Miss Phipps and the Cattle Baron (21 page)

Lady Whittington's smile broadened. "You look
lovely tonight," she said. "It's too bad Adam will not be joining
us. I believe he'd appreciate your new dress. And with your hair
pulled up and ringlets about your face, you look especially
queenly."

That had certainly not escaped Priscilla when
she'd looked at herself in the mirror earlier. Although, in the old
color plate from her history book, the queen's gown was shown with
a tremendously wide skirt and was elaborately ornamented,
Priscilla's Pre-Raphaelite dress did have a look of royalty about
it, though perhaps more a Medieval queen. "I'm glad Adam won't be
here," she said. "He and I are not getting on. We are in complete
disagreement about many things." She took a sip of wine.

Lady Whittington looked at her soberly. "You
and Adam may disagree about many things," she said, "but it's clear
that he cares for you, and that you care for him."

"If you are referring to that very untimely
kiss," Priscilla said, "I'm sorry you witnessed it. I have no idea
what got into me to respond the way I did, other than Adam caught
me by surprise. It will not happen again. We are a complete
mismatch."

"Falderal! You are the first woman to
actually be a match for Adam. He is beside himself trying to figure
out what to do with you. You have turned his world upside down, and
I find it quite amusing."

"I do not know what you mean by turning
Adam's world upside down," Priscilla said. "He seems to be carrying
on quite well."

"Fiddle sticks! He's snappish, moody,
bellicose and entirely impossible to be around, because he is in
love with you."

"And I can assure you that he is most
definitely not in love with me. The only reason he is all of those
things is because he's angry with me because of my effort to get
women to vote, and the fact that they will not be voting for him.
What I don't understand is why you are not also upset with me. I'd
think that you'd want Adam to get elected mayor."

"What I want is for Adam to turn that ranch
over to his foreman and agent and get married and move into this
house and raise his children among polite society, and under the
watchful eye of a stepmother. As it is, his daughters are chasing
after cowboys, and his son wants to be a cowboy. Adam has had many
chances to chose a bride from among the most beautiful and eligible
women in Cheyenne, but none have held his interest. Besides that, I
would like to have a few more grandchildren before I die."

Priscilla looked at Lady Whittington with a
start. "Surely you are not viewing me as a prospective wife for
Adam and mother for your future grandchildren," she said. "Beside
the fact that any children he would have with me would likely have
freckles and carrot-red hair, I am almost past child-bearing
age."

"Almost, but not yet. Many women bear
children well into their forties. As for the hair, you would be
bringing the famous Tudor red hair to our family."

"That may be," Priscilla said, "but the fact
is, Adam and I can barely be together five minutes without snapping
at each other."

"You were certainly not snapping at each
other in the hallway when he kissed you."

"That is our other problem," Priscilla said.
"We have an unhealthy attraction for each other, though I have no
idea what it is about me that attracts a man as handsome as Adam.
But I do believe he is actually physically attracted to me."

"And I assure you he is."

"But that is beside the point as we are not
even speaking at the moment."

The sound of male voices in the foyer caught
Priscilla's attention. The fact that one of those voices was Adam
had her stomach rejecting the thought of food.

"Sorry I'm late, Mother," Adam's voice
preceded him. "I was detained at the—" he stopped short when he saw
Priscilla. He looked at his mother for an explanation.

Lady Whittington shrugged. "I'm glad you
could join us, Adam," she said. "As you can see, Priscilla has
honored us with her company."

Adam looked at Priscilla. "Yes... as I can
see."

Priscilla pushed her chair back and stood.
"Thank you for inviting me, Lady Whittington, but I believe I must
get back to my place."

Adam looked from Priscilla to Lady
Whittington, and said in a brusque dry tone, "What is the meaning
of this, Mother?"

"Just sit down both of you," Lady Whittington
said in a firm voice.

Adam took his place at the head of the table,
and Priscilla lowered herself into her chair, and they both looked
at Lady Whittington and waited for an explanation.

Glancing from one to the other, Lady
Whittington said, "You, Adam, have been acting like an absolute
peagoose, so I decided to do something about it and invite
Priscilla here so the two of you can set things straight."

Adam leaned back in his chair and folded his
arms. "I don't believe Priscilla wants to set things straight any
more than I do. We are on opposite sides of many issues, and I'm
sure she will agree with me that most of them cannot be
resolved."

Priscilla held his cold gaze. "That is
probably the only thing of which we agree."

Lady Whittington pursed her lips as she
looked from one to the other. "If both of you intend to remain
stubborn and standoffish, then we shall eat dinner together and
engage in polite conversation." She picked up her fork and speared
a honeyed carrot.

Adam looked at Priscilla, brows creeping
together in a puzzled frown as his eyes roamed over the bodice of
her dress. "I assume you're staying for the night."

"And why would you assume that?" Priscilla
clipped.

"Because you appear to be dressed for...
bed."

"I'm wearing the latest in Pre-Raphaelite
fashions," Priscilla informed him, in a polite huff. "If you
bothered to read the very informative article that your daughter
wrote in
The Town Tattler
you'd understand."

"What I understand is that you are causing an
uproar here in Cheyenne, with your inflammatory scandal sheet and
your rabble-rousing town meetings, pitting men against women,
husbands against wives. And your parading around in what appears to
be night wear will only aggravate the situation."

"The situation you are referring to is only
with the men," Priscilla said. "The women of Cheyenne are very
enthusiastic about my town meetings, my newspaper, and my fashion
column. My subscriptions have exceeded my greatest expectations, I
have more advertisers than I have room to print without going to a
large quarto size, and I am an independent woman. But you, like
most men, do not like it when a woman has power."

"Power? What power? You're printing a
single-page paper on an outdated press. I could shut you down in a
day if I wanted to."

"And just how would you do that?"

"Any number of ways."

Lady Whittington slapped her palm against the
table sending glasses clinking and silverware bouncing.
"Adam!
Your behavior is reprehensible!
Apologize to Priscilla at
once."

Priscilla cranked her chin up a notch.
"That's not necessary," she said. "It just confirms what I said."
As she held Adam's gaze, the haughty, self-important expression on
his face began to fade, replaced by the countenance of awakening
passion. And inside her, the longing for what he'd promised began
to stir. She realized then how powerless she would be if they were
alone, and he were to take her in his arms.

To her surprise, and dismay, he smiled and
said, "I apologize. My comment was uncalled-for. Please forgive
me."

"I doubt if you are being sincere," Priscilla
said, "but on the chance that you are, I accept your apology." She
glanced at Lady Whittington, who had the cryptic smile again.

Lady Whittington leaned toward Adam, and
said, "After dinner, you will please see Priscilla home. I sent the
coach round for her because you were not here, but now that you
are, you can see her safely to her door."

Priscilla raised a hand in protest. "I don't
need to be accompanied to my door, Lady Whittington," she said, in
an anxious voice. "I feel quite safe riding in the coach alone and
seeing myself to my door. Besides, I'm certain Adam has more
important things to do this evening."

Adam looked at Priscilla steadily. "On the
contrary," he said, "I have nothing to do this evening, so I'll see
you to your door." The message in his eyes was unmistakable. He
intended to prove to her on the way home how powerless she was
against him.

Her palm moved protectively to her chest,
drawing his focus there, causing her breasts to tingle. Perhaps she
was powerless against him, but with only a few blocks to ride, she
had no fear that Lady Whittington's next grandchild would be
conceived in the coach. But if the coach took a detour, for any
reason, she could not predict what might happen. Already she felt
her defenses crumbling. It started when Adam focused on her breasts
and she imagined his hands on them and his tongue teasing the
puckered tips. But unlike her near deflowering in the coach,
tonight there would be little beneath her dress.

Prickles of longing stung her eyes, and her
face flushed hot as the heat of his smoldering gaze moved upward.
When he caught her eye he tipped his glass and smiled.

She saw that same smile, thirty minutes
later, when he rose from the table to accompany her home. So, when
she stepped into the coach, and Adam climbed in behind her instead
of going around to the opposite door, she scooted to the far side
of the coach, putting some distance between them, and said in a
curt voice, "If you attempt to arouse my passions, you will not
find me welcoming your advances."

Adam let out a grunt of disgust. "Ah yes, the
woman with the power." He leaned toward her and said, "Do you
really think that if I were to take you in my arms and kiss your
lips and your neck and your breasts that you'd have the strength of
will to stop me?"

Priscilla hardened herself to the image his
words brought, no matter how accurate they might be, and said,
"You, of course, could overpower me by strength alone, but while
you would be trying to break my resolve, I'd strike out in a way
that would be most uncomfortable for you, so I suggest you not
try."

Adam leaned closer to her, his breath fanning
her ear, as he said, "I don't believe a word you're saying and
neither do you."

He kissed the side of her neck while moving
his hand down her bodice. But before he could reach his target,
Priscilla shoved his hand away, and said in a terse voice, "I'm not
your wife, Adam. You have no right to touch me there, or anywhere
else. And it will do you no good to describe the things you might
do as a means of arousing me because I'm no longer a slave to my
passions. I'm beyond that. You are not the man I believed you to
be, and until you prove yourself otherwise, I have no desire to
find you between my thighs. In fact, the thought of it makes me
cringe."

Adam straightened upright and folded his
arms. "You have a penchant for rendering a man impotent," he
groused. "What's more, any man unfortunate enough to find himself
married to you would be in a constant state of vacillation between
being primed for procreation and being worthless as a lover. And
right now you're in no danger of losing your virginity because I'm
simply not capable." He planted his mouth in a grim line.

Adam's statement alarmed Priscilla. Before
meeting him, she'd been naive in the ways of men and the importance
they placed on their ability to function as a male. She had simply
given it no thought. She had not even known that a man's male part
had to undergo changes before he could impregnate a woman, or even
give her pleasure in that way. It was a sobering thought that she
had the power, with a few words, to cause Adam to become incapable.
But it was not the kind of power she wanted. If they were to marry,
she would never want him to feel threatened by her in that way,
ever. She looked at his firm profile as he stared straight ahead,
his chest heaving beneath his folded arms, and said, "I'm sorry,
Adam, I didn't mean to emasculate you. I only want to put a stop to
the uncontrollable urges that come with your nearness. The touch of
your hand, the whisper of your breath against my ear, the feel of
your lips on my breasts set off a series of physiological reactions
that I'm helpless to stop."

Adam unfolded his arms and turned toward her.
"Then don't try."

"I have to," Priscilla said. "We're on
opposite sides of some very important issues."

"But we're on the same side of this issue."
He curved his hand around her neck and kissed the hollow of her
throat then moved up to cover her lips with his.

Priscilla couldn't stop the little moan of
pleasure that escaped her as his hands began to caress her breasts.
Nor could she stem the driving need that was slowly consuming her.
But after a few moments, she broke the kiss, and said, "You proved
your point. I'm powerless to stop you if you want to kiss me, and
do other things. So I guess the only way I can stop you is with
words that challenge your masculinity."

"Only briefly," he assured her. "I'm again
capable of taking your virginity. But I won't because the time
isn't right. When it happens, we'll have to be on the same side of
the issues that matter, you'll have to respect me as a man, and it
won't happen in a coach."

Priscilla settled back against the seat. "I
absolutely agree with you," she said. "But you have to understand,
Adam, that I'll never be on the side of the cattlemen, which is the
most important issue we face. Nor can I respect you as a man as
long as you take a stance with them to drive the homesteaders out
of the territory. So it seems that the place where
it
will
happen is irrelevant. And I'm resigned to forever remaining a
virgin."