She was obsessed with becoming a mother. As if motherhood could instantly make their shambles of a marriage perfect and silence the wagging tongues. Jacob sighed. Angelica wanted a child for all the wrong reasons. Perhaps that was the very reason she was unable to conceive.
Last week, she had come to him, her pale blue eyes red-rimmed from her most recent fit of crying. But her tears had dried abruptly, leaving her eyes glittering with excitement. “We can have a child. I know a way, my darling.” He’d winced. She never called him that unless she had reached the point of extreme hysteria—so extreme that she actually became deceptively calm.
She’d gone on to confide her plan to him. She would quietly whisper to the right women in town that she was expecting. Then she would go away for a few months, to visit a cousin of her mother’s in Mobile. At the right time—say, five months later—Jacob was bound to deliver the right baby for them. A boy she thought would be nice, but that really didn’t matter as long as the child was healthy and perfect.
“What of my patient, the baby’s mother?” he’d asked, horrified, but trying to maintain a calm facade. “What do I tell her?”
Angelica had flipped her lace fan in annoyance. “That the baby died, of course. Don’t act dull-witted, Jacob.”
Jacob had explained as patiently as he could all the reasons that such a plan was impossible, the most obvious one being that if he gave Angelica the infant, there would be no body to present to the sad parents when he announced the death of their child.
Her lovely face had twisted into a grotesque mask as she’d thought this problem over. From her expression, Jacob had dreaded to hear her solution. No doubt her next step would involve robbing graves.
“Angelica, you can’t be serious about this.”
“I am, Jacob!” Her voice had been as cold as death. “If you don’t agree to help, then I’ll simply divorce you.”
She knew that was her one effective weapon. Jacob worshipped his father and the old man believed that marriages were binding and made in heaven. Even though Jacob realized that no kind and understanding God would have had any hand in joining him to Angelica for eternity, old Dr. Saenger believed it totally. A divorce might truly mean the end to him. His heart was bad; he couldn’t stand the shock. So Jacob kept his peace and let Angelica think that he was considering her insane proposal.
He ran a shaky hand through his rumpled hair and shook his head. A glance at the clock told him that he could hide in his office no longer. It was time to leave, time to go home and prepare himself as best he could to see Pandora again.
Angelica heard her father-in-law call her once, twice, a third time from the downstairs hall. He had misplaced his heart pills and was calling for her to find them.
She ignored him. “Tiresome old fool!” she muttered, making a face at her reflection in her mirror. She had better things to do than act as his nursemaid. She had to look perfect tonight. Pandora was coming home.
She smiled at her mirror image and let her tongue glide sensually over her lips. Pandora was coming home, but that wasn’t the important part. Ward Gabriel was returning, too. Angelica had been waiting a long time for this. Ward had made it very clear that night as he’d held her close that he found her quite attractive. If Jacob—in his drunken haze—hadn’t stumbled out into the garden that night, Ward and his silver mine and the fabulous pink palace he’d built would all be hers now.
“But never mind,” she told her image. “I still have a chance.”
After all, Ward and Pandora were only engaged. “There’s many a slip ’tween the cup and the lip,” she sang softly.
She stood and gazed at her full reflection in the looking glass. She smoothed her hands down over her slim waist For once, she was glad that she wasn’t carrying Jacob’s child. She was deliriously happy that she hadn’t conceived. That would have complicated things.
As she appraised her figure with half-closed eyes, she had to smile. Her black silk gown fit her full bosom and narrow waist like a second skin before belling out over her hips into an extravagantly full skirt. A curved line of cherry silk roses swept from one shoulder down to the waist, and the petticoats that peeked out when she walked were cherry and white striped. The gown was cut so low in front that she had to breathe carefully or her nipples rose startlingly above the black silk. She would be careful, she vowed, until she got Ward alone. Then she planned to use every womanly wile she knew.
No one understood better than Angelica herself what a mistake she had made in marrying Jacob Saenger. She still blamed her cousin. Pandora had known all the while that Angelica would want the man she chose. Angelica was firmly convinced that Pandora had become betrothed to Jacob first, realizing that Angelica could and would take him. With her cousin safely married and out of the way, Pandora could now go after the real man of her dreams—Ward Gabriel.
“You were a little fool to fall for her ploy!” Angelica snapped at her reflection. She’d been only a child when she married Jacob; now she was as much a woman as Pandora, with a woman’s understanding of things. If her cousin thought she had the last laugh, she was sadly mistaken.
The smile that curved Angelica’s lips had a feral look about it. “Yes, they are only engaged,” she reminded herself again. “After tonight, who can tell?”
Galveston reminded Pandora of Poseidon’s temple on Atlantis as described by Plato, all overlaid with gold and coppery orichalcum, as the setting sun blazed over her island home.
“I’d forgotten how beautiful this place is and how much I love it,” she whispered, squeezing Ward’s hand.
“You’re catching it in its best light, darling. It’s not so magical when the tropical cyclones threaten to wash it away.”
She gazed up at him and he saw tears in her large emerald eyes. “Any time, any weather, it’s the best place on earth as long as you’re here with me. I don’t ever want to leave again, Ward.”
He put his arm around her and hugged her close. “Then you don’t have to, my love. We’ll stay right here on our little speck of heaven and raise our children and watch them raise our grandchildren. We’ll become pillars of the community and when I’ve grown a long white beard and you have turned into a charmingly plump dumpling of a woman, we’ll hold court at our castle and still be just as much in love as we are this very moment.” He brushed her temple with his lips.
“We are in love, aren’t we?” After their honeymoon voyage home, she wondered that there could be any doubt left in her mind. But Ward still bristled when she made the slightest reference to Laffite or her other life as Nicolette. Why couldn’t he simply accept the truth as she did?
On the journey home, Ward had taken every opportunity to show her how much he loved her by taking her to their bed whenever the spirit moved him.
“We’ll christen Pandora’s Palace the moment we arrive, darling,” he whispered. “Then you’ll know how much you’re loved. As for whether you love me… well, I’m willing to settle for what I have. If you loved me any more, I’m afraid I might die from it. I’m only mortal after all. There are limits to my endurance.”
Pandora flushed scarlet and avoided his eyes. She could hardly believe that statement after the prowess he’d shown in bed last night. She was still tired and guessed that she would be slightly sore for days to come. Her new husband continued to amaze and delight her.
“Just wait until we get to your palace, my darling.” He whispered the words against her ear, sending a shiver of anticipation through her.
“You are joking about this palace, aren’t you?” She tried to lead him away from his passionate thoughts. The other passengers were staring at them and whispering.
“Joking?” He threw back his head and laughed. “Wait till you see it, darling! Nicholas Clayton outdid himself this time. It’s been three years in the building. The materials and furnishings came from all over—Italian marbles, Spanish tiles, French antiques, South American mahogany. And our bed!” he whispered. “No,
I’m not going to ruin the surprise.”
Pandora was about to press him for more details, especially about the marvelous bed, but the gangway was in place and it was time to disembark.
She sighed wearily as they set foot on the dock. “I’m so tired, darling. I can hardly wait to get home.”
Ward squeezed her arm. “I can hardly wait either,” he said, but obviously being tired had little to do with his thoughts.
“Miss Pandora!” someone called.
She glanced about and saw Cassie coming toward them from the Sherwoods’ buggy. The woman was crying and laughing all at the same time. She rushed to her mistress and they embraced, both sobbing happily.
“Lordy, you look so fine!” Cassie said at last. “You, too, Mr. Ward. We got to hurry now.”
“Hurry?” Pandora asked. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Miss Pan. But Miz Tabitha’s got the whole town coming to your engagement party tonight. You’ll just have time to change.”
“Engagement party?” Pandora cried. “But Cassie…”
Ward squeezed her arm to silence her. “I think I can explain, darling,” he said. “I sent a message to your aunt and uncle a few days before we left Naples. At that time, you still hadn’t decided when you wanted to get married. So, they don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?” Cassie asked, her big dark eyes suspicious suddenly.
“That we’re already married, Cass!” Pandora hugged the surprised woman as she cried out her news.
“Lordy, Miz Tabitha’ll be fit to be tied!” Cassie said, rolling her eyes.
Pandora looked worried. She knew her aunt would be disappointed that they had spoiled her grand evening.
“There’s really no problem, ladies,” Ward told them. “You go back and tell them, Cass, that we’ll be there shortly. Don’t break our news to anyone. We’ll go home and change, then arrive a bit late for the party. We’ll tell everyone the truth as soon as we get there. Won’t they be surprised!”
Pandora laughed. “I like it, Ward. Your plan has just the sort of flair I enjoy most.”
He hugged her right there on the dock with passengers, coachmen, and stevedores looking on and grinning. “I thought you’d agree. I know the woman I love.”
Pandora’s Palace, as Ward insisted on calling his mansion, was everything and more that he promised. The new Mrs. Gabriel could hardly believe her eyes as she drove up in front. The four lots on which it stood had been a wilderness three years ago. Now “Gabriel’s folly,” as many Galvestonians were calling her new home, rose to a height of three stories with circular towers, wide verandas, balconies at the upper floors, and a profusion of stained glass, wrought iron, and exquisite statuary.
“Ward, I don’t believe it!” she kept murmuring as he led her from room to room, delighting in her praise.
“Library, front and back parlors, music room, conservatory, formal and informal dining rooms, a study for me, an artist’s studio for you, eight bedrooms…”
“Oh, Ward, stop it!” she cried. “You’re making me dizzy!”
He swept her up in his arms then and kissed her deeply. “And the bed!” he whispered.
Ward carried her up the wide, mahogany staircase with its curving banister and intricate carvings. In moments, they were in the master suite-bedroom, sitting room, dressing rooms, and bath—all done in scarlet damask and gold.
“Your bed, madame!” Ward announced.
Pandora, who had been laughing and snuggling in his arms, suddenly fell silent. Dizziness blurred her vision for an instant. She blinked her eyes rapidly and looked again. It couldn’t be, but it was!
“Ward, where did you get that bed?” she demanded.
His face fell. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s not that. It’s just…” Her words broke off. How could she tell him? How could she explain to him that she knew this bed, that she had slept in it before, that it was the same bed in which Jean Laffite had made love so often to his Nicolette. There was not the slightest doubt. The design was exactly the same. It had the same ornate crest on the headboard. She could still hear Laffite laughing, telling Nicolette, the first time she slept in it, that he had “borrowed” it from a Spanish king just for her.
“Ward, tell me where you found it,” she pleaded.
He shrugged. “In Paris. A dealer there heard that I was buying only the finest antiques for a home I was building. He contacted me. I went to see the bed and I knew it was perfect for this room… for you, Pandora.”
“Did he tell you any of its history?”
He nodded and walked over to touch the design on the headboard. “That’s the emblem of King Carlos of Spain. The bed was made for him and he took it with him from place to place. The dealer told me that a gang of cutthroats stole it from his ship and it eventually wound up in America. Some pirate, he said, was supposed to have owned it for a time. How it got to France from the States is a mystery. Now it’s right where it belongs.”
Pandora nodded. “Yes, exactly where it belongs,” she said wistfully, remembering how it had looked in the bedroom at Maison Rouge.
Ward let out a whistling breath of relief. “You do like it then? I was afraid you were going to tell me you didn’t.”
She put her arms around him and hugged him soundly. “Yes, darling, I love it.” She almost added, “I always have,” but she caught herself in time.
Everyone who was anyone in Galveston was waiting expectantly at the Sherwood home for the couple of honor to arrive. Although word of Pandora’s success as an artist had not leaked back to Galveston to set tongues wagging, the gossips still relished the scandal of her broken engagement and her unexplained disappearance immediately following Jacob and Angelica’s wedding. Now she was returning home, triumphant, to a vertible palace built in her honor.
The best silver, china, and crystal had been brought out for the occasion. The second best set had been used when Pandora’s engagement to Jacob had been announced. But Ward Gabriel was different, Tabitha Sherwood had told her husband; he was special, the catch of the decade.
Jacob and Angelica were the first to arrive. Angelica insisted they be early in spite of the fact that Jacob was late getting home from his office. Just like him, she thought, to work past the usual hour when he knows we have important plans for the evening.
Jacob had been pleasantly surprised when he’d arrived home. He’d expected his wife to throw one of her tantrums. Instead, she had simply ignored him, refusing to say a word after she ordered him to hurry and dress. Fine, he’d thought. They really had nothing to say to each other anyway.
Now, Jacob stood in a far corner of the Gold Room, watching his extravagantly gowned wife flit about like an excited monarch butterfly in her black and scarlet costume. He wanted to point out to her that black was inappropriate for the occasion, but he decided to let it go. Her mother had taken care of the admonishment the moment they’d arrived.
Horror stricken, Tabitha Sherwood had clutched her throat and shrieked, “Angelica, how could you? A black gown! One never wears black to any sort of nuptial occasion and you know it.”
“One wears what one chooses to wear, Mother, and I choose black. I want to stand out in the crowd.”
Well, she certainly did that! Jacob mused. She had every man in the room at her beck and call—bringing her cups of punch, tiny cakes, or just standing over her leering at her dangerously low cleavage, praying for her to take a deep breath. Jacob had to agree with his mother-in-law on this one occasion. Angelica’s costume and behavior were scandalous. She looked more suitable for an assignation on Postoffice Street than for an engagement soiree on Broadway.
Angelica knew Jacob was staring at her, but what did it matter? She’d had all the lectures she could stomach on the proper behavior of a doctor’s wife. She’d also had quite enough of her husband, his father, the old house on Avenue O—enough of everything, she told herself, except Ward Gabriel.
She touched his ruddy cheek. “Poor dear, you must be coming down with a fever,” she crooned. All the others in the circle howled with delight as Weatherbee scurried away.
At the sound of a carriage out front, all the guests pressed toward the door, each one wanting to be the first to catch sight of the guests of honor. Jacob frowned, noting that Angelica hung back. That surprised him. He’d thought she would have shoved past the others in order to be the first to greet Pandora and Ward. She was up to something. He didn’t like it.
Jacob was right. Angelica had her campaign map carefully drawn. She wanted to surprise Ward, to catch him alone when he least expected to see her. While all the others gathered around, she had a chance to gauge her opposition. Pandora, she admitted grudgingly, looked marvelous. She was gowned in seafoam satin, embroidered with pink pearls in a shell pattern that covered her bodice and half the full skirt. Petticoats of silver tissue gleamed beneath the deep ruffle at the hem, and a fabulous necklace of silver set with pink and white cameos covered her throat and seemed to point like an arrow to the full swell of her breasts.
As all the guests pressed in around Pandora, Ward stepped back to avoid the crush. He stood by smiling, feeling understandably proud as he watched the ladies gush over his beautiful bride while the men looked on with envy. He still had to pinch himself now and again to believe that she was actually his. He wondered why he had waited so long to pursue her. He had realized years ago that she was the only woman he could ever love. He grimaced slightly, remembering how close he had come to losing her. If it hadn’t been for her scheming little cousin…
Forever, For Love Page 27
