by Linda Ladd
Brent enfolded her in his arms, satisfied at the fright so evident in her large, expressive eyes. Her fear of her husband would serve Brent well. And he would make sure it grew until Logan could not touch her without her quaking with terror. He murmured softly against her fragrant hair, “It's just that I love you so, my darling. I want you with me, so that I can take care of you.”
Suddenly the thought of leaving Brent and traveling far away to the Colorado Territory with an unknown husband overwhelmed her. Her throat constricted, and her whisper was hoarse.
“I cannot bear the thought of leaving you, Brent.”
It was the first time she'd admitted any feeling for him, and Brent fingered an escaped tendril of silver.
“Then don't go to Cord. Tell Thomas you want an annulment.”
Elizabeth broke away, and Brent watched, hoping she'd agree this time. She turned to face him, her words tortured, her eyes beseeching him to understand.
“I can't, Brent. You know Grandfather is too ill. He would be terribly upset if I disobeyed his wishes.”
Brent frowned, wishing the old man would hurry up and die. But he still believed that if Elizabeth insisted, Thomas would relent and agree to the annulment. She was the only living member of the Pennington family, and Thomas had paid a small fortune to get her back. He couldn't last too much longer, and then Elizabeth would become a very rich heiress. It galled Brent that Logan Cord would control the Pennington fortune. Cord had already stolen the Holloway mine. And Estelle. Brent's teeth clenched, but none of the suppressed rage showed as he took Elizabeth's arm.
“When Thomas sees how you suffer at Cord's hands, he'll realize his mistake in forcing you to marry him.”
Brent's words sent more shivers of apprehension over Elizabeth's skin, and she moved silently at his side, her mind flitting uneasily from one thought to another. No matter what Brent said, it was too late to stop her marriage. Logan's father, Michael, had already written his son informing him of the marriage contract, and she'd already moved out of her grandfather's house and into the Cord mansion. Michael was in the process of making arrangements for her to return to Colorado when her husband came for her. But each day that Logan Cord did not arrive was like an answer to her fervent prayers. She could not contemplate a life with a man like Logan Cord. If Brent held him in such contempt, he must be a terrible man. Brent would never hate without reason.
Dr. Petaire kept his office in the Sisters of Charity Hospital at the south end of Fourth Street, and as they stepped outside the hospital foyer, the rumbling of wagons and carriages was loud after the quiet corridors inside. Elizabeth waited as Brent motioned to their coachman, and she took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air. She always felt better out of doors, especially when she took long, solitary walks on the grounds of the Cord estate.
The carriage was drawn by two high-stepping grays that pranced impatiently as Brent helped her into the cushioned seats.
He climbed up, ignoring the seat across from her as he settled very close, resting one arm behind her. His fingers touched her shoulder, and Elizabeth looked quickly at the driver. Her father-in-law frowned upon her friendship with Brent, but fortunately Michael had not forbidden her to see him, and until he did, she would not voluntarily give up the pleasure of his company.
“Why do you frown so, my darling?”
Concern threaded Brent's voice, and when Elizabeth kept her face averted, he raised her small chin with a gloved finger. His breath caught as she raised her long black lashes.
“I am so very frightened of meeting Logan Cord.”
A glimmer appeared in the dark green eyes, and he squeezed her hand consolingly.
“I know, Elizabeth. That's why you must refuse to go with him.”
“You dislike him, don't you?”
Brent's answer was quick and unequivocal. “That's a mild way to put it. I despise the man.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard at his hatred. All the days after her memory loss, Brent had come to her grandfather's house to see her, had been understanding and kind, insisting on driving her daily to see Dr. Petaire. He was a good man, and the only time Brent was anything but kind and gentle, she thought with foreboding, was at the mention of her husband. She sighed deeply as they passed the gates of Lafayette Park, and she set her eyes on the tall sandstone portico of the Cord mansion ahead. She caught sight of a tall man running down the steps, and she leaned forward slightly.
“Is that Michael leaving the house, Brent?”
Brent followed her gaze, hoping it was. Michael Cord made no pretense of liking Brent's relationship with Elizabeth.
Elizabeth watched Brent's intent gaze turn slowly into a black frown.
“That, my dear, is Logan Cord himself. It looks as though your new husband has finally come for you.”
Elizabeth's heart stopped in midbeat, her eyes riveted fearfully on the rider in the distance as he galloped away in the opposite direction. They reached the graveled drive at the front of the house moments later, and Brent helped her down, his face set in hard, angry lines. He stood stiffly without speaking, and Elizabeth looked down the street after Logan Cord, half afraid he'd seen them and would turn back.
The road was empty, and she breathed easier as she moved up the steps. The carved entry doors stood ajar, and Elizabeth paused at the threshold. Her maid, Amanda, stood in the center of the wide marble hall, sobbing hysterically into her stiff white apron, while Michael Cord stood patting her shoulder in an awkward attempt to calm her.
“Come now, Amanda,” he was saying in an exasperated voice. “There's nothing to cry about. Logan's gone now....”
His words trailed away as he caught sight of Elizabeth's white face in the doorway. Brent Holloway stood behind her, watching mockingly as Michael gave Amanda a push toward the kitchen.
“What has happened to Amanda?” Elizabeth asked at once, and Michael avoided her intent eyes and shrugged.
“Nothing, really. She's just high-strung.”
He smiled, but Elizabeth persisted. “But she's so frightened. Surely something must have happened to make her take on so.”
Michael hesitated, unwilling to tell her about the ugly scene between Logan and him. Especially in front of Brent Holloway. He more than shared his son's low opinion of Elizabeth's friend, and it was damned unfortunate Elizabeth had grown so fond of him. Michael tolerated his presence only for her sake, but this was a private matter, and he'd be damned if Brent would be included.
“This concerns our family, dear. If Brent will excuse us, I'll explain it all to you.”
He looked pointedly at the other man and saw something ugly move in the dark green eyes.
“Wasn't that Logan we just saw?” Brent asked with a malignant smile, lounging indolently against the door frame. “We saw him as we turned the corner, and he rode off as if the hounds of hell were after him.”
Michael fixed cold eyes on Brent as he finished his deliberate taunt. “Could it be he's not exactly thrilled with his arranged marriage?”
Elizabeth's body tensed as Michael uttered an oath beneath his breath, then answered tightly, “It was Logan, and that's why Elizabeth and I need to talk. Alone.” The last was emphasized, and Brent inclined his head with a polite smile.
“Of course, Michael. I understand.”
His words were studied, his smile false, and Michael was only too aware it was all for Elizabeth's benefit. Brent turned to Elizabeth, drawing her slim fingers to his lips. He ignored Michael's dark scowl and lingered over her hand.
“I'll call again tomorrow,” he whispered.
Elizabeth nodded, quickly withdrawing her hand when she caught sight of Michael's disapproving frown. Brent smiled and bent in a slight bow, then left, closing the hall door quietly behind him, pleased that Logan opposed the marriage. His feelings would work nicely in Brent's plan to take Elizabeth away from him.
Twelve
After he'd left, Michael and Elizabeth stared at each other in silence, Michael dreading to relat
e what had happened earlier with Logan. Logan's irrational behavior put him in a most difficult situation, but he would not hurt Elizabeth if he could help it. She'd been charming and agreeable during the eight weeks he'd known her, and he'd grown very fond of the beautiful young woman. She had enough to cope with since she'd lost her memory, and he wanted to shield her from further pain. She waited warily, her delicate brows dented in a small frown. It was suddenly important to Michael to ease the worried furrow and bring back the warm glow of happiness to the soft violet depths. But most often, that particular look was reserved for Brent Holloway, and Michael found that most disturbing,
“Come into the parlor, Elizabeth, and I'll tell you about Logan.”
Elizabeth followed him dutifully, watching as he walked across the room to stand before the marble fireplace. The front parlor was small compared to the other rooms in the Cord mansion, but it had become Elizabeth's favorite since she'd been in residence. The dark green Victorian furniture and gold brocade wallcovering reminded her of a warm summer day. She hesitated just inside the door, until Michael looked across at her.
“Please sit down, Elizabeth.”
She did as he bade, gracefully spreading her skirts upon the nearest curved sofa. Michael stood, his back to her, facing the ornate golden mirror above the mantel. She watched his reflection worriedly, and the silence soon became uncomfortable enough to cause Elizabeth alarm. It must be very bad news if Michael was so hesitant to begin.
When he finally looked at her, it was easy to read the uncertainty in her eyes, but he still hesitated, inwardly cursing Logan for walking out and leaving him in such a predicament. He took a deep breath.
“Logan's very angry, Elizabeth. Brent was right—he doesn't want this marriage.”
Elizabeth sat very still. Inside, deep in her heart, the first stirring of hope fluttered alive. Perhaps Logan Cord would dissolve the marriage himself, leaving her free to marry Brent. She waited with bated breath as Michael continued.
“I tried to explain the legalities to him. There's no question your marriage is binding. But he's so damn stubborn, Elizabeth, I just couldn't make him see reason. I'm afraid he's on his way to confront Thomas.”
Elizabeth's alarmed eyes darted to him. “He must not upset Grandfather! He is too weak!”
Michael's voice gentled, his eyes drawn to the nervous fidgeting of her fingers in her lap.
“I'm sure the doctor won't permit Logan to see Thomas, dear. You're the only one they've allowed in his bedchamber since he worsened.”
Elizabeth thought a moment, then asked the question that had been hovering in her mind. “Please tell me why Amanda was so upset.”
Michael ran an impatient hand through the thick waves of gray over his temples. “Oh, Logan was angry, and he stormed in and ranted around a bit. Nothing really to warrant such fright in her. As I said, Amanda is easily upset. I understand she grew up with a brute of a father who often took a whip to her.”
Elizabeth shivered. Brent had described Logan as a brute.
Michael turned away from Elizabeth's obvious anxiety and paced to the windows, staring unseeingly into the sculptured gardens below. Only the tick of the clock broke the silence until Elizabeth said quietly, “I would not oppose an annulment if your son wishes his freedom.”
Michael turned quickly to study her.
“You know that's impossible, Elizabeth. Thomas wouldn't hear of it. He's convinced this marriage to Logan is in your best interest. It's done now; there's no turning back.”
Elizabeth looked down at her hands, and Michael sighed as he walked back to her. Slowly he sat down beside her, silently studying her finely boned profile. Finally he spoke the question that was hovering between them.
“Is Brent the reason you want to end the marriage?”
The question hung suspended between them. Elizabeth gathered her nerve to reply truthfully, and Michael sat very still, afraid of what her answer would reveal. She avoided his questioning gaze and spoke so low that he barely heard her.
“I fear I am falling in love with Brent.”
Michael groaned in dismay and stared at her. It was the very worst thing that could have happened. But he'd seen it coming. He sighed heavily and laid his hand over hers. “Elizabeth, you must never let that happen. You are Logan's legal wife, whether the two of you like it or not. A relationship between Brent and you would have repercussions I shudder to think about.”
Elizabeth raised her eyes at the seriousness of his tone, and Michael went on, anxious to impress on her the danger of the situation.
“There's bad blood between Logan and Brent already. Logan blames him for my son Justin's death. And if there is any hint of scandal, there's no telling what Logan would do.”
“Nothing has happened between us, Michael. You must believe that.” The innocence in Elizabeth's face left no question of her guiltlessness. “But Brent wishes me free so that we might wed.”
Michael stiffened with anger, thinking Brent Holloway was a self-serving scoundrel, and if the truth were known, Brent was after the Pennington fortune. Michael had heard rumors that he'd fallen on hard times out in Denver, but he seemed to be doing well enough at the present. Elizabeth was well worth any man's attention, but her grandfather's vast estate made her doubly attractive to men like Holloway.
He watched Elizabeth, as always struck by the perfection in her small face. If her feelings for Brent were genuine, they were all in trouble. But if it was only an infatuation, separating them was Michael's highest priority. They'd already planned a trip to Colorado for the wedding ball, and there she'd be out of Brent's reach. The sooner Logan saw her, the sooner he'd come to his senses. Women had always found his son irresistible, and Elizabeth would probably be no different.
“We'll leave soon for Colorado, and things will be better. Brent has been your only friend since your accident, and it may be that your feelings toward him are based on gratitude.”
Elizabeth didn't agree, and he felt obligated to warn her of the dire consequences of seeing Brent again.
“Being with Brent will only lead to tragedy, dear. Please believe me. I know how Logan feels about that man. A confrontation between them would be most unpleasant.”
Elizabeth looked unconvinced, so Michael tried again.
“When you and Logan get to know each other, I'm sure you'll be happy. My son is a fine man, Elizabeth. It's just that damnable temper of his that gets him in trouble. He needs to settle down and raise a family. And I'm sure he'll be most pleased with you. Any man would be.”
None of Michael's words raised Elizabeth's spirits, which had sunk to new lows. Brent was lost to her forever, and her face reflected her sorrow.
“Will Logan be back soon to meet me?”
Michael winced but answered truthfully, “No, he's already gone, my dear.”
“Gone?”
“Back to Denver. We'll be following as soon as I can finalize the arrangements. I've decided to escort you myself, and by the time we get there, Logan will have calmed down.”
Despite Michael's fears of how Elizabeth would accept the news of Logan's departure, Elizabeth felt nothing but relief. She listened while Michael told her about their journey to Colorado, appalled to learn that he planned to leave before the week was out. More upset by the prospect than she wished Michael to detect, she excused herself as soon as she could and fled the parlor. She stood in the hall below the crystal chandelier and listened to the soft tinkling of the glass prisms in the gentle breeze from the transom over the front door. The sound was happy and at direct odds with her mood as she climbed the curved oaken staircase with leaden footsteps. She found sanctuary inside her bedroom, tossing her cape upon the white silk bed. She moved to the wide window and stood looking out, trying not to think about her future. Her eyes came alert as Amanda rounded the side of the house, carrying a market basket. Elizabeth waited until she entered the house, then pulled the embroidered bell pull. She had to know what Logan Cord had done to frighten her so
much.
Moments later, Amanda appeared at the doorway. She was about Elizabeth's size, only a bit taller. Her carroty hair that curled in bouncy ringlets peeked from beneath her cap, but her almond-shaped brown eyes lacked their usual cheerful glint. Her small freckled face still bore traces of weeping, and Elizabeth put a comforting arm around her thin shoulders.
“Tell me what happened downstairs, Amanda.” Her voice was steady, but her heart beat in a staccato rhythm. “Did he strike you?”
Amanda O'Neil looked at the sympathy in Elizabeth's eyes, and her heart twisted to think her sweet little mistress was married to the huge, scowling giant. His long legs and massive chest brought to mind vivid memories of her own father in his rages. Her young face whitened and her voice shook pitifully.
“No, ma'am, but he might have if Master Michael hadn't come.”
Elizabeth's face took on an ashen hue at her words, but Amanda was too excited to see the alarm that had surfaced in Elizabeth's eyes.
“Did you do anything to provoke such anger, Amanda?” she asked quietly. “Did you disobey him?”
“No, ma'am, I swear I didn't! I was just standing in the hall, dusting, and the door flew open hard enough to bang against the wall! And he came in, cursing like a...” She strove for a fitting comparison, then found one that did not soothe her mistress's anxiety. “Like a huge and wicked devil!”
Elizabeth's slender hands went to her heaving breast as she visualized the scene. “What did he look like?” she whispered.
Amanda wasted no time, for Logan's furious visage was burned like a brand into her young, impressionable mind.
“He is huge, much bigger than Master Michael, or even Mr. Holloway. He's the biggest man I've ever seen. His hair is blond, and his shoulders like this.” She held out her arms to their full capacity. “And his eyes were blue, I think, but they looked black because he was frowning.”
