Roberta chafed beneath the stricture of wedlock. The lieutenant was quite handsome, and it provoked her that Alaina always managed to affect an easy manner around men, as if she had no fear at all of their baser nature. Roberta yearned to test her own charm on the fellow, just to see how quickly he would forget about the younger cousin.
Finding no excuse to remain, Lieutenant Appleby departed the room as Alaina busied herself setting out the shaving implements. Roberta rose, crossed the room to carefully close the door, and returned to stand at the end of Cole’s bed. Her eyes bored into her cousin as she hissed. “Just what do you think you’re doing here?”
The girl looked up with a casual shrug. “I have to earn a living, and Doctor Brooks got me a job. I work here.”
“Sneaking in and out of bedrooms, I suppose.” The woman’s tone was something less than polite, and she ignored the warning frown from Cole.
Alaina fixed her cousin with a cool stare. “I don’t have to sneak, Roberta. I leave that for others.” Turning back, she began to wet the towel.
Roberta grasped the brass rail at the foot of the bed with such intensity that her knuckles whitened. “And what do you think you’re going to do with that?”
“I’m going to give Major Latimer a shave,” Alaina answered. “It’s part of my duties.”
“I’ll tend to that!” Roberta snapped. “You just get out of here, and stay out!”
“Whatever you say, Mrs Latimer.” Alaina dropped the towel into the basin and, at the door, glanced around as she pushed the portal wide. “We leave this open here on the second floor, Mrs. Latimer, so the men can call if they need help—or anything.”
She was gone before an answer could be made, leaving Roberta fairly seething.
“I always said that little tramp would be the ruin of us someday. She’s got all of us living in fear that someone will recognize us as her kin. It’s just terrible!” Roberta mewled as she sought her chair again. “You can’t even say her name without having people look at you in suspicion. And now she’s here, working amongst all these men, just like a busy little courtesan.”
Cole leaned back and watched his wife from beneath gathered brows. “I think you’re being harsh with her, Roberta. You know as well as I do that she is innocent of what she has been accused.”
“And I think you’re being far too easy on the little hussy,” Roberta objected. “How can you be so blind, Cole? You saw the way she acted with that lieutenant. Why, she’s leading him around by the nose. She acts as if every man were her consort—as if she were a queen—or some special gift to men.”
Cole held his silence, though his mind agreed, She is!
“I remember when we were children. It was always Alaina who played with the boys. If you wanted to find her, you found the boys, and more often than not, she was with them and usually dressed just like them, while I played with my dolls and minded my virtue.”
Cole propped on an elbow and raised a brow, unable to resist the question, “How is it then, my dear, that she managed to keep hers longer than you did?”
For a moment the dark eyes narrowed and glared, then she sneered. “ Humph! As scrawny as she was, what boy would have taken her seriously? If you want to know the truth of it, Cole Latimer”—Roberta gathered herself in erect self-righteousness—“had she been mature enough, she’d have given up her virginity long ago.”
In some exasperation Cole reached for the shaving mug and, wetting the brush, began to lather it.
“And what are you going to do with that?” Roberta questioned quickly.
“I’m going to lather my face and then I’m going to shave,” Cole stated the obvious bluntly.
“I’ll do that! Just lie back a little.”
Cole was suddenly apprehensive. “You don’t need to, Roberta. I think I can manage.”
“I said I’d do it!” She rose and took the brush and mug from his hand.
It was late in the afternoon, and well after Roberta had left, when Alaina returned to Cole’s room for the dirty dishes. He was lying flat in the bed with a wet towel pressed to the lower half of his face. As soon as he saw her, he glared, and though his voice was muffled behind the cloth, his indignation was bold and rampant.
“Good lord, woman! Your cruelty is beyond reason! Helpless as I am, you left me with that butcher!”
He snatched away the towel, and Alaina gasped. His face was nicked and cut in a full score of places and still oozed red from at least a dozen.
“Fetch that new surgeon friend of yours before my weakened life is spent this day,” he snapped. “Or better yet, fetch me a lump of alum that I might stem the flow from my wounds. I swear a week in the swamps with an open leg bled me less than this afternoon at Roberta’s hands.”
Alaina’s footsteps and laughter echoed in the hallway as she ran to fetch the alum. When she returned, he glowered at her again above the towel. She wet the lump in the basin, and, still trembling with an occasional giggle, applied it to his battered face.
“I’ve not yet decided, girl,” Cole informed her sternly as she tended him, “whether you may have done me more injury from your desertion this day or on my wedding morn.”
“Be that as it may, sir.” Her voice was low as she bent far too close to him. “But this time, you can hardly claim mistaken identity.”
Now that Roberta knew Alaina was working at the hospital, she strove heartily to visit Cole every day at an early hour and did not deem it within her duty to leave until all visitors were dismissed for the night. Though she appeared adamant in her purpose to minister to him, he was just as determined that she would not shave him again. Rather, he grumbled, he would grow a length of beard before allowing her to do a like service again.
The week was filled with malicious tidbits and insinuations of Alaina’s conduct, past and present. Now that the truth of her identity was out, the older cousin actively sought to sway Cole’s regard for the younger. It was a barrage of half truths and bold lies, attacks that struck while he was frustratingly confined to bed and forced to witness the attentions of Lieutenant Appleby. Some dark, growing anger churned at the young surgeon’s tenacious pursuit of Alaina, though he knew he had no right to protest or feel resentment. Still, it was like a wound festering in his vitals, and he could find no cure.
By Monday morning, Cole had come to the definite conclusion that he had had enough of his mattress-bound incarceration. Just after dawn, he bade an orderly to fetch some crutches, then stiffening his jaw against the stabbing pain that bloomed from the area where the piece of metal was lodged against his bone, he left the bed, though weak and unfamiliar with the walking aids. His muscles had become flaccid from inactivity, yet with dogged persistence, he forced himself to exercise. From the bed to the wall and back again, slowly, painstakingly, over and over, he hobbled until cramps began to knot in his shoulders and legs. Still, he drove himself, refusing to give in to the throbbing, searing pain that continually reminded him of his impairment.
Just after the morning help began to arrive, he paused to listen as familiar footsteps came down the hall toward his room. Then, those of a bolder, more manly stride joined the quick, light steps.
“You’re looking quite delectable this morning, Miss Hawthorne.” Appleby warmly applied the compliment, and Cole could imagine the man avidly leering at those soft, feminine curves.
“Oh, Lieutenant,” Alaina responded in a more serious tone. “Major Magruder was just asking where you were. You’re wanted in surgery immediately.”
“Duty calls,” the young surgeon sighed forlornly. “But my heart remains with you.”
Derisively, Cole raised his eyes to the ceiling. If the man only paid as much attention to his work as he did to Alaina, there would be no telling what manner of miracles he could perform.
Lieutenant Appleby hurried away, and the click of high heels continued on their way. Cole glanced around as the sound stopped in his doorway. He saw the surprise in Alaina’s face as she stared at him, then she e
ntered the room, setting aside the stack of linens that she carried over her arm.
“Are you supposed to be up?” she questioned suspiciously.
With riant ill humor he retorted, “Better up than to bear another day in bed.”
“You look as if you can stand a rest. Sit down while I change the bedcovers, then I’ll walk with you for a spell until Roberta comes. She’ll be glad to see you up.”
“Don’t coddle me, woman!” He waved her away as she stepped forward to escort him to a chair. “I don’t need a nursemaid watching over me while I walk.”
“Well, somebody should be here to see you break your silly neck,” she retorted spiritedly.
“You can let your young friend practice on me if I do. I’m sure he needs the experience. He seems much more adept at courting women than he does at handling a scalpel.”
“You can’t possibly know anything about his skills,” she protested. “You’ve never been with him in surgery.”
“No, but I’ve seen him running up and down the halls like a panting pup after you often enough. When does he have time for his duties?”
Alaina raked the dirty sheets from the bed. “Lieutenant Appleby is just being nice, and you have no reason to be so caustic.”
“Have you ever considered cooling his ardor?” Cole questioned curtly.
“I do not encourage it, I assure you, Major,” she snapped. She stalked to the door and threw the dirty sheets into the hall, then came back with the fresh ones, glaring at him. “I have done nothing improper.”
“You haven’t discouraged him either. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, like some rutting young whelp over-anxious to catch you in the nearest corner. You act as if your mother never warned you about such men.”
“Oh, she warned me about them all right,” she laughed jeeringly. “But it was your kind she failed to mention. Shall I depend upon you, Major, for advice about that which you have already taken? Indeed, beside you, I would consider Lieutenant Appleby a saint.”
She turned away to spread the sheet across the bed, but Cole was unwilling to let her have the last word. Forgetting the crutches, he reached out to grasp her arm, then suddenly found himself twisting slowly on the unwieldy sticks. He caught at the foot of the bed to keep himself from sprawling full face, and the crutch under his right arm skittered away, rattling across the floor. Pain shot through his leg as his weight came full upon it, and the weakened member began to fold. Words that Alaina meant to issue with rancor turned to a gasp of dismay as she saw him crumpling. She flew to his side and, thrusting her shoulder beneath his arm, checked his fall and held him upright.
“Are you all right?” she inquired anxiously.
Slowly he straightened and gazed down into her worried gray eyes, impressed with the clearness of them and the fringelike thickness of her silken lashes. She possessed quite a lovely and expressive mouth, one that needed to be kissed—!
Alaina felt his arm tighten across her back, and before she could gather her wits, she was lifted to meet his lowering, parted lips. Open-mouthed, the kiss vividly betrayed his hard-driven desires, going through her like a searing bolt of lightning, stripping naked her own needs and passions. Fighting desperately against the madness that threatened to envelop her, she twisted away and staggered back a step, shaken and shocked by the stirring rush of excitement that had catapulted through her. She struck out, as much in shame as with a sense of outrage that he should dare accost her in such a public place. The room echoed with the resounding crack of her open palm meeting his cheek. In the next instant, she whirled and flew toward the door, yearning to find someplace where she could be alone, and unleash the agonized sobs that were near to bursting forth.
Heavy-booted heels struck against the marble floor in the hallway outside Cole’s room, and with an effort, she collected her dignity. It was a hard won triumph when she stepped into the corridor with a restrained and cool manner, but her poise was nearly shattered again as an oddly familiar voice called:
“Why, Mrs. Latimer!”
She whirled to see Lieutenant Baxter hurrying toward her, and could only stand in mute confusion as he neared. She could think of no graceful or easy escape from the predicament she found herself in.
“You remember me, don’t you, Mrs. Latimer? I mean—we actually never met that night at your husband’s apartment—but I’d recognize you anywhere. And I never forget a face.” He laughed as he added. “Especially one so lovely.”
Alaina was too stunned to make an answer, but the man rushed on with his inquiries, unaware of her distress.
“How is the major anyway? I’ve heard of his heroics and promotion. He has a right to feel proud of himself.”
“Major Latimer—is doing—well,” she answered haltingly. “Did you—want to see him now?”
“Actually,” the officer laughed to cover his embarrassment. He could hardly boast that he had boils on his backside. “I have a bit of a problem that I must attend to first. Is one of the doctors available?”
“Why don’t you check with Sergeant Grissom,” she suggested disconcertedly. “If he’s not at his front desk downstairs, just wait there. He’ll be able to find a doctor for you, and it will save you some wandering around.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Latimer.”
She opened her mouth to correct him, but he swung around and hurried off, leaving Alaina staring for one shocked moment into the wide, blazing eyes of her cousin. Roberta had been coming down the hall behind Lieutenant Baxter when he called out and had been halted by the exchange.
“You dare portray yourself as Mrs. Latimer?” Roberta gritted between gnashing teeth as she came forward. Threateningly she shook a fist beneath the girl’s nose and swore, “You’ll have him and that title over my dead body!”
Brushing on past, Roberta entered Cole’s room and slammed the door behind her. The major immediately fell victim to a vivid and most insulting description of his character, and Alaina fled, not wishing to hear the vulgar accusations that her cousin made against them. It was a much later hour when she sent around an orderly to finish making the bed.
The major’s homecoming to the Craighugh household was celebrated with a stoical greeting from at least one member. Angus Craighugh had been hoping for the worst, and disappointment reigned along with the usual resentment he felt for his son-in-law. That same afternoon Cole was ushered to the guest bedroom, and Roberta made a lengthy explanation as to how he would be more comfortable there, now that he had the lame leg to consider. Not that Cole wished differently, but he noted that Roberta was exceptionally pleased with herself for having thought of the arrangement.
After playing the dutiful wife for so long, Roberta was restless beneath its restricting role. Now that Cole had been removed from Alaina’s daily presence, she wasted no moment resuming her social life, attending teas with military wives and accepting luncheon engagements with high-ranking officers whom she hoped might aid in furthering her husband’s career.
It was July when Doctor Brooks, escorting Alaina home to Mrs. Hawthorne’s after a day at the hospital, stopped at the Craighugh house to deliver a message for Cole. It was an official letter informing the major of his pending medical retirement from duty. Leala sent it directly upstairs with Dulcie, while she invited the guests in for some cooling refreshments, but the black woman was intercepted at the major’s door.
“I’ll take that,” Roberta held out a hand expectantly as she came down the hall. “Go on back to your work.”
The woman glanced worriedly toward the major’s door. “Miz Leala say gib dis here letter directly to de major.”
Roberta glared menacingly. “Give it here, I said!”
The portal was snatched open as the black woman debated her alternatives. Gratefully, Dulcie handed over the letter to him, then retreated rapidly as she caught Roberta’s angry glower. Returning to the parlor, Dulcie ,was in the process of serving the refreshments when a horrendous screech rang through the house, fairly trembling the glass in the
windowpanes. For a moment, all the faces in the room were awe struck, and in the stunned silence, an upstairs door was heard opening and then Cole’s casual tone, “Good-day, madam.”
The door was gently closed, but only briefly before it was snatched open again. Roberta’s enraged tones scattered through the house, loud enough for anyone’s hearing.
“Don’t you walk away when I’m talking to you!” she railed. “We could have gone somewhere, been somebody, if you hadn’t insisted on the foolhardy campaign!”
“More lemonade?” Leala nervously offered in an attempt to divert the guest’s attention from her daughter’s caustic sneer. Her effort was ineffectual as Roberta raised her voice to a screech.
“I want this settled here and now!”
“There’s nothing to settle.” Cole’s tone was almost pleasant as the sound of his footsteps and the thump of his cane were heard from the stairs. “I am being retired for medical reasons. It’s as simple as that.”
“You spineless, gutless, filthy Yankee! You made me believe we were going to Washington, while all the time you were planning on getting out so you could stay here with the dirty little tramp you bedded beneath our noses! I should have let Daddy marry you off to Lainie that night instead of saving you from her! That little traitor! She’d have dragged you down with her! And all you can mewl about is how I tricked you into marrying me! You can’t see what I’ve done for you! Why, you should be grateful for everything I’ve done!”
Alaina bowed her head over her glass in abject embarrassment as the other occupants of the parlor turned to gape at her. Her humiliation was painful, yet Roberta was unwilling to relent in her tirade as she followed Cole down the steps, showering him with a deluge of verbal blows.
“Sometimes I think you dreamed up this whole charade just to keep me from having any fun!”
Cole continued his painful progress with only a muttered comment. “Washington was your idea, madam, not mine.” He reached the bottom and, oblivious of the slack-jawed stares he won as he came into view of those in the parlor, turned back to face Roberta. “There’ll be no Washington now, Roberta. It’s all done with. I’ll be mustered out as soon as we reach Minnesota.”
Ashes in the Wind Page 34