Beloved (17 page)

Her smile faded and her chin tilted in defiance.

“You are my wife and he was your … your paramour.”

“He was no such thing. There was never anything improper between us.” She rose to her feet, hands clasped at her waist. “When you say it that way, you make it sound scandalous.”

“It could be construed that way, a married woman engaged to another man.”

“Brook and I had a proper courtship. I was thought to be a widow by everyone, including me. Including your own father. It was only the paperwork declaring my husband dead that was unfinished.”

“But I
wasn’t
dead.”

“How was I to know that? You didn’t bother to contact me. At least not until you
needed
a wife for political reasons.”

Tyson took a step toward her. “I’ve told you I’m sorry for that. How many times must I beg your forgiveness? I’m sorry.” His voice rose. “I’m sorry!”

“Sorry doesn’t change the past. Sorry doesn’t change that you abandoned me. That you didn’t want me. That you forgot I was even alive.”

“I didn’t forget you were alive.”

“Didn’t you? Well, you acted like it.”

“We had a bargain, Diana. A bargain that you would be my wife for the six months of the campaign. Truly my wife in all ways except … except one.”

Heat flared in her cheeks, showing she knew his meaning. “And I’ve kept the bargain in … in all ways except one. But I will choose my own friends.”

The anger that had earlier seared him with heat turned suddenly cold. “Are you … Are you in love with Brook Calhoun?”

“Am I in—” Up went her chin again. “What I feel for Brook is none of your concern.”

Tyson was across the parlor in a flash. He didn’t consider his actions. He acted out of pure instinct as he wrapped her in his arms and did what he’d wanted to do for a solid month: he kissed her. There was more anger than passion in the press of his mouth against hers. He wanted to mark her as his. He wanted others to know she belonged to him. He wanted
her
to know she belonged to him. He wanted her to submit to him as a wife was supposed to submit to a husband.

Husbands, love your wives …

He hated the small voice of his conscience. He hated what the words implied. Would Tyson lay down his life for Diana? Like Christ for the church, would he do only what was best for her? Could she trust him completely, without hesitation or reservation? The answer to the first two questions was, he didn’t know. The answer to the last question was a resounding
No
.

He loosened his hold upon her and took a step back.

The color that had infused her cheeks moments before drained away, leaving her pale. Her eyes were wide and filled with confusion.

He took another step back, at the same time raking the fingers
of his right hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Yet. He shouldn’t have done it yet. And he shouldn’t have kissed her in anger. He wanted to cherish her, not brand her as a possession. “Once again, I’m sorry.”

She stared at him a short while longer, then without a word she turned and left the room, head high, shoulders stiff. He stepped to the parlor entrance to observe her as she climbed the staircase, listening to her footsteps, knowing she stopped first to look in on Ned before going into her own room and closing the door.

The maid remained silent while she helped Diana out of her evening gown and into her nightclothes. But Liz’s silence said more than any words could have. Everyone in the household must have heard Diana’s fight with Tyson. Even the servants now knew this was a business arrangement, not a marriage, and it shamed her.

“Thank you, Liz,” she said in a soft voice. “That will be all.”

“Yes, Mrs. Applegate.” The young woman, still avoiding eye contact, dipped a curtsy before leaving the bedroom.

Diana drew a deep breath as she got into bed and pulled the covers up to her neck. Tears threatened and her throat tightened.

They’d fought over Brook, but it wasn’t Brook she thought about as she lay there. It wasn’t even the quarrel that had ended the evening. It was Tyson and the strength of his arms and the blaze his kiss had set afire inside her.

“Are you in love with Brook Calhoun?”

She wished she could have answered in the affirmative. But she couldn’t.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Fear gripped her. Fear of the future, both the near and the far. Fear because her life had spun out of control. Her carefully made
plans were in complete disarray. Tears dampened the pillow, and it took all the willpower she possessed to keep from sobbing aloud. She’d loved Tyson once, and when he’d abandoned her, Diana’s world had seemed to end. It had taken time—years—for her heart and emotions to heal. She hadn’t wanted to risk feeling like that ever again. With Brook, there would have been safety, though no great passion.

It’s what I wanted. It was. It was
.

Diana cried herself to sleep.

July 1896

As Diana walked down the hallway, an unfamiliar voice drifted from her father-in-law’s study. Unsure why, she stopped and listened.

“Your son’s becoming better at covering his tracks, Mr. Applegate. It took us a little longer this time, but we managed to find him again. We’ve learned Tyson was in India up until about a month ago. Now he’s in Italy and has been staying at a villa belonging to … to a Mr. Quentin Kingston.” The man cleared his throat. “It seems your son’s developed a—shall we say—romantic attachment to Mr. Kingston’s sister. If you know what I mean, sir.”

“I know what you mean,” Jeremiah answered, his voice gruff. “Another fortune hunter, I suppose. At least he can’t marry her. That’s one mistake he can’t repeat.”

“Miss Kingston is no fortune hunter. She’s wealthy in her own right. Not to put too fine a point on it, sir, but she’d make you seem a pauper.”

Forcing herself to draw a breath, Diana moved to a nearby bench and sat on it. It surprised her that what she’d overheard could still cause intense pain. Would she die from this hurt? It felt like it.
How she wished she could stop loving Tyson. Why couldn’t she? And why couldn’t she stop hoping he would return to her?

I’ve got to leave this place. I’ll never stop waiting for Tyson to come back as long as I’m here
.

It felt good to make that decision at last. She should have left long ago. If not for her parents’ financial troubles and the entreaties of her mother-in-law, she would have.

She would write to her mother and father today to tell them she was coming to stay with them. Nora Applegate had bequeathed a small monthly stipend to Diana in her will, and that money would keep Diana from becoming a burden to her parents. She would go and be set free from the sadness that seemed to fill every moment of every day.

She would go and be set free from Tyson Applegate’s hold upon her heart.

SEVENTEEN

“Justice Waverley to see you, sir,” Upchurch announced.

Tyson rose from his desk in the library. “Samuel, this is a surprise.”

“I hope I haven’t come too early.”

“Of course not.” After shaking hands with the judge, Tyson motioned to a nearby chair. “Have a seat.”

Samuel shook his head. “I can’t stay but a moment. I have an appointment I must keep. But I promised my wife I would come over. She’s lost a bracelet that belonged to her mother. A gold chain with diamonds. The clasp broke on our way over last night, and she put it in her purse. But when we got home, it wasn’t there. We’ve searched the carriage to no avail, so we were hoping it might have fallen out somewhere in your house.”

“Upchurch?”

The butler appeared in the doorway.

“Would you inquire if a bracelet was found, please? Mrs. Waverley lost it last night. A gold chain with diamonds.”

“At once, Mr. Applegate.”

Tyson looked at the judge and motioned once again to the chair opposite him. This time Samuel sat down.

“Iris would wish me to tell you how much we both enjoyed the evening, and we are quite taken with your wife. Even more so than
before. She’s an asset to you, Tyson, and to your career. I’ve thought so from the first time I met her.”

Tyson suspected he heard a question in the judge’s tone, one about Brook Calhoun. Or maybe he imagined it. Maybe no one else thought it strange for Brook to have been one of the guests at Tyson’s table.

Why had she done it? Why had she invited Brook into their home? Was it really as innocent as a dinner companion for her mother? And if not, what was the real reason? Was it possible Diana loved Brook? She’d refused to answer that last question. She’d said her feelings were none of his business. But that wasn’t true. They
were
his business.

He hadn’t seen his wife or his mother-in-law today. They’d both eaten breakfast in their bedchambers. Not the first time Diana had done so since moving into this house, and yet this morning her absence at the breakfast table had felt like a personal affront. But could he blame her for wanting to avoid him?

The judge cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry.” Tyson looked at the older man. “Did you say something?”

“You seem distracted. A problem with the campaign?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But a great deal on my mind.”

“Mmm.”

Before either could say more, Upchurch returned. “I’m sorry, sir. No one has found a bracelet. I sent Liz to inquire of Mrs. Applegate, and she hasn’t seen it either.”

The judge sighed. “That is disappointing. My wife will be heartbroken. It had great sentimental value to her.”

“Perhaps it fell into the lawn on your way to or from the carriage,” Tyson said. “I’ll make sure the grounds staff know to keep an eye out for it.”

“Thank you.” Samuel stood. “I’d best be on my way. I don’t want to be late for my appointment.”

Tyson walked the judge to the front door. The two men shook hands again, and Tyson watched as Samuel strode down the walk to where his carriage waited on the boulevard. Then he stepped back into the house and turned around.

Diana stood at the bottom of the staircase. She looked pale. Worse, she looked unhappy. Deeply unhappy.

And Tyson was the cause.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Has the judge gone already?”

“Yes. Just now.”

“I’m sorry I missed him.”

“He only stopped by to check on the bracelet.”

“It wasn’t found?”

Tyson shook his head.

Diana glanced down the hall behind her. “Is Mother up?”

“I haven’t seen her this morning.” He took two steps toward her. “Diana, I’m sorry. About last night. I shouldn’t have … behaved the way I did. Please forgive me.”

He saw her shoulders rise and fall. When she looked at him, he thought there might be tears in her eyes, though she didn’t let them fall.

“I was in the wrong, Tyson. Not you. I shouldn’t have invited Brook without speaking to you first, and I never should have let you be surprised by his arrival. This is your home.”

It’s your home too
.

“I promised I would do my best to get along with you and to not lose my temper during these six months.”

“And I promised to do my best not to make you angry or hurt your feelings.”

Her hands clenched at her sides. “I shouldn’t have expected there wouldn’t be disagreements between us.”

With sudden insight, he realized that’s what he’d expected. He’d expected her to move into his home and to immediately see he was a changed man. He’d expected her to forgive him completely for his past transgressions—the ones she knew about and the ones she didn’t. He’d expected her to forget whatever Brook Calhoun had been in her life and cleave to her husband instead.

Unreasonable expectations, all of them.

“You’re right, Diana. But will you give me another chance to do things better?”

She didn’t answer him at once. Simply looked at him, sadness written on her face. Sadness and confusion. Because of him.

Finally, she said, “We’ll both try to do better.”

Seated in the shade of her favorite tree that afternoon, Gloria closed the book she’d been reading and studied her daughter. Diana sat on a blanket spread on the lawn, holding Tiger and scratching the cat behind its ears. Ned and Trouble were nearby. Though improving, the dog wasn’t fully recovered from whatever ailed it. Ned, on the other hand, showed no sign of his former injury.

It didn’t surprise Gloria that her adopted daughter had collected the boy and those two strays in a few short weeks. Diana had a soft spot for the lonely and rejected. Perhaps because she’d felt lonely and rejected herself, first as a child off the orphan train, separated from her mother by death and from her siblings by fate, later as a wife abandoned by the man she’d loved.

How do I help her, Lord?

Gloria had heard Diana and Tyson arguing last night. Her bedroom door had been open, making it impossible for her
not
to hear.
And she didn’t blame her son-in-law for being angry about Brook’s inclusion at the dinner party. In her opinion, Tyson’s anger was justified. It showed the measure of the man that he had apologized despite being in the right.

Gloria was convinced now that Tyson loved Diana. He wanted their marriage to succeed far beyond November. His campaign for the Senate—earnest though it was—was only the excuse he’d used to get Diana into his home so he might prove he was a changed man.

She shook her head, smiling to herself. Tyson wasn’t the only one who’d changed. Gloria had changed too. Just a few short weeks ago, she’d been afraid of what tomorrow might bring. But fear—her constant companion since the death of her husband—had lost its grip on her heart. A miracle of sorts.

Now she needed another miracle. She needed a way to stop her daughter from throwing away happiness with both hands.

Diana set Tiger on the blanket and watched to see what the cat would do with a bit more freedom. After two weeks of good care and plenty of food, Tiger had grown hale and hardy. There wasn’t a good reason to keep her shut in Diana’s room anymore—with the possible exception of protecting her from Mrs. Cuddy.