Juliette stood motionless in the pretty guestroom at Fleming Farm. Decorated in shades of blue toile, the light and airy room overlooked the green fields where horses grazed. Cool and lovely with a slightly sea-scented breeze wafting through the large open windows, the room had a large canopy bed and elegant yet simple furnishings.
Still she could not move, filled with a mounting sense of dread. It had been a mistake to come here. Jeffrey’s impulsive plan to visit Harrison and have a seashore adventure seemed like a good idea while she was still in New York. She had to admit that she had a secret longing to see Harrison again and Jeffrey was providing her with the perfect opportunity, because she never would have ventured to see him on her own. But now she was filled with regrets.
Harrison was not in the least bit happy to see her and had acted cold and distant with her. How odd to see him and not have him hug her or kiss her.
She should not have come, for she was obviously not welcome.
Now she found herself not quite at the seashore as she expected, but in a house in the country with fields, woods, gardens, and horses grazing all around. The area was so lush with greenery it wasn’t to be believed. The scenic boat ride there was a refreshing change from the noise and dirt of the city. She was more of a city girl than she had imagined, having spent her whole life in London and this country surprised her. As did Harrison’s house. It was enormous and quite beautiful and very modern. It seemed odd that he lived here alone, except for his sister Melissa.
Juliette wondered how ill the girl was and if they would have a chance to meet her.
She slowly wandered around the elegant bedroom.
Seeing Harrison had been more difficult than she had imagined. She had wanted to run to him. She wanted to fling her arms around him and kiss him as she had done so freely aboard the Sea Minx. She wanted him to hold her close to his chest. She wanted him to show some happiness to see her. Instead, he looked almost sad. And very tired. And he had seemed most displeased to have her in his living room.
She flung herself atop the large canopied bed, feeling the soft down mattress beneath her. Pressing her hands to her temples she closed her eyes tightly in an attempt to block out that long look they shared when he first saw her. His eyes had seemed so shuttered and cold. She could not detect an ounce of warmth in them or a glimpse of the man whose bed she had shared only a week ago.
When she was on his ship, she had felt very sophisticated and modern about her involvement with Harrison. She had not a care for the future. She was sharing a man’s bed with no thought of marriage and she enjoyed each moment as it came. She had felt so safe and loved in Harrison’s arms and nothing else seemed to matter. They seemed suspended in time in the middle of the ocean where society’s mores and dictates and judgments of women did not matter. She had been free and independent.
Now she did not feel sophisticated, or modern, or like one of those liberated women who took lovers at all. Now she just felt an aching loneliness in her heart and a burning sense of shame. Perhaps society knew best after all. Perhaps all those rules were there for a reason, that reason being to protect women. Was that why intimate relations with a man without marriage were so frowned upon, because female hearts were too easily wounded?
Juliette suddenly sat up on the bed.
Was her heart wounded?
Had she allowed Harrison into her heart enough to be hurt?
If that were true, could that mean that she was in love with Harrison? She was not entirely sure. She did not want to be in love with him. She wished desperately and not for the first time, that she could confide in Colette. Her sister would know what to do.
Juliette had received one letter from Colette since she arrived in New York, which was mailed to Christina Dunbar’s address as soon as she left Devon House. Seeing her sister’s neat and elegant handwriting had brought tears to Juliette’s eyes. Colette had not scolded her, only writing to enquire if she had arrived safely and to please let them know as soon as possible that she was safe. Juliette had written back immediately. She wanted her sisters to know that she had enjoyed her journey immensely, describing her adventures at sea in great detail, but omitting the intimate nature of her relationship with Harrison. She told them news of Christina and her husband and waxed poetic about New York City. She assured Colette that she was quite safe.
But was she really safe?
Here she was, in a strange house a world away from all that she had ever known with a man who—a man who—what? Hurt her? No, Juliette, could not in all honesty say that Harrison had hurt her in anyway. Yet she felt hurt. Terribly hurt. And the worst part was she did not know why.
Harrison had acted the gentleman and had offered to marry her. She had turned him down.
Because she did not want to marry him.
Juliette did not wish to marry anyone. Not yet anyway. But she supposed if she had to choose a husband, she just might choose someone like Harrison Fleming. He possessed many qualities she found attractive in a man. He was strong and handsome, and he did not judge her or seem to care for the rules of society any more than she did. In fact, Harrison seemed to make his own rules. He had worked his way up from nothing to become successful and quite wealthy, judging from his home on Fifth Avenue and his estate here. He provided for his family. He was a good man, who took care of his younger siblings, including his ill sister. Yet he was adventurous and exciting. She never felt bored or suffocated when she was with him. They could argue heatedly yet still end up kissing passionately. And there was that other part of their relationship. When Harrison kissed her she came alive.
She found herself wondering which bedroom belonged to Harrison.
A light knock on her door reminded her that she was supposed to be getting ready for dinner. A young maid entered at Juliette’s instruction, and a male servant carried in her trunk full of clothes, and again she blessed Christina for giving her a ready made wardrobe and a trunk to pack it all in! Mrs. O’Neil had been true to her word and had sent someone back to the dock to pick up their trunks. The maid, who introduced herself as Lucy, began to unpack Juliette’s borrowed clothing.
Juliette chose a simple yet lovely gown of sapphire silk and, with Lucy’s help, piled her hair upon her head. Taking a deep breath, she left the safety of her room.
Juliette made her way along the hallway and down the main staircase, a wide, two tiered landing with an immense glass window. Moving along a corridor, she had the feeling that she had gone in the wrong direction. She was about to turn around when she heard the murmur of voices. She took a step or two closer to the sounds coming from behind a closed door.
Someone was singing. A man. It sounded like a lullaby of sorts but she was unable to make out the words. Suddenly it occurred to her that she was acting as if she were her sister Paulette, who was notorious for listening behind closed doors to other people’s private conversations. Juliette hated eavesdropping. Just as she turned, the door opened and out stepped Harrison. He almost tripped over her.
He seemed just as startled to see her as she was to see him.
He snapped angrily, “What are you doing here?”
Had Harrison been the one singing? If so, whom had he been singing to?
Juliette stammered, feeling terrible for being caught eavesdropping. “I went the wrong way…I was going to the dining room, but…then I heard singing…I wasn’t listening I just…” Her voice trailed off to nothingness and she simply looked up at him.
She had quite forgotten how tall he was. And how nice he smelled. He was dressed for dinner in an elegant black jacket. His golden blonde hair was neatly combed back from his face. He looked impossibly handsome, even with a scowl on his face.
“The dining room is in the opposite direction.”
“Thank you.”
They both stood in the dim light of the hallway. Neither moved. Neither said another word. They gazed at each other. Juliette could barely breathe. He stood so close, she could reach out her hand and caress his cheek. She wanted to kiss
him, but wished he would kiss her. She waited in silence, pleading with her eyes for him to pull her into his arms and kiss her.
“Let’s go,” he mumbled as he took her by the arm. “The dining room is this way.”
Startled by his roughness she held on tightly as she walked quickly to keep up with him, blinking rapidly the whole time. Inside she felt like crying. Harrison did not smile or seem happy to see her. He did not kiss her when he had the opportunity to do so. He no longer desired her. She followed him across the house until they entered the elegant dining room.
“I was wondering where the two of you were.” Jeffrey gave them a curious glance as he entered from the adjoining sitting room. “I thought I would end up dining by myself.”
“I got lost,” Juliette explained. Not wanting Harrison to think that she was hurt she added breezily, “We would never leave you to eat alone, Jeffrey dear.” The lightness in her voice surprised her.
“I apologize for keeping you waiting,” Harrison said as they took their seats.
A chandelier glittering with crystals hung over the center of the table, which was set with fine white china, edged in gold. The walls were painted a rich crimson giving the room an intimate feel. The glass doors that led to a slate patio outside were open wide to let in the cool evening air and the sweet scent of honeysuckle wafted into the room. Fireflies lit up the growing darkness; their tiny bursts of golden light pinpointing the night sky.
Juliette sat on Harrison’s right and Jeffrey sat across from her. Quite surprised by the formality of Harrison’s house, she tried to remain calm with him so near to her. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Still confused by their strange encounter in the hallway, she wondered again what had been going on in that room?
The three of them dined on deliciously prepared local seafood, while Jeffrey recounted their recent outing in New York.
“I have always enjoyed visiting this city,” Jeffrey said. “There is a vitality to it that I have never encountered anywhere else before.”
“It’s quite different from London,” Juliette agreed.
“It’s nice that you were able to do a little touring,” Harrison said, his voice clipped.
Juliette added, “We had lunch at Delmonico’s too.”
“That’s one of my favorites.” Harrison smiled, seeming to relax a little. “How was the trip on the Sea Bird?”
“It was lovely,” Juliette answered. “It’s so pretty here.”
They were barely through with the second course when a shrill, feminine scream ripped through the house, followed immediately by a series of sharp, anguished cries and the unmistakable sound of breaking glass.
Harrison dropped his fork on his plate with a clatter and pushed back his chair with such force that it tipped over backwards and crashed to the floor. Without a word he raced from the dining room. The sounds of more shattering glass, followed by tormented screams and shrieks echoed through the house. Hurried footsteps and frantic shouts could be heard as well. Juliette and Jeffrey stared at each other, not sure what to do.
“Good lord, what is going on?” Jeffrey asked, a worried expression on his face. “Should we go and offer help?”
Juliette nodded, unable to say a word. She had a feeling she knew where the terrible noises were coming from. With her heart pounding, she exited the dining room with Jeffrey and headed down the hallway she had been lost in earlier, moving toward the growing din. Outside the door she had been caught eavesdropping behind less than an hour before, Mrs. O’Neil and few other servants huddled together. She peered over their shoulders.
The horrific scene within frightened her.
Harrison stood before a blood-splattered woman, her long blond hair tinged with red. This had to be Melissa. Juliette recognized the hysterical woman as Harrison’s sister, even though she looked vastly different from her image in the photograph she had seen aboard the Sea Minx. The white nightgown she wore was streaked with blood, as were her hands, which she wrung together anxiously. Her eyes were wild and she sobbed desperately. Shards of splintered glass lay scattered on the wooden floor around her bare feet. A number of the tall floor to ceiling windows had jagged holes. An older woman, her hair in a neat bun, spoke in calm voice, encouraging Melissa to drink some water that she held out to her in a china cup.
The tension in the room, which seemed to be some sort of solarium, was palpable.
“It’s all right, Melissa,” Harrison said in a soothing manner. He took the cup from the other woman and held it out to his sister. “Just have a sip.”
She seemed not to hear him, but Melissa held out a shaky, bloody hand and reached for the cup, which was filled with a brownish liquid that was definitely not water.
“Good girl,” Harrison whispered in a low tone, giving her a warm smile. “That’s it. Drink it. You’ll feel better, I promise.”
Melissa stared blankly at her brother. “Harrison?” Her thin voice was tremulous with fear.
“Yes, it’s me. I’m here. I’m home.”
“Harrison?” She asked again. Her thin body shook, as if she were cold.
The obvious pain in the woman’s voice chilled Juliette to the bone. What could be so terribly wrong? What had happened to upset her so?
“Drink the medicine, Melissa,” Harrison coaxed her. “Please. For me.”
Trembling, Melissa slowly brought the cup to her lips, closed her eyes and took a sip. Then she let the cup fall to the floor. It shattered next to the broken glass, sending shards of china flying everywhere and splashing the remainder of the brown liquid around the hem of her gown. In an instant Harrison stepped toward her and picked her up in his arms, carrying her toward the bed at the opposite end of the large room. The other woman followed closely behind them.
Mrs. O’Neil whispered frantic orders to one of the maids to sweep up the broken glass on the floor. She then noticed that their houseguests were standing there as well.
“Oh, my! Please, please, you must come with me and return to the dining room at once,” she said, obviously dismayed that they had witnessed such a private and unnerving scene.
With no other option available to them, Juliette and Jeffrey followed her back to the dining room. They sat in their seats at the table once again, yet neither of them could possibly eat. Wordlessly Jeffrey poured them each another glass of wine from the decanter. He handed a glass to her. Juliette found that she was shaking, but she drank the wine anyway hoping it would calm her. From the stricken expression on Jeffrey’s face, he was hoping the same thing.
They sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts.
Finally, Jeffrey muttered. “Good God, that was harrowing.”
Juliette whispered, “When he told me that his sister was ill, I never imagined that she was mentally ill.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “I am sure Harrison wishes we had not seen that.”
“But we did.” Juliette did not know how she would sleep that night.
The image of Melissa covered with blood, obviously in an attempt to injure herself or worse, would haunt her forever. It had been terrifying. Yet her heart ached for the pain in that woman’s heart. And her heart broke for Harrison, who obviously had been caring for his sister his entire life and was doing his best to help her.
“Are you all right?” Jeffrey gave her a concerned look.
She nodded weakly. “I suppose so. I just feel so terribly sad.”
“I do too,” he said somberly.
Again silence reigned in the room. Juliette sipped her wine, wishing she could be useful in some way. She had never witnessed anything so disturbing in her life, nor had she ever felt so powerless.
She finally murmured to Jeffrey as he refilled their glasses, “I have no idea what I could possibly to say to comfort Harrison after that.”
“There is no need to say anything to me.”
Juliette and Jeffrey both startled as Harrison stood before them. He looked haggard and weary and there were streaks of dried blood across t
he front of his white shirt. His jacket was gone and his hair was tousled as if he had run his hand through it many times in frustration. Juliette resisted the impulse to jump up and throw her arms around him.
“I apologize,” he said quietly. “I regret you had to see my sister that way.”
Jeffrey stood and poured a glass of wine for Harrison and handed it to him. “Or would you prefer something stronger?”
Harrison gave him rueful grin. “No. This will do fine.” He accepted the glass and drank.
Hesitantly Juliette ventured, “Is there anything we can do to help?”
“I doubt that.” He glanced out the glass doors to the patio. “Do you mind if I have a cigar?”
“Not at all.” Jeffrey agreed readily. “In fact, I’ll join you.”
Juliette watched as the two men took their wine and cigars and headed out to the slate patio, leaving her apparently forgotten and alone at the table. She sat there, more than a little stunned by their abrupt departure. Gentlemen usually had their cigars without the presence of women, but at that moment Juliette decided that was a ridiculous custom. With bold determination, she picked up her crystal wine glass and joined the men outside.
Bathed in the flickering light of the outdoor gas lamps that lined the patio, they sat on the steps which led down to the rolling expanse of manicured lawn. The lit tips of their cigars glowed in the dark and crickets chirped their song. Juliette hitched up the skirt of her deep sapphire gown and sat down between them, almost daring them to say something to her. Jeffrey merely gave her an indulgent smile and lifted his glass. Harrison said nothing. But he did not ask her to leave either.
“Does she behave that way often?” Juliette’s words broke the silence among them.
Harrison exhaled deeply. “She hadn’t for some time. Lately, however, she seems to be getting worse. More hysterical and more violent and more difficult to calm down afterwards.”
Jeffrey questioned. “I assume you have taken her to see a doctor?”
“Many doctors.” Harrison nodded. “The best money can buy. I even met with a few while I was in London. They all tell me the same thing.”
Desire In His Eyes Page 15