“Yes,” she said with certainty.
“Then you’re stouter of heart than most ladies. Here are some smelling salts, just in case.”
Alissa gently pushed his hand away. “I’m not a swooning woman who takes to her bed whenever a crisis arises. Thank you, anyway.”
He smiled. “No, I can see you are a woman with strength. Much more than even your husband might realize. Good night, Mrs. Braxton. I hope all goes well for your daughter.”
After the doctor left, Alissa turned to see Jared slumped over in a chair, his head held in his hands. She hurried to his side. “Jared?” she questioned, dropping to her knees beside him. “What’s wrong, my love?”
He jerked his fingers through his hair, his breath pulled between his teeth in a rush, and when he finally turned toward her, Alissa almost fell away. She’d never seen such volatile anger in anyone’s eyes.
“Do you blame me?” she asked hesitantly.
He stared at her, then shoved from his chair and paced the room. His hand scoured the back of his neck, and he shook his head. “No. I blame myself.”
“Why?” she asked, not understanding.
“Because it is my fault that she’s like this.”
Alissa studied his agitated movements. Finding the courage, she stated, “It has to do with the fire at Hawkstone.”
“Yes,” he hissed vehemently.
“Tell me about that night.”
Hard green eyes turned on her; he laughed cynically. “This was to be sort of a honeymoon for us, Alissa. Not a discussion of my first wife’s death.”
“Circumstances have changed things, Jared,” she said, her voice growing stronger as she came to her feet. “If we are to help Megan, I must know about her mother. From the first, whenever I asked about Celeste, you managed to dodge my questions. Other than assuming she was much like Patricia, I know nothing of her. Except you allow her to stand between us! This time I’ll not let you shun the issue!”
Amazed by her righteous anger, Jared viewed her at length. “You’re very perceptive, Alissa. I have let her stand between us and for that I am sorry.”
“The fire, Jared. Tell me of that night.”
He released a long breath, then strode toward his vacated chair and pulled its mate over to face it. “Have a seat.” He sat heavily in his own chair, his forearms bracing themselves on his thighs as he leaned forward. His hands were clasped, thumbs pressed to one another. “I must explain, Alissa, my first marriage went from one of love—a mistaken emotion on my part—to one of tolerance,” he said, the dark memories flooding through him. “When I married, I thought I loved Celeste, but as time went on, I realized I’d simply been infatuated with her physical beauty. After Megan’s birth, Celeste refused to allow me into her bed. At least, not without payment.”
“What do you mean?”
He laughed cynically. “She was willing to sell herself to me for a new gown, a piece of jewelry, or whatever met her fancy at the time. At first, I subscribed to her little game by buying her favors. But her cold responses soon cooled my desires. Any feelings I had for her finally died. I allowed her to remain at Hawkstone only because she was Megan’s mother. Celeste stayed only because of my station and wealth.”
“And the night she died … what happened?” Alissa asked, reaching out to him.
Jared looked at the soft hand covering his, then took it in his own. “The night of the fire, we argued,” he said in a low, controlled voice, fighting down his emotions. “I had come home to find her in her room, pacing the floor like an anxious cat. I don’t remember what I said to her, but it set her off. She accused me of being with my mistress—”
“Were you?”
Jared looked at Alissa. “Yes,” he said finally, then waited for her condemning words. They never came. “She knew I entertained other women, but it had come about only in the last year of our marriage. Although she refused my advances, she still wanted no one else in my bed. She was demented … I’m certain of it.”
“You cannot be blamed for seeking someone to show you kindness,” Alissa said, with understanding. “She pushed you into another’s arms.”
“Most women would not admit that, Alissa,” he said, a weak smile on his face. “I soon discovered why she’d brought up the subject that particular night. Cloaked in false indignation, she informed me she could no longer abide my ‘adulterous affairs.’ She was leaving me. Weary of her threats, her tantrums, her coldness, I toasted her decision with the brandy I held, offering her my blessings. She seemed startled that I would allow her to leave so easily. Perhaps my uncaring attitude damaged her pride, because it loosened her tongue.”
“And?”
“I was told she’d found a new love … a man who would care for her better than I. ‘My sincere sympathies to the poor fool,’ I said, and was told he wasn’t poor. She informed me they’d loved each other for years and it was only now that she’d decided to go to him. I told her to be off as quickly as possible. But, as she started gathering her jewels, I informed her she’d take nothing but the clothes on her back … she went wild. She started throwing things—cursing the day she’d met me. I merely laughed at her and started to leave the room, intent on washing my hands of the whole episode. But then she hit a chord in me that I could not—would not—abide. …”
His voice trailed off, and Alissa tenderly squeezed his hands, knowing there was only one thing the hateful woman could have used against him to hurt him. “Megan?”
“Yes, Megan. Celeste cursed our daughter … said she hated her … wished Megan had been born dead. She kept at it … wouldn’t shut up. Something snapped inside me. I remember throwing my glass across the room and going after her. I suppose she recognized the anger in my eyes for what it was. I could have killed her. Sometimes I think I actually would have, except …” The force of his memory hit him so hard a shudder racked his entire body and his eyes closed in pain.
“Jared,” Alissa whispered, gently, “tell me.” If he could only voice it, she thought, then perhaps Celeste’s ghost would be exorcised, gone forever. Now, more than ever, she knew the events of that night still haunted him. And he carried the emotional scars, from that day to this. “Except what?”
“In defense,” he whispered, “or anger, I don’t know which, she grabbed a book from the table to hurl at me. In the process she knocked over the lamp … the oil spread over the cloth, the flames after it. She was too close … her gown caught. I tried to help her, but she fought me … ran from me. Her screams were unbearable. It was too late … she threw herself through the window, her lover’s name on her lips. The drapes caught as she did so. They went up like a torch. I couldn’t extinguish them, so I found Megan and alerted the house. We saved all but the east wing.”
A picture of the actress leapt into Alissa’s mind, flames licking up her skirts, then it suddenly transposed itself into a vision of the faceless Celeste. Was it possible … ? “Jared, that night, where did you find Megan?”
“She was in the hallway, outside our rooms.”
“And where would you have expected to find her?”
“Four doors down, asleep in her bed,” he answered with a frown. “Why do you ask?”
“Is it possible … I mean, seeing the actress tonight, do you think—”
“My God!” he cried, finally understanding Alissa’s meaning. “I never realized … I only thought she’d suffered a paralyzing shock because of the fire itself and the fact her mother had died in it. But she’d heard Celeste’s hateful words. She’d actually witnessed her mother—Damn it all! Why hadn’t I recognized it before!”
“It doesn’t matter. We know what has happened to cause her reaction tonight, and we’ll be able to help her.”
Jared enfolded Alissa in his arms. “Why does a child so young have to suffer so much?”
He had not expected an answer, and Alissa did not offer one. As they continued their vigil, she kept thinking about her husband’s words.
Cold and heartless
, Celeste had nearly destroyed two lives, as she had her own. No wonder Jared viewed love so cynically. On the night they’d wed, he told her the emotion was not worth the pain. Now, she understood why. Yet it angered Alissa that he believed all women were like his first wife. Especially her. His words, warning her he’d not allow a cold body in bed with him again, forcing her to promise him, while he’d made love to her, that she was his home and no other would be allowed to seek refuge in her except him, came to full fruition in her mind. He had been cuckolded! And apparently he knew the man’s name. Unknowingly, she voiced her disbelief aloud, “Ian?”
Jared’s head snapped around. “What?”
Alissa blinked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“Perhaps not, but I heard you, madam. How do you know Ian Sinclair?” Her startled look confirmed she did. “Don’t lie to me, either. It won’t wash, Alissa.”
“We met at the cottage. He came upon Megan and me while we were picnicking one day.”
“The bastard trespassed?” he hissed, then wondered if it was only his land which had been invaded. But, immediately, he realized he’d allowed his distrust of Ian Sinclair to dictate his thoughts. His wife had come to him pure, virginal, and she’d not been out of his sight since the day he’d first bedded her. “You’ll not have any further communication with the man,” he ordered, coldly, grasping her chin. “Understand?”
Rebelling against the insinuation written in his gaze, Alissa pulled free. “Ian Sinclair did not cuckold you in the past. Nor would he do so now, sir. I believe him when he says he’s still your friend. Unfortunately, you’re not wise enough to recognize the fact.”
She started to rise, but he caught her arm. His grip bit painfully into her flesh. “If I ever learn you’ve gone against my orders, there’ll be hell to pay, madam. So heed my warning. Stay clear of Sinclair.”
Jared let loose her arm, and Alissa walked on stiff legs to Megan’s bed. His threats had made her bristle. If there were only some way to convince him … but she knew her words would settle on closed ears. Tamping down her anger, she spoke to Megan, instead, as the doctor had suggested.
Little communication fell between Alissa and Jared the remainder of the night, Ian Sinclair standing between them like a stone wall. By dawn’s light, Megan hadn’t improved, and they headed back to Hawkstone.
As Jared carried his daughter into the house, his silent wife behind him, he glanced at the figure framed in the sitting room doorway. Without missing a step, he recovered from the shock of seeing the all too familiar face.
Damnation! Had the whole world gone mad? he wondered. Or was it only his doorstep that seemed beset by fools and interfering relatives of late?
Turning to Mr. Stanley, he shifted his daughter into the man’s arms and ordered him to take her to her rooms. As Alissa moved around him, he caught her arm. “I’ll be detained a few moments. Please see to Megan for me.”
“What’s wrong with the child?” Edward Braxton asked, moving into the foyer. “And who’s this woman?”
Not knowing the man’s identity, Alissa resented his authoritative tone. “And who, sir, are you?”
“I, young lady, am—”
“An interloper,” Jared finished for his father, his tone frigid. “I don’t remember issuing you an invitation to my home. However, since you’ve taken it upon yourself to come at will, I suggest you find a comfortable spot and stay put. I have more urgent matters to attend to right now.”
When the man finally stepped from the shadows, Alissa gasped. Save for the color of his eyes, and his silver hair, he was an older version of Jared. “He’s your father?”
“He sired me,” Jared said, his cold eyes on the man.
“I’d better go,” she said, deciding it best to leave the men alone. The way the two had sized each other up, she was certain they were ready to stretch the entry ten paces and fire! “If there’s any change, I’ll send Mary for you.” Then, without thinking, she stood on tiptoe and kissed Jared’s cheek.
As she lifted her skirts to climb the stairs, she heard the elder Mr. Braxton say, “So, you’ve taken to keeping your mistress on the premises, now.”
“You, sir, are a fool!” Jared countered, angrily. “The young lady you have just maligned is not my mistress, but the mistress of Hawkstone. Alissa is my wife.”
“Wife!” his father shouted, but Alissa did not linger to hear the rest. By no means did she wish to become embroiled in another family row. Patricia’s maliciousness had been enough for her tastes. She could only imagine the malevolence that would come from her father-in-law’s lips.
Over the next three days, Alissa stayed at Megan’s side, Jared coming in every hour. Each time he did so, his temperament had worsened, and she felt certain his father was the cause. Only once did the man himself come into the room.
Upon entering, he had refused to address Alissa, choosing to remain aloofly silent. Then, to her dismay, he’d sat in a corner chair for a good half hour. The man’s stony presence unnerved her, his narrowed gaze inspecting her every move, and when she felt certain she was on the verge of delivering a well-deserved rebuke to the arrogant man, he rose from his seat and left. She’d not seen him since.
Fortunately, Megan had begun to regain a sense of reality. Apparently, the familiar surroundings and the gentle words of encouragement from Alissa and her father were acting as the needed medicine the doctor had prescribed.
On the afternoon of the fourth day, while Megan slept, Mary at her side, Alissa descended the stairs, heading toward the kitchens for a cup of tea. As her feet hit the diamond-patterned marble flooring, she stopped short. Shouts came from the direction of Jared’s office, rebounding through the halls. Slowly traveling toward the back of the house, a frown settled upon her brow. Several servants, who milled around the area, dusting nonexistent cobwebs, suddenly scurried off to attend to other chores. Eyes narrowing, her arms crossing over her breasts, she stood directly outside the closed door, listening to the heated discussion.
“… a common actress! You young whelp! Haven’t you the sense to marry into your own class?” Edward Braxton barked. “I should disown you!”
“You forget, Father,” Jared shot back, “when you practically accused me of murdering my first wife, I renounced all claim to your estates, your monies, and your titles! I don’t give a fig for any of it!”
“You cannot simply renounce a title, you dim-witted fool! Despite what you say, you’re the Marquis of Ebonwyck! And when I die—which, by God, will be another fifty-six years hence, if I have anything to say about it—you’ll be the Duke of Claremore!”
Outside the room, Alissa lifted her chin from the vicinity of her chest and snapped her jaw shut. Marquis of Ebonwyck? Duke of Claremore? Was this some sort of absurd joke? Then Jared’s words boomed through the door.
“I can do whatever I damned well please! All who reside within a fifty-mile radius of Hawkstone know they had better not address me by anything other than mister. I have not been called by my title for two years now, and I’ll not be called by it again. As soon as my son is born, I’ll gladly make a formal surrender of my title, which others have done in the past, whereupon it can be conferred on him, making him the heir apparent. And that, Your Grace, I shall do!”
“So, she’s with child already!” the duke accused, hotly. “Your reckless behavior in pursuing a willing piece of flesh has trapped you. Fool! Didn’t you think to pay her off instead of marrying her!”
“Alissa was a virgin when I took her to my bed. Our marriage came first, sir!”
“You don’t mean to insinuate that you love this commoner, this—this actress?”
“Love has nothing to do with it!” Jared shouted, his sardonic words slicing through the wood straight into Alissa’s heart. “She pleases me. At least she willingly shares my bed! That’s all I want from her. But since you are so worried about your damned title, I tell you this: When I impregnate her and she bears me a son, then your worries are over. If she does n
ot bear me a son, then you know as well as I that Megan, being a Peeress in Her Own Right, can carry the title through her to her own son. Praise be you’re of the old Scottish line! Save that Megan’s child will not carry the name Braxton, at least, there will be yet another Duke of Claremore! And furthermore, you—” The door suddenly flew inward, and Jared swallowed his heated words as he viewed Alissa standing just inside its frame.
“You, sir, are an ass!” she hissed at her husband, her blue eyes flashing in anger … and hurt. “Deceptions abound within you, my lord.” She spat the form of address as though she’d just ingested poison. “Is it an affliction that is common among all the nobility?” she asked, sarcastically, and Jared realized she referred to Rothhamford, as well as himself.
“Is it your custom to eavesdrop on a private conversation at will?” the duke asked, condescendingly.
“Your Grace.” Alissa inclined her head in mockery. “Eavesdropping is reserved for those who press their ears to the walls and doors. Since the entire household has been alerted that I am considered to be, in your eyes, a trollop, a lowly commoner, who’s trapped the Marquis of Ebonwyck into marriage, I do not call it eavesdropping!” Her eyes shifted from the duke to Jared. “Likewise, they also know my husband is pleased with my performances in bed and I’m to be considered, by him, nothing more than a brood mare! Of course, it’s expected I shall produce a male heir so his father will have a descendent on whom to place his esteemed title.” She noticed Jared’s gaze fall from hers. Guilty as charged! she thought. “Since the two of you have been so forthright in expressing your feelings, I shall be equally as honest. As for any desire to be called a marchioness, I disavow it! As for producing an heir to satisfy the childish desires of a pompous old man, I shall not do it! And, finally, Lord Ebonwyck,” she said, walking up to her husband, poking a finger into his solid chest, “you’ll find the pleasures I gave you are now but a memory. I’ll not be used by any man, whatever his purpose. You’re no longer welcome in my bed, sir!”
Masque of Enchantment Page 26