Tender Is the Storm

by Johanna Lindsey

  "How?"

  Stephanie gathered her courage. "Joel arranged it. We ... we drove upstate. We were married in a small church, and . . . and he brought me back home before you returned from the office."

  "You call that being married?" Marcus blustered. "That's ridiculous. I will get an annulment."

  "No!" Stephanie cried.

  "I will not tolerate any more defiance in this house! Go to your room!"

  Stephanie turned a stricken face to her sister. "Rissy, do something!"

  Suddenly Sharisse was awfully tired. Tonelessly she answered her sister's plea. "I think I've done quite enough, don't you?"

  Stephanie burst into loud wails as she ran from the room and up the stairs. Marcus closed the door and returned to his desk. How he hated interference with his well-conceived plans.

  "You see how easily that was settled," he stated autocratically.

  Sharisse sighed. Her father was still the ruling overlord, taking no one's feelings into consideration.

  Her eyes met his directly. "Why is it so important that I wed Joel? It can't be that you simply want our family joined to his, for Stephanie has accomplished that. And he obviously prefers her. What's wrong with that?"

  "You are the one who will inherit the bulk of my businesses, Sharisse. And since your husband will handle your affairs, he has to be someone I feel is ca­pable of the task. I thought you were sensible enough to realize that."

  "Then leave it all to Stephanie," she said sensibly.

  "No."

  "Why not? Why should I get most of it just because I'm older? I hardly think that's fair."

  "You misunderstand, Rissy. I am not leaving your sister with nothing. I will simply leave her the prop­erties that don't require constant supervision, that's all."

  "So you have a plan for Stephanie? I suppose you have already picked out her husband?"

  Marcus frowned. "There's no hurry, she's still young."

  "And in love, and married. I don't see why you can't just switch things around, for heaven's sake. Plans can be changed. Let her have the businesses you're so worried about and leave me what you would have given her. Then you'll still have Joel to run these businesses, and everyone will be happy. Why can't you agree to that? It's so easy."

  "Edward wants you for his daughter-in-law, not your sister."

  Her gaze deepened with understanding. Bits and pieces of arguments she had overheard as a child came back to her all at once. "It's because Edward loved my mother and I remind him of her, isn't it?" At his shocked expression, Sharisse became angry. Now at last she knew the reason for his obstinacy. "Yes, I knew about that."

  "How?"

  "You and Mother were never quiet in your dis­agreements, Father, and I can remember many that involved Edward Parrington. I thought you were jealous because he knew Mother before you did. But now I wonder how many of those arguments stemmed from your guilt, Father."

  "That's enough, Sharisse!"

  "I don't think so," she continued. "That's it, isn't it? You still feel guilty for winning her away from your best friend. And you were willing to sacri-fice both your daughters to make amends for your guilt!"

  "That's utter nonsense."

  "Then why," she demanded bitterly, "are you stubbornly holding on to a plan that has long since lost its point for Stephanie or me?"

  "Because you were perfectly willing to have Joel until your sister said she wanted him. Such non­sense. Did it never occur to you that she only wanted what was yours?"

  "You're saying that she might not really love him?" Sharisse frowned. Her father wasn't aware of all the things Stephanie had done in order to get Joel. "No, I can't believe that. She loves him."

  "She's a child, Sharisse. She may think she's in love at the moment, but she will feel the same way about a dozen men before she's ready to marry, and that won't be for several more years. No, her hasty mar­riage will be dissolved. I will not have well-laid plans ruined on the whim of a child."

  "You won't reconsider?"

  "No."

  Sharisse slumped in her chair. She had tried to keep Lucas a secret, but it wasn't to be.

  "That's too bad, Father."

  "What is that supposed to mean?"

  "Even if you did manage to annul Stephanie's marriage, I still couldn't marry Joel. I didn't want to tell you this, at least not right away, but you leave me no choice. I already have a husband."

  "You're lying," he said flatly.

  Sharisse opened her reticule and placed her mar­riage certificate on the desk.

  He picked it up carefully and read it. Then he dropped it back on his desk.'Tll have that annulled, too."

  Sharisse shook her head slowly. "You can't do a thing, Father. I don't know about Joel and Steph, but Lucas and I had our wedding night, if you know what I mean." She didn't have to admit that had happened before the marriage. "I don't believe an annulment is possible unless I deny the marriage was consum­mated."

  Her father turned with fury. "Then it will be a di­vorce!" he shouted.

  "And suffer the scandal?" Her voice rose as his did.

  Her mouth was set firmly, and her eyes sparkled defiantly. Marcus knew he was beaten. There wasn't a thing he could do, not if her marriage had been con­summated. For that matter, he hadn't bothered to ask Stephanie if she and Joel . . . Lord, how had everything gone from bad to disastrous?

  Sharisse relented a little as she saw how defeated he seemed. "If you will be reasonable and let Stepha­nie and Joel stay married, then I will agree to having my marriage annulled. I can find some other man you will approve of. You can do as I suggested earlier and change your plans about the inheritance. To be honest, I'm in no hurry to get married again. Let Joel and Steph inherit what was going to be mine, Father."

  "You said you were intimate with your husband. How can you annul the marriage?"

  The subject was embarrassing enough without elaborating on it. "He won't contest it. I don't have to be exactly truthful about what passed between us, do I? Can you arrange it with a lawyer?"

  "Anything can be arranged," he said hastily. "But let me get this straight. You're saying this Lucas Holt doesn't care what you do?"

  "That's putting it rather bluntly, but in essence that's true. You see, neither of us really wanted to get married. It was a matter of circumstances, my living under his protection, people assuming we would marry, the preacher coming along—oh, Fa­ther, it's a long story. I would rather not get into it right now," she ended with a sigh.

  Marcus would have none of it. "Don't think you're not going to tell me about this man."

  "There's nothing really to tell," she said. "He's a rancher."

  "In Arizona?"

  "Yes."

  "What is his standing?"

  Sharisse knew the way his mind worked. "He's not rich. He owns a small horse ranch outside the town of Newcomb. It just barely supports him and the few men who work for him. He catches wild horses, tames them, then sells them to the Army and to other ranchers. What breeding stock he has started is still too young for sale, as I understand it."

  "What is he like?"

  Sharisse didn't want to be thinking about Lucas and replied offhandedly, "I guess you could say he's handsome, if you like the type."

  "The type?"

  He just wasn't going to leave it alone. She sighed. "Dark, rugged, excessively masculine. He's tall as well, and frightfully strong, with a body . . ." She blushed to the roots of her hair. Whatever was she doing? "Let's just say his physique might be envied by some men. As for his character, well, he's like you. Stubborn, arrogant." Her father said nothing to that. "Lucas can be roguishly charming, too. He's like no man I've ever met before."

  "How did you come to meet him?"

  She tried to sound bored. "It's all rather compli­cated,"

  Marcus didn't like her evasiveness one bit, but he had heard all he needed to know for the time being. "You're sure he's not for you?"

  She lowered her eyes, feeling quite dejected all o
f a sudden. "That's irrelevant."

  "Why?"

  "If you must know, he didn't want me. He was fu­rious when we were forced to marry."

  Marcus paled, then the color rushed back into his face. "This man dared reject my daughter?"

  "For heaven's sake, Father, my being your daugh­ter had nothing to do with it. I never told Lucas my background. In fact, he thought I was destitute."

  "So you weren't good enough for him," Marcus concluded. "A girl with no money."

  "No. I don't think my means had anything to do with it. He simply didn't want a wife."

  "Then he should have had the decency not to bed you before sending you home!"

  Sharisse cringed. It made Lucas seem so callous, but how could she explain?

  "He didn't send me home, Father. I left of my own accord as soon as I had the means to do so. Lucas won't end the marriage himself. He is leaving that up to me. I have little doubt that if I insisted he re­main my husband, he would do so."

  "What makes you so sure?"

  "We were compatible in many ways."

  Her manner became evasive again, and Marcus asked suspiciously, "Are you being completely hon­est with me, Rissy?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Did this man really let you go, or did you up and take off from him like you did from home?"

  "I didn't consult him about it, if that's what you mean," she replied irritably. "For some reason that he wouldn't tell me, he wanted me to stay for a while. But how could I stay with him after he admit­ted he didn't want a wife?"

  Marcus was thoughtul for a moment before ask­ing, "Is it possible he might come after you?"

  "No," she said firmly. "Even if he wanted to, he doesn't have the money for a long trip. There is no reason why he would want to, anyhow. I really am tired, Father."

  "Of course," Marcus conceded. "But there's just one more thing."

  She sighed. "Yes?"

  "Are you pregnant?"

  Her eyes rounded with incredulity. She hadn't thought, had never even considered . . .

  "No!" she shouted.

  "Then there should be no problem." He gazed at her intently, for she looked alarmed. "Your 'no' was a bit hasty perhaps?"

  "Perhaps," she admitted miserably. "It's just too soon to tell."

  "So it's possible?"

  "Yes!" she snapped. "It's possible."

  Considering her reaction, Marcus said reluc­tantly, "I suppose we should postpone doing any­thing until you are sure."

  "Must we?"

  He shrugged. "We could always invent a husband for you if it becomes necessary. But since you already have one, and since you're reasonably certain you won't ever see him again, anyway, I don't see why we need invent a lie. Do you?"

  "No, I suppose not. I'll just have to wait and see."

  After Sharisse left, Marcus sat back, drumming his fingers on his desk. Both his daughters were mar­ried. He had given neither of them away. All his careful planning had come to nothing. Was this a dream? He shook his head.

  One daughter was happy. Edward could be talked around. And the other daughter? Well, she had been evasive about her feelings for this man Holt, but it hadn't passed his notice how quickly she had come to his defense. And she had glowed when describing him. Did she love the fellow perhaps without know­ing it? Was she only hurt by his rejection?

  The rejection rankled Marcus. Who the hell did Lucas Holt think he was? He had a good mind to—no, he ought to leave well enough alone. Still, something Sharisse had said intrigued him. Holt was like him. That was the only thing wrong with-young Joel. He was capable enough, but he lacked backbone.

  Stubborn, arrogant, she had called Holt. A man cut from the same mold as himself. Marcus smiled for the first time that day. He knew he ought to leave the situation alone. But on the other hand . . .

  Chapter 35

  SHARISSE lay back on her bed and closed her d/eyes. She had just spent two incredibly long hours being fussed over by Jenny. Her skin still tingled from the hard scrubbing she had received in Jenny's vain effort to remove her new skin color. Jenny had done nothing but cluck and tsk over the unfashionable dark tan, but it wasn't going to come off with a brush.

  Charley had settled right in after sniffing every corner of the room. He had taken up his old favorite position in the center of the bed, watching the bustle around him, yawning every once in a while. He knew he was home.

  When Sharisse joined him after Jenny finally left her in peace, Charley curled up against her side. He started purring even before she began stroking him. At least one of them was content with the end of their journey.

  His mistress continued stroking Charley, preoc­cupied. A baby. Was it possible? Of course it was. Her monthly times were always far apart, so that wouldn't tell her much. She had been with a man, a virile, passionate man. She had let him love her, and that was all it took.

  Did she want Lucas's child? A boy to grow up like his father—strong, handsome, arrogant. Or a girl. What would his daughter look like? She knew she shouldn't be thinking about it yet, it was too soon.

  But she couldn't help herself. Now that the shock had passed, she was filled with a strange kind of wonder. To have created something from that won­derful passion she had shared with Lucas was mag­ical. She did want his baby, just as much as she still wanted him. The despicable man. She still ached for him. Yet he had probably already forgotten her.

  "Oh, Rissy!" Stephanie burst into the room with­out warning, scattering Sharisse's thoughts. "Fa­ther just informed me he has sent an invitation to Joel for dinner tonight. It's to officially welcome him into the family. I don't know how you did it! I'm so grateful. I just knew you wouldn't let me down."

  Sharisse sat up slowly, her eyes trained on her sis­ter. "I didn't do it for you, Stephanie. I did it for me."

  "But-"

  "Father still wanted me to marry Joel. Of course that was out of the question."

  "Well, of course. It wouldn't be right after Joel and I—well, you know," Stephanie whispered.

  "No, I don't know."

  Stephanie blushed. "We didn't come directly home after the wedding. There was an inn we went to, and . . ."

  "For heaven's sake, why didn't you tell Father that?" Sharisse snapped.

  "I couldn't say something like that to him," Steph­anie gasped. "You saw how angry he was. It wouldn't have mattered."

  Sharisse shouted in exasperation. "Of course it would have mattered. If you've been with Joel as man and wife, your marriage can't be annulled. Don't you know anything?"

  "Oh, dear. I believe Joel said that. But I was so up­set today, I just didn't think."

  "You never think anymore," Sharisse replied an­grily. "You don't think of consequences, you don't think of-"

  "I don't see what you're displeased about, Rissy. It worked out fine, didn't it?"

  "For you, yes. But I had to give Father a reason why I couldn't marry Joel, and it was something I wanted to keep to myself. Oh, I don't know why I'm even speaking to you after everything you've done!"

  "Oh, Rissy, don't be like that," Stephanie pleaded. "I can explain everything."

  "Can you?" Sharisse demanded. "Then begin by telling me where my jewels are. Because I didn't have them, I was forced to go all the way to Arizona. Why did you take my jewels?"

  "You know how impetuous you are, Rissy. I was afraid you would change your mind and come right back. And I was right, wasn't I? You wrote immedi­ately that you didn't want to stay in Arizona."

  "There is. A monumental difference. Between staying alone. In some quiet town. And staying where I was." Sharisse ground out the words. "Do you have any idea what it was like? Indians still raid. Men wear guns on their hips and think nothing of shooting each other. And the sun does this to your skin, Stephanie." She pointed to her face. "This is not theatrical makeup I'm wearing. It will take months for it to wear off."

  "Well, goodness, Rissy, why didn't you mention any of this in your letter?"

  "Because I
was thinking of your feelings! I thought that if you knew my true plight, you would be so upset about me that you wouldn't be able to work rationally on our situations. But I can see now that it wouldn't have made any difference. You're not at all sorry."

  "That's not true. If there were any other way—"

  "Oh, shut up, Stephanie! I have heard enough."

  Sharisse crossed to her vanity, dismissing her sis­ter. But Stephanie was reluctant to leave. She stared at Sharisse's stiff back and said peevishly, "You said you gave Father a reason why you couldn't marry Joel. Why didn't you just use that excuse before? Then you wouldn't have had to go away in the first place."

  Sharisse glared at Stephanie in her mirror. "Obvi­ously my reason is a fairly new one, or I would have. I can't marry Joel because I already have a hus­band—thanks to my stay in Arizona."

  "What?" Stephanie felt sick. "You married him? But you couldn't have!"

  Sharisse turned slowly in her chair. "Couldn't?"

  "You weren't supposed to. Why did you?"

  "You don't just live in the same house with a man and then refuse to marry him when the preacher comes around," Sharisse said dryly. "I had no choice."

  "Oh, this is just terrible, Rissy. I didn't want any­thing like this to happen to you."

  "I know," Sharisse sighed.

  "What did Father say?"

  "He wasn't exactly pleased."

  "But you're not going to stay married to Mr. Holt, are you?"

  "No."

  "Can you get out of it?"

  Sharisse nodded. "He didn't want a wife."

  Stephanie gasped. "Yes, he did. He—"

  "—was as deceitful as I was. He never had any in­tention of marrying me or anyone else."

  "Why, that's despicable!" Stephanie gasped indig­nantly. After a moment, a new realization dawned. "Oh, dear! If you married him, that means you had to ... make love with him. Without loving him. How awful for you, Rissy. With Joel, it wasn't at all what I expected, but at least I love him. You must have been so unhappy."

  Sharisse smiled. She couldn't help it. "That was not one of my complaints, Stephanie."