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“I really do

n’t know,” she lied, to make it appear that the girl’s identity was of no import to her.

Her husband’s attention was diverted by the appearance of the man who had volunteered to accompany them out to see the herds of Longhorns. Lady Elaine slid a glance across the lobby at the young woman who was her daughter-in-law.

An alertness stilled her wandering thoughts when she saw the tall, lean cowboy talking to Lorna Calder. Her sharp gaze studied his hewn features. The resemblance was there, a rougher version of Seth Calder, but it was Benteen. Her son whom she had abandoned so many years ago.

She felt no guilt about it. She’d had enough trouble talking Con into taking her away with him. A child would have complicated everything. Besides, Seth had doted on the boy. Benteen had served as an anchor to keep Seth in Texas rather than come after her. If she had taken his son, Madelaine knew Seth would have torn up the world until he found him.

Madelaine—Lady Elaine—was convinced that some women were cut out for the role of mother, and others weren’t. She wasn’t. There wasn’t anything associated with Benteen that she had found remotely satisfying or pleasant. The pregnancy had been terrible. She had nearly ruined her figure. During those long, torturous hours of labor she had cursed Seth repeatedly for planting this child inside her. When she finally expelled the thing from her that was causing so much pain, she was only glad to be rid of it. She had no desire to see it or hold it; only with the greatest reluctance did she let the infant suckle at her breasts. She left it to Seth to see to many of the baby’s needs.

In her opinion, no woman should be obliged to have a child when she was only sixteen. It seemed she had never been young or carefree. Always it had been work and responsibility—the kind that threatened to ruin her beauty. She used to dream about fine clothes and jewelry, and tons of money that she could spend any way she wanted. Then Con had ridden up one day to water his horse, and Madelaine had found the way to obtain the riches she’d dreamed about. Madelaine Calder had become Elaine Asher.

It had been relatively easy to manipulate Con Dunshill, second in line of succession to the Earl of Crawford. At first she’d had to be content to be his consort. He had showered her with expensive gifts and clothes, taken her to the finest places in San Francisco and later New York. She convinced him that only his persuasions had prompted her to leave her husband and son, weighting him down with guilt. When she had intercepted a telegram from his family ordering him back to England, she conveniently mislaid it and trumped up a story that she’d gotten hold of a Fort Worth newspaper and learned of the death of her husband and son. By the time she “found” the telegram, Con was ready to take her to England with him as his fiancée. She had already acquired a good deal of sophistication. Together they came up with a background that would convince his family she would be a suitable bride. As the stories go, they lived happily ever after.

She had taken great pains not to have any more children, letting the other Dunshill wives provide the sons to continue the line. Con assumed that he was sterile, which gave her another hold over him. For all his education, he lacked the ability to scheme and maneuver people. Elaine had learned well and had secretly amassed a small fortune of her own.

It was a rather novel experience to know that the man standing across the room was her son. He moved slightly, giving Elaine a better view of his face. He had grown into a virile man. The more she looked, the more she saw. Ruthless determination, ambition, and the drive to succeed. She recognized those qualities in him, because they came from her. What a team they could make, she thought, then sighed.

“It took longer than I thought,” Benteen said. “Were you able to keep yourself amused?”

“Just before you came, I was talking to that lady I told you about,” Lorna said. “And she is a lady. Her husband is an English earl. She’s right over there by the door. You passed her when you came in.”

Benteen half-turned to look as the petite, well-dressed woman walked out of the hotel on the arm of a gentleman.

“Why was she talking to you?” he asked.

“I guess because I was the only other female present.” Lorna wasn’t really sure herself. “She was very kind. She’s going to send her maid to our room to give me some of her special lotion for my skin to heal its roughness.”

“Can’t you get something for it? We don’t need charity from her kind,” he insisted tersely.

“It isn’t charity,” Lorna retorted. “It’s no different than when Mary lets me use some of her thread to mend your clothes. Women do those things for each other.”

Benteen had the urge to order her to refuse it, but he had vowed to himself that he wouldn’t assert his will on her.

The minute she mentioned Mary’s name, she was sidetracked by the thought of her friend. “Did you see Mary when you rode out to the herd?” she asked. “She said that she and Ely wouldn’t be leaving for a couple of days. They are still there, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Ely’s making repairs to their wagon to get it back in shape.”

“I didn’t think Mary would leave without telling me good-bye.” But she was relieved just the same. “It seems as if I’ve always known her,” she mused. Life seemed to be made up of constant good-byes. “It’s hard to accept that I’ll probably never see her again either.”

“I sold the cattle.” Benteen changed the subject, not liking the sense of guilt her remark gave him.

Lorna realized she hadn’t inquired about the success of his morning’s outing. Cattle, always cattle. “I hope you got a good price for them.” It was a perfunctory comment, offered out of duty rather than interest.

“Eighteen dollars a head.”

“Is that good?”

“That’s what they pay for prime—sometimes twenty,” he replied to assure her it was a very good price. “There’s a big demand for beef in the European markets. That’s what is keeping the price up.”

His words were reminiscent of other remarks she’d heard at the lunch table. A smile teased the corners of her mouth when she also remembered Bull Giles’s biting comments.

“Did I say something amusing?” His gaze narrowed.

Lorna quickly wiped the smile from her face as she decided not to test the extent of Benteen’s sense of humor. “No, not at all. I was thinking of something else.”

“Have you eaten?”

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