Best Kept Secrets (32 page)

Teresa concentrated on placing one silk-covered foot in front of the other as she stared through the white veil at one of the two
formally dressed men standing at the altar. She pulled her mesmerizing gaze from Samuel’s startled one and smiled at Everett.

Ramon Maldonado lifted the small gloved hand resting on his suit jacket, placing it in Everett Kirkland’s outstretched one. He nodded to his impending son-in-law, stepped back and sat down beside his wife, who dabbed her eyes with a lace-trimmed handkerchief.

Ramon wanted to see all of his children married, his daughter in particular, but he’d wanted her to wait until she’d graduated from nursing school. He wanted to tell everyone that his daughter would be the first Maldonado to graduate from college, but that accomplishment would have to wait.

Everett had promised him that he would see that Teresa completed her education even if she did become a mother. The accountant said he wanted to marry Teresa and father a child before he celebrated his thirty-fourth birthday. As it was, he’d thought of himself as too old for marriage and fatherhood. The younger man had also offered a dowry for the hand of his daughter. It was enough money for the Maldonados, with the sum they’d saved, to purchase a house of their own.

Teresa stared up at Everett staring down at her. She had to admit he looked incredibly handsome in his wedding finery. A mysterious light fired the deep-set gold eyes that reminded her of honey.

During the past weeks she’d spent as much time as she could with her fiancé, hoping to know him better before she became Mrs. Everett Kirkland. Her life had changed drastically since she’d accepted his proposal and his ring: she’d submitted a letter asking for an official leave of absence from her classes for the school year, tendered her resignation with ColeDiz, moved all of her clothes and personal possessions into the house in the Palm Grove Oval, and had begun looking for furniture for one of the two empty bedrooms. She decided to wait until April to decorate the nursery. Her doctor had estimated her date of delivery anytime between late April to mid-May.

She and Everett had argued the day following their engagement. Samuel and his wife had offered their home for the wedding reception, and Everett said to refuse was not only discourteous but unappreciative. As before in all of their discussions, she’d found herself on the losing end, and invitations were sent out informing guests that a reception at the residence of Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Cole would follow the sacrament of holy matrimony at St. Ignatius R.C. Church.

Teresa repeated her vows, secretly wishing it were Samuel she was marrying. To the world she would be known as Mrs. Teresa Kirkland, but in her heart she would always be Mrs. Teresa Cole.

Everett raised Teresa’s veil and what he saw in her luminous eyes made him hopeful that maybe they could possibly become man and wife. That perhaps one day there would be enough respect
and
affection between them to present a modicum of normalcy to those outside the wall they’d erected to hide their best-kept secret.

Lowering his head, he wound an arm around her waist and gave her a chaste kiss. Just for an instant he felt her respond. “Congratulations, Mrs. Kirkland,” he whispered for her ears only.

Her eyes paled, appearing colorless. “No, Everett,” she whispered back, smiling for those observing the supposedly happy couple. “You’re the only winner here.”

What should’ve been one of the happiest days in his life suddenly soured for Everett. He and Teresa hadn’t mentioned Samuel since the time they’d argued about where the reception would be held, but it was apparent she wasn’t going to forgive him for overruling her.

He caught her hand as they turned to face those who’d come to witness their union. Squeezing her fingers in a deathlike grip, he forced a smile. “Not here, not today,” he ground out between his teeth. “Now smile pretty for the people,” he said, as if speaking to a child.

Teresa drew in a breath against the unyielding pressure on her hand, the gesture resembling a grimace. “Please.”

Bending slightly, Everett swept her up in his arms and carried her out of the church and into the bright Florida sunlight. Yards and yards of ivory silk flowed over the arm of his cutaway coat and down to his pale gray dress trousers.

Samuel, holding Liliana’s hand, followed the newlyweds, who were showered with handfuls of rice and orange blossoms. He waited for M.J. to emerge from the church with Martin and Nancy. He spied her with Ramon and Silvia Maldonado. A stylish cloche in sapphire-blue matched the silk dress, artfully disguising her expanding waistline. She’d followed her doctor’s instruction and hadn’t overtaxed herself. She and Belinda, who’d taken up residence in one of the bedroom suites, had truly become mother and daughter.

He caught M.J.’s eye, waved to her, then left to join the bride and groom for wedding pictures.

Teresa stood in the receiving line with her husband, thanking the people waiting to offer their best wishes. A large tent had been erected in the center of the boxwood English garden to protect the guests from the sun.

Most of the invited guests were friends of Samuel’s and Everett’s, and coworkers. Nora Harris had returned from Arkansas after burying her son. Depressed because he would have to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair, he’d put a second bullet in his own head, this one killing him instantly. Eddie Grady had come with his wife, and Joseph Hill, the part-time bookkeeper, had brought his girlfriend.

Nora kissed Teresa’s cheek, smiling. “Be happy. You’ve got yourself a good man.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Harris.”

Teresa saw her mother with M.J., the two women laughing like long-lost friends. Silvia was ecstatic that she’d found
someone from her homeland with whom to communicate. They had come from different social classes, but they still were Cuban women.

The last guest moved into the tent to be seated when Teresa leaned into her husband, a fixed smile on her lush mouth. “If you ever hurt me again I swear I’ll cut your heart out of your chest when you go to sleep.”

Everett froze and stared at her as if she’d suddenly gone insane. His eyes widened before he looked away. What had he gotten himself into?

Samuel had spared no expense for the reception. He’d hired two bands, one playing the pieces made popular by Edward “Duke” Ellington’s big band in Harlem’s Cotton Club, and he’d paid the traveling expenses of Havana’s top musicians to play at his best friend’s wedding reception.

Teresa picked at the food on her plate, preferring instead to drink water. The heat and the spicy food had triggered an unnatural thirst. The band slowed the tempo and she found herself pulled gently from her chair. It was time she danced with her husband. The hem of her flowing dress trailed over the grass as Everett led her to an expansive slate-covered area.

The sunlight glinted off the platinum waves framing her face as she stared up at her husband. “I hope you’re happy, Everett. You’ve saved your boss’s ass.”

His mouth tightening under his mustache, Everett pulled her closer, twirling her around and around. “I was only joking before when I said I would spank you, but if you push me I
will
beat the hell out of you, baby or no baby.”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

He tightened his hold on her waist. “Test me and you’ll find out.”

Teresa wasn’t able to form a comeback when she found herself in her father’s arms. Resting her head on his shoulder
as she’d done as a child, she felt safe and protected. However, that was short-lived when she detected the fragrance of the man who had forced her into a predicament from which there was no escape.

Samuel couldn’t take his gaze off the face of the woman in his arms. He found her more hypnotically alluring than when they had shared a bed for a few precious moments on an enchanting island paradise.

He was drowning, in her eyes and her sensual scent. “You are a beautiful bride.”

A sun-bleached eyebrow lifted. “Is that what you said to M.J. the day you married her?”

Samuel pulled her closer. “Don’t, Teresa. Don’t spoil your special day with bitterness.”

“You think I don’t have a right to be bitter? I’m carrying your child, yet I’m treated like a slave on the auction block. You’ve sold me because you want to protect your legitimate family and good name from scandal. Meanwhile your bastard will grow up to call another man father.”

“Do you think this has been easy for me? Do you know how difficult it is for me to know that another man will claim my flesh and blood as his own? If I hadn’t met M.J., there is no doubt you and I would’ve stood in that church and become husband and wife. You have a part of me that I’ve never given any woman. You are my weakness, my obsession,
Chica
. And I will never forget you or what we shared.”

“What we
share
,” she said softly, correcting him. “We share a child, Samuel.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Teresa. I’ve relinquished all claim to the child you carry. The only children I will acknowledge as Coles are the ones my wife gives me.”

The musical piece ended, and Samuel led Teresa back to Everett. He inclined his head. “Thank you for letting me dance with
your
wife.”

Teresa floundered in an agonizing maelstrom of despair and loneliness. She was in a garden with more than sixty people who were laughing, eating, dancing and drinking, but she couldn’t have felt more alone if she’d been locked in solitary confinement.

She replayed Samuel’s statement over and over until she felt like screaming at the top of her lungs. She hated him, she hated Everett, and she hated the woman whose claim on Samuel was unconditional.

“I’ll be right back,” she said to Everett. He pulled back her chair, helping her to stand.

Pasting a smile on her face, she headed for Marguerite-Josefina Cole. She touched her arm to get her attention, and a pair of large dark eyes crinkled in a smile.

“May I have a few words with you?” she asked in Spanish.

“Of course,” M.J. replied.

The two women walked a short distance. They were shielded from the others by an eight-foot hedge.

She and M.J. were physically complete opposites, yet both had won the affection of the same man. “I’m so overwhelmed with everything, and I’d like to thank you and your husband for your generosity in hosting my wedding reception.”

M.J.’s dimples deepened in a warm smile. “It was nothing. Samuel and Everett are like brothers, so there isn’t anything we wouldn’t do for him. I wish you and Everett a long and happy life together.”

“Thank you,” Teresa said facetiously. “I hope we’ll have half the happiness you share with Samuel.”

M.J. patted Teresa’s hand. “You’ll have what we have and so much more.”

“Like children?”

“Of course.”

“Samuel told me you are now carrying your third child.”

Placing a hand over her belly, M.J. nodded. “Yes, I am.”

A light went out from behind Teresa’s eyes as she glared at the slight swelling under the fashionable dress. “And I’m carrying his fourth.”

The blood drained from M.J.’s face, leaving it a sickly yellow shade. “What are you talking about?”

Vengeance, bitter as bile, swept over Teresa. “I’m also pregnant with Samuel’s baby. I only married Everett to save your husband’s reputation. I love him just that much.” She pressed her attack on seeing an expression of shock mar the beauty of the woman she hated for claiming what she wanted. “Samuel told me he married you for your money, but slept with me because he truly loves me.”

Lifting the hem of her gown, she turned and walked away from Mrs. Samuel Cole, feeling as if she had exacted a measure of revenge on the man who’d sold her to a man wherein by law she had to submit to his will.

Her husband rose to his feet with her approach. “I have to leave now.”

His brow furrowed. “But we haven’t cut the cake.”

She held his hand, her nails biting into the tender flesh on his palm. “I’m going to be sick, Everett. You don’t want everyone to know that your bride is with child so soon after the ceremony.”

As soon as the last word was out of her mouth, her eyes rolled back and she sagged weakly against him. He managed to catch her before she collapsed to the grass. Lifting her against his chest, he made his way over to Samuel.

“Please apologize to everyone for our hasty departure, but I’ve got to take her home.”

Samuel patted Everett’s shoulder. “I’ll take care of everything.”

M.J. had composed herself enough to confront her husband. She tapped his arm. “I need to see you in the house.”

He frowned at her. “Not now, darling.”

“Either it’s now or everyone will hear what I have to say to you,” she mumbled.

There was something in his wife’s gaze and in the tone of her voice that unnerved Samuel. “All right.” He excused himself and followed her into the house.

They stepped into the living room. “Talk, M.J.”

Shaking her head, she headed for the staircase. “Upstairs.”

Samuel had no choice but to follow her, his gaze lingering on her shapely legs in a pair of sheer black stockings. She slowly mounted the staircase, her hand gripping the banister.

Once in their bedroom, he turned and stared at her, his heart pumping uncontrollably. There was something wrong with his wife. Was it the baby?

“Sit down, darling.”

M.J. shook her head. “I don’t want to sit.”

“Are you all right?”

A slight smile curved her mouth. “Yes.”

“Then why are we here?”

Moving over to a small round table cradling a collection of egg-shaped crystals, she picked up one and launched it at his head. Samuel ducked just in time to avoid injury. It hit a wall, breaking into shards.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” she screamed before she launched another missile at him.

Samuel dodged this one, too. “What the hell are you talking about?”

The paperweights kept coming. “You fucked her!”

Samuel tried to get close enough to stop the assault, but M.J.’s aim was a little too accurate. “Who are you talking about?” A table lamp crashed inches from his feet.