The Fur Trader’s Lady (Ladies of the Wilderness #1)

20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

T he wind was now howling around the eaves of the row house, blowing the rain against the side of the building. Reid stood by the fireplace, waiting for Charlotte to emerge after changing out of the dress and into her suit again.

Every one of his muscles still thrummed from their encounter, and he had to force himself to cool his thoughts. It had been one thing to imagine what Charlotte looked like dressed as a woman—but now that he had a clear picture in his mind, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to get it out of his head again.

The encounter had almost made him forget about his experience at Lachlan’s post and then his visit with Curly Head. He’d told the chief he would serve alcohol to those who traded with him, but he hated that he’d been forced to make the offer.

The door to the hallway creaked open, and Charlotte stepped into the room, fully clothed like a clerk.

It didn’t matter. In his mind’s eye, she was still in that gown, with no corset, her hair kissing her shoulders.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving today?” she asked.

It wasn’t what he thought she would say after what had just happened—but it was safe.

“I dinna want you to try to stop me.”

Charlotte walked over to the fireplace and stretched out her hands.

He did the same, standing close at her side. His head told him to keep distance between them, but his heart would not obey.

As they stood side by side, he couldn’t help but think about Stephen and Rutherford, wondering when they might reach the post—and who would arrive first. If it was Stephen, he and Charlotte would have to leave immediately and go to Fond du Lac. If it was Rutherford, Reid would have to do everything possible to keep her hidden from him. He’d already spoken to several of his trusted men who were keeping an eye on the fort gate for the arrival of an Englishman. He wouldn’t be hard to spot, since there were so few in the district.

Even with those safeguards in place, he still didn’t want to let her out of his sight. Hopefully today would be the last time he’d have to leave her side until he could hand her off to Stephen.

But the thought of placing her in Stephen’s care didn’t sit well with him either. She wouldn’t be safe from Rutherford until she was married, and there was a great distance to travel from his post to Fond du Lac. Could Stephen keep her safe?

“Why did you go to the XY post?” she asked.

“I needed to see for myself why the Indians are choosing Lachlan’s post over mine.”

“And?”

“He’s using alcohol to lure them.”

“How can you compete with that?”

“I canna.” He let out a long, low sigh.

“What will you do?”

He shifted a log with his foot. It sent a cascade of sparks up the chimney. “I will do what needs to be done to win the trade. That’s why I’ve been sent here.”

“You’ll sacrifice your morals?” There was accusation in her voice.

Reid tilted his head and frowned. “Isna that what you’ve been doing all this time?”

Putting her hands on her hips, she faced him. “How?”

“Dressing as a man, lying about who you are, sleeping in a tent—alone—with me for weeks?”

“That’s different.”

He crossed his arms. “How?”

“If I didn’t, Roger would force me to marry him.”

“Marrying someone you dinna love is not the worst thing that could happen.”

Her mouth slipped open in shock. “For me it is.”

“And losing to Lachlan would be the worst thing for me. So it looks like both of us will sacrifice our morals to get what we want.”

She stared at him for a moment, her mouth trembling, and then turned and left the living quarters. Her bedroom door shut before he allowed himself to realize how crass he had been.

Was sacrificing his morals ever worth the trade-off? Was it worth disappointing Charlotte and God?

He briefly closed his eyes, knowing he’d hurt her again. He wanted to blame his foolishness on everything that had happened that day, but he couldn’t justify his thoughtless words. He was angry with Lachlan and the trade—and his own weaknesses—but not with Charlotte.

Beating Lachlan and proving to his father he was worthy were not the same as escaping a ruthless guardian and fighting for her life.

He banked the fire and lifted the candle off the table. He would apologize to her before he went to bed, or he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

A knock sounded at the front door.

Frowning, Reid went to the door and opened it. A blast of cold air blew into the room. Daanis stood there, her hair and clothing soaked, her face filled with unmistakable grief.

Concern shifted Reid’s emotions as he opened the door wider. “Come in, lass.”

She entered the room, and Reid closed the door behind her, fighting the wind.

“Here.” He quickly set the candle on the table then removed the ashes from the coals. He placed new logs on the embers, and blowing against them, he was able to coax a warm fire for her.

“Come by the fire,” he said.

She did as he instructed, her body shivering uncontrollably. She allowed him to help her remove her wet coat, but her dress was just as wet.

“What’s wrong, lass?”

“I’m so cold,” she said through chattering teeth.

He left her side and went into his room and grabbed a blanket for her. He also went to the storage room and found the dress Charlotte had worn, now hung back on its peg. The feelings he’d experienced seeing her in the dress resurfaced and he hesitated for a moment before removing it.

When he returned to the main room, he placed the blanket over Daanis’s shoulders and laid the dress on the back of a chair. “You should get out of those wet things.”

The fireplace blazed with heat and light, sending firelight dancing over her face. She glanced at the dress and nodded.

“I’ll be back after you’ve changed.”

He left the living space again and went into his bedroom. He questioned if he should tell Charlotte that Daanis was there but thought better of it. It wasn’t worth disturbing her after everything that had passed between them. If she was feeling anything close to what he was experiencing, she’d need just as much space as him.

After waiting for several minutes, Reid reentered the main living quarters again and found Daanis sitting in a chair, facing the fireplace, with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her wet dress was on the back of the chair.

“Would you like something warm to drink?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

He busied himself with preparing the tea, glancing over his shoulder from time to time to look at Daanis. She sat perfectly still, watching the flames. It was growing late, but he still didn’t know why she had come.

When the tea was finally ready, he brought her a cup and held one for himself. He drew a chair up to the fireplace beside her.

“Can you tell me why you’ve come?”

Her dark brown eyes revealed nothing. How different they were from Charlotte’s expressive eyes. He almost always knew what Charlotte was thinking when he looked at her.

Without a word, Daanis set her cup on the table nearby. Her blanket slipped off her shoulder, revealing her dark, silky skin.

Reid’s pulse picked up speed, and he swallowed hard. She had taken off her wet dress, but had not put on the clean, dry one. It was on the seat of the chair, bunched up under the wet one.

He looked away, but she made no motion to cover herself again.

“I’ve come to offer myself to you,” she whispered.

Panic rammed against Reid, and he leapt to his feet, putting the chair between them. His senses were already heightened from his encounter with Charlotte.

Daanis allowed her blanket to drop even lower as she watched him.

“You need to leave, Daanis.” His voice was filled with panic, and he didn’t try to hide it. “I canna give you what you want.”

Daanis allowed the blanket to completely fall away from her shoulders and pool around her bare waist. “Why not?”

Reid moved so quickly his teacup fell out of his hand and crashed to the floor. He tripped on his own feet in his haste to get away. He went to the other side of the room, and it took every bit of self-control not to look back at her. She was a beautiful woman—stunning. But she was not his, nor did he want her to be.

Between Daanis and Charlotte, never in his life had he been tempted like he’d been this evening. Was this a test? He’d been flippant in his comments about sacrificing his morals to get what he wanted. Was God trying to see how far he’d go?

Charlotte’s words filled him with apprehension. He might forfeit some of his morals—but he could not sacrifice the one he held most dear. Marriage was sacred to him, and he would not compromise that belief for a moment of pleasure.

“Why don’t you want me?”

Movement behind him suggested she had covered herself again, so he chanced a glance over his shoulder. The blanket was now wrapped tightly around her body, and she was standing with her back to the fireplace. Pain and sadness pinched her face.

He prayed Charlotte was asleep and that she would not suddenly appear to find them in such an awkward situation. How would he ever explain?

“You are a bonnie lass,” he said quickly, his throat dry. “But I dinna love you.” He swallowed, the words coming of their own accord. “I’m in love with someone else.”

She pulled the blanket even tighter around her shoulders and sank back into her chair, sobs wracking her body.

Reid froze. What should he do? He didn’t want to encourage her—but he couldn’t let her suffer alone.

He went back to the fireplace and took the seat beside her again. “Why are you trying so hard, lass? You dinna need to come to me this way.”

She turned her head away from him and wiped her cheeks. “My father is angry with me. He thinks I have done something to displease you.”

“No.” He shook his head. “This is not about you. I made my decision about marriage before I even met you. I should have had the courage to tell you and your father.” He paused. “What do you want, Daanis?”

Taking a deep breath, Daanis finally looked at Reid. “I want a home and children of my own.”

Things she had probably hoped Fraser would give to her but had failed to do. Things she might want with Lachlan, if her father would allow it.

“I’m sorry, lass. I canna give you what you want.”

She wiped her face again, her eyes pleading. “Is it too much to ask?”

“No.” Compassion softened his voice. “But I’m not the man who can give it to you.”

After a quiet moment, she stood and lifted her wet dress off the chair.

“You may take the dry gown and spend the night with Noemie,” he said. “But in the morning, you’ll need to return to your faither.”

“He will be angry with me when he learns the truth.” Her eyes grew hard, and her lips thinned to a straight line. “I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I willna tell him you came here tonight.” He wanted to reassure her. “But you canna come again.”

She didn’t seem to hear him as she started walking toward the door, and he sensed she was upset about something deeper than her visit.

Reid wished he could help the lass, but it wasn’t in his power to give her what she wanted.

Charlotte entered the living quarters the next morning and found Reid sitting at the table, a bowl of porridge set before him. The ledger, which was usually his morning companion, was still on his desk near the door.

The rain had not let up. It continued to pour outside the row house, sending rivulets of water down the oiled paper windows.

“Good morning,” Charlotte said as she walked to the fireplace. She usually rose before him and made breakfast, but today, a pot of porridge warmed near the hearth.

“I couldna sleep, so I made breakfast,” he said.

“Thank you.” She took a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with a scoop of porridge. When she was done, she sat across from him.

His shoulders were bent, and his hands hugged the bowl, though he didn’t eat. Fatigue rimmed his eyes, and the lines around his mouth were troubled as he met her gaze.

Concern tightened her chest. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry for what I said last night. I wanted to apologize before I went to bed, but—” He looked down at his porridge, his eyebrows wedged together. “I waited too long, and you were asleep.”

Their heated words had made him this upset?

She reached across the table and laid her hand over his. “You don’t need to be sorry, Reid. We were both upset.”

“It doesna excuse my poor behavior.”

“Nor mine.”

He nodded absently, and she pulled her hand back to reach for the maple syrup.

But his mood did not lighten as he looked back at his porridge.

The longer the silence stretched, the more certain she became that he was upset about something other than their little fight, though he didn’t tell her what.

As she stirred the syrup into her porridge, he rose from the table and went to his desk to retrieve the ledger. “If you dinna mind, I’ll open the trading room.”

“It’s still early.”

“I’m expecting more trade today.”

She opened her mouth to ask why, but then she remembered their conversation from the night before. Lachlan was offering free alcohol. Would Reid serve it as well?

Instead of asking him about the trade, she nodded at his bowl. “You didn’t eat your breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Then I’ll join you.” She started to stand. “You shouldn’t have to do my job.”

Reid put his hand on her shoulder. “Finish your meal first, lass. I’ll start the fire.”

He left the living quarters, and Charlotte sank back into her chair. She longed to ease Reid’s burdens but didn’t know how. She dipped her spoon into the porridge he had made, unsure if she could eat.

There were so many things conspiring against her and Reid, not only to be together, but to get what they wanted most in the world.

Would either of them ever be truly happy again?