Prince Charming

Chapter 5

Promptness wasn't one of Taylor's attributes. Lucas waited for well over an hour for her to join him up on deck. He had plenty of time to think about the night before. Whatever had possessed him to get in bed with her? What weakness drove him to take her into his arms and hold her close? He didn't ever remember sleeping so soundly or so peacefully. It was galling. And damned confusing to him. He let out a sigh then. Thank God he awakened when he did. He remembered being sprawled on top of her sweet, warm, soft body and immediately forced himself to stop thinking about it. She hadn't awakened and that was all that mattered.

He wanted to get going. He ran out of patience and was just about to go down below and drag her off the ship when she came hurrying up the stairs.

She looked flustered, worried, and lovely. She wore a pale pink dress that had tiny white threads embroidered into rose buds along the high, square-necked bodice. The color of the gown complemented her skin, and Lucas thought she was probably the most feminine thing he'd ever seen.

He let out a sigh that sounded very like a growl of a bear and frowned at her.

She smiled back. She assumed her tardiness was the reason behind his irritation. She apologized for making him wait, all the while looking around the deck for Victoria. Her friend was nowhere to be found. Since most of the passengers had already left the ship, Taylor decided Victoria must be waiting for them wherever the luggage had been deposited. She'd already gone to Victoria's cabin to make certain she wasn't waiting for her there, but the cabin was empty.

"I'm very anxious to step on American ground," she remarked.

"Could have fooled me," he replied. He latched onto her arm and turned to leave.

The remark he'd just made was an obvious jab because she'd made him wait. Taylor ignored his sarcasm and turned her attention to the harbor.

At first glance, the city skyline reminded her of London, though on a larger scale. She noticed almost immediately one primary difference between the two cities, however. London always had a gray film looming over her buildings. The sky above Boston was pristine clean, or so it seemed to her.

Taylor didn't say another word to Lucas until they reached the luggage carts. She was so overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of her new homeland, she could barely form a coherent thought. She wanted to close her eyes and listen to all the vastly different accents and try to guess the name of the country each had come from. So many different foreign languages soon blended together, however, and she gave up her game. She tried then to look everywhere at once. There was so much to see and to explore, so much…

"Taylor, will you pay attention to what I'm telling you?"

She finally looked up at him. "Isn't it wonderful, Lucas?"

The wonder in her voice made him smile. "Boston?"

"America," she qualified.

He nodded. "You've yet to see America," he told her. "But you'll like living in Boston. It's very cosmopolitan," he added. "Very much like London."

"I already like Boston, but I don't want it to be anything like London."

After making that statement, she turned her attention to the chaos surrounding her. Lucas stared down at her for several minutes. When he realized what he was doing, he became disgusted with himself. He was acting like a besotted farm boy, but damn it all, it was her fault.

She was an enchantress all right. He was certain she was deliberately enticing him with that come-and-kiss-me smile of hers. The way she brushed her fingers through her hair and tossed her head back was a definite provocation meant to attract him. Even the way she looked up at him with those magical blue eyes and that trusting look on her face was meant to capture his full attention.

"Shouldn't we collect our luggage?"

Her question interrupted his thoughts. Lucas forced himself back to the business at hand.

"Stay right here," he ordered. "I'll be back in a minute."

Taylor only had enough time to nod before he walked away. She had the luggage tickets clutched in her hand. Lucas had secured reservations at the Hamilton House just outside of Boston proper, per Madam's explicit instructions. It was one of the best hotels in America, certainly on a par with the States Hotel, though on a smaller scale. Madam had read all the literature on both establishments and had declared that Hamilton House was a bit more exclusive. She told Lucas the States Hotel catered to too many businessmen, and she didn't want her granddaughter mingling with what she called the ordinary working man. Lucas didn't argue. He would deposit Taylor wherever her grandmother wanted her deposited, spend one or two more nights in the city, depending upon the bankers' meetings, and then head for home.

He returned to Taylor with a clerk from Hamilton House a few minutes later. He was in the nick of time. Taylor was in the process of handing over their luggage tickets to a man who had convinced her he was a representative of the hotel and would take care of the baggage.

Lucas snatched the tickets out of the thief's hands and sent him running. Taylor was appalled by what she deemed rude and certainly improper conduct. When she noticed the man Lucas handed the tickets to was wearing a hotel badge on his hat and the man she'd almost given her possessions to hadn't been wearing any such credentials, she became horrified by her own naivete.

"He would have stolen our luggage."

Lucas nodded. Taylor wasn't about to let the matter drop. She lifted the hem of her skirt and went running after the thief. Lucas grabbed her before she got lost in the crowd.

"Where in God's name do you think you're going?"

"To catch the scoundrel," she explained in a near shout. "Someone should alert the authorities."

Lucas let her see his exasperation. He anchored her to his side and turned toward the line of public vehicles.

"Aren't you going to do something?" she demanded.

"He's gone, Taylor. We'd never find him in this crowd."

"I remember his face," she boasted.

Lucas didn't laugh. She sounded so damned earnest. "What would you do if you caught up with him?"

She hadn't thought that far ahead. She considered the matter for a minute or two, then shrugged. "I would hold onto him while I shouted for assistance."

He rolled his eyes heavenward. She was beginning to see the folly in her plan but would go to her grave before admitting her foolishness.

"What would happen if he didn't stand there peacefully while you did your shouting, Taylor?"

"I suppose I'd have to pound him."

It was an empty boast, and they both knew it. "I think you should begin to think about consequences," Lucas remarked.

He was barely paying her any attention now. They reached the vehicles. He stopped to give their destination to the driver.

Taylor was trying to get him to unhand her. He finally noticed what she was doing when he turned to open the door to the conveyance for her.

"Get in."

"We can't leave just yet. I'm waiting for my friend. She's going to ride to the hotel with us. You'll have to be patient, Lucas. I was supposed to meet her by the luggage. Excuse me for one minute while I go look for her."

"You'll never find her in this crush."

"There she is," Taylor cried out. She called Victoria's name, but her friend didn't hear her. Taylor couldn't get Lucas to unhand her long enough to go after her friend, and so she gave the errand to him. "Do go and fetch Victoria." Lucas let go of her. He turned to look at the crowd. "Who is Victoria?"

He was talking to air. The second he unhanded her, she took off. Lucas muttered an expletive and went chasing after her. Because he was so much bigger than she was, he couldn't slip through the crowd as easily as she could. He resorted to shoving several men out of his path. He caught up with Taylor just as she came to a stop behind a red-headed woman. "Victoria, do turn around," Taylor requested. Her friend was obviously taken by surprise. She jumped a good foot and then whirled around. The relief on her face was pronounced, and there were tears in her eyes.

"Oh, I'm so happy to see you, Taylor. I thought you'd left me behind. I couldn't remember where we had agreed to meet," she added in a rush.

Victoria tried to hide her panic. In truth, she'd been terrified. She felt ill now. Her stomach was queasy, and she thought she was going to be sick. Dear God, she didn't know what she was going to do. She wanted to weep with relief because Taylor hadn't left her behind but knew such undignified behavior wouldn't be at all appropriate.

Taylor could see how distressed her friend was. She hurried to soothe her. "I also became confused about our meeting place," she said. "I thought we were supposed to meet on deck where the luggage was being stacked for transfer. It doesn't matter," she hastily added. "I would never have left you. Besides, if something had happened and we hadn't found each other, you knew the name of the hotel. You could have gotten there on your own."

Victoria nodded. She was too embarrassed to admit she didn't even have sufficient funds to pay the driver. She would have had to walk to Hamilton House. Still, Taylor was right. Victoria felt she was resourceful enough to find a way. She just wished she wasn't so emotional. The past week had been a test of endurance for her, what with all the changes in her life and her body, and she seemed to cry almost hourly.

"I'm not usually so emotional, milady," she announced.

And then she burst into tears. Taylor pulled a lacy handkerchief out of the cuff of her sleeve, handed it to Victoria, and then took hold of her hand. She turned to Lucas and quickly made the introductions.

"Victoria is a dear friend of mine," she informed him.

"Why is she crying?"

Taylor frowned at Lucas for bringing up the topic. Victoria was valiantly trying to control herself. "She's had a difficult time of it," she explained. "She's in mourning."

"I am?" Victoria asked in a whisper.

Taylor nodded. "Yes, you are."

She turned back to Lucas. "She's mourning the death of her beloved husband."

He didn't ask any questions. He knew very well who she was. He still remembered well every word the two women had exchanged the night Taylor had come to Victoria's assistance. He'd been about to haul the crazy woman down off that warped crate and ask her what the hell was the matter with her when Taylor intervened. And so he'd stayed in the shadows. He wasn't deliberately eavesdropping. He was simply making certain Taylor stayed safe. He was keeping his part of the bargain he'd made with her grandmother. Hearing that Victoria was pregnant and unmarried had struck a chord with him. He felt pity for her, of course, as well as a little compassion. She wasn't going to have an easy time of it. His own mother hadn't.

Lucas couldn't help but admire Taylor because she was looking out for the woman. "Are you going to help Victoria get settled in Boston?" he asked. "That is my intention," she answered. He smiled. She didn't know what to make of that reaction. And so she simply smiled back.

"Shouldn't we get going? All the vehicles will be taken up, sir."

He was in full agreement. He suddenly wanted to get to their destination, too. He grabbed hold of Taylor's left hand and Victoria's right hand and strode toward the vehicles. Victoria's flower-laden bonnet was in jeopardy of flying off her head, so fast was his pace. She put her left hand on top of her head to anchor her hat in place.

Taylor was trying not to trip on her skirt. "We aren't running from a fire, Mr. Ross," she called out.

He slowed down. He gave the driver their destination, then opened the door and turned to Victoria. "Has your luggage been sent on?"

"Taylor had my tickets," Victoria answered. She was talking to the ground. She kept her gaze downcast while she answered him. She was a timid thing, and he found himself wondering how in God's name she was going to survive with only Taylor looking after her. He decided he would take the bankers aside and have a talk with them. Since the trust fund they held in their bank was quite substantial and they were certainly making a nice, tidy profit from the investments, Lucas felt certain they would be happy to look out for Taylor and Victoria. Also, Taylor supposedly had relatives living in Boston. Surely one or two of her family members would watch out for his wife and her friend.

His wife. Lucas shook his head in amazement. If someone had told him six months ago that he would be married, he would have had a good laugh. Then he probably would have punched the prophet in his face for suggesting the blasphemy.

"We're ready, Mr. Ross."

Taylor nudged Lucas in his side to get him moving. She wanted to tell him to wipe that frown off his face as well. Like it or not, Victoria was going with them. Taylor assumed the irritation was due to the addition of another passenger. Lucas obviously didn't like to have his plans altered. She wondered how he was going to feel about having his future altered and immediately decided he wouldn't like that much either. She knew he'd be difficult; she prayed he wouldn't be impossible.

Lucas turned to Victoria and smiled at her. She felt it necessary to remove her bonnet before she got inside the carriage. He was being extremely patient with her friend, Taylor was quick to notice. He treated her like a piece of fine china that might shatter if he weren't careful. Why, he was ridiculously gentle assisting her inside the vehicle. He even held her bonnet for her while she adjusted her skirts just so. When she was settled to her satisfaction, Lucas finally turned to Taylor. He all but tossed her inside.

She wanted to sit next to her friend. Lucas had other ideas. By the time she'd straightened up in the seat he'd thrown her in, he was sitting beside her, squeezing her with his bulk into the corner. She couldn't go anywhere.

She gave him a good frown to let him know what she thought about his high-handed behavior, then realized she shouldn't have bothered. Lucas wasn't paying any attention to her. He was staring out the window, lost in thought.

Victoria drew her attention. "Look, Taylor. There's Morrison's Coffee House. We have one just like it in London." Her voice was laced with excitement. "And there's Tyler's Bootery. Why, he's famous in England."

Taylor leaned forward to look out the window. "There seem to be many English stores here," she remarked. "It's disappointing, isn't it?"

"Why is it disappointing?" Lucas asked, drawn into the conversation by Taylor's odd remark.

She didn't want to tell him the truth, that she didn't want anything in America to remind her of England. He wouldn't understand. She gave him a half answer. "I just want everything to be different."

"Oh, most of the shops are different," Victoria announced. "It's going to take some getting used to, isn't it? America seems so grand."

Taylor nodded. She tried to pay attention to what Victoria was saying, but her mind kept wandering. Excitement was quick to build inside her. She could barely sit still in her seat. Her thoughts were on the babies. They were here… in this wonderful city, and just as soon as her business was concluded with the bankers and Lucas was on his way back to Redemption, she would go and collect the twins and their nanny, dear Mrs. Bartlesmith. They would all have to spend at least a week in Boston while Taylor hired the help she would need and bought whatever clothes the little ones needed for the coming season.

She wished she could see her nieces now. If she were clever, Lucas would never know she'd left. Just for an hour, she told herself. She would hire a vehicle and be back at the hotel before she was even missed.

Mrs. Bartlesmith would be happy for the company. Taylor would explain her plans and offer to hire someone to help with the packing. In her excitement, she reached over and grabbed hold of Lucas's hand.

He was startled by the show of affection. He saw the look of joy on her face and found himself smiling over her enthusiasm.

"Boston certainly appeals to you," he remarked.

"It appears to be quite nice."

She didn't sound overly enthusiastic about the city. Yet her expression told him she was excited about something. He was curious to find out what it was. Then he decided she was probably thinking about the coming reunion with her relatives and her friends, and perhaps she was considering where she was going to live. She would probably choose the Hill, where all the rich and influential resided. She'd fit right in. She'd like it, too. Lucas was sure of it.

Victoria kept up a steady stream of comments about the city. Taylor occasionally nodded, but it soon became evident she was preoccupied.

Lucas finally nudged her to get her attention. "Tell me what you're thinking about."

"My relatives," she answered.

He smiled. "I thought so."

"And…"

"Yes?"

She let out a sigh. "I was also thinking about the greater good."

He didn't understand what she meant. Neither did Victoria. "Is Boston the greater good?" her friend asked.

Taylor shook her head. She started to say something more, but her attention was turned then, for she suddenly realized she was holding onto Lucas's hand. She immediately let go.

"Pray forgive me for being forward," she said. He shook his head in exasperation. She turned to look out the window again before he could respond to the ridiculous apology. Victoria looked astonished by Taylor's comment. She stared at her friend for a long minute, obviously waiting for her to say something, and when Taylor remained silent, she turned her attention to Lucas. He thought about giving her some sort of explanation, then changed his mind. "The sun's going down."

Taylor made the announcement. She sounded disheartened. "It will be dark in another half hour," Lucas guessed. "Does that bother you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I wanted to go and see my relatives," she explained. "I'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"People do go out at night," Lucas said.

"They'll be asleep."

Taylor didn't elaborate. She turned back to look out the window. Lucas assumed the relatives in question were old and feeble. Who else would go to bed so early in the evening.

Victoria's attention went back and forth between Lucas and Taylor. She wanted to ask why they were both acting so formal with each other. She supposed that wouldn't be very polite, however, and finally let the matter drop. They rode the rest of the way in silence and arrived at their destination a few minutes later.

At first glance, the Hamilton House was a severe disappointment. While Lucas paid the driver, Victoria and Taylor stood on the sidewalk and stared up at the huge, gray granite building. Victoria whispered it looked quite dreary. Taylor was more emphatic. She declared it was as ugly as sin.

For some reason, Lucas found her opinion amusing. He told her to lower her voice, but he gave the order with a grin. She didn't know what to make of that. She noticed he was once again being very solicitous toward Victoria. She wasn't jealous, however. She was pleased. Lucas was proving he could be a gentleman when he put his mind to the chore.

Victoria was taking forever to put on her bonnet. It took her three attempts to tie the satin strings into a perfect bow. Taylor wanted to take over the task for her, so impatient was she to get moving. Lucas acted as though he had all the time in the world. He simply stood there with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for Victoria to finish. Then he offered his arm to her. Victoria took hold and smiled sweetly up at him.

They left her standing on the sidewalk. She followed the pair inside. Since Lucas was watching out for Victoria, Taylor felt free to explore the ground floor. It was filled with retail shops, and in the very center of the area was another set of double doors leading to the hotel's reception area. There was a large crowd of men smoking in front of the entrance. Most were dressed in business suits, though there were a few garbed in buckskin jackets. Several of the men openly gawked at her in a way that made Taylor feel decidedly uneasy. She held her head high as she hurried through the entrance the doorman held open for her.

Lucas suddenly seemed to remember he had a wife. He turned, grabbed hold of her hand, and pulled her close to his side. She didn't understand what had come over him. One minute he was smiling down at Victoria and the next he was frowning at everyone who looked their way. Victoria seemed to understand, if her smile was any indication, and Taylor thought her friend might actually burst into laughter so amusing did she seem to find Lucas's conduct.

Taylor decided to ignore her husband until he got over his sour mood. Both she and Victoria changed their opinion of the hotel. The owners had obviously decided to spend their money on the inside. It was, as Taylor whispered to her friend, grand. The floor was black and white marble squares, and circling the gigantic foyer were magnificent white pillars.

Everything was sparkling clean. The lounges in the spacious hall were covered with buffalo skins. Taylor wanted to go across the room and touch one.

Victoria drew her attention with her remark. "Do you notice there aren't any ladies here?" she whispered.

"I did notice," Taylor replied. "There's a separate entrance for ladies traveling alone," Lucas explained. "But since you're with me, it's all right for you to be here. Wait by the luggage while I sign in and get a room for Victoria."

Lucas underscored his order by adding what he obviously considered a meaningful frown at Taylor and then walked away.

The luggage was easy to spot. It was a pyramid of baggage really and stacked in the center of the hall. Taylor was a bit overwhelmed by the chaos surrounding her. There were at least two hundred gentlemen coming and going, more reading the daily papers on the settees, and large groups of men standing around talking to one another. The noise made conversation difficult.

Victoria had to ask Taylor her question twice before she heard her. "What if all the rooms are full?"

"Then you'll stay with me."

"But what about your husband?"

"Oh, I'm certain he'll get his own room."

"But you're married."

"Yes," Taylor agreed. She patted Victoria's hand. "In your delicate condition, you shouldn't be worrying about inconsequential matters. I think you should sit down. You look weary to me. Let's try out the buffalo lounges."

Victoria nodded agreement. She pinched her cheeks for color, hoping to hide her fatigue, and followed Taylor over to an empty lounge.

The two women sat side by side. Taylor stroked the animal skin with her fingertips and smiled at her friend. "We can now boast that we sat on a buffalo."

Victoria gave her a weak smile. She folded her hands in her lap and stared down at the floor.

"You're worrying, aren't you?"

"Yes," Victoria admitted. "I'm thinking you shouldn't have told your husband I was married. If we keep to the lie, I'm bound to run into people I know in Boston who have moved here from London…"

She didn't go on. Taylor immediately felt guilty. "I shouldn't have made up the lie, and I apologize for putting you in an awkward position. If I tell you something, do you promise not to say a word in front of Mr. Ross?"

"Yes."

"I don't have any intention of living in Boston. You don't have to stay here either, Victoria. There are at least a dozen other cities to consider."

Victoria's eyes widened. "But I heard your husband mention…"

"Oh, he thinks I'm staying in Boston, and it's best he doesn't know the truth just yet."

"I don't understand. Won't he notice if you leave?"

"It's complicated," Taylor told her. "Tomorrow morning, after you've had a good night's rest, we'll sit down and have a long talk. It's going to be all right. I promise you. Heavens, I'm so excited to be in Boston, I can barely sit still."

A beautiful marble statue of a Greek warrior holding a disc caught her eye. It was at least nine feet tall. Taylor stood up, told Victoria she would be right back, and then crossed the hall to have a closer look.

One gentleman after another tried to catch her attention by calling out a greeting. Taylor ignored the men, yet by the time she reached the impressive statue, she found herself surrounded by strangers wishing to engage her in conversation.

They were all Americans, and for that reason alone, Taylor found it impossible to maintain her haughty facade. She was smiling in no time at all. The Americans were very open and friendly, just as she'd read they would be. One gentleman said howdy to her instead of hello and with the most wonderful accent she'd ever heard. She was enchanted. She soon forgot all about proper etiquette. She introduced herself, explained she had just arrived from London, England, and then asked each man to tell her where he lived. Everyone tried to answer her at once. One, she learned, lived in the heart of Boston and was at the hotel for a business meeting. He sounded as though he were pinching his nose shut when he spoke. Another gentleman resided in the valley of Ohio, two were from Missouri, and three, cousins she discovered, lived in the state of Texas. Their accents were outrageously divine.

A spirited conversation ensued. Each man was trying to outdo the others with tall tales about his home. Taylor was having trouble controlling her laughter. They were such delightful, good-hearted men. They were proud of their homeland and obviously wanted her to love America as much as they did.

She wanted Victoria to meet her new friends and was about to suggest they follow her across the hall when the attitude of the group suddenly changed. They were laughing and jesting one minute and looking as though they'd lost their best friend the next. Several were frowning enough to make her think they were extremely worried about something. The men standing directly in front of her weren't looking at her any longer. They were intently staring at something above her head. The gentleman from Boston, she noticed, was even backing away.

The silence was heavy with expectation. Taylor had a feeling she knew what, or rather who, had caused the radical change in the men's behavior. She slowly turned around to find out if her guess proved accurate.

She was right on target. Lucas was standing directly behind her. She'd half-expected him to be there. The expression on his face was a surprise, however. It was frightening enough to make an ordinary woman's hair stand on end. Lord, he was intimidating. No wonder the gentlemen weren't laughing any longer. Lucas was looking as though he wanted to shoot a couple of them.

Why, he even made her feel a bit nervous. She certainly wasn't intimidated or afraid, she hastily reminded herself, just… nervous. She decided to catch the cat by his tail. She knew he was irritated because he'd had to look for her in the crowd, and so she simply turned the table around on him.

She folded her hands together, plastered a smile on her face, and then said, "Here you are at last, Mr. Ross. I've been waiting to introduce you to my new friends."

He wasn't going to let her get away with her clever ploy. He shook his head at her. "Taylor, I specifically remember telling you to wait by the luggage. If…" She wasn't going to listen to a lecture. She broke his concentration by simply reaching out and taking hold of his hand. She turned around to face their audience then so that she could introduce her husband, but the eldest of the Texans spoke before she could.

"This little filly belong to you?" He directed his inquiry to Lucas and in such a slow drawl it seemed to take him a full minute to get the question finished.

Taylor wasn't certain if she should be insulted or not. She opened her mouth to ask the Texan if women were often referred to as horses in America, but she never got the question out. Lucas put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed.

The message was distinct. She was supposed to keep quiet. Taylor decided to act subservient for the time being. God help Lucas Ross when they were alone. She would give him a piece of her mind then, she thought to herself, for being so high-handed in public. She pictured herself giving him a sound kick, and even though she knew she'd never do such an unladylike thing, the fantasy still made her smile.

"She's my wife." Lucas made the announcement with a good deal of possessiveness in his voice. Odd, but he didn't grimace when he said the word wife. In truth, it sounded almost pleasant to him. Almost.

"She ain't wearing a ring." Another Texan made that remark and was staring at Taylor suspiciously. He was acting as though Lucas and she were trying to play some clever trick on him. His attitude didn't make a bit of sense to Taylor.

"Ring or not, she's still Mrs. Ross," Lucas said.

"Ross? Well now, she didn't call herself Ross," the first Texan pointed out.

Taylor's eyes widened. She almost laughed over her own error. "I forgot," she blurted out. "We are newly married," she hastily added.

They didn't look like they believed her. She let out a sigh, shrugged away from Lucas, and then moved to his side. She kept her gaze on her audience.

"Gentlemen, I would like you to meet my husband, Mr. Lucas Ross."

What happened next so surprised Taylor, she couldn't hide her astonishment. The eldest of the Texans squinted at Lucas and then whispered in what could only be interpreted as awe, "The Lucas Ross from Montana Territory?"

Lucas gave a quick nod. Then he started to back away. Taylor looked up and saw his expression had changed dramatically. He looked wary now and horribly uncomfortable. She was intrigued by the change in him. She felt the sudden need to save him, yet couldn't imagine what exactly she was saving him from.

"The Lucas Ross?" The gentleman from the valley in Ohio asked the question in a stammer of disbelief.

Lucas sighed. "Yes."

Taylor didn't think grown men were given to gasping, but these men did. She was all but forgotten from that moment on. The men surged forward. She got out of their way in the nick of time, for she would surely have been flattened against the statue by the eager crowd if she hadn't moved quickly. The men surrounded Lucas on all sides. Everyone was talking at once. They wanted to shake his hand and pound him on his back.

The Texans were the most effusive in their admiration. "If that don't beat all," the eldest of the cousins kept repeating.

Word that Lucas Ross was in the lobby of the

Hamilton House spread like free whiskey, and within minutes, most of the gentlemen inside the lobby had joined the group of adoring fans. They all wanted to meet the legend.

Taylor was flabbergasted. She heard the words hero and legend over and over again, and because the gentleman from Boston mentioned the war when he gave his praise, she naturally assumed Lucas had won his reputation during the time of the dispute between the North and the South. She was familiar with both the cause and the outcome of the war, of course. She'd read everything she could get her hands on about the division of the country. Odd, she didn't remember reading anything about Lucas Ross.

Taylor stood there watching Lucas and his enthusiastic admirers for a good fifteen minutes. Her husband was easy to keep track of, as he was the tallest man in the lobby. He was keeping his eye on her as well, she noticed, for every now and then he would glance over to make certain she was still there.

He didn't look very happy about all the attention he was receiving. He didn't like anyone standing behind his back either. Taylor came to that conclusion when she noticed how he slowly negotiated his way over to stand directly in front of the marble statue. He seemed determined to protect his back, just like all the famous gunfighters liked to do, or so Taylor had read in one of her countless dime novels.

One thought jumped to another. Good God, was Lucas a gunfighter? Is that how he gained his reputation? Taylor discarded the notion the second it popped into her mind. No, of course he wasn't. He was temperamental and surly natured, but he wasn't a killer. Taylor's conclusions weren't based solely on instinct. Madam had done a thorough investigation into Lucas's background, and although she hadn't had the time or the inclination to share the information she'd gathered with her granddaughter, Taylor knew in her heart that her grandmother would never have insisted she marry the man if he hadn't proven to be honorable and courageous and noble.

There was also the undisputed fact that all gunfighters went looking for trouble. The stories she'd read about Ornery Eddie of Wolkum Junction had confirmed that truth. Eddie always wanted to fight. According to the tales, the gunfighter prided himself on the fact that he would always shoot someone dead within ten minutes after arriving in a new town. Oh, yes, gunfighters went looking for trouble. Ornery Eddie was just one example of that rule, but there were at least a hundred others written down in the dime novels.

Lucas was the complete opposite in attitude. He wanted solitude and wide-open spaces. She remembered he'd been quite specific when he told her he no longer liked living in Redemption because the two-block-wide town was becoming too crowded. He hated being penned in.

He apparently hated crowds, too. His expression told her so. The look he was now giving her indicated he somehow held her responsible for making him the center of attention.

She didn't want to accept the blame. She hadn't had anything to do with making him a legend. No, of course she hadn't. If the man had bothered to mention he was such a celebrity, she wouldn't have introduced him.

His discomfort was all his own fault. She still felt guilty. She was going to have to save him anyway. She let out a sigh, then nudged her way through the throng of men. When she reached Lucas, she took hold of his hand. In a rather loud voice, she announced that they were going to be late for an important meeting if they didn't leave immediately.

"You shouldn't be going to meetings on your honeymoon," one of the Texans declared in his slow drawl.

"They're newly married?" A gentleman she hadn't met before asked the question.

Someone in the crowd shouted, "If that don't beat all." Because Taylor had already heard that colorful, but illogical remark before, she assumed it was some sort of popular American slang. She filed the saying away for future use.

"He got himself hitched all right," another said.

A round of hearty congratulations followed the confirmation. There was more pounding on Lucas's back, though one eager gentleman's aim was off and he accidentally whacked Taylor squarely between her shoulder blades. She was kept from being thrown forward by her husband. He tightened his hold on her, frowned at the offender, and started to edge his way through the crowd.

The men finally let them alone. Lucas had dragged Taylor halfway across the lobby before she protested. "You may lessen your hold on me, sir, and do quit frowning. People will think we aren't happily married."

Lucas ignored both suggestions. Taylor looked up at him and matched his frown. She decided to give exactly what she was getting. "You're a very moody individual," she announced in a low whisper so her criticism wouldn't be overheard.

"I didn't used to be," he responded.

"Do you mean to say you used to be pleasant?"

"Yes."

She almost snorted with disbelief but stopped herself in time. "When?" she asked.

"When I wasn't married."

She tried not to take offense. "You're blaming me for the chaos back there, aren't you?" She didn't give him time to answer. "I wouldn't have introduced you to those gentlemen if you'd told me you were such a popular fellow."

"Why were you talking to them?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

He let out a sigh. "Taylor, didn't your grandmother tell you it's dangerous to talk to strangers?"

He asked the question in a low growl. "I was perfectly safe," she announced. "No one would dare accost me in the middle of the hotel lobby."

"Oh? And why is that?"

He was fully prepared to hear her answer, then give her a good lecture on her naivete. Hell, the lobby was so crowded, anyone could have grabbed hold of her and dragged her outside without being noticed. Didn't she know about the dangers inherent in the cities? Obviously not, he thought. Well, by God, he would make her understand.

Taylor was staring up at him with that wide-eyed, innocent stare. He wanted to shake some sense into her. He decided to scare her instead.

"Explain why no one would dare accost you," he ordered in a voice he thought sounded downright mean.

She stared him right in the eye when she gave him her answer. "You wouldn't let them."

The bluster went right out of him. Her answer, given so quickly and in such a matter-of-fact tone of voice, sliced right through his frustration and reached his heart. He was at a loss for words. The compliment shocked him. She was too trusting, he thought, and how could she have such faith in him? It was downright humbling.

"You're right I wouldn't let anyone touch you," he heard himself mutter.

She smiled. He glared. Lucas suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her.

Her next remark changed his inclination. "I happen to know for a fact that a woman can travel alone throughout this magnificent country and never have the fear she'll be bothered by a stranger."

He was back to wanting to shake some sense into her. "Taylor…" he began as a prelude to his lecture addressing her ridiculous opinions.

"I read it in a book, so it has to be true. Mrs. Livingston's journal of her travels through America was quite informative. She was never accosted."

"Was she old and wrinkled?"

"What difference does that make?"

He stared down into those incredible blue eyes for a long minute. "It makes a big difference," he snapped.

She decided to end the discussion by having the last word. "Please quit worrying. I assure you I will not be accosted by strangers."

"What about husbands?"