A Heart for the Taking (39 page)

It was obvious that something was seriously amiss between the young lovers. Ellen had been ecstatic that the situation with Jonathan had been resolved, and she had been eager to explain the misunderstanding to Hugh. Unfortunately, Hugh would have nothing to do with her. At best he coolly ignored her shy requests for private conversation, and
the rest of the time he merely pretended that she was not even in the same room with him.

Having observed the scene between Jonathan and Hugh the day of the wedding, Fancy was positive that she knew what lay at the root of Hugh’s treatment of Ellen. But due to the circumstances, she’d had no time to talk privately with her sister to explain what she suspected. Ellen’s puzzled, unhappy expression had not gone unnoticed by Fancy, and when Annie tactfully excused herself and returned to the house, Fancy turned to Ellen and asked, “Have you had no chance to talk to Hugh?”

“Oh, Fancy,” Ellen said in a miserable tone. “He will not grant me a moment alone with him. He just fixes me with that icy glare of his and says that we said all that needs to be said to each other. What am I to do?”

Fancy sighed. “I do not know, dear, but I am very much afraid that Jonathan has a hand in why Hugh is acting as he is.”

“What do you mean?” Ellen asked uneasily. “I know Jonathan told Hugh that there is no question of a marriage between us. I had thought that Hugh would be pleased.” Her lower lip quivered. “But he has not been. He has been a beast to me, and I do not know why.” Tears filled her eyes, and dabbing frantically at the dampness with her embroidered handkerchief, she sobbed, “I have never been so miserable in my whole life. I knew that Hugh’s feelings were wounded when Jonathan announced the engagement, and that he was furious with me, but I thought that once he realized Jonathan had not been strictly speaking the truth, he would understand and forgive me.” She turned lovely blue eyes toward Fancy. “I do not think I like being in love very much. It hurts terribly. I feel as if my heart is breaking and there is nothing I can do about it.” Miserably she added, “I just do not understand men.”

Fancy put an arm around Ellen’s slender shoulders and said lightly, “I know, poppet, I know. I do not understand them very well, either. They are maddening, baffling, arro
gant, and dictatorial and utterly fascinating at the same time.”

Her head resting on Fancy’s shoulder, Ellen asked in a small voice, “But what am I to do? He will not even let me explain. I am certain that if he would just listen to me, I could make him understand.”

“I am afraid that Jonathan may have filled his head with more than just the news of your broken engagement,” Fancy said reluctantly. When Ellen glanced up at her, she admitted unhappily, “I am as positive as I can be without having actually heard the conversation that Jonathan has told him some ugly untruths about you and your supposed betrothal.”

“But what could he have told him that would make him look at me with such aversion? As if I were a poisonous toad?”

Fancy shook her head. “I do not know, darling. I only know that I saw them talking together and that whatever Jonathan was saying, from the stricken expression on his face, Hugh found it devastating.”

“But what . . .?” Ellen’s face went white. Her hands clenched together, she asked in a hushed tone, “You think that he—? That he told Hugh that he and I were—? That I am . . . ruined?”

Slowly Fancy nodded her dark head. “Yes, I think that is exactly what Jonathan did. And worse, I fear that Hugh believed him.”

An angry sparkle suddenly lit Ellen’s blue eyes. “How dare he,” Ellen said furiously. “Of all the despicable—” Words failed her, and tears forgotten, she took an agitated step toward the house. “Oh, but just you wait until I get my hands on him.”

“Well, I am afraid you’re going to have to wait awhile for your confrontation with Jonathan. We just left Walker Ridge yesterday, and I do not believe that we are to return there anytime soon,” Fancy replied calmly, glad to see that her sister was not looking so woebegone anymore. Ellen was normally the gentlest of creatures, and a little show of temper would be good for her.

Ellen spun back to look at her. “Jonathan?” she asked sharply. “You think I am talking about Jonathan?” She shook her blond head vehemently. “ ’Tis not Jonathan I am angry with. He is not the man I thought him to be, and I am not surprised that he slandered me, but for
Hugh
to believe him . . .” She took in a deep, furious breath. “I intend to tell that young man exactly what I think of him. How dare he believe me capable of such wicked and unchaste actions.” Her chin lifted. “I have every intention of telling him so this very instant. How dare he believe such ugly and untrue things about me! How
dare
he!”

Before Fancy could utter another word, Ellen wheeled about and, eyes flashing with righteous indignation, fists clenched determinedly at her sides, with a stride and militancy to her slender body that would have done a Valkyrie proud, she marched swiftly toward the stables.

H
er cheeks blooming with color, Ellen stormed into the cool, shadowy interior of the first building in the stable area that she came upon. Fortunately, she had chosen the right place: the breeding barn. Chance and Hugh were both there, admiring the new imported English stallion. The horse was cross-tied in the wide middle aisle, and from his gleaming bloodred coat and shiny black mane and tail, it was apparent that he had greatly benefited from the excellent care he had received at Devil’s Own since his arrival.

At Ellen’s precipitous entrance into the barn, the stallion snorted and pranced in the cross-ties. As the two men glanced in her direction, the stallion suddenly threw up his handsome head and let loose a piercing scream that reverberated in the rafters of the barn. Unused to the antics of stallions, Ellen was considerably startled by the sound, and to the amusement of both men, she gasped and took a hasty step backward.

Smiling at her, Chance said, “Do not be frightened, Ellen. He is firmly tied and cannot hurt you. Besides,” he added, patting the elegantly muscled neck of the horse, “Devil’s Own Promise, as we have renamed him, appears to be very much a gentleman.”

Momentarily thrown off guard by the stallion’s actions, Ellen quickly regrouped. Approaching the two men, she looked at Hugh and said tightly, “If my brother-in-law can spare you, I would like a private word with you . . .
now.
”

Hugh’s amused smile faded and he replied stiffly, “I can think of no reason why that would be necessary. Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of Chance.”

Ellen’s flush deepened, and she sent a beseeching glance in Chance’s direction. He cocked an eyebrow at her, noting with interest the signs of angry agitation on her face. Then he looked thoughtfully at Hugh’s closed features. One would have had to be blind and deaf not to realize that something was seriously amiss between the young pair, but since Hugh had not unburdened himself to him and since he was not inclined to meddle, Chance had not dwelt upon the situation. It was obvious, though, that Ellen was prepared to have her say, and since a prudent man did not take sides in a lovers’ quarrel—not if he wanted to remain on speaking terms with either party—Chance shrugged and said to no one in particular, “I believe that I shall put Promise away and go in search of my wife. She is no doubt, ah, anxiously wishing for my company.” Ignoring the aghast expression in Hugh’s eyes, Chance bowed to Ellen and murmured, “If you will excuse me?”

She gave him a curt nod, her gaze still fastened on Hugh’s face. Ignoring the pair of them, Chance quickly unfastened Promise and led the stallion away, leaving Ellen and Hugh alone in the cool shadows of the barn.

Barely able to contain her sense of injustice, Ellen hardly waited for Chance to pass from view before she took a step forward and, poking one stiff little finger in the middle of Hugh’s broad chest, said hotly, “How dare you believe such ugly things about me! How
dare
you!”

Unprepared for her attack, Hugh frowned and asked unwisely, “Pardon? What are you talking about?”

“Jonathan!” she said with loathing. “As if you did not know.”

Ellen’s blond curls framed her pretty face, and with her
cheeks rosy with temper and her blue eyes flashing with anger, she was vastly appealing as she stood before him. Too appealing, Hugh thought bitterly, feeling the now familiar ache in the middle of his chest intensifying. Despite all his vows to the contrary, as he stared down at her, he felt his heart-wrenching resolve to have nothing to do with her crumble. Grimly he reminded himself that in spite of how lovely she looked at the moment, she was an utterly amoral creature, a cruel young woman who ensnared the unwary heart and then, when she had sighted new prey, carelessly threw it away—as she had done to Jonathan. She was
not,
he had sworn to himself, going to have a chance to do it to him. The last thing Jonathan had done, he reminded himself painfully, was to beg him to take care and not be fooled by her air of innocence. Jonathan had warned him, too, that she might attempt to deny everything, and if he interpreted her stance and words correctly, that was precisely what she was trying to do now.

Conscious of the angry, resentful anguish that had been his constant companion since Jonathan had opened his eyes to her true nature, Hugh asked coldly, “And just what is it that my cousin Jonathan is supposed to have done?”

Ellen stamped her foot. “Oh, do not toy with me. You know very well that he told you something about me that has made you act as if I am some sort of a leper. And you are a fool if you believe a word that lying snake of a cousin of yours has said about me.”

Hugh flicked a sardonic brow upward. “Am I to understand, then, that you did
not
break off your betrothal to him?”

Suppressing a most unnatural urge to slap him, she said through clenched teeth, “Of course not. I
did
request that we cry off, and since we were never officially engaged there was no disgrace in it. It was clearly understood between us before we left England that the reason for our trip to the Colonies was to see if Jonathan and I would suit. But nothing had been formally arranged—Fancy wanted us to wait and we agreed with her—thank heavens.” Her eyes dark
ened. “For your information, Jonathan never requested my hand in marriage. He just announced our engagement in front of you and everyone else. He certainly had not asked
me
what I thought of the idea.”

“I find that rather difficult to believe, and I fail to see why you think this should interest me.”

For a brief second Ellen’s expression was so stricken that Hugh nearly caught her up in his arms and kissed her. Then the moment passed, and, holding himself firmly in check, he stared icily back at her.

His air of utter indifference and his cool words finally pierced the hot anger that had sent her willy-nilly to confront him. She was suddenly, painfully, mortified. It was clear that nothing she could say would change his mind about her, and now, as her normally sweet nature reasserted itself, she was extremely anxious to leave behind this embarrassing scene and minister to her broken heart in private. Her eyes glittering with unshed tears, she turned away and said huskily, “Forgive me, I shall not bore you any longer. I have misunderstood the situation between us.”

His face suddenly twisted with pain, Hugh muttered, “Just as Jonathan did, no doubt.”

“What do you mean by that?” Ellen asked sharply, glancing back at him.

Having said that much, he could not easily retreat. Deciding to have it all out in the open, he said stiffly, “You do not have to pretend to me. I know everything. Jonathan told me how you had led him to believe that you loved him and that you were going to be wed.” Not meeting her gaze, he added, “And that he never would have anticipated your marriage vows and made love to you if he had not been absolutely certain that you intended to marry him. He insisted that the only reason you had broken your promise to him was that you had grown bored with him and that you had decided that seducing me might prove more entertaining.”

“And you
believed
him?” Ellen asked in angry, incredulous tones.

His jaw clenched. “Why would he lie about something
like that? He showed himself in nearly as unflattering a light as yourself.”

“Why?” she cried furiously. “You mean you honestly do not know? Didn’t you and Chance warn Fancy and me about him? Has his nature changed so much in the weeks we have known each other? Has Jonathan somehow become such a saintly creature that his word is above suspicion? And have you so little respect for me that you would listen to him and not give me a chance to defend myself?”

There was such passion, such pain, in her voice that Hugh’s certainty that his cousin had spoken the truth began to waver. Jonathan, he reminded himself uneasily, was not noted for his integrity. How often in the past had Chance said that lying and conniving were second nature to his cousin, especially if it obtained him what he wanted? Thinking straight for the first time since that shattering afternoon, Hugh realized immediately that if Jonathan had intended to marry Ellen and she had cried off, he would not, as an honorable man would have done, have simply stood aside. No, Jonathan would have made certain that Ellen suffered. And if he suspected that her heart had chosen another, wouldn’t he have done his best to destroy her chance for happiness?