Comes the Night (Entangled Suspense)

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Comes the Night (Entangled Suspense) Page 9

by Cathy Marlowe


  “Now, Thomas, don’t be ridiculous, your French is absolutely flawless.” Desiree wrinkled her brow. “Anyway, I’m afraid we’ve been neglecting our guest. So, Maggie, tell us about yourself.”

  Lizzie glanced at Alistair, who merely raised an eyebrow.

  To hell with him. If he wanted to play a game of cat and mouse, she was ready to play. She smiled at Desiree, inviting her to begin.

  “Well, you are, pardon me for being indelicate, nursing my soon-to-be son. How does a woman choose this type of work? What in the world motivates a woman to…well…” Desiree’s voice trailed off as though she were too refined to describe the duties of a wet nurse.

  Lizzie kept her gaze steady. “Love. Love is what motivates me. And an overwhelming desire to keep that beautiful boy safe.”

  Stealing a quick glance at Zach, she thought he was moved by her words, but Desiree’s laugh was derisive.

  “Safe? Really, Ms. Smith, the boy is surrounded by security. I hardly think he needs you to keep him safe.”

  “There is much more to Ace’s safety that just his physical well-being, Desiree,” Zach interjected.

  “Of course, Thomas, I didn’t mean…”

  “Now, Desiree, there’s no need to apologize. Your point is perfectly valid.” Alistair assumed control of the conversation. “And Maggie, I must say, that self-satisfied look is a bit unbecoming for a woman who was unable to keep her own children safe.”

  She felt the color drain from her face. She hadn’t expected Alistair to blindside her about her children in front of everyone.

  “Yes, Maggie.” Alistair nodded sagely. “Why don’t you tell Thomas and Desiree how you lost your husband and your two children through your own poor judgment and lack of foresight.”

  She sat, speechless. Surely he didn’t intend for her to tell the truth. She glanced at Zach and found his eyes steady on her face.

  “Well, Maggie?” Alistair prodded. “And, of course, your judgment would never have been an issue if that man you married, that weakling Zach Weston, had protected his family. Instead, because of his negligence you lost them all in a terrible tragedy.”

  Her lips trembled as a powerful combination of hatred and fear threatened to burst forth with the truth. “How dare you?” Her voice quivered. “How dare you insult a man who—”

  “Maggie, Maggie. Now, you know I don’t mean to hurt your feelings”—his soothing voice raised the hairs at the back of her neck—“but I do tire of your foolish defense of that despicable man. He failed you. As a result you lost both your children.”

  Lizzie removed her napkin from her lap and threw it on the table.

  Not quite concealing her satisfaction, Desiree said, “Well, my goodness, this is certainly titillating dinner conversation, Alistair, but perhaps it is best saved for another time and place.” She gestured to Lizzie. “And perhaps you would be more comfortable finishing dinner in your room.”

  “There’s no need for you to leave.” Zach stood abruptly. “Why don’t I refresh everyone’s drinks?”

  “For heaven’s sake.” Desiree placed a well-groomed hand on his arm, her engagement ring sparkling in the chandelier’s light. “We have servants who can refill drinks.”

  “I’d rather do it myself.”

  Lizzie slipped her napkin back into her lap and waited, jaw clenched, for the next act in Alistair’s drama.

  …

  Thomas stepped to the sidebar. Intent on watching Maggie without appearing to, he hadn’t noticed at first when the discussion switched to French. Another in a series of attempts to shut her out. What had bothered him even more was that she didn’t seem to notice, lost in her own world of despair as she moved her food around her plate.

  He missed the vibrant woman who’d first stepped into the dining room, a determined set to her shoulders. A warrior prepared to do battle with the rich and conceited. So he waited until his father and Desiree were engrossed in yet another worthless topic and launched a small mushroom at her plate. When she’d pierced it with her fork and eaten it, oh man, it was the sexiest thing he’d seen in, well, memory.

  But now he was no longer worried or amused. He was confused. And angry. Everyone here was keeping secrets from him. It was bad enough that he’d followed Maggie to his father’s rooms, but now it was also clear that Alistair knew a great deal about her past—and her pain—and was apparently willing to use it against her.

  He’d seen the guilt on her face when his father accused her of failing to keep her children safe. Children! She’d lost not one, but two children?

  And where was this unreasonable jealousy coming from? He’d been sitting here, uncomfortable with his father’s attraction to Maggie, telling himself it was because Alistair was too old for her, that a dark undercurrent shadowed his treatment of her. But now he feared that his jealousy was rooted in something much more elemental, because from the moment she’d passionately defended him, he’d despised the man who failed her.

  Zach.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sipping his wine, Alistair leaned back in his chair and nodded to Lizzie. “Perhaps you’d like to tell us a bit about your children. How old were they when you lost them?”

  “Enough.” Zach ran his forefinger deliberately along the length of his dinner knife and looked at Lizzie. “You don’t need to share anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

  For a moment she allowed herself the fantasy that he would pick up the knife and hurl it right through his father’s immoral, contemptible heart.

  She bit the inside of her lip, frowning as she glanced from Zach to Alistair. The challenge in the latter’s eyes was clear—tell Thomas anything you want, he won’t remember.

  Well, they’d see about that. He might not remember now, but one day, one day it would all come together for him. It had to.

  “No, I don’t mind at all.” She looked directly at Zach. “When I lost my children, Sam, my little girl, was a little over three years old and Daniel was just an infant.” She waited, silently daring Alistair to comment.

  “Sam? Is that short for Samantha?”

  The compassion in Zach’s eyes brought tears to her own. She blinked them away. This was not a time to show weakness. “Actually her name is Sarah Ann Marko Weston. She has two middle names.”

  Lizzie paused for a moment. How he had teased her about giving their baby girl four names, insisting the other kids only had to learn to spell three names. “Her daddy made the mistake of showing her that her initials spelled Sam, and she’s been Sam ever since.”

  Her lips curved at the memory of his surprise that she would prefer Sam to Sarah and his confession that he’d learned a lesson about the importance of a well-timed retreat when the ladies of the household set their minds to something.

  Zach’s softly spoken question drew her back to the present. “Was Daniel older than Ace?”

  “No.” She hesitated, suddenly uncertain if she could continue this game. “They are the same age. Daniel was born prematurely, but he was a fighter from the moment he was born.”

  She watched him closely, praying that some small detail might hold meaning for him.

  “Maggie.” He raised his hand as though he might reach for her, instead running his hand along his jaw. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  “It’s okay. They…were both very brave children…happy, smart…”

  Desiree rang the bell that sat near her right hand. When a server appeared, she instructed him to bring the next course and turned to Maggie. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your sad story. Your children’s short little lives were certainly filled with tragedy.”

  “Desiree…” The warning note was back in Zach’s voice.

  “Yes, of course.” She patted his arm as she smiled brightly at Lizzie. “Tell us about the children’s father, Mack.”

  Mindy and Mack? Was this bimbo really the best imposter Alistair could find? Well, that was just fine. She didn’t mind repeating the name. “Zach. His name is Zach. Za
ch Weston.” She hesitated, not wanting to push too far and put Sam at risk, but Alistair nodded for her to continue.

  “Weston, did you say?” A look of innocent confusion crossed Desiree’s face. “But your name is Smith…” She looked scandalized. “Was he already married to someone else?”

  Perhaps she’d underestimated Desiree. “No, he wasn’t married to someone else. He…he…” She sputtered to a stop, so mad that she couldn’t think of a lie to explain the names.

  Alistair cleared his throat. “Now, Desiree. Maggie is a modern sort of woman. She kept her own name.” He managed to imbue a large portion of aristocratic censure in that simple statement. He looked at her, his enjoyment obvious. “Well, Maggie, by all means, tell us about Zach.”

  Although she didn’t understand this unexpected freedom, she welcomed the opportunity. “He was a wonderful father and husband.” Forcing herself not to stumble when speaking of him in the past tense, she continued. “Loyal, patient, compassionate, brave…sexy as hell.” A slight smile played on her lips as she became lost in memories that now belonged only to her.

  Desiree’s strangely subdued voice drew her back to reality. “You must have loved him very much.”

  “I do love him very much.” It was more than a statement of fact. It was a vow. Silence settled in the room.

  Alistair snorted, ending the emotionally charged moment. “Please, I insist you cease to think of that imbecile as some paragon of manhood.” His voice rose in annoyance as he slammed his fist down on the table.

  “Unfortunately for you, Alistair, you don’t control my thoughts or feelings.” Her heart pounded. She couldn’t control the hatred that fueled the disrespectful words hurtling from her mouth.

  As fury flared in Alistair’s eyes, she knew she’d gone too far. Looking to Zach for reassurance, she saw that his mask of indifference was securely in place. Except for his eyes. They were angry. And that anger seemed directed at her.

  It was all too much.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I—I need to check on Ace.” She rose from her chair, unable to control the slight trembling of her words.

  “Maggie.” A note of warning rang in Alistair’s voice. “You’ve not been dismissed.”

  Zach interjected. “Go. It’s almost time for his bedtime feeding.”

  Alistair burst to his feet, upsetting his wineglass in the process. “You are not in charge of this household, Thomas!” The vein in his temple pounded as his voice shook with anger. “This is my home and I make the rules. You’d best remember that.” He slammed his hand against the table, pausing before he spoke again. “And you…” He bit out the words and pointed at Lizzie, his voice now chillingly controlled.

  “Alistair.” Desiree wrinkled her nose. “Please, not at the dinner table.” Smiling at the two men, she ignored Lizzie completely. “Would either of you care for dessert?”

  Dismissed, Lizzie rushed from the room.

  …

  Jaw clenched, Thomas declined dessert and excused himself. He strode from the dining room, breaking into a silent run as the door closed behind him. He caught Maggie at the second turn in the hall, grabbed her arm and spun her around.

  His touch gentled when he saw the tears streaming down her face. With a glance to either side to ensure they were alone, he pressed her lightly up against the wall and placed his hands on either side of her head, trapping her with his body before she could flee.

  “What the hell is going on?” He leaned forward until he almost touched her, then fought the unexpected urge to rest his forehead against hers. He took a deep breath, fearing that he’d frighten her as frustration and concern rolled off him in waves. “Talk to me.”

  “I—I can’t.” Her eyes frantically swept the hall.

  “Look at me,” he whispered harshly. “Tell me.” She finally looked into his eyes, searching, and he felt again that she somehow found him lacking. She moaned low in her throat and in spite of the tense situation, he was aroused. What the hell kind of animal was he?

  She pushed hard against his chest. “I have to get back to Daniel.”

  “Daniel?” Desire forgotten, he removed his hands from the wall. “Daniel? Don’t you mean Ace?” He ran his hand roughly through his hair, looking away as he attempted to control his emotions. “Have you…” He swallowed and looked back at her. “Have you been pretending my son is your own?”

  When she failed to answer, he grabbed her arms in a desperate attempt to understand. “Answer me.”

  “Thomas! Take your hands off of her.” Alistair’s voice rang out.

  Maggie’s head flew up, fear in her eyes.

  “Maggie and I are having a private conversation. This doesn’t involve you.” He bit out each word. Damn Alistair for interrupting.

  Taking a step back from them both, Maggie shook her head. “I need to feed Ace.”

  “I thought the nurse instructed you to begin introducing the new formula at some feedings. His father can feed him, my dear. After all, he prefers to be so hands-on in the care of the boy.” Alistair stared at his son. “You did give her the evening off to come to dinner, did you not?”

  Apparently requiring no response, he returned his attention to her. “Maggie, sweetheart, I’m so sorry to have upset you. It’s just that your inexplicable obsession with that man wears on me. Now as dinner ended on that unfortunate note, it appears I have time for our little rendezvous after all.” His soothing voice belied by the ice in his gaze, Alistair ran the backs of his fingers down her face, claiming her. “My dear, would you care to join me for a bit?”

  She nodded. Placing his hand at the small of her back, Alistair turned her in the direction of his suite. “Good evening, Thomas.” He favored his son with a challenging smile as they started down the hall.

  Thomas watched him escort Maggie down the corridor, hand riding too low on the curve of her waist. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until they rounded the corner and disappeared. He didn’t want to let her go, yet she was a grown woman…and she had gone willingly.

  Did she really? He would have sworn he saw reluctance and anger vibrate in each step she took.

  Oh man, he was confused! He couldn’t forget the wild look in her eyes as she called his son Daniel. Daniel. All of this time while she was caring for his son, was she delusional? Living in a confused world of her own making?

  He’d checked her medical history and insisted on a blood test, but really he knew nothing about her. No, he’d been so taken in by her loving care of Ace, he’d failed to ask the hard questions, had taken his father’s word for it that she came highly recommended.

  Now, despite his doubts about her state of mind, it was time he admitted he truth. Maggie, with her unbecoming hair and frustrating secrecy, appealed to him, captivated him in ways Desiree did not.

  He slammed his palm against the wall. How the hell was he supposed to make sense of this mess when his feelings for Maggie warred with his number one priority, the safety of his son? If there was a chance she was a danger, he had to put Ace first, and yet…he was finding it impossible to ignore the attraction.

  What was he supposed to do? Appearances clearly suggested that he had an unstable woman caring for his son. But his instincts told him to grab her and Ace and run.

  Chapter Sixteen

  By the time Alistair ushered her into his suite, Lizzie’s anger threatened to explode.

  She jerked away the moment the doors closed. “Keep your hands off me.”

  Raising his hand to stroke his goatee, he glared. “I grow weary of your belligerent attitude. Tonight I tried to help you see that Thomas has no memory of you and your life together, and yet you persist in imagining some grand reunion for the two of you.” He walked to his desk and poured himself a glass of scotch. “I’m not only concerned about you, my dear. It’s dear Sam I worry about.” He took a drink and set the glass back on the desk with a thud. “Sam. Such a deplorable nickname for a beautiful young girl.” He returned and grasped her arms. “The m
an never even told you the truth about his past.”

  She remained silent, hands clenched.

  “Thomas has never been as committed to you as you are to him.” He rubbed his hands up along her shoulders. “Dear Lizzie, I understand you don’t want to believe that Zach would lie to you so blatantly. After all, he knew how important the truth was to you—especially after Grant deceived you, abandoning you and dear Sam.”

  Her heart pounded as he shook his head sadly. She fought the urge to smack the false compassion off his face. Yet the truth stared at her every time she looked at him. He had her husband’s jaw and coloring, and more significantly, his beautiful eyes. Eyes that seemed out of place in the face of a monster.

  She reminded herself that he was a master at manipulating the truth. Yes, Grant had left them, but he’d come back months later determined to make things right. And despite her choosing Zach without hesitation, Grant had stayed. Now Sam had two dads who loved her. Alistair’s view of the world was wrong.

  He raised his brow in a movement that reminded her so much of Zach, she broke. “You don’t know anything.” Her voice rose as she spun away from him. “You stupid, delusional old man. You don’t know anything.” She slapped her hands over her mouth.

  When Alistair remained silent, she slowly turned around. He raised his glass in a silent toast and tossed back the contents. She bit her lip as he advanced with measured steps.

  “You…” His soft voice sent chills down her spine. She forced herself not to retreat.

  “You—” A smile spread across his face and he laughed. “You are truly delightful. I don’t know anything? I?” He pulled a strand of her hair loose and wrapped it around his finger, tugging her face toward his. “Nothing except where your precious daughter is. Nothing except the truth about Thomas’s past.” His voice rose. “Nothing except what will happen to Sam if you defy me.”

  He released the hair and patted her cheek. “My dear, I am the only one who knows everything.” He spread his arms wide. “Now tonight, Thomas was drawn to you. Quite possibly it was that very appealing dress you’re wearing.”

 

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