Adam's Promise

by Julianne MacLean

  The house had become astonishingly quiet after that.

  The sight of steam from the pot pulled Madeline from her thoughts, and she rose from her chair. As she carefully filled her bucket, she thought of Diana’s many complaints that morning, and compared them to the number of complaints Diana had voiced the few times Adam had visited with her to read to her or play cards.

  Whenever Adam walked into the room, Diana became perfectly demure and brave in the face of her pain. To be honest, it made Madeline angry enough to spit. Out of sheer agony, she would leave and hand her duties over to Hilary, for Madeline couldn’t bear to watch Diana fluttering her lashes at Adam, using all her accomplished skills to bewitch him.

  “Making soup?” said someone behind her.

  No, not someone. She could not pretend to think it was anyone other than Adam.

  Madeline straightened and faced him. His clothes were filthy with ground-in mud, his boots caked with it. He moved to the wash bucket to rinse his big, dirty hands.

  Madeline set the heavy bucket on the floor. “I’m taking hot water upstairs for Diana.”

  His ebony hair, pulled back in a loose queue and tied with a leather string, gleamed in the late-morning light. Madeline watched him from behind as he rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands and forearms, then reached for a cloth to dry them.

  He’d never looked stronger to her, more virile. She imagined him down on the marsh, thrusting a dyking spade into the tough earth with his big boot, using all his strength to haul sod.

  His intense eyes cut through the distance between them. He dropped the towel onto the worktable and strode toward her.

  She took an instinctive step back and realized uncomfortably that she had barely looked him in the eye since the morning after the accident, when she’d pulled away from him. They had hardly spoken a word to each other since. All they’d done was brush by each other on the way in and out of Diana’s room, or avoid speaking to each other at the dinner table. Madeline had slammed the door in his face six days ago and driven a sharp wedge into their friendship.

  Friendship? What kind of aberrant friendship was it? she wondered suddenly as he stopped before her, staring down at her in silence. Her heart was bouncing off her ribs!

  Adam was so close she could smell his musky scent. She bent to pick up her bucket.

  Adam touched her shoulder to stop her. “Don’t go.”

  Her heart jolted at the feel of his strong hand upon her. She could feel the heat of it through her clothes, and it distressed her in every possible way. “I have to. Diana is waiting.”

  “She can wait a little longer. You’ve been caring for her continually around the clock. Stay and have some tea.”

  Reluctantly Madeline surrendered. She moved to the hearth and poured the hot water back into the pot on the fire to keep it warm, while Adam spooned tea leaves into the teapot.

  The silence between them was excruciating.

  Madeline sat down, fumbling and grasping for some casual conversation. Anything would do.

  “Where is Penelope today?”

  “She’s at Jacob’s place, helping Mary with the baby. I believe that child is ready to be a mother, and she’s only eight.”

  “She’s a wonderful girl, Adam. You should be proud.”

  He gave her an appreciative look. Not that it mattered what kind of look it was. It was a look, an acknowledgment after days and days of disregard that she certainly deserved for being so cold and unfeeling toward him. Madeline felt her insides warm a little.

  “Were you able to save any of your hay crop?” Madeline asked.

  “None. But the profits from the herd we just drove to Halifax will keep the animals from starving over the winter.”

  “What about you and the children?”

  He poured water into the teapot. “The crops in the high fields survived, so we’ll have plenty to eat. We just won’t be making any luxury purchases.”

  “Thank goodness. What about the marsh? Will you be able to rebuild it?”

  “With hard work, yes. All the farmers have been doing their share, and we’ve already begun the repairs. The floodwaters are draining off. Now, it’s just a matter of maintenance over time.”

  They talked more about the marsh and the flood and what the future held, and were so deep in conversation, they didn’t hear Hilary descending the stairs. She walked into the kitchen and found Madeline and Adam sitting across from each other at the table.

  Hilary hesitated awkwardly in the doorway. “Begging your pardon, Miss Oxley. I don’t mean to interrupt, but Lady Thurston is waiting for her bathwater.”

  Madeline cleared her throat and stood. “Of course, it’s ready now. I just have to—”

  Adam interrupted. “Hilary, please tell Lady Thurston that Madeline requires a cup of tea, and that she will be up with the water after she’s had a moment to rest.”

  Hilary gazed with bewilderment at the two of them. She looked uncomfortable with delivering the message.

  Adam stood. “I’ll tell her myself if you like.”

  Madeline gazed at him in horror. “No, that’s not necessary. Hilary, tell Lady Thurston I will be right there.”

  She glanced back at Adam and saw his disappointment by the rise and fall of his chest. Hilary left the kitchen, and Madeline glared hotly at Adam. “Just what did you intend to tell her?”

  He sank back into his chair. “Nothing, Madeline. I was only going to tell her you were having tea. She wouldn’t have complained about it to me.”

  Madeline sighed with relief. She sat down.

  “Are you worried I’m going to tell her the truth before you think she’s ready?” Adam asked. “I have to admit, I’m tempted.”

  “Please, don’t. Wait a little longer, until she’s on her feet.”

  “Fine. I will wait until then.” His gaze lifted slowly to meet hers. “But what about after that? If you return to Yorkshire with her, will you stay there?”

  What was he getting at?

  “Adam, I thought we weren’t going to talk about this again.”

  “Why not? Have you no longings, Madeline? No desires? We’ve been ignoring each other for days now, and I’ve been forced to follow your lead, closing myself off to what I really feel and putting on a damn show for the rest of the world. What is it? Are you truly dead inside, or can I be optimistic and flatter myself by thinking that maybe someday, you might care for me just a little?”

  An unwelcome tension wrapped tightly around Madeline. “There is no point in hoping. It only sets us up for disappointment.”

  “Is that a fact? Well, I can’t help hoping. Nor can I stop wanting you.”

  She couldn’t believe he was being so open after six days of complete silence.

  He held the tea strainer over her cup and poured, then shoved her cup across the table toward her.

  Madeline kept her eyes on her tea. Her heart was racing inside her chest like a runaway stallion. No one before Adam had ever spoken so candidly to her before, with such intense, pent-up anger. Nor had anyone ever told her that they actually wanted her.

  Certainly not when Diana was within their grasp.

  “Diana might be an invalid,” she said, groping for words. “She might never walk again.”

  “She will not be an invalid. Those are excuses. I took you for more of an optimist than that.”

  Still Madeline would not look up. “I just want to be prepared for the worst.”

  He sat down. “Fine. I accept that. But if that’s the worst, and you go back to Yorkshire with her and see that she is settled in your family home, you would not have to stay there forever. She’ll have your father, and she has enough money to hire a nurse.”

  He shook his head. “It’s ridiculous to hypothesize such a thing—she will walk again. I’ve seen her leg—it’s still there. She’ll have a limp at the very worst. She’s still beautiful—she can move about in society and have a gripping story to entertain her acquaintances. It’s my guess she’ll have
every unmarried gentleman within a hundred miles standing in line for hours, begging to hear her tell it in her own charming, melodramatic words.”

  For the next few minutes, they sat in stiff silence while Madeline drank her tea. When she finished, she stood up to leave, for she didn’t know what else to say to Adam. She couldn’t change the way things were. Diana still loved him and wanted him, and Madeline—no matter how angry she was at her sister for how she had been treating her—could not kick her when she was down.

  Adam stood also. “Wait, you didn’t answer my question.”

  “What question?” Whatever it was, she feared it.

  “If Diana recovers and finds happiness—” his tone softened a bit “—will you consider returning to Cumberland?”

  The very idea that he was asking her filled Madeline with such yearning her whole being came alive. All her life, she had smothered her emotions, kept them quietly still within, but at this moment, they were thrashing about inside her, leaping to life, fighting to get out! She slowly turned to face him.

  Adam watched her briefly, then moved around the table that stood between them. He took her chin in his hand and lifted it, forcing her to look at him. “The other day, when you walked away from me, I was angry at you for shutting me out. I’m still angry at you for ignoring me every day since, but God help me, I burn for you and I can’t stop it.”

  “I had no choice,” she explained. “I’m sorry, Adam, but I can’t betray Diana, not when she is still so in love with you.”

  “Yet you will not let me tell her the truth to end it.”

  She gazed up at him imploringly, wishing he would release her, but release her from what? She was not his prisoner. He was not holding her captive. Adam merely held her chin in his hand. She could leave if she wanted to.

  Oh, but no…

  She was locked in his gaze.

  Suddenly he pulled her into his arms and pressed his mouth to hers. The feel of his moist, searing lips threw whiskey on the fire that had been simmering within her for weeks now. It burst into a roaring, raging blaze deep within. Her skin sizzled, and though she knew it was wrong, she couldn’t stop herself from reaching her arms around Adam’s neck and clutching him, finally allowing tears to spill over her cheeks.

  He held her whole face in his hands and devoured her mouth. Madeline had fantasized what it would be like to kiss Adam passionately like this, but never could she have guessed it would be anything quite so astounding—white-hot and liquid, a luscious, pounding pleasure. It was unknown territory. Any physical sensation she had ever known before paled in comparison to this staggering, overwhelming attack.

  She heard herself whimper, felt Adam’s fingers caressing the wisps of hair surrounding her face. His mouth was warm and wet and insistent. Soon she was swaying with a debilitating desire that pulled her closer to him until she was pressing her body against his, wanting to melt into him until they were one single thing. Indivisible. Seamless.

  The power of her emotions obliterated everything else. It was all so new to her.

  The sound of a door opening and closing upstairs yanked Madeline back into the physical world. Heart pounding, she pulled away from Adam and listened for Hilary returning.

  The house was quiet, though Madeline’s blood was rushing noisily in her ears like a raging waterfall.

  She gazed at Adam. His chest was heaving; he looked shaken. Agitated.

  “We took this too far,” she said.

  He closed his eyes, then slowly opened them. “Will you always put Diana’s feelings first, when she has never considered yours? You’re not her maid. You’re an independent woman. Don’t disguise what you’re doing as sisterly loyalty, Madeline. You’re really just afraid of caring for me because you don’t want to be hurt or rejected. You’re trying to make me think that you feel nothing for me, to drive me away, so you can leave easily without any regrets. But you can’t fool me. There is passion in you. I saw it just now, I felt it.”

  “Please, Adam, there is so much for me to work out.” She heard Hilary’s footsteps upstairs, returning to Diana’s room. “You don’t understand.”

  Madeline gazed up at the ceiling and thought of her sister and wished she could explain it to Adam. Yes, she and Diana had grown apart, but there was so much more to it than that.

  “I know that Diana seems cruel sometimes, but she is still my sister. When I was very young, she used to read to me. And when you came calling, she would tell me all the romantic things you said to her. She would comb my hair and tell me that one day, I would marry my own prince charming. I cannot forget that, Adam. She was all I had. I cling to those memories. I’m sorry.”

  Not knowing what else to say, she turned away from him.

  “Madeline,” he called after her. She stopped in the doorway but would not face him. “You’re wrong to cling to something that no longer exists. You’re not a child anymore.”

  His words burrowed deep into her consciousness. Benumbed by their sharp effect, all she could do was turn and hurry up the stairs.

  Adam stood in the kitchen doorway and watched Madeline wash the supper dishes with Penelope. He remembered all the things he and Madeline had said to each other earlier that day, and wished he had been able to say the one thing that would convince her to let go of the past. Maybe it was selfish of him, but what could he do? He wanted Madeline more than he’d ever wanted anyone, even Diana all those years ago. This was different. The need for Madeline was deeper. Truer. She was meant to be with him and he knew it as surely as he knew his own hand.

  I tasted the passion in your kiss, Adam thought with solid, angry certainty as his whole body grew hard with tension. You can’t pretend you are in control of your heart. At least not to me.

  Suddenly he felt a great need to ascertain Diana’s wellness, for so much depended upon her recovery. He quietly climbed the stairs and knocked on her door.

  “Come in!” Diana replied in a singsong voice.

  Adam entered. Hilary was seated at Diana’s bedside, but as soon as the maid saw him, she lowered the book she had been reading aloud.

  “Hilary, will you get us some tea please?” Diana asked in a polite voice.

  “Yes, my lady.” The young woman set the book on the tall chest of drawers and left the room.

  Adam moved to pick it up. “Clarissa, The History of a Young Lady. Samuel Richardson.”

  He experienced the draining effects of melancholy, reading the title, remembering the night he and Madeline had discussed books in his study. She had wanted to read this, but she had never gotten the chance. She had been too busy caring for his children and making his house a home.

  Diana shifted on the bed, sitting up straighter and fussing with her hair. “I sent Hilary downstairs for a book from your study. I hope you don’t mind. I told her to get the fattest one she could find.”

  He set the book down again. “She chose well, then.”

  “If I had known, however, that Clarissa would be confined to her room for the first five hundred pages, I might have instructed Hilary to choose something else, something more descriptive of the outdoors.” She smiled sweetly at him.

  Adam moved toward the bed and sat in the rocking chair beside it. “How are you feeling today?”

  “Much better, thank you. You are very kind to ask. My headaches have all but disappeared, and my leg—as long as I don’t move it too much—is almost free of pain.”

  “Well, that is indeed good news. Do you think you would like to come downstairs tomorrow? Jacob and I could help you. It might do you good to sit in the parlor and—”

  “Heavens, no. I’m not ready for that. My condition is still much too delicate.”

  He paused, feeling the effects of his hopes being cropped. “Well, I suppose that is to be expected. It’s only been a week. But look how far you’ve come. This time next week, I’m sure you’ll be ready to try and take a few steps.”

  “A few steps? Adam, you are much too confident. I can’t imagine getting ou
t of this bed for weeks yet! If I ever manage it at all! Quite frankly, I am afraid of it. I don’t want you to see me fall or limp.” She gazed morosely at the window. “What will become of me, Adam? I am no longer the beauty I once was.”

  They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. Adam wished Hilary would return with the tea.

  “How are you, Adam?” she asked.

  He knew with regret that she had expected him to hold her just then, or reassure her, tell her she was still as beautiful as ever. But he had not. He wondered what she was making of that.

  “How is your work coming on the marshlands?” It was the first time she had ever asked him anything about “work.” He was surprised she even managed to let the word pass her lips.

  Thankful for a safe topic, Adam began to describe the situation. He explained the breaks in the dykes, the repairs necessary, and how it would be a few years before the land would be productive again.

  “A few years? But that’s your livelihood.”

  “Yes, it is, I’m afraid, but all is not lost. The uplands were untouched, and we will have more than enough food to see us through the winter. We’ll simply have to forgo spending anything on luxuries.”

  He remembered telling Madeline the same thing that afternoon. Her reply had been a sigh of relief. She had said, “Thank goodness.”

  Diana was staring at him now, a look of bewilderment on her face. “You’ll have no spending money at all? Nothing?”

  “Nothing,” he answered flatly.

  She shifted uneasily on the bed again. “Well…I suppose there is my inheritance. That could tide us over, provide a cushion to meet our needs.”

  “We’ll be able to meet our needs. As I said, the crops are quite substantial and—”

  “People have other needs besides a full belly, Adam.” Her tone was condescending. “We must be able to entertain, or to purchase the occasional trinket.”

  He cleared his throat. “Lavish entertaining is not exactly a common pastime here in Cumberland, Diana. The people here are farmers. This is not high society. Perhaps Viscount Blackthorne’s visit gave you the wrong impression of how we live.”