When she reached the house, she circled around to Ryan’s study.
Light was coming from the window, and she peered inside to see him sitting on the leather sofa in front of the fireplace. Corbett was beside him. Evidently he had helped get little Danny to bed, then returned.
Their feet were propped on a table, and they were sipping wine, obviously enjoying themselves. Angele felt certain they would be there for some time.
So, with Clarice undoubtedly in bed and sound asleep, Angele decided it would not be necessary to climb back up the trellis. Instead, she went around to the back door.
Quietly, she opened it and stepped inside.
All she had to do was tiptoe up the back stairs.
Suddenly the door to the tea kitchen opened, and Clarice stepped out. She was holding a lantern. “Well, well,” she gloated. “I knew if I waited long enough, I’d catch you sneaking back in.”
Startled and upset, Angele floundered for an explanation. She didn’t want to get the Negroes in trouble by saying she had been with them. “I went for a walk,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Liar,” Clarice sneered. “I saw you from my window when you went through the barnyard and followed you far enough to know you were going to the slave compound. Now, you come along with me.” She grabbed her arm and held tight, nails digging in. “I want Ryan to see once and for all just how bourgeois you are.”
Angele was tempted to tear away from her and continue on to her room but feared it might look as though she were ashamed—which she wasn’t.
Clarice yanked her along to Ryan’s study, opened the door, and pushed her inside.
“Now tell him,” she commanded harshly as Ryan leaped to his feet, stunned by the intrusion. “Tell him what you were doing in the woods at this hour of night…and who you were with.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ryan’s study was one of Angele’s favorite rooms in the house. It was so masculine…so like him.
A huge stone fireplace was at one end, and the walls were adorned with mounted heads of wild boar, deer, and even a black bear. The air was fragrant with the scent of leather and tobacco, and there was a fluffy fur rug made of red fox pelts on the floor.
But Angele wasn’t thinking about how cozy the room was just then.
Ryan had known something was wrong when she and Clarice walked in. He immediately got up from the sofa and went to sit behind his desk before coolly asking, “Well? What’s this all about? How come you two are still up at this hour?”
Angele saw no reason to try to hide what she had done, especially since Clarice thought she had sneaked off for a clandestine rendezvous with some man. Besides, she was not feeling at all well. The nausea was getting worse. “I don’t know why Clarice is so upset,” she began. “All I did was walk back to where the Negroes were, because I heard their music.”
“Dear God,” Clarice moaned. “She was mingling with the slaves…” She clutched her chest, and Corbett moved quickly to help her to the sofa.
Stiffly, Angele challenged, “I see nothing wrong with that.”
“They should have told you it wasn’t proper,” Corbett said quietly. He looked at Ryan. “I’ll have Roscoe talk to them.”
“No, don’t do that,” Angele protested. “They did tell me I shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t their fault. I don’t want them getting in trouble because of me.”
“All that time,” Clarice wailed. “You were there all that time. Ryan, I know she was gone at least two hours, if not longer. This is terrible, just terrible. No Tremayne woman has ever done such a thing.”
Angele threw up her hands. “This is ridiculous. I did nothing wrong. I just watched them sing and dance, and I ate some dumplings, and—”
Clarice threw her head back on the sofa and wailed, “Merciful heavens, she even ate with them. The next thing we know, she’ll be inviting them to tea, and then she’ll want them to sit at the table with us. This cannot go on. It simply cannot.”
Ryan had been sitting with templed fingers, listening to everyone. Finally, he said, “Actually, I don’t see anything wrong with it. Before my father got down, he did the same thing. He’d join them when they cooked a catfish stew or killed a hog. I’ve been known to go back there for barbecue chicken once in a while, myself.” He smiled at the memory. “Nobody cooks chicken like Jasper.”
Once again, Angele felt like running and throwing her arms around his neck for taking her side but held back. Besides, Clarice had jumped up and ran to the desk to lean across and yell that even if he and his father had been back there, no Tremayne woman ever had—till now—and it was wrong and people would think scandalous things of Angele.
Ryan let her rave, and when she finally stopped to catch her breath, he turned to Angele. “I think you’d better stay away from there. Clarice is right. It isn’t proper for a woman to go down there, especially after dark, and socialize with them. I know how you feel, but that’s how it has to be.”
At that, Angele’s ire exploded. “This is just more of your family’s snobbery, Ryan.”
And, with that, she flounced out of the study, curtly dosing the door behind her.
The instant she was gone, Clarice demanded of Ryan, “Do you see now what I have to put up with? Insolence. Stubbornness. That girl just doesn’t care what people think. I only pray we get through this weekend without her doing something else to embarrass this family. I wish”—she paused to take a ragged breath—“that we weren’t even having a social. But your father insisted.”
Ryan regarded her coldly. “I know he did. He’s told me how he’s grown very fond of her, because she has mettle. She reminds him of my mother, because she was also a strong, spirited woman. So having Angele around makes him happy.”
“Well, she doesn’t make me happy.” Clarice got up from the sofa and poured herself a sherry, ignoring Corbett’s frown of disapproval. “And she’s going to be the death of me if you don’t see to it she behaves herself and does what I tell her to. Believe me, Ryan, I have tried, really tried, to help her. I like her, and I want to be her friend, but she obviously doesn’t feel the same toward me. She doesn’t care, and she’s not interested in learning anything I can teach her. She even told me she wished she’d never left France. She said if she had it to do over again, she wouldn’t have.”
“I was worried about that,” Corbett said as though he really were. He was also pleased that Clarice lied so well.
“Enough about Angele,” Ryan said wearily. “Now, tell me, Clarice—why did you invite Denise this weekend? I know she’s your cousin, but didn’t you think how awkward it might be?”
Clarice mustered an innocent look. “No, and I don’t think it will be. Besides, it would’ve caused talk to exclude her. After all, she’s always been invited to every function we’ve had at BelleRose for as long as I can remember. I’m sorry if you’re upset.”
Ryan sighed. “It’s too late to do anything about it now. Maybe it will be all right.”
“I’m sure it will. Now, I’d better go to bed, and you all should do the same. We all need to be up early.”
After she left, Corbett said, “Let’s have one more drink before we turn in.” He went to the sideboard and poured for both of them, then sat back down. “I’m sorry about Denise. Clarice didn’t tell me she was going to invite her, or I’d have said not to.”
Ryan was twirling his glass around and around on his desk, staring at the amber liquid. “I’ve got enough problems without adding another, but I’ll manage.”
“What do you mean?”
“That I wish sometimes I had listened to you.”
Corbett had just taken a sip of his drink and nearly choked. Coughing, sputtering, he finally managed to clear his throat, and, with eyes watering, croaked, “What did you say?”
“I said maybe I should have listened to you.”
“You mean you wish now you had proposed to Denise again?”
“No. I’m starting to wish I hadn’t m
arried Angele.”
Corbett quickly took another swallow of whiskey, afraid if he didn’t he was going to be grinning from ear to ear with joy. “But why? I mean, the two of you don’t get along? I didn’t know…”
“It’s not that.” Ryan gave a long, shuddering sigh. “I’ve just almost reached the conclusion she’s never going to fit into our world and be happy here.
“And it also bothers me,” he added, “how she kept it a secret she could speak English.”
Corbett wriggled deliciously in his seat, liking what he was hearing. “Then you think she might run away and go back to France?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe you’re worrying for nothing. She’s probably just having a hard time adjusting. She’ll settle down.” Corbett was amazed at himself for sounding so sympathetic.
“I hope so,” Ryan said quietly, soberly. “Because I don’t want her to go.”
Corbett felt a twinge of apprehension. “It would be embarrassing, I know, but not for long. After all, some people probably wouldn’t be surprised. Clarice says lots of folks think you only married Angele because you were upset over Denise turning you down.”
Ryan smirked. “And when have you ever known me to give a damn about gossip?”
Corbett felt a stronger twinge. “Then what are you saying?”
Ryan looked at him dismally. “I’m saying that I love her, Corbett…and I don’t want her to leave me.”
Corbett swallowed hard, fighting to maintain his composure. He hadn’t expected this, and it was quite a blow. He needed time to think before he messed up and said the wrong thing. “Everything will work out for the best. Now, maybe we’d better call it a day. We’ve got a busy weekend ahead of us.”
After Corbett left, Ryan had one more drink in the hope it would relax him, then went upstairs.
Entering the parlor, he turned toward his own room. He wanted Angele with every beat of his heart, but he feared his desire might make him weak. He might, God forbid, toss aside all resolve and tell her how much he loved her…how much he wanted her to stay with him forever. And, if she was planning to leave, it would only make matters worse.
And he didn’t want her pity.
He wanted her love.
He was almost to his door when he heard hers open. It had long since been repaired since the night he had kicked it open.
“Ryan?” she called softly. “Please, I need to speak with you.”
He did not turn around. “Can it wait till morning? It’s late, and I have to be up early.”
“No, it can’t.” She padded across the floor to stand directly behind him. “I’ve got something I want to say.”
He turned, his breath catching in his throat. She was wearing a white gossamer gown that revealed every curve of her luscious body. Gritting his teeth against his longing to take her in his arms, he managed to sound weary as he said, “All right, what it is?”
“First, I want to know if you’re angry with me about going to visit the servants.” She shuddered to add, “I can’t say the word you and your family use.”
He made no comment on that, though he didn’t like the word slave, either. “No, I’m not angry, but I meant what I said about your not going there again.”
“Because of Clarice.”
He hedged. “Well, it really isn’t proper.”
She pressed, “But mostly it’s because of Clarice, am I right?”
“Angele—”
She held up a hand. “No. Wait. I want you to be completely frank with me, Ryan. I’m of the opinion that you and your father are very compassionate toward the Negroes. You said you had both been to their compound at different times for barbecues and such, so I think if it weren’t for Clarice’s objection, you wouldn’t care. The Negroes treat me with respect. So it’s all because of her, isn’t it?”
“Let’s talk about this some other time.”
She stamped her foot, eyes flashing. “No. I’ve kept silent too long as it is. I’m sick and tired of the way Clarice treats me, and I want it to stop. She undermines everything I do.”
“Undermines?” he echoed. “Angele, all she wants is to help you learn our ways, but you resist at every turn. You sneak off when she’s not looking and disappear for hours on end. You’re insolent and rude to her—”
“That’s a lie!” she cried. “I knew it! Ryan, you have to listen—she’s the one who’s rude. She talks terribly to me, and—”
“Enough.” He caught her arms and gave her a gentle shake. “We’ve always had peace in this house, and it’s going to keep on being that way. Now, after this weekend, you, me, and Clarice are going to sit down and settle things. There’s no reason why you two can’t live under the same roof and be friends.”
Angele yanked from his grasp. “No reason except that she wants you to get rid of me so you can marry her cousin.”
“That’s not true. She’s told me how she’s trying very hard to get along, but her patience is wearing thin, because you refuse to cooperate.”
Angele decided she had gone too far to hold back any longer and plunged ahead to challenge, “Have you ever thought about why she and Corbett wanted you to marry Denise in the first place?”
He wondered what she was getting at but offered, “Because she’s Clarice’s cousin, I suppose.”
“No,” she said with resolve. “They wanted you to marry her so she could manipulate you, and Corbett would eventually take over BelleRose.”
It was a serious accusation, but he couldn’t help laughing. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Now why on earth would you say that? He’s my cousin, for God’s sake. He’s family. They both are.”
“That doesn’t matter. My uncle betrayed my father.”
Suddenly his interest was piqued. She had always resisted sharing anything to do with her family…her past. “Then tell me about it. I’d like to hear it.”
She saw no point in doing so. Besides, she would have to be so careful with details he would surely ask about. “I don’t like to talk about it. Just believe me when I say you can’t trust people just because you’re related to them.”
Disappointed that she had, again, thrown up a wall between them, it was easy for resentment to surface. “Unless you’re willing to substantiate your suspicions and accusations, this conversation is a waste of time. And I think you’re just annoyed with Clarice, anyway, because she caught you slipping out to the compound. But there’s no need in making trouble. Now, go to bed, and, as I said, the three of us will talk about it later.”
She looked at him for a long, searching moment, then said in defeat, “Why should we? You won’t believe anything I say, anyway.”
He pondered her words as he got ready for bed.
Maybe she was right, and, if so, it was her fault. She had, after all, given him so many reasons to doubt her.
Yet despite all that, there was no denying he loved her.
Roscoe grumbled as the pounding on his door grew louder. If it were one of the slaves waking him up in the middle of the night, they goddamn well better have a good reason.
“Wait a damned minute!” he roared over the sleepy buzzing in his head. “And stop that infernal pounding…”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood, and started shuffling across the floor in the darkness. It was a nice cabin. The Tremaynes always took care of their head overseer. There was a bedroom in the rear, and a sitting room between it and the office in front.
He didn’t do much in his office, because he wrote little and read hardly at all. But it made him look important, and he liked that.
But he didn’t like stumping his toe on his boots, which he’d left in the middle of the floor. Cursing, he stumbled the rest of the way to the door and yanked it open. “By damn, you better have a good reason for gettin’ me outta bed—”
“I sure as hell do.” Corbett pushed him aside as he entered.
Roscoe couldn’t see him. “Let me get a lantern going.”
<
br /> “No. I don’t want anybody to see a light and know you’re up. We can talk in the dark.”
“What’s so important it can’t wait till morning?”
“I want you to start watching Angele all the time. I want you to follow her everywhere she goes. I want to know who she talks to, who she sees.”
Roscoe liked that idea a lot. The new Mrs. Tremayne was real easy on the eyes. “Sure, but how come? You think she’s got a lover already? Kinda soon, ain’t it?”
“No, of course not,” Corbett snapped. “But I want to catch her doing something to make Ryan want to get rid of her. Just tonight Clarice caught her going to the slave compound.”
Roscoe was furious to hear that. “She’s got no business there.”
“No, but don’t try to stop her. Ryan told her not to do it again, so if she does, we need to know it.”
“And that’s all you want me to do—watch her?” Roscoe asked, then pointed out, “This could’ve waited.”
“No, it couldn’t, because I want you to get started first thing in the morning making sure you’re around her as much as possible without making her suspicious. Make friends with her if you can. See if you can get her to take you into her confidence.”
“I offered to take her riding.”
“Now what made you do that?” Corbett exploded. “That was impertinent, Roscoe. You’re the overseer, damn it. You don’t go around offering to take the ladies of the house riding.”
Roscoe grinned in the darkness. “Maybe I had in mind riding something besides horses. I mean, she does act kind of restless and bored.”
“I am not amused.”
“And I’m not trying to be funny,” Roscoe said lazily.
“Forget those kinds of notions. I’ve told you what I want you to do, and if you want to keep your job here, you’d better do it, because if we don’t get rid of that little bitch, she is going to get rid of us.”
Roscoe knew that was a distinct possibility and was not about to take any chances. “You don’t have to worry I won’t let that happen.”
“See that you don’t.”
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