Destiny for Three Page 6

  Elise’s stomach tightened. She’d known this moment would come. She didn’t relish the thought of telling Jeff about her decision to go north with Trey, but she had no choice. “Jeff, I need to talk to you about that. Could we go someplace private?”

  After a quick glance at the other mourners, Jeff nodded and escorted Elise to Edward’s study. When he closed the door behind them, Elise motioned for him to have a seat, but he declined. “I’ve been more than patient with you, Elizabeth, but the time for delaying is long past. We have an agreement, and I’ve held up my end of the bargain. Now, I’ve let you play your little game of hard-to-get, but it can’t continue any longer. You will not remain on this plantation alone. Memory or no memory, you need a husband, and that husband will be me.”

  Elise stiffened at Jeff’s authoritative tone. “Don’t issue orders to me, Jeff. You have no right.”

  “No right?” Jeff repeated, color rising in his face. “I am your fiancé!”

  “No, you’re not.” Shock registered on his features at Elise’s blunt statement, and she felt a moment of regret. She hadn’t wanted to hurt Jeff. Her intention had been to let him down gently. “Look, I’m really sorry, but as much as you want to deny it, I don’t remember our past together. And though I may have had feelings for you once, you’re virtually a stranger to me now. I’ve thought long and hard on this and I hope you’ll understand. I can’t marry you.”

  “You have to marry me,” Jeff argued, tension making a large, pulsing vein stand out on his forehead. “Edward’s gone, and everyone knows he was on the verge of losing Cottonwood. You have no choice.”

  “Yes, I do. I’ve decided to sell Cottonwood and go north. Trey Kingston has offered to let me stay with his family until I get back on my feet again financially. Please Jeff, I don’t want to argue with you about this. I’ve made my decision.”

  Jeff’s face reddened into a tight mask of anger as he turned from Elise and walked to Edward’s desk. He fingered the crystal inkwell for a moment while Elise held her breath. Suddenly, his fingers closed about the crystal and he spun to face her, hurling the inkwell in an explosion of fury. She gasped as it whizzed past the side of her head and shattered against the door, sending out a spray of ink that marred the fine wallpaper and Oriental rug.

  “You used me, you bitch! You never gave a damn about me, did you? I was just a convenient last resort in case you couldn’t find what you really wanted--someone rich enough to buy your affections! And now that someone is Kingston, a man no self-respectin’ woman would want.” He slammed his fist against the top of the desk. “How far are you willing to debase yourself for money, Elizabeth?”

  “Stop it!” Elise kept her voice strong despite the shiver of fear she felt at Jeff’s violent display. “I understand you’re angry with me, but leave Trey out of this. It was my decision, not his. The only reason he’s doing this is because he promised Edward-”

  “Bullshit! He’s doin’ this because he wants you! He’s always wanted you! So does his fucking brother! The filthy-”

  Elise jumped as the door burst open behind her.

  “Is there a problem in here?” Trey’s eyes took in the mess on the floor and Elise felt a wave of relief at his arrival.

  Jeff’s mouth twisted in a nasty sneer. “Trey, ol’ boy. Just in time for me to thank you.”

  Trey stepped inside and faced Jeff. “Thank me for what?”

  “Why, for savin’ me from marryin’ this bitch,” Jeff drawled, motioning at Elise with a look of disgust. “She’s nothin’ but a high-class whore. A whore who’s latched onto a whole lot more than she’s bargained for, right Kingston?” He cast a knowing glance at Trey, whose body tensed noticeably.

  Elise’s face burned with humiliation, but she tried to stay calm, telling herself that Jeff’s cruel words were meant for Elizabeth. “If I were what you just described me as, I would have married you, Jeff. I would have taken what your money could buy me, whether I cared for you or not. We both deserve more than that. You know it as well as I do.”

  Jeff’s hateful gaze burned down on Elise. “What I know is that you deserve everything you’re goin’ to get, sugar.” He rounded the desk and moved toward Trey. “Hell, why wait? Why not tell her now, Kingston? Tell her what’s waitin’ for her in New York.”

  Trey’s fist shot out, stopping the flow of venom instantaneously. The blow caught Jeff by surprise and sent him staggering backward. His heel caught on the leg of a chair and he fell, hitting his head against the edge of the desktop on the way down.

  Elise cried out and went to kneel beside Jeff’s still form. He may have said some awful things about her, but he didn’t deserve to die. Jeff was so pale and motionless, however, that she feared the worst. With shaking hands, she felt his neck, and to her relief, found a strong pulse. She looked up at Trey. “He’s alive.”

  “Isn’t that fortunate,” Trey grated out, gazing with undisguised hatred at the unconscious man. A shiver of awe swept through her. Trey was an intimidating man, dangerous despite his injured leg. He straightened his jacket and turned toward the door. “I’ll go get some men to help see Mr. Turner home.”

  Chapter Five

  Standing on the main deck of the steamship St. Mary, Elise held down her bonnet against the breeze that whipped the skirts of her black mourning dress and watched a flock of gulls diving and squabbling for the scraps of bread being tossed by a young boy. Seeing the happy youngster helped take her mind off her anxieties.

  "So far, so good," she whispered to herself as the ship steadily chugged its way northward through the waterways that separated Georgia's outer islands from the mainland.

  Elise had been less than eager when Trey informed her they would be traveling to New York by steamship. If memory served her correctly, she'd read somewhere once that these ships didn't have a particularly good track record for safety. There hadn't been much she could do about it though, except say a few prayers and hope for the best.

  A wave of melancholy swept through her at the thought of leaving Savannah behind. She'd always loved the south and had intended to make it her permanent home. But everything was so different now. It wasn't the same south she'd known in her century. She didn’t think she could stand living in a culture that tolerated slavery. Not to mention the fact that the Civil War loomed in the future. If her life here turned out to be permanent, she absolutely did not want to be in the south during that period of horror.

  Since the ugly scene with Jeff, Elise had spent very little time alone with Trey. Elise’s period had arrived, delaying their trip a week, and Jemma had insisted that a proper lady stay ‘confined’ through the course of her monthlies, so Elise didn’t leave the house much. She’d wondered before how women of this time handled their periods without the convenience of modern feminine products, but the soft cotton pads and belt Jemma had provided really hadn’t been that awful.

  Elise doubted whether she’d have seen much of Trey even if she hadn’t been ‘confined’. He had an enormous amount of work to do sorting his father’s possessions and finalizing the sale of Hopeton and helping see to the details of Cottonwood’s future sale. As promised, Trey had seen that Cottonwood's slaves were granted their freedom. Those that chose to follow them north would be coming on a steamer that was to leave a couple of weeks after the St. Mary. Jemma, Ned, and the other house servants would use that time to prepare the home for sale. Those few that chose to remain in Georgia were given small plots of land, with the hope that they would be able to make a living as farmers. Jemma and Ned were going to continue their duties, but at Trey's home as paid employees.

  Trey’s home. Elise shifted uncomfortably at the memory of Jeff’s warning about what awaited her there. He’d said that Trey had a brother who’d wanted her as well. Was that the reason Trey and Elizabeth’s relationship had ended on such ugly terms? Was there some kind of love triangle between her and the Kingston brothers? If that were the case, she could see why Trey wouldn’t relish the idea of bringing her back to
New York.

  Elise heard footsteps behind her and glanced over her shoulder. Trey stood there, decked out in a brown coat, pin-striped vest and fawn trousers. Dressed for practicality, he still managed to take her breath away. He was leaning against the railing, the sunlight picking out the strands of gold in his dark hair, studying her with an unreadable expression on his face.

  "Oh, hi." She slipped into her modern speech pattern accidently, nervous at being the subject of his scrutiny.

  Trey frowned slightly, leaned forward, then looked away, as if he'd been ready to say something, then dismissed it. A sigh of annoyance escaped him.

  "Something wrong?" Elise asked, coming to stand next to him.

  "We have a problem concerning our accommodations. It seems some zealous young clerk overbooked this passage, and although I'd specifically reserved two cabins, we are now stuck with one."

  Elise wanted to raise her arms and cry out, ‘Thank you, God!’ but she doubted Trey would appreciate the sentiment. She also couldn't help but imagine Jemma's reaction to their situation if she knew. The poor woman had nearly popped a vein to think that Elise would be traveling alone with Trey. It just wasn't proper. Elise had brushed the notion off as ridiculous and assured Jemma that she could take care of herself. As a modern woman, Elise had no problem at all with the prospect of traveling alone with a man, especially a man she wanted to jump in the worst way.

  Pasting a serious look on her face, she replied, "Goodness, that does present quite a problem. What do you propose we do about it?"

  "The only thing we can. We'll use the cabin in shifts. You can have it at night, I'll sleep there during the day."

  "That doesn't sound very practical. What are you supposed to do all night?"

  "The saloon stays open until midnight."

  "And after that?"

  "I imagine there will be plenty of unoccupied chairs on deck."

  "You can't be serious," Elise exclaimed, torn between dismay and humor over the lengths Trey seemed willing to go to avoid being alone with her.

  But he was.

  That night after sharing a roast beef supper in the elegant, but narrow saloon, Trey escorted her to the cabin and bid her a rather stiff goodnight, then left her. Disappointed and annoyed, Elise undressed and hung her gown in the wardrobe. Trey had been there earlier that day and hung a few items of clothing inside also, and she couldn't resist reaching out to touch the sleeve of one of his jackets. She brought it to her face and inhaled his scent, still clinging to the fabric. It only made her yearn that much more for the real thing.

  Sighing, she let the sleeve fall back in place and pulled her cotton nightgown down over her head, then took the pins from her hair and brushed it vigorously. She was just now getting used to the amount of care it took to maintain such a huge mane of hair. In her old life, she wouldn't have had the time required for all the washing and brushing and pinning. Now it seemed she had plenty of time, more time than she knew what to do with.

  Afterward, Elise sat on the edge of the bunk, tapping her fingers upon her knees and glanced impatiently around the cabin. It was small, but richly decorated, with flocked wallpaper in a deep golden hue, matching walnut dressing table, wash stand and wardrobe, and gleaming brass fixtures. It was quite comfortable, but would be even more so if a certain someone were here...

  Her breath left her in a small huff. She wished she had something to do that would take her mind off of the stubborn man who'd rather spend a night alone on deck than with her. If she were back in her own century, she would make a quick trip to the corner convenience store for a box of Dove bars, then curl up with a steamy romance novel--the hotter the better--and drown her sorrow in a thousand calories and a vicarious sexual thrill. That option wasn't open to her, however, so she put out the lamp and crawled into the bunk.

  Her head had no sooner hit the pillow than her mind filled with thoughts of Trey. How good his mouth had tasted as he’d devoured her like a starving man; How hard his cock felt, nudging against her belly; How his long fingers slid between the folds of her pussy, stroking, preparing her. She had no doubt he would have pulled her down and fucked her on the floor if Jemma hadn’t interrupted.

  “Mmm…” A shudder of white-hot desire moved through her at the thought, making her pussy grow slick and pulse under her hand.

  She growled in frustration. Damn the man! He wanted her. She wanted him. The attraction between them was so strong, it was inevitable they would eventually come together. Why did he have to be so stubborn and make them both miserable? She flipped onto her side and punched the skimpy feather pillow, pinching her thighs together to stop the throbbing.

  She eventually drifted off, only to be awakened later by the sound of rain beating against the side of the ship. Fumbling in the dark, she managed to light the brass lamp mounted on the wall next to the bunk, then dug in her reticule until she found Elizabeth's dainty gold watch. It was past one in the morning. The saloon would be closed by now and Trey would be out on deck in the rain.

  Muttering to no one in particular her feelings concerning Trey's stubbornness, Elise quickly drew on a simple, black linen gown and her slippers, threw a shawl about her shoulders and made her way through the quiet, lamplit hallway to the main deck. The rain was coming down in buckets and Elise found the skimpy shawl completely useless in keeping her dry. Her eyes scanned the deserted deck for Trey, but found nothing. Figuring that he must be where he could find at least some refuge from the rain, she wrung the water from her sopping wet shawl and started toward the area near the stern of the ship where passenger seats nestled beneath a sheltering overhang.

  Carefully picking her way along through the dark, she grew more annoyed with every soggy step. She lost her footing on the slippery deck and a shriek escaped her before she landed with a thud on her behind.

  "Ouch! Goddamnit!" Rubbing her throbbing rear, Elise came to her knees then tried to regain her footing.

  A hand firmly attached itself to her elbow and hauled her upright.

  "Are you out of your mind?" Trey demanded as he steadied her. His features were barely visible in the dark, but there was no mistaking his anger. "Don't you have any more sense than to go wandering about this ship alone, in the middle of the night? Are you just plain ignorant, or do you want to get yourself accosted?"

  Elise bristled at his insulting comments. Pulling her elbow from his grasp, she bent to snatch up her shawl and snapped, "Don't be ridiculous. Nobody's going to accost me here. There's no one in his right mind who'd be lurking about on a night like this." She gave him a sidelong glare. "Except, of course, for you."

  "And you," Trey reminded her testily.

  "Well, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for somebody's stupid idea of spending the night on deck!"

  Trey's voice rose an octave. "I suppose you have a better idea?"

  "Yes. I see no reason why we can't share the room."

  "Tell me, how has the fact that there's only one bunk escaped your notice?"

  "It hasn't. But that bunk is plenty big enough for both of us."

  Trey shook his head and water streamed down the side of his set jaw. "You are out of your mind."

  "Come on, Trey. We're both adults, so let's act like it, shall we?"

  "Exactly my point, sweetheart. We are adults and we have very adult urges."

  "Adults can control those urges. I can control mine," Elise challenged. Liar. "Can't you?"

  "Yes, damnit. But there are limits."

  "I promise I'll do my best not to push you anywhere near that limit, all right?" Liar, liar, pants on fire! Motioning a large X across her chest, Elise solemnly swore, "You have my word that I won't try to have my wicked way with you." Hey, all’s fair in love and war.

  *

  "Elizabeth-" Trey had to hold back the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of their conversation. Finally, pushing the wet hair from his forehead with a frustrated swipe of his hand, he sighed. "All right. But here's the deal, I’ll sleep on the floor, not in the
bunk."

  "Chicken."

  "Elizabeth!"

  "Okay, okay. It's a deal. Now can we please go back inside? My fingers are pruning up."

  When they arrived back at the cabin, they were both soaked to the skin. As Trey closed the door behind them, he was already having second thoughts about the wisdom of this arrangement.

  Elizabeth turned to him and smiled somewhat sheepishly. "Well, here we are…" Her cheeks flushed as she let the sentence trail off and her gaze darted nervously about the room.

  "This was your idea," Trey reminded her. "Having second thoughts?"

  "No, of course not. It's just that we both need to change out of these wet things, and this cabin really doesn't offer much in the way of privacy. I suppose we could just turn our backs." She cast him a mischievous look. "That is, if I can trust you not to peek."

  Trey folded his arms across his chest. "The question is can I trust you?"

  Elizabeth imitated his stubborn stance and replied with mock gravity, "Now that is a good question. I guess we'll both have to take our chances, hmm?"

  "Apparently so," Trey grumbled then retrieved his bed clothes from the wardrobe. She was enjoying this, the little witch!

  He quickly stripped away his cold, sodden clothes, trying to keep his mind off of what was going on behind his back. She was removing her garments, too. He could hear the soft rasp of wet fabric being peeled from bare skin, then the mushy plop when it hit the floor. As hard as he tried, he couldn't help but picture her in his mind, gloriously naked, the sheen of her moist skin golden in the lamplight, her nipples deliciously hard in the chill of the room.

  Trey determinedly shoved his legs into a pair of dry trousers, but encountered some difficulty when he tried to button them. Oh, hell! He knew this was going to happen. He was as stiff as a belt of sour mash whiskey! Uttering another swearword under his breath, he quickly shrugged on his robe to conceal the blatant evidence of his arousal.

  "Something wrong?"