He strode out of the study and slammed the door behind him.
Trembling, Hannah sank down into the sofa and clasped her cold, shaking hands in her lap.
Her husband had become her worst enemy.
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Reiver cursed himself for ever agreeing to Hannah’s outrageous, unreasonable demands.
Seated beside his wife in a Hartford—New Haven railway car heading back from New York, he observed Hannah trying to resist the baby cradled in the wet nurse’s arms, and failing.
“Do you think she’s too warm?” Hannah asked Georgia Varner, the placid young farm girl they had hired, for Mrs. Hardy’s advanced age and cantankerous, impatient nature made her unsuitable to care for a demanding infant.
Ginger-haired Georgia, who looked too delicate to lift heavy pails of milk and hoe rock-strewn fields, laid the backs of her fingers against the baby’s forehead. “She doesn’t seem warm at all, Mrs. Shaw.”
Baby Elisabeth—named after Cecelia’ s mother—mewled and wrinkled her tiny face, causing Hannah’s concerned gaze to lock on her with the possessiveness a tigress feels for her cub. “Perhaps she’s hungry.”
“I fed her before we left,” Georgia said. “Would you like to hold her?”
Hannah stiffened. “I’ll only disturb her. She seems quite content in your arms.”
Reiver turned his attention to the lush Connecticut countryside rolling past the window and silently cursed himself again. He had known his wife’s strong maternal instinct would prevail, and he should have insisted that she see the baby first. Then she would have agreed to anything.
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Hannah had outsmarted him. Only when the ink was dry on the papers that gave her legal control of Reiver’s company did she agree to see Cecelia’s child.
To Reiver’s chagrin, the moment they arrived at Amos Tuttle’s house and Hannah held Elisabeth in her arms for the first time, her coldness melted, though she feigned a certain reserve for his benefit. He could tell that this tiny scrap of humanity had moved Hannah and captured her heart. That pleased him.
Hannah said, “Do you think you’ll like living in Connecticut, Georgia?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Her warm hazel eyes never left the baby in her arms. “I wanted to get away from the farm real bad, especially after—” She blushed, obviously thinking of her own stillborn baby born out of wedlock and her own ensuing shame. “Now I have a chance to make a fresh start. I disgraced my family and they weren’t about to let me forget it, especially my pa.”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Hannah said gently. “Surely your father could forgive you for yours.”
“No, ma’am, not him. I shamed him, and he was going to make me pay.
That’s why I ran away to the big city, to go into service and get away.”
“Well, we’re fortunate to have you,” Reiver said. “I know you’ll take good care of my—” He almost said “daughter” but stopped himself in time.
“Elisabeth.”
The placid Georgia ran one finger down the sleeping baby’s cheek. “Don’t you worry none, Mr. Shaw, I’ll care for her as if she were my own.”
Hannah smiled. “We’re counting on that.”
Georgia’s face clouded. “I feel bad for your cousins, ma’am, perishing together in that fire and leaving this little angel all alone in the world. It’s right charitable of you and Mr. Shaw to take her in.”
“It’s the least we could do,” Hannah said. “Otherwise she would have been sent to a foundling home.”
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Georgia’s eyes widened in indignation. “Surely not!”
Reiver addressed Hannah directly for the first time since they had boarded the train. “My softhearted wife couldn’t bear to let that happen, could you, my dear?”
She met his gaze and held it. “Of course not. I’m sure little Elisabeth will repay us tenfold for our charity.”
Reiver turned his attention back to the scenery. “We should be arriving in Hartford shortly.”
A rapt, wide-eyed Davey peered into the cradle. “She looks all red and wrinkly,” he said, “like a newborn piglet.”
“All babies look like that, you fool,” his brother scoffed. “But they grow out of it. Except for you.”
Sensing tension in the room, Elisabeth screwed up her face and let out a lusty wail.
Hannah glared at them. “Now you’ve made the baby cry.” She lifted Elisabeth onto her shoulder and the wailing ceased.
“I don’t see why she has to come live with us,” Davey grumbled. “She’ll cry all the time and keep us up at night. And when she gets older, she’ll want to tag along after us.”
Benjamin turned pale. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Hannah said, “By the time Elisabeth is old enough to tag along, you two will be grown men. You mustn’t be so selfish. Elisabeth’s parents are dead and she has nowhere else to go. Just because she’s here doesn’t mean that your father and I love you boys any less.”
They exchanged sheepish looks.
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She smiled. “Both of you are strong, so you must protect your little cousin, not be jealous of her.”
Benjamin gave an indignant snort. “Mother, I am fourteen years old. I am not jealous of a baby.”
Hannah suppressed a smile. “Why don’t the two of you go to the kitchen to see if Mrs. Hardy has baked you anything—unless, of course, you’re too old for cookies.”
The two boys walked out of the nursery with as much adult aplomb as they could muster, leaving Hannah alone with Cecelia’s daughter.
She rested her cheek against the downy head and breathed in the warm sweet scent of baby, fighting back tears as she thought of her own lost Abigail and the child she would never give Samuel.
Despite all her best attempts, she couldn’t harden her heart against a helpless infant, even if she was a living, breathing reminder of her husband’s infidelity.
Yet Reiver knew her better than she knew herself; once she saw the baby and held her, she would love her as fiercely as she loved her own children.
Hannah would never let him know that.
Suddenly the nursery door opened. Reiver stood there, watching her with a strange expression that made her shiver. Ever since she had taken control of his company, he regarded her with barely disguised loathing.
“I’m surprised at you, Hannah,” he said. “Such a display of warm maternal feeling for my mistress’s daughter.”
Hannah set the baby back down in her cradle and faced him. “I don’t believe in blaming an innocent child for the sins of her father. I promised you that I’d raise your daughter as if she were my own, and I shall.” She crossed her arms.
“But never think that she will mean more to me than my own children. That would be a grave mistake.”
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“Oh, I never intend to underestimate you again, dear wife,” he said coldly.
“See that you don’t.” She looked down at Elisabeth, now asleep. “You are right. Shaws do breed true. Elisabeth looks nothing like her mother. She has your hair, your eyes, and Samuel’s chin.” Hannah looked over at Reiver. “I’m surprised James and Mrs. Hardy didn’t notice the resemblance right away.”
“They will, in time.” He walked over to the cradle and peered in. “You’re wrong. She may have my hair and eyes, but she looks exactly like Cecelia. When she grows up, she’ll be exactly like her mother.”
Not if I can help it, Hannah thought.
Reiver straightened. “What happens now?”
She walked over to a window to put distance between them. “We go our separate ways. You will continue to run Shaw Silks without interference from me—unless, of course, I choose to interfere—while I rai
se the children.”
He came to stand behind her and she used superhuman effort to keep from stepping away. She could feel the menacing warmth of his breath ruffling the fine hairs on the nape of her neck.
“I’m still a young, virile man,” he said. “I won’t live like a monk.”
She stared down at the boys in the yard below, laughing and talking with Georgia. “Perhaps our new nurse would be willing to become your mistress, once Elisabeth is through nursing. She’s quite comely and sweet-tempered. All I ask is that you be discreet.” She turned to face him. “But then, you always were.”
Rage flared in Reiver’s eyes. “That’s low.”
“I feel nothing for you, and after fifteen years of marriage, I can’t pretend anymore. I’ll, raise your daughter, but I will not share your bed.”
His hand shot out and he grasped her wrist. “I could take you whenever and wherever I wish.”
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Hannah forced herself to remain calm, though her heart was pounding. “Yes, you could. However, the mill would suffer.”
He dropped her wrist as if it had turned white hot and stepped back, letting his gaze rake her over. “You used to be attractive. You were kind, generous, and forgiving, all that a woman should be.” He shook his head. “But you’ve become so twisted and bitter that I doubt if even Samuel would love you now.”
“No matter what you say, Samuel has always loved me, and he always will.”
She raised her head proudly. “He taught me never to allow anyone to denigrate me.”
“That’s before you changed.” His features turned bleak. “You know, since Cecelia died, you haven’t once spared a thought for my suffering. The woman I loved died, Hannah, and I can’t even wear black for her. Do you know what that has done to me?”
She reared back. “You’ll get not one shred of sympathy from me, Reiver Shaw. You and that woman caused me nothing but humiliation and heartache.”
“Why did I think you’d ever understand? You’re nothing but a cold, heartless bitch.”
“Whatever I am, you made me.”
He glared at her, then whirled on his heel and. stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
When Reiver’s angry footsteps died away, Hannah let out the breath she had been holding, staggered over to a nearby chair, and sank down. She hugged herself to stop the violent shudders racking her body.
She must have been insane to take Reiver’s mill away. She was no match for him. He was far too clever and ruthless, far too strong. He would win back his company and make her rue the day she was born.
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Hannah took several deep breaths until the shaking stopped. She had to keep her wits about her. She had to think. She would have to be on her guard from now on because she was all alone, and could rely only on herself.
Reiver stood behind the new girl and stared over her shoulder while her nervous fingers sorted the latest shipment of cocoons.
He came around the table to stand before her. “What is your name?” She looked very young, all of fifteen, if that.
“G-Grace Alcorn, sir.”
He should have known her name, for he had just hired her yesterday to replace Constance Ferry, but for the last two months, ever since signing over his mill to Hannah, Reiver couldn’t concentrate on business matters.
“Well, Grace Alcorn,” he said, “you’ll have to move faster if you expect to remain at Shaw Silks.”
Tears sprang to her fearful eyes. “P-please, Mr. Shaw, I need this job or m-my family will starve.”
He picked up a broken cocoon and shook it right under her nose. “If you want to keep this job, then you’ll have to remember that the object of sorting cocoons is to separate the perfect ones from the broken ones like this.” His voice rose. “You do not put them in the same basket, do you understand me?”
Her lower lip trembled. “Y-yes, Mr. Shaw.”
“See that you do, because I can’t abide incompetence.” Without another word, he whirled around, and when he caught several workers staring in shock, he glared back. “I pay you to work, not gawk, so get back to it!”
They averted their eyes and resumed working.
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Reiver stormed out of the room before he fired every last one of them, and headed for the stables that had replaced the old barn. He saddled his horse and rode out of the yard at a canter, needing to get away before he exploded.
He didn’t slow down until he reached Coldwater’s wide, tree-lined main street. Roger Jones, the blacksmith who had once thrown Reiver’s belligerent drunken father out of the local tavern, now smiled and nodded as he hammered a glowing horseshoe at his anvil. Bart Putnam, the livery-stable owner who had once refused Rummy Shaw’s eldest son a job as a groom because he put on airs, waved and called out a friendly greeting. Old Granny Fricker, sweeping dried autumn leaves off her porch, beamed at him in approval instead of chasing and cursing the hungry boy trying to swipe a peach pie cooling on her windowsill.
The hard-won respect he now enjoyed couldn’t compensate for the loss of his company.
Hannah had cut off his balls as surely as if she had used a knife.
It wasn’t as though she had marched into the mill and announced that she would be giving the orders now. Just as she had promised, she kept their home and raised the children as she always had. She made no attempt to challenge Reiver’s decisions or usurp his authority. Only their lawyers knew what she had done.
He couldn’t deny that her outsmarting him still rankled like a boil on his backside. Even though no one could see it, Reiver knew it was there and felt it every time he moved.
He came to the end of Main Street and turned his horse northward. Adding to his frustration was the fact that he hadn’t had a woman in two months. He had debated forcing himself on his wife, but thought better of it. Hannah had sworn the mill would suffer, and he couldn’t risk calling her bluff. He would have to seek his pleasure elsewhere.
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Reiver thought of Georgia, with her ginger hair and quivering breasts, and grinned. It would serve Hannah right if he availed himself of the nursemaid in his wife’s own house. She pretended not to care, but he knew otherwise. Besides, Georgia was too sweet for his tastes, and he put the thought of seducing her right out of his mind.
There had to be some way to get his mill back. Some way…
“Something’s troubling Reiver.”
James watched Hannah carefully as she looked up from the accounts, but she revealed no emotion in her gaze or features. She had changed gradually over the years, from outgoing and as eager to please as a puppy to pensive and reserved.
Not that he could blame her. Having a child die and losing her husband to another woman was enough to make any woman guard her heart. She was still pretty, though.
Hannah smiled and sat back in her chair. “There must be a great change in him for you to notice.”
James blushed, set down his toolbox, and settled his lanky frame into the chair across from her desk. “I just keep the looms running and mind my own business. But even I can see that there’s something wrong with my brother.
You’re his wife. Haven’t you noticed?”
Hannah grew more guarded. “Reiver and I have never been as close as some married couples, and these days I find it even more difficult to gauge his moods.”
“I’m sorry, Hannah. None of my business.”
She shrugged off his sympathy with a brief wave of her hand. “What has he been doing to warrant your concern?”
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James groped for the right words. He could describe the complex workings of a machine without hesitation, but people puzzled him.
“Just this morning,” he began, “Reiver lost his temper with the new girl who sorts the cocoons. He hired her just yesterday, so he can’t expect her to know what to do right away. When she mixed in some broken cocoons with the good ones, he flew into a rage. I could hear him shouting all the way down in the machine shop.”
Hannah frowned. “What happened to Constance Ferry? She isn’t working for us anymore?”
James shook his head. “She went to work in that new silk mill that just opened up in Rockville.”
“Why did she leave Shaw Silks? Did she say?”
“They’re paying her more money.”
“That’s a good reason. And Reiver didn’t try to match it?”
James shrugged. “I don’t know. I only take care of the looms.” He hesitated.
“I did hear some grumbling among the workers that Reiver cut their wages.”
Hannah’s blue eyes widened in astonishment. “If he did that, more of our workers are going to desert us for the Rockville mill.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed. “Something is wrong with my brother. Cutting wages and hollering at the girls…that’s not like Reiver at all.”
“You’re right. I’ll see if I can learn what’s troubling him.”
James took his toolbox, walked to the door, and turned. “Is Miss Varner up in the nursery?”
“I expect so. Why?”
His face grew hot. “She said Elisabeth’s cradle has been squeaking. I thought I’d go up and fix it for her.”
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Hannah’s guarded expression softened. “You may see Georgia anytime you want, James. You don’t need to ask my permission.”
He blushed again and left the study.
Hannah stared at the closed door and smiled to herself. So James was smitten with Georgia. Hannah had never seen the shy Shaw brother express interest in a woman before. He always seemed to prefer machines that, once he fixed them, stayed fixed.
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