of my six sisters have gone through the same thing.”
He was stroking the reviving cloth down her neck, right to the beginning swell of her breasts, without hesitation or modesty. Caught in an agitation of relief and outrage that he should take such liberties so casually, she almost missed his meaning, until he put it plainly.
“How far along are you?”
“How what?”
“When are you expecting the baby?”
She lifted her head, staring at him through the straggle of her hair. Baby? Another wave of nausea tore through her belly, leaving her spent and trembling. She’d suspected it. She’d feared to consider it openly, but in the back of her mind, the possibility had been there, a terrible consequence of her sins.
She was pregnant.
And this brash Northerner, who was by his own admission no gentleman, knew it, too.
Starla pushed up from her hands and knees to wobble to her feet. It took Dodge considerably longer to wedge his crutches under his arms and angle his unwilling legs into a position to support him. By then, Starla was breathing in hard, hurried snatches, her stare unnaturally bright with panic.
“I’m no such thing,” she denied with a shrill vehemence. “You are mistaken, sir. It’s something I ate, is all.”
Dodge stared back at her, his gaze knowing and strangely apologetic. She knew he didn’t believe her. So she leaned close to him, close enough for him to read the desperate sincerity in her glare.
“If you breathe one word of that slanderous lie, I’ll have my brother come calling with six inches of steel that’ll see you never spread such vile rumors again.”
With that cold promise to seal his mouth shut, she whirled away and ran a zigzag path toward Pride’s livery, where she’d have Reeve take her back to the safety of the Glade.
But how safe would she be, now that the past was coming back to haunt her with a merciless vengeance?
Chapter 5
Few things could have surprised and alarmed Starla more than to hear that Hamilton Dodge was waiting to see her.
Patrice relayed the information carefully. And though she hadn’t said as much, Starla was certain Reeve had told her friend how rattled she’d been on the drive back from town. Reeve had asked no questions, but it was unlike Patrice not to. Starla sensed her friends were treading cautiously around her. While she was grateful for not having to explain, she had to wonder what conclusions they were drawing on their own.
Now the Yankee banker was here, requesting a moment of her time.
Patrice announced him the way she would a favored courting beau. That in itself was enough to goad Starla into anxious irritation. But knowing what he knew cast a different slant on his purpose. Whom had he told? What would it take to keep him silent? These questions defied the calm manner she tried to project. Patrice claimed the shrewd banker to be a good man. Starla knew only thecontradiction of the words “good” and “man.”
As she checked her color and the neckline of her gown for modesty, she scowled at her reflection in the glass. He’d seen her at her absolute worst. What was the point in preening? Unless a flirtatious smile could dissuade him from ruining her.
How much more would he demand than that?
True, the Yankee hadn’t fallen easy prey to her charms, not like the majority of men she led by their libidos. He seemed singularly immune to her coquetry. That very difference made him dangerous, to her and to her secrets. If he couldn’t be manipulated by a few simpering sighs, how could she bend him to her will?
She was searching frantically for that answer when she followed the scent of good cigar out onto the front veranda. In the late afternoon, the smell didn’t have the same disastrous effect that it had that morning.
He was seated on one of the inviting wicker chaises cozied up into the shadow of the Glade’s cool white brick, feet propped up on a low bench before him. His gaze jumped to her immediately but he made no
He was stroking the reviving cloth down her neck, right to the beginning swell of her breasts, without hesitation or modesty. Caught in an agitation of relief and outrage that he should take such liberties so casually, she almost missed his meaning, until he put it plainly.
“How far along are you?”
“How what?”
“When are you expecting the baby?”
She lifted her head, staring at him through the straggle of her hair. Baby? Another wave of nausea tore through her belly, leaving her spent and trembling. She’d suspected it. She’d feared to consider it openly, but in the back of her mind, the possibility had been there, a terrible consequence of her sins.
She was pregnant.
And this brash Northerner, who was by his own admission no gentleman, knew it, too.
Starla pushed up from her hands and knees to wobble to her feet. It took Dodge considerably longer to wedge his crutches under his arms and angle his unwilling legs into a position to support him. By then, Starla was breathing in hard, hurried snatches, her stare unnaturally bright with panic.
“I’m no such thing,” she denied with a shrill vehemence. “You are mistaken, sir. It’s something I ate, is all.”
Dodge stared back at her, his gaze knowing and strangely apologetic. She knew he didn’t believe her. So she leaned close to him, close enough for him to read the desperate sincerity in her glare.
“If you breathe one word of that slanderous lie, I’ll have my brother come calling with six inches of steel that’ll see you never spread such vile rumors again.”
With that cold promise to seal his mouth shut, she whirled away and ran a zigzag path toward Pride’s livery, where she’d have Reeve take her back to the safety of the Glade.
But how safe would she be, now that the past was coming back to haunt her with a merciless vengeance?
Chapter 5
Few things could have surprised and alarmed Starla more than to hear that Hamilton Dodge was waiting to see her.
Patrice relayed the information carefully. And though she hadn’t said as much, Starla was certain Reeve had told her friend how rattled she’d been on the drive back from town. Reeve had asked no questions, but it was unlike Patrice not to. Starla sensed her friends were treading cautiously around her. While she was grateful for not having to explain, she had to wonder what conclusions they were drawing on their own.
Now the Yankee banker was here, requesting a moment of her time.
Patrice announced him the way she would a favored courting beau. That in itself was enough to goad Starla into anxious irritation. But knowing what he knew cast a different slant on his purpose. Whom had he told? What would it take to keep him silent? These questions defied the calm manner she tried to project. Patrice claimed the shrewd banker to be a good man. Starla knew only thecontradiction of the words “good” and “man.”
As she checked her color and the neckline of her gown for modesty, she scowled at her reflection in the glass. He’d seen her at her absolute worst. What was the point in preening? Unless a flirtatious smile could dissuade him from ruining her.
How much more would he demand than that?
True, the Yankee hadn’t fallen easy prey to her charms, not like the majority of men she led by their libidos. He seemed singularly immune to her coquetry. That very difference made him dangerous, to her and to her secrets. If he couldn’t be manipulated by a few simpering sighs, how could she bend him to her will?
She was searching frantically for that answer when she followed the scent of good cigar out onto the front veranda. In the late afternoon, the smell didn’t have the same disastrous effect that it had that morning.
He was seated on one of the inviting wicker chaises cozied up into the shadow of the Glade’s cool white brick, feet propped up on a low bench before him. His gaze jumped to her immediately but he made no
Similar Books
