“Yes, I hated Kingsley and I hate you. You could have stopped the beating, you should have stopped it! My Mariah lay right there,” Naomi gestured wildly toward the cot, “and I thought he might die. His back, oh, his poor back was so broken and bleeding, so raw. But he didn’t cry out his pain, and your husband wanted him to cry. I saw how he was lashed to the tree, tied like an animal and whipped by Harlan’s evil spawn until he couldn’t stand. And I hoped my son might die rather than live with the humiliation and the pain of loving a deceitful woman.” Naomi grabbed Diana’s hands. “Why did you lie to Harlan and Kingsley? Why did you tell them that Mariah tried to rape you when you knew it wasn’t true? Because of your hateful lie, Harlan let my son be harmed. Because of you, my son left Briarhaven. Yes, he may have committed evil after he left, but you’re to blame for that evil. You, Diana, you and your deceit!”
Naomi dropped Diana’s hands, her face was purple with rage and filled with hatred. What was Naomi talking about? Why did she believe she’d lied to Harlan and Kingsley? She’d never said Tanner had tried to rape her. “I never did that,” she protested, growing weak as Naomi pushed her out of the door. “I didn’t…”
“Then look at my son’s back for proof! Or didn’t you ever notice the scars there? But then again, you see nothing but what you want to see. People like you seldom do.” Naomi slammed the door in her face.
Diana could hardly mount the horse. Her mind and stomach churned, causing her to feel unbearably ill. The brisk winter wind only increased her discomfort, and by the time she reached the barn, she was so sick that Ezra had to carry her into the house and into her room.
Hattie and Aunt Frances clucked over her, insisting she drink some hot tea. But Diana couldn’t drink or eat. Nothing the two women did for her, from removing her shoes and clothes to covering her with the warm quilt and lighting the fire in the hearth, eased her discomfort.
“She’s in shock,” was Hattie’s assessment, spoken in low tones to Frances.
They both shook their heads in dismay, wondering what could have happened to cause it. “Ladies who are enceinte shouldn’t be riding horses in this sort of weather,” Frances avowed. “Her husband should be with her, that’s what. Diana wouldn’t disobey Tanner.”
Tanner. His back. The scars. He’d told her he’d received them years ago, that they were unimportant, but he had gotten them on the night he’d kissed her. Kingsley had done that to him; Harlan had allowed it. No wonder he hated his father and brother. And he had hated her, too.
That was the reason he’d always regarded her with suspicion: he’d believed Kingsley’s lie. But hadn’t she felt a sense of forgiveness for this in him? She hadn’t known what it was he’d silently been accusing her of, yet she’d sensed a change in attitude. But she’d been wrong.
She had wondered why he used the information about her association with Clay, why she had no sooner divulged it than he left Oak Island. The answer was quite simple. Tanner wanted to avenge himself upon her, not because she was a Sheridan but because he’d believed a stupid, idiotic lie!
“Didn’t he know I wouldn’t do that?” she cried aloud.
Apparently not.
~
Dinner the next day was a festive occasion. The ladies gathered around the dining table dressed in their best gowns and bestowed upon Clay their undivided attention. This year thanks was offered for saving Briarhaven from the British and victory at Eutaw Springs, but a sadness permeated the room as all eyes were momentarily trained upon Harlan’s empty chair.
As usual, Hattie had outdone herself. The wild turkey literally melted in everyone’s mouths, the sweet potatoes with sugar oozing out of the jackets were instantly devoured, as was the simple dessert of nuts and raisins. “I’m about to burst,” Clay good-naturedly complained, and leaned back in his chair to smile at Marisa when he finished his meal. Marisa poured some of the tea that the British had left into a cup for Clay, agreeing with him. Diana thought that Marisa would agree with Clay if he told her the sky was green instead of blue.
But love was like that, blind and trusting. Diana pushed her plate away, having eaten very little. Frances chastised her. “If Tanner was here you’d eat, I warrant.”
Hurriedly, Diana rose from her seat, afraid she might say something she regretted. “I’m fine, Aunt Frances. There’s no need to worry about me.”
Leaving the dining room, Diana went into the parlor and gazed out at the cold winter afternoon. A dark wall of pines in the distance fringed fields that had once been a shimmering gold, but now lay brown and overrun with weeds. Diana sighed. How was she going to have the fields in any condition for spring planting when there was no one to work them? Precious few slaves were left on any of the plantations. And many who had stayed had either perished during fever epidemics or were sickly or old, or both. It seemed that Briarhaven was luckier than most plantations because it was still intact, still offering a roof and warmth from the elements. But without the rice crop and slaves to work the fields, what would happen to all of them a year from now?
A slight noise behind her caused Diana to turn around. She saw Clay smiling at her. “What are you thinking so hard about?” he asked her.
“The future, or rather the lack of one.”
His gaze traveled over the fields, instantly comprehending. “The British have made it hard for us, but somehow we’ll survive. Briarhaven will survive, you must believe that.”
“I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself or Briarhaven,” Diana said, an apology in her voice. “Sinclair House was burned and your family forced to leave. We’ve been very, very lucky.”
Clay nodded and shifted his attention from the fields to Diana. “I won’t argue with you about that, because you’re right, but we both know luck had nothing to do with it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t act coy with me, Diana. I discovered that Sinclair House was to have been Farnsworth’s headquarters but that Briarhaven was chosen instead.”
“How do you know that?”
“Tanner told me.”
Diana’s jaw dropped, her surprise so apparent that Clay grinned and helped her to the sofa. “Sit down before you fall down,” he advised.
“Why did Tanner tell you that?” Diana asked when her shock had abated some. “When did you speak to Tanner? No, don’t tell me. I think I know. He was waiting for you in the swamp, ready to capture you, but you escaped.”
“Yes, and no. Yes, he was waiting for me in the swamp. In fact, I think this is yours.” Clay withdrew a blue hair ribbon from the pocket of his shirt. Diana gave a groan of dismay, but he took both of her hands in his, his steady comfort silencing her. “I found it hanging from a tree limb and I assumed you’d placed it there. Imagine my surprise when I returned that night and found not you but your husband.”
“Oh, Clay, I’m so sorry…”
“Nothing to be sorry about, Diana, because he wasn’t there for what you think. He wanted to help the rebel cause by passing on information about the British plan to capture Eutaw Springs. It was because of his advance warning and assessment of what the British planned that we won at all. Your husband is a hero.”
“I … can’t … believe … it.”
Clay’s expression became extremely solemn and he sounded concerned and serious. “Tanner loves you; otherwise, he wouldn’t have changed sides. He admitted to me that he left you at Oak Island because he felt he needed to make something up to you, that he’d misjudged you and hadn’t trusted you about something, and this was the only way he knew to make amends.” Clay smiled. “He said he feared you’d be madder than a hornet, but he hoped you’d somehow trust him when things looked darkest. I can tell you didn’t.”
Tears of joy and pain mingled in Diana’s eyes and ran freely down her cheeks. Tanner hadn’t betrayed her! He’d left to gain information from Farnsworth, something of value that he could pass onto Clay and Colonel Marion and bring the war to a quicker end. And it looked like he’d accomplished his m
ission. But then again, Mariah never failed.
But the joy was mitigated by the horrible knifelike wound that suddenly tore at her heart as she remembered the terrible things she’d thought about him, the awful things she’d written in her letter to him. She hadn’t trusted him; she had behaved in the same way he’d behaved all those years ago. She had believed a lie, too.
Diana found herself in Clay’s comforting embrace, weeping copious tears. “Now, Diana, crying offers only a momentary relief, but it doesn’t solve any problems.”
“I know that,” she agreed and took the kerchief he handed her to compose herself.
“Then what are you going to do about it?”
“It’s too late to do anything now, Clay.” She disengaged herself from his arms and leaned tiredly against the back of the sofa. “I can’t go crawling to Charlestown now and beg Tanner’s forgiveness.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m too big and awkward to get on my hands and knees.” She patted her bulging abdomen and smiled weakly.
Clay grinned. “Tanner wouldn’t want you to beg anyway, because he isn’t the sort of person who expects it. Why don’t you just show up and do the simple, decent thing and apologize to him? If he kicks you out on your posterior, then you’ll know where things stand, or rather where they don’t.”
“You make things sound so simple.”
“That’s what comes with living in the wild, I guess.”
“Will you escort me to Charlestown, or as close as you can get? I know you can’t enter the city since it’s under British occupation and dangerous for you.”
“I’ll take you as far as I can,” Clay readily agreed and chucked her chin in brotherly fashion. “But I expect your husband will escort you home; otherwise, I’ll have your Aunt Frances give him a proper scolding.”
Diana couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Frances, the diminutive woman whose tongue never ceased wagging, berating a man twice her size, one who talked only when he had something to say. “I bet Tanner would take me all the way to the equator to escape a lecture from Frances Delaune.”
“Then start packing,” Clay advised.
Diana didn’t hesitate. She knew Clay was right. She had to apologize to Tanner, and he must still want her. He had to want her. But she remembered Annabelle Hastings and regarded her ballooning abdomen with trepidation, not certain that she could compete with Annabelle, or with any woman for that matter. Now that she thought it through, she wasn’t certain of anything.
17
Diana’s coach halted before Tanner’s townhouse. She had parted with Clay barely an hour before, and now Ezra waited, reins in hand, his eyes wary and guarded.
“You gonna be safe, Miss Diana?” Ezra asked. “I don’t like bein’ around these redcoats too much.”
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, but she felt quite vulnerable herself and started trembling anew now that she was finally here. “Go around back to the servants’ quarters and tell Cammie to prepare you a hot meal and find you a place to sleep.”
“How long we gonna be stayin’.”
“I don’t know, Ezra. I really can’t say.”
“Should I unload your trunk?”
“Just wait in the kitchen until I send word either way.”
Ezra nodded he understood, and Diana watched while he guided the horses around back to the carriage house.
The urge to call Ezra back and return home gripped her, but she quelled it. She had to speak to Tanner, that was the reason she’d come all of this way. Taking a deep breath and pulling her cloak tightly about her, she grabbed the knocker and gave it a hearty thump.
While she waited for someone to answer she noticed a man across the street watching her with an intensity that sent shivers of apprehension along her spine. He was an ill-kempt looking man, poorly dressed. His beard was in need of a decent trimming, and from what she could see of his shaggy hair, covered by a frayed hat pulled low over his eyes, it could do with a good washing as well. She’d seen sorrier looking men, but there was something about this particular man that unnerved her. Now her hands shook so badly that she didn’t know if her condition was from seeing Tanner again or being the object of this person’s insulting stare.
“Hurry up,” she mumbled under her breath, and knocked once more. The door opened a crack, and Diana grinned to see Cammie.
“Oh, Mrs. Sheridan!” Cammie cried and opened the door wider for Diana to enter. “I’m so pleased to see you. Let me take your cape and hang it up.”
“No, no,” Diana protested and shot Cammie a thin smile. “I’m not certain how welcome I’ll be.”
Cammie immediately understood and whispered, “Mr. Sheridan has visitors — and a house guest.”
“I know about Annabelle Hastings. Who else is here?”
“Captain Farnsworth and some of his officers.”
Diana didn’t stifle her groan. “Just exactly what I need. I’ll be in my room. Please tell Mr. Sheridan I’ve arrived.”
Diana hurried up the stairs, unaware that Annabelle and Samuel Farnsworth had seen her. Annabelle fluttered her fan. “So that’s Tanner’s wife, is it?”
“Yes, that’s her. I hope her consumption is better,” he worried aloud.
“She looks quite healthy to me, Samuel, and stop being such a great baby about illness. You’ve been with so many women of dubious reputation that it’s a wonder you haven’t caught the pox.”
“Annabelle, please…”
She tapped him with her fan. “Is Diana Sheridan a threat to my securing Tanner?”
Samuel blanched and gripped her wrist. “You know I love you, Annabelle! Why do you want Tanner when you can have me? I’d be good to you, treat you like a queen. My grandfather left me a small piece of property in England; we could be happy there.”
“Are you wealthy?”
He stiffened. “I’m comfortable.”
Annabelle sighed. “You mean you’re poor.”
“I’m not!”
“I won’t mince words with you. If you’re not poor then you’re certainly not wealthy enough for me. I know how it feels when silk slides across the skin, how satin feels cool and crisp, and how diamonds and rubies warm my flesh. I lost all when I left Philadelphia, and I admit I was quite stupid not to marry Tanner when he wanted me in New York. I could have had all of this right now.” Annabelle sent a withering glance up the stairs. “And stop twisting my wrist or I’ll scream.”
Releasing her, Samuel smirked. “I wager that Tanner will send you packing now that his wife is returned.”
“Don’t be so certain, Samuel. I do hate it when you try to appear smug.”
~
Standing beside the bed she had shared with Tanner, Diana grasped a handful of sheer red silk. It was a woman’s negligee, certainly not her own. Of course, it belonged to Annabelle Hastings, and most certainly she had been sleeping in Tanner’s bed — with Tanner. Diana had suspected as much, but the gown was confirmation of Tanner’s affair.
Don’t cry, she silently ordered as she blinked away the tears. It seemed she cried so easily these days.
“Diana,” came Tanner’s voice from the open doorway. She started, not having heard his approach. “Cammie told me you had returned.”
A peach-tinted flush consumed her entire body, deepening the color of her cheeks almost to rose. “Yes, as you can see I’m here, but from the looks of things, you’ve been too occupied to notice my absence.” She purposely dropped the gown onto the floor by Tanner’s feet. “I do hate cheap clothes littering the room.”
Tanner didn’t say anything about the gown but kicked it aside. “Do you intend to stay?”
“I don’t know. Am I wanted?”
“This is your house, too, Diana. I told you that when I married you.”
She fingered the tassel on her cape, feeling horribly ill at ease. “Yes, you did. We’ll be married a year next month, do you realize that?” God, she sounded stupid, almost as if she were using their weddi
ng anniversary to make him feel guilty about Annabelle Hastings when Annabelle wasn’t the reason they were separated in the first place.
“I can count,” he said.
Diana took a step forward, aching to touch him, to beg his forgiveness. “Tanner, I must apologize…”
“Oh, there’s my gown. I had wondered where it went to.” A woman with silver-gold hair appeared at the doorway, and Diana immediately knew she was Annabelle Hastings. She immediately disliked her. Annabelle bent down and picked it up, sending a sly glance in Diana’s direction before placing a hand on Tanner’s arm and training her pale blue eyes upon him. “Introduce us, Tanner, dear.’’
Stiffly, Tanner did just that. Diana inclined her head and Annabelle grinned. “How delightful to meet you,” she told Diana. “I think I’ve interrupted a private conversation. Do continue and forgive me.” She squeezed Tanner’s hand. “Don’t be long, darling, we have guests.” And then she breezed out of the room.
“It isn’t what it looks like,” Tanner began to explain.
“You don’t have to go into details, Tanner, I don’t want to know anyway. What you’ve done here with that woman is your business.”
“I haven’t done anything. Her gown was in here because she used the bathing room earlier today.”
“Oh, so you allow her personal use of my effects. Does she wear any of the gowns I left behind?”
“Diana, stop.” There was a distinct warning tone in his voice, but Diana didn’t care. She’d come here to apologize and now she found she couldn’t, wouldn’t humble herself to him, not after he’d allowed Annabelle to bathe in her tub, probably scenting her whore’s body with her perfumes, and then, no doubt, to sleep in her bed. All of his prattle about loving her forever, wanting to make a child, was a lie too. He couldn’t ever have loved her to forget her so quickly.
“Yes, I will stop,” Diana acknowledged with a stiff nod of her head. “I made a mistake in coming here.”
“Where in hell do you think you’re going?” Tanner growled and gripped her arm when she made a movement toward the door.
Savage Deception (Liberty's Ladies) Page 23
