Jesse's Renegade (#3 of the Danner Quartet) Read online

Miserably, Kelsey admitted, “I said I’d marry him if he stopped chasing after you, Charlotte.”

  Charlotte’s gasp was torn from her soul.

  “Orchid,” Agatha said crisply, sitting erectly. “Whyever did you do such a thing?”

  “Because I know Jesse. I knew him when he was a boy. He’s a renegade, a womanizer, and by all accounts, a rapist. I think he’s murdered some men. By the time he was fifteen he’d been in enough trouble to make every mother in three counties pray he wouldn’t set his sights on her daughter.” Her voice faltered and her troubled gaze encountered Charlotte’s white face. “I couldn’t let him use you, Charlotte.”

  “Use me?” Hectic color invaded Charlotte cheeks. “He was getting ready to marry me!”

  “I know. But for all the wrong reasons. He admitted to me that –”

  “How do you know Mr. Danner so well?” Agatha interrupted. She picked up the silver bell on the table beside her and rang for Cora Jean. The downstairs maid appeared so quickly, Kelsey wondered if she’d been listening at the keyhole. “Tea, please, Cora Jean. And maybe some brandy.”

  When the maid disappeared, Kelsey half sat, half fell into the chair next to Agatha. The starch had drained straight out of her. “I haven’t been completely truthful with you, Lady Chamberlain. My name isn’t Orchid Simpson, it’s Kelsey Garrett. My family and Jesse’s live in Rock Springs and they’ve been feuding for years.”

  “You deceived us!” Charlotte’s lips trembled. Her eyes were glassy, full of horror and betrayal.

  “I couldn’t let my family find me,” Kelsey said painfully.

  “You didn’t trust us to keep your secret?” This was from Agatha, whose pallor was a frightening gray color.

  “Not at first, and then later you all thought I was someone else and it just seemed easier to keep up the deception.”

  “Why are you telling us now?”

  “Because of Jesse!” Kelsey shook herself, angry all over again that he’d created so much trouble and turmoil. “Because he’d targeted Charlotte as his next victim. He needs social respectability, and he chose to take it rather than earn it!”

  “Why does he need social respectability?” Agatha asked tartly.

  “I – don’t know.” Kelsey blinked rapidly as the door opened and Cora Jean brought in the elegant silver tea set. A delicate, flowery scent, Agatha’s favorite jasmine tea, filled the air.

  “I don’t care why he wants to marry me, I love him!” Charlotte declared in a high, passionate voice. “I love him!”

  “You don’t even know him,” Kelsey said gently.

  “You just can’t bear the idea that he might love me too!”

  “Shush, Charlotte.” Agatha voice was like the crack of doom. She turned to Kelsey, and none of the affection Kelsey had grown to depend on was evident in her stern expression. “He’s agreed to marry you, then? He’ll stop courting Charlotte in exchange?”

  “Yes.”

  “He won’t marry her! He won’t. He hates her! He told me so.”

  Kelsey died a little inside at the soul-sick misery in Charlotte’s outburst. It was a plea. She was begging Kelsey to say it wasn’t true.

  “Have you agreed to marry him?” Agatha’s eyes searched Kelsey’s drawn face.

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t have to now, dear. If what you say is true, and I believe it is, I won’t allow my granddaughter anywhere near the man.”

  Kelsey regarded the older woman blankly. Charlotte rustled angrily across the room, stopping three feet in front of Kelsey’s chair, her fists clenched, her bosom heaving. “You can’t stop me from seeing him!” she declared. “Either of you. I’ll see whomever I damn well please!”

  “Charlotte!” Agatha was furious.

  “You can’t stop me!” she wailed in growing hysteria.

  “I’ve already married him.”

  For a heartbeat Charlotte didn’t comprehend Kelsey’s words. Then she let out a weak cry and clapped her hand to her mouth. Tears welled in her velvety blue eyes. She fled the room, fighting back tortured gasps. Her footsteps clambered on the stairs. A door slammed. Silence followed. Dreadful silence.

  “Tea?” Agatha asked in a dry, papery voice. She handed Kelsey a cup.

  Kelsey accepted it as if in a dream. She even tried to drink a little. She couldn’t look at Agatha. She was a traitor. A Judas. Though her reasons were right and sound, she knew neither Agatha nor Charlotte would ever be able to truly forgive her.

  “I suspect you’ll be moving out now,” Agatha said, her voice so normal and pleasant that Kelsey felt hysteria bubble up inside her again.

  “Yes.” Choking back a sob, she set her teacup down and managed to say in a voice that trembled only a little, “I’ll send for my things.”

  “I’m sorry, dear.”

  “So am I,” she said through a shaky smile.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  It was well past midnight by the time Kelsey arrived at Jesse’s horrible, mean little apartment. She was alone. Her erstwhile husband hadn’t returned. Kelsey was too distraught to worry unduly about either Jesse’s whereabouts or her own surroundings. She deserved this miserable hovel. She deserved worse! This whole disaster wasn’t even Jesse’s fault. It was hers. Hers! She’d brought it all on herself.

  For the first time in recent memory, she had no idea what to do next.

  She shoved her valise off the bed in a fit of rage. The case sprang open eagerly and clothes tumbled to the floor. Kelsey fought the urge to snatch them up and rip them to shreds. Instead, she flung herself on the moth-eaten wool blanket that served as a coverlet and laid her arms across her eyes.

  She drifted off to slumber, certain even as she relaxed that she would never be able to fall asleep. Her dreams were filled with images of Jesse and Charlotte, and a deep, deep anxiety that brought her sharply awake, bathed in sweat, sometime near dawn. She watched the gray skies lighten through the window, then wrinkled her nose in disgust as daylight coldly revealed the dilapidated ruin Jesse Danner had brought his bride to.

  Why am I still here? she asked herself. Who said she had to stay in these sorry rooms? Jesse?

  The thought galvanized her into action. She leapt from the bed, ripped off the hated brown wedding dress, and flung it against the wall where it hit the windowsill and hung there like some drunken curtain.

  In her drawers and camisole, her hands on her hips, Kelsey surveyed the room with disfavor. Auburn tendrils of hair fell across her eyes and she blew them away with restrained fury. She ripped the net from her hair, letting the lustrous red brown mane tumble over her shoulders. Yearning for the clawfoot bathtub at Chamberlain Manor, she wondered if she had the nerve to wander down the hall and find the bathing facilities. Were they even designated for men and women? The thought of some hairy, lustful beast interrupting her was enough to make her stomach turn.

  A scrape of the key in the lock caused Kelsey to freeze where she stood. Since she herself had no key, she’d been forced to leave the door open but had bolted it upon her return. Now, realizing her new husband was undoubtedly about to make an appearance, she raced to the living room, grabbed the one and only chair, and shoved it under the doorknob, making it impossible for Jesse to enter.

  The scraping sound stopped. He tried to shove his shoulder against the door. Wood groaned. Kelsey eyed the doorjamb with dismay. Could termites have infested this neglected building? Undoubtedly!

  Suddenly furious, Kelsey yanked the chair out of the way, slid the bolt herself, and flung open the door. “I was just about to leave,” she said icily as Jesse, who’d been about to shove his shoulder against the panels one more time, tumbled into her, knocking them both to the floor.

  Kelsey gasped, shocked and stunned by the feel of his hard body atop hers. She wriggled furiously, kicking and flailing and muttering unintelligible threats. “Get your blasted hide off me!” she shouted, sinking her fingers into his thick hair and yanking his head up to meet her blazing eyes.

  Jesse grunt
ed and knocked her arm away. “ ‘Scuse me,” he murmured, lifting himself on his palms until his chest was raised above her heaving breasts.

  “You’re drunk.” Kelsey could taste his whiskey-laden breath.

  “You’re undressed,” he said in surprise, his gaze centering on the milky white crest of her breasts.

  She instantly covered her exposed flesh with her hands. “If you don’t get off me this instant, I’ll scream and scream until someone comes to take you to jail!”

  Jesse shook his head, as if he were having trouble concentrating. “No one’s gonna help you here, Mrs. Danner,” he pointed out.

  “Get off me!”

  Instead of complying, the beast had the nerve to actually bend his head and kiss her. With thoughts of paying him back as she had before, Kelsey unclamped her locked teeth. Before she could bite into his lower lip, he said softly, “Remember, I’m a rapist and murderer. I’ve also been known to beat women on occasion, and I’m feeling more in the mood for delivering a sound thrashing by the second.”

  “You’re not drunk,” she breathed against his lips.

  “Not drunk enough,” he assured her.

  His mouth covered hers in a searing kiss that turned Kelsey’s bones to liquid and did wild things to her pulse. Her emotions were so torn and confused that she didn’t resist. Nor did she willingly participate.

  As soon as Jesse realized she wasn’t going to fight, his lips gentled, moving over Kelsey’s with an almost irresistible appeal, while an awful, treacherous warmth seeped through every pore of Kelsey’s body.

  Her lips parted involuntarily, her mouth clinging to his, softly greeting his kiss with one of her own. Confusion and curiosity made her want to experience more. This was nothing like the timid pecks or sloppy kisses of Kelsey’s past swains. Nor was it like Tyrone McNamara’s overpowering smashing of mouths together. This was… wonderful.

  Jesse lifted his head, eyeing her narrowly. Reality washed over Kelsey and she could have cried out at her susceptibility. “You’re not the only one in the mood for a sound thrashing,” she declared, punching one fist into his chest.

  “Oh, hell!” he muttered, rolling off her at the same moment. He clunked his head against the hard floor. He was less sober than he sounded, she realized with some relief as he groaned and grimaced.

  “Serves you right, you bastard!” Kelsey scrambled to her feet “I’m not staying in this stinking hole one more minute! I’m getting out of here. If you want me, I’ll be at the Portland Hotel.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  His total lack of concern ripped aside the last vestiges of her thin veneer of sophistication. Kelsey reacted like the Rock Springs hellion she’d once been. She grabbed him by the lapels of his once black – now dusty gray suit – and tried to haul him to his feet.

  Unfortunately, she miscalculated. She was strong, but not that strong. Not strong enough to lift a man who outweighed her by over eighty pounds. She managed to get his head off the ground, then dropped him. Jesse groaned again.

  “I’d like to kill you!” she shouted, kicking him in the thigh.

  He swore and struggled to get up.

  “You’re so drunk you can’t see straight! What were you doing all night? Where were you? If you wanted to drown your sorrows in liquor, you should have taken me with you. I’m the one who’s got something to cry about! Look at you! You haven’t changed one bit.”

  “Stop screaming like a fishwife. You want to drink yourself into oblivion, be my guest.”

  He staggered to his feet, running a hand through his hair, eyeing her as if she were some noxious insect. She suddenly felt self-conscious. Hearing noises in the hallway – doors creaking open, stealthy footsteps – she slammed closed the door to their apartment and bolted it.

  Only she’d bolted herself in with Jesse.

  Beneath the scent of liquor she could smell a tawdry feminine perfume. “You’ve been with a woman,” she said in disbelief.

  His gaze took in her camisole and drawers. “Yes,” he admitted.

  Kelsey wouldn’t have believed she could feel worse than she already did, but his complete lack of guilt nearly buckled her knees. It had been her wedding night, such as it was, and Jesse, the black-hearted scoundrel, had been making love to some other woman!

  “Mamie,” he said, sounding slightly baffled, as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

  Kelsey couldn’t speak. She twisted her head back and forth, trying desperately to control the wounded emotions that seemed to fill up every space inside her.

  “I understand she’s a whore, and a damned good one too.”

  “You miserable cur!” Kelsey choked out.

  “I didn’t bed her, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said, knowing full well that that was exactly what she was thinking. “I just slept on the floor.”

  “Oh, hell!” She blasted him with one of his own favorite expressions. “When I think about what you are, words fail me.”

  “That would be a first. You know how to talk sharper and meaner than any female I know, Mrs. Danner.”

  His tone was more teasing than angry and that worried Kelsey. Worried her, because she inadvertently responded to it. “Don’t call me Mrs. Danner,” she said.

  “It’s your name,” he pointed out dryly.

  “It’s an insult, the way you say it.”

  “You’d prefer I call you Kelsey?”

  She didn’t like the sound of her first name on his tongue any better. In fact, it sent goose bumps down her arms. “No.”

  He lifted one brow. “I’ll have to call you something.”

  They stared at each other and Kelsey grew ever more conscious of her state of undress. It took all her strength of will – which her brother had complained bitterly on numerous occasions was an awesome burden on his attempts to find her a suitable husband – not to cross her arms over her chest again. She was unable, unfortunately, to stem the crimson wave that swept up from her breasts and neck and stained her cheeks.

  Jesse’s gaze followed that blooming tide. His expression was detached. A frown creased his brow. For some reason his very lack of interest bothered Kelsey far more than if he’d suddenly yanked her against him and ravaged her mouth and body.

  It was humiliating – no, mortifying! – that a man of his dubious temperament – especially where women were concerned – could stand there so uninvolved, so utterly disinterested!

  “I spent last night getting used to the idea that you and I are married,” he said.

  “Oh, yes?” Fire burned in Kelsey’s blood. “It took a night with a damned good whore to help you?”

  “If I’d known who you were, I wouldn’t have gone through with the wedding,” he said, ignoring her.

  “I told you who I was before the ceremony.”

  “You staged the whole thing on purpose,” he pointed out. “I merely played my part. So, now we are stuck with each other – at least for the time being. Since being my wife is part of the bargain, you’re going to have to play it to the hilt.”

  She could not believe his cool detachment. “Meaning?” she asked in a dangerous tone.

  “You’re going to have to learn a bit more self-control. A true lady doesn’t sputter and scream and challenge her husband. Meekness would be a nice change. ‘Blessed are the meek,’” he reminded her.

  Was he laughing at her? “You could take some lessons yourself. Your idea to become respectable by setting up house in this cheap, dirty apartment is shocking. And then a night with a whore? Either buy a home – preferably a prestigious one around the park blocks – or move us to a hotel.” She smiled faintly as she eased toward the bedroom door and the rest of her clothes. “Since your wife is moving to the Portland Hotel, perhaps you’d like to take rooms there as well. My twenty thousand should help pay the cost,” she added tightly.

  Kelsey snatched up her nearest gown: the ugly brown wedding dress. She heard Jesse stop at the bedroom doorway, but she kept her back to him as she but
toned up her dress. Only then did she turn around.

  He looked murderous, and as sober now as a country parson. “Meekness,” was all he managed to say. Kelsey took that to mean he was acquiescing to her suggestion.

  She didn’t have a chance to ask all the other questions hovering on her tongue. Jesse threw her remaining clothes in her valise and started to take it downstairs. She did question him on where his own belongings were, and he tersely commented that he didn’t have any.

  Two hours later, when Kelsey was ensconced in a suite of rooms at the Portland Hotel, she realized there were several bags already there with at least three men’s suits already hanging in the closets looking freshly laundered and pressed. When Jesse offered no explanation, she bit her tongue, deciding she didn’t want to know anyway. Since the suits were in the west-end bedroom and he dumped her valise on the four-poster bed in the east-end room, she decided it scarcely mattered from where and when he’d moved his clothes.

  The rooms were gorgeous. Done in sky blue and gold, the upholstery and curtains and sinfully thick carpet were so luxurious Kelsey had to fight to keep from demanding how long they could possibly afford such opulence. Her twenty thousand dollars was a lot of money, but it was all she had. She’d given it to Jesse to prove a point. Now a streak of thriftiness she’d never quite been able to staunch made her worry if he intended to squander the whole amount. Surely not. Even Jesse wouldn’t be that irresponsible.

  Would he?

  Kelsey gazed anxiously at Jesse’s bedroom door which was closed and locked. She’d grown up wealthy – by Rock Springs standards – but she couldn’t abide waste. Now she wished she’d stemmed the recklessness and impulsiveness that had led to this debacle.

  Kelsey paced in front of Jesse’s cream-colored panel door, her high-button shoes sinking into the carpet, leaving tracks. Her hair was still unbound, floating like a wild cloud around her shoulders and down her back. She hadn’t had time to do more than throw on the hated wedding dress and hurry after him before Jesse was snapping the reins on the back of the horse who’d drawn their buggy through the teeming streets to the hotel.

  Grabbing her unruly mane in an impatient hand, Kelsey muttered furiously beneath her breath and headed to the bathroom. Yes, their room was equipped with a clawfoot tub with its own hot and cold running water. The luxury only made Kelsey more concerned. Jesse Danner or no Jesse Danner, she didn’t want to come out of this adventure penniless because of blatant waste.