At 7:20 she went into her bedroom. Taking off the shirtwaist and navy skirt, she put on the muslin dress she'd worn on her wedding day and pinched her cheeks and glanced in the cheval glass. Something was not quite right.
"Not exactly the seductress type, are you?" she said aloud.
In a final gesture, she reached behind her head and systematically pulled every hairpin from her chignon. Unpinned, her braid unrolled down her back, ending as it did just above her knees. She said a prayer that the dress and braid might jog a memory.
Her heart pounding, Adele went back into the nursery, leaving the door ajar so she could hear Beatrice if need be. She stood over by the table and waited as the seconds inexorably ticked toward 7:30.
Chapter 15
AT PRECISELY 7:30 the nursery door opened and Blair walked in. He was dressed as he had been in his office, dress shirt, suit trousers and matching vest. He had left off his jacket, but had retied his necktie. A corkscrew stuck out of a vest pocket and he carried a bottle of white wine and two glasses in his left hand. His tall, muscled frame filled the doorway. In shirt sleeves there was no mistaking the breadth of his shoulders for padding. Adele was struck, as she always had been, by how unbearably handsome he was.
"Daddy!" came a musical voice from the direction of the fireplace as the black-haired little boy climbed down from the rocking chair and ran over to his father. Joshua threw his arms around Blair's leg and looked up at this giant more than twice his size. "I'm so glad you came!"
Blair stared down at the package of love and energy wrapped around his leg, then up at the woman who stood observing them. His eyes reflected fear, confusion and discomfort.
He should not be afraid. He was Blair Carroll. He was afraid of nothing. Nothing ever touched his soul anymore. He had long ago willed away his vulnerability. Why was it since returning home did he feel so changed? What had happened during those two missing years that made him react with emotion and need? The thought made him shudder inside.
He again looked down at the child and stiffly touched the little raven head with his right hand. He marveled at how soft Joshua's hair was and how worshipful the gaze. His face reddened with embarrassment at how little he deserved this unabashed show of affection. His touch on Joshua's hair relaxed and he stroked the dark curls with an awe he rarely felt in anyone's presence.
Quietly, Adele closed the distance between them and took the bottle and glasses from his hand and returned with them to the table. Joshua took his father's right hand, completely oblivious to its mutilation, and pulled Blair to the table.
"Look, Daddy, I set the table all by myself. Miss Adele taught me. She says it's a special occasion."
Blair looked at Adele. "Is it a special occasion, Miss Adele?" He could not avoid the upward turn of his lips at adding the Miss to her name.
"Joshua's first dinner with his father; I would think so."
"And your daughter? Will she be joining us?"
Adele looked in the direction of the bedroom. "Sound asleep. You'll have to meet Beatrice another time, I fear. It's a shame. She learned a new word in honor of the occasion."
"Miss Adele," Joshua put in, "Bea is learning new words every day. Daddy, you have to meet her. She's so smart and pretty. Almost as pretty as Miss Adele."
Adele felt a rush of color flood her face. Blair saw it, too.
"Well," Blair responded, "if she's almost as pretty as Miss Adele she must be very beautiful indeed."
Brian Strange often told Adele he thought her beautiful. With him, she had come to believe it. Brian was gone, but if it was not an idle compliment in response to Joshua's comments, than Adele could retain hope of winning the man who stood before her.
"Dinner smells wonderful. I could smell it in the hall as I came up from the wine cellar. It's a German Rhine wine, called Riesling," he added, indicating, "A little on the sweet side, but good for someone's first taste, I think."
ALL THROUGH the dinner, Joshua did most of the talking, Blair did most of the listening and Adele did most of the looking.
The eating itself was largely a formality. As Adele had warned, she was only an adequate cook, but the fare disappeared anyway.
Joshua assailed Blair with stories about the train ride from Milwaukee and all the things that he had seen in San Francisco and the park where Uncle Stephen had taken him and Miss Susannah's pictures and did Blair want to see the pictures Miss Susannah had drawn of him and Uncle Stephen the day he arrived in San Francisco. And Miss Adele: He talked over and over again about the wonderful things Miss Adele showed him, like how to tie his shoes and set the table and write his name, Joshua Leval Carroll and...and...and....
At the name Leval, Blair started a bit. He had been listening and nodding before that, wondering to himself in passing where he had acquired the patience to listen to a six-year-old. It was not in his experience or nature to do so. All the while he concentrated on the face of the dark-haired lady in the modest ecru muslin gown who sat across from him, earnestly returning his gaze over her still nearly full wine glass.
The sound of Cherry's last name reminded him that Joshua was a mistake, the result of a short term, meaningless affair he had conducted because there could be no repercussions. How wrong Blair had been about that! Joshua should never have been born, and yet, here he was, a perfect miniature of his reluctant father. Blair felt suddenly embarrassed at the ego of thinking he could have tried to swoop down and take this little boy away from his mother, even if she was an actress and a harlot. For a moment, he felt sorry that Cherry was dead, even though he could not begin to dredge her face up in his mind. She had raised a smart and enthusiastic son without anyone's help.
Blair had not wanted to like Joshua. He thought it would be easier that way, less complicated to just do his legal duty without getting emotionally involved. Now he knew that would be impossible. If he was not very careful, this little charmer would draw him in and force him to care about his new son. He was afraid he would begin to like it.
Adele had said next to nothing since they sat down to dinner. She watched as the emotional distance between her beloved and his miniature narrowed. This was not the emotional closeness of which Brian had been capable, but it was a start. It was every bit as important for these two to become truly father and son as it was for her to get her husband back. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"Daddy, can I ask you a question?"
"May I," Adele corrected and Joshua repeated the question properly.
"What do you want to know, son?"
Joshua put his little hand on Blair's right. "Miss Adele told me that a bandit cut your finger off to steal a ring from you. Is that true?" Curiously he touched the small, thin, white scar.
Blair closed his hand over his son's. "Yes, I suspect that's true, but your Uncle Stephen got my ring back for me," he replied, showing Joshua the signet that he now wore on his left little finger.
Joshua touched the ring in wonder.
"When you're twenty-one years old, I'll buy you one. It was a tradition in your grandmother's family for at least four generations to have worn a ring like this one. Your grandfather gave me this one and one day you'll give one to your son."
Joshua's eyes brightened. "I have a grandfather?"
Blair shrugged. "Yes. He lives in Europe. Do you know where that is?" Blair tried very hard to keep his distaste for Oscar out of his comment. One day Joshua might have to make up his own mind about his grandfather if he ever met him.
Joshua nodded. "I can find it on the globe. It's a long way from San Francisco."
Blair nodded. "Yes, a very long way." In more ways than one, eh, Oscar?
"You're wearing two rings, Daddy. What's the other one for?"
Blair glanced down at the horseshoe nail band he wore on his left ring finger. "It's to remind me of something I've forgotten."
"I don't understand."
"I'm not sure I understand myself."
I understand, thought Adele. I may be the only o
ne who does.
"Can--may I ask you another question, Daddy?"
"Of course. I'll answer it if I can."
"I was in the park with Miss Adele a few days ago. I was chasing a ball when I saw a family. It was a man with orange hair, a lady with yellow hair like Molly has and a little boy as big as me with orange hair, too. He picked up the ball and I asked him to give it back. The lady looked at me like she didn't like me. She took the ball out of the boy's hands and said, `Stanley, you mustn't play with that boy.' The boy asked her why and she said, `Don't you know who he is? He's Blair Carroll's bastard.' Then, she dropped the ball on the ground and the family walked away...."
Adele gasped. Joshua had not told her of the exchange before now. As for Blair, the color drained out of his tanned face and he looked as if he had been struck by lightning.
"What's a bastard? The lady made it sound like something awful. Is something wrong with me?" he finished with a frown.
Blair stiffened noticeably and his hands fisted until the knuckles were white. "Absolutely not. There's nothing wrong with you. I'm the one with whom something is wrong."
"Then what's a bastard?" Joshua repeated. "Am I a bastard?"
Blair looked to Adele for help. How could he answer this question simply?
"Sweetheart," Adele said, "bastard is a not very nice word to call a child whose mama and daddy weren't married when he was born. You lived with your mama alone because she and your daddy weren't married, but when she died you came here to live with your daddy. There isn't anything you did except be born, but some people treat a little boy like you as if it was your fault you were born."
"But I didn't know those people who called me that. How did they know who I was?"
"News travels fast in San Francisco," Blair put in. "That family must have heard about you from someone. And you look so much like I did when I was a boy that there is no mistaking that you're my son."
Joshua frowned. "When Miss Susannah first saw me, she asked Uncle Stephen if he was my Daddy."
"Honey," said Adele. "I don't think she'd make that mistake again."
DINNER ENDED, and Joshua pulled Blair over to the rocking chair to show him his storybook while Adele cleared the table and brought the dishes downstairs for Bertha and Molly to attend to in the morning. The half-filled wine bottle and glasses she left on the table. When she turned around and saw father and son huddled together she was sure she had done the right thing for both of them. A jealous pain shot through her heart, as she realized that Beatrice deserved the same opportunity and might not ever have it again unless Blair regained the memory of his time as Brian Strange.
As Blair read Joshua a story from his book, the little boy's head began to nod and he was asleep before the tale was told.
"I think it's time for bed," whispered Adele, reaching for Joshua.
Blair usurped her duty, rising from the rocker with Joshua in his arms and carried him into his bedroom adjoining the nursery. Together they undressed him and got him into his nightshirt. When Adele had him all tucked in, as she had done to Beatrice, she ran her hand along his cheek and through his black hair.
As she looked up, her brandy brown eyes met Blair's steady gray gaze. Silently, she walked back into the nursery, Blair following behind.
"What a change you've wrought," he said. "When he first came here from Milwaukee, he was scared to death of me."
"Not as scared as you were of him," she observed. "You didn't stop being scared until tonight."
Blair looked pained. "You're right. He loves me."
"You seem amazed at that. You're his father."
"You loved your father, didn't you."
Adele sighed, "I truly did. I would have cut off my arm if it meant he hadn't had to die in such slow agony. He gave us everything he had without hesitation. But you and your father are at odds and have been for years."
Blair responded bitterly, "I sometimes wonder if he ever loved me as much as he loved the idea of me, oldest son and heir and all. It was so convenient for him that I was the right age when he decided to go gallivanting around the world and leave me with the business and Stephen to raise. You know, I purposely changed the company name from Carroll and Sons to Carroll Enterprises just to spite him."
"You know, history doesn't have to repeat itself. You're not your father. You don't have to treat your son like your father treated you. Give him a fair chance to be himself and give yourself a fair chance to love him."
"Joshua isn't even your kin, but you seem to care about him so much more than just a governess."
Adele shrugged. "I'm a mother first and a governess because it suits me to be one. Joshua has enough love to go around and some to spare. One day you'll see him with Bea. He's so bright and inquisitive. He learns things so quickly. I seldom have to teach him anything twice. He has a memory like I've never seen. You read him something once and he can recite it back to you exactly. If I ever have a son, I would want him to be just like Josh. I hope Bea grows up to be like Josh."
"I don't deserve him, you know."
Adele put her hand over Blair's mouth. "Don't you dare say that! What makes you think you don't deserve love?"
Blair took that hand in his. He looked right in Adele's eyes as he had over Joshua's bed. She felt the heat of his gaze and gave as good as she got.
"The first time I meet someone I could possibly love and she's not available." He pressed her hand to his lips.
Adele closed her eyes. An electrical shudder ran through her. "Maybe she's more available than you think." She pulled away suddenly and walked away from him toward the nursery window.
As she stared out the window at the March night, she felt the heat of his presence behind. He lifted his hand to the nape of her neck and ran it under her braid.
"You wore your hair down. I wondered how long it was."
The air was charged with electricity. Without warning, Blair spun Adele around and crushed her along his length. Her tall body fit his taller one perfectly. He lowered his lips to hers and gently kissed her.
To him it seemed that they were built to be each other's complement. To her, it was like they had always fit together, no matter what he was calling himself. She slid her arms around him and parted her lips.
His kiss became more possessive. His tongue probed, dueling with hers. She could feel the rising hardness of his maleness through her skirts and warmth began to suffuse her, burning up from her secret core. He nibbled on her lower lip and drifted up, kissing her jaw and nibbling her earlobe.
She shuddered a little. This was not her gentle Brian sharing his love with her. This was Blair Carroll taking what he wanted. She told herself it was the same man, then refuted it. He was a different man with different ways. She told herself this man shouldn't arouse her this way, then realized this lovemaking was every bit as exciting as the other. She barely noticed the slight tugging at her scalp as Blair pulled the binding from the bottom of her braid and began to unplait it. Neither did she feel his fingers on the bone buttons on the back of her bodice, buttons he himself had made for her.
Blair ran his fingers through her hair as he held her against him. "So soft," he murmured. Desire seared through him as it had never done before--at least to his memory.
The cold feel of her hair on her back reminded Adele of her goal for the evening. Taking Blair's hands in hers, she backed into her bedroom and guided him to the bed. She dropped her slippers from her feet as she allowed him to press her onto her back on the bed.
Blair swung one knee onto the bed and eased Adele's bodice off her shoulders and below her bosom. He unbuttoned her chemise and unhooked her corset, revealing her small firm breasts with the aureolae darkened from lactation. The nipples were already hardening into hard buds as he worried them with his thumbs. Adele noticed his hands were nearly as smooth and callus-free again as they had been when she had first found him. Four months of care had all but erased two years of hard labor. The thought saddened her and she sighed.
Blair mistook the sigh for a sign of arousal. He quickly pulled his own clothes off and, returning to the bed, pressed his lips to one dusky nipple. As he laved at the bud, to his surprise he tasted mother's milk.
"You're still nursing?" he said in amazement.
"A bit. She's nearly weaned now. Do you mind?"
His answer was to taste another sample. The action and taste aroused him to a hardness he never expected. He reached for the tapes closing her skirt, petticoats and pantalets and slid them down from her waist, across her firm, flat stomach and down her long legs.
Starting at each knee, he released her garters and rained kisses on her shins as he peeled off her stockings until she was naked and revealed to him. He drifted his trail of kisses back up from her toes to the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. He found her pulsing bud with his tongue. His mustache grazed the aching flesh, increasing the sensations. Using his tongue, lips and teeth Blair visited exquisite pleasure pain on Adele.
Her response was to cry out mindlessly as he drew her higher and higher; her hips rose to meet his ministrations, she rained her desire in sex-scented fragrant flow. She could not be calculating. She needed him too much.
"It's too much," she gasped.
"Should I stop?"
"Oh, no, don't stop, don't stop."
"You're so ready."
He returned to his task. Her heat rose higher still, her moans more emphatic until, suddenly, she exploded in wave after wave of fulfillment, her whole body shaking, tears flowing from her eyes.
Her climaxes barely were stilled when he rose above her and plunged his sex like a sword into her sheath. Childbirth notwithstanding, her muscles drew him in tightly, holding his increasing arousal, which was hardening more and more. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she tried to pull him inside her more and more deeply as he thrust himself harder and harder.
Remember My Love Page 20
