Eleanore fanned the air as the smoke curled upward. “Cole! I declare! I don’t understand what you like about those foul things!”
Alaina slipped to her feet. She thought it best to escape gracefully while she could. After all, there were no locks on the doors to save her from being turned across Cole’s knee—as he had so often threatened to do with Al.
“Perhaps the ladies would rather retire to the parlor and leave the men to their cigars and brandies,” she suggested in the manner of a cordial hostess.
When she reached the door, Alaina glanced back over her shoulder and found Cole’s gaze still resting on her. Those bright eyes burned with something other than anger, something she could not quite lay a finger to.
Mister Burr rose with the men and made his apologies, explaining that he had to start his travels early the next morning. “You’ll hear from me as soon as possible, Cole,” he said as his host led him to the door. “Be assured that I will do all I can to set aright the problems we discussed.” The older man thrust out a hand, and his eyes twinkled as the other clasped it in friendship. “You’ve got quite a family here, Cole, and a most charming wife. I shall look forward to returning with my report.”
The man took his leave, and Cole closed the door behind him. A quick grimace of pain flashed across his face as he stepped down from the vestibule, then realizing Braegar waited at the study door and contemplated him with close attention, he steeled himself against any further display as he made his way to the study.
In the parlor Alaina barely followed the uneasy chatter of Eleanore Darvey, for in her mind the memory of those blue eyes resting upon her was far too vivid. Lately it seemed a recurring affliction that her thoughts should be solely occupied with Cole.
Mrs. Darvey hardly dared pause in her long-winded discourse, afraid she might waver in her resolution to accept Cole’s proxy marriage without further inquiries. Carolyn was too busy trying to sort out the details of his tour in New Orleans and make them match with what she had heard at the table to give her mother much heed. The house was amazingly quiet beyond the drone of Eleanore’s voice. Then abruptly the serenity was broken by a shattering of glass and the roar of Cole’s voice.
“Dammit, man, I’ve heard enough!”
“Cole, listen!”
“Get out! Get out of my house before I throw you out!”
The women were jolted by the command. Helplessly, Alaina rose with the guests and followed them into the hall where she quietly bade Miles to fetch their wraps. Braegar burst from the study and strode angrily down the hall, his face red, his eyes blazing as he muttered to himself, “Damned ornery cuss!”
He cut his words off sharply as he met Alaina’s worried gaze. Murmuring an apology, he took her hand, but Cole, bracing a hand high against the doorjamb of the study, glared at them until Braegar, seeing the burning rage in the blue eyes, stepped away. He nodded crisply and, pivoting on a boot heel, stalked out of the house. Bewildered, Eleanore stared at Cole for a long moment before she followed her son. Just as confused, Carolyn took her cloak from Miles before she turned to Alaina. She opened her mouth to speak, reconsidered, and took her leave as gracefully as she could. Miles closed the door behind them, but refrained from meeting Alaina’s gaze. Dutifully he went into the parlor to bank the fire before making his way toward the back of the house. Alaina faced Cole, seeking some explanation for his outburst, but meeting the question in her eyes, he only snorted in derision, stepped back into the study, and slammed the door.
Alaina’s chin came up. She felt as insulted as if he had slapped her. Stiffly she mounted the stairs and sought out the privacy of her bedroom. If the master of the house could sulk in solitude, then so could the mistress.
The house gradually settled into the quiet routines of late evening. For a while Annie and the servants could be heard cleaning up the dining room, then Peter closed the back door as he departed for his father’s house. Soon all was silent, and no sound intruded upon the stillness of the bride’s chamber except the low creaks and groans, the ever-present mutterings of the stone-and-brick manse. Even the chimes of the clock seemed somehow subdued as they struck the midnight hour.
The tension and excitement of the evening waned more slowly and left the young bride wakeful and depressed. Sitting solemnly before the fireplace, she stared into the brightly flickering flames, pondering the state of her life. In her desire to show herself reasonably dressed, she had spent what money she had earned on her trousseau and Saul’s passage. There had been precious little, and to leave even a few coins in her purse, she had sacrificed on the least important items. The nightgown she wore was threadbare and had been repaired too often to bear any resemblance to a bride’s negligee. She fingered it distractedly and lifted her gaze to the mirror. The silvered glass gave back to her the portrait of a woman, no longer thin or bony, but slender and softly rounded. The long hours of toil had not been to her disadvantage, for the sleek, healthy tone of her body brought as many admiring stares as Roberta’s ever had. Still, Cole was not satisfied. He would have her wear the clothes he had purchased for her—the rich, elegant gowns she craved to wear, but could not afford. And his purpose? To have her continue with another charade and thus convince the world that they were a most loving couple, while all the time the animosity between them still raged.
Alaina stared into the troubled gray eyes reflected in the mirror. She knew what plagued her, what bore on her mind more than anything. Those moments in the hotel—she could not strike them from her mind. Each touch, each kiss had been branded on her memory with a clarity that set her body aflame and left her aching with her own needs.
Uneven footfalls sounded out in the hall, and Alaina tensed, listening over the wild hammering of her heart. Would he come to her this time in anger or in lust? Did he expect to stand above her bed and watch her sleep again? Or was there some other purpose to his coming?
The steps halted at her door, and abruptly the portal was flung wide, bringing her to her feet. Cole limped across the threshold, his jaw set, his eyes red, his brow furrowed. He still wore the narrow black trousers and silk shirt, but the latter had been opened to the waist and revealed his firm, well-muscled chest. The suspicion that he was drunk penetrated her consciousness, but it was only her instincts that warned her, for he displayed none of the obvious signs. Indeed, he seemed well in control of his faculties.
The long moment stretched longer as his eyes bore into her, and Alaina could find no strength in her limbs. The oil lamp on the table behind her silhouetted the womanly shape of her through the thin, loosely flowing nightgown, and his eyes ravished the bounty of her meagerly clad charms. Her breath trembled from her lips as she waited, frozen by the chair, then he limped nearer, spurring her to seek the doubtful protection of her robe.
“Do you wish to discuss something with me, Major?” She moved past him to close the door, not wanting to portray herself as some weak-kneed schoolgirl. His eyes followed her, and she returned to the hearth where she sat cautiously on the edge of a chair to ease the trembling in her limbs.
In a halfhearted attempt to set aside the thing that was gnawing at him, Cole tried a gentle approach. “You were beautiful this evening, Alaina.”
Her unanswering silence chafed. He limped to her wardrobe and, with the tip of his cane, stirred the hem of the petticoat that she had left hanging over the armoire door. He was clearly displeased by its tattered state and prodded the door open with his cane. Though the wardrobe was stuffed once more with rich garments, the black dress was easily accessible to hand.
“When you came across the gangplank yesterday, I almost expected Al to be lurking somewhere within these skirts.”
Alaina looked at him askance. “You always had a problem with that.”
“But it’s obvious that Al has departed forever.” Despite his care, his words sounded coarse and curt, and he berated himself as he saw her chin raise slightly in defiance.
“The lad was never really appreciated by anyone
, Major.”
“There are some who would argue,” he murmured distantly.
She raised her eyebrows and stared at him in mild amusement. “Really, Major?”
The title irritated his sorely strained good humor. “Dammit, Alaina!” The curse was sudden and explosive, startling her. He threw open the other door of the armoire and flung his hand toward the contents angrily. “You have a full closet of finery at your disposal, and I come in here to find you in rags!”
Alaina rubbed her slim nose with the back of a knuckle. “Quite right, sir. Beggarish though they be, they’re mine to wear.” She sat proud and stiff-necked in the chair. “Did I disappoint you this evening? Did I embarrass you in front of your guests?”
“No, of course not!” His tone was harsh as he waved away her inquiry. “You were a credit to my house.”
“Thank you, sir!” The reply was prompt, but the title smarted a bit. He did not meet her gaze, but glanced restlessly about the room. Everything was neatly in its place. Not at all like Al, he mused, but very much like this switch of a lass he was just beginning to find out about.
“I thought perhaps I might have displeased you,” she said softly, folding the flap of her robe over her knees. “You frowned so much—”
“It was only that damned pompous ass! That licentious Lothario who wheedled his way to your side. Undoubtedly he has been much attracted to you from the beginning.” His eyes raked over her, making Alaina acutely aware of the scantiness of her garb. His voice deepened. “But I do not intend to share you with him.”
As soon as the words left his lips, Cole had the distinct impression that he had just foolishly stirred a volcano and was about to see it erupt in his face. On a later day he would decide this had only been a warning whiff of smoke. The sting of his insult brought Alaina immediately to her feet, and she faced him with eyes blazing.
“I don’t think you need worry overmuch, Doctor Latimer! I am not a pawn to be used at anyone’s convenience!” She strode irately about the room, questioning almost sneeringly, “What kind of man are you? What kind of man is it who invites people to dine, then orders them out of his house? Your skill as a host leaves much to be desired! Indeed, you behaved just like an army mule—”
Cole cut her off with a snarl. “I only ordered Braeger out.”
“Why do you hate him so?” Alaina demanded, whirling to meet his gaze. “Is it because he’s still capable of being a doctor?”
“Doctor, pah! That ham-handed—”
“Enough!” Her voice was sharp as she realized he intended to give only insult to the man.
“He, too, bade me chop off my leg!” Cole raged on, unmindful of her command. “Cut it off and be done with it, the man said!”
“Stop it!” The rising fire of the volcano showed in her eyes. “I care naught for your hard-minded ravings. You’ve grown hateful and mean!”
“Od’s blood!” He laughed caustically. “I vow you and Roberta were closer kin than you claim. Hateful and mean! Her exact words on many occasion. You set upon me with the same fangs your cousin laid to my neck!” His voice was hoarse and cracked. His eyes blazed fiercely with the battle that raged within him. He could not shake the lustful cravings in his loins or the urge to clasp her to him and smother her struggles in a passionate embrace. “But you have done your cousin one better. She promised what she could not give. You deny me what you can give!”
The volcano rumbled. Alaina’s own eyes flashed a dangerous steely blue as she took a step toward him. “I warned you about comparing us before, bluebelly!”
“Ah, yes, the innocent now!” He trod the trembling ground with a fool’s boldness. “You left—she came! Trick the Yankee! Trap the bluebelly! Drag him down! Tear him apart! How much did your bitch of a cousin pay you to waste your virgin’s blood on me?”
Whaap!
The sound of Alaina’s hand striking Cole’s cheek echoed in the room. He caught her wrist, and in the next instant she was crushed unmercifully against his naked chest. His open mouth plummeted down, covering her protests in a brutal kiss, his lips forcing hers apart and his tongue thrusting through with overwhelming savagery. The restrained desire broke through him in a rush, and he yielded to the rutting heat of his lust, lifting her feet clear of the floor until her soft thighs were snugly settled against the manly fullness in his loins. Alaina’s whole being burned with the brazen boldness of his onslaught. She could not draw a breath. Her mind would not form a sane thought. Her breasts ached against his hard chest. Her loins throbbed with the scalding heat of his arousal. She could find no strength to hold him off, nor the desire. Then abruptly Cole released her, and she staggered back, breathless, drained of all anger.
“Be warned, madam,” he rasped hoarsely, shattering her trance. “I have known the follies of marriage much too well, but no more. You are mine, and I will take from you whatever I desire, and whenever—”
“You agreed—” A weak, unconvincing whisper of denial was all she could muster.
“Whenever! Wherever!” Cole reasserted. He retrieved his cane from the floor and limped from the room, closing the door behind him.
Like a sleepwalker, numb, stunned, Alaina moved about the room, lowering the lamps until deep shadows filled the chamber. Robe and all, she crawled beneath the covers and curled herself in a tight ball, hugging her knees. Yet the haunting pressure of his excitement still burned in the depth of her being. It was a wee small hour in the morning before sleep finally came to her dazed mind.
Chapter 31
THE early morning mists still wreathed the valley when Alaina rose and carefully dressed herself, intending to confront Cole about this matter of their vows. They’d either have a marriage or they would not, but she would not straddle the fine wire of his mercurial disposition.
When she descended the stairs, Miles came rushing from the back of the house, hurriedly shrugging into his vest. As she moved toward the closed study door, he positioned himself obtrusively before it.
“Good-morning, madam.” He was still knotting his tie.
Alaina gave him an elegant morning smile. “I was just going in to see if my husband is up and about.”
Miles moved to block her way more completely. “Begging your pardon, madam, but the doctor gave me strictest orders that he was not to be disturbed by anyone. And”—he swallowed nervously—“begging your pardon again, madam”—he cleared his throat—“most especially, not by you.” He lowered his gaze quickly and fumbled with his watch fob.
In the brief silence that followed Alaina could hear the off-rhythm thump of Cole’s cane beyond the study door, as if he paced the room. As graciously as possible, she released the poor butler from his embarrassment. “I understand, Miles.”
She ate breakfast alone, while the chair at the far end of the table remained conspicuously empty. Cole’s service had not even been set, and though tasty, the food on her plate was barely touched. Alaina left the dining room to retire upstairs, and as she entered the hallway, Mrs. Garth was just raising her hand to knock on the study door. The housekeeper paused as Alaina passed and slowly lowered her arm. In her other hand she carried a silver tray that bore an unopened bottle of brandy. It was obvious to Alaina that the woman was deliberately waiting for her to leave. In quiet dignity Alaina crossed to the stairs and mounted them. Just before reaching her room, she heard the light rap of Mrs. Garth’s knuckles against the heavy oak of the study door.
Alaina frowned. It seemed as if everybody else in the house knew what was going on and was determined to keep her apart from it. If Cole was attempting to drink his problems into submission, then the servants had their orders; he was not to be disturbed.
Well! A finely shaped jaw thrust out defiantly. That, too, would pass. He has to come out sometime.
In the afternoon, Olie dragged a chair into the hallway and leaned it back beside the study door. There, he reposed in guardianship while Miles attended other duties. Through the thick oak door, Cole’s voice drifted, chanting a sin
gsong ditty, the words of which were slurred beyond recognition.
In the evening, Peter took up the station, and the next morning Miles was up earlier, puttering about in the foyer when she came down. Appraising the situation, Alaina made no attempt to approach the door, but answered Miles’ greeting with a nod of her head and went in to breakfast. Sometime around the noon hour Peter returned to guard the study door. At the evening meal no sound came from the study, though Olie was taking his tour of duty.
The third morning Alaina came down slightly later than usual. She had been especially careful in her toilet, brushing her hair until it fairly gleamed and pinching her cheeks to a brighter color. Surely, she thought, even Cole had taken enough solace from the bottle. But the door was still closed, the study quiet, and Miles was, as usual, present before it. Annie brought Alaina’s breakfast under a silver cover and again the mistress of the house ate alone. Heaving a weighty sigh, Alaina took a cup of coffee with her to the large window that provided a splendid view of the river. All her resolutions of confronting Cole had mellowed to a desire just to see him. But even that seemed too much to hope for.
The first sense of being watched was a crawling of hair on the nape of her neck, yet this time Alaina continued sipping her coffee until the first flush of fear died away. There was no threat here; that much she realized. Without giving an indication of her intent, she whirled. The kitchen door creaked as it swung closed.
There was someone! Alaina dashed forward, setting the cup on the table, and threw open the betraying portal. She took a step through, then stopped, listening carefully. No one was in the room, but she heard a low humming, a wordless song coming closer. The door leading from the fruit cellar opened, and Annie stepped into the kitchen, cradling several crock jars against her plump bosom. When she saw the new mistress in her kitchen, she stopped in surprise, ceasing her melody.
“Did you see anyone come through here?” Alaina queried in confusion.
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