Rebel Dreams

by Patricia Rice

  Alex put her flushed expression and the papers together with the coincidence of meeting Rory and Farnley, and Henderson leaving, noted Evelyn did not appear to have been out in the cold, and felt his heart sink into his boots. How many reasons could a woman have to consult with family solicitors and lawyers? He had made no further mention of the annulment. Evelyn had obviously grown impatient.

  “Is there something I can do for you?” Her husky voice broke the silence stretching between them.

  Alex had an easy reply for that one. “You can stop seeing Thomas Henderson.” He crossed the room with a lazy grace that disguised his fury and despair.

  “He’s my friend. He’s the only person I know in this town besides your family. You cannot forbid me to see him.” Evelyn held her ground. She could have told him that she had not even seen Henderson, that she had sent him away when his card was presented, but he wouldn’t have believed her.

  “I’ve told you before that I won’t be a cuckold, Evelyn. As long as you are my wife, you will conduct yourself with the discretion the position deserves. I will have Henderson forbidden the door if you persist in your defiance.”

  Alex loomed terrifyingly over her, his hands on his hips as his black eyes glared down at her. They stood toe to toe and Evelyn considered lifting her foot and kicking him in the shin, but she didn’t think that would ameliorate his anger. Instead, she smiled sweetly, though her gaze filled with venom.

  “Very well, my lord and master, I will ask that Thomas not come to the house any longer. No thanks to you, I am learning my way around the city. I’ll simply meet him elsewhere. Is there anything else I might do to please you, sir?”

  Alex swung on his heel and stalked to the far side of the room. “What do you want from me, Evelyn?” He stared over the winter-bare garden below. “I have given you freedom and respected your privacy. I have tried to make you comfortable. I told Deirdre to spare no expense in seeing that you were adequately clothed. I don’t believe you find my family too objectionable. What else can I do to make you happy and keep you away from that scoundrel?”

  He could give of himself and she would be happier than with mansions and silks, but she knew she could not say this to him. In his eyes, he had given her all that he had to offer. No fault lay in the fact that he had no love to share. Sadly she ran her fingers over the satin finish of the mahogany desk.

  “Give me something to do, Alex,” she finally answered. “I am not accustomed to idleness. Deirdre has said I may go over the household accounts, but they are child’s play. I am not needed to help nurse Lord Cranville. I am useless.”

  With hands behind his back and still looking out the window, Alex replied, “All right. I will see what I can do. Cranville Enterprises has its own accountants, and I will not have you working in our warehouses, but perhaps there are some of my daily tasks that you can share. I hadn’t realized that in a house the size of this one there would be nothing to keep you occupied.”

  Evelyn wanted to scream at him, “Of course you didn’t realize, you don’t even know I’m here!” but her emotions were too ambivalent for anger. She wanted to make this marriage work; she just didn’t know where to begin. “Your housekeeper manages very efficiently and consults only with Deirdre. I did not think it my place to interfere.”

  Alex finally turned to face her. “When Everett is better, perhaps we can remove to Cornwall for a while. Deirdre has no position there as she has here. The estate has been sadly neglected. Perhaps you would find more to keep you occupied there.”

  The thought of removing to still another strange place where she would not even have the company of Alex’s family did not ease her misery, but she nodded. “I am willing to try it. Do you think Lord Cranville might be well by spring?”

  “We can only pray. I had best go change for dinner. I cannot find tasks for you immediately, but tomorrow being Christmas, I think you’ll be well occupied. Much of society is out of town, but those who remain behind will stop by. With Everett’s illness, Deirdre hasn’t been accepting callers, but she plans to open the house tomorrow. You stand forewarned.”

  Evelyn offered a bleak smile. “I will welcome the company, thank you.”

  Her look of loneliness startled him. In Boston she had always been surrounded by friends and family, and Alex had never thought of her as being lonely. It was a state he was accustomed to for himself, but not Evelyn. No wonder she sought to be rid of him. He had no friends to whom he could introduce her, and his family was limited. Damn, but he made no fit husband. Why had he ever thought he would?

  Vowing to correct the situation somehow, Alex bowed curtly and left the salon for his own chambers, using the hall doors rather than the ones through her room. He did not feel he had the right to intrude upon the small privacy she possessed.

  ***

  The gaiety and laughter Evelyn knew as Christmas did not fit so well into the formality of Cranville House’s salons. The servants had strung pine roping decorated with holly. The conservatory provided bouquets of brilliant flowers. In the magnificence of velvets, gold, and elegant furniture, these symbols of the holiday appeared more intrusive than merry.

  However, the parade of visitors proved amusing, and with Alex at her side to keep the names and titles and relationships straight, Evelyn bore the day well. Her husband hovered at her shoulder while she sat in the salon exchanging social pleasantries with their company. When the buffet was opened for the evening open house, he filled their plates with the choicest delicacies and found a secluded corner where they could eat and relax. Rory and Alyson joined them, and they made a merry party until Deirdre arrived to chase them out to entertain the guests.

  Alex held her hand as they circulated through the crush. She was physically conscious of his presence in the same way she was aware that her expensive silk clung to her bare shoulders. She knew his breath, his stride, his voice, the texture of his fingers against her palm. By the end of the evening she was so enwrapped in him that she was scarcely aware when the guests left.

  Only when Alex’s arm slipped around her waist and his mouth descended to ply her lips did Evelyn realize they were almost alone. She responded joyously to this first hint of warmth he had offered in months, and his arm tightened until she was crushed against him. Only Rory’s embarrassed cough reminded them they were not private.

  Alex glanced up irritably. “Go along with you,” he responded when Rory and Alyson asked them back to the family salon. “We’ll be there shortly.”

  “The kissing ball’s in there, not here,” Rory reminded him with a grin. “We’ve waited long enough to exchange gifts. We’ll not wait any longer.”

  “Damn you, then be off,” Alex growled.

  Evelyn wasn’t sorry when they left. To be in Alex’s arms again was a gift she hadn’t expected. She had every right to be furious with him, to shun him as he had done her, but all pride was lost in her need for his kiss again. Just his kiss, she told herself.

  Alex traced his finger along the hollow beneath her cheekbones. “We need to talk, Evelyn,” he murmured.

  “That would be the intelligent thing to do,” she agreed, although talking was the last thing on her mind when she rested against his hard body as she did now. She daringly stroked the linen of his shirt, absorbing the heat of his chest and the rhythm of his heart.

  “I’m not certain about our intelligence, but we’ll try it. Come, the others are waiting.” Releasing her waist, Alex formally offered her his arm.

  Fresh punch and cakes awaited in the small parlor where the family gathered. At this late hour, Alyson’s brood had been carried to bed, sated with food and worn out from the excitement of gifts. Jacob had been allowed to remain, however. Weary with the day’s activities, he sat close to his mother. Deirdre had taken a comfortable chair near the fire, while the chair on the opposite side of the grate remained empty. Evelyn clutched Alex’s arm in sorrow, knowing this was where Lord Cranville would sit were he well enough to join them. She brushed a tear from h
er eye.

  The family gifts ranged from extravagant to nonsensical. Evelyn and her mother had used their small hoard of coin to buy modest gifts for all, limiting their use of Alex’s credit. She was relieved that their gifts were not conspicuously poor in comparison with the others. Alyson had knit a foolish pair of mittens for Rory that he insisted on wearing as he opened the rest of his packages. Alex, in turn, had bought Alyson a tawdry pamphlet on interpreting dreams that caused her to fall into convulsions of laughter.

  He seemed pleased by his cousin’s reaction to his jest, but he made no grand flourish as he selected his next gift and handed it to Evelyn. In fact, he did it while the others were still laughing and passing the pamphlet around.

  “Your other gift is apparently snowbound and didn’t make it in time,” he murmured as he handed the small package to her. “I should have considered the weather, but it is too late now. I hope this one is to your taste. I’ve never seen you wear the like, but I thought it fitting.”

  Realizing he meant for her to open it while the others were distracted, Evelyn peeled off the wrappings. Her wide gown practically filled the sofa where they sat, but Alex rested his arm behind her and leaned forward to watch as she pressed open the small box in her hands. She gasped and caressed the lovely parure of tiny diamonds and sapphires. The base of the necklace spread out in a delicate web of gems from which a single perfect pear-shaped diamond hung. The dangling earrings had smaller, similar stones.

  Evelyn clutched the box and looked up to him with tears in her eyes. “It is too much, Alex,” she whispered. “I do not deserve such as this. They’re fit for a queen. How could I—”

  He placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted it. “My wife should have jewels. One day, perhaps, they will become family heirlooms. For now, I wish you to wear them. Tell me only if the style or color displeases you.”

  The heat of his dark eyes as much as his words caused Evelyn to forego any further protest. Fearing she would shame herself before the company, she glanced down to the brilliant sparkle of the rare stones in her lap. “I have never seen anything lovelier, Alex,” she admitted. “My gift to you seems paltry in comparison.”

  “I did not expect you to give me anything at all.” Smiling in obvious pleasure that she had thought of him, Alex took her offering with one hand, while caressing her bare shoulder with the other.

  But he couldn’t unwrap his gift with one hand. Giving up the effort, Alex sat up properly to tear at the wrappings. With evident surprise and amusement he lifted the intricate silver watch fob from its velvet bed. Holding it to the lamplight, he exclaimed, “It’s the Minerva, right down to the figurehead! By Jove, how did you do it?”

  “Rory found the architect’s drawing for me, and Deirdre recommended the jeweler. It is not much, but . . .” Evelyn’s words straggled off as she realized they were the center of attention. Alex continued studying the detail, oblivious of their audience.

  “Let’s see how well the man did,” Rory demanded, holding out his hand for the miniature ship that Alex studied so closely.

  “He did too well.” Refusing Rory’s hand, Alex pulled out his watch chain and fastened the fob to the end, safely tucking it out of sight.

  Evelyn stared at this rude behavior in bewilderment. “Is there something wrong with the design? I will take it back and make it right.”

  Alex stretched out his long legs and smiled his satisfaction while keeping his hand protectively over his watch pocket. He ignored the protests from around the room. “I’m not certain whether to reward the man or challenge him, but he made it right.”

  His smug expression brought instant suspicion, and Evelyn reached around him to try to remove the fob for a closer look. He held it close, refusing access, and she beat his hand with frustration.

  Across from them, Rory began to grin. “Complete with figurehead, you say? A truly creative jeweler.”

  The women turned to him for explanation, but meeting Alex’s gaze, Rory shook his head. Both men grinned at each other in understanding, but before they could be slaughtered by a room full of curious women, a confusion in the foyer caught their attention. Animated voices from the foyer carried through the marble halls.

  Alex leapt to his feet and hurried out. Uncertain whether she should follow, Evelyn hesitated, until a familiar note in the voices caught her ear. She gained her feet at the same time as her mother and rushed after Alex.

  Alex stepped back from welcoming Matilda and Frances Upton as Evelyn and Amanda flew to embrace them. Taking in the situation, Deirdre gave orders for trunks and rooms and fires. Chattering happily, the group made their way back to the warmth of the parlor.

  An unusually subdued Frances hugged her aunt and cousin with fervency. In the months since leaving Boston to live with her mother’s English relations, she had apparently learned it was difficult to be the center of attention outside her own environs. Her attire was far less fashionable here than it had been in Boston.

  “I think we owe much to you, Mr. Hampton. I don’t think we have thanked you enough,” she exclaimed, taking his hand.

  Surprised, Alex bowed and smiled indulgently. “You need not thank me for anything. I’m selfish enough to have done it all for Evelyn.”

  The lateness of the hour and the weariness of the new arrivals soon broke up the gathering. Rory and Alyson made their excuses, although the way they looked at each other gave the real explanation. Jealously Evelyn watched them go, wishing she and Alex could learn to live that way. She turned back into the room to catch his gaze on her, and she blushed under the intensity of his stare. Maybe this night would put an end to their stalemate.

  Her mother and Deirdre were ushering the new arrivals to their rooms. The butler arrived carrying a salver with a letter upon it. Discreetly standing out of the way of the departing ladies, he held the missive out to Alex.

  Evelyn watched in dismay as her husband hastily read the letter, turned a shade whiter, and shoved the paper into his pocket. She hurried to catch up with him when he started for the door.

  “Alex? Is anything wrong?” She caught his arm, forcing him to halt.

  “A little trouble, nothing more. Go on up to bed. Make certain your maid puts your necklace in a safe place.”

  He seemed distracted and without memory that he had promised to talk with her this night. Evelyn released his arm, belatedly recovering some of her pride. “What kind of trouble? Is there anything I can do?”

  “Not a thing. It’s business. I have to go out for a little while.” As if remembering this was a holiday and he had a wife, Alex bent and pecked her on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, little tyrant, and thank you. You could not have found a better gift.”

  She wanted to thank him too, to throw her arms around him and kiss him and show how much she appreciated all he had done to make her Christmas happy. But he was already on his way down the hall and reaching for the cloak the footman held out to him.

  Brokenhearted, she watched him stride out without another look back. Damn the man, every time she imagined he was developing some feeling behind that icy facade of his, he slapped her in the face. When would she learn to hate him?

  Chapter 28

  Alex didn’t come to her that night, and he was conspicuously absent from the breakfast table the next morning. Rory looked grim when his meal was interrupted by a message similar to the one Alex had received, and he hastily offered his excuses. Evelyn looked to Alyson to see how she had taken this abrupt departure.

  Alex’s cousin stirred her tea, a distant look on her face. Feeling Evelyn’s gaze, she looked up but only shook her head with a bleak look. It was that look that caused Evelyn’s stomach to clench with foreboding.

  By evening the news had filtered to the household. One of Cranville Enterprises’ smaller ships had gone down at sea with all hands aboard.

  While the contents of the ship were insured against the loss of cargo, no means of protecting loss of human life existed. The families of all the sailors aboard h
ad to be notified. Evelyn had lived too close to the sea all her life not to know what that meant. The captain’s widow and children would need to be personally notified, and the other families would receive heartbreaking letters of regret. She left the salon, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

  Evelyn wished there were something she could do, but Alex had effectively closed her out again. He didn’t return from the warehouse. Instead of turning to her in this time of need, he had turned inside himself, shutting all else out. She was beginning to recognize the symptoms. Now he would bury himself in overwork and deny the pain that surely he must suffer. Even Alex could not be so callous as to ignore the human tragedy of a shipwreck.

  If he returned that night, she didn’t know of it. When she rose the next day, he was already gone. That he could not come to her with his pain or his problems made her want to scream, but she held her tongue and wandered the house, waiting for his return.

  She had married a man with a problem greater than she could combat. Alex had spent his childhood virtually alone, with only a selfish, demanding mother to turn to. The next years of his life he had spent in challenging everyone and everything he encountered to reject him as the first two women in his life had done. Now that he had a wall around him so thick no one could pierce it, he no longer sought rejection, but he did not remove the barrier either. He was as thoroughly trapped on the inside as she was on the outside, and she could see no means of ever reaching him.

  There had been moments when she thought she had found the secret entrance. Those rare smiles he cast upon her had to count for something. There had been the precious fleeting moments that had brought her to the altar against all common sense, but looking back, they were few and far between. The only times she really felt as if she had touched him were when they made love.

  They were gathering in the salon after dinner when Alex finally appeared. The stormy look on his face and irritated bellow at the servants warned of his mood, but Deirdre ignored the signs to approach him.