by Linda Ladd
Downstairs again, they found the others on the side terrace, and Alysson looked first to Donovan, who sat at a table with Katie and Olivia. Alysson hoped he would want to speak with her, but he looked coldly away. She walked with Odette to join Billy at the other table, but watched her husband as inconspicuously as she could, aching inside each time he moved his arm and winced with pain.
"If you are very unhappy here, I will find a way to take you away."
Billy's soft words brought Alysson's attention back to him. She smiled, laying one hand over his.
"You are a very good friend, Billy, and I am so grateful that you cared enough to come here and see about me. But I cannot leave."
"If he is cruel to you, I will..."
Alysson stopped him. “He is not cruel to me. He is angry with me right now, but he is my husband.” She looked at Donovan again, who looked away when their eyes met. “And I love him. I want to stay here with him."
Billy looked unconvinced, but Odette smiled knowingly.
"If you should ever need me, Aly,” Billy said earnestly, “just send word. I mean it. You know I would do anything for you. You saved my life, and I won't ever forget it."
"I know.” Wanting to change the subject, she entreated, “Tell me about the play. Who took my place?"
She listened as they told her about the new actress that Rosalie had found, but even with their assurances that she was not nearly as good in the role of Cordelia as Alysson had been, Alysson's spirits fell as the afternoon grew into dusk and it was time for them to leave.
Donovan waited silently on the veranda above them as they said their good-byes. As Alysson stood in the drive watching their carriage until it was out of sight, she was suddenly quite terrified at the prospect of facing Donovan alone. Hands atremble, heart fluttering, she took a deep breath, then turned to confront him, only to find the porch empty. She felt both relieved and hurt. Her biggest fear was that he would never forgive her, that he would treat her with terrible icy contempt forever. Resolve hardened inside her. If he would not come to her, she would go to him. She would make him realize how much she loved him. She would not give up until she erased the hatred from his eyes.
Much later that same night Donovan sat behind the desk in his study. He rested his head on the back of the chair, shutting his eyes. His arm throbbed, his head ached, and all he could think about was Alysson. Despite everything, despite all that she had put him through, he couldn't keep his eyes off her, couldn't forget she was close by with her silky soft hair and smooth white skin and trembling lips.
"Damn her,” he cursed listlessly beneath his breath, pouring more whisky into his glass. He downed it quickly and refilled it. Suddenly every muscle in his body turned to stone as he saw her in the doorway.
"May I please come in?"
She was all soft and uncertain, with a tentative smile meant to disarm him. He clenched his jaw, and her smile faded a bit before she moved toward him. She looked beautiful, her green eyes like huge glowing emeralds in the flickering flame of the candle. Her hair had grown some and lay over her shoulders in a golden shimmer. Donovan's hand trembled with the need to reach out and touch her until he had to double his fists to prevent doing so. Furious at himself, furious at her, he dragged his gaze from her face. He stroked the scar on his eye, staring into the fire as she came slowly around the desk until the sweetness of her perfume filled his brain.
"I want to tell you how terribly sorry I am about what happened. I never meant for you to get hurt, you must believe me."
She stopped, startled by his cold, mirthless laugh.
"You should have thought of that before you went running to Compton."
Alysson grew bolder as her hope ballooned. He was talking to her. “I only went there to explain why I quit the play. I said I was quitting to be with you."
"Brace and I are leaving for Washington tomorrow, but I intend to have a divorcement from you no matter what it takes,” he said bluntly.
"No, please, Donovan, don't do that,” she whispered, sinking to her knees beside him. “I love you so much. I've missed you so much."
When her fingertips touched his cheek, it was as if he had been touched by a heated brand. He looked at her, looked into pleading green eyes that seemed to swallow him body and soul. He hardly knew he groaned, and Alysson gasped as his unharmed arm came around her, crushing her against him, his mouth on hers, hard, hurting, punishing her, but she didn't care. He was holding her, kissing her, and her arms went around his neck as she met his passion eagerly, moaning with pleasure.
The tight embrace lasted only a moment before he thrust her from him and stood. Alysson sat back on her heels as he left the room as if pursued by a legion of Satan's demons. She raised trembling fingers to her lips, still hot and swollen from his relentless kisses. Joy swelled in her heart, because even though he had left her again, he had shed his icy self-control. Now she knew he still wanted her. The way he had kissed her had proved it. For the first time, she felt sure he would forgive her in time, and she shivered with happiness, determined to do everything she could to make him forgive her sooner.
Chapter 18
The month of September ended with cooler weather and a blaze of crimson and gold over the forested hills of Brooklyn Heights. Alysson spent her time with Katie and Macomi, waiting for Donovan to return from Washington. Often the three of them strolled to the banks of the East River where several white gazebos had been built to face the water. It was pleasant to sit there in the crisp autumn air and watch small sailboats and sleek military frigates or merchantmen sail past them to port.
Katie had become very interested in acting since Alysson had told her about her short-lived career, and one afternoon, they sat together in the largest gazebo while Katie sorted through a box of her mother's discarded clothing in search of costumes. Since Alysson had lent her the old copy of Shakespeare that she had brought with her from Cornwall, Katie had fallen in love with the fanciful fairies in A Midsummer Night's Dream, especially with the antics of the mischievous Puck.
Macomi sat cross-legged on the floor nearby as she was wont to do, and Alysson rocked in a large wicker chair, deep in her own thoughts. She smiled at Katie, having become very fond of the little girl. She was such an unusual child, and it saddened Alysson that Katie was still deeply troubled by the death of her father. More times than she could count, Alysson had been awakened by the child's shrill screams of terror.
She lifted her eyes to gaze across the choppy gray waters to the distant shore of Manhattan Island, feeling an intense longing to see Odette and Billy and all the others. She missed them far more than she did the actual acting, and in the past weeks at Wildwood, she had found that it no longer seemed quite so important for her to be on stage. It was Donovan she missed. Every day she thought of him, wondering where he was and what he was doing.
The first tingling of pain began in the lower reaches of her abdomen, and she tensed all over, holding her breath as sweat broke out upon her brow. She grimaced as a jagged thrust of pain knifed through her, then she gave a muffled moan as it began to subside. She breathed deeply then, wiping her brow, well used to it by now.
Macomi's dark eyes questioned her, but the Seneca woman did not speak, and Alysson turned her gaze back on the flowing river. She hadn't felt completely well in over a month now. At first, she had blamed it on the weather, but the dizzy spells plaguing her continued even though the days were cool. There was something dreadfully wrong with her, because, though the stomach pains were not constant, they were frequent. Macomi was still watching her, and Alysson found herself wondering about the old woman. Macomi rarely spoke about herself, though she told many stories of her youth in the Bear Clan of the Senecas.
"You know, Macomi, you have never told me anything about yourself. How did you come to be here at Wildwood with Katie?"
"Long Knife bring me here."
Alysson had learned early in her stay that Macomi referred to the Americans in that way, but she also knew
Macomi used the term to signify Donovan. Her curiosity was piqued.
"Donovan brought you here, then? Were you a captive?"
Macomi shook her head. “No, I wife of white man. Name Gilly. He buy me from father for blankets and guns."
Alysson's first reaction was revulsion at such a barbarous custom. Then she thought of her own circumstances. She had felt bought and sold in the same way when her father had told her she had to marry an American named Donovan MacBride. That day seemed very long ago now, but she could still remember how afraid she had been to meet Donovan.
"Was it hard for you to leave your tribe and go with a white man like that?” she asked.
"Gilly good. I gave him child."
"A little girl, wasn't it?” Alysson said, remembering that Macomi had mentioned a daughter to her at one time.
"My people war with Gilly. Burn house and barn and kill him. I hide in trees, but baby die in snow before I could reach white man's fort at the Great Falls of Niagara."
Her words were uttered softly, calmly, but Alysson could read shadows of pain in the old Indian's eyes. Her heart went out to her.
"I am sorry, Macomi."
Macomi's expression did not change. “Long Knife at fort. He bring me here to be nurse for Katie. I been here many year. I be nurse for your baby."
Alysson smiled. “I would very much like to have a baby.” If Donovan would ever come home and want her again, she thought sadly. He would, she told herself firmly. She would make him want her again.
"Your baby come after maple flows, when leaves are born,” Macomi said.
"What?” Alysson said blankly.
Macomi put her hand against her midriff, then gestured to Alysson's stomach in sign language that Alysson could not misinterpret.
"Oh no, Macomi, I am not going to have...” Alysson began, but as Macomi nodded again, she paused, her mind standing still at the idea. She had spent only one night with Donovan. Could it be true? A baby, his baby? She put her hand to her abdomen, trying to think. How could she be so blind? Never had it even occurred to her that she might be with child. She knew nothing of the signs or symptoms. Was that the way of it? Was a baby the cause of her nausea and pain? Eyes wide with wonder, she looked to Macomi, who watched her silently.
"Are you sure? How can you know such a thing?"
"I know. Baby come in spring."
A multitude of feelings surged inside Alysson, obliterating the first shock she had felt. She was going to have a baby! Joy bloomed, making her smile, then fear gripped her. Would he want a child of hers? Would it make a difference in the way he felt about her? He would have to be pleased; any man would want a son. It was wonderful! A miracle! She looked at Macomi again, realizing that there was so much she didn't know.
"Is there always an ill feeling, Macomi?"
"Sickness go as baby get bigger."
Alysson welcomed that bit of news with a great deal of relief, but there was so much more she wanted to know. She knew nothing about having babies; she had never even held a baby.
"And the pain?” she asked hesitantly, searching Macomi's coppery face. “Is it sharp and sudden? And"—she paused in embarrassment, lowering her voice to a whisper—"is there blood at times?"
Macomi frowned. “No blood. Bad sign."
Fear coursed through Alysson's veins. “It will be all right, won't it, Macomi?"
"Only spirits know. You must be careful not to displease spirits."
"You mustn't tell anybody yet, Macomi, please,” Alysson begged, glancing at the little girl still playing happily with the old clothes. “Not even Katie, not yet."
The Indian nodded, then stood and moved away to help Katie button up the back of a velvet evening gown, leaving Alysson alone to contemplate the joys and terrors of knowing another person lived inside her. A child created from an act of love between Donovan and her. Surely it was a good sign, she thought, a sign that everything was meant to be all right.
In the next few weeks, as autumn grew older, bringing cold air and falling leaves, Alysson held the knowledge of her child close to her heart. The nausea abated somewhat, but the pain and other symptoms persisted, frightening her. She began to take better care of herself, avoiding anything she thought might hurt the baby.
During the long days, she grew to regard Katie as a precious little sister, and even Olivia became a dear friend. It was as if she finally belonged to a real family, a normal family. If only Donovan would come back, she would be happy.
He had sent one letter addressed to Olivia, but he had not mentioned Alysson. It hurt that he didn't care enough to ask about her, and on cold nights as she lay in her warm bed, she listened to the crackling of the fire and took turns being furious with Donovan for his stubborn pride and for being away so long, and smiling dreamily as she thought of the day she would tell him about their baby. The latter were the dreams that gave her pleasure, for she would imagine his glad smile at her news and the way he would hold her tenderly and stroke her hair. Why couldn't he just come home!
On the chilly afternoon of November 17, such thoughts circled in her head as she shuffled through the fallen leaves in search of a hiding place. It was Katie's tenth birthday, and the excited little girl had cajoled Alysson into their daily game of hide-and-seek. Katie was on the front steps, well on her way to the count of one hundred, and Alysson looked around, drawing her soft blue woolen shawl closer around her shoulders. She could smell the acrid odor of burning leaves as servants raked dead leaves into piles to be burned.
A haze of smoke hung over the lawn from the fires burning at sporadic intervals beneath the trees, and Alysson gave only a glance to the grape arbor as a potential hiding place, knowing Katie would look there first. As Katie's shout sounded from far up the lawn, Alysson's eyes alighted on the nearest pile of raked leaves, and smiling with a new idea, she knelt quickly, burrowing a hole in the middle of it. She covered herself with the brown leaves, chuckling as she crouched there to wait. Katie would never think of looking for her there. It was not long before she heard Katie calling from somewhere closeby.
"Aly! Come on out and see my surprise!"
Alysson did not fall for that, well used to Katie's attempts to trick her out of hiding. She could hear the little girl coming closer by the crackling and shuffling of the leaves, and as the footsteps passed beside her, Alysson snaked out a hand to catch Katie's foot. Her smile faded when she heard not a girlish squeal, but instead a muffled expletive no child would dare say.
"What the hell?” Donovan muttered, managing to catch himself before he went all the way down. He turned, frowning, then stared in amazement as Alysson rose to her knees from the middle of the pile of dead leaves, looking absolutely horrified at the sight of him. The expression in her eyes caused his irritation at being tripped to fade, and when Katie ran up, laughing delightedly at what Alysson had done, he grinned too, very glad to see Alysson again though he had told himself he wouldn't be.
"I didn't mean to trip you,” Alysson began nervously, self-consciously pulling twigs and leaves out of her hair. “I thought you were Katie."
"So I gathered,” Donovan said on a wry note, but he held out a hand to help her up, and Alysson took it eagerly. His long brown fingers closed around hers, and even that touch shook her, making her even more shy and self-conscious. It had been a long time since she had seen him, and he seemed even bigger and more masculine than she remembered. His face was deeply tanned from the ocean voyage, and as she met his dark gaze, her breath caught, for there was no hatred or contempt in his eyes this time, only a very serious look. She smiled up at him, and for one shivery instant she was sure he was about to pull her into his arms.
"Isn't it wonderful, Aly!” Katie exclaimed, effectively breaking off anything Donovan might be contemplating. “Uncle Donovan and Uncle Brace have come home in time for my birthday party! And they've brought me lots of presents from Washington!"
"Yes, I am very glad they have come home,” Alysson said, looking at Donovan again.
"Then come with me quickly, because Uncle Brace is waiting on the porch for us,” Katie went on, pulling on her hand. Alysson went along reluctantly. She would have much rather stayed behind to admire her handsome husband. He was even smiling now, probably at Katie's exuberance, and his smile did not vanish when he looked at Alysson. He was ready to forgive her, she knew it. She could finally tell him about the baby, and she could not wait!
"Are you really glad my uncle Donovan came home for the party?” Katie asked Alysson later that afternoon in Alysson's bedchamber as they readied themselves for her birthday supper. “Is that why you are brushing your hair so long and fussing so much with what you wear?"
Alysson turned sideways on her bench and looked at Katie. She sat in a chair just behind Alysson, her feet curled up beneath her, looking like a little doll in her fancy, ruffle-trimmed birthday dress tied with a wide ribbon sash. The bright yellow color of her gown made her red hair look even more fiery. Alysson smiled at her question.
"Yes, that is exactly what I am doing. I am glad he has come home again,” she told her, then lowered her voice. “And I'll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell anyone."
Katie nodded eagerly, loving secrets, and Alysson went on in a hushed voice. “I intend to make him love me again so he won't leave us anymore."
"Mama says he does love you,” Katie said, twirling one of the yellow ribbons holding back her long ringlets.
Alysson had turned back to the mirror, but at Katie's remark, her hand stilled where she fashioned a curl at her nape.
"Did she really say that?"
"Yes, she says he's just being stubborn and prideful."
Alysson resumed her brushing. “I hope she is right, but now that he's here I intend to make him notice me again."
"I know how you can do it,” Katie said seriously. “You can do your squirrel voice or your horse voice, like you did down at the stables when we fed carrots to the mares. He'd like that."
