by kps
There was no exchange of pleasantries between the two women who had been so close as Mara led the way from the entry to the long, timbered hall that served as the manor's banquet area. It was empty now of fittings for such an affair, and the sound of Mara's cane echoed against the flagstone floors. Jenny followed her to the three large chairs set before the massive fireplace that extended to the second story. A balcony circled the upper story, a flight of stairs leading down from the left wall.
Mara had settled in one of the chairs and indicated that Jenny should take the opposite, then waited With resigned patience. "I understand ... my child is here," Jenny said in a quiet voice so tight with tension, that Mara silently wondered at the restraint she showed in not screaming out an accusation. In her place, Mara would have. "Why would you do this to me
... to my baby?"
"Not to hurt you, my dear child, ne'r tha'!', Mara answered in a wounded whisper of a voice.
She had known this time of reckoning was inevitable and prepared herself, but the hurt and distrust in Jenny's face was still a painful burden to bear. "Ye must believe me when I say
'twas for the best, for the wee bairn's safety and ye'r peace of mind." There was an eloquent plea in her eyes for Jenny to try and understand.
But Jenny couldn't understand. She had spent a great deal of the afternoon and evening musing over the betrayal, trying to play the devil's advocate in an attempt to understand what possible reasons Mara would have had for the course of action she'd taken, and nothing had seemed to justify it. Jenny sighed now, wondering; was she such a fool that she couldn't judge who was worthy of trust and who wasn't? Or was the world full of people who no longer cared if others were hurt by their actions?
She looked steadily at Mara, ignoring the distress of this heartless, manipulative woman who had given her so much grief. "I cannot believe that," Jenny replied coldly. "My body nurtured that little boy, and it was I who endured the hours of pain that brought him into this world, not you. If he was in danger, which I don't believe, I should have been the one to decide whether to leave him in your care!"
"Mara made the choice with my approval," Dev declared from the top step of the balcony staircase. "And , since it was for my son's welfare, I had as much right to decide as you."
Jenny looked up at Dev with a calm that masked her racing heart, remembering Gilliam's advice to "keep a mask o'er our true feelin's or risk discovery."
"You're wrong," she replied, staring up at him with a coldness she could not hide, a resentment that was stronger than anything she'd ever felt for Rodrigo. She had loved him and he had hurt her so deeply that all she wanted was to hurt him now. "The hound who sires a pup and before its birth abandons the dam has forfeited his right to bay in triumphant paternity once it is whelped! Make your claims of fatherhood to someone else more gullible than I DevIan Cantrell ... the man who fathered my child no longer exists."
Dev started down the steps, then paused and leaned against the railing with a casual stance that belied his own intense desire for retribution. In a voice that matched hers for coldness, he sneered, "You have your terms confused, m'lady. If I am the hound, then you can be nothing else but a bitch, a term that suits you admirably." Then, at the shock that suffused Jenny's pale face with angry color, he smiled.
Twenty Three
Oh, dear! thought Mara to herself, this was definitely getting out of hand. Dev's abrupt appearance and the cutting remarks he and Jenny had exchanged were only increasing the stress-and the danger. If he had not interfered, she might have been able to explain her reasoning to Jenny, but now, as she could tell by the stubborn resistance on Jenny's face, she would not accept any excuses.
Dev came down the steps, taking them two at a time, , and bowed to Mara before he threw himself into the chair next to hers and scowled at Jenny. In turn, Jenny refused to acknowledge his presence, having decided she would not lend herself to a verbal battle with a man who was not worth the effort. For a few moments there was a strained silence, then Jenny addressed Mara. "I would have thought that you, at least, would have considered the morality, if not the illegality, of what was tantamount to a kidnapping of a helpless child!
Now I don't ever expect to understand your twisted reasoning, but unless my son is given back to me, Rodrigo will hear-"
" ... nothing!" Dev interrupted, tensing as he leaned forward in the chair and gave Jenny a look that said he questioned her sanity as well as her maternal competence.
"You're in no position to threaten anyone with the 'justice' your lover metes out. It was because of him that we decided to protect Jared by keeping him here. Of course you'd rather play mama and be damned to any harm you might bring him!" Dev's mouth twisted to one side in a cynical smirk. "I thought it was instinctive to all mothers to protect their young from harm but you-"
"Shut up!" Jenny yelled, forgetting that she'd meant to ignore him, and losing the self-control she'd striven so hard to maintain. She straightened in the chair, tilting her head up as she challenged his right to judge her, a flare of blue, fiery animosity in her eyes. "You great, hulking coward, yes, I said coward ,a man who was so afraid of Rodrigo's 'justice' that he had to hide on an island rather than attempt to free the woman who was carrying his child , my child's name is not Jared, though I admire the sentiment you still retain for my father. His name is Nicholas, and it will stay Nicholas!"
Mara was studying the two during the current battle in their war of wills. The blazing antagonism between the two no doubt covered deeply wounded pride, and with the wisdom of her advanced years, Mara knew that where such bitterness existed, it had its source in a stronger emotion ... love. If they could ever stop their quarreling long enough to realize that, both of them would win the battle.
Drawing in a deep breath, Jenny continued. "Secondly, my maternal instincts are quite sharply honed, thank you, and I am more than able to protect my child from anyone who's a threat to his welfare! And finally-"
"Finally, I think it's about time you shut up," Dev snapped, his expression as stubbornly set as Jenny's. "Just what would you have done if you took the boy back to the castle and your husband decided to use him as a hostage, say, if he didn't think you were telling him everything you saw in that fortune-telling crystal he's got?" Jenny looked up, torn by indecision, wanting to deny the possibility, and yet realizing the merits of the argument. Dev pounced on the opening he'd dug in her confidence. "If you'd thought with your head, like you used to, instead of with your emotions, you'd have realized Rodrigo wouldn't think twice about hurting Jared to get back at you."
"Nicholas," Jenny replied, embarrassed that she hadn't considered the threat Rodrigo posed to her son, but still unwilling to give in to Devon any point. "When you have a son by some other woman, you may call him what you like, but my little boy's name is Nick!"
Mara raised her cane and pounded it on the stone flooring to gain the attention of both contending parties. "Now, ye're both actin' like babies ye'rselves!" she declared angrily, glaring at one, then the other. "I've a mind to be keepin' the poor bairn m'self to raise, seein'
as how his two parents canna e'en agree on such a simple matter as his proper name. Since neither of ye is willin' to budge an inch, I suggest ye call him Thomas and leave the subject closed. Be there any objections to tha' fine old name?"
Jenny wavered, still wanting to have her way, and Dev seized on her hesitation to announce that it was fine with him, but added, "If you're still insisting Jenny's some long, lost love of mine, though, I reject that," and he grinned as he saw Jenny's head rise, "on the grounds that such a long standing desire on my part would be evidence of insanity!" She wasn't sure what he was referring to, but Jenny took spiteful advantage of the opening he'd given her to smile back at him and claim, "That's the first time tonight you've said anything that makes sense!" Then she turned to face Lady Mara, asking what nonsense Dev was referring to in his mention of a long-lost love.
"Do ye nae remember the visions ye had when labor cam
e on, lass?" Mara answered with a question of her own. "Ye told me later that ye'd seen Devlan here and Sir Thomas, all mixed in the same dream. And some o' the things ye said were quotes from Thomas's diary, a document ye'd ne'r ever seen. And if, as I believe, ye are Lady Elainn come again, 'tis a fulfillment of a prophecy tha' was made o'er five hundred years ago."
Jenny appeared skeptical about the whole concept, but she was quiet for a moment..
remembering the theory she'd read about reincarnation in the book on dreams, remembering Dev's jealous accusations on the deck of the clipper when he'd complained of her speaking the name Thomas in her sleep, and recalling what she could of the hazy, unsettling vision of Sir Thomas's face as she, apparently, bade him farewell in a flower-strewn glen in medieval Scotland.
Dev smugly watched Jenny struggle against believing what he'd already accepted as possible.
There was no other way to explain how she'd repeated words that were spoken so long ago by Thomas's mistress when Mara swore Jenny'd never seen the manuscript. He, too, recalled the memory of his jealousy aboard ship; and, in context, now it seemed wholly logical that, as she physically drew nearer to the spot that Thomas had settled, the long-buried memories of her love for him had surfaced in her dreams.
Even in the disguise she'd chosen to wear, Jenny was beautiful; and in the four weeks since he'd seen her last, she'd lost the extra weight she'd carried with the baby. Dev found himself musing over what Elainn had looked like, wondering if she could have been as lovely or, perhaps, just striking in a different way. Despite the tender way he'd alluded to Elainn in his chronicles, Thomas had never given a physical description of her features.
"Do ye see now, why I did wha' I did?" Mara appealed to Jenny. "Elainn had a rare power in the gift o' second sight. If ye have the same ..." she interruped her own speech with a sudden question that had occurred to her. "Has Rodrigo had ye try the crystal since the bairn's birth?" Jenny shook her head, admitting wryly that her husband had been unusually solicitous of her since then and had kept his distance, unwilling to push her to do anything.
Mara thought for a moment, then explained the reason behind her query. "I think ye'll find a vast difference in the range of ye'r visions now. I've a theory tha' it was ye'r pregnancy tha'
interfered wi' the sight, and 'twas one of my reasons for the tale 'bout the baby's death."
"You think that I wouldn't have been able to conceal such broader visions from him and that if I'd tried to, he would have held my son's life in peril, to force it from me?" Jenny was still doubtful-so much of what Mara had said was conjecture. But she had acted out of concern for the baby's welfare, of that much she was sure.
"I am nae askin' for approval, child, just understandin'. 'Twas a hard choice t' make, one o'
the hardest of m' long life. I be glad, though, tha' Gilliam took it 'pon himself to reveal the truth to ye and truly, lass, wish there had na been a need for such deceit." Mara suddenly looked her age, burdened by sadness, but Jenny's forgiveness would have to come later.
Now she was still too hurt to offer any comfort that would ease the responsibility weighing so heavily on the old woman's shoulders.
With a great deal of effort, Mara rose to her feet. "I am oh so tired now-a lassie my age must get her rest, ye know! Ye must have a great deal to be discussin' in private, so I'll take my leave of ye." Then she refused Dev's offer to escort her upstairs, and for minutes the only sound to be heard was the steady tapping of her cane as Mara made a slow but graceful passage from the great hall.
It was more than just a passage of time that created the long, uneasy silence that followed Mara's exit. Dev got up from his chair and walked over to the table where Dugal had left a tray with three glasses and a bottle of wine, pulled the cork on it, and filled two of the glasses with the dark ruby liquid, coming back to hand one to Jenny.
"Thank you," she said in a distantly polite tone, glancing up briefly at him before she took several deep swallows.
"I don't remember your being much of a drinker, Jen," Dev commented caustically. Jenny looked up sharply at the implied criticism and almost defiantly took another sip.
"I've never had much reason to before now. Even you must admit that what I've discovered tonight was a shock. I was only just beginning to accept Nichol-"
"You mean Thomas," Dev corrected.
Jenny looked up with a slight frown. "Yes, of course. As I was saying, I'd finally accepted his death and yours. Then out of the blue, Gilliam told me that he was alive." Jenny swallowed the last of her wine, looking surprised that she'd finished it so quickly. "I'd never have believed Mara could be responsible for such a charade. By this time, you'd think I'd have learned whom to trust," she said, glancing up with a half-lidded look of accusation, "and whom not to trust."
Dev reached down and jerked the glass from her hand, threw back his head to toss off the rest of his wine, and then stalked over to the table to set the glasses down. "Well, so far your judgment hasn't been too keen, I'll admit to that much. I suppose Rodrigo inspires your trust, hmm?" He turned from the table and glowered in her direction.
"No, he does notl" Jenny retorted, her irritation with the discussion betrayed by the rise in her tone of voice. She stood up, about to insist that, since no good would come of it, they end their talk and found herself dizzy, as the full effect of the wine left her weak and lightheaded. Dev was at her side immediately, and she puzzled over how fast he'd moved, then frowned again as his hand settled under her arm for support. "But we do have a very clear understanding of each other and the relationship we share. You have both claimed to love me, but at least I can recognize when Rodrigo is lying!'"
Dev's fingers tightened around her forearm, and his face was transfigured by such a sudden fury that Jenny thought for a moment that he would strike her. "And, in the dark," he smirked, "can you tell the difference in the way we make love to you? Maybe he whispers sweet nothings in Spanish, eh ... or doesn't it matter at all as long as there's something hard and satisfying between your thighs, as long as-"
"Stop it," Jenny yelled, struggling to free herself from his grip. "Let go of me! You have no right-"
The last of his self-control slipped away at that claim from Jenny. He was the father of her child, and she'd told him he had no right to that privilege, he was her husband and yet he had no right to touch her. He was damned tired of hearing her define what his rights were.
Careless of the fact that he was hurting her, he jerked her forward, slipped his right arm around her shoulders, and caught her body against his, firmly grasping the slim column of her neck as fingers clutched a handful of curls at her nape. "You married me," he said hoarsely, lowering his head until his lips were a breath away from her mouth, "and that gives me the right!"
"No ..." Jenny's protest was cut off as Dev's mouth touched hers, then ground against its softness with relentless pressure until she surrendered and parted her bruised lips, fighting the stir of pleasure she felt as his tongue invaded and vanquished her defiance. Caught up by her body's betrayal to her spiraling senses, Jenny melted against him. Dev felt her response as the stiff resistance flowed out of her and, still cupping the back of her head with his right hand, he loosed her arm to slide his left hand down her back and curve his hand beneath the firm, rounded flesh of her derriere. Every inch of their bodies was touching, and Dev knew a moment of triumph as he pressed closer still and Jenny sucked in a deep breath as the prominent swell of his yearning flesh prodded her belly through the thin layers of their clothing.
His first thought in pulling her into his arms had been to submit her to a kind of punishment for all the hurt she'd dealt him, but that had fled all too quickly as a bittersweet longing replaced vengeance. He could think of nothing when the full softness of her breasts was crushed against his chest, when the familiar contours of her body were molded so closely against his that they seemed to be one shape.
Too late to reject it, the unbidden image of Jenny in Rodrigo's arms floated be
fore his closed eyes, and he silently cursed his desire to have her back. Even as he broke away from the sweetness of her mouth and buried his head against the scented, ebony waves that curled forward around her throat, he groaned against a torturing vision. He saw Jenny lying naked on a bed, her pale, velvet skin a shocking contrast against the dark, swarthy color of Rodrigo's body as he moved against her, as his hands roamed in trespass over the body of the woman Dev had thought was his. Had thought was his, he brooded, and his brooding was translated into the physical as his gentle caresses became 'rough, impatient fondling.
Jenny had lost a sense of time and place. She cared about nothing but the delight of being in Dev's arms again and the passionate answer of her body to the feel of his hands, to the hard, familiar length of his body. He still wanted her; it was something that he couldn't disguise, even if his voice had been harsh, and his jealousy had erupted in that vulgar reference.
Suddenly Jenny realized the change in Dev's manner, and a feeling akin to fear pulsed through her entire body. It was as if a different man held her, a stranger intent only on his own gratification. As one of his hands firmly gripped the back of her neck, her head was bent back under a bruising, lust-filled kiss and his other hand slipped into the neckline of the jerkin, to maul the tender flesh of her breasts through the thin material of the linen shirt.
She could not breathe, and she struggled against Dev's iron grip, but it only seemed to add to his pleasure. She was held too closely to even kick out at him, and she was no match for the power of the corded, sinewy muscles that crushed her body to his. Marshalling every ounce of strength she possessed, Jenny pushed at his chest with one hand, brought the other up to the warm, bare flesh of his nape, and dug her fingernails into his skin.
