by Sherry Lewis
Shelby knew what it was, but her hands still trembled as she broke the seal and pulled out the single sheet. “It’s an invitation to Lydia’s ball.”
“Lord above.” Meg clasped both hands to her mouth and rolled her eyes heavenward. “I never thought I’d see this day again. You’ve done it, Madame. You’ve made your way back in to society.”
“Yes.” But what a hollow victory. Shelby lowered the invitation to her side. “I’ve managed to secure one invitation.”
“One invitation from Lydia Englund,” Meg pointed out. “If Mrs. Englund wants you at her ball, other invitations will soon follow. You can count on that. Now. . . ” Meg tapped her finger against her chin thoughtfully. “What will you wear?”
Shelby shook her head quickly. “I’m not going.”
“Not going?” Meg stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Whyever not? This is what you’ve been working for.”
“It’s what I was working for. But things have changed.”
Meg eyed her suspiciously. “What things?”
“Things.” Shelby sat on the bottom step and confided, “I’ve recently learned that Patricia Starling is the twins’ mother.”
Meg scowled at her, but she didn’t seem even slightly surprised.
And the realization dawned quickly. “You knew, didn’t you?”
Meg nodded, but she looked miserable. “I knew.”
“And you didn’t tell me, either?” The sting of Meg’s betrayal ran almost as deep as Zacharias’s. Shelby shot to her feet again. “How could you keep something like that a secret? How could you let me believe that I was their mother? That I’d abandoned them?”
“You should be their mother,” Meg said firmly.
“But I’m not.” Shelby kneaded her forehead with her fingertips. “I’m not. Patricia Starling is. And it’s not right to keep the truth from the twins.”
Meg’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t mean that you think they should be told. That their illegitimacy be exposed.”
“I think they deserve to know who their mother is. I think they deserve to know their mother’s love.”
Meg let out a derisive laugh. “A mother’s love? From Patricia Starling? You don’t remember what she’s like, do you?”
“Does it matter? She’s their mother—”
“And you’re Zacharias’s wife.”
“Not for long.” The words fell between them like pebbles dropped into a deep well.
Meg’s mouth fell open. “You’ll step aside and let Mrs. Starling sink her claws into Zacharias? You’ll let her manipulate him through those poor children?”
“He belongs with her,” Shelby said firmly. “And so do the twins.”
“He belongs with you.” Meg’s voice rose with each word. “Patricia Starling would be a horrible mother to those sweet boys. She cares nothing for them.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know,” Meg insisted. “For five long years you’ve cooped yourself up in this house and let the world think the worst of you for turning your back on your own children. Meanwhile, the woman who really abandoned them dances around town with a glowing reputation and behaving like the belle of the ball.”
Shelby opened her mouth to argue, then stopped and tilted her head to look at Meg. “Say that again.”
“Being noble is one thing, but you’ve carried it too far. Patricia Starling is the one who’s turned her back on those children, not you. She’s in that house at least three times a week and yet she never spends a moment with them. Now, I ask you, what kind of mother is that?”
“Maybe she’s just concerned about keeping the truth hidden.”
“And maybe she’s more concerned with dancing and winning gentlemen’s hearts than with anything of substance.” Meg’s face puckered with disapproval. “If she wanted to see those boys, she could. There’s nothing stopping her. Nobody else would ever have to know. But Jada tells me that she has never once set foot in that nursery.”
“Yes, but—” Shelby broke off and kneaded her forehead again. “But she’s their mother. They need her, and I have no right to take her place.”
“You can toss me out on my ear for saying this,” Meg said firmly, “but deciding what’s right and what’s wrong isn’t that easy. At least, it never has been for me. If it was that easy, I dare say scarcely a soul alive would ever do wrong.”
Miraculously, the weight began to lift from Shelby’s heart. She studied the invitation for a long moment, arguing with herself, weighing the pros and cons, trying not to let her feelings for Zacharias cloud her judgment.
“If you’ll pardon me for saying so,” Meg blurted after watching her with obvious impatience, “it’s time you started listening to your heart once in a while. You’ve let your head rule you for far too long.”
“But what if I do the wrong thing?”
“You might,” Meg conceded. “But isn’t there an equal chance you’ll do the right thing? If I’d listened only to my head, I’d never have given Colin the time of day. And I certainly wouldn’t have stayed here with you these past five years.” She took Shelby’s hand in hers and squeezed it gently. “You didn’t ask for my advice, but I’m giving it anyway. Take the risk. See where your heart takes you. Stop looking at the world as if everything is all one way or the other. It isn’t. Maybe you didn’t give birth to those boys, but they belong with you.”
Shelby wanted to believe that, but she couldn’t. “There’s one more thing you don’t know,” she said. “Patricia is pregnant again.”
“Another child?” Meg’s brows knit, the edges of her mouth curved into a deep frown. “Just now?”
“Yes. So, you see—”
“What I see,” Meg said, propping her hands on her hips, “is that it’s an amazing coincidence that another child would turn up just as Zacharias realizes he’s in love with you. And if you don’t see that, you’re looking at this entire situation with your eyes shut.”
Shelby began to tremble so badly she had to sit on the step to steady herself. “You think it’s a trick?”
“I think it’s a lie,” Meg said. “A dirty lie cooked up between Patricia and Victoria together.”
Shelby stared at her, unable to speak, scarcely able to think. Of course. Of course. Victoria would go to any lengths to keep Agatha and Zacharias apart. Concocting a story like this certainly wouldn’t be beneath her. She knew how deeply Zacharias loved his children. She knew he’d do anything to protect them, to make their lives better.
“So—?” Meg demanded. “What are you going to do about it? Are you going to sit here on the stairs and let that woman waltz away with your husband, or are you going to fight for what’s yours?”
Shelby smiled slowly. She met Meg’s gaze steadily, drew a deep breath, and stood to face her. “I’m going to fight.”
Zacharias paced the sitting room at Summervale, waiting for Agatha to join him. Why had she sent for him? What did she want of him? He hoped for the best. He feared the worst.
Scowling, he glanced at the mantle clock and heaved a deep sigh. She’d kept him waiting for nearly fifteen minutes already, and if she didn’t come soon, he was likely to jump out of his skin.
What could be keeping her?
He paced to the window and frowned out at the gardens. He could see Colin pulling weeds along the path, Meg talking to him, Colin’s quick laugh. Meg’s almost girlish smile. They had a fine love. A deep and abiding love that had stood the test of time. Zacharias would give anything to know the joy of it.
“Zacharias?”
He’d been so engrossed in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard Agatha come in. At the sound of her voice, he spun around to face her. She wore a simple gown of sapphire blue that flattered her immensely and showed off her figure from the waist up in such a way that warmed his blood.
He couldn’t lose her now. Not now. And he wouldn’t. Not while there was a breath left in his body. Whatever she had to say, she’d have to hear him out first.
But he could scarcely
manage to say, “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” She motioned for him to sit and, amazingly, sat close enough for him to catch her scent each time she moved. “I’ve been thinking about our situation.”
“As have I,” he assured her.
“I’ve thought a lot about our marriage, about the twins, about this new child. . . ”
“Before you say anything,” he interrupted, “let me speak, please. You have every right to be angry with me. Every right to turn me away for good. But I realize now that if there’s any chance at all for us, it will be through the truth.”
She lifted those incredible brown eyes to his. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “I love you, Agatha. I’ve always loved you, but I love you more now than I ever did in the past. No matter how it might appear to you after you hear what I have to say, I need you to believe that.”
She nodded slowly. “All right.”
“The children love you, too. Remember that.”
She glanced at her fingers and took a deep breath. “I love them, too.”
“Yes, I know. That’s what makes this so damned difficult to say.”
Agatha lifted her gaze again and tilted her head to one side in that endearing way she had of late. “What is it you’re trying to tell me, Zacharias?”
“I’m trying to tell you why our marriage broke up.”
She looked for a moment as if she might stop him, then bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly. “All right.”
“You don’t remember, of course, but I was in love with you before our marriage. We knew each other only slightly before the war. You were too young to catch my notice. But from the moment I came home from the war and saw you, I knew you were the only woman I’d ever love. You embodied everything I’d been fighting for. Charm, grace, and beauty.”
To his surprise, tears glimmered in her eyes. “I think that’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Her words touched him, and he smiled for the first time since he’d made his decision to come clean. “We married quickly, and I suppose we both had expectations of the other that we soon realized the other couldn’t or wouldn’t live up to. I thought you would be as warm and charming in private as you seemed to be in public. And you thought I’d be equally gallant. Neither of us were. The marriage grew strained.”
“Because I didn’t welcome you in our marriage bed.”
“That’s what I told myself.” Too agitated to sit still, he shot to his feet and began to pace. “Or maybe the fault was mind because I wasn’t willing to give you time to grow accustomed to that side of our relationship.”
“Maybe we were both at fault.”
Zacharias turned to face her. She’d never expressed a sentiment like that before, and her willingness to take part of the blame soothed him. “Perhaps. But I take full responsibility for what happened next. In frustration, I turned to Patricia. My mother had long expected me to marry her, but I wasn’t interested once I found you. When things began to sour between us, I started wondering if my mother was right. And Patricia was only too willing to convince me she was.”
“And so you began your affair.” Again, there was no note of accusation. In fact, it seemed as if she was helping him with his confession.
“Yes. There was a time, before the war, when I thought I might marry Patricia. My mother certainly wanted me to, and she spent the entire war assuring her that I’d return and marry her. When I didn’t. . . ” He lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug.
Agatha stepped in to help again. “She turned to someone else.”
“Yes.” He mopped his face again and sent her a weak smile. “Her husband died shortly after their marriage, so she was lonely and more than willing to listen to me pour out my frustrations about our marriage. I didn’t turn to her intending to start an affair, but one thing led to another, and before I really knew what I was doing, there we were.”
This time, Agatha didn’t help. But neither did she look as if she’d like to kill him. He took heart in that.
“Of course, you began to suspect, and it hurt you deeply. Things between us became even more strained. Occasionally, even with the affair, you and I would. . . ” He broke off and searched for the right way to say what came next.
“Make love?”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Yes. But only occasionally. I needed an heir—or so I convinced myself. It seems I was a master at justifying my actions.”
“We all do that,” she said softly. “I’m sure I justified a few things, too.”
Another piece of apprehension fell away. “Perhaps. You conceived twice, and both times lost the child. Dr. Messing warned you about having another, and with that last enticement for continuing our relationship out of the way, our marriage fell completely apart. In hindsight, if I’d ended my relationship with Patricia and been a decent and loving husband to you, I think we could have patched things up between us. But your disappointment over not being able to have children was difficult for me to deal with. And I convinced myself that I had every right to do what I was doing.”
Again, that soft smile curved her lips, and again she surprised him. “Just I convinced myself I had every right to be cool and aloof.”
“After several months,” he said, Patricia informed me that she was with child. She was unhappy, to say the least. She was a widow with a reputation to protect.”
“Just as she is now.”
He nodded miserably. “She wanted to end the pregnancy, but that idea frightened me. She assured me that many woman took drastic measures like that, but I was afraid she’d die. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say that I was afraid she’d be successful and rid herself of my child.”
“It would have been a great risk,” Agatha agreed.
“I told myself it was my only chance to have children and came up with a plan that would not only protect Patricia’s reputation, but give me the heir I so desperately wanted. She left town and gave birth, not to one baby, but to two. I had them brought to me and, in my pomposity, presented them to you as a fait accompli.”
“I didn’t know about them before that?”
“No. I kept it from you, and no one else but one of Patricia’s maids knew.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Since you’d already withdrawn from society, I knew we could easily pass them off as our children. So I came to you, foolishly expecting you to welcome my bastard children into your home and raise them as your own.”
Agatha’s face changed suddenly, and she showed the first sign of anger. “Don’t call them that,” she warned. “Don’t ever call them that again. Mordechai and Andrew are not to blame for what happened. You, Patricia, and I are the guilty parties.”
He took a step backward, shocked to the core not by her defense of the children, but by her acceptance of part of the blame. “Those were your words,” he told her gently. “Not mine.”
Her anger faded as suddenly as it appeared. “Then I apologize.”
That shocked him nearly as much as her anger. Maybe even more. “As do I, Agatha. As do I.”
“It seems we both have much to apologize for.”
“Indeed, we do.” Suddenly exhausted, he sat in a wing chair and gripped the armrests. “You demanded that I leave and take the children with me. After much arguing, I managed to convince you not to reveal the truth about the children’s birth and in exchange, I left you with Summervale and promised never to darken your door again. We continued that way for a long time.”
“Five years.”
He nodded. “Until you lost your memory. When I realized what happened, I told myself I had every right to keep the truth from you. But I was wrong. My wounded pride made me behave like an ass.” He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. “For what it’s worth, I’m deeply sorry. I’ve brought unbelievable heartache upon you out of nothing nobler than selfishness.”
“Yes,” she said with a smile, “but it seems I’ve brought unbelievable hear
tache upon you out of self-righteousness.”
“And now, with history about to repeat itself, I can’t blame you for wanting to send me away again—”
Her smile widened even further. “No, Zacharias. I don’t want to do that.”
His heart lurched, his pulse raced. He couldn’t believe his ears. “You don’t?”
“No.” She reached across the space between them and put her hand over his. Her touch warmed him to the deepest part of himself. “I love you, Zacharias. And I love the children. If Patricia truly doesn’t want to be their mother—”
“She doesn’t want to be their mother,” he assured her, “although she would dearly love to be my wife.”
“So I hear.” Agatha’s squeezed his hand gently and held his gaze. “Unfortunately for her, you already have one of those.”
He turned his hand over and held hers tightly. “But what about this new child?”
She tilted her head and sent him a sly smile. “Are you certain there is a new child? Or does the timing strike you as a bit too convenient?”
Zacharias could only stare at her in stunned silence for what felt like forever. “It’s possible,” he managed at long last, “and I want to believe that more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But what if she’s telling the truth?”
“If she’s telling the truth, we’ll deal with it. If she’s not, I’ll bet you a million dollars she suffers a miscarriage after you tell her that we’re not divorcing.” At his hopeful smile, she went on. “We’ve let pride stand in our way far too long, Zacharias. I think it’s about time we put it aside and concentrated on what’s best for Mordechai and Andrew—and for us.”
He was quite certain his heart would leap out of his chest, but he couldn’t ignore one last obstacle to their future. “Can I be sure that you won’t change your mind when your memory returns?”
“As sure as I can be.” Her gaze flickered away. “But if that happens, Zacharias, please remember that as I am now, at this moment, I love you with all my heart.”
It was a strange way to put it, but he didn’t care. He crushed her to him and covered her mouth with his own. Fire raged inside him and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself to the kiss with more passion than he’d ever known.
