by Linda Ladd
"Hello, sweet."
He stepped forward, and Alysson looked up at once with a smile, but Donovan noted the way she quickly hid the paper in the pocket of her skirt. Jealous thoughts he didn't like crept into his mind, but were quickly dispelled by the way Alysson hurried across the room, welcoming him on tiptoe. She slid her arms around his neck to pull his head closer to her mouth, and he accommodated her in that intent, one arm lifting her from the floor. Several breathless moments passed before he spoke gruffly against the graceful curve of her throat.
"I missed you today."
Alysson smiled, very glad he had decided to come home early. “And I thought of you, my husband, the whole time I listened to Odette chatter about her latest beau. You only just missed seeing Odette and Rosalie."
"Good,” said Donovan. “If they were here, I wouldn't be able to do this."
Alysson gasped as his fingers moved to the small pearl buttons between her breasts, deftly unfastening several of them as he sat down with her atop his lap. She closed her eyes as his hand slid beneath the soft chemise, his fingertips caressing the satiny curves until her blood pounded in her ears. He was pushing the gown down one shoulder now, tracing the bare flesh there with his tongue. Hot and aroused, Alysson barely managed her protest.
"Stephens will be coming for the tea things. I rang for him just before you came. He'll see us."
"Let him,” Donovan replied carelessly, capturing her lips. But, not wanting to embarrass her, he reluctantly released her.
Pleased by her look of disappointment, he smiled as he helped her refasten her gown, for she fumbled nervously with the tiny buttons, glancing repeatedly at the door. The strong brown fingers working so close to her breasts did little to alleviate her fevered state, however, and it was not until the rotund valet did enter the room and Donovan removed his hands from her that Alysson began to breathe normally again.
Stephens arched a brow at the sight of his mistress atop his master's lap, but went about his business of gathering the tea things upon his silver tray. He left quietly then, not in the least surprised about what was going on in the sitting room. Mr. Donovan's affection for his young wife was well known and well discussed by all the members of the household staff, so much so that the servants often tasted his scolding on the matter.
"What were you reading when I came in?” Donovan asked a moment later, his black eyes intent on her face. When Alysson stiffened guiltily in his arms, the shadow of a frown appeared between his eyes.
"Nothing, really, just something Odette gave to me."
"What is it?"
Alysson gave a nervous little laugh and sought to move away, but he held her in place.
"It's just an advertisement, is all,” she said then. “You wouldn't be interested, really."
"May I see it?"
His polite request was more like a polite demand, and Donovan thought that Alysson didn't look as though she wanted to give it to him, but she reluctantly retrieved it from her pocket.
Donovan unfolded it, discovering it was a playbill for the Park Theater. Odette's name was at the top, leading the cast for the upcoming production of The School for Scandal by the English playwright Sheridan. Donovan looked at his wife, astute enough to realize what she must have been feeling as she read it. It could have been her name there; it should have been her name there.
"See, it is only a playbill,” Alysson teased, but her bright smile did not hide the wistful look in her eyes.
"Would it please you to attend the opening performance?” he asked suddenly, and Alysson turned her head abruptly towards him, her initial surprise dwindling into pure pleasure, only to succumb a moment later into doubt.
"But didn't you see?” she asked uncertainly. “It's at the Park."
Both knew they would very likely see Douglas Compton if they attended. Although Donovan didn't exactly welcome that prospect, he realized it might do much to squelch the gossip about the duel if they appeared there together as if nothing had happened.
"If you want to go, we'll go. And we'll make it a family affair. Olivia and Katie will go with us."
"Oh, that would be wonderful!” Alysson exclaimed in excitement. “Oh, thank you, thank you! Odette will be so pleased because she so wanted me to come. I'll write her a note now and tell her we're coming!"
She started to rise, but Donovan's arm tightened around her waist.
"Write it later,” he murmured, and Alysson settled back into his lap with no further urging, his kisses only adding to her happiness of the moment.
The performance was held on a Saturday night in late April, almost a fortnight later. Alysson dressed with care, wanting Donovan to be proud of her. She selected an apple-green silk gown with a low, square neckline and a matching satin cape, so she could wear the exquisite strand of emeralds and pearls that Donovan had given her for the occasion.
He awaited her downstairs, his tall, commanding frame resplendent in an elegantly tailored black jacket and white silk waistcoat, his long muscular legs encased in black trousers. Alysson basked in the sensual gleam in his black eyes as she met him at the bottom of the stairs. He smiled down at her his fingers lingering caressingly on her shoulders as he placed the cape around her.
"You're beautiful, my angel,” he whispered close to her ear. “So beautiful that I think the evening will last much too long before I can have you to myself again."
Alysson lifted a hand to his cheek. “Thank you, Donovan, for doing this for me. It makes me very happy."
He bent for a tender kiss that could easily have exploded into much more as his small wife pressed her slender, voluptuous body against his legs. But Katie chose that very moment to arrive, skidding to a stop when she saw them. She placed her hands on her hips and shook her braids in disgust.
"Every time I come to visit, all you do is kiss Uncle Donovan,” she complained to Alysson. The entwined couple broke apart, laughing.
Katie's mother, having arrived on the threshold just in time to hear her daughter's remark, was quick to reprimand her. “You had better see to your manners, young lady, or you may not be invited here so often."
Katie did not seem overly worried by that eventuality, as Alysson took her hand and led her outside, where Jethro waited with the carriage. Katie's enthused chatter dominated the short ride to the theater, where, at the hour of seven, elegantly attired theater patrons were gathering. Shiny, well-sprung carriages lined Chatham Row and the Mews behind the theater just as they had on the opening night of King Lear, now nearly nine months ago.
As Alysson walked alongside her husband, his fingers holding her bare arm with possessive pride, memories crowded her mind. That one night she had been the star, her name whispered in the darkness of the velvet-draped gilded boxes, and it was a memory she kept in a special compartment of her mind to take out at times to handle and cherish.
Her bittersweet feelings were transparent enough for Donovan to read, and when they were seated high above the vast theater behind Olivia and Katie in the private box he had purchased for Alysson's first performance, he laced his long fingers with her slender ones.
"Are you very sad to be here again, love?"
Alysson looked into his soul-searching ebony eyes, full of concern and love and compassion for her feelings. How much he had changed since they had met. She had called those splendid eyes “devil eyes” once, she remembered, and thought him a devil through and through, but now it was hard to believe she could ever have felt such things about her beloved husband.
"A little,” she admitted with honesty. “But I am content to sit here by your side."
Her answer pleased him, she could tell, but just then the lights dimmed, and she leaned forward eagerly. In truth, she had seen few productions herself, and it was rather fun just to sit back and watch the people on stage perform for her. The play was a comedy of manners, with outrageous jokes about the crust of London society, quite risqué in content. Most of the fast-paced, suggestive dialogue passed over Katie's understan
ding, as the child raptly watched the stage, drinking in beautiful costumes and amazing scenery changes. Odette was wonderful as the young and extravagant wife of the great-suffering but witty old man played by Adam Sinclair.
When intermission came and the lamps were slowly lit along the walls below, a muted buzz of conversation rose as the performance was discussed with much twisting and turning to see who was in attendance. The MacBride box received more than its share of attention and whispered conjectures, but Alysson ignored them, looking around with a great deal of interest.
When Donovan nodded and smiled slightly at someone in a nearby box, she followed his gaze. The Countess Kinski sat there in her usual white lace and feathers, two handsome, uniformed escorts vying with each other for her attention. Alysson looked quickly away. A suffocating streak of raw, agonizing jealously raced through her. He had known that gorgeous, raven-haired noblewoman, had known her well, had known and wanted her long before he had met Alysson. It hurt deeply to think of them having been together, even if it had been in the past.
"There is caviar and champagne being served in the restaurant on the third level,” Donovan was saying. “Shall we?"
He rose, standing back to let the ladies precede him from their draped alcove, but a backward glance told Alysson that Marina Kinski was also ready to leave for the refreshment tables. As Alysson had feared, they met the Russian countess and her suitors in the wide, crimson-carpeted hallway just outside.
She steeled herself, trying not to show the jealousy knotting her stomach as her husband's former mistress smiled up at Donovan.
"Good evening, Mr. MacBride,” she murmured in a husky, deeply accented voice. Alysson was chagrined to find that Marina Kinski was even more beautiful at closer range, with high aristocratic cheekbones, glossy black hair cascading over one shoulder, and eyes as black as Donovan's.
"Good evening, Countess,” Donovan replied, nodding briefly to the officers with her. Alysson was instantly gratified by the way he put his hand upon her waist and drew her close beside him. “I don't believe you have met my family. This is my wife, Alysson, and my sister, Olivia. Katie, here, is my niece."
"How do you do,” Marina said, her eyes dropping to Donovan's proprietary hold on his beautiful young wife.
"How do you do,” Alysson returned with as much graciousness as she could muster under the circumstances.
"Are you enjoying the play?” Donovan asked then. Marina smiled.
"Oh, yes, and it is a fitting way for me to end my stay in your country. I shall set sail for my home in Venice within the fortnight. I have found myself very lonely and homesick in the past few months."
Alysson read all kinds of things into her statements, but Donovan's expression did not change.
"Then we must wish you a safe voyage and all the best when you start anew in your native land,” he said.
Marina inclined her head gracefully, and Alysson was distinctly relieved when Donovan led her away toward the gilded staircase, very pleased to be finished with the uncomfortable meeting and even more pleased to know that the lovely Countess Kinski was leaving the country.
"Take me backstage so I can see Odette and Billy in their costumes, please, Aly!” Katie begged once they were in the restaurant area, and Donovan was presenting goblets of champagne to Alysson and Olivia. “They could autograph my program, couldn't they? Like you told me you did when you played Cordelia."
Alysson looked at Donovan, and he nodded. “Go ahead, if you like. I'll take the time to enjoy a cigar. I see Doctor Whittingham near the doors."
Olivia decided to go as well, and Alysson led them through the lobby filled with milling people to the door that led backstage. The doorman there remembered Alysson well, greeting her with warm regard. When he allowed them to pass, Alysson moved through yelling prop men and costumed actors and actresses toward Odette's dressing room, familiar with the hustle and bustle of opening night. She tapped upon the door with her knuckle, and when Odette's voice bid them to enter, she turned the knob. On seeing her visitors, Odette jumped up from her seat before her candle-ringed dressing table.
"Alysson! Entree! How splendide that you are here this night! And Katie and Olivia, too! Have you ever seen so many flowers? But, oh, of course you have! You received so many for Lear! Tell me, mon amie, did I do so terrible? Did you see when I missed my cue in the beginning of Act Two?"
"Did you? No one noticed, I'm sure. You were simply marvelous!” Alysson complimented her, hugging her friend. “And Billy! I could not believe how much he has improved since Lear."
"Oui, he is quite the handsome roué now, and all the young ladies send him notes begging him to join them at their homes! And he is beginning to accept some of them!"
"We want to see him too, if we can. Katie would like both of you to sign her program for a memento of this evening. This is her first play."
"Of course I will, mon sweet bébé!” Odette crooned to Katie, most pleased by the child's request. “Come close, and let me see it!"
A knock sounded as Odette signed her name to the program, and Alysson's face paled when she saw Douglas Compton in the doorway. A moment of tension ensued as he stared openly at Alysson. Alysson finally spoke, wanting to alleviate the awkward silence.
"Hello, Douglas. We came backstage for a moment to wish Odette good luck. I hope you don't mind our being here."
He started toward them at her words, and Alysson's eyes dropped down to his legs, horrified at the way he dragged one foot slightly as he supported himself with a silver-handled cane.
"Of course not,” he answered. “I am so glad you have come. I was just surprised at first to find you here.” He took her hand as he reached her, holding it tightly for a moment. When he looked straight at Olivia with questioning eyes, Alysson was prompted to introduce them.
"This is my sister-in-law, Olivia Jenkins, and this is her daughter, Katie."
"How do you do, Mr. Compton,” Olivia said politely, praying fervently all the while that Donovan didn't decide to join them backstage. Katie gave a small curtsy.
"It is my sincere pleasure to meet you both,” Douglas said with smooth charm. “I do hope you are enjoying our production, Mrs. Jenkins."
Olivia moved her eyes to him from her vigilant watch on the door.
"Oh, yes,” she answered. “Miss Larousse is delightful as Lady Teazle, and I thought Adam Sinclair magnificent as Sir Peter."
"Yes, Adam never fails to please the ladies. Perhaps you would like to meet him before you return to your seats?"
Anxious to get Alysson out of his company, Olivia was quick to decline his offer.
"I have already had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Sinclair,” she said, smiling. Alysson was speaking to Odette again and didn't hear, but Douglas looked at her in surprise.
"Indeed? Do you know him well?"
"No, I met him only briefly a number of years ago in Philadelphia when he came to our hotel to meet with Donovan. They served a time at Fort Niagara together, I believe, but at that time I had no idea he was such a good actor."
Douglas's whole body went rock-hard at Olivia's innocent revelation, but he held his face in strict control. His mind raced with dawning comprehension as the ladies chatted with Odette, who was changing her costume behind a screen. He grew cold as winter, lethal rage rising in an inferno inside him as he contemplated the implications of an old friendship between Donovan MacBride and Adam Sinclair. On the night of his Independence Day Ball, in his own presence, both had denied ever having met.
His fingers tightening around his cane until his knuckles showed white he watched Odette emerge from behind the screen. Alysson bent to straighten Odette's hem, looking so beautiful in the green gown that Douglas felt the loss of her all over again. Loathing fury took hold of him, burning hotter as he thought of MacBride having her instead of him, touching her, enjoying her. The bastard had crippled him and taken the only woman he had ever loved. And now, he knew Adam had betrayed him as well. God, he had trusted Adam, truste
d him with everything, made him privy to every scrap of information he received. The bastard! The bloody bastard!
"We really should be going now,” Olivia Jenkins was saying. “Before the candles are doused again."
He watched her thank Odette, then bid him good-bye before moving out the door with her daughter, seeming quite anxious to be away. Alysson stayed a moment to hug Odette again. But then, as a stagehand called for Odette and the actress rushed out the door, Douglas stepped in front of Alysson to block her passage.
"I've missed you, Alysson,” he said softly so that Olivia could not hear him where she was hovering near the open door. “I've worried endlessly about you."
Alysson looked up at him, wondering how he could have done the things he had done to all of them. He had hurt everyone with his lies, but he had hurt himself more than anyone else. She pitied him.
"I am truly sorry about your leg, Douglas,” she said, looking into his eyes. “I've wanted to tell you that for a long time. I don't understand why you challenged Donovan or told him the things you did, but I blame myself for coming to your house. I never wanted you to get hurt."
Her slanted green eyes were earnest, full of regret and sorrow, and though anger ruled him, Douglas could not be unaffected. Before she could move away, he reached out to run a finger down the curve of her soft cheek.
"I did it because I love you. I still love you. You should be mine instead of MacBride's, and someday you will be."
She looked visibly startled by his words, and she hastily turned and hurried out of the room. Douglas watched her go. Damn MacBride to hell, he thought. He would make him pay, pay for taking Alysson, pay for crippling his leg, pay for Adam's treachery, pay for everything.
The need for revenge was an acid eating away at his soul. If it took him forever, if it took him to the brink of hell and back, Donovan MacBride and Adam Sinclair would suffer for all they had done to him. Douglas would never rest until they did.