Southern Seduction (18 page)

"I'm going to have to dig the bullet out," the doctor said.

Travis nodded.
“Get it over with,” he rasped.

"Here."
He handed Travis the bottle of Scotch. “Better take a few more swigs.”

Travis pushed his body up, and propped himself on his elbow.
He grabbed the bottle and gulped the amber liquid down.

"All right, Doc," Travis muttered, his voice slurring, as he handed the bottle to Brooke, who not thinking, tipped the bottle up and took a swig herself.
Very unladylike, she scolded herself when she realized what she done. But she wasn't sure she could stomach seeing the doctor cut Travis without the extra fortification.

Travis chuckled.
"Didn't realize that you were a Scotch drinker, my dear."

"There are many things you don't know about me," she informed him.

"Hold him down," the doctor instructed. "Mammy, be ready to hand me some bandages after you give me that knife." He pointed.

Brooke pressed down on Travis’s good shoulder just as the tip of the knife slid down into the wound.
She expected Travis to scream or shout, but he never made a sound. He tensed and clenched the edge of the table for dear life. As the doctor probed deeper, fresh blood seeped out, and Brooke couldn't watch any longer. Instead she let her gaze dart to Travis.

He was staring up at her from his position lying on the table.
She saw the pain etched in his clouded blue eyes. He reached for her hand and clasped it tightly. Something inside of Brooke melted. Travis was in pain, yet he was trying to comfort her. He really did have a heart buried in that arrogant, stubborn chest.

"There it is," Doc said.

Brooke pressed down on Travis’s shoulder with all her might as the doc extracted the bullet. He held it up for her to see. Only then did she let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

"Just a couple of stitches and we're all done," Doctor Smart said as he threaded a needle with horse hair.
The stitches were made quickly. He cleaned the area with another generous dose of liquor, then began to bandage the wound. Doc had Travis sit up. Mammy brought over the fresh bandages, and they began to wrap Travis's shoulder while he continued to drink.

Brooke knew Travis had to be in a great deal of pain, but there wasn’t much she could do for him that he wasn’t already doing for himself.
Perhaps if he passed out it would be better for all of them.

Doc
tor Smart looked at both Mammy and Brooke as he gave his final instructions. “Watch for infection. You can tell by the purplish and red which spread away from the wound if it becomes infected. The redness should go away. Not get worse. If that happens, you better send for me immediately.”

With the help of
the doctor and the driver, they managed to get a staggering Travis into the carriage. Brooke sat beside him and Mammy across from them. Travis was quiet as the carriage rolled out of town, only showing some life after they had ridden several miles.

"Well, Mammy," Travis said in a drunken slur.
"Have you heard that I'm getting married?"

“
Oui,
I believe your mama is shoppin’ wit’ your fiancée, yes."

"You've not heard the latest news, then,” Travis said.
He seemed to be having a difficult time holding his head up. It felt like a brick and hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. He slumped over, placing his head on Brooke's shoulder.
Much
better
, he thought as he rolled his eyes up at Brooke. "You didn't tell her?"

"We had more pressing matters to deal with.
I don't think the subject came up," Brooke said.

Travis rolled his head back to Mammy.
"I've changed fiancées," he said drunkenly. "I'm going to marry Brooke in two weeks, so you’re going to be very busy planning the wedding."

"Ooowe," Mammy said, shaking her head.
"You goin’ to get married wit’out Miz Margaret?"

"Yep," Travis tried to nod, but the only thing he accomplished was to make his head slip lower against Brooke's breast.
So soft,
he thought with a grin before he continued, "Under the circumstances, I think it's best. Do I have your good wishes?"

Mammy looked uncertain at first, but finally she broke into a wide open smile.
"I t’ink you've made a good choice. But Miz Margaret, ooowe, she goin' to have a fit."

Travis smiled.
"Yes, she is." He realized his words were beginning to sound slurred, and Mammy was becoming a big blur. She was kind of sideways, he thought as he slumped further down until his head rested in Brooke's lap.

Brooke placed her hand across Travis’s arm.
Was he really going to marry her? "I think he has finally passed out," she told Mammy.

"Dat's best.
He's goin' t’ be hurtin' both in his shoulder, yes, and his head when he comes to." Mammy chuckled. "And we're go’n' be busy gettin' t’ings ready fo’ a weddin'."

The next week disappeared in a flurry of activities as they made preparations for a wedding.
Brooke watched everything as if she were in a daze. Was any of this real? She wondered more than once.

She never thought she would be getting married, had never really desired
to. She hated to admit that she had been swept up in the excitement of the thing.

Travis's wound healed quickly, though not soon enough to suit him.
Still he wasn't as grumpy as the first day when he'd remained in bed. After that, when he'd bitten her head off, Brooke had stayed clear of him. Let Mammy handle him. She wasn't going to put up with his foul mood. Perhaps he was regretting his quick decision to marry her.

Travis had managed to tell her that a telegram had been sent to Mr. Jeffries informing him of the impending wedding.
Brooke hoped that Mr. Jefferies received the message in time to make the wedding. It would be nice to have someone in attendance that she actually knew.

S
he would love to see Shannon and Jocelyn. It would be perfect if they could come, but Brooke knew it was impossible. However, they would be surprised that she was marrying first. Of course, they wouldn’t know that this wasn’t a true love match, but more a matter of convenience.

Eliza burst into Brooke's room with a swirl of petticoats.
"Good morning," the child said cheerfully as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "Mammy said to tell you that you need to decide on what kind of dress you’re going to wear for the ceremony."

"I haven’t given it much thought," Brooke admitted.

"Well, you should. Uncle Travis said he wants to do the wedding in Creole tradition."

Brooke turned away from her dressing table.
"I don't know anything at all about Creole traditions. What do the brides usually wear?

"Usually silk muslin trimmed in pearls."

Brooke went over to her wardrobe. "Maybe I have the perfect dress." She searched through her numerous gowns until she found what she was looking for. A cream-colored silk dress trimmed in delicate lace. She couldn't remember what she’d had the dress made for -- most certainty not a wedding -- but Brooke felt it would work.

Pulling out the garment, Brook held it up for Eliza to see.
“This gown was made by a
haunte
couturier
, Charles Worthless. The demand for his clothing was all the rage when I left London.”

"It's beautiful,"'
Eliza said with a sigh. "Look at that beautiful lace, so delicate. Maybe you can hand it down to me for my wedding dress one day."

Brooke smiled at the child.
"You’ll have to do some growing first, but I'd love for you to wear the same dress that I'm wearing when the day comes that you marry. We can start a family tradition."

“I dream about that day,” Eliza said with a sigh.
“Tell me what love is like.”

Brooke gaped at the child and her innocent question.
She was unprepared to answer because she had no idea what love felt like. “I--I’m sure it feels different for everyone,” she stammered, hoping her flimsy answer would satisfy the child.

“But tell me how you feel about Travis,” Eliza persisted.

Brooke felt like she was trapped in a corner. “Sometimes, I feel a little sick when I’m with him,” Brooke finally said.

“So being in love is like being sick on your stomach?”
Eliza drew her brows into a frown. “That doesn’t sound wonderful at all.”

Brooke laughed, easing some of the tension knotted in her stomach.
“No, it doesn’t, but it’s like butterflies. Maybe that made it sound a little better. “Then there is this excitement when he comes into a room.” Brooke thought for a moment. “I guess I don’t know how to explain love to you, but you’ll know when you fall in love,” Brooke finished lamely.

“When did you know that you loved Cousin Travis?”

When I found out I needed him to get this plantation
, Brooke wanted to say, but she couldn’t disappoint the child who was looking at her with such wide-eyed wonderment. “From the very first minute I saw your cousin, I thought he was so handsome. I guess I was attracted to him from the beginning, and as the days went by my feelings became stronger.”

“Does he kiss good?”

“Yes, he does,” Brook answered honestly.

"Well, I’ll keep dreaming,” Eliza said, then added,
“You'll get to meet my family tomorrow at the engagement breakfast."

Brooke swung around.
"Travis hasn't mentioned this breakfast. Isn’t it a little late to announce our engagement since we are to be married next Friday?"

Eliza's brown eyes grew big.
"You can't be married on Friday. That's Hangman's Day. You'll be married next Tuesday."

Brooke glanced at the child in surprise.
"It seems that you know more about my wedding than I do," she said, more than a little aggravated with Travis. The damn man could tell her something. He'd appear very foolish if the bride didn't bother to show up because she hadn’t been given the correct time and place.

Eliza giggled.
"I know our customs."

Brooke hung the gown on the door of the rosewood wardrobe and fluffed the skirts.
It looked so plain hanging there, but once the crinolines were placed under the skirt it would be fine. She turned back to the child. "Tell me something. Did Travis have an engagement breakfast for Hesione?"

Eliza scooted off the edge of the bed.
"No. Hesione wanted to wait until after her shopping trip." Eliza giggled. "Now she will have a wardrobe and no husband. She'll be in for a surprise when she returns."

"I actually feel sorry for her," Brooke commented thoughtfully.
She hadn’t met the woman, but she couldn’t help empathizing with her. "Especially if she loves Travis."

"Pashaw, Eliza said.
"Hesione is in love with herself.” Eliza started for the door. "I'm going riding. You want to come?"

"Thank you.
I’d like that. Perhaps, I'll get to see Travis while we are out. Lately, he never seems to be home in time for dinner."

Brooke enjoyed the freedom and the crisp air as they rode.
Ever since they had returned from the duel, she had been tethered to the house, first tending to Travis, then preparing for the wedding. This change of scenery helped her mood.

She felt free when she rode.
For just a few moments, she would enjoy the fresh air and the peace and quiet.  Unfortunately, all that ended when they topped the next hill that overlooked the sugarcane. Fires burned everywhere, and deceptively sweet-scented smoke drifted toward them. The workers were burning the ruined sugarcane and trash. Among the men, she spotted Travis. He’d gotten off his horse and seemed to be issuing instructions like a general.

Now she saw for herself what the storm had done.
The once healthy crop was destroyed. No wonder Travis had decided to marry her so quickly.

That was why she must always remember that this marriage was a business agreement.
Brooke could never let her heart get involved where Travis Montgomery was concerned.

Chapter Eleven

Travis wasn’t really looking forward to seeing some of his relatives over breakfast.

So what else was new?

Some he just as soon never see again.
But this time it was necessary. There would be enough whispering about his sudden change in marriage plans, so he would try his damnest to do everything in the correct Creole manner. Getting his relatives on his side would take some maneuvering; he just hadn’t come up with the perfect plan,
yet.

The more Travis thought about it the more this unusual marriage was growing on him.
There could be many things worse than being married to a beautiful woman . . . a beautiful, and very desirable woman.