Dangerous Obsession

by Natasha Peters

  “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know—”

  “I shouldn’t have tried the jump,” he insisted. “Later, after they patched him up, they asked us how it happened. Seth told them it was his doing. He said his horse had slipped her stride as they got up to the hedge, that he’d gone over her head and she’d come down on top of him. I was there while he was telling them. He looked very cool, very sure of himself. I didn’t know why he wanted to lie about it, but it made me look less of a fool and so I let his story stand. Until I saw that he’d done it to put me in his power. It’s hard to explain. He wanted something, a secret, something he could use, something to hold over me. He needed to make himself feel equal to me, or even superior. I know it sounds incredible, that a thirteen-year-old boy—”

  “No, I can believe it of him,“ I said wearily.

  “Well, as soon as I caught on to his game I told the truth and took my well-deserved lumps. I felt a little better, and at least I’d thwarted his devious little plan, whatever it was. It’s not a good idea to let someone like Seth know your secrets, Rhawnie.”

  “I know that, Steven. Steven,“ I shifted around in my seat, “I want to tell you—"

  “But every time I saw him walk, saw him limp, it hurt. He never said anything, never blamed me. But we both knew that I’d maimed him, marked him for life. It was a long time ago," Steven laughed softly and bitterly. “Nearly twenty years. After the accident he tried even harder to excel, to make up for his bad leg. He never let it interfere with anything he wanted to do. He learned to fence, to dance, to raise hell. And he was still competing. I went in for law. The Church didn’t appeal to him—God knows!—and so he went in for medicine. He was a lot like Sean in those days; got himself thrown out of the best schools in the country. So Father packed him off to Europe, to Paris and Heidelberg. He surprised us. Came home from Heidelberg with a good degree and that duelling scar on his cheek. He was twenty years old. A qualified doctor. He could have had anything. The world was open to him.“

  I was almost afraid to ask what happened next. I thought I knew. “A woman?" I said softly.

  “Julie.”

  “Your wife!” My eyes widened.

  “She wasn’t my wife then. She was Aunt Colette and Uncle Philippe’s daughter, our first cousin. We’d always liked her, of course. But I never noticed that Seth was any fonder of her than I was. But when he came back from Germany he proposed to her. She was only fifteen. Still a child. Mother and Aunt Colette advised them to wait a year or two, with good reason. At twenty Seth was already a man of the world. We’d both had our share of women, but he was insatiable. He seemed to want to make a career of whoring. He got a reputation among the bloods of New Orleans as the one to watch and emulate. He’d picked up some fancy tricks with the blade in Heidelberg—when he should have been studying, I’m sure—and he could beat any fencing master in the city, and New Orleans had the best. I think Julie was a little frightened of him, the way he swaggered and carried on like a true cove, as Sean would say. She accepted our mothers’ advice and told him that she wasn’t ready to marry yet. He took that as an affirmative answer. But he shouldered his disappointment and marched off to war with Mexico.

  “He impressed Sam Houston and was lucky enough not to be at the Alamo when the slaughter came, and he came home a year and a half later, covered with glory. I’m sure he hadn’t done a lick of doctoring out there. He found killing more to his tastes. And when he got back, he found that Julie and I were engaged. We didn’t do it to spite him—we didn’t give him much thought. After all, she didn’t say that she would marry him, only that she wasn’t sure and wanted to wait. Maybe we felt that his proposal was one of the crazy impetuous things he did on the spur of the moment. It’s just that—while he was away—we discovered that we loved each other.”

  Steven was silent for a few minutes, remembering. He didn’t seem to be aware of me at all.

  "No one dreamed that Seth really cared about Julie. But he did care, more than we knew. He was beside himself. I’d never seen him so angry. And he was furious with me. Accused me of playing up to his girl while he was off fighting for Old Glory. Young fool. I wasn’t impressed by his heroics and I told him so. I can understand his feelings. He'd been competing with me all his life, and while he was off in Texas blowing holes in Mexicans and carving them up with his sword, I was safe at home, making love to the only girl in the world that he really wanted. And so he did what any disappointed lover would do under the circumstances. He kidnapped her.”

  “You’re joking!” I gasped.

  "No, I’m not. He rode down to La Rêve and carried her off in the dead of night. I thought that it was his intention to dishonor her, to force her to marry him. I still think so. But Julie said no. She always maintained that he was just disturbed about the whole business and that he wanted time to talk to her in private, an opportunity to renew his proposal and to convince her that she should marry him, not me.”

  “I think you are right,” I said. “He has no honor. Your wife must have been very good, very trusting.”

  “She was an angel,” Steven said. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “But whatever his intentions were, he failed. Julie’s maid discovered her absence almost immediately and alerted the household, and Uncle Philippe rode up to Highlands to tell us. Father and I went after them and brought them back. Julie was still wearing her nightdress. He’d thrown a cloak around her to keep out the damp. She was crying. I remember that. Not sobbing loudly, but her face was wet. I didn’t touch him then, in front of her. I didn’t say a word. But when we got home I did what any outraged bridegroom would do under the circumstances. I called him out.”

  “You challenged him!”

  Steven nodded grimly. “We didn’t tell our parents, of course. Kept it a dark secret. It was the classic confrontation. We met under the Duelling Oaks outside New Orleans one misty morning. Two brothers thirsting for each other’s blood, each convinced that the other was a swine who deserved to die. I swore that I was going to kill him. I wanted to hack him to pieces and throw him to the alligators. Loving brothers, weren’t we? You remember when I horsewhipped the Prince in front of Felix’s that night? I felt the same way about Seth, that he was a cad who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as the rest of us. Men like Azubin—and Seth—bring out the worst in me. That duel with Seth showed me a side of myself that I hadn’t known existed. I was full to the brim with anger, and a hatred that went deeper than just that kidnapping nonsense.

  “And he wanted my blood, too. He really thought that if he killed me he could have Julie again after the fuss died down. He couldn’t get it through his head that she didn’t love him. Poor child. She was distraught about it. But she never said a bad word about him. She was always ready to understand and to forgive. She always had an excuse for the way he behaved.”

  “What happened?” I asked excitedly. “Did you fight?”

  “Oh, yes, we fought. He chose broadswords. He fancied himself the best swordsman in the country, remember, and I let him think so. But I’d always loved fencing. And when Father and I were in Washington together—I spent some time as his aide soon after college—we met regularly, just for fun. Mother was down here at the time, and Father said he had to do something to keep his mind off other women. Father could wipe the floor with any of those Royal Street monkeys in their fancy academies. He was the best I’d ever seen. But I worked hard and I got to the point where I could beat him sometimes.

  “Well, Seth and I squared off and took stances. He was grinning all over his face. I could tell he thought this was going to be an easy fight. But I didn’t want to toy with him.

  I lit into him with everything I had, and the grin left his face pretty quickly. He was fighting for his life, and he knew it. Neither of us gave an inch. He cut me pretty badly under the ribs. But when he was pulling back I lashed out and chopped at his bad leg. It caught him off balance and he went down. I stuck the tip of my sword into
his throat. He dared me to kill him. But I couldn’t. I thought of Julie and Mother—it would have broken their hearts. He sneered at me and called me a coward, but so help me God, I heard these words ringing in my ears: ‘And Cain slew his brother Abel.’ And I thought, ‘What the hell am I doing? And I threw down my sword. Just then Father rode up. I’ve never seen him so angry. He shouted at me, called me every name he could think of, and I swear if Seth hadn’t been hurt he would have pounded his face in. Seth left the city soon afterwards. We didn’t see him again for seven years, until just after Julie died.”

  “Oh, Steven.” I put my arms around him. “If things had happened differently, if he had had the chance to kill you, he would have done it.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve often wondered about it. But it was a bad business, all the way around. I couldn’t even take pleasure in knowing that I’d fought fair: I’d struck him in his weakest spot, taken unfair advantage. It caused a terrific scandal. Everyone was hurt by it: Julie, aunt Colette and Uncle Philippe, Mother, Father. Especially Mother. It broke her heart, the fact that her two oldest sons hated each other and that one of them had been driven from his house.”

  “You blame yourself still,” I said sadly, “for no reason. Oh, Steven, he has a demon inside him. A hundred demons! They have always been there.”

  That’s what Julie said. That he was driven and desperate. But driven by what, I’d like to know? Not ambition. He gave up medicine, called it a fool’s game. And desperate? Why, because he wasn’t born first? I don’t know how he lives. I don’t want to know. As far as I’m concerned he can roast in his private Hell, the one he’s made for himself. Along with his fellow gamblers and his women.”

  I froze. His voice was thick with loathing. He hated his brother and everything associated with him. I had an impulse to shout, “I know him! I know how he lives! I was one of his women! I was his wife!”

  But I said nothing. If I told Steven the truth I would lose him, I was sure of it. He would lose me. He would lose and Seth would win. I couldn’t do it. It was up to Seth now, whether he would spare me more agony and keep silent, or whether he would tell his brother that the woman he wanted to marry was his wife. And then—I hated to think about what would happen then. We were in his power, both of us, Steven and myself! Oh, God, I thought despairingly, will I never be free of him?

  Impulsively I threw my arms around Steven’s neck and hugged him tightly. “I want to be a good wife to you, Steven!” I whispered. ‘‘I don’t want to hurt you!”

  “You could never hurt me, darling,” he said. He pulled back and looked at me fondly. “I’m so glad, Rhawnie. So very glad I found you.”

  We heard sounds of a carriage below. “They’re here. Mass must be over,” I said.

  “I want to stay with you,” he said. “Please, Rhawnie.”

  “No, no, Steven, not tonight! We don’t want—scandal. Later, after my concert, we’ll go away. Far away!” I hugged him again. “Go now,” I said softly. “It’s very late. I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  As soon as he had gone I rang for Anna. I paced the floor. I stood in front of the piano and banged at the keys. I twisted my hands and clutched my hair like an old-fashioned tragedienne.

  Anna came in, her eyes full of questions.

  I said in a dead voice, “He is here, Anna.” She knew at once who I meant. She ran to me and put her arms around me. “I must think!” I said frantically. “I cannot marry Steven now. Seth is his brother, Anna! Yes, his brother! Oh, dear Heaven, what can I do? I can’t tell him. I tried, but I couldn’t. They hate each other! It would kill Steven to know the truth. He knows all there is to know, oh, yes, but so long as this ‘husband’ of mine was a faceless stranger, it was somehow all right. But this devil is his own brother! I am at my wits’ end. It is hopeless, impossible! I—I’ll leave here at once!”

  I started to pace again.

  “Pack my things, Anna! We’ll leave at once, go far away! I’ll get out of their lives and never see either of them again. Well, what are you waiting for?” Anna stood motionless. “Do as I say!”

  She shook her head and pointed to her throat.

  “I know I have to sing,” I said impatiently. “I haven’t forgotten everything. But this is more important! And how could I sing, knowing that he was there, listening, listening and laughing at me!”

  Now Anna looked impatient and wagged her head. “Yes, he would too laugh!” I averred. “He has nothing but scorn for me and the things I can do. He is a monster! Of course I must leave. It’s the only solution. Do you want me to stay and be humiliated?”

  A shrug.

  “Ha. No matter what I do, I am lost. Oh, if only I could persuade him to keep silent!”

  Anna grinned unexpectedly and mimed slicing her own throat.

  “This is no time for jokes!” I shouted. I threw up my hands. “Do you think I haven’t wanted to kill him, a hundred, a thousand times? Oh, if only he would die. Devil! Bastard! I just don’t understand how he could be born to a woman like Elise McClelland. He is a changeling!

  That’s it! He’s, not her son at all, but some evil thing the Gypsies put in the cradle when they stole the real Seth. Oh, will you listen to me? I am so crazy that I’m starting to believe the lies they tell about my own people! Mad. I am going mad. Oh, what am I going to do?”

  Quickly, Anna signalled to me that I must stay, that Seth was sure to come and that I must convince him to leave me in peace.

  ‘‘Yes, Anna, you’re right,” I said. “He will come to sneer and to gloat. Oh, if only I had a weapon. Something— like a secret. Something I could use against him!”

  Anna grabbed my arm and shook me. She made motions that I couldn’t understand, and looked pained and frustrated when she saw my incomprehension.

  “What, Anna? Seth—and Steven—their Mother? I don’t understand. We will talk later, Anna. Be calm. I will be calm.” I stood stock still in the middle of the room. “You see? Calm. I will make myself ready. I will talk to him calmly and rationally. I will not shout or scream. I will try to—persuade him.”

  Anna helped me out of my gown and corsets. I put on a green silk nightgown and on top of that a Chinese-style dressing gown with flowers and dragons woven into the fabric. Then I sat at the dressing table in my bedroom, which adjoined the music room, and Anna brushed my hair a thousand strokes.

  “Why did I marry him, Anna?” I wondered. “I must have been out of my mind. Perhaps it’s illegal to marry while you’re insane? What do you think, Anna? Do you think we’re really married? Steven would know, but I can’t ask him. Bah, I know why I did it! Because he willed it! I was his puppet and I danced when he pulled the strings! But no longer, Anna.” I turned around on the love bench and gripped the small woman’s wrists. “No more, I said huskily. “He is not my master now. I am free of him."

  My hatred has freed me. Once I loved him, but now I hate him, I hate him for what he did to me in Vienna. And my hatred will make me strong! I will defy him, Anna, and I will win. This time I will win!”

  Anna stopped her brushing and braided my hair loosely. I wore it braided to bed so that it wouldn’t tangle too much while I slept. She was just finishing when we heard a tapping on the path in front of the house. Step, step, tap. We both froze. Anna clutched my arm.

  “Don’t be frightened, Anna,” I said. "I’m not afraid. Go downstairs and let him in. Bring him up. I should have known that he would come tonight. He couldn’t wait. But he can’t hurt me now, Anna. I really believe that. Ah, look it these braids! I look too young, too vulnerable. Like a little girl. I’ll pin them up myself. Listen, there’s the knocker! Bring him, Anna.” I wound my braids around my head and jabbed at them with pins.

  Anna left the room and went downstairs to admit our visitor. I went back to the music room and poured myself a glass of tea. I laced it with brandy and drank it down. I would not fail.

  He followed Anna into the room. The three of us stood there for a
moment. No one moved or spoke.

  It’s all right, Anna,” I said. “Leave us.”

  Filled with misgivings, yet reluctant to disobey, Anna backed out of the room and closed the double doors.

  Seth leaned on his cane and looked around. A small fire in the grate, just enough to take the dampness out of the air, cast a warm light on the gold fabrics and furnishings in the room. On top of the enormous grand piano in the corner a candelabrum hung with glittering prisms held eight burning candles, and another stood on the table that also held the samovar and the brandy. It was a beautiful comfortable room, made for pleasure. I wondered if he approved.

  He was wearing evening dress—black cutaway coat, white shirt, white stock, black cloak. He looked as he always did when he was on his way to gamble and to wench in style. It may have been nearly two in the morning on Christmas Day, but in certain parts of New Orleans the fun was just beginning. He tossed his cape over a chair and laid his stick on the round table, next to the samovar. He looked around again, seeing everything saying nothing. Then his eyes rested on me.

  I watched him suspiciously. I had my arguments ready, but I wanted to wait for him to make the first move.

  He did. He came over to me and touched my cheek lightly with the back of his hand. His eyes gleamed wickedly.

  I jerked my head up. My nostrils flared. “Stop that!” I pushed his hand away. He moved closer. I stood my ground, refusing to back down and show him that I was afraid of him. He put his hand on the back of my neck and tried to kiss me. I twisted my face away. “No!”