Lucas squeezed his hand that was held in hers.
She opened her eyes and met his gaze, as though gaining strength from his quiet presence. “He pushed me into a corner one night. Touched me. Told me that was just the appetizer for what he had planned for me. That he couldn’t wait to hear me cry out in pain …” She stopped as her breaths were gasps now, and her eyes were a mirror to the panic and desperation she had felt that evening.
Lucas clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times before he spoke. His voice was deeper and softer. “He touched you under your skirts?” At her quick nod, his eyes flashed. “Did he hurt you?”
“It hurt,” she whispered. “The more I fought him, the more he enjoyed it.” She flinched as Lucas growled.
“When? When did this happen, Vivie?” He raised his other hand and softly touched her face.
“Three days before we left. The day before you agreed to our crazy arrangement. I was to marry him within the week. He didn’t see any reason he shouldn’t already have access to me.” She heaved out a heavy breath as her sobs subsided.
“Thus the end of November, as we left the second.”
“It was my last ball with my friends. I thought to enjoy myself,” she said, lowering her head as though in shame.
“And he stole that from you too.” Lucas sighed and eased away, onto the edge of the bed. “Did he force himself on you, Vivie?” At her confused stare, he whispered, “Did he rape you?”
She shook her head and met his devastated gaze. “No! No, he touched me and it was awful and awkward and it hurt. He called me his treasure,” she said, darting a glance at him and seeing he remembered his words.
“I can’t promise I won’t say things that remind you of him. I will try not to use that particular word again.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I wish things had been different for you, Vivie. I wish you’d only known pleasure at a man’s touch.” He frowned as Genevieve blushed. “Did Parthena not explain to you what would happen on your wedding night?” His brow furrowed with confusion as her flush spread.
“She tried to tell me what would happen. To explain. But it sounded so strange.”
Lucas huffed out a laugh. “I guess when you put into words what happens and what goes where, it does sound strange. But, when you’re in the midst of it, it’s quite enjoyable.” He smiled at her as she fought an answering grin. “Why wouldn’t you ask your sister more questions?”
She rolled her eyes and released his hand. After blowing her nose, she glared at him. “Do you believe I wanted advice on how to please my husband from the woman who threw you over?”
Lucas recoiled at her words.
She raised a hand to prevent any half-hearted protestations. “I know that you two were involved. That it broke her heart to call it off with you. I saw you, moping around ballrooms, tracking her with your lovesick gaze after she married Morgan.”
“Vivie, that was six months ago,” he murmured.
“Yes, and I know it can take much longer than that to get over a true love. At least it does in the novels I read.” She tilted her head defiantly. “I wish … I wish they’d found someone else to squirrel me out of Boston to safety.”
Lucas paled and stiffened with affront. “Forgive me if I’ve failed to be what you desire.”
Genevieve rubbed at her cheeks and the tears that continued to sporadically fall. “Don’t you understand? I want someone to want me for me. Not because he’s doing a favor for my sister.” She looked down and brushed at her flannel nightdress.
“We can divorce,” Lucas choked out. “Hell, we can annul the marriage as nothing’s happened.”
She wiped her face with both hands, her shoulders stooped in defeat. “Is that what you want?”
Lucas looked at her from head to toe. Her long brown hair a riotous mess over her shoulders. Her deep-brown eyes with those long eyelashes, which too often hid her inquisitive mind and sharp wit. Her highly arched eyebrows that frequently betrayed her true emotions, especially when she was annoyed. Her small nose, reddened from crying, and wide mouth, currently turned down in a half frown. Her slight shoulders that carried heavy burdens with little complaint. Her shapely figure, half hidden by the hideous nightgown.
He cleared his throat. “No, that’s not what I want. I’ve sat here, thinking through much of what you said tonight, and, as usual, the majority was cryptic.” He rose and moved to the other side of the room.
She watched him with startled, devastated eyes as he walked away from her.
He hefted an armchair and moved it in front of her vanity. “If we are having this conversation, I want to be comfortable,” he muttered.
“You and your comfort,” she said, and they shared a small smile.
“Vivie, I fear you believe I’m ashamed of you or of myself for our marriage. You couldn’t be more wrong. I’m glad we married. In the few short weeks we’ve been together, I’ve enjoyed our time as husband and wife. There are, of course, activities I will remain hopeful we engage in together.” His teasing words roused a fetching blush not borne of shame, and he smiled. “You understand my need to compose, to practice the piano, and are not offended by my artistic moods.” He shrugged. “Well, at least not yet.”
“Why are you upset your family is coming to Butte?”
He tapped his fingers on his armchair. “There are few people in this world whose opinions I value. They are coming to Butte tomorrow. And I am nervous.”
“Because of me?”
“Because our marriage isn’t as I wish it were. Not yet, at least, but with more time …” He whispered, “My sister and cousin married for love.”
The soft flush on her cheeks drained away, and any joy from her eyes faded. “We don’t love each other.”
He cringed at her words. “Thank you for speaking so bluntly.”
She failed to smile at his attempt at wry humor.
“I fear they may see the difference. I do care for you, Vivie. I hope you care for me.”
She paled further and inadvertently shook her head as she whispered, “I … no …” She rose and moved to the bed. Turning away from him, she slipped from her flannel robe and slid under the covers. Lucas stared at her with a perplexed gaze as she settled on the bed, under the covers, her back to him, yet noting that sleep eluded her.
He rose and redressed, although he skipped the waistcoat. “I’ll not disturb you further, Vivie,” he whispered as he departed their room. He slipped through the door, the resounding click echoing through their room.
Chapter 6
Lucas stared at the Christmas tree in Patrick’s house, the candles unlit on the branches, and piles of presents under the tree. He held little Rose in his arms, and she pulled on a branch, giggling at the prickly feel of the pine needles on her fingers. “That’s it, darling. Touch the tree softly,” he encouraged. “You wouldn’t want to topple it over with your strength.”
He heard a laugh behind him and turned to see Fiona watching them. “Not after it took her father so long to erect the poor thing.” She turned from the tree to face Lucas. “Hello, Lucas. I’m delighted you are here with us to celebrate Christmas.”
Lucas smiled back as he rested his cheek on Rose’s soft hair. “Thank you for agreeing to the descending horde. It won’t be easy having all of us here.”
“There’s nothing more worthwhile than time with family. If a house is full of family, then ’tis a happy home.” She smiled at Lucas. “Your wife has been a tremendous help.”
Lucas’s smile dimmed, but he attempted to force good cheer. “I’m glad she knows her way around a kitchen.” He spun as the front door opened, cocking his head as he heard numerous voices. Fiona approached, taking Rose from his arms, calling out hello as she moved through the hallway into the kitchen. He tiptoed to the entryway, stilling as his family burst into the warm house out of the cold. Patrick stood to one side, his arms filling with coats, hats, and scarves.
“I’d forgotten how cold it is here in winter. It’s at least
twenty degrees colder here than in Missoula,” Gabriel McLeod said as he helped a small person out of a jacket. He shook his head, flicking snow from his ebony hair, exposing his ears reddened from the cold.
“Well, we are a mile high,” Patrick murmured.
“And the wind! I thought it would blow the train off track.”
Lucas closed his eyes at his sister Savannah’s voice.
“Melly, no snowballs in the house!”
He opened his eyes as the door remained ajar, and her husband, Jeremy McLeod, chuckled and tossed the snowball back outside. He stood almost as tall as his brother, although he seemed a bit lankier than Gabriel.
“I need to sit down,” Clarissa said with a grunt, and then her arms were in the air as she attempted to disentangle herself from a long scarf.
A woman near her took off her hat, revealing thick sable-colored hair, and he recognized Araminta. She helped Clarissa with the scarf, her words lost in the boisterous group, but causing Clarissa to laugh.
“That’s what you get for wearing a scarf you knitted yourself,” Colin teased. He hefted a child on one hip, his smile wide and open. He looked toward the living room and stilled, his light-blue eyes lit with shock. “What? How are you here?”
At his question, the uncontrolled chaos from the entryway quieted, and everyone turned first to Colin and then in the direction of his gaze. True pandemonium erupted in that instant as everyone charged Lucas. He shook Colin’s hand before he was thrust aside for a long hug from Savannah.
“Oh, how could you do this? What a wonderful surprise,” she said as she bit back tears and kissed him on his cheek before pulling him close for another hug.
Jeremy slapped him on the back, and Gabriel winked at him as he helped his youngest daughter, Myrtle, out of her boots. Clarissa waddled toward Lucas, heavy with child. He leaned forward and embraced her.
“Oh, what a glorious day!” she whispered as she fought tears. “Ignore me. I cry constantly now that the birth nears.”
“I’m surprised Gabriel agreed for you to travel,” Lucas said.
“I told him the doctors in Butte were as good as the ones in Missoula, and I refused to miss out on Christmas with my family.” She gripped his hand before collapsing onto a chair piled high with cushions.
When they’d settled into the living room with the children either listening to the adults’ conversation or playing on the floor, the discussion turned to Lucas.
“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you write us?” Savannah asked.
Lucas flushed. “It was a spur of the moment decision to come here. I thought I might compose some and perhaps perform here and there.” He stood. “Give me a minute.” He strode from the room, leaving his family to share curious glances at his precipitous departure.
He returned, holding Genevieve’s hand. She stood next to him with her shoulders back and chin raised proudly, although she could not hide the trepidation in her gaze. The apron she had worn to protect her clothes from stains had failed to prevent watermarks from marring her dark cranberry dress, and parts of her dress appeared black. At his family’s inquisitive stare, he said, “I want to introduce you to my wife, Genevieve.”
The silence in the room was only broken by Clarissa and Gabriel’s son, Billy, playing on the floor.
Lucas cleared his throat. “We married in Minneapolis a few weeks ago.”
“On December 6,” Genevieve murmured. She gripped his hand tightly.
Savannah jolted when Jeremy dug an elbow in her side. He rose, gripping Lucas’s hand and then embracing Genevieve. “Welcome to the family. It will be wonderful to become acquainted with you. I’m Lucas’s brother-in-law, Jeremy McLeod.”
Genevieve nodded, her gaze meeting his briefly as it continued to dart to the woman sitting in shock on the settee. Savannah rose and approached them. Her strawberry-blond hair was in slight disarray after her travels, adding to her allure. Rather than Lucas’s deep brown eyes, hers were a light blue, the color of the sky on a clear summer day.
“Lucas? Why?” Savannah asked, her voice filled with hurt.
“We wanted to wed,” Lucas said, his stance becoming more rigid as he pulled Genevieve closer to his side.
Two tears slid down Savannah’s cheeks as she suddenly flung herself in his arms. He had to release his wife to catch her. “Oh, that’s not what I meant! Why didn’t you come to us? Have a wedding with us? We would have had such a celebration!” She leaned away, her eyes lit with happiness and a touch of concern as she studied her brother. She grabbed one of Lucas’s hands and then one of Genevieve’s, making a circle out of them. “Oh, what a wonderful Christmas present. To have my brother here and married at last.” She gave Genevieve a cautious, welcoming smile.
Gabriel interrupted them and gave Lucas a slap on the back before giving him a quick hug. “Yes, and we’re all relieved to see you’re over that heartless woman who threw you over for some bloody businessman.” He frowned as Genevieve stiffened. “I beg your pardon. We tend to speak bluntly among the family.”
Lucas motioned for Genevieve to precede him into the sitting room. He clasped Clarissa’s hand a moment as she did not rise due to her advanced pregnancy. Genevieve perched stiffly on the edge of an ottoman with Lucas standing behind her, one hand on her shoulder. “My name was Genevieve Tyler, and that heartless woman you mentioned is my sister Parthena.”
Gabriel choked and flushed. “I beg your pardon.” He shared a quick look with Jeremy, who gripped Savannah’s hand.
Scrunched on the settee next to her mother, Melinda watched them with abject curiosity. “I think it’s romantic. It means you loved him more and were willing to marry him whereas your sister wasn’t.” Although she beamed at the newly married couple, her response did little to ease the adults’ tension. “I’m sure your sister rues the day she let such a fine man as Uncle Lucas out of her grasp.”
“I’m not a puppy,” Lucas joked, earning a chuckle from the men in the room.
“I’d like a puppy,” five-year-old Billy McLeod said, joining the conversation from the floor. “Mama says they’re too dirty and that I wouldn’t care for him as I should, but I would. He’d be my best buddy.”
“Now is not the time, young man,” Clarissa said, unable to hide the affectionate exasperation from her voice.
“But, Mama, puppies are extremely loyal. And you tell us every day that loyalty is a trait to be admired. That Papa is loyal and that’s one of the reasons you love him. It’s why I’d love my puppy.” He gave his mother a beseeching look.
Clarissa attempted to frown at him but burst out laughing, as did the rest of the adults.
“We are here to celebrate the holidays with your uncle, and we will worry about a puppy another time, Billy,” Gabriel said as he tousled his son’s hair.
Billy rolled his eyes and then looked at Lucas. “That always means no,” he grumbled.
Lucas laughed and squeezed Genevieve’s shoulder. “I’m sure our appearance here is a shock to you. I wanted to visit Patrick.”
“You were going to write us?” Savannah asked, waiting until Lucas nodded his agreement to her statement. “When I think that I scolded Mrs. Vaughan for her uncharitable gossip about you …” Savannah flushed at Lucas’s curious stare. “She told me how she’d read in one of her magazines that you’d wed. And flaunted your new bride at a performance in Minneapolis. I advised her to purchase more accurate reading material.”
“Oh, Sav.” He chuckled. “I hope you won’t actually have to apologize to a woman like her.”
“She won’t,” Clarissa said. “Mrs. Vaughan is too busy awaiting the arrival of her esteemed nephew from San Francisco. Bartholomew Bouchard.”
“That’s quite a mouthful,” Genevieve murmured, blushing as everyone laughed.
“Yes, and, from what we hear, he’s quite an eyeful too. Wears costumes as flamboyant as his aunts.” Savannah studied Genevieve. “You aren’t given to wearing ruffles and the color puce, are you?”
&nb
sp; Genevieve laughed and shook her head.
“Good.”
“Mama says she fears he’ll be as proud as a peacock and as bright too,” Billy interjected.
Clarissa gasped while everyone else laughed. “Billy, you don’t have to parrot everything I say.”
Billy smiled and then made noises he thought sounded like a parrot. Gabriel bit his lip in an attempt not to encourage his incorrigible son and then cleared his throat. Billy’s eldest sister, Geraldine, spoke up. “Billy, quit acting like such a baby. You know Mama was talking in conference with Aunt Savannah.”
“In confidence, dearest,” Clarissa said. She shared an amused smile with Lucas. “It seems Geraldine and Melly are having a competition over who can misspeak the most words in order to keep Mr. Pickens’s memory alive.”
Lucas laughed. “I shouldn’t think it would be necessary. He’ll live forever in Missoula lore.” He whispered into Genevieve’s ear, “I’ll tell you all about him later.” He dropped his hand from her shoulder when she flinched again at his light touch. He saw Savannah noting the interaction, and he looked toward Patrick, leaning against the doorjamb, having deposited the coats on a bed in the spare bedroom and now carrying his daughter.
Patrick smiled at everyone present, little Rose nearly asleep in his arms with her head against his shoulder. “I must put Rose to bed, but then we’ll have dinner. I can’t thank you enough for traveling to Butte for Christmas.”
“Santa comes tomorrow night!” Billy said, hopping on the floor. “Does Rose know Santa’s coming? How can she sleep?”
Patrick smiled at his nephew. “She’ll sleep well tonight, as I know you will too. Tomorrow night might be another story.” He whispered soothing words to Rose as she fussed in his arms. “I hope Santa can find you here, when you’re usually in Missoula.” He winked at Clarissa as he teased her son.
Billy frowned and then beamed at his uncle as though he had solved a big problem. “Mama says Santa’s smart. And she plans on setting out an extrabig plate of cookies for him.”
“Lucky Santa,” Lucas muttered, earning a grin from Gabriel and Jeremy. Patrick left to put Rose down for the night.
Escape To Love: Banished Saga, Book 6 Page 6
