by Linda Ladd
A mental picture arose in Alysson's mind of her doing her squirrel imitation the next time she was alone with her big, angry husband, and her amused laugh tinkled into the air.
"I don't think he's ready for that yet, sweetheart. Maybe someday, though."
"But he likes to play games with me,” Katie insisted. “Maybe we can get him to play hide-and-seek with us after the party. Remember, you promised me you would, and I get to hide first this time."
"I will. After all, it is your birthday. Come over here now and let me tie your ribbons. You've pulled them loose."
Katie came obediently, and Alysson quickly retied the bow, then stood to scrutinize her own reflection in the standing mirror beside the bed. Donovan was home at last, and he had been glad to see her. She had seen it in his eyes, and that fleeting look filled her with joy. She would win him over to her again, she would seduce him if she had to, but he would not leave her again without knowing about the baby.
"And that should put an end to any talk of divorcement,” she murmured under her breath, putting a hand upon her stomach.
Katie looked up. “What did you say?"
"Nothing important,” Alysson answered brightly, her heavy satin underskirts rustling as she turned slightly to check the draping of the emerald-green velvet. She arranged her mother's silver cross upon her breasts to best advantage, having chosen the daring decolletage to attract Donovan's attention. The high waist completely disguised her condition, though in truth, her body had changed very little thus far.
But it would soon, and she was suddenly all nerves at the thought of telling Donovan. She patted her hair, having taken Katie's advice and pulled it back at the crown with a pearl-studded clip, leaving the rest to flow unhampered down her back. It had grown much in the past months, and she hoped Donovan would notice it.
Taking Katie's hand, she lifted her heavy skirt, and they walked together down the sweeping staircase to join the rest of the family. They found them in the immense dining room, with its crimson velvet draperies and rose-stenciled walls, for they were to dine formally in honor of Katie's birthday. Olivia sat beside the fireplace with Brace, while Donovan stood with one elbow propped upon the white molded mantelpiece. Katie ran forward to be swung up into Brace's arms, but Alysson's eyes stayed solely on her husband. He looked superb standing there, so dark and handsome in his wine-colored velvet jacket and dark trousers, and his black eyes moved over her for a long, lingering moment that made her knees turn to water.
"Katie gets the seat of honor tonight,” Olivia was saying, and Katie took the chair at the head of the table where Donovan was accustomed to sitting. A dozen gaily wrapped presents sat about her place, and Katie shook one after another, smiling in excitement.
Brace smiled at Alysson as he led her to her place, and she looked up at him in surprise as he seated her across from Donovan's chair.
"I thought my big brother ought to get the pleasure of ogling you in that dress,” he whispered close to her ear. “Wasn't that the idea?"
Alysson's eyes darted to him, and he winked. She gave him a grateful smile as she sat, knowing then that Brace was an ally as well as Olivia and Katie. They would all help her.
"May I open my presents first, Mother?” Katie begged. Olivia nodded with a smile.
Katie tackled that task with enthusiasm, unwrapping first a box of candy and a beautiful doll that Brace had brought from Washington. Donovan had given her a tea set for the doll, made of delicate white china hand-painted with violets. Alysson had to smile at Katie's delighted exclamations at seeing the tiny cups and saucers. When she opened the package from Alysson and found the old book of Shakespeare that Alysson had lent to her, she laughed with pleasure.
"But, Aly, this is your very own book. You and Freddie used it in Cornwall!"
Alysson felt Donovan's gaze on her, and she smiled. “I have no need of it anymore, and now you can practice Puck's lines anytime you wish."
"'Up and down, up and down, I will lead them up and down: I am feared in field and town: Goblin, lead them up and down,'” Katie quoted from A Midsummer Night's Dream, causing them all to laugh.
"So we are raising another little actress, are we?” Brace commented, and Alysson looked up to find Donovan smiling affectionately at his niece.
After three courses of Katie's favorite foods, followed by silver dishes filled with ice cream, Katie bundled all her gifts into the lace-draped doll carriage that her mother had given her.
"May I go out and show everything to Macomi?” she asked politely. When her mother nodded, Katie turned to smile at Alysson. “Then we will play hide-and-seek. Remember, you said you would!"
"I'll be out soon,” Alysson promised. After the child had left, Olivia turned the conversation to the trip to Washington.
"It was uneventful aboard ship. In Washington, Dolley was a beautiful hostess, as she always is,” Brace told them. “She said she would love to have you come with Katie for a visit."
"We speak of Dolley Madison, the President's wife,” Olivia explained to Alysson. “I met her years ago when she lived in Philadelphia with her first husband, John Todd. Before he died, they were great friends to Jason and me. I haven't seen her in a very long time now that she has moved to Washington."
Alysson was impressed to think that the MacBrides had such influential connections, for she knew the President was like the king of the United States.
"Dolley was certainly interested in hearing all about you, Alysson,” Brace said. “She loves to go to plays and such, and she was curious to know something about the lady who finally ended Donovan's bachelor days. Dolley's been playing matchmaker for him for years."
Alysson looked at Donovan, who was frowning as if he didn't like the turn of the conversation, and she was suddenly quite sure that similar talk around Dolley Madison's table had been an embarrassment to him, especially if the duel had been mentioned. He said nothing, however, and Alysson waited patiently for a time, anxious to request a moment alone with him. She listened silently as they discussed other friends of theirs who served in the American Congress, most of whom she did not know. She grew very attentive, however, when Brace mentioned a possible war with England.
"The war hawks are screaming for it,” he was saying. “And the western states are rallying behind them one hundred percent. The President's still trying to contain the war fervor, but Henry Clay and the others are hell-bent to annex Canada, and Florida, too. I can't say I don't agree with them. As soon as war is declared, I intend to turn my guns on every bloody British ship I can find."
"We are not prepared to fight another war with England,” Donovan replied calmly. “And you know it, Brace. Our regular army has about eleven thousand men, and our navy is even more depleted than that. How many ships do we have with enough guns to put up a good fight? Five or six? It would be disastrous to initiate a fight with the British Navy. We need time to build up our defense first."
"And by the time we do that, their fight with Bonaparte will be over, and all the ships blockading the coast of France will be down our throats. We need to declare now, while most of their troops are fighting on the Continent."
Brace was becoming incensed, but Donovan remained unruffled as he took a sip of his wine. “War would be as big a mistake as the embargo was, and it would do you well to remember that the MacBride merchant ships are a big part of our business. We have as much to lose as the rest of the New England merchants, and I can tell you right now that they'll be opposed to a declaration of war."
Brace disagreed, too eager to get into the fight to worry about the opinions of the New Englanders.
"Our agents in England say Parliament doesn't believe we'll have the guts to declare on them, and the data from our sources here—"
"I think it would be better, if we continued this discussion in private,” Donovan cut in tersely, glancing pointedly at Alysson.
Alysson stiffened at the implication that she could not be trusted, but when Brace and Olivia both looked distinc
tly embarrassed, she smiled, trying to eliminate their discomfiture with a jest.
"Indeed you should, because I have been memorizing every word said here today to send to England. Perhaps to my father, since we are so close,” she said sarcastically for Donovan's benefit. “Or perhaps I will even post it to the Regent himself."
Her green eyes sparkled, for the idea of writing the Regent amused her. Brace and Olivia laughed, and Donovan's face grew hard.
"Or perhaps to Douglas Compton,” he said with such ice-coated derision that silence dropped over the table like a heavy glass dome. There was little anyone could say, and Alysson's smile left her. With that one utterance, Donovan had revealed that he was still very angry with her.
Before she could respond, Katie rushed in the far doorway. “Come on, Alysson, let's finish our game before it grows too dark."
"All right, you go ahead and hide,” Alysson said, rising. “I will come find you in a moment."
She looked back at Donovan as Katie departed, determined to talk to him alone.
"I would like to speak to you in private, if I may,” she said.
"I'm quite sure there is nothing we need to discuss that Brace and Olivia cannot hear."
Alysson stared at him, not having expected him to deny her request.
"It really is a private matter,” she said, lifting her chin stubbornly. “Perhaps tomorrow you could spare me a moment or two."
"I won't be here tomorrow."
He was angry again, and intentionally humiliating her in front of the others. Trembling with embarrassment and anger, she looked him in the eyes.
"Now that I think of it, I have nothing to say to you after all."
No one said a word as she walked out, her head held high. Then Olivia rose, giving Donovan a scathing look before departing in the same direction. Donovan clenched his jaw grimly as Brace leaned back, turning a disgusted gaze on his brother.
"Tell me, Donovan, are you going to divorce the girl and get it over with, or are you getting too much pleasure out of making her miserable?"
Donovan didn't answer, and Brace shook his head, then strode angrily out of the room, leaving Donovan alone at the table. He drained his wineglass, already ashamed of the way he had treated Alysson. It was the mention of Compton that had brought all the simmering anger roiling up to overwhelm him. His teeth came together hard as he thought of the hurt look in her eyes and the way her bright smile had melted.
She had only wanted to talk to him, and he had humiliated her in front of everyone. He had been wrong to do it; he had been wrong about a lot of things. Both Brace and Olivia had told him why Alysson had been at Compton's house that day, and he had had plenty of time to think about it in Washington and on the voyage home. Why couldn't he forgive her and forget it had happened? Why did he try to hurt her, then feel worse about it than she did?
"Damnation,” he muttered under his breath, then left the room in search of Alysson as the maids entered to clear away the dishes.
Alysson ran down the front lawn, not stopping when she heard Olivia calling her name behind her. Not wanting to talk to anyone, she hurried toward the river, past the servants still burning leaves. She walked all the way to the gazebos, then pressed her back against the trunk of a gnarled old oak tree where no one could see her. She squeezed her eyes shut, stifling a sob.
Would he never stop punishing her? Would he be the same kind of unloving, unforgiving father to her child? Righteous anger flooded her, making her clench her fists and clamp her jaw. She was tired of the way he was treating her! She was tired of trying to make him listen to her! She would leave Wildwood! She would steal away the way she had left her father's house in London, and Donovan would never know he even had a son! She would go tomorrow after he had gone back to the city, quietly without telling anyone. The hard resolve softened as she thought of Katie. How could she sneak away without saying good-bye to Katie?
It was then that she remembered Katie was hiding from her somewhere, and she wiped away her tears. Turning, she moved through the trees, wondering if Katie had grown tired of waiting and had returned to the house. She looked around, watching as a young servant boy lit a nearby pile of leaves with a torch, then she froze a moment later as a shrill scream shattered the quiet air.
To Alysson's stark horror, Katie scrambled from the blazing leaves, her yellow skirt a mass of flames. She screamed and screamed, and Alysson ran to her, trying to beat out the fire with her hands. The boy ran for help in terrified panic. Sobbing, Alysson managed to get Katie down, tearing frantically at the flaming skirts and petticoats as more leaves caught fire on the ground around them.
She finally managed to rip the dress from the struggling child, and she picked up Katie and began to run toward the house. Katie was hysterical, kicking and screaming until Alysson could barely hold her. She began to scream herself, for help, feeling as if she lived in a terrible, ghastly nightmare. Halfway to the house she saw Donovan running toward her, Olivia and Brace behind him.
"Katie's been burned! Help me!” Alysson cried. Donovan took the panic-stricken child from her and turned toward the house.
"Go for Doctor Whittingham, Brace, and hurry!” he yelled. Alysson leaned weakly against a tree as Brace ran for the tables. Donovan and Olivia hurried on toward the house with Katie's screams echoing back through the trees.
Feeling sick and weak, Alysson looked down at her burned palms, feeling the throbbing ache for the first time. It was then that the first ripping pain hit her, like a red-hot iron in her loins, and she groaned in agony, her legs buckling beneath her. She slid to the ground, clutching her stomach. She tried to call for help, but another savage pain hit her. Her body felt as if it were being ripped apart, and she cried out as she doubled over. It was her baby, she knew it was her baby, and terrified, she tried to push herself up. She didn't have the strength to do it, and she lay on her side, racked over and over by never-ending pains, each worse than the one before it.
It seemed an eternity before she heard Donovan's voice calling to her. Then at last he was there, kneeling beside her, turning her over. Vaguely, she knew that he had lifted her, that he was carrying her, but the pain became more than she could bear. She felt herself being sucked into a spinning, whirling vortex, spiraling downward into an inky black pit that finally, blessedly, took the agony from her.
Chapter 19
Donovan paced back and forth outside Alysson's bedchamber, the thick Persian carpet muffling his anxious footsteps. He stopped at the balustrade, bracing his hands there to look down to the entry foyer where two maids were whispering together. As one of them started up the steps with a bowl of steaming water, he shut his eyes, feeling helpless and sick at heart. The doctor had been with her for over an hour now, and he could not bear the waiting. He saw it all again in his mind, seared there never to leave him, the way he had found her beneath the tree, all alone, moaning in agony, and the blood—the blood had been everywhere.
His fingers tightened around the carved railing, and he turned as the maid passed him, her eyes sorrowful. God, he hadn't even known about the baby. That was what she had wanted to tell him earlier. The realization devastated him, and he felt as if a giant hand had taken hold of his soul, twisting, twisting, until he dropped his face into his hands, grappling with fear that turned his heart to ice. He had never been a fearful man. He did what had to be done, allowing destiny to decree the outcome of his actions. But he could not bend to fate now. Not with Alysson. She was so young, so beautiful, so innocent. He thought of the way he had been treating her, the way he had hurt her, feeling sick shame all over again.
He whirled around as the door opened behind him, tensing with dread as Dr. Whittingham stepped out. He looked tired, his shirtsleeves rolled to the elbow, his spectacles pushed atop his head. He was wiping his hands on a linen towel, and he shook his head as he met Donovan's worried eyes.
"I'm sorry, Donovan. I tried but I couldn't save the baby."
Donovan's whole body went rigid, and D
r. Whittingham looked at his white face. “You didn't know either, did you? Neither did Olivia, but the old Indian nurse said Alysson's been having trouble with it for weeks now. Even if I had known sooner, I doubt if the baby could have been saved. I believe the strain of carrying Katie to the house brought on the miscarriage."
"What about Alysson?"
Donovan's voice was hoarse, his eyes bleak with loss, and Dr. Whittingham put a consoling hand on his shoulder.
"We finally got the hemorrhaging stopped, and I think she'll be all right in time, if she stays in bed and takes care of herself. She's very weak now and heartbroken about the baby, so it'll take a long time for her to recover, both physically and emotionally."
"Thank God she's going to be all right,” Donovan managed, rubbing both palms down over his face. He felt weak himself, and shaky.
"I thought you could use a drink, Donovan,” Brace said from behind him, pouring him a stiff shot of whisky from the bottle in his hand. Donovan took it gratefully and downed it in one deep draught as Brace poured one for the doctor.
"I heard what John said,” Brace said to Donovan. “I'm sorry."
Donovan nodded dully, and the doctor took the glass offered to him, meeting Brace's eyes as Donovan poured another and downed it as quickly as the first. Dr. Whittingham drank with more caution. When he had finished, he picked up his coat where it lay on a chair beside the door.
"I guess I'll go now. Katie's sleeping under a dose of laudanum, but she'll be fine. Her legs might be a bit painful in the morning, but there won't be scars or any lasting damage. I suppose we owe that to Alysson."
"Thank God for that,” Brace returned, but Donovan was no longer listening to them as he turned the doorknob of his wife's room.
The sick room was draped in shadows, for only one dim candle burned on the bedside table. Macomi was near the bed, gathering together the soiled linens and bowls that the doctor had used, and Olivia stood at the foot of the bed. As Donovan came forward, she moved to intercept him. Her voice was a bare whisper.