Neil stared up, up to the battlements, suddenly understanding Evie’s reluctance to live in the place.
“What about the other wives?”
Tucker shook his head. “Bad luck plagued them all. The third one died in a riding accident, and the fourth after an extended illness. She all but wasted away in bed.”
Neil’s unease deepened. At that moment, he would have liked nothing better than to carry Louisa away from this house, but she was already too deeply embroiled in her role as lady of the manor for such a thing to occur.
“So what are you goin’ t’do, Cap’n?”
Neil inhaled, holding the air in his lungs before releasing it slowly. “I don’t know. But I think it’s time we hired some men to help us.”
“Y’think something’s going t’happen?”
“I don’t have any doubts.”
Neil had spoken the truth to Tucker. With each day that passed, his worry increased—and not just because of the aura of imminent danger that he could sense in the air around him. No, what worried him even more was that he was starting to believe Louisa might never consent to leave Boston and become his wife.
As he watched her overseeing the flower beds and the placement of rose bushes, it was clear that she was enjoying her life as a woman of society. She had every luxury that a woman could ask for—money, servants, fine clothing, good food. She had the pleasures of Boston a short drive away and the privacy of the walled Winslow estates when she wished to remain apart from the bustle of the world.
What could possibly entreat her to exchange everything for life on the frontier? And as comfortable as Neil’s house might be, it wasn’t a castle by any stretch of the imagination.
As for her possible pregnancy…
Was he three times a fool? With each day that passed, the thought of a baby worried him less, because he could no longer ignore the fact that he loved Louisa.
His lips twitched in the barest semblance of a smile as he watched her bend over a delicate peach-colored bloom. The silky texture of the rose paled compared to the beauty of Louisa’s skin. Indeed, he was sure that the blossom’s petals could never be as soft as Louisa’s cheek.
Resting his hand against the pillar of the porch, he admitted to himself that he was totally besotted. The emotion was completely new to him and even more disturbing because of its intensity. True, he’d enjoyed the company of women on more than one occasion. He’d even fancied himself in love once or twice. But now that he had experienced the true depth of caring, he realized that he’d never really known what it meant to be in love.
He had only to look at Louisa for his pulse to quicken. But more than that, he felt each of her emotions as his own. When she ached, he ached. When she laughed, he experienced her joy. He knew this woman and her character, in a way that went beyond outer trappings. He knew what gave her joy and what regrets lingered in her heart. She was a good woman, a caring individual. She had an infinite capacity to inspire the best in others…including himself.
If Louisa had encountered trouble in England and her virtue was compromised, Neil didn’t care. He would help her to see that the incident meant nothing to him. He would raise her child as his own.
A few evenings later, Louisa settled heavily onto the porch swing. Her body was weary and her head throbbed.
She’d had another trying day with Evie. The girl had alternated between being dazed and glassy-eyed, and violent.
Louisa rubbed her temples, wondering what had happened to make Evie so angry. Even the sight of her beloved doll hadn’t been able to calm her. Louisa had barely managed to save the toy from destruction.
She sighed. Unfortunately, a good many of the ironstone dishes hadn’t fared so well. Evie had nearly emptied the cupboards, smashing the stoneware onto the floor and throwing it against the walls before John had been able to restrain her.
Unfortunately, it was Evie’s latest outburst that had forced Louisa to concede to at least one of Beatrice’s suggestions. Tomorrow they would all move back into the castle. Once there, Louisa would have a full staff to help her with the girl—as well as a nursery suite, which had been updated and carefully furnished with Evie’s “special needs” in mind.
So why did Louisa feel as if she’d failed the girl? Why did she feel as if she were abandoning Evie?
Her only comfort lay in the fact that John had located a physician who specialized in “nervous ailments.” Louisa had arranged for him to examine Evie at the end of the week.
Pushing at the floorboards with her toe, Louisa set the swing in motion, hoping that the gentle swaying would ease the tension gripping her muscles.
As she pondered the upcoming doctor’s visit and her stepdaughter’s decline, Louisa decided that, come morning, she wouldn’t force Evie to take her tonic anymore. The new dosage only seemed to aggravate the girl—indeed, her newfound aggression could be directly linked to the hour preceding her next dose.
Several times, Louisa had noted that delaying the tonic caused Evie to grow more and more volatile and agitated. But on the other hand, her eyes lost their glassy sheen and she seemed to grow more coherent.
Perhaps the tonic no longer agreed with her. In any event, Louisa hoped the new doctor could offer some alternate methods of treatment.
As for herself, Louisa feared she was working too hard and worrying too much. Her nights had become sleepless and her body ached with weariness, despite her efforts to rest. But what concerned her most was her inability to concentrate. She felt as if she were moving in a fog, sleepwalking through her days and pacing the floor all night. Worse yet, her nervous stomach was a constant affliction. She was unable to eat anything more than the tiniest portions of bread or soup. If not for the calming effects of Beatrice’s hot chocolate, she didn’t know what she would have done. She was swiftly losing weight—so much so that she knew her physical state was attracting far too much attention from John Smith. She knew it was only a matter of time before he forced her to see a doctor herself.
Sighing deeply, she supposed that maybe she should see someone. Heaven only knew she hadn’t been feeling well since her arrival in America. If only…
Not for the first time, she wished there was someone to talk to. She had written at least a dozen letters to Phoebe, sending them to be mailed via one of the groomsmen, but she had yet to receive an answer. She would have given anything to have a friend to converse with. Even writing in her diary failed to clear her thoughts. More and more she discovered that she didn’t have the energy to put pen to paper—and her dreams of becoming a novelist had been put on the back burner.
Sadly, she realized that in severing her ties to her old life, she had not taken into account how much she would miss her correspondence with Neil Ballard. She had grown so used to pouring out her sorrows and triumphs on paper. She truly missed the comfort and advice that her friend had offered on countless occasions.
But he was lost to her now. She had chosen this life rather than the one he would have offered her.
“Problems?”
Her eyes flew open. John stood with his shoulder resting against one of the porch supports.
How long had he been there? How long had he been watching her?
She couldn’t bring herself to answer him.
“You look tired,” he said when the silence grew fraught with awareness.
“Yes. Yes, I’m tired. But that’s to be expected, I suppose. I spent most of the day getting the north wing of the castle ready so that we could move in tomorrow morning. It’s a good sign, I think. When I showed Evie where she would be staying, she actually grew excited about having a larger room and her own water closet.”
So why did Louisa feel as if she wanted to burst into tears?
“You’re doing too much, Louisa.”
She shook her head. “I’m not doing enough.”
“You can’t right years of injustices in a few weeks.”
Was that what he thought she was doing? Making things “right” for Evie?
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With a sigh, Louisa realized that he was correct. She felt a moral obligation to the girl. She wanted to erase Charles’s indifference and the years of abuse in the asylum. But would she ever really be able to do that?
“She’s my responsibility.”
“But she’s not your child.”
Louisa shrugged. “She may not be blood of my blood, but I already care deeply for her.”
“Why? Because you were commanded to oversee her future?”
“It’s more than that. This may have started because of the stipulations made in Charles’s will, but soon after meeting Evie I began to care for her.”
“But she isn’t your child,” John insisted again.
“Does that matter?” She bit her lip before whispering, “There was a time when I was sure that I would never marry and have children of my own. Now that I am experiencing the joys and tribulations of parenthood, I am discovering that there is nothing so wonderful—or so terrifying—as to have someone look to you for their every need.”
“So you like being a mother?”
Her smile was rueful. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
“And Evie is to be only the first of many?”
Louisa shrugged, wondering at the intent of his question. Was he suggesting that he…that they…that the two of them might one day have a child? Together? Or was he merely speaking rhetorically?
Suddenly too weary to deal with the complexities of the conversation, Louisa stood. “I’d best be retiring myself,” she murmured softly.
As she brushed past him, he offered silkily, “Yes, you’d better…or there’s no accounting for what might happen.”
Dearest Diary, We have moved back into the castle and I do not know how I am going to bear living here. The moment I stepped inside the door, I felt as if a heavy weight pressed into my chest.
The workmen have done remarkably well in the short amount of time they’ve had, but there is still so much for them to do. At least some of the mustiness has been banished by the cleaning. I…
I’m still not feeling well. What is happening to me? More than anything, I want to curl up in bed and sleep, but I can’t. Too many people are depending on me.
I still have not heard from Phoebe. I’m so worried. What is she doing now?
How, oh, how I sometimes wish that I could see Neil just once. How is he? If he were to know how I treated him, could he ever forgive me?
As Louisa settled her diary in her bureau and stood, she was suddenly overcome with a wave of dizziness.
Dear sweet heaven above, what was wrong with her? Sweat beaded her skin even as she was racked with chills.
Had she caught a bug? Or was it something more serious? Except for her nervous stomach, she’d rarely been ill.
As she struggled to catch her breath, she knew that she should seek medical attention as soon as possible, but she hesitated to do such a thing. Not because she feared doctors, but because she hated to show such a blatant sign of weakness.
Especially with Boyd nearby.
Boyd was clearly displeased at having the women move back into the castle, but he had yet to say anything. As Louisa and Beatrice lingered over hot cups of cocoa in the parlor, he’d entered the room, unaware of their presence until he’d come too far to gracefully retreat. Once he’d realized his mistake, he had glowered briefly at them both, then retrieved his newspaper, a cup of coffee and a handful of cookies, before retreating again, all without comment.
Louisa prayed that his actions meant a truce was imminent.
The waves of dizziness returned again. Closing her eyes, Louisa released the buttons of her bodice and stumbled in the direction of the balcony.
Air. She needed some air.
Her legs trembled as she stepped onto the balcony and reached for the wrought-iron balustrade. But as she rested her full weight against the railing, the moorings suddenly pulled free.
A scream ripped from her throat even as she clutched the iron with all her might. Sure that she was caught in the grips of a horrible nightmare, she watched as the world spun sickeningly. Then her arms felt as if they would be ripped from the sockets as the balcony grillwork slammed into the wall, being held in place by a single set of screws.
More screams ripped from her throat, and just when she thought she couldn’t hold on for another second, John appeared above her.
“Hold on, Louisa! Hold on!”
Sobbing, she clenched her teeth, using every last ounce of strength she could summon, until John’s strong hand grabbed her wrist.
She saw the muscles of his arm tremble and strain as he lifted her, inch by inch. Finally he hauled her back to safety with a rush that took her breath away.
For long moments, they clung to one another in panic and relief. Louisa wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, absorbing the frantic rhythm of his heart and the strident measure of his breathing.
What would she have done without him? He’d saved her life!
As their terror subsided, their awareness bloomed. Louisa didn’t know who made the first move or who surrendered. She only knew that in the space of a heartbeat, they were kissing, their embrace fierce, their emotions unfettered. When he reached for the rest of the buttons to her gown, she did not resist. Her own hands were trembling as she stripped his shirt from his shoulders.
When John drew her own bodice away, she felt the chill against the bare skin of her shoulders. She shuddered as his hands, large and callused, grazed her back, then slid down the length of her corset.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured into the hollow of her throat.
“No.”
“Yes, yes. I’ve never seen a woman so vibrant. So passionate, so loving, so seductive.”
Her laughter was rueful. “Then you’ve clearly been blinded by love.”
“No. I’m seeing clearly.” He drew back, framing her face in his hands. “You’ve changed me, Louisa.”
When she tried to shake her head, he kissed her again, then trailed his lips over her cheek, down the curve of her throat to the sensitive hollow between her collarbones.
“I’ve never felt like this with any other person before. It doesn’t even matter to me that you’re pregnant. I only know that I—”
Louisa’s blood turned to ice and the sensual spell that had filled her body with an enervating energy swiftly drained away.
Pregnant?
“Pregnant!” She uttered the word aloud.
When he straightened, she could only gape at him in horror.
John thought that she was pregnant?
Ice seemed to flow through her veins and she woodenly took a step back, then another and another until she’d put several yards between them.
“You think that I’m pregnant?”
His expression became guarded. “Aren’t you?”
“What would make you think such a thing?”
He waved a hand helplessly. “It’s the only explanation for the way you’re always huddled over the chamber pot.”
She stiffened in fury. “I can assure you there are many other reasons for my apparent malady, none of which will result in the birth of a child.”
Suddenly, the ramifications of his belief hit her like a slap in the face. Not only did John think she was a woman of loose character, he also believed that she had wed a man without informing her husband of her condition.
“Get out,” she said softly.
“Louisa, you have to understand—”
“I already understand more than I care to.” She shuddered as the full impact continued to seep into her consciousness. John was no better than any of the others. He’d judged her by her appearance and had decided that she was a wanton woman. Worse yet, she had fallen into his arms like a ripe apple.
“Leave my house. Now.”
“Louisa—”
When he tried to take her in his arms, she ran to her bedside table, removing the derringer that he had given her so long ago.
“I want you out of this house and off
my property within ten minutes or I’ll summon a constable. Whatever obligations you feel you had toward my husband are finished. If I catch sight of you ever again, I’ll have you charged, do you understand?”
“Damn it, you were nearly killed!”
She gave a scoffing laugh. “Don’t you dare turn an accident caused by the disrepair of this building into something for your own gain. I’m through with listening to you, do you hear? I don’t believe there ever was a threat against me—and frankly, if there is, I don’t care. I simply want you gone!”
He opened his mouth, clearly intent on arguing. But at the last moment, he apparently changed his mind. Turning on his heel, he strode from the room.
As soon as he was gone, Louisa sank to her knees, her body shaking convulsively. Dear sweet heaven above, was she forever doomed to being treated badly by men? Was there something in her character that made them think she could be so illused? Or that she could be so lacking in moral fiber? Was it merely the color of her hair? The fullness of her figure? Or was there something more, something buried deep in her character, something lacking in her spirit?
Heartache gripped her chest like a crushing vise. Sobs shook her body, making her sick and feverish and weak.
For the first time since coming to America, she actually regretted the fact that she hadn’t chosen a simpler life and married her childhood friend.
Chapter Nineteen
When Louisa awakened the following morning, she still didn’t feel well. The aches and pains she’d experienced for days had intensified. Added to that were the strained muscles in her shoulders and arms from having John pull her back through the window.
Shuddering, she tried not to remember her near-fatal accident. Today she would meet with the workmen and insist that each of the railings be tested thoroughly.
Sighing, Louisa forced herself to swing her legs over the side of the bed. Her head swam with dizziness and she was forced to sit hunched over until the sensation passed.
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