"Thank you, but I can handle it."
"For God's sake, Felicity, let me help. I won't tell anybody what I see."
She looked up, her expression that of a person whose most fearful secret has been dragged out into the open.
"Don't look so surprised. I know why you've been trying to get rid of me ever since I got here. You've been afraid to let anyone know your secret. You've kept everyone at a distance. Why did you think we would betray you? Why did you think we wouldn't understand?"
"You didn't."
"Not at first, but I changed after I understood the situation better. So will the others. You've got to be bone tired, not to mention exhausted from worrying. Your friends would like to help. You need time to relax and enjoy yourself, to think of yourself first, to remember you're a young and attractive woman. That's part of the reason Mrs. Bennett volunteered to sit with your father. She likes him, and she wanted to give you a chance to have a few hours to yourself. That's part of the reason Charlotte invited you to the party and I insisted you go with me."
"Is that why you kissed me last night--to help me believe I was still young and attractive? You should have known that wouldn't work. I've seen Vivian."
"Last night had nothing to do with Vivian."
"That's what I thought. We're so different, you don't even see us as belonging in the same picture."
"That's not what I meant."
"Vivian is the beautiful, charming creature you put on a pedestal and want for your own. I'm the doctor's very ordinary old-maid daughter who needs cheering up once in a while. You figured a few kisses ought to do the trick."
Holt had been feeling guilty about kissing Felicity the night before. The kisses had unleashed a passion in him so strong, so different from anything he'd ever experienced, it shocked him. He realized they had had very much the same effect on Felicity.
"I know you're upset over your father, but that's no reason to come up with such a ridiculous--"
"Now I'm ridiculous--probably hysterical as well."
"You're neither, but you're very upset, and it's affecting your thinking."
"It is not affecting my thinking. I'm a rational woman who's always been able to handle herself under any circumstances."
"And you probably could handle your father being ill if that were the only thing bothering you."
"There's nothing else."
"There's last night."
"Last night was a mistake."
"Then why is it bothering you?"
Felicity took a deep breath as though calming her nerves--or steeling them in preparation for something unpleasant. "You don't know what I feel about last night."
"Then tell me."
"No."
"Then I'll tell you what I feel."
"My father is waking up. I don't have time to listen."
"It won't take long. I feel confused. I thought I knew what love was, but I never felt for Vivian what I felt for you last night. Then when you asked me if I'd ever kissed her, I realized I never wanted to kiss her the way I kissed you. Like I want to kiss you again."
"It's never going to happen again."
"You want to kiss me again."
"No, I don't."
"You think you don't because you're afraid. I won't kiss you again until I get some things straight in my mind. But I will kiss you again, and you're going to want me to do it."
He didn't know why he said that. He'd spent half the night telling himself he'd make sure it didn't happen again. Now he'd just promised Felicity that it would. She'd probably kick him out of the house before supper.
The doctor was regaining consciousness, so they didn't have an opportunity to ask the questions that hung in the air between them. Holt decided that was probably best. They each had a lot to think about before they took the next step.
He already knew there would be a next step.
"You've been avoiding me," Holt said to Felicity.
"How could I? Except when you visit patients, we've been in this house together for four days."
"You know what I mean."
She did, and she intended to make sure she didn't end up alone with him. Holt wanted to talk to her, but she knew he couldn't have anything to say that she wanted to hear.
"Take a walk with me," he said.
"I can't leave Mrs. Bennett alone with Papa."
"Of course you can. He's happier with her than with us. You need to get out of the house, do something completely different."
"Such as listen to your explanation of what happened in Papa's bedroom?"
"Why are you afraid to use the word kiss?"
"Because a kiss is different from what happened between us."
"There can be all kinds of reasons for a kiss, but a kiss is still a kiss."
"We obviously don't have the same definition."
"Tell me yours."
"It won't make any difference."
"Try me."
She might as well get it over with. She knew they had to talk, but she'd hoped it would be later, when her mind and heart were more in agreement, but maybe it was better to get it over with now. Once things were settled, she ought to be able to regain her peace of mind.
"Okay," she said.
"Let's walk. The exercise will do you good."
Holt steered her toward the beach several blocks away. The night air was cool and humid. She expected they'd have rain before morning. The moon was so bright, the grass and trees seemed to shimmer in its cool, white light. The tree frogs were making a terrible racket, another indication that rain was on the way.
They didn't speak at first, just walked together. They passed a few people, but as they came closer to the beach where the houses were farther apart, they had the pathway to themselves.
"Do you come to the beach often?" Holt asked.
"I don't like being away from the house so long." Beaches were for lovers, families with young children, or old folks with time on their hands. She didn't fit into any of those categories.
"I grew up far from the sea. It's always held a fascination for me," he said.
Having reached the end of the road, they followed a path through the stunted oaks and sea grass until they reached a bench someone had built on a small dune.
"Let's sit for a bit," Felicity said. "It's very peaceful," she said after they had both seated themselves. "It's hard to believe the sea can turn into a monster during a storm."
Waves of barely six inches kissed the shore before flowing slowly back to be swallowed up by the next surge. Sand crabs, acting very much like children, ran along the beach, retreating before the incoming wave, then racing forward to search for bits of food. The muted sound of the surf and the soft night air helped to unravel some of the knots inside her. Maybe she should come down to the shore more often. She hadn't felt so relaxed in a long time.
But sitting there enjoying the moonlight and the cool breeze wasn't clearing away the confusion between them. "What are you going to do when Papa is better and doesn't need you anymore?" she asked.
"I haven't thought that far ahead," Holt said. "I can still learn a lot working with him."
"You haven't asked my opinion, but I think you ought to leave as soon as you can. Not because I want to get rid of you. You ought to go back to Virginia and set up a medical practice there. You were born to be a doctor."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you love it just as much as Papa. I see you together, talking, consulting, looking up answers in his books, and you're completely engrossed. You can do it for hours. If I didn't run them out, you'd keep your patients twice as long as necessary. I never saw anybody so thorough or conscientious."
"I'm just trying to do the best I can. Any doctor would."
"No, they wouldn't. You do it because you love what you do, love your patients, love learning. Papa and I have talked about it. He agrees."
Holt stared off into the distance. The moonlight reflected on the water.
"I know you've been trying
to decide what to do with yourself. Perhaps you even consider yourself a failure."
"I hated being a surgeon."
"You don't hate medicine. You hate seeing people die. You love making people well. I know you don't think so right now, but you'll never be happy if you do something else. You didn't succeed at those other things because they weren't right for you."
He still didn't answer.
"Will you think about what I said?"
"Why don't you want me to stay here if I decide to remain in medicine? Your father and I complement each other."
"I don't want Papa to start depending on you. There's not enough work here to support two doctors--certainly not one who has a society wife to provide for. I don't know any dress shops that would accept a side of bacon as partial payment for a gown."
Silence.
"Have you asked Vivian to marry you?"
"No."
"Does she know you want to marry her?"
"She has known since she was sixteen."
"If I was in love with a man, I'd never marry anyone else. If he didn't come back, I'd follow him."
"The war was coming. I expect she was afraid."
Felicity didn't find that an adequate reason. She knew sixteen-year-old women who had been left to take care of farms while their husbands were away, some of whom didn't come back. Only a spoiled, pampered beauty would be afraid when she was the ward of a rich plantation owner.
"How old is her son?"
"Five."
"What's he like?"
"He's a handsome boy but very quiet. Vivian says he takes after his father."
"Do you like him?"
"Yes."
"Do you want children?"
"Yes."
"Does Vivian?"
"I don't know."
From what she'd seen, Vivian didn't appear very maternal. Felicity was certain Vivian wouldn't enjoy losing her figure and having to remained confined for months on end.
"You could move to the fashionable part of town. They don't have a good doctor. At the rate Galveston's growing, you could soon be a rich man."
"I'm happy where I am."
"Well, you can't stay, so you have to find someplace to go."
"Maybe I'll move back to Mrs. Bennett's."
Felicity whipped around to face him. "I've already told you there isn't enough work to support two doctors. You have to leave, Holt. There's nothing for you here."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
She hoped he would believe her and leave. He might like her and want to kiss her often, but Vivian had become enshrined in his mind years ago and nothing could dislodge her. It was possible that Vivian wouldn't marry him, that he would ultimately marry someone else, but there would always be three people in that marriage. Felicity knew she couldn't live like that. She had known for several days now that she wanted to marry Holt, but she knew just as positively that she had to have all his heart or do without it altogether.
She stood. "It's time to start back."
"We've hardly been here five minutes."
"There's nothing more to say."
"You're wrong. We haven't even begun to say the things that need to be said, that we must say to each other. But this isn't the time. There are things that need to be done first."
"Holt, I don't know what you're talking about, but--"
His arms were around her so quickly she was lost before she even had a chance to resist.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, but you're afraid to admit it. Well, I'm not. I've got some things I have to straighten out, but I'm not afraid. I don't care about being rich. I don't care who likes me or who doesn't. But I do care about you and your father. I've also got to do something about Vivian being involved with Laveau. It's an ugly knot. I don't know how to unravel it yet, but I will. And when I do, we're going to talk in a way you can't ignore."
Then he kissed her.
Chapter Twenty-one
No warning, no invitation, no chance to refuse. Crushing her to him, he pressed his mouth to hers. His mouth covered hers hungrily, but this kiss was nothing like before. This kiss was punishing and angry, demanding rather than asking, taking rather than waiting to be given, hard rather than gentle, passionate rather than sensual. It was as if a smoldering heat somewhere deep inside Holt had burst forth without warning to consume him, to make him dominate her in a way he had never attempted before.
Holt's fierce energy fueled her own anger. She resented that she couldn't have what she wanted. The fulfilment of her dream seemed so close yet unquestionably out of reach that she wanted to strike out at someone. She was angry he would treat her so roughly despite her repeated wish to be left alone. But rather than hit him or attempt to break from his embrace--the choices any sensible woman would have made--she found herself returning his kisses with equal ferocity.
She couldn't explain why she should choose that method to punish him, but it seemed the only way to erase the terrible pain that burned in her chest somewhere just behind her heart. The harder she kissed him, the deeper her fingers sank into the flesh of his arms, the more she wanted to punish him. It was his fault she had fallen in love with a man who was in love with another woman. It was his fault he had shown her what life could be like when loved and protected by a man stronger than the troubles that surrounded her. It was his fault nothing in her life would ever be the same again.
So she punished him still more, kissing him harder, forcing her tongue into his mouth until she had ravished every corner, every secret chamber. In a show of strength, she pressed her body hard against him, forcing him to press back just as hard. She refused to be intimidated by the strength of his arms or the power of his thighs as they pressed against her with what under any other circumstances would have been daunting intimacy. She would not yield.
Holt broke the kiss as abruptly as he began, his eyes wide with surprise. "I thought you didn't want me."
"I don't, but I refuse to let you think you have only to kiss me and I will fall into your arms."
She didn't like the smile that began to curve his lips. She hated it when somebody knew something she didn't, but that was exactly what it looked like.
"I always thought you were one tough woman."
She wasn't sure she wouldn't rather have been spoiled and soft like Vivian, but she hadn't been given that choice. "I am. I got along before you came. I'll get along just fine after you're gone."
"You can't wait to get rid of me, can you?"
Something was wrong. She didn't know what was going through his mind, but she couldn't think of any scenario that would account for his smile. "If you have to go, I don't see any reason to postpone it. It would just make things harder in the end."
"And what am I supposed to do?"
"Go to Vivian. That's why you came to Texas, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's why I came. And you're right. I do have to go to Vivian."
It was obvious Vivian was still angry with Holt. She paced the room like a caged animal, the material of her silk skirts and stiff petticoats rustling noisily as she executed sharp turns around furniture, the heels of her slippers alternating between dull thuds and loud clumps as she moved back and forth between carpeted and wood floors. The room was sparsely furnished, but the appointments were expensive and in good taste.
"You can't expect me to sit at home waiting for you," she said angrily.
"I just said you must have a very busy social life, since it took four trips to find you at home."
"You sound like you disapprove."
"It's not up to me to approve or disapprove of anything you do. It's your life, not mine."
Holt had finally realized that as much as he felt responsible for Vivian, he had no right to tell her what to do. Or criticize anything she did. He was surprised how relieved he felt.
Vivian eyed him with suspicion. "That's not what you used to say."
"You were young, and I fell into the habit of thinking of myself as your adviser
. You're a grown woman now, a mother. What you do with your life is up to you."
"You used to think yourself more than a guardian."
"You mean I was besotted with you," Holt said with a laugh that came with surprising ease. "I thought you were the most beautiful creature ever created. I couldn't think of any better fate than to take care of you for the rest of my life."
"And you don't want to take care of me now?"
She was flirting now, not as overtly as she did with her callow admirers, but with an intimacy that could only exist between two people who'd known each other a long time. Only Holt hadn't known Vivian at all. He'd allowed her beauty to spur his imagination to create a woman so close to perfect as to be inhuman. But that kiss in Felicity's father's bedroom had opened his eyes to things he must have been a fool to miss.
"I still want you to be safe and happy," he said. "I always will. You're one of my oldest friends."
"You make me sound like an old woman," she said with asperity.
"Sit down and stop pacing. You make me feel tired."
"You wouldn't if you hadn't been playing nursemaid for the last week."
He used to laugh with her when she made comments like that. And when he couldn't laugh he blamed her lack of understanding on her youth. Now he couldn't do either.
"Dr. Moore is going through alcohol withdrawal. I couldn't leave him to do it alone."
"He has a daughter to look after him."
"I want to help. They're important to me."
He thought she was going to pout. He used to tease her, make jokes, keep talking until he prodded her into sunny spirits again. Today he felt impatient.
After a moment, she sighed and said with only a slight pout, "Let's not talk about them anymore. You've got to come out of hiding. There are dozens of people who want to meet you."
"I'm sure Laveau diViere isn't one of them."
Her expression changed to mulish stubbornness. "You're not going to tell me again he's a traitor, are you?"
"It's true."
"I told you nobody cares about that anymore."
"He works for the Reconstruction. I doubt most Texans trust him."
"He has friends all over Galveston."
"I'm sure he does, but Laveau is a liar and a thief as well as a traitor. He tried to kill one of my friends while he slept. Just last year he shot two men while trying to rob a bank. I heard some talk about blackmail. I've recently heard of some thefts. It wouldn't surprise me if Laveau is involved. He's done both before." Holt would continue going to parties if it would help him catch Laveau. He was certain Laveau was involved in the blackmail. He needed to protect Vivian as much as he wanted to find evidence he could use against Laveau. "You've got to stop seeing Laveau. Someday he'll hang."
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