The Topaz Brooch by Katherine Lowry Logan

Author:Katherine Lowry Logan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Katherine Lowry Logan
Published: 2019-12-19T18:00:00+00:00

40

New Orleans (1814)—Pete

Pete watched Remy stitch up Rick’s wounds and was relieved when Penny volunteered to stay the night at the Macarté Plantation to watch over the patient. That freed Pete up to take Sophia back to the city. Penny must have sensed the tension between him and Sophia because she pretty much booted them out the door. And Penny Lafitte could have done it, too. Man, she was one badass babe.

Pete and Sophia rode the six miles in silence with steam rolling off Pete’s shoulders and anger churning in his stomach. Sophia had a lot of explaining to do, but he was so pissed right now he didn’t want to talk about what she’d done behind his back.

Not yet anyway, but he would. And it could get ugly.

Four years of marital almost-bliss was about to come to a screeching halt. He hadn’t been this angry since Sophia’s parents annulled their marriage.

When they reached Marguerite’s courtyard, he announced, “I’ll put the horses up. You go on in and get a bath.”

“Pete—”

He sliced the air with his hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Sophia Frances. I’ve been on the road for four days. I got beat up, nearly killed, and I returned to find my wife working on General Jackson’s staff in the middle of a goddamn battle. If you want the truth, I’m more disappointed and hurt now than I was when you chose Thomas Jefferson over me. And goddamn it, I was messed up for months over that.”

She clutched her crossbody bag to her chest. Damn journal. Damn pencils. He wanted to grab the bag and throw her drawings out into the street for wagon wheels and horses to destroy.

“It’s not like that. I was never in danger,” she said.

“Enough! I don’t have the patience right now to listen to you. I’m so pissed, I’m shaking. Go get your bath. Go to bed. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

“Pete—”

“I’m not listening to you! Go away!” If he yelled any louder, he’d wake up all of New Orleans—and goddamn it, right now he didn’t give a shit.

She sniffled as she trudged across the courtyard toward the back door of Marguerite’s townhouse. And he had no sympathy for her.

Liar.

Okay, it tore him up, but he couldn’t give in to her. She promised before they left the future that she wouldn’t do anything to put herself in harm’s way. And goddamn it, she’d done just the opposite. He wanted to shake some sense into her—not physically, but he had to do something to get her attention.

She entered the townhouse, and he watched as the oil lamps came on downstairs, following her trek through the house as the lamps came on upstairs in the bathroom and their bedroom.

What he said about shaking was the damn truth. She’d ripped his guts out.

They had lived in a wonderland ever since she came back to him five years ago. He knew she had a restless spirit, so he made sure she traveled to new and exotic locations at least every few months to satisfy her hunger for inspiration.

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