As they wandered back toward the celebration, hand in hand, Felicity allowed herself a moment of pure bliss unmarred by the worry that had continued to plague her for the past weeks. Although the preparations for Blanche's wedding had taken up most of her time, she still found herself counting the days and the weeks and the months.
The fatigue she had suffered no longer bothered her. In fact, she now felt better than she had in months. Even Blanche had commented on how well she looked when she had arrived to help dress the bride this morning. And Joshua had commented just last night that she seemed to be gaining weight… in all the right places.
Had his gray eyes been clouded with an unasked question? Did he share her suspicions, her fears? And if he did, why hadn't he said something to her? Probably for the same reason she had said nothing to him either. They were afraid. They were both afraid of even asking that question, as if to voice it might make it true.
But it couldn't be true, she reminded herself. She and Joshua had been so careful, following Dr. Strong's instructions to the letter.
"What are you thinking about?" Joshua asked, interrupting her thoughts. His handsome face reflected the concern in his voice.
Did her fear show? Could he sense it? She forced a smile to her lips. "I was just thinking about the heat," she lied.
"What do you hear from Philadelphia?" Asa asked Felicity one Sunday afternoon six weeks later. He and Blanche had just returned from their honeymoon and had come to tell the Logans all about their trip. The newlyweds exuded the unmistakable aura of two people who had discovered complete happiness at last.
Had she and Joshua once looked like that? Of course they had, she reminded herself, and not so very long ago, either. But in the weeks since Blanche's wedding, their relationship had grown gradually more strained as the weight of Felicity's secret seemed to crush her heart. She found herself short-tempered with Joshua as her fears threatened to overwhelm her.
Felicity felt like wincing when she saw the private, bedroom smiles that Asa and Blanche shared, smiles that no longer passed between her and Joshua. Now he rarely smiled at her at all. His gray eyes simply watched her in silent accusation.
"Felicity?" Josh prompted, frowning. "Asa asked you a question."
"What?" she said, momentarily flustered.
Asa smiled apologetically. They were all seated in the cool dimness of the parlor, which was shuttered against the late August heat. "I asked if you had heard from your grandfather lately."
"Oh yes," she hastily replied. "He writes to me quite often."
"He wants to be sure she knows how much attention her photographs are getting at the Exposition," Josh said, and Felicity thought she heard an accusation in his voice, too.
"It's only because I'm a woman," she explained, as much to Joshua as to Blanche and Asa. "There are thousands of photographs on display that are much better than mine, I'm sure."
"Don't be so modest, Felicity," Blanche chided. "You're a very talented photographer. Those pictures you took at our wedding are wonderful!"
"Her grandfather thinks she should return to Philadelphia and set up a studio," Joshua reported grimly. "People are clamoring to have their portraits made by her."
Asa and Blanche exchanged a look, silently informing each other that they now understood the reason for the tension they both sensed between their two friends. Josh must be disturbed over this invitation. Probably they had even argued over it.
Josh saw the look and decided it was just as well they thought that. He didn't want them to know the real reason he was so troubled. He didn't even want to know that reason himself.
Alarmed by all the undercurrents swarming in the room, Felicity rose abruptly. "Would you care for something cool to drink?" she asked.
"I'll help you," Blanche offered, rising also and following Felicity from the room.
Josh watched them go, studying Felicity's slender figure, a figure that was not as slender as it had been just a few weeks earlier. He knew she was pregnant, and the knowledge chilled his soul even as the twin maggots of guilt and fear ate away at him.
But what disturbed him even more was the fact that she hadn't told him. How long was she going to wait? Did she think he was bund? Or stupid? She hadn't bled once in the three months since she had been back. Soon even total strangers would be able to tell her condition just by looking at her. And he had given her plenty of opportunities, commenting on the changes in her figure, inquiring about her health. But she had ignored them all and kept her secret.
Why? The question was like a canker in his heart, because he could think of only one answer. There was something suspicious about the pregnancy. He had tried not to believe it, tried to deny even the possibility, but the evidence was too real to ignore. She must have conceived the child in Philadelphia for her to be so far along. That much was certain. He also knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that something had happened between Felicity and Richard, something she did not want to discuss or even think about.
At first her letters had been full of Richard this and Richard that. Then her letters had stopped entirely. Since she had come home, she hardly even spoke her cousin's name, and when Josh brought him up, she changed the subject, unable to hide her distress over discussing him.
Could the son of a bitch have raped her? Josh found that difficult to believe. Richard was not a man to resort to force. No, more likely he would have used seduction. The thought infuriated Josh beyond all reason, especially when he realized how he had paved the way for such an act by not writing to his wife while they were separated. Had she been seduced? Was that why she was ashamed? Was that why she hid her pregnancy, because the fatherhood was in doubt?
"Josh? Is something wrong?" Asa asked.
Josh jerked his attention back to the present, surprised to find that his hands were clenched into fists, fists that ached to choke the life out of Richard Winthrop. "No, of course not," Josh replied, forcing his body to relax. "What were you saying?"
"I was just asking if you'd heard anything more about that Mexican, Ortega?"
"No, no, I haven't," Josh replied, glad for a subject to take his mind off Felicity. "The last word was that he'd gone back to Mexico."
Out in the kitchen, Felicity gave Blanche a cup of lemonade to taste. "Is that sweet enough?"
Blanche tasted the golden liquid and nodded. "Just fine," she said with a beatific smile.
Felicity considered that smile, having noticed it earlier. In fact, Blanche had been grinning like a cat with its head in the cream pitcher since the moment she had arrived. "Married life certainly agrees with you," Felicity remarked with an understanding smile.
"Asa agrees with me," Blanche corrected. "Oh, we fight now and again. I guess we always will, but that just makes the good times better."
Felicity murmured her agreement, trying to recall the last time she and Joshua had argued. Not for weeks, she realized. Lately they tippy-toed around each other as if afraid of causing offense. No, she mentally corrected, as if one harsh word might explode the tension that quivered between them. Felicity was terrified to discover what damage such an explosion would cause.
"Felicity," Blanche said, interrupting these disturbing thoughts. "There's something… Oh, I know it's early days yet and I probably shouldn't say anything at all, but I think… I might be in a family way."
"Oh, Blanche!" Felicity cried, flinging her arms around her friend and fighting back the tears that threatened. Joy for Blanche and the pain of her own personal agony warred for predominance. She concentrated on Blanche. "You can't be very far along," Felicity judged when she and Blanche parted.
Blanche shook her head. "I've missed one month and I'm late on the second."
"But you've only been married for six weeks," Felicity reminded her with a teasing smile.
Blanche shrugged her indifference. "We got an early start."
"Oh, Blanche! What a scandal you'll cause," Felicity chided happily.
"I know," Blanche replied with a twinkle. "I
sn't it delicious? And at my age, too!" But her smile suddenly faded. "I was afraid maybe I was too old at all: I'm almost thirty, you know."
"And how does Asa feel about having a little 'proof of affection'?" Felicity asked, using a popular euphemism.
"Well," Blanche admitted, "we haven't actually talked about it, although I think he suspects. A few days ago he asked me if I had already gone through the change. I guess he finally noticed that nothing had happened. When I assured him that I hadn't, he gave me a funny look, but he didn't ask any other questions. I'm just as glad he didn't. Maybe I'm superstitious, but I'm afraid to talk about it yet. Does that make any sense?"
"Oh yes, it does," Felicity replied, understanding only too well.
That night, as Felicity lay beside Joshua in the dark, she felt the familiar flutter of life within her womb. Instinctively her hand went to cover it, to cherish it. She had come to terms with her condition weeks ago. Why, then, did she still refuse to speak of it to Joshua? Perhaps because she was just as superstitious as Blanche. To speak of something so dangerous yet so desired was to invite the demons of destruction to do their work. To acknowledge her secret to Joshua would mean that she would have to face her fears and discuss them. How could she bear it if this child died, too? And she would have to consider the possibility of her own death and the effect it would have on Joshua. And how would he react? She had made him a promise, and she had broken that promise. Would he be angry? Would he hate her?
But he would be afraid, too, afraid of losing her. She was already so frightened herself that she wasn't certain she could deal with his fear, too. If they were both afraid, who would be strong? She did not have an answer, and she had asked the question so many times, she was no longer certain there even was one.
And she was a fool to think that her condition was a secret. Joshua knew; he must know. How many times had he asked her leading questions, that silent accusation darkening his eyes? But still she had not been able to speak of it. She was certain that to speak aloud the truth that they both knew was to invite disaster. To admit the existence of their child meant they would then have to plan for an event that terrified her. The very thought made her tremble.
But time was running out. Soon others would notice her pregnancy and comment on it. She was surprised Blanche hadn't mentioned it today. Luckily, her friend had been too concerned with her own joy to notice anything else.
Felicity turned her head on the pillow, listening to Joshua's breathing. He was not asleep. She could tell him right now. She should tell him right now. She opened her mouth, but no words came.
Josh lay in the darkness, listening to her tiny movements. Why didn't she speak? Why didn't she tell him? She must know that he already knew. Was she afraid he would count on his fingers and figure out that he was not the father?
And was that why she had come home, why she had been so eager to be the perfect wife and lover, so she could pass Winthrop's bastard off as his child? Why then had she brought the sheaths if she was already pregnant? Because, the cold voice of reason replied, she knew you would never make love to her unless you thought she was safe. Now she can claim a failure in Dr. Strong's devices.
As furious as such thoughts made him, as agonizing as the thought of Felicity with Winthrop was, Josh nursed yet another, even more horrible thought. Some small part of him wanted the child to be Winthrop's bastard because he knew that if the child was his, Felicity might die. Her death was a burden he did not know if he could bear.
Never to see her, never to hold her again. How would he live? In his pain, he reached for her, drawing her close in an almost desperate embrace. His mouth found hers, and her eager response stirred other, equally desperate emotions.
Swiftly, he removed her nightdress. Their bodies were already damp from the sultry August night, and his hands glided over the moist satin of her skin, tracing the swells and valleys of her body. His own need was fierce, born not of passion but of the desire to reassert his claim-on her body and her love.
Felicity welcomed his ferocity, needing to feel his strength, hoping that it would renew her own. She clung to him feverishly, meeting him kiss for kiss, until her blood roared in her ears.
Then, suddenly, he pulled away. "I'll be right back," he said, using the phrase that told her he was going to reach into the drawer of the bedside table.
"No, don't," she said, unwilling to let him go, unwilling to let the charade go on a moment longer. She felt his body grow tense.
"What?" he asked hoarsely.
"I said, don't go. You don't need those things," Felicity said, her own voice hoarse, and quivery with the strain of confession.
At last, Josh thought, relief and dread flooding through him. "Why not?"
"I… because… you know why not!" she cried in frustration, angry that he would make her say the words when he must know as well as she did.
"Yes, I know," he said, slumping wearily back against the pillows, the heat of his passion rapidly cooling. "There's no use closing the barn door after the horse is gone."
Stung by the bitterness in his voice, Felicity drew away from him, wishing she could see his expression. He didn't sound angry, but she feared this cold cynicism even more.
"Why did you finally decide to tell me?" he asked tonelessly. "Did Blanche figure it out today? Were you afraid other people would start to notice, too?"
"No! She didn't… That isn't why!" Felicity insisted.
"Then why?"
Felicity shivered in spite of the torpid heat of the room. "I was afraid to tell you…" she began, wondering how she could make him understand.
"Afraid?" Josh pounced on the word, a confirmation of his worst nightmares. "Why were you afraid?" he demanded, sitting up so that he loomed over her in the darkness. "Were you afraid that I'd figure out I wasn't the father?"
"What!" Felicity cried in horror. She couldn't have heard him right. This couldn't be happening. She must be having a nightmare.
"I hope you made Winthrop work for it," Josh said, his hate and bitterness pouring out in a flood he was unable to stop. "A man appreciates a woman a lot more if she keeps him guessing a while."
Felicity made an anguished sound as his words hit her with the force of a body blow. "You can't think…" she whispered.
"What else am I supposed to think? You show up on my doorstep out of a clear blue sky, all ready to forgive and forget all my past 'sins.' Then I realize you're pregnant, except you don't say a word to me about it, even when I practically beg you to. Is that why you came back? So you wouldn't have a baby ten months after your husband left you?"
"NO!" she screamed as sobs wracked her body. As much as she had feared his reaction, she had never expected. anything so ugly as these absurd accusations. She hugged herself against the agony.
Hearing her sobs, Josh cursed, turning away from her and fumbling to light the lamp. He had to see her. He told himself that by seeing her, he would be able to see the truth.
Felicity started at the flare of the match, glancing up to see Josh's powerful body outlined in the golden glow of the flame. Through the haze of her tears, she saw him turn and rake her nakedness with a merciless stare. Defensively, she snatched up the sheet that lay tangled at the foot of the bed and covered herself.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" he asked, contemptuous of her effort to hide herself. "I know your body as well as I know my own. I knew right away, as soon as you came back, that something was different, but I wouldn't let myself believe it, not at first. And then you wouldn't mention Winthrop's name. Every time I did, you turned white, and pretty soon, I figured it out."
"You can't believe that, Joshua!" Felicity sobbed, struggling to a sitting position. "You can't believe that I'd be unfaithful to you!"
The question was like a knife in his heart, and in self-defense, he lashed out at her. "What else am I supposed to think? What else could have happened between you and Winthrop to upset you so much?"
"He…" Felicity began, scrubbing the tears
from her face and choking back her sobs. She had to make him believe her. "He kissed me and… he asked me to marry him."
Joshua's face twisted in rage. "Marry you? I hope you reminded him that you're already married!"
"Of course I did!" Felicity replied, equally angry. "And that's when I decided I had to come home."
"When you realized you were pregnant," he accused.
"No! I didn't know it then!"
"Are you trying to pretend you got pregnant after you came home?" he challenged. "That's a little hard to believe when I've been so careful…"
"You weren't careful that last night in Philadelphia!" she cried, twisting the knife in his heart.
The agony of the truth made him shudder. That was it, the thing he feared most, even more than the thought that she had betrayed him. He could forgive such a betrayal far more easily than he could forgive himself for placing her in so much danger.
"Oh, Lissy, I'm so sorry " he said, his voice an agonized whisper as he drew her into his arms. He held her rigid body against his chest, soothing her with his hands, and murmuring his broken explanations into the soft cloud of her golden hair. "I never really thought… about Winthrop… Please forgive me… I just couldn't… I know you'd never… I'm sorry…"
But she didn't believe him. The pain of his accusations still throbbed in her heart. How could he have said those things if he didn't think they were true? And how could he have said those things to her at all if he really loved her?
Gently, he lowered her back against the pillows, tenderly kissing away her tears. His hands continued to soothe her, stroking aside the sheet to caress her, and soon he was making love to her. He was infinitely patient and careful, worshiping her body with his own, but she could not respond. Her heart was frozen in her chest, freezing all her emotions. In spite of his persistent urgings, she lay unmoving beneath him. Afterward, he held her, pulling her close with a strangled moan that told her he knew the harm he had caused.
But he did not speak of it. To speak of it was to admit the depth of their pain, so neither of them spoke of it, not that night, nor the next day nor the next. Felicity had feared childbirth, had feared the death of her baby, had feared Joshua's anger and his fear, but nothing had prepared her for this cold emptiness that now pervaded her life.
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