My editor, KittyLynne, is not available because of recent incidence (I won't elaborate on her personal affairs) But, I would still like to thank her for all of her help on this story so far. I know things will work out, KL, and I hope to be seeing you around here soon.
Ami-chan
Wild Angels
By Amiboshi-chan
Chapter Nine
Tasuki tiptoed down the stairs, taking great pains to avoid the third rung which had squeaked the whole time he had been with the O'Bannions- and probably since before Nakago had begun to shave.
A small sigh of relief escaped him when his boots at last touched the floor of the foyer and he silently congratulated himself for his success in not rousing the household.. The first gray-and-pink fingers of dawn had just begun to touch the windows, and the rays traced a jagged line across the toes of his boots as he shrugged on his suit coat. He was just about ready to slip out the door when a voice came out of thin air, halting him in his tracks, and causing the hair on the nape of his neck to stand on end.
"Sneaking out, Tasuki?"
He turned quickly to find a fully dressed Nakago watching him over the rim of a steaming cup of coffee and Tasuki cursed himself for not noticing the distinctive aroma at once. In the back of his mind he could almost hear Chichiri's derisive commentary about his lack of awareness-how if Nakago had been an 'unfriendly', Tasuki would be in a world of hurt.He shook his head at the thought and glared at its instigator, but Nakago only smirked and sipped at the hot brew.
"You know, Tasuki, most of the people I am acquainted with do this the other way around- sneaking in at dawn, instead of out." The blond man's voice was spiced with dry amusement.
"Shh. . ." Tasuki moved silently towards his annoying companion, his irritation growing with every step. "Keep quiet, or you'll wake the rest of them up." His voice was a husky rasp.
"Hmm, I wonder which one of this household you do not want to wake and why?" Nakago leaned against the doorjamb of the dining room and took another long swallow from his cup.
By now Tasuki would have dearly liked a bit of the tantalizing brew that had filled the entire room with its aroma, but he knew he didn't have time. "I am on my way out." He whispered harshly.
"That, I think, is rather obvious. The intrigue lies in where are you off to at this early hour...and whom you are going to see?" Nakago's brows arched over his shrewd blue eyes. He could be as tenacious as a terrier with a soup bone when he wanted to be. "An illegal assignation, perhaps? A clandestine meeting with a woman?"
Tasuki scowled. He had no liking for Nakago's brand of verbal sparring. "Just out," he snapped. "Do I need your approval?"
Nakago gave him a placating smile. "Now, now...how about a strong cup of coffee and a bite to eat before you depart? I can rouse Tilly. She'd be glad to fix up some eggs and toast and we could talk about-"
"Enough!" Tasuki cut him off. "I can see I'll have no peace until you know my business. I am on my way to the gentleman's club."
Nakago nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee. "Indeed? The club? But the only pursuit that starts this early is boxing. . ." He grinned. "Wait a minute, I'll throw on a coat and come with you."
"I don't have time for your nonsense," Tasuki snapped, "And I don't have time to wait for you to finish your coffee and to grab your coat!" The last thing he wanted was Nakago tagging along. He glanced back over his shoulder. "And don't you mention this- to anyone."
Nakago held up one palm as if taking a solemn oath. "I assure you I will be the very soul of discretion."
The look of feigned innocence on Nakago's face left Tasuki feeling as if someone had just walked over his grave.
Tilly pulled open the window shades, allowing the brilliant morning light to flood her employer's bedouir. Patricia yawned. stretched and then rose from bed to pull on her yellow wrapper. "Is Miss Brooks still asleep?"
"Yes ma'am. I peeked in and she was sleeping sound as a babe." Tilly answered cheerfully.
"That is good. She really needed it, the poor dear. What time is it, Tilly?" Patricia yawned again as she began to pull a silver-backed brush through her long white hair.
"It is just now eight, ma'am. Will you be wanting your tray up here?"
"No, not today. I'll be down directly. Please wake Miss Brooks and then tell the cook I am ready for breakfast."
"Yes ma'am."
After Tilly quietly shut the door behind her, Patricia washed her face and neck at the basin and then gently patted them dry, closing her eyes in pleasure as the softness of the towel soothed her tired skin. She had not slept well. Memories of her conversation with Tasuki had kept her awake. Slowly her eyes opened and she stared at her pale features in the looking glass as she tried to make sense of what he had said.
'Mrs. O'Bannion, I want you to disregard everything you hear about me and Violet Ashland. I can't explain now, but I promise that I will- soon.'
Patricia sighed and forced herself to focus on her abolutions. When at last she opened her door she heard the long clock downstairs chime the half hour. She was on the second floor landing when Miaka appeared, dressed in a light green frock. There were dark circled beneath her eyes, as if she had not slept. Her hair was pulled back with a simple ribbon, and wisps curled around her neckline.
"Morning, ma'am."
"Good morning. Did you rest?"
"Yes-no. I must have been more tired than I thought."
Patricia studied Miaka's face in silence, and decided Miaka must have slept badly because she was worried about Yui. "Would you join me for breakfast in the dining room?" Now that Patricia had spent some time with Miaka, she was growing quite attached. Miaka was a breath of fresh air, guileless and unaffected, and surprisingly good company for one so young. For the first time Patricia realized just how much she missed having her daughters at home.
She slipped her arm around Miaka's waist and went into the dining room, where she took a seat. The sound of the front door being opened caught her attention shortly afterward, and she swiveled in her chair to see the new arrival.
Miaka found hercurious gaze following Patricia's line of vision. She nearly choked on her coffee when Tasuki appeared.
"Tasuki?" Patricia smiled. "What a surprise- I thought you were still in your room. Come have a cup of coffee with us."
Tasuki glanced at Miaka and she felt his anger- or was it disapproval? "No thanks, I. . ."
"Tasuki." Patricia used a motherly tone that made Miaka sit up straighter.
"All right, one cup." Tasuki walked into the dining room and sat down at the table. Miaka could help noticing that he kept his eyes averted, as if he couldn't bring himself to look at her. A cold finger of apprehension traced a line down her back and she fidgeted in her chair
"What have you been up to so early?" Patricia cast a speculative gaze at Tasuki as she poured him coffee from the silver pot. She looked away as set the pot back on its tray, and then turned her full attention to him.
"Nothing much." Tasuki reached to pick up his cup. Patricia let out a gasp and grabbed his hand.
"What on earth have you done to your hands?" Miaka found herself looking up against her will. Her eyes were met with the sight of Tasuki's skinned knuckles.
Patricia had fastened a tightlipped gaze on Tasuki. He shrugged, tugged his hand free, and picked up his coffee cup. From that moment on, an oppressive silence hung over the trio. Just when Miaka thought she would scream from the strain, Tilly entered the room to announce,
"Mr. Dover has come to call on Miss Miaka."
"Hotohori is here? He came?" Tasuki practically choked out the words. "The man has more damn brass than I gave him credit for," he muttered. "Never thought he'd want to show his face- especially not this morning."
"What?" Patricia frowned. "Whatever are you talking about? I think Hotohori is smitten with Miaka, and I applaud his good sense."
Tasuki stared at Patricia for a moment and then clanked his cup into the delicate saucer with so much force Miaka was sure it would crack. He turned to the maid, scowling furiously. "Tell Dover he can wait until Miaka finishes her morning coffee," he snapped.
"Yes sir." Tilly's eyes were wide.
"Thank you, Tilly, that will be all." Patricia said evenly. When the maid was gone she turned back to Tasuki. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I will not tolerate you abusing my staff."
"Abusing?" Tasuki shoved back his chair and stood up. "I didn't say an abusive word!"
"You didn't have to with a face as dark as a thundercloud! I am going upstairs to change for my meeting with the hospital charity committee and while I am gone I want you to apologize to poor Tilly." Patricia rose from her chair with all the dignity of a duchess. "I shall tell Mr. Dover that you will be out very shortly, Miaka."
"Thank you, ma'am."
As soon as Patricia stepped into the foyer and could be heard speaking to Hotohori, Tasuki turned to glare at Miaka. "What the hell is he doing here?"
"Don't you dare use that tone with me!" Miaka hissed back.
"Oh, so now I'm using a tone." Tasuki took two calming, drawn out breaths, then began again in a lower, more controlled voice. "Please tell me why Hotohori Dover is here?"
"I won't tell you a thing." Miaka tilted her chin upward, her expression full of open defiance. "I don't have to answer to you."
"That may be true, but you are damn well going to!"
In the blink of an eye Tasuki was out of his chair and around the table. He pulled Miaka to her feet and glared down at her. "Just what the hell do you think you are doing, Missy?"
She glared. "It's Miaka now- and I'm keeping company with a gentleman. One who isn't engaged to another woman."
Tasuki flinched as if she had slapped him. The tight grip he had on her shoulders eased as he stared into her eyes, and for an agonizing moment Miaka thought he was going to walk away from her. Instead, without warning, he bent his head and captured her mouth with his.
Miaka immediately sagged against his chest as the heady power of his kiss made the world disappear. She could no long hear Patricia and Hotohori in conversation. She could no longer smell the coffee, or hear the birds singing in the garden, or feel the floor beneath her feet. She clung to him, while every part of her being focused on Tasuki as he claimed and branded her with his lips. Then suddenly he pulled away and took a step backwards as Miaka sank weakly into her chair.
"Take that with you while you are out with Hotohori Dover." He said quietly.
"Take that with you while you are out with Hotohori Dover." Tasuki said, then stalked out the french doors and disappeared into the garden.
Tasuki paced the grounds as he tried to get his temper under control. He didn't know what had gotten into him. Sneaking into Miaka's room was bad enough, but kissing her in the O'Bannion's dining room. . .good god, he was going to pieces.
He raked a hand through his still damp hair. He heard Miaka's clear, sweet laughter, and his gut twisted like a sidewinder.
He sat down on the stone bench near the flowery arbor and looked at his sore knuckles with a certain amount of satisfaction. Miaka had clearly wondered how he had barked his hand- he could see it in her eyes when she had stared at him.
What would she say if he told her he'd done it on Hotohori's too handsome face?
He swallowed hard. In the back of his mind he could heard Chichiri's laughter. Yep, he had it bad. As much as he wanted to deny it, he was in love.
He was in love with Missy Brooks.
An hour later Miaka bent her knees and dipped low enough to see her reflection in the mirror in the foyer. Ellen and Miss Baldwin, he dressmaker, had instructed her on which frock to wear with each bonnet and set of gloves, but she was never sure th jaunty angle where the bow rested against her jaw was quite right. She untied it and tied it again in a different position.
"You look lovely my dear," Hotohori said from his position against the wall of the foyer. "I will be the envy of all the men in the park."
"Yes, Miss Brooks, you do look especially lovely." Tasuki's voice made her start and she turned to find find him watching her from the dining room. His eyes were like fire and the expression she saw in them made her shiver with need.
In desperation, Miaka turned to look at her escort. Light spilled through the window andonto the parquet floor where Hotohori stood. Tiny dust motes floated around the starched crease in his navy trousers and onto the white leather gaiters above his shoes. He was impeccebly dressed as usual, but there was something different about him. Miaka studied him carefully from under her bonnet. There was a certain familiar sootiness to the skin around his left eye. . .
"Hotohori, you've got a shiner!" Miaka blurted out. She clamped her gloved hand over her mouth, but it was too late.
Tasuki sauntered into the foyer and smiled at Hotohori. "Why Hotohori, you do have a mouse under your eye! What have you been up to?"
Hotohori stared at Tasuki with an arched brow. When it was evident he had no intention of answering, Miaka turned and walked out to the waiting carriage.
A while later, the carriage rolled along a lane canopied by horse chesnut trees, whose beautiful pinkish blossoms hung like grapes overhead. Miaka sat on Hotohori's left side, while Tasuki sat alone in the opposite seat. She sat primly, her hands folded in her lap, trying to avoid his intense scrutiny.
She glanced furtively at Hotohori from under her bonnet, not surprised at all to see that his swollen eye was beginning to take on rainbow hues. She was not fooled by his lie about running into a door. THEY had been up to something together- Tasuki's knuckles and Hotohori's eye were somehow connected, and she wondered if it had been literally.
"I don't know why you felt it necessary to come along," Miaka finally said to Tasuki. "Surely you have better things to do with your time." Her gaze involuntarily strayed to his hands.
"It is necessary, because I feel responsible for you and your reputation," Tasuki replied smoothly, "and I cannot think of anything more pleasant to start the day than a morning carriage ride. " He smiled blandly at the other man. "By the by, Hotohori, I hope your little, uh, injury from running into that door is not giving you too much discomfort."
Hotohori smiled broadly. "Not a bit- and even if it was, it would not be enough to keep me from visiting Miaka."
A look passed between the two men and it suddenly occured to Miaka that if she were betting, she would have laid even odds that it was a silent challenge. She wondered what in blazes was going on.
"What would it take to keep you away, I wonder?" Tasuki flexed his fingers, drawing Miaka's attention to his scraped knuckles.
"It might be interesting for us to find out," Hotohori said happily.
Miaka frowned at both of them.Suddenly she felt like a tattered old piece of leather being stretched between a couple of squabbling coyotes.
"Miaka?" Hotohori's voice interuppted her thoughts.
"I'm sorry, I was didn't hear you," she murmured.
Hotohori grasped her hand. Even through the thin lace of her gloves, she could feel the silky smoothness of his palm. A man should have wide, rough and sturdy hands, she thought idly. Show me a man with a calloused palm, and I'll show you a man a woman can trust to keep her safe. A man with hands...just like the ones that had pulled her out of her chair that morning.
She found her gaze going beyond Hotohori to Tasuki. His expression was darker than Hades and his eyes blazed with. . .jealousy?
The word popped into her head, but she discounted it. No, Tasuki was not jealous. He liked to tease and belittle her and he liked to play around with her emotions by kissing her until she lost all of her good sense, but he certainly didn't care enough about her to be jealous.
Miaka studied Hotohori's handsome, unlined profile.His features were smooth and even, but they lacked a fundamental strength. (Author's note: I know I know, but bear with me. Remember, Hotohori is neither an Emperor nor a seishi in this story). He would never be able to withstand the hardships of pioneer life, Miaka realized. And he'd never know the knd of satisfaction she had seen written across Tasuki's lean face at the end of every tiring day they had spent together out west.
She forced her attention back to Hotohori and as he made small talk, she tried to dispel thoughts of Tasuki's hands upon her and the feel of his kiss, but she couldn't. A hot band tightened around her heart.
"I paid Yui a visit before I came to pick you up," Hotohori said at last.
He had finally succeeded in getting her attention. Miaka swiveled in her seat as far as she could without knocking her knees against Tasuki's. "How is she? How soon can I go and visit her?" A burst of excitement rippled through her.
"She is much improved. She specifically said to send her regards, and it was she who suggested I come and take you for an outing." Hotohori slid a glance to Tasuki and swallowed hard. "But I must tell you, seeing Yui may prove to be a difficult prospect." He sighed, and patted her hand.
"Difficult? Why?" Miaka asked. Tasuki shifted restlessly in his seat, his leg brushing against hers. He ciontinued to gaze out the side of the carriage as if he were interested in the scenery rolling by, but Miaka could tell he was listening intently.
"I hope this doesn't greatly upset you, Miss Brooks, but Tokaki has forbidden Yui to see you."
"What?" Miaka recoiled as if she had been struck. "Is Yui that ill?"
"No, she is not. I had a long chat with the downstairs maid. She told me Yui is quite chipper these days and desperately longs for your company, but Tokaki won't be budged."
Tasuki glanced up. "You seem to spend a lot of time gossiping with the help, Dover." There was ice in his voice.
Miaka seared him with a look and he subsided. "Please Hotohori, tell me all you heard. I want to know about Yui." She pleaded.
Hotohori nodded solemnly. "The maid swears Yui is gaining strength, but. . .
"But?"
"Oh dash it all- everyone knows that Tokaki is looking for someone to blame and he has somehow gotten it into his head that you are the cause of her most recent collapse. I'm sure he will come around, but for now you can't see her. Yui is very upset by his stubbornness, but of course she has little recourse at this point until she fully regains her health."
"I see," Miaka said softly. Tears were burning at the back of her eyes, but she wasn't sure if they were present from being wrongly accused or because of guilt that Tokaki could be right and that she really had been responsible for causing Yui's ill health.
"I'll talk to him if you want," Tasuki offered softly.
'Damn his no good polecat's hide,' Miaka cursed silently, as Yui had taught her. She didn't want Tasuki to be nice to her- it was too hard for her to handle him that way but even as she mentally denied his help she found herself nodding her assent. "I'd appreciate that, Tasuki, thank you."
"Do you want to join us for tea, Tasuki my boy?" Hotohori asked genially.
"I don't know what I want anymore," Tasuki mumbled moodily. Oblivious to the bewildered glances of his companions, he turned aside and raked his hand through his hair.
He was all tied up in knots. One minute he wanted to turn Miaka over his knee and the next he wanted to gather her up in his arms and kiss all her hurt away. She was driving him plumb crazy with her beauty, newfound grace and lady like manners, but if he was honest, he had to admit he missed their daily battles and the simmering emotions that used to flare between them. A mixture of anger, excitement and melancholy twined through him as he thought of the good old days, when Brooks and McCarty rode the free range as true companions in every sense of the word except one.
An hour later the carriage drew up in front of the O'Bannion's brownstone. Tasuki immediately slipped out his door and stalked up the stone steps without so much as a word or a glance for Miaka and Hotohori.
He wished he hadn't insisted on coming along. What had he been thinking? And worse, Missy probably hated him for it. He opened the door and stepped inside the house before Miaka had even stepped out of the carriage but then paused to watch her approach, for his raging jealousy would not permit leaving her to a private goodbye with Dover.
"Have dinner with me tonight?" Hotohori pressed, as he strolled up the walk with Miaka on his arm. "I promise I will have nothing but good news of Yui." He smiled. "She doesn't want you moping around on her account, you know."
Miaka wasn't sure she wanted to spend an evening with Hotohori, not when the imprint of Tasuki's kiss still burned on her lips. She was confused as to what to do, but then she saw him, standing just inside the screened doorway, watching Hotohori and her with folded arms and a harsh, disapproving expression.
"What time will you come for me?" She blurted out.
"Seven o'clock." Hotohori's happy smile grew wider.
"Then I'll make sure we are ready and waiting for you, Hotohori ol' boy." Tasuki stepped outside and manuevered himself between Miaka and Hotohori as blatantly as he had insinuated himself into the conversation.
Miaka arched her brows. "We will be ready?"
"You know it's not done for a lady of your stature to run around town unchaperoned," Tasuki asserted as he returned her stare in full measure. "And I feel responsible for you... remember?"
Miaka looked away. "Yes I remember." Only too well.
Hotohori glanced from Miaka to Tasuki. "That's fine then. I shall be here at seven." He leaned forward as if to give Miaka a kiss, but Tasuki placed his hand on her arm and cleared his throat in an exaggerated manner.
"Yes...um... well, ah, until seven then." Hotohori mumbled, settling for a slight bow in a Miaka's direction before turning and walking back to the waiting carriage.