A Scarlet Bride

by Sylvia McDaniel

  Here was where the yelling would begin. She straightened her spine, prepared for the onslaught. "Now I realize I should have told you about Gordon and Hester's Revenge months ago. I never thought it was wrong to keep the truth from you, until now."

  Connor only stared at her. "I understand that he did terrible things to you. Enough bad things to make you retaliate in a very public way."

  She moved away from him to stand beside the window, and looked out, prepared for the worst. "I knew my marriage to Gordon was a mistake almost from the day I married him. It took me only six months to find out our marriage vows meant nothing." She wrung her hands. "The first time I caught him was the hardest. Nothing can prepare you for the sight of your husband with one of the maids in your own home."

  Glancing at him, she watched as the muscle in his jaw tightened, and Alexandra had to force herself to continue. He was going to be so angry with her for keeping the truth from him.

  "You don't have to tell me this."

  His words shocked her.

  "But I must. I must tell you everything, so you'll understand." She took a deep breath. "The next time I caught him with a female guest who was staying overnight. An old friend of the family. Later I learned she was his exmistress who just happened to be in town, and needed a place to stay."

  She glanced down at her hands. "I kept believing it was all my fault. I wasn't doing something a good wife was supposed to do. I had never been with a man before, and didn't know the ways between a man and a woman. He was so unnatural when it came to sex, and I was naive enough to believe every man was that way. Until our night together."

  She blushed and walked around a table. "I blamed myself until the trial. I knew then there was nothing I could have done to save my marriage. He accused me of adultery so that he could marry his mistress. He didn't want me. He wanted his mistress all along."

  Connor took two long strides to reach her. "You don't have to say anything more. I finished Hester's Revenge this morning."

  "You read my book?" She gazed at him in surprise. "Where did you find a copy?"

  He glanced down at her hand and brushed his fingers against her knuckles. "I sent a servant into town yesterday."

  "Oh," was all Alexandra could manage as she stared at him.

  "Gordon Thurston is a stupid, vile man who doesn't realize what he's lost," Connor said quietly.

  She felt her heart leap at his words and swallowed convulsively. "You believe me? You don't think I committed adultery?"

  He gazed into her eyes. "Damn right, I believe you. Any person who accepts Gordon's story after reading this book is a fool."

  Alexandra stared at Connor in disbelief. Even her own father had not believed her, choosing to think she was an adulteress. Friends and family had trusted Gordon, until finally she had given up and kept to herself, a social reject accused of a contemptible act of which she was innocent.

  Tears pricked her eyes, welling up from her heart to fall. One drop beaded on her eyelid before rolling down her cheek. Connor reached out and swiped away the moisture with his thumb.

  "Don't cry," he whispered. "I should have known from the very beginning. I should have realized you could never commit adultery.

  "After reading this book, I know you were accused falsely just so that Gordon could get his divorce," he said gently.

  Her bottom lip trembled. Connor believed her. Truly believed she was innocent, and he was being sympathetic, not angry as she'd feared. His tender response was enough to send her over the edge. Tears rolled unheeded down her cheeks.

  Connor took one step closer and folded her in his arms, letting her sob out her hurt and anger against his shirt. His sincerity, his caring, touched her, even though she knew her book was going to make his life a living hell, and hurt Suzanne's chances in society.

  "I'm so sorry what I've done is going to hurt you and Suzanne," she sobbed. "I never meant to cause the two of you any pain."

  "I know." Connor kissed the top of her head. "We'll deal with those problems when they occur. Today, I want you to rest and take it easy. You may need your strength in the days to come."

  "There's something else I need to tell you, Connor." She had to tell him about the second novel. After his acceptance of Hester's Revenge, he had to know she was not through with her retaliation, even though it bothered her that she was hurting the people she cared about.

  He put his fingers to her lips. "You're not feeling well. We'll talk more later. For now, I only want you to rest."

  She gazed up into the bluest eyes this side of the Atlantic and felt her heartbeat quicken, sending a warm feeling rushing through her limbs. His head lowered towards hers, his lips meeting hers halfway.

  His kiss was heated and tender, yet firm and urgent at the same time. It was a sealed promise as his lips moved over hers. A promise of so much more to come when the sun went down.

  His lips relinquished hers abruptly, leaving her with an unsatisfied hunger, a burning for more. She opened her eyes, feeling as if her world was teetering off balance. He took both of her hands in his, brought them up to his lips, and kissed the back of each hand.

  "I have to go back out to the fields. Lunchtime is over, and I must have every man working right now." He gazed at her quizzically. "Will you be all right?"

  His thoughtfulness touched her deeply, leaving her completely off balance. "I'll be fine. You go back to your work. I'll see you tonight."

  "Tonight." He didn't have to say anything else. She knew, and anticipated the evening hour.

  ***

  Connor rode Merrily, a chestnut bay gelding, around the field watching his workers pick the white fluffy cotton. There would be barely enough to cover expenses for the next year, let alone the taxes that were now delinquent. He was sure the only reason he had not been contacted was because the county knew the end of the cottongrowing season was at hand and they were waiting to see how his crop fared.

  Otherwise, why hadn't he heard from them regarding the sale of River Bend? The thought of losing River Bend was more than he could bear. Thanks to Alexandra's father's offer, he would not have to worry about forfeiting his home to the bank if he could get her with child. But the thought of taking money from James Halsted III was starting to grate against his nerves like squeaky metal.

  Yet his biggest concern was Alexandra finding out. He would do everything in his power to keep the knowledge of the arrangement with her father a secret. She didn't deserve that kind of pain. Right now, all he could do was get the crops in on time and hope he wouldn't need her father's money.

  The sight of a rider spurring his horse up the lane drew Connor's attention. An uneasy feeling overcame him as he watched the rider approach. The boy pulled to a halt in front of him, the horse panting from the exertion. Connor recognized the youth as a servant from Summerwood, Alexandra's aunt and uncle's home.

  "Excuse me, sir. But I have a message for you."

  The lad handed Connor an envelope, which he quickly took. Ripping open the envelope, he pulled out the note.

  Uncle Sydney has had a bad spell with his heart. I don't think he'll last the day. Come quickly.

  Clara

  A pang of worry rocked Connor. Concern that Sydney LaRoux was so terribly ill. He folded the note and put it in his pocket. Of all the times Alexandra needed someone by her side, this would be it.

  The boy stood waiting for him expectantly.

  Connor sighed. "Tell Mrs. LaRoux we'll be there within the hour."

  "Yes, sir."

  The boy mounted his horse, and rode away at the same breakneck speed as earlier. Connor ran his hand through his hair. He would have to tell his wife.

  ***

  Alexandra sat with Aunt Clara in her sitting room, waiting for the doctor to come out of Sydney's bedroom and give them news of her uncle's condition. She gripped her aunt's hand in hers.

  "He's going to be fine. He's strong and he'll recover from this spell just like the others," Alexandra reassured her.

  A
unt Clara shook her head. "I truly hope you're right."

  Her aunt smiled, a tired, withered look on her face. "Sydney and I have had a lot of good years together."

  "And you'll have even more. He loves you. He won't give up." Alexandra couldn't think of her aunt living alone, without her uncle.

  "I have no doubt that he loves me." She patted Alexandra's hand. "You know, my only regret is that I never was able to give him children."

  "It didn't seem to matter to him."

  "Sydney knew how much I wanted them. He would never have let me know how disappointed he was. In fact, he tried to make it up to me," she whispered, her voice choking.

  Alexandra sighed. "As a child, I liked to pretend he was my father. He acted as more of a father to me than my own. I can't bear to think of him not recovering."

  The afternoon was beginning to wane into early evening as the sun slowly slid behind the horizon.

  Aunt Clara laughed, a small, nervous sound, and twisted her hands. "When we were young he was quite a rake. Mother didn't want me to marry him because she thought him very improper."

  "But once you married him, he must have settled down."

  "Oh, after a while. But our first few years were rather volatile. If we had not been so much in love, we could have turned out differently."

  "It's obvious the man loves you dearly."

  Aunt Clara smiled. "Yes, dear, reformed rakes make the best husbands."

  Connor strolled into the room, carrying a tray laden with tea and glasses. "I thought you ladies might need a bit of. refreshment.''

  He set the tray down on the rockmaple coffee table before the two women. Raising up, he looked at Aunt Clara. "Any news?"

  "No. The doctor is still in with him."

  "Don't worry about anything but Sydney. I'll oversee feeding the livestock, and check with the servants on dinner."

  "Thank you, Connor," she said, glancing at the closed door to Sydney's room.

  Alexandra gave him a small smile as she watched him leave.

  Aunt Clara shifted in her chair. "Your Connor had a reputation for being a rake. Already I can see some transformation in him. Are the two of you doing any better?"

  Alexandra shrugged. "Some."

  ''I really think Connor is a good man and will someday make you an excellent husband."

  "He' s different than I expected,'' Alexandra said, rising from her chair, wishing she could change the topic of conversation.

  "If you're comparing him to that nogood scoundrel your father chose for you the first time, of course he's different. He's decent, though a rogue," Aunt Clara said, glancing at the closed door to Sydney's room, her eyes brimming with tears.

  "Yes, but I expected to be married to the rogue, and now I find he's caring and understanding. Qualities I never expected in a man. Though at times he acts totally irresponsible."

  "Oh, yes, I remember those days. One part husband, one part devil. There may be hope for this relationship yet." Aunt Clara gave a wan smile. "Have you fallen in love with him, Alexandra?"

  The question took her completely off guard. Did she love Connor?

  She yearned for his touch, dreamed of him at night, listened for the sound of his voice during the day. But was that love?

  She glanced out at the fields of Summerwood and watched as Connor strolled across the yard. Even now the sight of him was enough to make her body tingle in different places.

  "I'm afraid, Aunt Clara. Afraid if I fall in love with him, I'll be hurt like before," she said as she watched him disappear into the barn.

  "Do you think Connor is like Gordon?"

  She thought for a moment. "No. But sometimes they seem similar."

  Aunt Clara shook her head in acknowledgment. "They're men. But do you think Connor would betray you like Gordon did?"

  "I don't think so. But it's still hard to put complete faith in him." It was hard to trust him at all, yet she found herself having more and more confidence in him.

  "Give yourself time. Once you've established trust, you'll learn that he could never be like Gordon."

  Alexandra sipped her tea. "You make it sound so simple."

  "But it's not, dear. Marriage is a very hard institution, as you well know," Aunt Clara said, glancing once again at Uncle Sydney's door.

  Alexandra sighed. "My first marriage was a total hypocrisy. I never loved Gordon. But this time it's different. Nothing at all like I expected."

  "But it didn't start out that way," Aunt Clara said. She glanced at Alexandra. "I always wondered why you never came to me, told me what Gordon had done to you."

  Alexandra twisted her hands. "I should have. I told Father and he all but called me a lying slut. And then, after a while, society treated me like I had leprosy, so I decided it was time to go. Time to get out of the country. I ran."

  Aunt Clara shook her head. "Your father has as much sense as a jackass. But I have to admit, I love what you've done to Gordon."

  A smile hovered on Alexandra's lips.

  "Any intelligent person will realize you wrote that book," Aunt Clara said. "After all, the families are quite recognizable."

  "You're not ashamed of what I've done?" Alexandra couldn't help but ask.

  "Good heavens, no. If I were you I would not have been so nice. I would have killed him and his harlot. But I think you're making things more difficult for yourself and Connor. The past is over, Alexandra. It's time to let it go."

  Just then the door opened and the doctor rushed out looking harried. "Mrs. LaRoux, I think you and Mrs. Manning should hurry in. I'm afraid he's taken a turn for the worse."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Uncle Sydney was dead. Alexandra glanced around her old bedroom in shock. She hadn't really believed he would die. He'd been sick before, but he'd always recovered. The thought of never seeing him again seemed unreal. The whole day felt like a nightmare.

  Aunt Clara was holding up reasonably well, but Alexandra couldn't bear the thought of leaving her unattended tonight, so they had remained at Summerwood. Her aunt had the rest of her life to be alone. Tonight, she needed family close by.

  Connor had been at Alexandra's side since the doctor had told them there was nothing more he could do. He had even consoled Aunt Clara when Uncle Sydney passed away, and Alexandra could not help but feel touched by his comforting.

  He had taken care of the funeral arrangements, made sure the livestock were fed, put the servants to preparing the house for mourning, and sent a servant to River Bend for more clothing. She knew he was busy with the harvest, but he had agreed to stay until after the funeral.

  Alexandra was surprised by Connor, astonished at the thoughtfulness he'd displayed today, thankful for his considerate nature.

  But his actions were not fitting into her picture of him. She had not expected Connor to be so empathetic and caring. She had not envisioned him to be so responsive to her needs. Rakes didn't offer to help someone unless there was something in it for themselves. Yet Connor had been totally selfless this afternoon, thinking of only her and Aunt Clara.

  She was beginning to think he was more of a family man than she had ever realized.

  A knock on the door startled her. "Yes?"

  "It's me. May I come in?"

  The rich, husky timbre of his voice settled over her, thrumming along the edge of her nerves. Opening the door, he stood before her in a rich, navy brocade dressing gown. For a moment, she simply stared, then quickly moved aside to give him access to her bedchamber, hoping he hadn't noticed her close inspection.

  "I just wanted to check on you," he said, "make sure you were all right before I retired for the night."

  Alexandra crossed the room to stand by the bed. She leaned her hand against the cherry bedpost. Aunt Clara had given them their choice of rooms, and Connor had chosen the room next to hers. For a moment, she had almost told her aunt to put them in the same room, but fear had kept her silent. The fear of accepting her husband once again, of taking a chance on their happiness.

/>   "I'm okay," she said. "His death doesn't seem real yet. It doesn't seem possible that I'll never hear Uncle Sydney's robust laugh again. I'm going to miss him terribly."

  Connor crossed the room to stand behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. She shivered at the feel of his flesh through the sheer silk of her nightgown.

  "We'll all miss Sydney." His hands kneaded her tightened muscles. "I've just come from Aunt Clara. The funeral has been arranged for the day after tomorrow. We had to wait until then so your father could get here."

  "Father's coming?" she asked, surprised.

  "Yes. I sent him a telegram this afternoon."

  She sighed. "I'm shocked he's taking time off from the bank."

  "He's the executor of Sydney's will," Connor responded.

  "Oh, now I understand. There must be some monetary reward for him."

  Connor didn't reply, but simply let his hands move over the top of her collarbone, easing the tension as she rolled her head aside to give him more access to her neck. "Your hands feel nice," she said.

  "Good," he replied, his voice low and close to her ear.

  "They feel warm."

  She felt his lips against her sensitive neck. "I made sure they were warm just for you," he whispered against her ear.

  She turned to face him and scanned his features. His eyes seemed to darken, the blue deepening to a sultry blue. A trickle of heat seemed to spread through her as she gazed at him. "I want to thank you for taking care of the arrangements for Aunt Clara. It would have been so difficult for her."

  He opened his arms, and she felt magnetically pulled into his embrace. "Death is so final," he said. "All afternoon, I kept waiting for Sydney to come in from the fields. I just knew he would walk through the back door and ask me why in the hell I was arranging his funeral."

  Wrapping her arms around Connor, she laid her head against his shoulder. "I know. It's such a disjointed feeling, to think Uncle Sydney won't be around anymore. He was more of a father to me than my own."

  Connor rubbed his palm against her back. Her breasts were snug against the rockhard solidness of his chest and she could feel the rhythm of his heart beating. It felt so right to be in his arms, as if she were meant to be exactly in this spot at this moment.