Southern Seduction (20 page)

Travis raked his hand through his hair.
"You've picked a fine time to have morals, my love."

Brooke reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "Better late than never," she whispered.

She then had the audaciously to walk out leaving him with an ache that needed relief.
One
more week
, he told himself. Then he was going to satisfy his lust with that woman one way or the other.

Later that night Brooke lie awake trying to understand the consuming emotions Travis was able to arouse in her
. She was not finding any answers. He had purchased the ring for her, that fact pleased her until she remembered what he’d just told his relatives. She'd been cold for so long that to feel anything scared her. Brooke couldn't deny that she wanted Travis, and he knew it.

So had she been better of
f in England, her other world? She wondered. Why hadn't Jackson prepared her for all this? She sighed and rolled over still staring out into the dark.

Strangely enough, she could still rem
ember her last conversation with Jackson. It seemed like it was only yesterday. The duke had been frail, but his voice still thundered when he spoke.

“For once in your life do as you’re told,” Jackson had snapped.

“By now you should know, I don’t take orders,” Brooke informed him
.

“Ah, my feisty girl,” he said with a slight smile as she adjusted the pillows behind
his head, “just try and humor an old, dying man.”

“Please don’t say that,” Brooke insisted.
“You’ve just had a setback. I’m sure you’ll be your old self in a few days.”

“The word is ‘old’, my girl, and I’ve had many good years, but I feel my number has been called
." He paused, catching his breath, "That is why I want you to listen to me. You might not take orders, but you are still a courtesan, and as such you’ll never have complete control of your future.”

Jackson's words had stung.
“Do you think that this is the life I chose for myself? If I’d had any other options, I’d surely have taken them. I had no hope until you found me.”

Jackson reached out and took her small hand in his.
She compared the young skin of her own hand against his thin, weathered skin. Some day her skin would look the same, withered and old, and she’d be robbed of her youth. Who would she turn to to hold her hand? Would she be all alone?

“If I had been younger things would have been different between us.
Of course, I still couldn’t have married you.” He paused and took a deep, rattling breath. “That is the reason I want you to get away from here. You deserve so much more than this life you lead.” He watched her, and she could see that he did care a great deal. She had always known that Jackson had been the father she’d never had.

“Our relationship has always been platonic, but when I’m gone you’ll have to choose another.
I don’t think you want to do that. I want you to have a chance to love.”

“I don’t believe in love.
There is too much hurt involved. My mother was a perfect example. She gave her heart to a man, and he walked all over her until he finally walked out of her life, leaving her with nothing,” Brooke said.

“Tisk, tisk, my girl.” Jackson shook his head.
“You have seen the bad side of love, but there is another side of love that can last a lifetime. Just think of Shannon and Jocelyn. They have had their problems, too. But the three of you together have bonded. I appreciate everything you've done for them.”

“If you say so,” Brooke said with a frown, “but I can’t believe in something I’ve never experienced.”

Jackson started to cough those racking coughs that always made her shudder. After a few moments, his attack eased, and Brooke gave him a sip of cool water. As he relaxed back on his pillows, it was very apparent that the coughing spell had left him weaker than he’d been.

After a moment, Jackson continued, “I’m going to give you the chance to find what I tell you is out there.
What you do with it is up to you. I’m going to leave you my plantation, Moss Grove, in America. There you’ll be able to start a new life and have all the things you should have.”

“I--I don’t know what to say,” Brooke paused
, for her voice had caught in her throat. When had someone given her something and not expected something in return? “You’ve been so good to me. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend.”

“And you, my dear, have been a joy to me.
I’ve done some things in the past I’m not proud of, so this is the first step to right one of the great wrongs in my past.”

“What wrongs?” Brooke asked, but she never received her answer.
The Duke of Devonshire slipped into a deep, sleep and two days later he was dead.

When Brooke opened her eyes, it was still dark.
She fumbled on the bedside table until her fingers felt her handkerchief. She dabbed the tears from her eyes. She would always miss Jackson. He was such a good man. But now she wondered what Jackson had been up to when he'd planned this entire thing. He had to have known that Travis would never give up the plantation. So why did Jackson give it to her?

Somehow Jackson wanted her to right his wrong.
She wasn't sure what that wrong was, but she'd bet it had something to do with Travis, and so far she'd made him miserable.

Brooke rolled over in bed and stared into the darkness.
"Jackson whatever you had planned -- it isn't working,” she said hoping he was listening somehow. “And I still haven’t seen this love you speak of -- you know the one that can last a lifetime. There is no such thing,” she said with a sigh and then she shut her eyes. Still, the tears trickled down her cheeks.

Chapter Twelve

The day of Brooke’s wedding brought cooler weather and the first frost.
Fall had finally arrived. It also brought Mr. Jeffries who arrived while she was eating breakfast.

Travis had told Brooke the night before that he wouldn’t see her until the wedding at Saint Louis Cathedral
. It was said to bring bad luck otherwise. Of course, Brooke knew that already.

Eliza had gone home so she could attend the service with her family, so Brooke was all alone this morning.
As she drank her hot tea, she wondered what kind of turn her life was about to take.

A commotion in the hallway dragged her out of her deep thoughts.
She couldn’t imagine who could be here. It was with great pleasure that she looked up to see Mr. Jeffries shown into the dining room.

Brooke squealed with delight as she scrambled to her feet, nearly tipping over her water goblet.
She met him halfway around the long table and gave the man a big hug.

"I can't believe you are here," she said, stepping back from him.
“It is wonderful to see you,” she added, noting his blush. There was something about Mr. Jeffries that comforted her, someone familiar in a place where things were still very alien to her. Perhaps, it was because he was her one link to her past. Then again, it could be because he was older and wiser.

"Have you had breakfast?" she finally asked, remembering her manners.

"Afraid not. I had to travel all night to make it in time," he said, removing his hat. “Let me assure you that these old bones are not accustomed to riding like a madman over hill and dale.”

"Come sit down."
Brooke waved him over to the table, laden heavily with all manner of breakfast foods, far too much for one person to consume. "I hope you are hungry. As you can see, there is more than enough.”

Mr. Jeffries settled himself gratefully into a chair.
Brooke rang a tiny brass bell that set in front of her plate and a kitchen maid scurried in. “Please bring a plate for Mr. Jeffries.”

As the maid scuttled away, Brooke turned back to the solicitor.
“Eat now. You'll have plenty of time to rest and freshen up. The wedding isn’t until this evening."

The maid returned carrying a plate of fresh sausage and eggs.
Brooke ordered another pot of tea as well. After the servants had gone, Mr. Jeffries said, "An evening wedding is a bit unusual, isn’t it?"

“
I know.” She smiled, remembering as she reached for cup and saucer that she’d said those very words herself when Eliza told her the time. “I would have thought the ceremony would have been around midday as it is in England, but this is yet another Creole tradition, or so I'm told."

"I would imagine there are many different traditions in this country.
I’m pleased to see that you seem to be adjusting well.” He smiled as he placed the napkin on his lap before adding, “His Grace would have been pleased."

“
Would he?” She knew she sounded doubtful. “I've often wondered why he sent me here. I thought it was to give me a new start in a new life without any problems. However, I encountered one very big problem when I arrived here.” She gave a half-laugh and gestured to indicate the room and the rest of Moss Grove. “Why did he give me only part of all this? Especially when he could have given Travis the entire plantation and rightfully so."

"I’m sure he had his reasons.
You’ll find life will always be full of unexpected turns,” Jeffries said as he spread a liberal spoonful of jam on his toast. “And, its share of problems,” he added. Then seeing her frown, he explained, “I wish I could give you the answers that you need, but His Grace did not see fit to explain his logic to me, either. I think in time that you will know what he intended for you." He took a big bite of jam-covered bread, then reached for his cup. "Tell me, are you unhappy?"

Brooke stared at Mr. Jeffries for a moment, wondering how to answer his strange question.
"I really haven't thought about it," she finally admitted.

"Perhaps you should."

Brooke took a deep beneath. "To be truthful, I don't know how I feel. I came here expecting to run a plantation I thought was mine. But once I arrived, I found I was both an unwanted guest and part owner."

"Could you run the plantation by yourself?" Mr. Jeffries asked rather pointedly.

"Perhaps in time,” Brooke reluctantly confessed with a shrug. “Travis does a wonderful job here, and his workers admire instead of fear him. I have heard stories of what occurs on other plantations. Some of the stories would make you sick to your stomach." She paused. “I want to contribute, but I have so much to learn.”

"I've heard such stories, as well," Mr. Jeffries commented, then wiped his mouth with the linen napkin.
"But you still haven't answered my original question. Are you happy?"

Brooke’s shoulders drooped as she admitted the truth, "I'm not unhappy.
It's just that I had so wanted to plan my own future. And, quite frankly, that future did not include getting married. Now I find myself doing exactly what I’d declared I'd never do.” Brooke sighed with long pent-up frustration. “But then I remind myself that it’s only temporary. In a year we can go our separate ways."

“Indeed?”
Mr. Jeffries arched an eyebrow and gave her a funny kind of smile. "So, you both are working together as business partners. I think that is a good start. Who knows how you will feel after a year has gone by?"

"I'm sure we’ll feel the same as we do now," Brooke answered quickly.

Why would we want to stay married when we don't love each other
? She thought to herself. No sense in telling Mr. Jeffries, however. And just what was love, anyway? She hadn't been able to explain it to Eliza, and for some reason that made Brooke sad. She had never experienced the one thing that most people seemed to cherish above all others. Somehow, she had been deprived of this wonderful thing.

“I’m truly sorry,” Jeffries said.
“I seem to have made you sad. That was not my intention.”

"It's not you," Brooke told him.
"It’s the sad truth that I do not truly know what love is. I tried to explain it to a child the other day, and I could not."

Mr. Jeffries pushed his chair back from the table.
“I beg to differ,” he said, plucking his napkin from his lap. He continued once he had her attention. “Few of us can explain love. It is an intangible thing,” he said with a shrug. “You can’t hold it, you can’t see it, but once you find it, it’s worth a fortune in gold.”

“You speak as if you know of such,” Brooke remarked thoughtfully.
“Do you? Have you found love?”

“When I was younger,” he said with a wistful smile.

“And?”

“She was young and beautiful, perfect in every way,” Jeffries said, a faraway look on his face as he recalled.
“She brought joy into my life and showed me how to appreciate the simple pleasures.”

“And did you marry her?”

Jeffries smiled. “As quickly as I could,” he said. obviously thinking fondly of the mystery woman. “We spent many wonderful years together.”

“What happened then?”
Brooke couldn’t help her curiosity. Mr. Jeffries had changed completely as he spoke of his wife. “If you don’t mind me asking.”