by Jenny Lykins
“Sh...oot!”
“There you are!” Molly approached them by playfully hopping from one large rock to another. “I was beginning to fear you’d both drowned! What in heaven’s name have you been doing?”
*******
Alec sat behind his desk in the library, toying with the rainbow-shaped letter opener, trying his best to break the spell Shaelyn Sumner…Shaelyn Hawthorne held on him.
The first woman, the only woman he’d ever loved would arrive from Boston within the month. The annulment, according to Lawrence Sheffield, his attorney, would be granted before Faith’s arrival. Surely the ring would slip from Shaelyn’s finger by then. If not, he’d decided to have a jeweler cut the piece from her hand. It could be easily done, with no danger of injury to Shaelyn, and then the ring could be repaired. Had the jewelry been given to him instead of to his mother, he’d have gladly told Shaelyn to keep it, in some small recompense for what he’d put her through.
But though he impatiently anticipated Faith’s arrival, anticipated marriage to the beautiful, precious angel of a woman, in spite of his desire to defy his father, every time he spent more than a fleeting moment with Shaelyn, he found himself plotting ways to kiss her; dreaming about more than kissing her. Damn it to hell, he felt like a mischievous schoolboy torn between the forbidden fruit and the righteous path. Why, just that afternoon he’d been determined to get some answers from her. But before he had asked even a fraction of his questions, he’d had the devil’s own time keeping his gaze from wandering to her lips, remembering the taste of her kiss after their ill-fated wedding ceremony. Reveling in the jolt of pure, unadulterated lust that had slammed through his body when he’d stepped around the boulder and seen the expanse of shapely thighs and calves, the open bodice framing a feminine collarbone and shadowed hint of cleavage.
Hell, even her tirade in that odd speech of hers hadn’t cooled his want to feel her lips on his. But she was a mistake of Fate, and he owed her her freedom without taking advantage of her first.
He planted both elbows on the desk and plowed his fingers through his hair. Once she was gone, his life would return to normal. The annulment should be granted within a matter of days, and then -
“Ahem.”
He released two fistfuls of hair and raised his head. Martin stood just inside the door, stiff and formal as usual, but clearly uncomfortable.
“What is it, Martin?”
The man hesitated for a moment, then closed the door with a deliberate click before turning back to Alec.
“A…situation…has arisen, sir, which needs your immediate attention.”
Excellent! A diversion was just what he needed to get his mind off his wife.
“And what would that be?”
Martin hesitantly stepped forward, his gaze studiously directed toward the ceiling.
Alec had never seen his unflappable butler lose his composure. What on earth could have the man so uncomfortable?
“What is it, Martin?” he prodded.
“You see, sir, there has been talk, ever since your father…that is to say…well, I have done my best to quell the gossip, but…”
“Martin,” Alec interrupted, “what has you so concerned?”
The butler’s face bloomed to a rosy pink as he visibly stiffened his spine and squared his shoulders. He stared straight into Alec’s eyes.
“It is your annulment, sir. It appears Margaret has stated that the marriage was consummated, and unfortunately Ned’s wife heard the declaration, and in her usual manner - ”
“My marriage was what?”
“Consummated, sir.”
“I heard you the first time! Where would Margaret get such a notion? Why would she tell such a blatant lie?”
Martin’s gaze wandered back to the ceiling.
“She has said, sir, that the sheets…” the pink in his cheeks bloomed to scarlet, “…were stained, sir.”
“St…” Alec couldn’t find his voice. Couldn’t even think.
“Ned’s wife does cleaning for your solicitor, sir. And the woman hasn’t an ounce of wit. She prattled the allegation to Mr. Sheffield, and he queried her to some extent, him being a minister as well as solicitor.”
Alec fell back into his chair, speechless.
“Sir?”
He groaned. “Saint’s blood, Martin. There’s more?”
“Mr. Sheffield is on his way here to speak with you. Ned’s wife ran straight here and told Ned, who came to me, begging me to warn you. If there is anything I might do…”
Alec resisted the urge to pound his head against the desk.
“You can send in Lawrence Sheffield when he arrives. Then find Margaret and…my wife, and send them in as well.”
When Martin left, Alec stared at the closed door. What had possessed Margaret to fabricate such a story? Up until now she’d been a faithful, reliable servant, if a bit on the frivolous side.
A despicable thought occurred to him. What if Shaelyn had made it appear as if they’d… But she’d wanted the annulment as much as he. Had that been an act?
A knock preceded Martin’s re-entry into the room, followed by the attorney.
“Sheffield, come in.” Alec rose and gestured toward a chair. “I understand there is a question we need to clear up. Martin, have you sent for Shaelyn and the maid?”
Martin nodded. “Yes, sir. They should be here presently. Shall I bring tea?”
“Yes, unless you’d prefer something stronger, Lawrence?” Personally, Alec wouldn’t have minded a stiff shot of whiskey, but the jolly, round-faced attorney shook his head.
“Tea is fine, son. The wife frowns on any imbibing, and the woman has a nose like a bloodhound.” The leather squeaked and the chair groaned when Lawrence settled himself comfortably. “Never saw anything wrong with a medicinal snort now and then, but Lori maintains temperance in the household. And I’ll admit, she wears the pants in the family. I am afraid of the woman.”
Alec grinned despite himself and shook his head. Sheffield was unlike anyone he’d ever met. An Episcopal minister, he’d taken up law as well, running a scrupulous practice. He would charge around the courtroom like an a huge, angry bear, argue a legal point until every head in the room swam, yet he bowed to the slightest whim of a wife who stood barely five feet tall and wouldn’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet.
“How is Lori? We missed you at the masquerade ball.”
“Tyrannical as ever. The oldest daughter had her baby that night. A girl. Couldn’t miss it. That makes six grandchildren now.”
“Congratulations, then.” Alec couldn’t help but wonder if his own father had been present for any of his children’s births, let alone if he would bother to attend the birth of a grandchild, no matter how much he harped for one.
Shaelyn rounded the doorway just then, her head lowered as she shook out her skirts.
“Yes, master. You sent for me?” She raised her head just before bumping into Sheffield’s chair. “Well, crap. Oh!” She cringed a little, but smiled and held out her hand to Lawrence, who had risen with a smile of his own. “Sorry. Didn’t see you there.”
“I am easy to miss,” the bear of a man said as he took Shaelyn’s ink-smudged fingers. Their hands waggled for a moment, then she let out a nervous giggle when he managed to bow over her knuckles.
“Well.” She cleared her throat, then retrieved her hand and fiddled with a button at her neck.
“Shaelyn, may I present my attorney, Lawrence Sheffield. Lawrence, my…wife, Shaelyn Sumner…Hawthorne.”
“Is this about the annulment?”
Alec gestured for her to sit while he composed what he would say.
“Yes, there seems to be - ”
A knock on the doorframe drew everyone’s attention. Margaret hesitated outside the door, looking as if she were on her way to the gallows.
“Margaret, come in.” Alec waved her in, and Lawrence moved to stand behind the desk. “Please sit. We need to ask you some questions.”
While it was clear that she already knew the reason for her presence, Shaelyn obviously did not.
“Alec, is there a problem with the annulment? And what does Margaret have to do with it?”
“That’s what I am attempting to find out.” He coughed, then took a deep breath. “Now, Margaret, Ned’s wife has babbled to Mr. Sheffield that you claim the marriage was...uhh…was consummated.”
Shaelyn gasped as Margaret’s cheeks mottled with deep patches of crimson. He hadn’t realized how embarrassing this conversation would be. The maid squirmed in the leather chair and looked as if she might burst into tears at any moment.
“Oh, sir, I wasn’t gossiping. At least I didn’t mean to gossip. It’s just that after Mr. William threat...spoke to us all, well, later in the laundry room I mentioned to Mrs. Smithers - she’s the new laundress, sir - that I didn’t see how a body could annul a marriage that had been...well...that the deed had been done. And being new, Mrs. Smithers didn’t know better than to say anything in front of Ned’s wife, and - ”
Alec jumped from his chair. “Where on earth...” He stopped and forced himself to calm down after Margaret cringed. “Where on earth did you get the notion that the marriage has been consummated?”
“Yeah!” Shaelyn challenged with a glare.
Margaret wadded her starched apron into a tight ball. “Because of the...” She stared at her lap, her cheeks flushing to an alarming shade of puce that clashed with her hair. “The stain on the sheets, sir.”
“What stain?” Alec bellowed. Lawrence put a calming hand on his shoulder and pressed him back into his seat.
The glare left Shaelyn’s face and her hand came up to cover her mouth. Her shoulders dropped with a sigh of relief.
“Margaret, that stain was from one of the scratches I got when I jumped from the carriage after the wedding. It must have bled during the night.”
Alec went limp with relief too, until Lawrence rubbed at the back of his neck and took on his courtroom pose.
“You jumped from the carriage after your wedding? Why did you not wait until someone helped you down?”
Shaelyn slid a quick glance toward Alec, then looked at the ceiling.
“Because the carriage was moving.”
Lawrence tossed his own glance at Alec, then lowered his head and paced with hands clasped behind his back.
“The carriage was moving. You leapt from a moving carriage after your wedding.”
She could have told her side of the story and made Alec out to be the cad that he was, but instead she simply shrugged.
“Yes.” Finally she shot the maid and Sheffield a challenging stare. “The marriage wasn’t consummated. That’s all I need to tell you. Alec’s never come anywhere near my bed.”
A quickly muffled gasp swiveled everyone’s head toward Margaret. Lawrence spoke first.
“What is it now, dear?”
She twisted her apron and rocked back and forth in the chair, looking up at Alec in abject misery.
“Speak up, Margaret. I’ve nothing to hide.”
“Oh, sir. I saw you there. That first night. I brought the dinner you’d ordered for the missus. When I opened the door, you were there on the bed, half dressed, holding Mrs. Hawthorne, and she...” The apron suffered more abuse as her voice trailed off.
“Go ahead, dear,” Lawrence encouraged.
Alec closed his eyes and wanted to bang his head against the desk again.
“She was undressed, sir.”
“Well, I’d had a nightmare!” Shaelyn jumped from her chair and paced the floor. “Alec just came in to check on me. It was totally innocent!”
“Do you make a habit of sleeping without your nightclothes, Mrs. Hawthorne?” Lawrence asked gently.
Shaelyn spun around and stared at him with an arched brow.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
The attorney studied her face for a moment, then turned to Margaret.
“You may go, dear, unless Mr. Hawthorne has further questions.”
Alec shook his head and waved her toward the door. Margaret fled the room as if fleeing a burning building.
Shaelyn flopped back into the chair, her fingers worrying the ring against her knuckle.
“Mrs. Hawthorne, do you mind if I have a word in private with Alec?”
Her hands stopped fidgeting.
“Does this concern me?”
“Well, yes - ”
“Then, yes, I do mind! I’m not going to toddle off to the parlor and embroider a slipcover while you big strong men smoke cigars and sip brandy and decide things without me.” She leaned back into the chair with defiance.
Lawrence nodded slowly and looked at Alec.
Alec stared at Shaelyn and wondered how he could change so quickly from wanting to kiss her to wanting to choke her. At that particular moment, he was sorely tempted to do both.
“I suppose she is entitled to be here, Lawrence, after all - ”
“You suppose!” She jumped from the chair. “You suppose!” She leaned across the desk, her weight on her fists. “We’re talking about my life here, bubba! I’m entitled to be in on any discussions concerning me or this marriage. If there’s a problem with this annulment, let me assure you that this little woman isn’t going to have the vapors over it.”
Alec rose from his chair and towered over her, glaring her into silence, but she didn’t give an inch. She stared him down, their noses nearly touching.
“And furthermore…” she said, raising a finger.
“Don’t even think about poking me with that pointy little finger of yours,” he growled. “I’ll not be poked twice in the same day.”
She looked at her hovering finger, poised to strike, then looked back at him.
“I’ll poke you whenever I darn well feel like it.”
She hesitated only a moment. His hand whipped up to encircle her wrist before she could move more than a fraction of an inch toward her target. Her other hand came up. He grasped that wrist as well.
She glared at him, her moss-colored eyes sparking with green fire.
“Let go of my hands,” she demanded, her voice calm, civil, threatening.
“Make me,” he challenged with equal civility.
A wisp of silky mahogany caressed her cheek and curled down her neck. His fingers itched to push the tendril away, and the all-too-familiar urge swung from wanting to choke her to wanting to kiss her.
Her mouth twitched once as they locked stares, but she narrowed her eyes and readjusted her glare. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. When the second twitch came, he bit harder. Amusement, sudden, unexpected, replaced the anger in her eyes, then heated to something more than amusement. More than a truce.
The look seared Alec to the depths of his being. His gaze dropped to lips no longer set in a firm, defiant line. While he stared, those lips parted slightly and her sweet, ragged breath warmed his cheek. He moved closer, his head tilting to one side. She raised her face to his and her eyes drifted closed.
“Well, then.”
They jerked apart so violently, had there been another boulder behind his head, he surely would have suffered a concussion. How in the name of heaven had she made him so completely forget Sheffield’s presence?
Lawrence clapped his hands together and avoided looking at them. Instead, he sank into a chair and gave them time to find their own seats and collect themselves.
“This is a ticklish situation, Alec,” he finally said before the silence could grow even more embarrassing. “The annulment was to be granted because the marriage had not been consummated. But there seems to be a witness who insists she saw you together in a compromising position, then removed stained sheets from the bed the next morning.” He leaned back, and the chair groaned as if in agony. “Under those circumstances, it might be difficult to convince the court that a consummation did not take place. And seeing the two of you together...”
“Bloody hell, Sheffield! Nothing happened!”
“Mr. Sheffield, are you questioning our integrity?” Shaelyn finally spoke.
“Not at all, my dear. But when this comes before the court, we can do no less than answer truthfully.”
“Well, I assure you, if we say the marriage wasn’t consummated, we will be answering truthfully.”
Lawrence nodded. Alec daydreamed about inflicting medieval tortures upon Ned’s wife.
“Be that as it may, I fear the hope for a swift annulment has died. My suggestion is that I submit a petition for divorce - ”
“Divorce!” Alec jumped up and slammed his hand on the desk. “Absolutely not!”
“Alec, there are questions surrounding the validity for an annulment. I’ve no doubt your entire staff has heard the allegations by now. Even if they have not, there is Margaret, the laundress, and Ned’s wife who know. The burden of proof now lay with you. Now, if Mrs. Hawthorne would be willing to submit to an examination...”
His words trailed off. Understanding slowly dawned in Shaelyn’s eyes and her brows shot skyward. She leveled a glare at both men in turn.
“Not a snowball’s chance in...Hades.”
“It would simplify matters, Mrs. Hawthorne. We have several qualified physicians - ”
Shaelyn rose from her chair, her face stoic, her spine stiff.
“No examination. No way. You can go for the divorce or pursue the annulment, but either way, when this ring comes off, I’m outta here.”
“But you cannot - ”
“I can, and I will. End of conversation.” She walked toward the door, her spine stiff.
“Shaelyn!” Alec called.
She ignored him as if she were deaf, but before stepping into the hall and out of sight, she turned and cast one miserably sad glance at him.
He looked at Sheffield, searching for something to say.
The attorney stared at the empty doorway, a half-smile amazingly curving his lips.
“Reminds me of my Lori.” He turned back to Alec. “God help you, son.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Shaelyn tossed and whimpered, caught in the throes of her nightmare. The nightmare she’d had for as long as she could remember. She never knew what disturbed her so about the dream. She never retained any details. But she would always awaken with an overwhelming, devastating sense of loneliness. The loneliness would plague her for days. She never knew why. She’d always assumed it was some psychological throw-back from being adopted.
