"Flowers and silk go together."
"And you weren't silk, so he saved the flowers and got right down to business, is that it?"
Janna's eyelids flickered. It was the only sign of her pain, but Case saw it. As Ty had warned her, Case was the best hunter of all the MacKenzies. Nothing escaped his cool, dispassionate eyes.
"No, I wasn't silk," Janna agreed huskily.
"But you are now."
She smiled sadly and said nothing.
One of Cousin Henry's guests cut in. Janna tried to remember his name, but nothing came to her mind except the memory of the young man's intense, hungry eyes watching the ruby brooch shift and shimmer with her breaths. She prayed for the waltz to end, freeing her.
"Are all western women so charmingly quiet?"
Janna opened her mouth to answer. Nothing came out except a soft, startled sound when the waltz ended in an abrupt jangle of notes. She looked over at the piano in time to see Silver lifted into Logan's arms for a kiss that conceded nothing to silk or ritual politeness.
"They're back!" Janna said.
She looked around frantically but saw only one tall, roughly dressed man mingling with the guests-Blue Wolf, not Ty. Then she felt a tingling all the way to her fingertips. She turned and saw Ty standing at the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed. Slowly he straightened and began walking toward her. As he closed in on her, there was no welcoming smile on his bearded face. There was only anger.
"Willie," Ty said coldly, "your nanny is looking for you."
For a moment the young aristocrat holding Janna thought of taking the insult personally; then he shrugged and handed Janna over to Ty.
"Apparently this dance belongs to the rude frontiersman?"
When Janna didn't object, the man bowed and withdrew. Ty ignored him completely, having eyes only for the bruja who stood before him gowned in silk and shimmering with gems.
The waltz began again, played by four hands. Ty took Janna into his arms, holding her too close for propriety. He moved with the graceful, intricate, sweeping motions of an expert dancer. An equally expert partner could have followed him, but Janna was new to ball gowns and dips and whirls. Inevitably she stumbled. He took her weight, lifted her, spun her dizzyingly until she had to cling to his arms for support.
"Ty, stop, please."
"Why? Afraid those fancy Englishmen will see you holding on to me?" Ty's narrowed green eyes glittered coldly at Janna through his black eyelashes. His voice was equally icy. "Not one of those titled fops would touch you if they knew your past. When they see past the silk they'll be furious at the joke you've played on them."
"Men never look past the silk."
"I've looked, Janna Wayland. I know what's beneath all the finery-and it sure as hell isn't a fragile silken lady."
The words sank into Janna like knives, killing the last of her foolish hope. A feeling of emptiness stole through her as she realized that no matter how she dressed she would never be Ty's dream, for he would always look at her and see the ragged waif dressed in men's clothes.
Silk purse. Sow's ear. Never the twain shall meet.
Janna tried to turn away from Ty, but his fierce grip on her never wavered. She would have fought despite all the people around, but even if she had won free she would still have been trapped within swath after swath of silk. Silver had been right: men preferred silk because it prevented women from running off.
Janna was in a silken prison. There was no escape, no place of concealment for her but deep within herself. Yet even then her tears gave away her hiding place.
Case tapped Ty firmly on the shoulder. "This dance is mine."
Ty turned on his younger brother with the quickness of a cat. "Stay out of it."
"Not this time," Case said matter-of-factly. "I brought her here, forced her to stay here until you came back, and now you're spoiling the Thanksgiving ball Cassie has looked forward to all year. Your family deserves better than that, don't you think?"
Ty looked beyond Case and saw Blue Wolf starting through the throng in Ty's direction. He knew that Blue was even more protective of Cassie than Case was. Then Ty spotted Duncan and Logan closing in on him with grim expressions.
Silver began playing a waltz again. Its slow, haunting melody recalled formal summer gardens and elegant dancers glittering with gems. Calmly, Case disengaged Janna from Ty's arms. As Case whirled Janna away, he said over his shoulder, "Go take a bath. You aren't fit company for anything but a horse."
Without a word Ty turned and stalked off the dance floor, shouldering aside his brothers.
Behind him Case and Janna danced slowly, gracefully, for Case matched his demands to his partner's skill. When the final strains of the waltz dissipated among the candle flames and rainbows trapped within crystal prisms, Case and Janna were standing at the doorway. He held her hand and looked at her for a long moment.
"Cassie told me you aren't pregnant," Case said finally. "I'm sorry. A child with your grit and grace and Ty's strength and fancy speech… well, that would have been something to see."
Janna tried to smile, couldn't, and said simply, "Thank you."
"There's a fiesty zebra dun in the corral. That fool brother of mine packed more than a hundred pounds of gold all over Utah Territory for three weeks looking for that zebra mare. Sixty pounds of that gold is now in a bank waiting for you to draw on it. The MacKenzies will honor Ty's promise to see that Mad Jack's half gets to his kids."
"Half of my gold is Ty's."
Case shook his head. "No."
Janna started to object again. Case watched her with the patience of a granite cliff. She could object all she wanted and nothing would change.
When Case saw that Janna understood, he bowed to her more deeply than custom required and released her hand.
"You're free, Janna. All promises kept."
Chapter Forty-Five
The oil lamps in Janna's room turned her tears to gold, but that was the only outward sign of her unhappiness. Cream leather shoes stood neatly next to the armoire. Pale silk pantalets were folded neatly on the chair. Hoops and petticoats were hung out of the way. Earrings and necklace and brooch rested in an open, velvet-lined box. All that stood between Janna and freedom was the maddening fastenings on her ball gown. The dress had been designed for ladies who had maids in attendance, not for a mustang girl who had nothing but her own ill-trained fingers and a burning need never to see or touch or be reminded of silk again.
"Allow me."
Janna spun so quickly toward the door that candle flames bowed and trembled.
Ty stood in the doorway watching her, but he was a different man. Gone was the rough frontiersman. Ty was clean shaven except for a black mustache. He smelled of soap and wore polished black boots, black slacks and a white linen shirt whose weave was so fine it shone like silk. He looked precisely like what he was: a powerful, uncommonly handsome man who had been born and raised to wealth and fine manners, a man who had every right to require that the mother of his children be of equal refinement.
Janna turned away and said carefully, "I can manage, thank you. Please close the door on your way out."
There was silence, then the sound of a door shutting behind Janna's back. She bit her lip against the pain ripping through her body.
"A gentleman never leaves a lady in distress."
Janna froze with her hands behind her back, still reaching for the elusive fastenings that held her confined within a silken prison.
''But I'm not a lady, so your fine manners are wasted. Nor am I pregnant, so you needn't feel dutiful."
The bleakness of Janna's voice made Ty's eyes narrow. He came and stood behind her, so close that he could sense her warmth.