Driven with the Wind by Lyn Morris

Author:Lyn Morris
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781619701304
Publisher: Hendrickson Publishers
Published: 2012-10-23T00:00:00+00:00

The Steens’ glittering ball lasted until the weary gray hours, so the only guests who stirred the next Sunday morning were the Duvalls, who went to church. Victoria stayed shut up in her room and was not at home to the many callers to the de Lancie mansion that day. Dev, too, stayed at home with Dart, dismissing both Mrs. Barentines, and brooded all day.

Shiloh slept. When he awoke a bleak cold twilight had already fallen, depressing him further. He had a sharp headache right behind his eyes, and his mouth tasted as though he’d been eating dirt. As always, he luxuriated in the en suite bathroom with the great claw-footed bathtub and took an almost unbearably hot bath that lasted over an hour, finishing it off with an icy cold rinse. After shaving and using Royal Lyme cologne—an extravagance imported from London that he truly enjoyed—he felt almost human again.

Opening a window, he found that a wintry mist was hanging in the air, a foreboding of a heavy frost. He sniffed, but like his other senses and his keen mind and his uncanny instincts, his sense of smell was dulled. Still, he thought that he could detect a final grasp of winter’s cold claw. They were in for a late winter storm, likely with some ice and maybe even snow. Shiloh found himself longing, with a tangible physical pang, for the eternal summer of Hawaii.

When he thought of Hawaii, he thought of Cheney, and frowning darkly he turned and yanked on his old clothes—faded gray Confederate breeches, thin muslin shirt, stained canvas overcoat, and worn cavalry boots. Jamming his old wide-brimmed gray hat on his still wet head, he stamped down to the grand foyer of the hotel and slipped through the steaming, fragrant kitchen and out to the livery stables. It was a long, cold ride to Minette’s.

“Shiloh, you must be chilled to the bone,” she said, appalled, when he stood in her parlor, his face gray, his eyes dull. “And you’re damp too. Here, give me your coat and hat at once and go sit by the fire.”

He gave her an obligatory kiss, then went to collapse into a leather club chair with a matching ottoman and propped up his feet. “Is this new?” he asked, looking around at her as she fussed with his coat. “You’ve gotten some new furniture, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” she answered shortly, her back to him.

“I like this chair. It feels good.” He rested his head along the back, luxuriating in the warmth of a fine fire and the feel and scent of good leather.

“I’m so glad you do,” Minette said, giving him a covert glance. She wanted to add, I bought it for you, but of course she could never say such a thing to Shiloh. “Would you like a drink?”

Shiloh hesitated. Minette usually had too sweet wine and cheap gin.

She added in a neutral voice, “I think I’ll have a brandy with you. I splurged and bought some Xavier Brothers.”

“Sounds fine.”

She

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