His concern undid her, and she found herself wrapped in his arms as she sobbed against his chest. When she had gained control of herself, she drew away self-consciously. “Why didn’t you tell me it was my mother who had come?” she demanded.
Patrick sighed. Pain crossed his face, but he looked her in the eye. “Because I was hurt that you’d spent the night with Howard Granger. I thought you were decent, Beth.”
She sputtered, her hurt giving way to rage. “Decent, is it! I love Sir Howard. Can you say the same about the doxies you’ve bedded? I know how you ride into Athlone for a night of sport at the whorehouse, so don’t you be judging me, Patrick Lacey!”
He reached out for her, but she pushed him away and ran in the direction of the manor, leaving him standing alone in the meadow. Deciding not to follow her, he went to his chores. But his regret for insulting her was nothing in comparison to the knowledge that she loved Howard Granger.
~
Allison gathered the wild flowers and heather which bloomed on the hillside, gently placing them in her basket. Her sketch book lay beside it, and she wished she had time to capture their images on paper, but it was nearly nightfall. A fall breeze caressed her face as she walked toward the house. After supper she’d complete sketches of the flowers she had picked.
A horse and rider caught her attention, but it wasn’t until he came closer that she recognized Howard Granger. “Good evening to you, Mrs. Flanders,” he said politely but there was a strange hardness in his voice, which was unlike him. “And congratulations on your recent marriage.”
“I wondered if you were ever going to visit again; Paul and I have been home for months. Don’t be so formal,” she said. “You can still call me by my Christian name.”
He smiled as if he had won a minor victory. “I shall, Allison. How is your husband?”
She looked up at him, growing uncomfortable because he hadn’t dismounted. “Paul is busy with the tenant farmers today, but he’ll be home tonight if you wish to call.”
“How kind,” he said coldly. “But I know the estate takes up a great deal of energy and Paul will no doubt be tired. Some other time.”
“As you wish.”
He turned his horse, then looked back at her. “Constance sends her regards. Please convey them to Paul.”
“How sweet,” Allison murmured, but knew she wouldn’t relay the message.
When she returned to the house, she found Beth and a haggard looking woman awaiting her. She placed her basket on the dining room table and smiled at them. Beth curtsied.
“Miss Allison, this is my-mother,” Beth said, a definite chill in her voice. “She wishes to work in the manor.”
“My name’s Peg, ma’am, and I’d do a capable job for you,” the woman said.
“I’m certain you would.” Allison masked her surprise by maintaining an unreadable expression, but she keenly sensed Beth’s embarrassment and discomfort. “Have you had any experience doing kitchen work?”
“Aye, ma’am.”
“Good. Then go tell Hester in the kitchen that you will start in the morning.”
Peg curtsied and thanked her, then hurried off while Beth lingered. “I’m sorry she asked for work, but she has nothing else.”
“I understand, but I’m quite surprised that she has returned after all this time.”
Beth folded her arms across her breasts. “She came back expecting to find me wed so she could sit all day in my cottage and do nothing. Well, Mrs. Lacey won’t have a good for-nothing in her home, so she had to find some work though she claims to be ailing.”
Allison took Beth’s hand and smiled her understanding. “Explanations aren’t necessary.”
Beth’s eyes misted suddenly. “You’re just too good, Miss Allison!”
Allison looked carefully at Beth and saw the girl had suddenly turned pale as chalk. “Are you well?” she asked in concern.
“Aye,” she answered but her voice was low and strained. “I’ll be on my way now.” She paused. “Her ladyship has been uncooperative today. At least that’s what Katie told me.”
Beth’s pallor was forgotten as Allison went upstairs to visit Cecelia. “How is she today?” Allison inquired of Katie, the woman who took care of her aunt.
Katie shook her head. “Not well,” she whispered. “Seems like she’s lost the will to live, ma’am. Barely eats anything and is wasting away to nothing.”
Cecelia’s skeletal thinness was evident even though many blankets covered her. She was sleeping and Allison decided not to disturb her. She left her aunt to Katie’s care and with Beth’s help, she dressed for dinner. Swishing down the staircase in her royal blue gown, she nearly bumped into Paul who was just coming through the library doors.
“I thought I’d be the one who was late for supper,” she said in lieu of a greeting, and smiled warmly.
There was a distracted expression on Paul’s face, as if his thoughts had been elsewhere and she had brought him back to reality. “There were many matters that needed my attention, and I had to convince the tenants that change will come soon to the estate.”
“What sort of change?” she asked, puzzled.
“Living conditions, my dear. Or haven’t you noticed, cloistered here in the manor, how your tenants live? The Fairfaxes haven’t been the most humane of landlords, and I intend to remedy that.”
“But, Paul, why make any changes? This is how they’ve lived for generations.”
He grabbed her arm, and she fell silent, frightened by his dark, angry expression. “I thought you were different, Allison, but I see you are the same as Cecelia and all the Fairfaxes before you. In your heart, you consider yourself better than the lowly Irish.”
“That’s not true,” she cried, fear spreading inside her. “I care a great deal about our people!”
“How noble, but you’re voicing hollow sentiments. Do you love the Irish, Allison? Do you care for the downtrodden?”
“Of course.”
“Would you welcome an Irishman in your bed?”
She colored fiercely as the blood pounded in her temples. The man standing before her looked like her beloved Paul, but bitterness disfigured his features. “I don’t like this turn of conversation. Please, let us eat and have a pleasant evening.”
“Answer me, Allison!”
“This is absurd! I’m married to you, not to some paddie who works in the fields!”
He smiled, but his anger was not tempered with amusement. “You really are a Fairfax mouthing Fairfax words. I had honestly thought you were a breed apart, but I see now I was mistaken. I know you don’t understand. You have no conception of what I’m talking about, but one day you will, and on that day you’ll be sorry.” He pulled her against him in a quick decisive hold and kissed her roughly. Pushing the top of her gown down, he exposed her breasts to his wandering hands.
Now she was actually trembling, and attempted to move away from him, but he held her fast. “Paul, not here in the hallway! The servants…” she moaned.
“To hell with them! They’re only lowly Irish, and have no deep thoughts, no delicate feelings like you, my Fairfax love.”
He lowered her onto the cold, stone floor. His mouth pressed viciously upon hers. If this man hadn’t been her husband, she’d have screamed for help. Paul’s mouth, his hands were everywhere upon her. Then she felt him lift her gown and tug at her chemise.
“Paul, Paul!” she cried and pushed against him, unable to believe this was happening to her. It was almost as if he didn’t really see her or hear her. She grabbed at his hands and stilled them, and somehow her touch upon him caused him to grow quiet and return to the reality of what he was doing.
He looked at her finally, as if saw her for the first time.
“Allison,” he groaned and raised himself off her. He pulled down her dress, and she scrambled from beneath him, too stunned to say anything. Never in her life had she felt so confused, even fearful. What had happened to cause this? She quickly rearranged her clot
hing and stood up.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a raw voice, his eyes begging her for forgiveness. She needed distance between them at the moment and hurriedly she ascended the stairs, went to her room, and bolted the door.
9
“I am truly sorry about last night,” Paul apologized again over the breakfast table the following morning. He leaned forward in his chair, his dark eyes searching Allison’s face for some sign that she had forgiven him. But he saw nothing but blankness. All his life he had been able to twist women around his finger, starting with his mother and then his mother’s friend Anna, who had been almost like a second mother to him. Women quickly forgave him anything when he used his charm. However, he didn’t think it would work to his advantage now. Clearly, Allison had been badly shaken, and he sincerely regretted his behavior.
She turned her face toward his, coldly appraising him. “What, may I ask, caused such behavior?”
“I detest the conditions under which your tenants live, the total disregard for their welfare, and I suppose I blamed you for that since your family is enriched by their poverty.”
“Ah, the sins of the fathers.” She shot a withering glance.
His face shone with a steadfast purpose. “I am determined to make life more tolerable for these people.”
Suddenly her expression softened. “I shall not interfere, Paul.” She stood up, and he was instantly beside her.
“Forgive me, Allison.” He took her stiff body in his arms, hoping to melt her resistance. He had never before been denied anything he wanted. “I’ve never in my life begged a woman for forgiveness.”
“Paul, I knew so very little about you when we married,” she said in a shaky voice,” and I still know nothing more than your name. Sometimes you—frighten me.”
He inhaled deeply, his mouth twisting into a grimace. “Again, my love, I apologize.”
“I gather it’s very hard for you to confide in me. Perhaps I was a fool for marrying you. Whenever I ask if you love me, you never really answer, and it hurts terribly. I believe you enjoy having power over my body and my emotions. I think I now know the answer to that question.”
She looked so lovely standing before him in a dress the color of an autumn sunset, and he was moved by her pain. But he couldn’t reach out to her or assuage her hurt. It wouldn’t be fair to give her false hope despite the stirrings of passion within him. Allison was the niece of the man who had taken his father’s property, his birthright. To actually fall in love with her was unthinkable.
He picked up his riding crop, his light colored shirt enhancing the bronzed hue of his face. “I must attend to my duties, my love. We can discuss this some other time.”
“As you wish,” she said, trembling violently, “but my bedroom door remains locked to you.”
He stopped just inside the doorway, and for a split second, a torturous pain ripped through his insides. However, he managed a devastating smile. “You are the lady of the manor, dear heart, and may lock your door to me, but if you do, I shall seek comfort from other quarters. By the way, I wrote to my parents months ago. Expect their arrival at some point in the future.”
~
Beth and Peg crossed the fields as they made their way to the Laceys for supper. Beth knew she’d have no appetite, as she had cared very little for food the last few weeks. Maeve Lacey had insisted they join them for the evening meal, and Beth guessed she was again trying to make a match between herself and Patrick.
Paul Flanders passed them at a distance, his blonde hair blowing free in the wind and looking arrogant and handsome on a horse as dark as pitch. Suddenly Peg stopped, seemingly stunned at the sight. “Quint,” she breathed through colorless lips.
Puzzled, Beth looked to make certain that her mother’s gaze wasn’t on someone else. “That’s Mr. Paul, the one who married Miss Allison,” she said.
“Is it?” Peg asked weakly, then turned away. “He looks like someone I knew … a long time ago.”
“Miss Allison is lucky to have such a handsome husband.” Beth sighed.
“Aye.” Peg recovered herself and they continued on their way. “What about you and Patrick?”
“I don’t love him.”
Peg sniffed. “Well, a body would never know it to look at you, girl. Whenever you’re around him, your eyes follow him.”
“That’s not true! Anyway, what would you be knowing about it? You’ve only been here a short time and only want me to be wed so you can sit idle all day!” Beth hated thinking about Patrick, yet that strange feeling always seeped into her blood when he was near. She hated to admit she did secretly watch him. She enjoyed looking at him because he was so muscular and unaware of his virile good looks.
A sly look passed over Peg’s face. “You better get the lad to marry you, girl. Otherwise, your babe will be born without a name!”
Beth stopped in her tracks, incredulous. “I-I’m not with child,” she stammered.
Peg shook her head. “I saw how you were throwing up your insides in the pantry the other day, and you’ve got the look a woman gets when the seed is planted. Aye, you’ll soon be a mother, so you’d best get your Patrick to the altar so you don’t end up like your own ma.” Walking on, Peg left Beth alone in the meadow.
Beth stared after the older woman in disbelief. I can’t be with child, she said to herself over and over, but she feared Peg was right. She did have all the symptoms but hadn’t wanted to admit it. She mentally calculated that her last flux had been two months past. Sinking onto the soft grass, she swallowed hard as a knot formed in her throat. She’d have to tell Howard. How would he react?
Once the shock wore off, she got up and walked towards the Laceys’ cottage. A feeling of joy began to replace her earlier dread and incredulity. She loved Howard and would be proud to bear his child. She decided he must love her. Perhaps he’d even marry her…
10
Allison’s new relatives arrived at Fairfax Manor on a cold afternoon, just as the sun set above the mountains, bathing the land in a golden glow. No sooner had they descended from the carriage than she was enfolded in the warm arms of Paul’s mother and greeted affectionately, as if she had known the woman all her life. His brother kissed her shyly on the cheek, but Paul’s father only wished her well, a stony look clearly etched on his face. If it hadn’t been for Cecelia’s expert staff, Allison would never have been able to cope. Though she had known in advance of their possible arrival, she felt unprepared and not at all like mistress of the manor. However, after supper that night when they sat in the drawing room and drank warming liqueurs before the blazing hearth, she relaxed enough to converse and discovered that she truly liked Mrs. Flanders and Daniel. However, her father-in-law eyed her with what she feared was cold contempt.
“Was the voyage pleasant?” Allison asked Dera.
“Yes, it passed much more smoothly than I remembered from the first time I made the trip.”
“You have traveled across the ocean before? Was it on a trip from Ireland?” Allison asked innocently, not knowing that Dera had fled Fairfax Manor with the Frenchman she later married after Cecelia had cheated her out of her inheritance as Avery Fairfax’s widow. Dera’s downcast eyes and burning face gave Allison cause to wish she had never inquired.
“Yes,” was the only answer Dera made.
Allison looked in perplexity and confusion at everyone else, feeling Paul’s gaze on her and wishing she were safe in her room. Daniel broke the embarrassed silence.
“Mother has never been much of a traveler since she arrived in Louisiana. She’s a homebody and quite content to live her life at Green Meadows, our home.”
Allison smiled brightly at Daniel, grateful that he had extricated her from a puzzling faux pas. “Paul has told me many times how lovely Louisiana is. I should like to see it someday.”
“Whenever Paul decides to share you with us for a visit, I’ll personally take you on a tour of the house and grounds. I know you’d love New Orleans, too. I’m sure a wom
an like you would respond to its exotic beauty and lushness, Allison.” Daniel’s appraising eyes swept over her face, and she found herself warming more to him by the moment because she was sure his compliments were sincere. She wondered why his elder brother couldn’t be as unassuming and charming.
Paul left his place by the fireplace and came to sit beside her. “You must excuse Daniel’s enthusiasm, my dear. He’s still very young.”
Hot color burned Daniel’s face. Though Allison had seen the affection between the two brothers earlier in the evening, she now felt she had unexpectedly become a source of contention between them. Quint roused from his sullen contemplation of her and spoke to Dera. “Let’s be getting to bed, now, Dera. I’d like to rest.”
Immediately Dera rose to her feet, and Allison sensed she was grateful not to answer any more questions. After they withdrew and went upstairs, Allison turned to Paul. “I had no idea your parents were Irish.”
Paul’s brows shot up. “Whatever makes you think that?”
“I’ve lived among the Irish long enough to recognize an Irish accent when I hear one, no matter how slight. Your mother speaks that way, too. Are they ashamed of their heritage?”
Daniel got up and moved uneasily about the room while Paul sat casually, barely moving a muscle. “No. They are Irish and proud of their lineage.”
The conversation between herself and Paul the night he had almost forced himself upon her came back to her. He had asked her if she would welcome an Irishman into her bed, and she had unwittingly insulted him by calling his people “paddies.” She remembered he had told her one day she’d be sorry, and now she felt like a complete fool.
“I wish you’d told me,” she said coolly.
He spoke with a trace of bitterness in his voice. “My love, I doubt it would have made a great deal of difference to you.”
Biting her lip, she looked away and noticed the harsh set to Daniel’s mouth. Had she somehow stupidly insulted him, too? Placing her glass on a table, she rose. “I have some sketches I’d like to do before I retire. If you’ll both excuse me…”
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