it. Deep inside, she could already envision herself sneaking into Geoff's room, rifling through his things, and reading the
letter,
and she was revolted by the scenario. Her faults might be numerous, but dishonesty, skulking, and violating the privacy of another person were not among them.

Yet she knew she would sink to that level, because she had to know. It occurred to her to simply ask Geoff, but she sensed that some defense mechanism in him would compel him to blur the truth. Clearly, if he were truly in love with Lady Clementine Beech, he would be in London rather than Cody—or he'd at least be talking about her. Geoff wasn't dishonorable, Shelby reflected, but he was a nobleman—the
Marquess of Sandhurst,
her subconscious kept trumpeting—and everyone knew that titled people had to live their lives according to other people's expectations.

She just had to know the truth—not Geoff's truth, but Clementine's. She'd given herself to him willingly (had she thrown herself at him?), and had no regrets, but something had happened to her. She had feelings for Geoff that were powerful and tender, and they wouldn't leave her alone.

So, later that afternoon, when everyone was out working with the new horses, Shelby slipped away. Just in case anyone asked, she mentioned to Lucius that she needed to wash the breakfast dishes and would be right back.

Approaching the house, she suddenly remembered Mr. Manypenny. He was sitting in his favorite wicker chair on the veranda, reading another volume of Trollope:
Phineas Redux.
In the sunlight, it was all the more apparent that he was thinner and, if possible, paler, but the smile he bestowed upon her was quite cheerful.

"Mr. Manypenny, may I ask you something?" Shelby inquired playfully as she stepped onto the porch.

"Of course."

"Do you remember any of the things you said to me during your illness?"

"A
lady
would not remind a gentleman of such lapses," he remonstrated with mock solemnity, eyes twinkling. "However, if you are referring to my insistence that you address me as 'Percy,' my reply is affirmative."