Chapter 9 #4
“Trelawny. Sloan Trelawny,” the major supplied.
“Cougar,” Hawk interjected dryly.
“Pardon?”
The major had arched a brow at Hawk. Again, it was apparent the men knew one another well.
“Cougar-in-the-Night, to be exact,” Hawk said, his eyes tauntingly on the major in return.
“Apparently, he wants you to realize that I am Sioux as well as a member of the United States Cavalry,” Sloan Trelawny said, amused. “Just in case you had missed the heritage in my features. Your husband and I grew up together. Our paths seem to keep crossing.”
“You’re Sioux—and with the cavalry?”
“My dear Lady Douglas, at times the cavalry seems to be peopled with more Indians than the plains themselves. I am with the cavalry, yes.”
“But no, he doesn’t go shooting his own people,” Hawk interjected for him. “Sloan is a scout and liaison.”
“How interesting. But don’t your own people try to shoot at you upon occasion?”
He shook his head. “Not so far. When I speak, they may not like what I have to say. But they know that the words they hear from me are true. It’s my job to battle graft and corruption.”
“And the Crows, now and then. Not to mention old friends.”
“I’m cut to the quick, Hawk. Now, he’s the dangerous one,” Sloan said, indicating Hawk. “Ready to go to battle over something like an eagle feather.”
“We were four years old at the time,” Hawk said dryly.
“What he wants, he goes after.”
“I believe that could be said for you as well.”
“Ah, but the poor lady is not my wife, therefore she must be warned against you.”
“I think she stands duly warned.”
“Yes, well”—Sloan lowered his eyes as his lips twitched in a small smile—“again, we were all quite delighted to hear about the marriage.”
He was amused, Skylar thought. She wondered why. What had Hawk said to him?
“And again, sir, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. You came to pay your last respects to Lord Douglas?”
“Indeed, as well as to speak with the new Lord Douglas,” Sloan Trelawny said, glancing at Hawk. Then, changing the subject, he continued. “It’s wild country you’ve come to, Lady Douglas. But among the most beautiful in all the world, I’ll warrant.”
“Yes, it’s very lovely here,” she said.
The other three men gathered around them.
“Lady Douglas, may I introduce to you Sergeant Walker, Private Hamilton, and Private Stowe.” She greeted each man, relieved to see that none of the soldiers were the men who had burst in on the lodge two nights before.
Apparently, they had been on some kind of mission, looking for Hawk.
And just as apparently, the way that they had found him had caused them to delay their mission.
But now these officers were here, at his house.
She realized why Sloan Trelawny appeared to be so very amused.
Every man in the army must have heard why there had been such a delay in contacting Hawk the other night.
The thought brought a rush of color to her cheeks, which she was determined to subdue as she pondered the appearance of these men.
This was far more than a courtesy call on behalf of the departed Lord Douglas.
They definitely wanted Hawk. For what? she wondered.
“Gentlemen, shall I see you out?” Hawk said.
“My dear, I’m sure you’re anxious to retire after traveling so long and hard.
And taking such a curious route to your destination.
” With his hand on her elbow, he led her from the parlor and saw her to the foot of the stairs. “You can find the way?” he inquired.
“I can,” she told him.
“Lady Douglas!” Sloan Trelawny said, tipping his hat to her. A bright light of amusement played in his eyes when they met hers. She determined he was as much of a scoundrel as her husband, and that still, he would be a daring and fierce defender of anyone within his fold.
His men politely bid her goodnight. She smiled pleasantly and started up the stairs. She listened as the men filed out of the front entry way. Hawk was going out with them, she realized.
She didn’t go immediately to the master bedroom but hesitated on the landing.
When she was certain that Hawk had gone outside, she set out to explore the rooms upstairs.
She opened the door opposite her own. She was disappointed to discover a bedroom, probably a guest room, for though it was handsomely furnished, it seemed devoid of personality.
She wanted to find the late Lord Douglas’s office and try to discover if there were any papers that might have been returned to the house explaining just what her rights were, not as his widow, but as his son’s wife.
She tried a second room. Another bedroom.
In the dim moonlight she could make out several framed pictures on the mantel.
She walked over to take a closer look at them.
One was of a slim, handsome man, wearing a kilt and standing in front of a stone wall on which hung a coat-of-arms. The picture beside it was a small painting of a very pretty, light-haired woman.
Skylar studied the two and thought that she saw the late Lord David Douglas in both of the faces.
The coat-of-arms on the wall was probably that of the Douglas family.
She opened the wardrobe in the room, but it was empty. Pensively, she left the room, closing the door behind her.
She opened another door, then hesitated. She’d come to a library. Bookcases lined three walls. In the moonlight she could make out books on every subject imaginable. Military manuals, almanacs, novels, books on animal husbandry, herbs, sheep, cattle, horses. More military manuals.
As she walked along the shelves, she suddenly froze, hearing a door close nearby.
She turned around, realizing the library led into a bedroom.
The door was wide open. When she turned, she saw that the girl, Sandra, had come into the room.
She hummed as she turned down the sheets on a large, quilt-covered bed there.
The girl ran her fingers over the pillow and bedding with a slow, sensual flair.
Skylar backed away, feeling as if she were intruding. She heard the door from the hallway to the bedroom open and close again, and she jumped. Hawk came into the room. He approached the girl, speaking a strange language.
Sioux? Skylar couldn’t understand a word of it. Apparently, the girl did because she gripped his hands, speaking earnestly to him in return. Hawk freed his hands and smoothed back her long black hair. His words, unintelligible to Skylar, nonetheless sounded gentle.
The girl spoke in an anguished tone. Hawk took her face between his hands. He bent down and kissed her forehead. Feeling ill, Skylar silently backed out of the library into the hallway. She strode quickly to the master bedroom, slipped inside, and bolted the door behind her.
She leaned against the door, wondering at the tumult of emotions that raced through her. She should be glad. He wouldn’t be disturbing her tonight. He kept his own suite of rooms in this house. This was the master bedroom, but not the one he chose to use.
The bathtub was gone, she realized. As was the towel rack.
Her trunk was gone as well. Frowning, she moved across the room, opening the wardrobe and the drawers within it.
Someone had unpacked her belongings. Hung her dresses, skirts, blouses.
Folded her undergarments, set them into the drawers.
She turned around. Her brushes, combs, perfumes and toiletries were all arranged on the dressing table.
Had Sandra done this while she had been downstairs? She was startled by her sudden longing to slap the girl. She didn’t want Sandra touching her belongings.
She expelled a long breath, hating both Hawk and the girl. Then she plucked up her hairbrush, using it vigorously, taking her anger out on her long blonde tresses, burnishing them to a glow.
This was the master bedroom, but the master did not sleep here. Good. It was all very good for her. She had so much to work out. How to carry out her own desperate plans now that he stood in the way.
She set her brush down and threw open the wardrobe again.
She found a nightgown. Soft white flannel with embroidery at the collar and cuffs.
She slipped into it, thinking, Tell him the truth?
Ask his mercy? Never. He is more ruthless than any heathen on the warpath!
He’s still convinced I did ill to his father. Imagine trying to explain…
No. And yet, she had to accomplish what she had set out to do. Oh, God, she had to!
Everything had seemed so simple at the beginning.
And now…
Now she was married to a man who despised her. One still convinced that she was a scheming adventuress at the very best. One she could only fight in return. One she would have to learn to get around somehow.
She pulled down the covers to her own bed and lay down. She watched the fire, then closed her eyes, but she could not sleep. Her thoughts kept running rampant in her head.
With a deep, exasperated sigh, she rose at last, thinking that since she had just seen Hawk upstairs and the rest of his household was surely asleep, she might pay her own last respects to Lord Douglas in the parlor.
Despite everything that had happened and the way he had tricked her, she still missed him.
His death hadn’t been the painful shock for her that it had been for Hawk.
But she still had a few prayers of her own to say for the man who had apparently been even more of an admirable individual than she had ever known.
Maybe some answers would come to her again with him near.
She slipped out of her room, down the stairs, and into the parlor. She touched the lid of the coffin tenderly. “Well, Lord Douglas, just what do I do now?” she whispered fervently.
“You could begin by telling me exactly what went on between you and my father!”
She spun around, gasping at the sound of the deep, masculine voice behind her.
Hawk was no longer upstairs. His frock coat shed, his dark hair no longer neatly queued but falling free to his shoulders, he stood in the shadows by the mantle.
He set down the brandy snifter he’d been holding and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do go on, Lady Douglas,” he said. “I am so eager to hear this story.”