* * * *
On the little beach beneath the high cliff, Grey stood with Jan in the leaden, cloudy light of the December dawn, watching the Hudson for Watson’s arrival. If Watson showed. They had walked a pace away from Jan’s second, the boatmen and the physician Grey had woken from his bed and dragged along.
“Have you taken leave of your very last sense?”
Jan scowled. “Someone had to take action. He’s your friend, but she’s your wife and you were too blind to see what was happening. Or were you too afraid of damaging a favorable business relationship?”
Grey’s jaw hardened. A cutting breeze blew, carrying scattered snow flurries. He reached out and pulled up the collar of Jan’s greatcoat. “Have a care for yourself. I don’t need you ill as well.”
Jan kept scowling at him. “She’s been unhappy. You haven’t cared. You’ve just kept on living as if you were still unmarried. She was terribly ill, all night, and you couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see it. She’s a true lady in every sense of the word and you don’t deserve her.”
“Jan, these things are not your affair.”
“You don’t deserve her.”
Grey bristled at Jan’s accusation but he merely nodded at the river. “Go back to the boat.”
“No, I will face Watson and make him answer for his insults. For his attack on Beth.”
Dread twisted in Grey’s gut. If Jan were determined to face Watson, what could Grey do, short of hitting him over the head or bodily carrying him back to the boat, to stop him?
Either of those choices would prove too injurious to Jan’s budding reputation and honor as a gentleman. Jan was a boy no longer.
Grey could lose his only son. Today.
For a moment, it seemed as though his heart had stopped beating.
Then it resumed.
This was the price for seeing a son nearly grown. He stared at this young man before him, who seemed to waver between boyhood and adulthood in the moment.
Well, he was determined not to lose Jan. “Go back and I will tend to this business,” Grey said.
Jan scowled. “You don’t deserve to be her champion. You are not present for her when she needs you most. Only when it suits your needs to you bother with her at all.”
Coldness settled over Grey. “My marriage is my own affair. Not yours.”
“Promise me that you will change for her. Promise me that you will be a true husband to her,” Jan said, his expression hard and determined.
“Jan, this is not your affair. Do as I say. Go wait for me.”
“It was Watson’s fault she fell from her horse.”
Shock washed over Grey. He narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Yes, he followed us to Red Oaks. He tracked her down while she was out riding. I saw them together and he put his hands on her—treated her quite roughly. She denied it and I didn’t push for details. I don’t know what he said to her but it upset her enough that she rode her horse blindly.”
“Good God.”
“She has been distressed for a long time now. You were blind. You didn’t notice. You didn’t care.”
Grey stared at Jan, stunned at the strident emotion that had sounded in his voice.
“Aye, you look at me like that, Father, but you know it is the truth. You know why I have to do this. Why I have to face Watson. Someone in our family has to care for Beth.”
Grey held up a forestalling hand. “She’s my wife. It’s my honor at stake.”
“Then promise me that you will make an effort, that you will try to change for her. That you will be a better husband to her. If you won’t do that much, then you are no fit champion for her.”
Jan’s voice shook and his eyes were full of fiery emotion.
Indignation arose in Grey. His jaw tightened. Jan was really overstepping his bounds this time.
But wait—
It hit Grey full force, the accusation from his own son.
Jan was not the enemy here. Neither was Watson at the core of the issue.
Grey was the one at fault. Everything currently coming to pass, was a result of his neglect of his son and his wife.
He had been a neglectful husband. He had failed to notice Beth’s distress.
He had failed to protect her.
It hadn’t been intentional.
It hadn’t been from a lack of caring.
It certainly had not been from any lack of love.
But none of that mattered. The result was all that mattered. He must do what was needed to make things right.
Grey nodded, slowly, intentionally easing his expression. “All right, Jan, I promise to be a better husband to her.”
Jan glared at him a moment longer.
“I promise, Jan,” Grey repeated, allowing more emotion into his voice this time.
Jan’s face relaxed.
Grey turned from Jan, staring intently at the Hudson. With every heartbeat, grim determination pounded into his blood. He knew what he must do. “Go back to the boat, Jan. Wait for me there.”
“But, Father—”
“It’s my quarrel with Watson, not yours.” He caught Dr O’Brien’s eye and motioned him over. He would serve as well for a second as a doctor.
Grey turned to head up the narrow, rocky path to the dueling area he and his associates had been using for as long as he could remember.
“But, Father, I can go with you.”
Grey stopped, turned around. Jan stared back at him, so very earnest. So ready to be of help, to be needed. It was almost painful for Grey to look at him. Beth tried to tell me—I wouldn’t listen.
“I can be your second,” Jan added, his voice tense with the emotion he was so obviously trying to conceal.
Love for his son suffused Grey but something else too. Grudging admiration. Pride.
Grey shook his head. “Go and wait with the boatmen.”
Turning away, Grey resumed his climb up the narrow path. Beth was right. He had not valued his son’s individuality. But she had seen Jan all along the way as he truly was. She had a woman’s kind of wisdom. A strength in her softness. He hadn’t valued her. He had almost lost her and Jan and everything truly important to him. He had not properly honored her place in his life or admitted to himself what he truly needed from her.
And what did he really need from her?
He needed her to provoke him and get him out of his head and make him feel. He needed her to save him from himself and his isolation from those around him. Thank God for Beth—he needed her fire in his life. He also needed to live up to what she needed so she could believe in him.
He needed her to truly love him.
But for that he’d have to make it safe for her to do so.
God, he had been so righteously angry about Mrs. Hazelwood imposing her standards on Beth, forcing her to suppress her spirited personality.
Yet, hadn’t he been doing the same thing all along? He had tried to force Beth into the role of a submissive mistress. Of course he had married her, but he continued to try and put her into a gilded cage, available when he needed her and on the shelf when he did not.
He had to fully open his life to her. He couldn’t be partway a husband. He’d have to dedicate himself to her and to Jan and to their children. The business must come second now.
How odd that the thought rested so easily with him now. There was no panic, no anxiety about things spiraling away from him. There was nothing but sure resolve.
As he came to the halfway point, the snow was falling steadier, sticking to the path.
“Sexton!”
It was Watson’s voice. Grey stopped and faced the dark-looking river and the bleak clouds resting low on the horizon. Farther back on the path, Dr. O’Brien gave him a quizzical look.
All Grey saw was Watson, seeing not his friend of so many years, but the man who had harassed and attacked Beth, causing her to fall from her horse.
She might have lost a child in that fall.
She might have been permanent
ly injured.
She might have died.
In any case, between gentlemen, there could be no excuse or apology for such an insult and injury done to a woman.
And then there was the attempt to place doubt between Grey and his only son. The attempt to paint Beth as a callous seducer of a boy, an adulteress.
Thomas would answer for it. For all of it.
“You’ll face me today, Thomas,” he called down to the beach.
Watson just stood there. Moments passed.
Grey began to wonder if he had been heard. Then Watson spoke, “The boy challenged me, Grey, not the other way around. I’ve got no quarrel with you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He didn’t want to say more with the physician and the boatmen there. But his eyes met with Thomas’ and locked. He let all his deadly intent show. He wouldn’t delope or intentionally misdirect his aim.
Thomas had crossed an uncrossable line. Gentlemen understood these things.
And Thomas did understand, for he paled and twisted his mouth. He turned away and gazed out at the river for a moment. Then he turned back and smiled a tortured, forced-looking smile. “Well, good God, Sexton, come back down here. We’ve got some serious talking to do.”
“Talk won’t do today, Watson.”
Thomas turned paler than ever. Then with a curse, he turned and began striding back to the river.
Grey’s stomach twisted with disgust. Watson had been ready to face a boy, his precious son. But now, he would run?
Damnation! He wouldn’t get away that easily.
Grey turned and hurried back down the narrow path.
“If you select to run today, keep running Thomas.” Grey called out as he came off the path. “You might just find New York a bit less hospitable than before.”
Almost to the boat, Watson spun about to face Grey. “You rejected my Jenna. You put a servant’s daughter in her place.”
Grey scowled. “Her place? I’ve told you before that I was never going to marry Jenna. Never.”
“What will decent people do when I tell all of New York how Grey Sexton met his darling bride? What will happen to your own good name?” Watson nodded at Jan. “Who will allow their daughter to marry the son of a man married to such a woman?”
Grey’s blood ran colder than ever. “Who will believe a man without honor? A man who attacks women but will not face that woman’s husband on the field of honor?”
Thomas’ lip curled upward. “Oh, you’re a fine one to talk of honor. Your wife is a whore.” Thomas turned his head and spat. “A lovely one, but a whore nonetheless.”
Rage filled Grey.
He was going to get his satisfaction one way or the other.
He rushed at Watson. Planted his fist into the other man’s midsection. He had put all his murderous anger into the blow and Watson fell backwards.
Jan’s whoop of delight echoed in his ears as he bent and grasped hold of the collar of Watson’s greatcoat. “Get up you gutless coward.”
He dragged the other man to his feet.
On his feet now, Watson swung his fist. Grey ducked and gave him another punch to his stomach. This time Watson managed to evade him, twisting away. Watson picked up a large piece of driftwood. Straightening to a standing position, he held the wood over his head with both hands, like a club. He came at Grey, howling as Grey backed away swiftly.
Grey put his hands over his head, deflecting the blow, grasping the wood. And they grappled for control over the large wooden piece. Nearly equally matched for strength, their bodies swayed back and forth. Then Grey managed to land a solid blow in Watson’s midsection.
Watson let go of the huge stick, staggering back.
Grey lunged at him, grasped his collar. “This is for Beth,” he said, and then he planted his fist into Watson’s face.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“I took his place.”
Grey’s words fell on Beth like a deluge of cold water and she set her cup of steaming licorice tea down on the night table. “You what?”
“It took some doing, but Jan convinced me it was my honor at stake, and I took his place.”
With terror crawling over her scalp, she gaped at him. He looked fine but— “Oh God, are you hurt?” She gingerly touched his wool-covered chest.
“No, I am not harmed.”
Relief made her so weak she had to lie back on her pillow. “What happened to Watson?”
He reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “Fortunately, he offered me a grudging apology.”
At least there would be no blood between them over this whole overblown matter. But she dreaded the next question. “And your friendship?”
“It seems over, Beth. I can forgive but not forget his attempt to place a wedge between us.” He caressed her hair. “Darling, I don’t want you to fear him any longer. He has decided to return to Boston.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. “Boston?”
“Yes, New York is a growing town. He thinks Boston shall be more copasetic for him now.”
At the hard note under Grey’s tones, Beth understood. He had made moving back to Boston a term of his acceptance of the apology from Watson. She couldn’t be sorry.
Grey’s hand stilled on her hair. “But I can’t for the life of me figure out why he would turn on me like this. To attack my wife, provoke my son to a deadly duel… Good God, I begin to think I never knew him at all.”
“Jenna…he wanted you free for her.” It was hard to speak. She had to conserve her voice. “Maybe he reckoned if you thought Jan had real reason to duel with him over my honor, then you’d turn on me.”
“I thought he’d accepted that I was never going to marry Jenna.” Grey took her hand and drew it to his lips. “I was never going to marry anyone else ever again, until I met a certain young lady in a Philadelphia bookseller’s and she led me on a merry chase.”
That brought back the disquieting specter of his upcoming trip. “When are you leaving for Philadelphia?”
“I am not going.”
Hope sprang within her. “You’re not? But the Pride?”
“I am sending Jan.” A small smile curved his lips.
“Jan?” She couldn’t have been more shocked.
“You said he needed some real responsibility.”
“But it seems so sudden.” She coughed. “So much responsibility.”
“I am sending him with detailed written instructions for Mr. Heron. It’s going to be Jan’s responsibility to keep me informed on how Mr. Heron follows my orders.”
“But the risk?”
“Mr. Heron is trustworthy and capable—he really doesn’t need anyone, not even me, breathing down his neck to do a good job. But, yes, I could lose the case. It’s just the cost of one cargo. Perhaps I have been overly concerned about this. Blown it up out of proportion in the larger scheme of things. Our reputation has always been good. We’ll weather a charge of fraud. Jan needs this. If this is what it takes to prove my caring and how much he is worth to me, then I shall risk the loss.” He kissed her forehead. “Besides, my place is here in New York with you, my love.”
She glanced up at him. “Grey, are you—?” Her voice broke. “That mansion in Long Island?”
He squeezed her hand and smiled at her, his silver eyes full of soul-deep tenderness. “I think I shall buy it for us both. We need someplace close, of our own, to go away to together.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. They were not going to part. Not now.
“When I am well I shall return to teach at the school,” she said.
“Yes, I think you should. You need something of your own. I am a busy man and I doubt that will change any time soon. However, I promise I shall be more selective in the engagements I choose to attend in the evenings. I have always been mindful of maintaining my contacts but now I see it is more important that I spend time with you and, when our child comes, it shall be even more imperative. I pledge to you that I shall spend no more than
two nights a week away from home without you. Will that suffice?”
She smiled, her eyes blurring with happy tears. She nodded.
He cupped her face. “Thank you for being patient with me, my love.”
“The fault wasn’t completely yours.”
His eyes shone like silver stars. “You own my heart. Now and forever.”
“I love you completely.” She croaked the words without any reservations.
The heaviness she’d lived with for so long lifted from her heart. They were going to be all right. She, Grey, Jan, and however many children they were blessed with, would be all right. She would have everything she’d ever wanted. They would be a real family.
“If you must have your sister and her girls here in your life, then I shall not gainsay it. I’ll buy her a house—a nice one. But you must swear you will allow me to handle her financial needs. I’ll even get Charlie a small house in Philadelphia. However, I must have your word—no more giving them money from that which is yours and yours alone.”
She nodded. Grey was being more than reasonable, more than tolerant. Ruth and Charlie were going to have to learn to live within their means.
He smiled. “All right, then, that’s settled.”
“But you must promise me…” Her hoarse voice was breaking now, but it had to be said.
He stroked her hair. “Anything, my love.”
She swallowed hard, trying to make the most of what was left of her voice. “You must eat at noon every day and you must sleep at least six hours each night.”
His eyes softened even more and he chucked low. “From that first day, I knew you would be a bossy female. I wonder that I didn’t have the wisdom to stay away.”
“I mean it, Grey.” She fixed him with a severe look. “You will not be dropping dead on me.” She coughed and cleared her throat. Fiery pain made her grimace. “I shall never forgive you if you do.”
He nodded. “All right, Beth, it shall be as you say.”
“In my bed.” She held her breath.
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