Deceived by Desire
Page 24
“. . . would’ve been a terrible scandal were it not for the duke and duchess.”
“. . . never leaves her side.”
The scandalized whispers of the other women had Maeve’s face burning with embarrassment. Of course they were talking about her every chance they got. She hadn’t given them sufficient opportunity with Catherine or Madeleine always by her side, but she’d deluded herself into thinking she’d somehow managed to evade the gossip. It had probably been happening all along, just not where she could hear it.
“. . . if she’s pregnant, Eliza will die.”
Maeve used the tissue to wipe her mouth and hoped she hadn’t ruined her appearance by being sick.
“Ladies, if you’ll excuse us for just a moment. I’d like to check on my wife.”
Aubrey. Dear God, he couldn’t be in here.
“Of course, Mr. Nelson,” one of the whisperers said. “We hope she isn’t ill.”
“As do I.” He came up behind her in the stall and wrapped an arm around her. “Are you all right, love?”
“I will be.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I need to clean up and a drink of water would help.”
“I’ll go get it for you. Will you be all right for a few minutes?”
Maeve nodded. She needed time to herself to collect her thoughts and find her composure.
Aubrey kissed her forehead. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
After he left the room, Maeve sat at the vanity, easing into the chair carefully in deference to the stomach pains that were continuing to make her sweaty and uncomfortable. She had no idea how long she sat there, breathing through the pain, when the door opened and closed, the snick of the lock sliding into place jolting her.
She spun around to find her mother-in-law glaring at her. “We need to talk.”
Eliza Nelson was the last person on earth Maeve wished to speak to, but Eliza had bided her time, and now she had Maeve right where she wanted her—locked in a room with no way for Aubrey or his illustrious friends to help her.
“You may not be aware of this, but the man you married is brilliant,” Eliza said.
“I know that.”
“Shut up and listen.”
Maeve was horrified by the crimson creep that came from her chest to her face, hating that it gave away feelings she’d much prefer to keep hidden from the other woman.
“He’s brilliant. He’s been on the front lines of using refrigeration in railcars and has helped to revolutionize the way food is transported in this country, putting the Nelson name on par with the Vanderbilts, Astors and Russells. Anderson and Alfie are competent businessmen. Aubrey is the genius. He doesn’t know it yet, but when his father passes away, he will be named the new chairman of Nelson Industrial.”
Maeve listened to what Eliza said with a growing sense of dread. Why was Eliza telling her these things?
“Under no circumstances can he have an Irish wife who was once in service to the family. He needs a wife who will understand the demands of his new role and who can adequately support him as he takes the company to even greater heights. That wife will not be you.”
Maeve had known it was coming, but the words sliced through her like a knife to the chest nonetheless.
“What’s it going to take to get rid of you?”
“P-pardon?”
“You heard me. How much do you want?”
Maeve stared at her in disbelief. What was she saying?
“Have you gone deaf and dumb now? Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m asking you or that it’s not exactly what you hoped to gain by marrying my son.”
“I . . . I don’t want your money.”
“Please,” Eliza said, scoffing. “Don’t insult my intelligence. Name your price and hurry up about it. I don’t have all night. I have far better things to do with my time than deal with the likes of you.”
“I have no price.”
“Everyone has a price.”
“I don’t.” She forced herself to look the other woman dead in the eye. “I love Aubrey. He loves me. That’s all I want.”
Eliza laughed. “That’s rich. He doesn’t love you. He loves fucking you. Are you too stupid to know the difference between love and lust?”
Shocked to her core and horrified by the vulgar term, Maeve could only stare at Eliza and wonder how a mother could be so callous toward her own son.
“What will people say when they find out you murdered your former husband?”
How did she know that? Maeve’s mind raced with horror at the implications of Eliza knowing about her past. “I didn’t murder him. I defended myself—”
“Save the theatrics. If word gets out that you killed a man, you’ll be shunned by everyone who matters—and so will Aubrey. Is that what you want for him?”
“How would the word get out?”
Eliza waved away the question with a sweep of her hand. “Let me put it to you this way—if you don’t leave him, immediately, he’ll be passed over for the opportunity of a lifetime. Serving as chairman of Nelson Industrial will cement his rightful place as a titan of business and society. He’ll make history. You say you love him. Would you deny him such an opportunity?”
Maeve’s heart broke in two, the searing pain leaving her breathless.
“Well? Would you deny him that?”
“No,” Maeve said softly. She would deny him nothing.
“Then you’ll leave immediately. Tonight.”
Maeve pressed a hand to her chest where she’d tucked Mr. Farthington’s money in anticipation of a moment just like this.
Eliza stepped forward, her hand extended.
Maeve recoiled, wishing there was anywhere she could go to escape the woman.
“Take this.” Eliza held out a stack of bills. “Go back to Ireland where you belong.”
Maeve eyed the cash and then looked up at Eliza. “You have nothing I want or need.”
“Suit yourself.” Eliza curled her hand around the wad of cash. “But if I ever see you again, I’ll ruin him. And just for good measure, I’ll make sure everyone who matters here and in New York knows how your first marriage ended. If you think I won’t do it, try me.”
“I have no doubt you’d do it as you’re probably the most heartless human being I’ve ever met, and I’ve met some rather heartless people in my day.”
Eliza’s lips turned white, and her face flushed with fury. “Our business is concluded. Take your leave and don’t come back. Or else.” With that, she unlocked the door and left the room.
As Maeve watched her go, devastation set in. She would never see Aubrey again. She would never wake up to his beautiful face on the pillow next to hers. She would never again experience the pure joy of joining her body with his, of kissing his lips or sleeping with his arms around her, keeping her safe and protected.
A sob escaped from her tightly clenched jaw as she forced those thoughts to the back of her mind—for now. There would be a lifetime to mourn what she’d lost. She had to go before he returned and made it impossible for her to leave.
* * *
The crush of people standing between Aubrey and the refreshment table frustrated and irritated him. Anxious to get back to Maeve, he excused himself a hundred times before he gave up and began throwing an elbow or two to get through the crowd.
An oomph from next to him had him looking over to apologize to the owner of the gut he’d assaulted. “Mutt! So sorry, chap.”
Matthew rubbed the sore spot on his abdomen. “That’s a rather lethal elbow you’ve got there, Aubrey.”
“My wife is unwell, and I’m trying to get her a glass of water, which is a seemingly impossible mission in this maelstrom.”
“I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve been meaning to come by.”
Matthew’s words were somewhat slurred, his puffy face indicative of a protracted bender.
“But I’ve been a little busy. I do need to speak to you somewhat urgently.”
Aubrey cast a
glance over his shoulder, noting that the retiring room where he’d left Maeve was now out of sight. “About what?”
Matthew curled a hand around Aubrey’s arm and guided him out of the fray into a dark hallway.
Aubrey wanted to shake off his friend so he could return to Maeve, but Matthew’s tight grip had him staying put. “Whatever it is, Matthew, spit it out. I need to get back to my wife.”
“It’s about her.”
“What is?”
“There was something I didn’t tell you after you sent me to pay off Tornquist. I was going to tell you, but you seemed so . . . happy with her.”
“I am happy with her, and I already know what happened with her former husband. I’m not sure how much you’ve had to drink that you don’t remember—”
“It’s not that. It’s something else.”
A sense of foreboding overtook Aubrey as he noticed Matthew’s speech had lost the slur and his eyes were intently focused.
“Another man who courted her turned up dead, reportedly from poisoning, a year before she married Farthington.”
Aubrey stared at his friend, wondering if he’d heard him correctly.
“I didn’t want to tell you because you were happy, but then I started to worry about something happening to you and how guilty I’d feel if it did.”
“You . . . you think I’m unsafe with her?”
“Men seem to die in her presence, Aubrey. You’d be wise to practice all due vigilance.”
“With my wife? Whom I love and who loves me? I don’t need to be vigilant with her. She’s no threat to me.”
“Two men are dead, Aubrey. You can’t allow love to blind you to the possibility—”
Aubrey held up his hand to stop the man. “Enough. Your conscience is now clear, and I must get back to my wife. Enjoy your evening.”
“Aubrey . . .”
Whatever else Matthew had to say, Aubrey wasn’t listening. If another man in Maeve’s past had died prematurely, he had no reason to believe she’d been involved in any way. And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, she was incapable of harming anyone unless her own life was in peril. He thanked the good lord above every day that she’d fended off Farthington’s attack and managed to escape to America. That chain of events had led her to him, and for that, he would always be grateful.
Making his way toward the refreshment table, he encountered Derek and Catherine.
“Ah, there you are,” Derek said. “This is like the first ball of the London Season when everyone wants to be seen.”
“It’s ridiculous.” Aubrey finally poured a glass of water from one of the iced pitchers on the table. “Maeve is not feeling well, and I’ve been trying to get her a drink of water for fifteen minutes now.”
“Where is she?”
“In the ladies’ retiring room.”
“Allow us to help clear a path for you,” Derek said.
“I would appreciate that very much.”
With Derek and Catherine leading the way, the crowd parted to allow the duke and duchess to pass. Aubrey made it back to the room where he’d left Maeve in half the time it would’ve taken without their assistance.
“It certainly does help to have friends in high places,” Aubrey said.
Derek laughed. “Whatever I can do for you, my friend.”
“Do you mind if I stay to make sure Maeve is all right?” Catherine asked as they approached the closed door.
“Of course not. Give me just a minute to get her.” Aubrey knocked on the door and stepped inside the room where he found two women he didn’t recognize and no sign of his wife. “I’m looking for my wife.”
“The Irish woman?”
“Yes,” Aubrey said through gritted teeth. “Have you seen her? She was here a few minutes ago.”
“I saw her heading for the main door as I came in. My friend commented on her lovely gown and how the right clothing can make anyone seem elegant.”
The rude comment raised his hackles, but he had no time to give the woman a dressing down when he had far greater concerns. He turned and left the room, still carrying the glass of water and bringing a growing feeling of desperation with him. Where would she have gone?
Derek and Catherine waited for him outside the room.
“She’s gone,” he told them.
“Gone where?” Derek asked, brows furrowed.
“I don’t know. One of the women said they saw her heading for the main door.”
“Let’s go,” Catherine said, gathering her skirts and taking off toward the front of the house.
Derek and Aubrey followed her.
Aubrey’s heart beat so fast, he worried he’d pass out from the overabundance of blood beating through his system. He just needed to find her and everything would be all right again. That’s all it would take. As they walked briskly through the crowd that had thinned somewhat now that everyone was in the ballroom, he scanned the landscape in front of him, seeking his wife’s distinctive shade of reddish-brown hair.
But he didn’t see her anywhere, and with every minute that passed, his concern intensified. She had felt ill when he left her. Had her condition worsened to the point that she had decided to leave? And why would she leave without telling him?
They rushed through the main door, and the footmen hopped to when they saw the duke and duchess.
“How may we assist you, Your Grace?” one of them asked.
“We are looking for Mr. Nelson’s wife, Maeve,” Derek said. “We heard she headed in this direction.”
“Mrs. Nelson departed about ten minutes ago.”
“Departed?” Aubrey asked, incredulous. “Where did she go?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but she didn’t say.”
“Did she take the carriage?”
“No, sir, she left on foot.”
The words were no sooner out of the other man’s mouth when Aubrey took off running, dropping the glass of water in the driveway in his haste to catch up to her.
“We’ll meet you back at the house,” Derek called after him.
Aubrey raised an arm in acknowledgment but didn’t slow down as he cleared the gates to the Russell estate and ran toward home as fast as he could. Thankfully, only half a mile separated the two estates, so it didn’t take him long to cover the distance. Wiggie and Kaiser came out of the house when they saw him coming.
“Mr. Nelson, is everything all right?” Wiggie asked.
“Is Mrs. Nelson here?”
“Neither Mrs. Nelson is in residence at the moment,” Kaiser said.
If he hadn’t been out of his mind with worry about where Maeve had gone, he would’ve been impressed with the politely worded response from the footman, who’d clearly been paying attention to the training Plumber had been doling out to the new staff.
Aubrey put his hands on his hips, attempting to catch his breath as he contemplated his next move.
“Will you have my horse brought around, please?’
“Of course, sir,” Wiggie said, taking off for the stables.
“Is everything all right, sir?” Kaiser asked.
“No.” Aubrey ran a hand through his hair as frustration and concern held him in their grip. “It’s not all right.” And if he couldn’t find her, nothing would ever be all right again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Like she had the last time she ran for her life, Maeve headed for the docks, hoping to book passage to somewhere far from Newport. Being on an island made it difficult to go anywhere other than the port. If she’d been on the mainland, she could’ve hopped aboard a train and headed west.
Here, she had but one option, and at this hour, the harbor was largely deserted, much to her dismay. What would she do if she couldn’t find a boat leaving tonight?
“What’s a fancy piece like yerself doing in these parts alone at night?” The raspy voice had her spinning to find the owner, a man hunched against a large brick building.
“I’m looking for a boat leaving tonight. Do you know of any?
”
“Anyone going is already long gone.”
Filled with despair, Maeve studied her surroundings, looking for an answer amid the brick buildings mired in fog rolling in off the harbor. A chill ran through her as a cramp seized her midsection.
“Help ya with somethin’, sis?” The raspy voice came from her right, and when she turned to look at the man, she immediately wished she hadn’t.
The man wore rags and leered at her with yellowy eyes, and when she caught a whiff of his foul breath, she nearly fainted. Stepping backward, she stumbled over a rock. Another man appeared out of the fog and stopped her from falling with a hand on her arm.
“Get out of here, Leon,” the second man said in a growl that sent goose bumps down her arms. “Can’t you see she’s quality?”
“She’s Irish,” the man named Leon said, sneering.
“She’s someone’s wife, and he’ll gut you if you so much as look at her.”
“And you’re so much better?”
“Get out of here, or I’ll gut you myself.”
Maeve wasn’t sure if the second man was an improvement over the first, but at least he didn’t smell like death warmed over.
“Are you all right, miss?” he asked after Leon slunk off into the mist.
“I . . . I don’t know.” The pain in her midsection required almost all of her attention as it intensified, coming and going in waves that left her feeling sweaty and nauseated.
“What’re you doing down here by yourself ?”
“I was hoping to book passage to Boston or New York.” She could always go to the captain’s wife who’d been so kind to her when she first arrived in America.
“There’s nothing leaving tonight. You should go home before something terrible happens.”
“I can’t go home.” She thought of Aubrey, wondered if he was worried about her, and blinked back the tears that filled her eyes.
“You can’t stay here. You won’t survive the night.” He released a deep sigh. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“Away from here. I live with my sister. We can put you up for the night. You will be safe with us. I promise.”
Since she had no alternative, and the pain in her abdomen was worsening with every passing minute, she decided to trust this man who had protected her and offered her shelter. If she was wrong about him, she would find a way to escape. She’d done it before, and she’d probably have to do it again.