James bristled as he always did when anyone disparaged his sister. Nicholas suspected he had been forced to defend his half-native relation for most of his life, and he counted on James rising to her defense now. “My ‘goddamn sister,’ as you so delicately put it, has made you a fortune, and don’t you forget it. This isn’t Claire’s fault. She offered Lexie a job before any of us knew about...your relationship. It’s not her fault Lexie took her up on her offer.”
“I need to talk to her,” Nicholas said, resting his head miserably on the bar.
“Then go talk to her.”
“I can’t!” Nicholas exploded. “I’ve been barred from the O’Connor household. She’s refused to see me, and your family is hiding her. What do you want from me, Campbell? Do you want me to be happy about it? Well, bully for you.”
“Don’t be a horse’s ass, Nick,” James admonished. “This is the kind of behavior I’m talking about. You’re drinking yourself into oblivion, and it’s not gone unnoticed. Our business partners aren’t going to trust a drunk.”
“Shut up,” Nicholas retorted, motioning for the bartender to bring him another round. “I’m not a drunk.”
James snorted a breath of bitter laughter. “You’re not? If I want to see you, I just need to find the nearest saloon, because you’re sure as hell not going to come to any business meeting I set up. You’ll just sit here and drink, get into a fight, and stagger home, only to begin again the next day. Sounds like a drunk to me.”
“I’m not a drunk,” Nicholas repeated, his words slurring.
“Yes, you are.” He paused for a moment and played with his glass, but he didn’t drink. “I understand you’re hurt, but we need you to pull yourself out of this and get to work. Who’s going to help O’Connor run the business once I’ve left for the Orient? Depending on how things go, I may be gone for months, if not years.”
“Your sister?” Nicholas sneered.
James’s upper lip curled into an angry snarl, but his voice was calm when he said, “The O’Connors are a package deal, and you and I both know Claire can’t take meetings. No man is going to listen to an Indian woman, no matter how rich and smart she is or how many languages she speaks. You’re a partner in this business, and you need to pull your weight. Or at least show up. Hell, I can’t even trust you to entertain a beautiful blonde for an evening.”
“I guess you already heard about Becky.”
“Word travels fast when you’ve offended the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in San Francisco. I’ve always trusted you to charm women, and you couldn’t even manage that.”
“I found her self-absorbed and dull.”
“That’s never been an impediment before,” James retorted. “I asked you to entertain the girl, not marry her. You need to get yourself under control.”
“Or what? You going to kick me out?”
James sighed heavily. “If you insist on putting our investment at risk, then yes.”
“You’re a cold bastard, you know that?”
“Always have been,” James replied wearily, lifting his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I can’t defend your actions for much longer. I understand you’re upset, but you’ve got to sober up and meet me half way.”
“Bring her to me and I’ll sober up. Is she sick?”
“Don’t ask me. Go ask her.”
“Convince her to talk to me. She’ll listen to you. Everyone listens to you. I just need to talk to her one more time.”
James snorted a laugh. “If everyone listened to me, you’d still be entertaining Becky and not sitting here. I’m not doing your dirty work for you. You want to talk to your woman, go to Claire’s and ask to see her.”
“Your sister turned me away the last time I went, and your jackass brother-in-law stands behind her. Supports her in her decision, he says. This is not your fight. Your sister has nothing to do with this, but she’s interfering. So my drinking is messing with business? I care about that as much as your sister cares that she’s standing between me and Lexie.”
“Claire did not make Lexie leave you,” James growled. “All she did was give her a place to live.”
“And if she didn’t have one, she would have come home to me. So you want to know what’s bad for our partnership? Your sister and her fool of a husband.”
“Say that to his face, Wetherby, and see what it gets you.”
“If I get the chance, I’ll do that.”
“You’re an idiot.”
Nicholas barked a laugh. “Yeah, well.” Taking another run at James, he said, “But no more than your sister.”
He knew the moment his friend had given in to his temper. Anger glittered in brandy eyes drained of all warmth and his mouth curled into a sneer. “No wonder she left you. You’re nothing but an arrogant jackass, and a mean drunk. I can see why you can’t keep a woman.”
Nicholas launched himself off his stool with a roar and hit James in the chest. He wasn’t sure what he hit him with. He might have hit him with his head. James grunted an expletive and shoved Nicholas hard.
“Don’t be a fool, Nick. You don’t want to do this.”
“Scared, Campbell?” Nicholas snarled, only to hear John Markland’s words as he placed the bet that had changed Nicholas’s entire world: Scared, Wetherby?
Christ, no wonder she’d left him. He was no better than the man she had run from.
Instead of pondering the thought, instead of considering how he might change his fortunes, Nicholas took another swing at James, and quite by accident, caught him on the chin. He’d been aiming for his stomach.
James lurched into a stool, stumbled, but did not fall. “You are sorely trying my patience,” he growled, baring his teeth as he rubbed away the sting of Nicholas’s blow. “I always considered you a friend, Nick. We’ve been patient with you since Rob died, not required much from you. We didn’t argue when you left for Sacramento, allowing you to handle what you could from the capital, because I could at least count on you to work our business contacts there. I can’t count on you for anything now.”
His disappointment stung worse than any blow, mostly because he was right. Nicholas was as feckless and unreliable as he had ever been, and drove away the one person who had stood behind him through all of it, a man who had become a surrogate brother to him. Even when his brother had been alive, Nicholas had been as close to James as he had been to Rob. Now he ruined that, just like he ruined everything else.
You should have done something he’d be proud of, Lexie’s voice rang in his ears. She’d offered him absolution only to leave him in pain and despair.
He hated her.
Howling with fury, Nicholas picked up a chair and flung it at James’s head. A part of him was relieved when he missed.
“Hey! Get him out of here!” the bartender shouted.
James shot forward and delivered two quick punches to Nicholas’s midsection.
He doubled over, struggling to catch his breath. James was stronger than even Nicholas gave him credit for. Christ, he might just retch.
James grabbed him by the shoulder, dragged him from the saloon, and motioned to a cab-for-hire. As it approached, he said, “You know, Nick, I’ve half a mind to go ahead and let you strangle on the noose you’ve put around your neck.”
God, he deserved that.
James opened the door to the cab and shoved Nicholas inside. “But I won’t. Go home. Get sober. Get yourself together. You know where I am when you’re ready,” he said, slamming the door shut, leaving Nicholas to his melancholy.
Morning light streamed through the lace kitchen curtains when Claire came to talk to her. As she entered the room, she waved the servants away. “I’d like a word with you, Lexie.”
Lexie turned miserable eyes in Claire’s direction. “Of course,” she responded immediately, though she realized she would be forced to confront her misery, and would be forced to do it in front of Claire. She liked and respected Claire, and she wanted Claire to feel the same way. As long as
the truth of her relationship with Nicholas remained unspoken between them, Lexie could pretend she wasn’t a fallen woman.
Claire took a seat at the table where she fed her children and motioned for Lexie to join her. When Lexie looked at her expectantly, Claire said, “Do you need to tell me something?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Are you sure?” Claire asked, as if Lexie understood exactly what she was referring to. Only Lexie had no idea.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Claire got up from her chair and sat down in the one next to her, putting a hand over hers in a sisterly way. “Lexie, honey, you can tell me.”
Lexie extricated her hand and pushed hair out of her eyes and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sweetie, I’ve noticed you’ve been sick recently. Don’t take this the wrong way, but we’ve all noticed.”
Taking a long breath to calm her nerves, Lexie was grateful to not be discussing Nicholas. “Yeah, but I’ve always had a delicate constitution.”
Claire rubbed Lexie’s back between her shoulder blades. Odd how these strangers had become family in such a short period of time. Just as Nicholas had become family.
“Is that it? Are you sure?”
Lexie looked up at Claire, confused. “What else could it be?”
Claire’s gaze was sympathetic. “I don’t mean to pry, but could you be pregnant?”
“What?” Lexie asked, shocked. The thought had not occurred to her. Her first, immediate response was, “Certainly not!” But as the words hung in the air between then, the notion didn’t seem so outlandish.
Oh God, please no, she thought wildly. She couldn’t be pregnant, not now. She couldn’t be unmarried, pregnant, and engaged to a man she was certain would beat her—a man so possessive of her he had threatened to rape her for simply arriving at a dinner with Nicholas. What would he do to her if she arrived at their wedding carrying Nicholas’s child? What would he do to the baby?
“I couldn’t be,” Lexie said miserably.
“Are you certain? When did you last have your monthly?”
Lexie’s cheeks flamed, embarrassed, but Claire was so non-judgmental that, instead of immediately denying it, she considered the possibility. Her heart sank like a stone in her chest when she realized couldn’t remember the last time she’d had her monthly. It had been a long time. Lexie suddenly recalled thinking she had been late before she left Nicholas almost three weeks ago. She was late. Very late. She wanted to blame it on her fragile emotional state, but that wasn’t it. Unlike many other women, Lexie had always been able to count on her monthly.
She was going to have a baby.
Burying her head in her hands, she said, “Oh God, this isn’t happening.”
Claire rubbed her back gently. She touched her own belly and said, “This is my third pregnancy. I’ve noticed the signs in you, too, Lexie. The weeping at the smallest things, the retching.”
Lexie glanced over at Claire. She had noticed Claire had a radiant glow about her, which seemed unfair when Lexie had eyes rimmed red from weeping, and she constantly fought the urge to vomit. “You’re married, Claire. I’m not. It’s not possible. I’m just sad, that’s all.”
Claire bit her lip and regarded her carefully. “Is it not possible, or do you not want it to be possible?” Lexie hid her face behind her hands. “We had heard you were engaged in an affair with Mr. Wetherby.” When Lexie looked up, miserable and ashamed, she continued. “I’m not condemning you. But if you are pregnant, you need to face it and figure out what you’re going to do.”
“I can’t be. He was always so careful,” Lexie cried, bursting into tears. “What you must think of me. I’m a fallen woman.”
“You’re not a fallen woman. You fell in love with him, didn’t you?” Claire asked, taking Lexie into her arms. Her head on Claire’s shoulder, she nodded, bereft. “You need to tell him, Lexie. Let him make this right.”
A strangled sob erupted from her throat. “You saw him. He doesn’t care! How can this be made right?”
“Look at me, Lexie,” Claire said sternly. She took Lexie’s face into her hands and said, “You’re wrong if you think he doesn’t love you.”
“You saw him the other day!” Lexie wailed. “You saw the woman he had with him.”
Claire shrugged. “She doesn’t mean anything to him. He was only with her for business, and he managed to insult her not long after he took his leave of us.” She paused for a long time, stroking Lexie’s head, and Lexie’s heart lightened a little. He hadn’t gotten over her as quickly as she’d thought. The thought shouldn’t have made her as happy as it did. Claire sighed. “He didn’t accept the money I gave him to pay your debt, either.”
“What?”
“He sent the money back. No note, but he sent it back. You need to talk to him. Stop asking us to turn him away. Or turn him away yourself, because we’re not doing it for you anymore. We can’t. If he comes here again, we’re allowing him in, and he can stay as long as he wants.”
Claire’s words gave her pause. She couldn’t face Nicholas again, just couldn’t, because deep down, in the core of her soul, she had always understood their relationship hadn’t been about money for Nicholas. He had been as involved in their love affair as she had been. But such an admission only pained her, so she said instead, “So he sent the money back. It just means he realizes he made a whore out of me and regrets that.”
Claire snorted in disbelief. “That is the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard, and you’re not a stupid woman. You don’t believe that any more than I do. Besides, he’s been brawling.”
“What?” Lexie asked surprised. “Nicholas?”
Nodding slowly, Claire seemed to contemplate her next words. Finally, she said, “He’s been picking fights down at the gambling hall, drinking himself into a stupor. You have refused to speak to him, and I know you’ve gotten letters from him you send back. After every one of your rejections, he’s done something absurd. He even picked a fight with my brother, James.”
Lexie’s hands flew to her throat, her heart racing. Nicholas was a big man and she was certain he could to handle himself, but against someone like Campbell, she wasn’t sure how Nicholas would fare. They seemed evenly matched to her. “Is he all right?”
“Jamie’s fine,” Claire said. Watching Lexie, she recognized the concern in her face. “But you didn’t mean Jamie. You meant Mr. Wetherby, didn’t you?” They sat in silence for a time. Lexie kept her gaze fixed on the tabletop, unwilling to meet Claire’s penetrating gaze. “According to Jamie, he’s fine. Too drunk to put up much of a fight.”
Poor Nicholas. She couldn’t bear the thought of Nicholas destroying himself like her father had.
Claire heaved a heavy sigh. “Listen, this can’t go on. We’re business partners with Mr. Wetherby, and his behavior is threatening our venture. It’s one thing for him to like the ladies and get into a scrape every now and again, but it’s another thing entirely to ignore business meetings and insult the daughters of some of the richest men in the state.”
Lexie’s blood ran cold. She’d made a fine mess of everyone’s lives—hers, her father’s, Nicholas’s. Now Claire and her family were being pulled into the web of her deceit. She took a shaky breath, and her voice wavered when she said, “Do you want me to leave? I don’t want to cause problems for you.”
Claire shook her head. “No, Lexie, I don’t want you to leave. I want you to fix this. He’s suffering, you’re suffering, and you owe it to him to tell him you’re carrying his baby. I think he’ll do right by you. I think he loves you.”
The tears began flowing again. Weeping, Lexie said, “I can’t. You don’t understand.”
“I understand just fine. He loves you, you love him, and you’re pregnant. It’s his baby, is it not?”
“If there’s a baby, of course it is!” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “But you can’t know how he feels about me.”
Claire gave an exasper
ated sigh. “You didn’t see how he looked at you the other day. The man is in love with you, and he’s destructing because of it. Who’s he going to go after next? He’s well on his way to picking a fight he can’t win. What will happen then?”
“I can’t tell him, Claire, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
Before she could even think to stop them, the words exploded from her in a high-pitched wail. “Because I’m engaged to someone else!”
Those words stopped Claire cold. Her hands dropping to her sides, she said woodenly, “To whom?”
“Patrick Buchanan.” Lexie turned her midnight eyes to Claire to gauge her reaction.
Claire flinched and wrinkled her nose in distaste, a similar reaction to the one Lexie had every time she thought about Buchanan. Claire wasn’t very good at keeping her emotions in check. Her expressive face always betrayed her the same way Lexie’s blushing betrayed her. “Good God, Lexie, why?”
As they sat at Claire’s sturdy kitchen table, morning light streaming through lace curtains, Lexie told her everything. Told her about the deal that had been brokered between her, her father, and Buchanan almost a year before, about how possessive Buchanan was. She even told her why she had left Nicholas the way she did, about how Buchanan had come to her suspecting her affair with Nicholas. The only thing she neglected to mention were the threats against Nicholas. She didn’t want Claire any more in the middle than she already was.
When Lexie finished her story, Claire sighed and said heavily, “That’s quite a mess you’re in, Miss Markland.”
Lexie rested her elbows on the tabletop and buried her head in her hands. “I know.”
“You need to tell Mr. Wetherby about the baby. You need to fix this.”
“I can’t, Claire.” Lexie was silent for a long time. Her voice hollow, she said finally, “But I will fix this, I promise. I’ll make this right for you. I never wanted you to get hurt.”
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