Stripping off her clothes and oblivious to her aching ankle, she went and knelt beside him. Her lips touched his forehead, his eyes and his mouth, rousing him from his slumber.
A startled look wreathed his features, but she paid scant attention as her mouth and hands moved over his body. He groaned in pleasure. “Allison, what are you doing to me?”
She looked at him, a seductive gleam in her eyes. “I’m loving my husband.”
“You remember?” His voice was whispery soft.
“Yes,” she breathed and kissed him deeply. “But let’s not talk right now, Paul.”
And they didn’t. For the waning hours of the night, they rekindled their desire, awakening each other’s body to the glorious surge of love. When the rising sun bathed the cabin in a luminescent glow, they lay spent in each other’s arms, exhausted but completely satiated.
Planting a tiny kiss on his chest, her periwinkle blue gaze roamed upwards to his face. She didn’t feel the old need to tell him she loved him or to hear it in return. Words were unnecessary. Now, her heart knew it.
“Paul, take me home.”
He nuzzled the top of her head. “Today, my love. We’ll leave today. But first…” He grinned wickedly, his hands scorching her flesh as renewed desire for her overcame his exhaustion.
39
After a few hours sleep, Allison awoke, and slipping out of Paul’s embrace, dressed and walked to the lake. She took small, careful steps because her ankle still hurt a bit though not as much as the night before. She smiled, remembering their passion, and knew that once they were home again and reunited with the twins, everything would be perfect. However, her happiness was marred by the memory of Howard swirling away from her the day of the accident. She dreaded informing Constance of his death, because she felt some responsibility since he had insisted on accompanying her.
But no matter—they would soon be home. Home! As she bent down by the shoreline and rinsed her face with the cool water, the excitement in her face was evident in her wavering reflection. God, she was happy, happier than she had ever been in her life, and this time nothing would keep them apart.
Another face, with a reddish beard, reflected next to hers. She blinked in astonishment, but the leering, evil look did not disappear. “My, but you’re a pretty little wanton,” a voice said behind her.
She twisted around, panic rising in her. “Who … who are you?”
The man wasn’t much taller than she, his body covered in leather and pelts. Though he had silently come upon her, she saw he wasn’t an Indian but was apparently familiar with native culture because he carried a tomahawk and wore leggings. He was just inches from her, and she caught the scent of stale body odor mixed with fresh whiskey. If he touched her, she knew she’d be sick. Already bile rose in her throat at the mere thought.
A thin hand reached out and touched a wisp of her hair. “Real, pretty girl,” he said. “Saw you last night through the window, mating with that bloke. I sure could use some fun, too.” From the lecherous gleam in his eyes, his intentions were only too clear.
She backed away. The lake was behind her and she instantly knew that if she had to swim, she would. “That was my husband. If I don’t return soon, he’ll search for me. You’re no match against him.”
“You don’t think so? Well, let me just give you some proof, missy.” He grabbed her, his lips viciously pressing against hers and smothering a shriek of protest.
She clawed at his face but this only enraged him further and he persisted in his exploration of her mouth with his tongue while pinching a nipple with two bony fingers. She felt like she was going to faint and would have if a man’s voice hadn’t cut sharply through the woods.
“That’s enough, Adams!”
Adams instantly released her, and she staggered but caught herself. They both turned towards the voice, and in that moment Allison felt a surge of hope as she recognized the man. He was dressed in bedraggled clothing, the very same clothes he wore the day of the accident, but his face was now covered with a dark beard.
“Howard! You’re alive.” Allison jerked away from Adams and ran to Howard, sure that he would protect her from the filthy little man.
A crooked grin twisted his face. “Yes, but if Adams wouldn’t have found me, I’d still be staggering around in the wilderness. He’s been a good friend. And it seems you’ve found your Paul.”
She nodded, remembering that Adams had seen her and Paul making love. Had Howard also observed them? “Paul will be glad to see you,” she said.
“I doubt that,” he cryptically remarked.
“Let’s go tell him.” Allison started to move away, eager to return to the cabin, when Howard’s hand caught her in a steely vise.
“You’re coming with us, Allison.”
She noticed the hard edge of his voice, the determined glint in his eyes. Her earlier gladness to see him dissolved, and she knew Howard intended to keep her from Paul. “Paul and I are returning to Ireland today. Come with us,” she told him, vainly attempting to mask her fear.
“Don’t patronize me, my dear betrothed, for that is what you shall be when this day is over. Yes, we will return home, but without your Paul. He shall be cold as stone very shortly.”
His implications were clear. “You can’t mean to harm Paul.”
“Then think again. I’ll do anything to possess you and Fairfax Manor. Anything!”
And there was no doubt in her mind that he would. She must reach Paul, save him, somehow play for time. “I’ll come with you, just don’t hurt him,”
“Very noble, my dear.” Her sincerity caught him off guard and he slackened his hold momentarily. She felt the pressure of his fingers loosening, and with a quickness she didn’t know she possessed, she kicked his shin and dashed off along the pathway, her voice screaming Paul’s name the whole way.
“Bloody bitch!” she heard Howard curse behind her. Just as she made it into the clearing by the cabin, Adams caught up and knocked her to the ground.
The cabin door was thrown open and Paul ran out. Barely able to scramble into his pants, he looked astonished to find her upon the ground, a strange man atop her. Then he saw Howard veering straight for him. Instantly he knew the other man’s intentions when the barrel of a pistol glittered like silver in the sunlight. Paul took cover behind a tree, unarmed and unsure as he tried to think of a way to rescue his wife.
A bitter laugh escaped from Howard’s snarling lips. “She’s mine now, Paul, as she was meant to be, as Fairfax Manor shall soon be. You always thought I was a dolt, but now you’re the one who’s a dolt—unarmed and at my mercy.”
Paul spotted a tree limb on the ground. Picking it up, he held it tightly, intent upon bashing in Howard’s skull. If only he could rush him somehow. “Let’s settle this in a gentlemanly fashion, Howard.”
“Do you think I’m a fool?” Howard cockily brandished the pistol in the air. “I’ve learned quite a bit during my time in the wilderness, and I’m more determined than ever to have both Fairfax Manor and your wife. I know that if we settle this in a so-called gentlemanly fashion, you would win, Paul, so that is why I intend to shoot you down before Allison’s eyes. Perhaps then she’ll realize just how determined I am.”
Adams loosened his hold upon her, and Allison was able to breathe. Taking advantage of Adams’ interest in Howard and Paul, she cried out, “You’re a pitiful excuse for a man, Howard. No wonder Beth never loved you.” Not really knowing anything about him and Beth, she was grasping at straws. And her ploy worked.
Howard removed his gaze from Paul long enough to glare at her, and this gave Paul time to dash forward, the heavy limb raised. But Adams’ voice rang out in warning, and Howard turned and pulled the trigger.
Allison screamed as Paul staggered, a crimson tide of blood stained his chest. When he looked at her, it was as if he didn’t see her, and when he fell, she attempted to run to him, but Adams held her back.
“Paul! Paul!” she shrieked. But he laid still
, not moving.
Howard, exultant, dragged her screeching like a banshee, away from the cabin, along the shoreline and pushed her into a canoe. Adams paddled away, her last look was of Paul lying dead upon the ground. The late morning sunshine warmed the earth and covered her face with its golden glow, but she had ceased to feel it.
40
“Howard, do stand still. This jumping up and down like a puppet is quite distracting.” Constance sat seemingly unruffled, a wine glass in her hand and a thoughtful expression on her perfectly shaped face.
“By Jove, I can’t. I don’t think I shall ever be still again.” He poured himself a brandy and raised it in a toast to his sister as the brilliant autumn sun of Quebec shone through the windows of his uncle’s drawing room. “I am sorry father has passed on,” he added, “but now I am master of Ballysheen Hall.”
Indeed, he should have felt sorrow at the news of his father’s death, but the old man had been in poor health for some time and leaving this world must have been a blessing. Howard knew it was a blessing for himself. He now possessed the entire fortune, the estate, and the hereditary title. And soon, very soon, Allison Fairfax and her fortune would fall into his hands. It was just a matter of convincing the woman to accept his marriage proposal, and now he knew how. Power was a heady thing like aged brandy and young women, he had decided.
“You don’t seem the least disturbed by the terms of father’s will,” he said, eyes narrowing at Constance.
“I’m not. I think father wished to be fair and had my best interests at heart. But don’t you feel it a wee bit unfair for him to have placed my fortune in trust with you until my twenty-first birthday? That’s well over a year away.” She watched him carefully, gauging his reaction.
Howard shrugged. “The old man knew how hot-blooded you are by nature, and I suppose he trusted me to look after our interests as well as the family interests, since they are interrelated.”
This was what Constance feared. Howard might not be as dull and stupid as she supposed. She looked momentarily at the sunlight skimming the tabletop where she rested her glass. She must secure her fortune before her birthdate and marry John Milligan, the army captain she loved with all her heart. The money would give them a start in life and further his career. Not that he was penniless, but he was a youngest son and not likely to inherit much when his own father died. She still wanted the material luxuries which John wouldn’t be able to provide for her. She must ask outright and stop playing games with her brother. Her chance for happiness was too important.
She smiled sweetly at her brother. “Howard, I should like to claim my inheritance now, if that is agreeable to you, and I can take up residence here.”
He cleared his throat. “I see. You wish to remain in Quebec because of an army captain.”
“Yes, I love him.”
“If I remember correctly, you were in love with Paul not so long ago.”
“Oh, that,” she waved her hand in the air and giggled. “That was nothing compared to what I feel for John. I love him truly, completely. If you give me my money, we can wed.”
“I have no qualms about releasing your money, Constance, yet I won’t do so until our return to Ireland.”
“Why?”
“I want you to marry Sir Lester Colfax, then I shall give you your money.”
She stood up, anger and disappointment twisting her beautiful features. “I shall not! Sir Lester is nearly sixty years old and practically senile. I want a young man.”
“Sir Lester won’t mind if you take a lover, Constance, since he is a doddering old fool. He’ll be quite easy to satisfy and won’t inquire into your personal affairs.”
“But I don’t love him,” she wailed like a little girl.
Howard stood up, amused to have Constance’s back against a wall. It gave him great satisfaction since she had botched things so badly with Paul. “So? Your army captain is madly in love with you, I suppose. You have him wound around your finger.”
“Yes.”
“Then marry him without the money.”
“You know I can’t do that,” she hissed. “We need that money.”
“Ask your beloved to wait until your birthday, but I doubt if he will. I find your young man to be quite ambitious and greedy. I had a talk with him yesterday morning, and it appears that he isn’t as much in love with you as you think. I also ran into him last evening at Lord Marley’s party and the lord’s pretty elder daughter graced his arm.”
“I don’t believe you.” Even as she spoke the words, she knew Howard was telling the truth. John mightn’t be too interested in her now that she had to wait to collect her inheritance. Damn her father! Damn Howard! “You’ll be sorry for this, Howard. You want to make an alliance with Sir Lester, just as you intend to marry Allison for her fortune.”
“Is that so terrible, my dear sister? I have no doubt that you shall marry the old coot, you love money and yourself more than any man.”
How she hated him, despised him! “You shall be sorry for this! I guarantee you’ll pay for what you’ve done to John and me.”
“How melodramatic,” was his only comment as she left the room. He picked up his glass and finished the brandy before going upstairs to check on his reluctant bride-to-be.
Allison heard his footsteps in the hall and held her breath. Would this be the day he forced her to submit to him like the prisoner she was? He had been threatening her, but she’d never willingly come to him. Never.
How she survived the trip back to Quebec was a mystery. In fact she barely remembered anything—eating, sleeping, walking were automatic. All she recalled was the prone figure of her husband, lying in the clearing as the morning sun bounced off his blond hair and his bloodstained chest. Paul was dead. Dead! How was she to go on without him?
But, from the first, Howard made it abundantly clear that he intended to marry her whether she wished it or not. Each day he unlocked the bedroom door and calmly waited, blocking her exit. “What’s your answer?” was his constant question.
Her answer was always the same. Never would she agree to marry the murderer of her husband. Always he nonchalantly shrugged as if her answer were unimportant, leaving the room and relocking the door.
Today, she heard the key click in the lock and watched Howard enter. But instead of questioning her, he came forward, hands clasped behind him.
“You’re looking well,” he commented crisply. His small eyes surveyed her plain black gown, the somberness relieved only by the white lace at the neckline. “I shall be glad when you wear something brighter.”
“Need I remind you that I am mourning the death of my husband, murderer.”
“Such a sharp tongue. Sometimes I’m amazed at the change in you. You used to be such an agreeable little wren, so docile and unassuming. Now, you’re a beautiful sharp-tongued bitch, but I’ll I have you yet, my dear.” Anger flared in her eyes, and this brought a smug smile to his face.
“You’ll have to force me, Howard. I detest you—despise you!”
“Perhaps that is true, but all the same you’ll marry me and the ceremony shall take place at Fairfax Manor upon our return. I want everyone to witness our exchange of’ vows, to know that I am master of you and your home.”
“No! I will tell the authorities you murdered my husband.”
“Yes, you may, but who will believe you? Who will believe that you actually found him in the wilderness? If you don’t marry me, those precious children Paul fathered shall suddenly and mysteriously disappear. I have many acquaintances who will do anything for even a small amount of money. You’ll never see your little darlings again.”
Allison practically went limp, but a strength of will kept from falling. She didn’t doubt his threat. Howard was capable of violence and murder, and she knew her children’s safety meant nothing to him. Douglas and Kathleen were all that was left of Paul. There was no other choice but to make him believe she consented.
He read the silent acquiescence in her face.
“You’ve made a wise choice, my dear.” He touched a long strand of hair, caressing it between his fingers. “I could force you into my bed now, but that would defeat my purpose. When I make love to you, I want you to know that I own you. Only after our marriage will I claim your body. Then you can’t legally deny me. When I am your husband, I promise that you won’t be so nasty when I take you. That lovely voice will cry out in ecstasy, and you’ll wonder why you ever loved a man like Paul when you could always have had me.”
She held herself in check. She was frightened for her life and for her children. How long would this nightmare go on?
Howard left the room, pleased with himself to have Allison at last in a vulnerable position. He had meant his threat against her children, and if she didn’t fully cooperate, he would have no qualms in arranging their disappearance.
For some strange reason, as he entered his room, Beth was on his mind. He had loved her in his way and thought about her often. But soon, he’d be master of Fairfax Manor, and she would be forced to do his bidding, despite the simpleton she had married. He smiled to realize that he could bed Allison as his wife and then Beth as his mistress.
Ah, power was wonderful.
41
The return voyage to Ireland was the longest two months of her life. Allison felt her life was over. She was going home but without Paul, and she didn’t know how Quint and Dera would accept the news of their son’s death. But hope surged through her when she thought of Quint. Surely, he’d prevent her marriage to Howard and protect his grandchildren from such a vicious man, the murderer of his son. Yes, Quint would help her.
At times, Constance expressed sorrow at the marriage she was doomed to enter with Sir Lester Colfax but never to Howard. “Why don’t you refuse to marry him?” Allison asked her one day as they sat on deck.
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