Betsey gave a tinkling laugh. "Oh, don't let that stop you. It will be my treat. Next time you shall pay. Come, now, I do so want to talk to you."
Reluctantly Savanna let herself be charmed by Betsey, and opening the door wider, she said politely, "Won't you come in for a minute? I shall have to leave Adam a note."
Unaware of the hard glitter in the green eyes that watched her so closely, Savanna wrote her note to Adam. While she sat at a delicate cherry-wood writing desk, Betsey wandered around the opulent room, enviously comparing its luxurious size and appointments with the smaller, less expensive set of rooms that she and Charles had procured. It wasn't fair, she thought furiously. Adam was hers! She should be Adam's wife and staying here with him in these spacious rooms. Not this hulking nobody!
A fixed smile on her lips, Betsey said, "I must apologize for my behavior this morning—it was such a shock to hear of Adam's marriage. He was always so adamantly opposed to matrimony! Whatever did you do to make him change his mind?"
Savanna flushed, wishing that she possessed a glib tongue. Concentrating on what she was writing, she muttered, "Um, I don't know. We, we, uh, just d-d-decided that it would be a good thing."
"Do you know, I don't believe I ever heard your name mentioned by any of our friends. 'Savanna' is such an unusual name, isn't it? I'm sure I would have remembered it if someone had said it aloud, and certainly if Adam had." She sent Savanna a kind glance. "Do not feel uncomfortable—Adam and I are such very good friends—he tells me everything! Have you known him long?"
"N-n-no. Not long," Savanna mumbled.
"Your marriage... it was rather sudden, wasn't it?"
Savanna's flush increased. Uncertain in her new role as Adam's wife, feeling a little in awe of and inferior to this beautiful young woman who had obviously been on close terms with Adam and who moved in the highest society, Savanna was at a loss. Despite everything, she didn't want to embarrass Adam by being rude to one of his friends and she didn't want to offend Miss Asher—the notion having occurred to her that perhaps she and Miss Asher could become allies. With Miss Asher's help, with someone more worldly and sophisticated than she to show her the way, the transition from Savanna O'Rourke, backwoods tavern owner, to Mrs. Savanna St. Clair, wife of a wealthy, aristocratic gentleman like Adam, might be less arduous. But as the minutes passed, she did wonder if Miss Asher wasn't just a little too nosy and if there wasn't some other reason for her kind invitation. Savanna began to revise her initial favorable thoughts about the young lady.
Stiffly she replied, "If our marriage was sudden, I think that's our business, don't you?"
"Oh, my! I've offended you, haven't I?" Betsey said with some distress. "Forgive me! I didn't mean to! It is just that Adam and I have always been so close, and to suddenly have an utter stranger presented as his wife..." Betsey laughed ruefully. "My wretched tongue! Do forgive me!"
What could Savanna do? Graciously she pushed aside Betsey's polite apologies, but any enthusiasm she might have had for her company had vanished, and she wished she had declined the invitation. Savanna might not, until now, have moved in the highest circles, but instinct told her that Miss Asher was up to no good....
The limited conversation with Savanna had answered several questions that had been burning in Betsey's breast all morning, and she had been able to deduce much more from what Savanna hadn't said than from what she had said. It was apparent that the marriage had not been a love match; it had been sudden, and from her reading of Savanna's apparel, it was also apparent that money, at least money coming from Savanna, had not been an issue. The planter aristocracy in the southern United States was small and virtually everyone knew everyone else and in most cases was related, even if only distantly. The fact that Betsey had never heard anyone mention the name Savanna was telling and she drew the obvious conclusion—Adam's wife was not someone who moved in the upper reaches of society; worse, she probably wasn't even some poor little cousin twice removed of a wealthier, more powerfully connected relative. She was a nobody! And this incensed Betsey almost as much as the fact that Savanna was married to Adam. But having drawn her own conclusions, Betsey was puzzled as to why Adam should have married a provincial miss with no pretension to wealth or power. Oh, there was no doubt that Savanna was a striking creature and that most men would find her attractive, but marriage?
Betsey was mulling this over as the two women left the room and began walking sedately in the direction of the long, curving staircase which led to the foyer of the hotel. What possible reason could Adam have had for having married her? Betsey wondered viciously—not that it made any difference to her plans! She just hadn't quite figured out precisely how she was going to dispose of his present wife. She would have to move swiftly, though, she realized—Adam was a virile, demanding lover and she certainly didn't want to get saddled with another woman's brat!
Betsey stopped as if she had walked into a brick wall. Of course! The stupid bitch was pregnant! That was how she had trapped Adam. The oldest trick in the world.
Oblivious of Betsey standing transfixed behind her, Savanna reached the top of the stairs. Betsey didn't plan what came next—it just happened, rage and fury making her react without thought. An opportunity presented itself and she took it; from the foyer below, no one would see what had happened, and up here there was no one nearby. The sight of Savanna, a pregnant Savanna, Savanna, Adam's wife, standing there with one foot outstretched as she prepared to begin her descent down the stairs was more than Betsey could bear. Her lovely features twisted horribly by the ugly emotions that racked her, she rushed forward and gave Savanna a swift, powerful shove.
Caught without warning, Savanna could not save herself, and a soft, frightened gasp came from her as she pitched violently forward. Frantically she tried to right herself and grabbed at the wooden railing, but her hand missed its mark and sheer momentum sent her crashing uncontrollably down the long staircase. Jolting pain exploded through her as she tumbled and bounced downward to land in a silent, rumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs.
Appalled and excited at the same time, Betsey stared down at Savanna's still form from the top of the stairs. She had done it! Killed the silly bitch! Her eyes glittered with satisfaction. As the horrified onlookers in the foyer rushed forward to lend aid, her elation faded a bit and a strong sense of self-preservation asserted itself. Fixing a distressed expression on her beautiful face, Betsey floated gracefully down the steps, crying out in a pitiful voice, "Oh! Oh! What can have happened? I saw her start to fall and tried to grab her! Oh! Oh! This is dreadful! The poor, dear girl! Tell me she is not dead!"
As several people rushed to comfort Betsey, who was sobbing prettily, the gentleman who had first reached Savanna's side glanced up at her. "She is not dead yet," he said soberly, "but she is bleeding and I fear the worst."
Not dead? Betsey could have stamped her little foot with vexation, but lifting her face from where she had buried it in her hands, she stared in riveted fascination at the crimson stain that seeped out from the lower half of Savanna's body.
Chapter 19
Savanna drifted into awareness of her surroundings and in the dim light she stared, puzzled, at the satin hangings of the bed. As she regained her senses, she recognized where she was—in the bed that she and Adam shared at the hotel. But why was she in bed? Surely it was not still nighttime? And where was Adam? She frowned, trying to remember. The events of the day flashed through her mind... except that once she had left her rooms with Betsey Asher, her memory dimmed. Vaguely she recalled that they had walked down the hall together and she could faintly remember standing at the top of the stairs preparing to descend, but after that there was a terrifying blank.
Filled with foreboding, she jerked upright, only to gasp and fall backward as pain erupted through her body. She ached in every bone and muscle, and for one terrible moment she feared that she would faint. What had happened to her? What was wrong with her?
There was a curious emptiness within h
er and her breath caught painfully in her throat as she became aware of the thick padding between her legs... as if someone had tried to stanch the flow of blood....
Her baby! Comprehension exploded in her brain—she had lost her baby!
Savanna had always viewed her pregnancy with mixed emotions, and her life had been in such turmoil since before even its conception that, beyond a fierce protectiveness toward her unborn child, she had never been able to experience the more tender emotions that most expectant mothers did. But the knowledge that the child was no more sent a shaft of agony through her. A broken cry came from her and she sobbed quietly, the tears streaming down her cheeks as the enormity of it hit her. She would never hold this child in her arms, never hear its first cries or touch the downy softness of its head....
The silk bed-curtains were thrust open and faint morning light spilled into the widening gap as Adam, his face haggard and drawn, stared down at her. "You're awake," he said thickly and with such heartfelt relief and great satisfaction that Savanna could only look at him in astonishment.
Her lovely blue-green eyes drenched in tears, she stared at his strained features. He looked terrible. His lean face was shadowed with bearded stubble, his cravat crumpled and his hair mussed and untidy. But it was the agonized expression in his dark blue eyes that made Savanna look at him in growing confusion. Had the baby meant that much to him? The memory of the way he had kissed her abdomen and of the wonder and awe in his voice when he had said, "My child!" swept over her, and she knew that for whatever reasons, he, too, mourned the loss of their child.
In a pitiful voice she asked, "What happened? How did I come to lose the baby?"
Adam's heart twisted painfully in his chest as he relived those first terrible moments when he had returned to the hotel and found the foyer in an uproar and a crowd gathered around the fallen body of his wife. He closed his eyes in anguish. He should never have left her! If he hadn't let his damnable, damnable temper rule him, this would never have happened. It was all his fault! It didn't lessen his pain any to know that he had already realized that stalking off in a flaming rage was no answer to their problems. He had stormed but a short distance away from the hotel before the worst of his hurt fury had dissipated, and once cooler reasoning had taken over, he could see that finding solace in the arms of another woman was not the way to handle the situation. Savanna was his wife! She had to be made to understand that their lives were inalterably linked and that they were going to make this marriage work. He had spun around on his heels and walked rapidly back in the direction of the hotel, his mind busy on ways to woo his intractable bride, thinking of all manner of schemes to win her love....
The devastation he had felt when he had stared down at Savanna's crumpled, bleeding form swept over him again, and dropping down gently on the bed beside her, mindful of her injuries, he carefully folded her into his arms. His mouth against her temple, he confessed baldly, "I thought you were dead! I have never been so frightened in my entire life."
It was wonderful to have his strong arms around her, and leaning confidently against him, her hand caressing his chest, she asked softly, "But what happened? I can remember nothing beyond starting down the stairs to have lemonade with Miss Asher."
Adam's mouth thinned. He would have liked to wring Betsey's neck! If she hadn't meddled, hadn't been trying to worm her way into Savanna's good graces, none of this would have happened. She'd been like a little bee buzzing around him as she, and the physician who had been summoned, had bent over Savanna where she'd lain at the base of the stairs. "Oh, Adam!" Betsey had exclaimed. "It was terrible! I was just being nice to her—we were going to have lemonade and she fell down the stairs. We were standing there and then all of a sudden she just fell! It was horrible for me! Just horrible! I'm sure I don't know how I've kept from fainting from the shock of it all."
Adam had brutally ignored her and once it had been determined that it was safe to move Savanna and she had been solicitously transported to their rooms, it had given him great pleasure to shut the door in Betsey's face and her chatter. He had barely understood a word she had said anyway, all his attention being on Savanna. He never again wanted to experience anything remotely like the night that had just passed. The loss of the baby hadn't really impinged upon him in the beginning. He'd been too terrified of losing Savanna to fully understand what had happened. The physician had been grave as he had worked over Savanna, but after an anguished, interminable length of time to Adam, the physician had nodded and said, "She should recover without any lasting harm. She is sleeping now—she must have taken a hard knock on the head on the stairs, but I believe that by morning she will come to her senses. There are no broken bones, and though she has bled heavily, she is young and healthy and should, within a few weeks, be her old self."
All through that seemingly endless night, Adam had sat at Savanna's bedside, sometimes wiping her brow with a damp cloth, other times just helplessly holding her limp hand, willing her to wake and look at him. He had thought about the baby during those long, black, lonely hours, and the heaviness in his spirit had grown. The baby hadn't even been real to him until last night, it had merely been the means to make Savanna marry him, but the knowledge that the child was dead had made him feel as if his living heart had been ripped out of his chest. It hurt him deeply to know that there was nothing he could do, nothing he could do for either his lost child or Savanna, but wait here and pray that when morning came, Savanna would indeed wake. He had been in the other room ordering a pot of coffee when Savanna had awakened, and upon returning to the bedchamber, he had heard her soft sob.
That sound had rent his very heart and as he gathered her closer, he kissed her cheek and murmured, "Don't talk now, darling. The physician said you were to rest."
"But how can I rest if my mind is going to be full of questions?" Savanna asked softly. "Please, Adam, tell me what happened."
Reluctantly he told her what he knew: she and Betsey Asher had been on their way for some lemonade, and she had somehow missed her step and fallen down the stairs.
Looking down into her pale face, he inquired gently, "Do you remember any of it?"
Savanna shook her head, wincing as her bruised muscles protested. "Only that we were going for the lemonade and that I was standing at the top of the stairs... after that it is all a total blank, until I woke up here."
"The physician believes that you might have suffered a fainting spell and that's what caused you to fall. It sounds reasonable. Betsey says that one minute you were there at the top of the stairs and the next you were tumbling downward."
"Oh," Savanna said blankly, something niggling at the back of her mind. She frowned. She had never fainted before in her life, and that explanation didn't satisfy her. There was something...
"About the baby," Adam began tentatively. "Do you want to talk about it?"
A smothered sob came from her and she nodded. "I wanted it, Adam. Despite everything."
"I know, sweetheart," he replied softly. "I know. I did, too."
There was silence between them for a long time, each lost in their thoughts about the child who had died, but eventually they began to talk of their loss, sharing the sorrow only those who have suffered the same devastating experience can understand.
Adam watched Savanna's expressive features closely, and after the first outpouring of grief had subsided and he saw that she was tiring, he guided the conversation away from the child and convinced her to rest. She slept nearly the entire day, waking in the early evening to the aroma of chicken soup and freshly baked bread.
She lay there for a moment, her first waking thoughts of the child she had lost. Her eyes clouded and she knew that the pain would never truly go away. It might lessen, but the memory would always be there within her.
With an effort she tore her thoughts away from the loss and tried to concentrate on more practical things. To her surprise, she discovered she was ravenously hungry and she started to sit up, only to give a soft moan as w
renched muscles made themselves felt.
Once again the bed-curtains were jerked aside and Adam stared in at her. He looked much better this time, his jaw clean-shaven and a warm expression glinting in those sapphire-blue eyes. Sending her a smile that turned her heart right over in her breast, he murmured, "I thought the smell of food would waken you. How are you feeling? Well enough to eat?"
Savanna nodded, and felt much improved after she had hungrily consumed two bowls of the soup and half a loaf of still-warm-from-the-oven bread. When Adam escorted her back to the bed, she eyed it with loathing. With a look of entreaty at him, she said, "Please! I am not an invalid! Must I go back to bed? I'm sure I would feel much better if I could change my clothes and sit up for a while."
Adam eyed her keenly. Her color was good and she did not seem unsteady on her feet. He shrugged. "I don't think there can be any objection to your resting on the sofa in the other room."
Shortly thereafter, feeling refreshed from the sponge bath she had taken, with her hair falling in a glorious red-gold cloud about her shoulders and wearing one of the becoming gowns that had arrived from Madame Galland's, Savanna was ensconced in the sitting room, pillows behind her back and a soft blanket across her lap. She wasn't about to admit it, but the effort had tired her and she was glad to do nothing more than sink down onto the sofa and allow Adam to drape a lovely paisley shawl, also from Madame Galland's, around her shoulders. Having seen to all her needs, he took a seat in a high-backed chair directly across from her.
Each Time We Love Page 29