"There's fourteen women living in Bozeman right this minute," she argued. "And more will be settling in the area real soon."
Lucas didn't ask her where she'd gotten her information. For as long as he'd known her, Belle had always had an abundance of facts stored in her head. Most of them were true.
"I don't live near Bozeman," he reminded her.
"Makes no matter," she argued. "You can hire some men to work… Now why are you shaking your head at me?"
"I'll be damned if I'll let another man work close to her."
Belle's smile was wide. "So you aren't wanting any other men buzzing around her," she remarked. "That's mighty curious."
Lucas didn't know what to say in response to her remark. He shrugged to cover his sudden discomfort. He found the topic disturbing and wished now he hadn't told her about his marriage.
"Are you hearing the contradictions I'm hearing?" Belle asked. "You just told me you'd be damned before you'd let another man work close to your bride in Montana Territory, but just five minutes ago you said you're going to let her live in Boston all alone while you go riding back to your mountains."
"I know it sounds…"
"Contradictory?"
He let out a sigh. She was right. It did sound contradictory. Belle shook her head at him. "You haven't taken the time to think the matter through, have you?"
He wanted to argue with her. Hell, yes, he'd thought it through. It was supposed to be an easy, simple arrangement and only for a limited time. But Taylor made the arrangement complicated. He certainly hadn't counted on becoming attracted to her or feeling the constant need to protect her or experiencing such raw possessiveness every single time he looked at her.
"Of course I can see why you'd agree to the marriage. You gave your protection for the money to buy the boy's freedom. What was his name again?"
"Kelsey."
She nodded. "You recall the youngun named MacCowan? I seem to recollect the time you killed yourself a pair of vermin to get the boy out of their clutches. Then there was that little Irish girl. Now what was her name?"
"It happened a long time ago, Belle, and it doesn't have anything to do with my marriage."
"I'm just reminding you it's in your nature to protect," she countered.
"It's also in my nature to be free," he said then.
She chuckled. "I heard another contradiction, son. You said you're married, then you said you aren't. How long do you plan to go on like this?"
"I'm going to have to talk to Taylor and find out how long she wants to stay married. We've talked about getting an annulment or a divorce. I don't think it matters to her."
"Which do you prefer?"
"An annulment," he answered. "There would be less of a stigma."
Belle snorted with disbelief. "If she comes from money, she's social. She's going to be shunned either way. Does she realize that?"
"She doesn't seem to care."
"Now that's mighty odd," Belle remarked. "Most ladies would care."
Yes, Lucas thought. The majority of women would care. Why didn't Taylor? He recalled a remark she'd made earlier in the evening when she was going on and on about the list of reasons she'd memorized that were legally acceptable to the court for a divorce petition, and during the long-winded explanation, she mentioned her reputation didn't matter.
Belle downed the contents of her glass, motioned for Lucas to pour her another drink, and then leaned forward.
She grilled him with question after question about Taylor. She wanted to know how she dressed, what she ate, what she drank, how she behaved, how she treated others, and how she expected to be treated.
The contradictions piled up. Taylor came from wealth and luxury, yet on the voyage to Boston, she certainly hadn't behaved like a spoiled young lady in need of pampering.
"She pretty much does for herself," Lucas confessed.
"Nothing about your bride adds up," Belle announced. "Only one thing is certain in my mind, son. She had another reason for marrying you, one more important to her than her reputation."
The greater good. Lucas remembered that after prodding her to tell him the real reason why she'd married him Taylor finally admitted protecting her inheritance from her uncle hadn't been her only motive. She'd also married him for what she called the greater good. What in thunder was that supposed to mean?
Lucas decided it was high time he found out.
It was a fact he hadn't cared enough before the wedding to look into Taylor's background. Hell, he hadn't even bothered to look at his bride beforehand. No, he hadn't cared enough, and what she looked like hadn't been the least bit important to him. The truth of the matter was that he'd been in too much of a panic at the time. Desperation. He'd been desperate all right. He would have done anything to get Kelsey away from Merritt. When he'd seen how sickly and mistreated the boy had been, Lucas had even considered killing the jackal. Then Taylor's grandmother came up with a solution to his problem that wouldn't get him thrown in prison. Lucas immediately took the money and accepted the debt. And now what?
Belle drew his attention when she reached across the table to shake her escort awake. The pair left a few minutes later. Lucas accompanied them to the lobby doors.
"If I weren't leaving for St. Louis tomorrow, I'd insist on meeting your bride, Lucas. I'd get a few questions answered."
Lucas smiled. He could just picture Belle trying to browbeat Taylor into telling her what she wanted to know. His mother's friend was certainly older and more experienced, but Taylor was a bit more clever. She'd hold her own.
He kissed Belle good-bye, then went upstairs. He fully intended to get his questions answered, but he knew he'd have to wait until tomorrow. Taylor was sound asleep, or should be, and he wasn't in the mood for a lengthy conversation tonight. Taylor needed her rest, and so did he. He felt weighed down, worn thin. The city had done that to him. He couldn't be himself here. He had to be polite. He couldn't wear his guns. He felt naked and vulnerable without them. The air wasn't invigorating like the mountain air. Taylor and her friend marveled over how clean the air seemed. They didn't know any better, and he supposed Boston wasn't as stifling as London. It was still godawful to him. Every big city was. He felt as though the soot constantly spewing out of thousands of chimneys was coating his insides. Boston had become as crowded with people and crime as every other big city. Only those people who had never seen the mountains and the plains would be content to live in such a crowded area. They lived in ignorance. It was the only reason Lucas could come up with for why anyone would live in such a loud, hustle-bustle environment.
A man could only take so much, and Lucas had about had his fill. He needed to go home.
He tried to be as quiet as possible when he unlocked the door to their room and walked inside. He spotted Taylor immediately. She was sleeping on the lounge directly across from the door. The moonlight filtering in from the windows gave her hair and shoulders a golden glow. She looked like an angel to him. Her hair was spread out on the pillow and her hands were folded demurely at her waist. She was using her white robe for her blanket.
He stood there for a long while staring at her. He had to force himself to move. He turned and shut the door, locked it, and then crossed over to the alcove. He discarded his jacket on the way to the side of the bed, bent down, and pulled the covers back and then went to get Taylor. His intent was to trade places with her. She would sleep in the bed and he would take the lounge.
Although they'd slept next to each other before, he didn't trust himself to share the bed with her tonight. He wanted her too much. From the moment he'd walked into the room, desire had taken hold. Lucas shook his head. He realized he wasn't being honest with himself. He'd wanted Taylor from the moment he spotted her across the ballroom. The need had grown inside him with each step he took toward his bride. And when recognition finally dawned in her eyes and she gave him that wonderful wide-eyed, Oh-God-what-have-I-done look, he'd had the almost overwhelming urge to pick her up, toss her over his shoulder, and find the nearest bed. Yes, he'd wanted her from the very beginning, and heaven help him, it was becoming impossible to continue to behave like a gentleman.