by Sherry Lewis
“I have you to thank,” she said honestly.
Meg waved the compliment away. “Nonsense, Agatha. You have always been a beautiful woman.” She let her voice trail away, as if she had something more to say.
Shelby took a step closer. “But?”
“But. . . ” Meg brushed her hands on her apron and thought for a second or two. “Well, if I may be blunt, you haven’t always been interested in looking beautiful.”
“I know,” Shelby said with a soft laugh. “I’ve seen the pictures.” When Meg’s smile faded and confusion darted across her eyes, she added quickly, “What I mean is, I’ve seen the gowns in my wardrobe and I know how I’ve worn my hair in years past. I’ll admit it wasn’t exactly becoming.”
“Well, all that’s past you,” Meg said with a bob of her head. “And tonight, Zacharias will fall in love with you all over again.”
“I hope you’re right,” Shelby said softly, but the idea brought an unexpected pang with it. If Zacharias did fall in love with Agatha again, Shelby’s time here might be over. By the end of the evening, she might be back in her own body wearing jeans and a T-shirt instead of this incredible gown. She might be back at Winterhill as nothing more than a caretaker instead of mistress of this amazing house. She might be alone again, without Meg and Colin, without Zacharias—without anyone.
How odd that she would envy Agatha her life, when just three short weeks ago, she’d pitied her.
Meg picked up her spoon, then lowered it again slowly. “Oh, dear. Now you look sad. Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” Shelby assured her. “Not at all. I’m just nervous, I suppose.”
“Of course, you are. But the evening will be a success, Madame. I have no doubt of that. As long as the food turns out, that is.”
“That’s the one thing I have no worries about.” Shelby crossed the room and put a hand on her shoulder, then bent down and kissed the older woman’s cheek. “Thank you, Meg.”
Meg’s startled eyes flew to her face and a soft smile curved her mouth. She patted Shelby’s cheek with a gentle hand. “The change in you is a miracle, Agatha. I hope you stay exactly as you are tonight forever.”
Shelby laughed around the sudden lump that formed in her throat. “Then, you don’t think I’m crazy any longer?”
Meg’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “I never truly thought you were. And if you are, I hope you never regain your senses.”
Shelby laughed again, but the sound of the door opening behind her kept her from saying anything else. Colin appeared in the doorway, a stiff white collar framed his ruddy face and an elegant suit encased his husky body. “Begging your pardon, Madame,” he said with a formal bow, “but the first of your guests has arrived.”
Everything else faded and nervousness engulfed her. The moment had arrived, but could she really pull off this deception in front of others? What would she talk to her guests about? She clasped her hands in front of her, reminded herself that she’d already fooled those who knew Agatha best, and tried to tamp down the rising panic. “Who is it? The Englunds or the Baxters?”
“Neither, Madame.” Colin’s eyes glinted with mischief and his mouth twitched. “Master Zacharias is waiting for you in the library.”
“Zacharias.” A sigh of relief escaped her lips. A rush of anticipation followed it. “How does he look? Is he. . . Is he in a good mood?”
Colin grinned at her. “He looks quite dashing, if I may say so. And I’d say he’s a wee bit nervous.”
It was exactly what Shelby needed to hear. She could have kissed Colin for saying it. In fact, as she started across the room, she gave in to the urge and brushed a light kiss to his weathered cheek.
Colin looked every bit as startled as Meg had, but he recovered quickly. “Ye’ll do fine, lass. Meg’n I are with ye all the way. Remember that.”
Shelby hugged that thought to her as she crossed the entry and stepped into the parlor. Here, too, Meg had outdone herself. Crystal vases of white flowers filled the room with their perfume. The chandelier sparkled on the high ceiling and the antique brass candlesticks gleamed.
Zacharias stood near the fire, his face bare of the mask of impatience and frustration he usually wore. Shelby’s heart skipped a beat and her hands grew damp.
The instant he saw her, the shield slipped back into place and covered everything but his eyes. They roamed her face and body, lingering on the necklace at her throat and the jewels in her ears. They devoured her with a hunger that surprised and pleased her and filled her with a deep, answering warmth.
Somehow, she managed to find her voice. “Thank you for coming.”
“I felt it prudent.”
She tried not to laugh at the stiffness of his tone that seemed at such odds with the softness in his eyes. If he still needed to hold back, that was fine with her. At least she was making progress.
She crossed the room to him, enjoying the way his eyes darkened to a deep cobalt, the way his pulse jumped at his temple, the way his jaw clenched and unclenched as he tried not to show his feelings.
She lifted her gaze to his and held it, trying to still the rapid beating of her own heart. “I’m glad you’re here, for whatever reason.”
He smiled hesitantly and let his gaze drop to her neck, her bosom, then dragged it back to meet hers. “You look lovely, Agatha.”
As always, hearing him speak his wife’s name brought Shelby crashing back to earth in a hurry. But even that didn’t stop her mouth from drying, her skin from tingling, and her pulse from racing. It didn’t take away the slowly coiling heat inside her or make him any less attractive. But it did fill her with guilt for lying to him, for making him believe Agatha had changed, for giving him hope for a future she couldn’t guarantee.
The unthinkable had happened. She’d come here to save Agatha’s marriage, but she didn’t want to save it. She wanted Zacharias to fall in love with her, just as she’d fallen in love with him.
Finally relaxing slightly, Shelby led the women from the dining room into the drawing room. Dinner had gone without a hitch—at least without a hitch Zacharias couldn’t smooth over. Each time she’d faltered during conversation, he’d stepped in to save her, and she was more grateful than ever that he’d accepted her invitation.
Unfortunately, his kindness only made her feel worse about loving him. His tenderness toward Agatha, though sometimes well hidden, only proved how deeply he loved her. And the more apparent his love for Agatha became, the more confused Shelby grew. The softness in his eyes made her insides feel like melted butter at the same time it cut like a dagger in her heart. The touch of his hand sent sparks shooting through her at the same time it filled her with despair.
Caroline Baxter, a thin, dark-haired woman of about Agatha’s age with a soft voice and friendly smile, touched her sleeve and brought her back to the moment. “Will you play for us, Agatha?”
Shelby froze halfway to her seat, but the yards of silk and all the padding of her bustle pulled her the rest of the way with a whoosh! “Play?”
“The piano.” Caroline gestured toward the baby grand near the back windows. “You still play, don’t you?”
Sure, if you counted a rousing two-fingered rendition of Chopsticks. Shelby shook her head quickly. “No, I uh . . . I haven’t played in some time.”
“But you were always so talented,” Caroline protested. “Surely you could play a simple piece when the men rejoin us. I know how much Zacharias loves to hear you perform.”
Shelby laughed nervously. “No, really. I. . . I’ve forgotten—”
“Nonsense,” Lydia Englund said with a wave of her hand. “I don’t think one ever truly forgets. Something of Mozart’s, perhaps. Or Beethoven.”
Shelby shook her head again, harder this time. “I can’t. I—” She forced a weak smile. “I can’t. I’m afraid I don’t remember.” She watched the other women carefully. “I’ve recently suffered a loss of memory.”
Lydia’s green eyes filled with sympathy.
“I didn’t want to say anything about it, but that’s what I hear. How on earth did it happen?”
“Yes, do tell us.” Caroline leaned forward slightly. “I must admit I’ve been worried as well. If I’d thought you’d welcome a visitor, I’d have rushed here to be with you.”
Another set of conflicting emotions tore through Shelby. Unexpected tears filled her eyes. Their concern touched her deeply even as it made her angry with Agatha for turning her back on her friends. And the lies Shelby had to tell tasted bitter on her tongue. “I don’t know what happened,” she said softly. “I don’t remember.”
Lydia put a hand on top of hers. “Have you forgotten everything?”
“Everything.”
“But you know who you are—?”
“Well, yes. But—”
Caroline’s eyes looked suspiciously moist as well. “Do you remember anything of your childhood or of your parents?”
“No.” That was at least partially true.
Lydia waved her fan to stir the warm air. “It’s just so very sad. Dr. Messing said it didn’t seem that you’d had any injuries.”
“None that I know of,” Shelby admitted, then, as Lydia’s words hit her, she scowled and added, “But I haven’t even seen Dr. Messing, so how would he know?”
Caroline sat back in her seat, her smile suddenly gone and a slight frown in its place. “I would imagine Dr. Messing has been consulting with Victoria.”
“With Victoria?” Shelby looked from one to the other in disbelief. “But isn’t it unethical to discuss someone’s medical condition with others?”
“Victoria gets whatever she wants,” Lydia told her. “And if she wants to involve Dr. Messing, she will.”
“Involve him in what?”
Caroline glanced toward the doors as if she worried someone might overhear. “I hate to tell you this, but she visited me after I received your invitation.”
“Victoria did?” The dreadful old cow! Blood rushed to Shelby’s face and anger thumped heavily in her chest.
“She tried to convince me not to come tonight. She insinuated that you might be . . . dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Shelby couldn’t believe even Victoria would stoop so low. “In what way?”
“I believe she is trying to prove that you are unstable,” Lydia said gently. “I don’t want to upset you, Agatha, but if you aren’t careful, she may succeed.”
Shelby’s ears rang and the room tilted in front of her. “But I’m not crazy, and I’m certainly not dangerous.” Her fingers curled into fists in her lap. How was she expected to fix Agatha’s life if she had to battle her mother-in-law every step of the way? “Believe me, you’re perfectly safe.”
Caroline smiled slowly. “We know that. If either of us were even slightly worried, we wouldn’t be here. But, my dear, you must be on your guard at all times. Others won’t be so quick to agree with us. Victoria is a powerful woman in this town.”
“Maybe so, but I’m not about to let her railroad me into an insane asylum just so she can hand-pick Zacharias’s next wife.”
Lydia laughed, then clamped her lips together and glanced at the door. “I must say I’m glad to hear you say that. So, the first thing we must do to fight her is make certain that you’re at our ball next week. The more you hide away, the easier it will be for her to convince others.”
“She’s right.” Caroline said, tapping her fingers on the arm of her chair in agitation. “Your best defense is to return to society and let other people see you for themselves.”
Return to society? Face everyone at once? The thought nearly did Shelby in. She bit her lip and argued with herself for a moment. But she had no real choice. Frightening as it might be to walk into Hannibal society as Agatha, it would be worse to spend the rest of her life locked away.
She dragged up every ounce of courage she could find and nodded. “I’ll do it. And thank you . . . both of you. You have no idea how much your friendship means.”
Lydia beamed approval and her eyes sparkled as if she looked forward to the battle. “You’re not alone, Agatha. Remember that.”
Caroline gave Shelby’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “You do have friends.”
Shelby clutched her hand tightly. “I’m beginning to realize that. Please, accept my apology for being so distant in the past.”
“No apology necessary,” Caroline said. “All I want is for you to finally stand up to Victoria.”
Shelby took courage from their support, but she had the sick feeling she’d need all that and more. Seeing yet another portion of the life Agatha had turned away from left her even more determined to continue the battle. But she had just a little over a week left in which to win the war.
While Agatha bid good-night to her guests, Zacharias leaned against the mantle and watched her. She looked incredible. More than incredible, if the truth be told, and with every passing moment the scales tipped a bit further in favor of a complete reconciliation.
It wasn’t only the way she looked. She’d behaved perfectly all evening, smiling at her guests, listening to their stories as if nothing interested her more, treating each one as if they were the center of the universe. If his mother could see her now, even she’d have to relent.
Her laughter floated toward him, the soft sound of her voice wrapped itself around him, and her scent lingered in the parlor. He resisted the urge to join her at the door and contented himself with waiting. He’d made a statement just by being here. He needn’t go overboard. But it took a considerable amount of effort to keep himself in place.
When the last of the guests departed and Colin closed the door behind them, she turned back to face Zacharias wearing a smile so genuine, another piece of reluctance fell away. At this rate, he’d be on his knees to her within the week, begging her once again to forgive him.
While he watched in amazement, she lifted the hem of her skirt, kicked off the slippers she wore, and wriggled her toes, sighing as if nothing had ever felt so good.
Stunned, he averted his gaze away from her ankles, away from the simple gesture of pleasure the old Agatha would have abhorred. But the pull was too strong and he found himself watching her again.
She kicked the slippers out of the way, sending one beneath a chair and lowered her skirt to the floor again. “I think tonight went well. What did you think?”
He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I think it went quite well.”
Her smile grew even wider and her eyes sparkled with delight. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you did for me during the evening. Without you, I would have fallen flat on my face.”
He battled a smile. “As I said before, it seemed prudent for me to be here.”
“Prudent?” She tilted her head and grinned at him. “Is that all, Zacharias? Is that the only reason you came?”
He tried like hell not to respond to her teasing smile. “What other reason would you like me to give?”
His stiff tone seemed to have no effect at all. Her smile grew even more coquettish. “I’d like you to say you’re here because you still feel something for me.”
He was reluctant to admit that, no matter how true it was. “I feel a tremendous sense of responsibility.”
She moved closer and held his gaze. Her skirts rustled and the breeze carried her scent the rest of the way. “Nothing else?”
In spite of his efforts to maintain his dignity, his voice came out gruff with longing. But he would not give into the temptation to kiss her again. “What else would you like me to feel?”
“I’d like you to say you still care for me.” She touched his sleeve, a gentle touch that made him weak in the knees.
He closed his eyes, as if he could block out the rest of his senses that way. “Agatha—”
“Zacharias. Look at me.”
He did as she asked—not because he wanted to, but because he was powerless to resist.
“It’s time for this madness between us to stop.”
He
tried quirking an eyebrow. Tried to keep his wits about him. “By that, I assume you mean this madness of your design.”
She scowled, but there was no anger in her expression. “Would you stop being so tough? Can’t we just put the past behind us and move on?”
He’d give anything to do that, but there was still no guarantee that she wouldn’t remember everything someday, that she wouldn’t hate him again, that the twins wouldn’t suffer as a result.
“I came to your dinner party,” he said, “but I can’t promise anything beyond that.”
She let out a sigh of resignation and turned away. “Speaking of my dinner party, did you know that your mother tried to talk my guests into refusing my invitation tonight?”
The abrupt change of subject caught him unaware. “How do you know that?”
“Lydia and Caroline told me.” Agatha looked over her shoulder and held his gaze for a heart-stopping moment. “Did you know she’s trying to have the doctor declare me insane?”
Zacharias shook his head quickly, trying to convince himself, perhaps, more than Agatha. “She talks about it, but she wouldn’t dare try.”
“She is trying,” Agatha insisted, and the sadness in her eyes tugged at his heart and conscience. “She told Lydia and Caroline not to accept my invitation because I might be dangerous.”
Zacharias closed his eyes for a moment, disheartened by this latest bit of news. “I thought she’d confined her outbursts to me.”
“Apparently not.” Agatha moved a step closer and her scent threatened what was left of his self-control. “So, you knew she felt this way?”
“She has expressed doubts.”
“Doubts? She wants to have me committed, Zacharias. She’s already trying to convince people that I’m crazy. I think that qualifies as more than a doubt.”
He bit back an angry oath and ran a hand over his face. “If you’re angry, Agatha, be angry with me. I’ve ignored her destructive nature for too long.”
“I don’t want to be angry with you, but I do want you to stand up for me.”
She had no idea how often he’d done that already, and he had no intention of telling her.