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11th Hour Rose (Langston Brothers Series) Page 6


  “Do you still see them from time to time?”

  “Not for several years. They were staunch Union supporters, and did not approve of my decision to resign my commission.”

  Lilly knew all too well how bitter the rift must have been between Davy and his in-laws, and if they blamed him for Laura’s death as well… She squeezed his hand in friendly reassurance. “You mustn’t let their blame affect you so. All women know the risks of childbirth and choose to endure it anyway. Gladly so. You cannot blame yourself for circumstances beyond your control. I’m certain the last thing Laura would want is for you to blame yourself for her death.”

  “No she wouldn’t,” he said slowly. “But then she wasn’t the type to blame anyone for anything.”

  “I’m sure she was lovely.”

  “She was. Beautiful and sweet. She rarely spoke a cross word.” Davy flashed Lilly a crooked half smile. “She was certainly nothing like you. You are… feisty.”

  Lilly flushed but chose not to take his words as an insult. His gaze remained companionable and steady with a little twinkle relighting his eye. She glanced away, her stomach giving a little flutter. “Few women are.”

  Davy laughed then, the sound light despite their heavy conversation.

  Lilly gazed down at their entwined hands resting comfortably on her brown skirt. Comfortable. She was comfortable with David Langston, surprisingly so. When exactly had that happened?

  “Are you going to the festival dance tonight?” His question interrupted her thoughts.

  “Yes.” She made a face. “I spent seven hours baking pies yesterday, I will be there to eat some of them.”

  “Good.” Without warning he leaned forward, completely invading her space, and reached around her with his free hand to snare his hat. Her heart jumped into her throat. She could feel the heat emanating from his chest and when he inhaled the broad expanse nearly touched her. Rather than pull back he let his free palm rest in the grass, his handsome face mere inches from hers, his arm and shoulder cris-crossed over hers. Lilly gulped. He was interested in her. She’d never known him to take a vested interest in any woman. Davy gazed down at her, expression soft and oh so boyishly innocent her insides turned to mush.

  “I… Of course,” she whispered, the response entirely too breathless for her liking. Oh, dear… I’m in trouble.

  11th Hour Rose

  Six

  Despite the roiling undercurrents of the city, the outdoor festival dance had a significant turnout. People had donned their best for the party and many couples danced merrily to the music or enjoyed punch and pies. In one corner several children laughed and played. Colorful bunches of Indian corn adorned every table, and fresh squash and pumpkins lined the dance floor. Brightly colored ribbons hung beneath the lanterns. Even sunflowers stood around the pavilion as though waiting for dance partners of their own.

  Lilly found herself humming to the music, caught up in the cheerful atmosphere, and more than a little nervous. She’d taken special care with her appearance tonight, wearing her hair only half back in a braid that wrapped over the top of her head and leaving manicured curls to tumble along her back and shoulders. Lavinia had assisted, weaving a pale green ribbon through the braid to accentuate Lilly’s eyes. Lavinia had also insisted on loaning Lilly a gown. Made of pretty calico, a modest ruffle splashed along the bodice and sleeves that sat low and off the shoulders. Lilly smoothed a hand over the full skirt, more than a little self-conscious in the revealing dress.

  David Langston wants to dance with me.

  Excitement blossomed in her breast though she tried desperately not to dwell overly much on the fact. In truth he may not even come tonight. An hour ago she’d learned that he’d received a wire from the U.S. Marshal’s office in Washington regarding a Massachusetts murder very similar to the cases in Charleston. It was entirely possible he’d follow up on the lead and skip the dance altogether.

  Even so, Lilly found herself scanning the crowd for him. Davy would be difficult to miss towering over most men in Charleston, and if he came would he seek her out?

  “Good evening, Miss Lilly,” a male voice rumbled from behind her. “Would you care to dance?”

  “Oh!” Lilly startled and shied away from her thoughts of Davy. “Mr. Brady.”

  “In the flesh.” Marcus Brady flashed the irresistible grin that nearly every woman in Charleston was a-gawk over. Lilly found it a little disconcerting that her heart that fluttered when Davy smiled at her, but did nothing in response to Marcus.

  She smiled in return. “I’d love to dance, Mr. Brady.” It would certainly distract her from waiting for David—who may not even come—though he would be furious with her for ignoring his warning about staying away from Marcus. A trickle of unease slithered down her spine as she took Mr. Brady’s hand. Could he be responsible for the brutal murders? She glanced up into his eyes. Kind eyes. Good humored eyes. Surely not… What a silly unfounded notion on Davy’s part. Perhaps he’d been jealous to find her in the company of another man.

  Lilly allowed Marcus to lead her onto the dance floor, easily following him through the first few steps of a waltz. “You’re a very accomplished dancer, Mr. Brady.”

  “Surprised?”

  Lilly felt her cheeks grow hot, Marcus walked with a noticeable limp. “No, not at all. I mean—”

  “It’s all right,” he winked. “I find the limp rather dashing don’t you?”

  With a laugh she inclined her head. “Very much so. Did it happen in the war?”

  “Sadly, the cause of my injury is not as dashing as a war wound. I was thrown from a horse when I was ten years old.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said automatically.

  “Yes, well, after twenty years I’ve learned to live with it. During the war I was passed over for military service and instead became a reporter.”

  “How fascinating.”

  “I felt I was doing my part, but other men did much more,” he replied solemnly.

  Lilly nodded.

  After a moment’s pause Marcus continued, “Reporting is actually what I’d wished to speak with you about earlier today.”

  “Oh?” Confused, Lilly met his gaze, interest piqued.

  “I understand you have some legal education.”

  “I do, yes.”

  “Have you ever considered writing a column for the newspaper?”

  Genuine surprise filled Lilly. “Well, no. I mean… I… What would I write about?”

  Lilly never heard the answer. Across the pavilion her eyes locked with David’s. She gulped. She was in trouble, and not metaphorically. Fury gilded every line of his handsome face.

  * * *

  “I don’t believe this,” David muttered, eyes riveted on Lilly twirling in the arms of Marcus Brady as though she had not a care in the damn world. Well, he would give her something to care about. Without another thought he strode purposefully across the dance floor, not caring who he disrupted or who might see.

  “Sorry, Brady, cutting in.” David grabbed Lilly’s arm just above the elbow and slipped the other about her slim waist, nimbly sweeping her away from the other man’s embrace and into his own.

  Lilly gasped, obviously surprised by the sudden switch and stumbled against his chest.

  Davy smirked at an equally stunned Marcus—still standing with his arms up as though holding a woman—then glanced down to Lilly. “I believe this dance is mine.” He half carried her a few feet away, trapping her within the fold of his arms for the dance.

  “David, let me go.” She struggled against his hold. “You are behaving like a brute.”

  He held her fast. “Dance with me,” he commanded, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  “David—”

  “I’m not releasing you. Dance.”

  She skewered him with a mutinous glare.

  For whatever reason her expression did not further irritate him, but struck him as damnably adorable. He bit back the sudden urge to grin. “Lilly, please,” he cajo
led, switching tactics, softening his grasp slightly on her arms. “Dance with me. You are the only reason I came here tonight.”

  “Do you expect me to believe that?”

  He shrugged. “Believe what you wish, but it’s the truth.”

  After another moment of futile tussle she sighed and finally complied, resting a hand unenthusiastically on his shoulder. Davy further relaxed his grip on her, spreading a palm across her lower back. Together they shuffled awkwardly to the music. He ignored the interested stares cast their way by other couples and bystanders alike.

  One-two-three. One-two-three. Davy kept silent count in his head for the first few turns. He hadn’t danced in years.

  “Ouch!” Lilly jerked her left foot back.

  “Sorry,” Davy mumbled, concentrating less on the waltz tempo and more on avoiding her toes.

  “You’re a terrible dancer,” Lilly observed, scooting back a bit in his arms.

  Davy took a long step inward, pulling her sweet little frame right back in. “Never claimed to be anything but.” He curled her in nearer still, holding her much closer than he ought. She inhaled sharply, gaze snapping up to his, but did not attempt to pull away, and the intimate stance helped them settle into a more natural flow of steps. “I warned you to stay away from Brady,” he said sternly.

  Lilly rolled her eyes. “Because he may be a voracious killer? Don’t be absurd. He was hardly attempting to seduce me or lure me into a darkened alley.”

  “Seduction is not always obvious, Lilly. I happen to know something of men and their intentions.”

  “Oh?” Cool eyes flicked back to his. “And you deemed his intentions toward me to be less than honorable?”

  “Yes.”

  “Really?” Lilly scoffed, sarcasm thick in her tone. “You don’t even know what we were discussing.”

  “I don’t need to.”

  “Then what did Mr. Brady do to so offend you? Aside from politely ask me to dance?” Her eyes flashed pure fire against his, challenging him as few others dared.

  “Damn it, Lilly, must you fight me in everything?” Their gazes locked and his anger faltered. He drew in a slow breath, gaze traveling from her iridescent eyes down the soft curve of her cheek and throat, across her slender bared shoulders. A fat curl slid down her neck and rested against the milky skin exposed above her bodice. “All I want is to protect you. Why can’t you see that?”

  In a flash, the irritation melted from Lilly’s features. She softened in his arms, swaying into him fully. The ruffle over her breasts breezed against his chest and a hint of perfume wafted up from her hair. “You wish to protect me?”

  Davy swallowed, suddenly disconcerted, his vision simultaneously clear and clouded. He could point out that it was his civic duty to worry over everyone, but, the truth was, he did worry over her, more so than anyone else, and it seemed a rather recent development. He gazed down into her wide, curious eyes and slid his fingers ever so slightly up her back, tracing the trail of buttons lining her spine. The sense of being completely at home settled over him once again. The sensation terrified him, and yet he could not tear himself away.

  She reminded him of autumn with hair the color of fall kissed leaves or golden apple butter. Her cheeks held the perfect hint of wind kissed pink even when there was no wind and her eyes… her eyes were like sparkling diamonds. His gaze dropped to the sensual curve of her mouth, round and red like an apple. Would she taste as crisply sweet? “Lilly,” he whispered, shifting closer, linking his elbow around her waist, pulling her against him. They scarcely shuffled to the music any longer. In that moment he wanted to discern once and for all just how this feisty woman would taste. “I—”

  “Excuse me, Marshal, but I think I’ll cut back in now.” Marcus stepped swiftly behind them, slinging an arm about Lilly’s waist attempting to yank her out of David’s arms.

  “Oh!” Lilly cried out in surprise, eyes wide.

  Davy tightened his hold on Lilly, folding her into his left side, angling her away from Marcus. “Stand down, Brady.”

  The other man’s eyes flashed possessively and Davy’s suspicion that something about Marcus was not right flared to new heights.

  Brady looked to Lilly, his expression disbelieving. “Are you going to tolerate this treatment?”

  For once Lilly did not immediately respond. She remained absolutely still at Davy’s side, fingers curling into his arm. Had she seen the gleam in Brady’s eyes as well?

  “Davy, do you need a hand?”

  David slid a quick glance to the right. His younger brothers Craig and Jacob stood side by side, creating an intimidating wall.

  Brady’s eyes narrowed, and he clenched his fists at his side. “You Rebs are all crazy. Ask a girl to dance and the whole Confederate Army rises up.”

  “Now see here, Brady!” Davy relinquished his hold on Lilly, striding forward with his brothers, fist balled and half-cocked. “You can either—”

  “Stop!” Lilly rushed between the men, arms held out, cheeks stained with embarrassment. The music whined to a halt and everyone in the crowded pavilion stared at the unfolding scene. “Stop this right now.” She backed away a few steps before whirling and marching off the dance floor. “Go back to dancing,” she called to the crowd. “There is nothing to see here.”

  Brady moved as though to follow her, but David stepped swiftly into his path, gaze narrow and unwavering. “Stay away from her,” Davy warned.

  Brady scowled, wrenching a mutinous glare from Davy to Craig and Jacob before he finally turned and stalked away.

  A low buzz hummed through the crowd. David ignored the attention, striding off the dance floor in the general direction Lilly had vacated. His brothers followed closely as a fiddle once more began to hum the waltz.

  “Sweet on the sheriff’s daughter,” Jacob quipped, clapping him on the shoulder. “What does old George have to say about that?”

  “Nothing.” Davy shrugged off Jacob’s hand. “There is nothing for the sheriff to comment on.”

  Jacob and Craig exchanged a disbelieving glance before roaring simultaneously with laughter. “Your near fisticuffs a moment ago would speak to the contrary.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Davy grumbled, tilting his hat further down his forehead.”

  “Oh, I think I do,” Craig replied jovially. “Truly though I am glad to see you taking an interest in the fairer sex.”

  “About damn time,” Jacob interjected, grinning from ear to ear.

  Davy ground his teeth, resisting the urge to slam a fist into his youngest brother’s mouth. “It’s really not what you think. And even if it was it doesn’t matter.”

  “Oh?”

  “My transfer request within the Marshal’s office has been approved. I’m going west.”

  Craig and Jacob fell instantly silent, all good humor draining from their faces.

  “With the railroad going through there is an increased need for Indian agents.” Davy shrugged, unsure what else to say. “It’s no different than when I went off to West Point, we all knew I’d be stationed away from home.”

  “I suppose.” Jacob sighed heavily, raking a hand through his blond hair. “That seems like a long time ago…” His voice trailed off. He lifted his gaze to Davy. “Pa isn’t going to like this.”

  Davy shrugged. “He doesn’t like anything that doesn’t involve us falling into his line.”

  “This is what you want?” Craig asked quietly. Only a year apart in age, Davy and Craig had always been close.

  “It is.”

  Craig nodded curtly though he did not look pleased. “Then I wish you luck. When do you leave?”

  “I’m not certain. Probably in a few weeks.” Davy would like to get the mess with the murders solved before taking up his new post.

  “Well, I know exactly when I’m leaving and where I’m going,” Jacob said, his tone considerably more upbeat and a mischievous twinkle lighting his eye. “There is a card game at Schooners and a red
head just waiting for me.”

  “Jesus,” Craig muttered. “You still haven’t paid me back for the last time you played cards.”

  “Which is why I need to play tonight. Recoup my losses.” Jacob glanced up to David. “Care to join me, Davy?”

  “I’d rather pluck off my own fingernails than piss my money away on cards. If you want my advice—”

  “I don’t.”

  “—walk past the card table and go straight upstairs with the redhead.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement.” Jacob tipped his hat and strode away with a grin. More than a few wistful young ladies gazed after him, no doubt hoping he’d change his mind and ask them for a dance. Not likely. Jacob was far more interested in drinking, cards, and women that didn’t require more attachment that an hour’s worth of coin.

  Craig shook his head. “I’d go along to keep him out of trouble, but Marissa will have my head if I go into Schooners.”

  Davy chuckled. “I heard what happened the night before your wedding.”

  Craig paled. Even five years later the young doctor was loathe to speak of the events surrounding his nuptials. Needless to say, it was understandable why his wife expected him to avoid the saloon.

  “Don’t worry,” Davy quickly shifted topics, “I’ll swing in later to make sure Jake doesn’t get himself shot.”

  Craig nodded. “Probably wise.” His gaze shifted out over the dance floor, and he raised a hand in greeting. “Speaking of wives, mine is summoning me.”

  Davy watched as his brother crossed the pavilion to join his wife. The band ended one lively tune and smoothly transitioned into a sweet waltz. Craig lovingly kissed Marissa’s brow and twirled her into his arms for a dance. She in turn beamed up at him with all the joy of a newlywed.

  The sight struck a chord so deeply buried within Davy’s soul he could not readily identify it, but it was not an unpleasant chord, it was… nice. Good. Right… And when he closed his eyes Lilly’s face glowed within his mind’s eye.

  He snapped his eyes open. Hell. What did that mean? Nothing good of that he was certain. Davy wiped a palm over his face. Perhaps he would join Jacob at Schooner’s after all. He turned crisply on a heel and stopped dead in his tracks.