While Matthew might have agreed with some of the statements made by Mr. Marshall—it had been a shocking evening—he didn't relish the other man's assessment of his eldest son... even if it might be proven true. His handsome face appearing older than his sixty years, Matthew said stiffly, "I cannot apologize sufficiently for this unfortunate incident, but until Morgan's guilt or innocence has been established, I would appreciate it, if for no other reason than our long friendship, that you refrain from casting slurs about my son."
Mr. Marshall sniffed and muttered peevishly, "Oh, very well, but I don't know how I am going to hold my head up again. My darling Melinda will never be able to meet anyone who was present here tonight without dying of shame! And the wasted food! My God—"
"If that's all that's bothering you," Morgan said nastily, "send the bills to me! As for your shame and embarrassment, you should have no trouble laying everything at my door....you have already begun to do so! I'm positive that by tomorrow morning, friendship or not, you will be joining in with the hue and cry of the pack in shrieking my many sins to the heavens!"
Mr. Marshall shrank back slightly at the expression on Morgan's face, wondering how he could ever have considered Morgan Slade as a man worthy of his sweet Melinda, but then remembering all the broad acres and money that went with the heir to Bonheur, he had second thoughts. A man was entitled to a show of strength now and then—women seemed to like that sort of thing—and who was he to whistle down a fortune for his daughter? Besides, subsequent events might prove that Morgan was innocent... and then where would they be? Conciliatorily, he said, "Oh, come now, there is no need for such hot statements among friends. We are all under a severe strain, and I think it would be best for us all to have a good night's sleep and discuss it further in the morning. We, none of us, are at our best at the moment."
Morgan's face twisted into a sneer, but Matthew forestalled the inflammatory words his son was likely to fling by saying with more heartiness than he felt, "An excellent idea! I think by tomorrow morning we will all view this in a better light. Please ring for the servants to bring our carriage round, and have someone see if my wife will ready herself for the ride home."
Leonie, who had remained silent, unconsciously rubbing her wrist where Morgan's fingers had bruised the tender flesh, spoke up, "And me, monsieur, what of me? Am I to simply disappear overnight so that your lives will go on just as they have?"
Morgan walked over to her and with a tanned hand he tipped up her chin. Smiling, not a nice smile either, he drawled, "You, my dear? Well, you shall of course accompany us to Benheur. After all, we can't have all these questions unanswered, can we?"
Leonie tried to move away from him, but when she took a step backwards, she found herself up against a piece of furniture. Glaring up at his dark face, she agreed tightly. "Non! Of course not."
Still smiling that not very nice smile, Morgan purred with deceptive cordiality, "Fine. Then you will have no objections to riding with me in my curricle to the plantation. I'm certain we shall find several things to discuss on the way home."
Leonie felt her heart begin to beat very fast, and just a little frightened by the cold promise in those blue eyes, she blurted out breathlessly, "That is not necessary. I have taken rooms at a tavern here in Natchez and I shall stay there for the night."
"Oh, no, we can't have that," Morgan murmured softly. "It wouldn't be seemly for the woman who claims to be my wife to stay at a common inn."
Leonie swallowed nervously, deciding that she much preferred the furious man who had hurt her wrist to this calm, apparently polite gentleman who said all the right and polite things with his mouth, but whose eyes said something entirely different. He was standing too close to her, and there was such an air of menace about that big, powerful body that she knew the last thing in the world she was going to do was ride off into the night with him.
"Thank you, monsieur, but I would prefer to keep my own arrangements," Leonie said stubbornly. "If someone will kindly see that I have transportation back to King's Tavern, I shall be quite happy."
"But I won't be," Morgan drawled. "Having been separated from you for—ah, let me see, almost six years is it? I can hardly bear to let you out of my sight."
It was obvious he meant nothing of the kind, but Matthew, still not certain which one of them he believed, decided that it would be best if the young woman did stay at Bonheur until things were settled. Kindly he said, "My dear, while of late I seldom find myself in agreement with my son, in this case I believe he is right. You must make Bonheur your home until we straighten out this tangle. It will be much better for everyone."
Ignoring Morgan, who still stood too close to her for comfort, Leonie looked across the room to Matthew, her indecision clear. This was not how she had envisioned things. She had never meant to intrude into Morgan Slade's life beyond what was necessary to retrieve her dowry. Certainly she had never planned to live in his home or to take her place as his real wife—something that might very well happen, she admitted with a sinking feeling in her stomach, if Matthew Slade had his way. She sensed correctly that Morgan's father was leaning more and more in her favor, and while that should have elated her, it gave her instead a feeling of disquiet. Matthew Slade did not look the sort of man who would calmly allow his daughter-in-law simply to disappear. If he decided she was indeed Morgan's wife, then he would insist she become one of the family—something Leonie had no intention of doing!
She hadn't wanted Morgan Slade for a husband six years ago and she definitely didn't want him for one now. Mon Dieu! Not after what had happened this evening. Even the thought of the last and final piece of paper she had that he had signed in New Orleans gave her no comfort. Risking a glance at his hard, lean face, she quickly dropped her eyes at the mixture of insolence and something else which she couldn't define that flickered in the depths of those dark blue eyes. Non! The piece of paper that he had signed waving away his rights of husband would prove a frail, if nonexistent, barrier to him, if he decided he wished to be her husband in fact as well as name.
As she hesitated, trying desperately to find a graceful way out of the situation, Morgan, who had been watching the vivid face intently, and mistaking the reasons for her hesitation, said dryly, "Not quite working out as you planned, is it, little witch?"
Leonie shot him a look full of loathing and admitted honestly "Non! It is not.... I did not expect you to pretend we had never met!"
Morgan's eyes narrowed, but any retort he might have made was forestalled quickly by Leonie. The delicate features framed enchantingly by her tawny curls, Leonie looked appealingly across to Matthew Slade. "Monsieur," she said quietly, "there is no need to take me into your home." And when Matthew seemed inclined to argue, she added reluctantly, "I am not alone, there are others with me besides my servants."
If there was anything besides the agreement concerning conjugal rights that Leonie wished to avoid revealing, it was Justin's existence. In one respect, Morgan's flat denial of ever having known her made it easier to claim Justin was his son, but on the other hand, she was very much afraid that if Matthew realized there was a child involved, he would be even more adamant about her remaining here in Natchez as Morgan's wife. It was an unholy dilemma. She had hoped that she alone could transact any business between them and that if she were lucky, she could leave Natchez and Morgan Slade behind... before he learned of the child.
But nothing was turning out as she had thought it would. A bald announcement at his betrothal ball to another woman certainly had not been considered. Nor had she thought to meet his parents, or any of his family for that matter. And now, his father was forcing information out of her she would rather not divulge.
"Oh," Matthew asked curiously. "I thought you said that your grandfather was dead? And that he was your only living relative?"
Morgan moved even closer to Leonie, and not even aware he did it, his hand closed around her slender arm, and almost jealously he demanded, "Yes, you did say you were alone
in the world, didn't you? Forget something? Like a lover?"
Leonie flushed with anger, and vainly attempting to shrug off his detaining hand, she muttered furiously, "I do not have a lover!"
"Well, then?" Morgan inquired silkily.
Searching frantically for a way to keep Justin a secret, Leonie admitted unwillingly, "I have a female companion... she and I have grown up together. Yvette is like a sister to me. There are also two black families who are with us." Forcing herself to pretend Morgan was not standing so still beside her or that his hand wasn't firmly holding her arm, she smiled briefly at Matthew. "They are freed slaves, but they insist that they belong to me. I couldn't leave them behind."
Matthew's face broke into his first real smile since Leonie had met him. The fact that she had a companion and old family retainers relieved his mind a great deal. A scheming hussy would not travel so, and wondering unhappily if perhaps his son didn't have a lot of explaining to do, Matthew said warmly, "I see no reason why they should cause any trouble." Glancing at his gold pocket watch, he murmured with surprise. "Well! It is not more than half-past ten—if we do not waste any more time, I think within the hour we can have all of you settled at Bonheur."
"Monsieur," Leonie began desperately, but at Matthew's questioning look, she said lamely, "I—I would rather not stay at Bonheur." And grasping at straws, anything to stave off the revelation of her son, she added earnestly, "There seems to be some doubt in your mind about what I have told you tonight, and until that is resolved, I would prefer not to partake of your exceedingly kind offer of hospitality."
Matthew couldn't honestly say that he had decided she was telling the truth, but the evidence was damning and while still hoping that there was a logical explanation for her accusations, he was aware that with every passing moment that her story took on more credibility. Aloud, he merely said calmly, "I can understand your feelings, my dear, but I feel it will be much better for all of us if you and your party stay at Bonheur. Tomorrow we will all discuss the matter further and between us, we shall thrash out this affair."
"But, monsieur... !" Leonie protested frantically, feeling as if her entire life was being taken over. "You don't understand!"
"What doesn't he understand?" Morgan inquired dangerously into her ear. "That you hadn't meant for the game to go this far? Or that it is really the money you are after, and not the comfort and safety of a family?"
"Non!" Leonie burst out angrily, throwing Morgan a scathing look, the golden flecks burning so brightly in the almond-shaped eyes that their color was a molten golden-green.
"Then why the hesitation, cat-eyes? It's what you came after, isn't it?"
"My dowry only!" Leonie spat back. "Only what you agreed to give me... nothing more!"
Through cold blue eyes, Morgan assessed her flushed face, wishing he wasn't quite so aware of the bewitching features and the soft body so near his own. Now was a time for detachment, a time for cool, clever reasoning, and all he wanted to do was find a private place and discover if that mouth was as sweet and passionate as it looked. He was also icily furious at the way she was gulling his father. How dare this little charlatan rearrange his life this way!
And to think his father, and Dominic too from the look of him, gave credence to her story! Good God, what sort of a monster did they think he was? Barely holding his temper in check, Morgan snarled, "How easy for you to say that now... now that you have brought yourself to my family's attention and presented them with your filthy lies! Do you really believe my father, honorable man that he is, will let me merely pay you off and send you on your way?" Morgan laughed harshly, "You made a drastic miscalculation there, sweetheart, if that was your plan!"
"Morgan's right, my dear, even if I find his way of expressing it distasteful. I am not unconvinced that you are telling the truth, and if your story proves to be legitimate, then I must insist you join our family and let the rest of us show you we have little in common with your husband other than name." Those were painful words for Matthew to say, but they accurately reflected his feelings. The more he heard and the more he saw, the more he began to believe Leonie. Morgan's actions tonight had shocked him, shocked him even more than the growing belief that his son had acquired a wife years ago and had been on the verge of committing bigamy. He had never thought to see a son of his manhandle a woman, much less ever hear him speak to her in this insulting fashion—he was ashamed and disillusioned. Sending Leonie a painful smile, he added, "You must let us care for you, my child, until we have settled this matter."
"Isn't that my business?" Morgan asked tightly. "After all, it appears that everyone is positive she is my wife! In that case, her welfare should be left to me. I should be the one to take care of her."
"But you haven't done so in the past, have you?" Matthew returned sternly.
Morgan hadn't felt his face burn in years but it did now, and it didn't do him any good to know that he was innocent. Had everyone gone mad? His father's words left him feeling defeated and helpless. Aware that further argument would be useless, he slowly released Leonie's arm and turned away, shrugging his broad shoulders.
"Well, now that we've settled that point," Matthew said heavily, "I think we should see about removing ourselves from here... and then see to it that the rest of Leonie's party is transported to Bonheur."
Leonie swallowed painfully, knowing that the moment of truth was upon her. She had to tell them of Justin! Obviously she was not going to be able to escape staying at Bonheur, and it was just as obvious that there was no way she could hide Justin's existence any longer. Taking a deep breath, she licked her bottom lip nervously and got out, "Monsieur, there is one other person that I did not mention."
"Oh? And who might that be?" Matthew inquired.
She swallowed again and risked a quick, uncertain glance at Morgan's stiff back. "M-m-m—o-o-our son!"
Chapter 12
Morgan whipped around, a murderous scowl darkening his brow. "What?" he ejaculated incredulously. "A child?" And at Leonie's defiant nod, he burst out furiously, "Now, just a goddammed minute! I would know if I'd ever bedded you, and I damn well haven't. I never laid eyes on you until you walked in with Easton tonight!" His voice full of rage, he added, "Take heed, little harlot—you might have convinced my father that you are my wife, but there is no way in hell you're going to foist somebody else's bastard on me!"
Leonie's reaction was not nearly as spectacular as it would have been if she hadn't known she was lying, but even so, for this abominable blackguard to call Justin a bastard was like tinder to dry grass. "You will not call him that! He is our son and you will not deny him!" Leonie spat fiercely, the tawny curls bristling with fury. "Call me names, monsieur, if that pleases you, but do not vent your bad manners and foul tongue on Justin!"
Morgan's jaw clenched, and feeling as if he had wandered into a nightmare, he snarled softly, "Point taken—whatever you are, your child, if he is your child, is not to blame. One thing I know for damn sure, though, is that he is not my child!"
Leonie held her head very high, and not meeting the furious glitter of Morgan's eyes, she said stubbornly, "But he is, monsieur... he was born almost nine months to the day after we were married. He is your son."
Smiling grimly, Morgan ground out, "I seem to have forgotten so many things—you, our wedding, our wedding night, everything. How can that be?"
Flushing at the insulting implication in his voice, Leonie said hotly, "Because, monsieur, it was my dowry you were interested in, not me or our marriage!"
Matthew, growing more uncomfortable by being a party to this increasingly venomous and painful scene, cleared his throat loudly. Both combatants looked at him as if only now realizing that there were other people in the room. As for Matthew, the knowledge that there was a child was a stunning surprise. Though the existence of a child complicated an already complicated situation, this might also prove the key to the dilemma. A child that bore the unmistakable stamp of the Slades would be all the proof that Mat
thew would need.
Eager to see this child, this child that might possibly be his own grandson, eager to have the truth proven one way or another, Matthew said, "My dear, I think we have all said enough for now. Come, let us see about removing your son and the others to Bonheur before the hour grows much later. Tomorrow will be soon enough for us to thrash this out." Finally forcing himself to glance at Morgan's dark, angry face, he said coldly, "It would be best if you took your mother home. Dominic and I shall take the young lady to the tavern and see about bringing the others to the house."
There was, as Matthew had said, nothing more to be gained from this acrimonious discussion, and with a grimace of resignation, Morgan left the room. His mother was waiting in the hall, and sardonically he greeted her. "It seems that you are relegated to associating with the condemned man. Father and Dominic are going to King's Tavern to arrange for the removal of my little bride and son, and you, I suppose, are to see that things are made ready at the house. Shall we go, madame, or am I too far beyond redemption to have your company?"
"Morgan, mon fils, stop it!" Noelle said sharply. "Come, you must tell me what happened." Her eyes anxiously searching his shuttered face, she asked uncertainly, "Is it true? Is she your wife and does she have your child?"
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