Chelynne (21 page)

She was caught up in arms with an iron grip. His face was so close to hers that she could feel his breath in her half-open mouth. She had never been so afraid of him as she was at this moment.

“I have no bastards, Gwen. And since I’ve had done with you I have no whore. Take care that I don’t hear absurdities from you or I promise you...you’ll regret it.”

The drawing room doors stood open and there in their frame was a small figure in swirling skirts. Chelynne hesitated, arms out and palms turned up as if in embarrassed apology, watching their close embrace. “I...I’m sorry,” she stammered. Chad released Gwen so abruptly she almost fell to the floor. He started toward his wife, but with a strangled cry she fled up the stairs.

All the way up the stairs Chelynne thought wildly: apologizing to my husband for seeing him in another woman’s arms in my own house. Heaven above! She found her room and with a shriek she slammed the door. Stella came running to see what so upset her mistress and found Chelynne pacing angrily to and fro about the room.

Here I play the well-trained wife, she silently raged. Watching my husband from the greatest distance, seeing to his comfort as he would allow it, playing the perfect hostess to his friends, even his mistress, begging the slightest kiss as reward while he beds that whore beneath my nose! And loving him! Wanting him! Willing to wait for his good favors to turn to me! Ha! How could he ever need me when the wenches are groveling at his feet and displaying their treasures? How could he desire me when every noble dame seeks to bring him ease? Fool of fools, playing the game and biding my time!

The door to her bedroom opened and Chad strode in, an angry frown on his handsome face. He pointed a finger to Stella, who shifted from foot to foot, uneasy with this fury that seemed to have gripped them both. “Out!” he commanded. The old woman fled, twisting her hands nervously.

Chelynne faced him boldly. “Have you come to explain once again, my lord?”

“I need not explain myself to you. Calm down and listen to me. Gwen seeks only to shake your confidence. Do not judge me on what you perchance see, for you do not know the circumstances.”

“Pray tell me what I need to know of circumstances that find you clutching her body so closely. Did she perhaps faint?”

“Twas in anger I held her, not passion!”

“Tell me then what I must do to anger you to that point! Tell me what hateful sin I must commit to find myself in my husband’s arms! You must think me a shallow-witted fool!”

“Not shallow-witted, but narrow-minded for certain.”

“Get out!”

His face was a stony surface of utter rage. “You do not order me here,” he said slowly. “Now freshen yourself and cool your temper so you might play the hostess.”

“On my word, you expect me to play hostess to your whore?”

“Chelynne,” he warned.

“Nay! I’ll not coddle that bitch and welcome her into my home to sit and watch as she fondles my husband! Seek out another fool to play your games!”

“You will do as I say!”

“I will not let you shame me to that end!” Angry tears streaked down her cheeks. “You may play your affections on any ready slut while I sit in patient exile and wait for you to come to me in all good time, but I’ll not help your cause! Tell me, my lord, is my lady Graystone one of your little problems on which my exile is bent?”

“She is nothing to me! Cease your accusations! I’ll not answer to them!”

She clenched her fists in utter rage, her eyes clamped shut and her mouth forming a straight, tight line. “What am I to you, my lord?” she asked evenly. “Am I servant? Housekeeper? Ornament to add to your collection? Am I even friend?”

“You are my wife!”

“Am I? Upon God’s own Word, am I even that? Nay! I am guest in this house and one of little importance. I’ve seen you treat the animals in your stable with more consideration than you do me!” She walked closer to him and looked up into those brooding gray eyes bravely, heedless of her own tears. “Nay, Chad. I’ll warm your meals and wait upon your pleasure, I’ll see your rooms in order and keep the staff at your disposal. I’ll play the mistress for you if you will it, but I’ll not grovel before your whore. You may use me, my lord, but not to that end. I said my vows before God and will heed them true, but I think this is too much to ask of any wife, however unimportant.”

He looked down at her in wonder, this being the first time her temper was turned to him. He had watched her with Shayburn but hadn’t put much stock in it. He wouldn’t have expected his mild-mannered wife to behave this boldly.

“A proud vixen,” he muttered.

“Aye,” she said. “Your purse allows me treasures aplenty and comforts I might never have known, but all I have to soothe my injury is my pride and whatever dignity I will fight for. When you have stripped me of even that...I will be gone.”

“I would not have guessed that under your gentle cover there was such courage and conviction. Tell me,” he said, lifting a curl from her shoulder. “What is it you’re fighting for here?”

“My feelings are not secret to you. I’ll not ply you now with words of love. In truth, I am beginning to wonder myself what I am fighting for.”

“Then find your cause lest you know no reason for victory or defeat. Come now, we dine soon.”

“No, lord. I’ll not play the hostess.”

“It is within my right by law to beat you.”

She gnashed her teeth and turned from him, walking to her cupboard in which her riding crop was stored. She returned to him and offered that as a weapon. “Shall I bare my back, my lord?” she ground out, her eyes glistening with determination.

“You do not do battle in any small way, my lady,” he said softly, taking strange pleasure in her action. “Would you truly be driven to lashings to prove a point?”

“Aye, my lord, even that. It is the part of the servant to take thrashings and I am not more than that in your eyes. Yet even a servant, I think, must maintain a measure of self-worth.”

“More countess than servant, I think.” He reached out and touched her cheek but she stepped back and would not allow his gentleness. He laughed softly. “And though it is not that yet, in time my lady Graystone will have to learn to wait upon your pleasure. ‘Twould be a good lesson for her. You have my leave to stay in your rooms. I will see to her comfort.”

“I’m certain that you will,” she bit out icily.

Again he laughed, amused and no longer angry. “Jealousy does you well, Chelynne. I hadn’t thought I was that important to you.”

Hatred welled up in her at the sound of his mocking tone and she lifted a small statue from her table to hurl at him. He ducked the piece easily and his laughter filled the room. “I think I should warn Lady Graystone as well, that you are not so gentle natured as she thinks. Indeed, I think the good lady is in mortal danger.”

With a last laugh he was gone and she threw herself on her bed and had a most fitting tantrum. It suited her age far better than the words spoken earlier.

Stella was accustomed to spoiling her young ward, giving in to her rages and seeking to please her with any conceivable means. But now, in this situation, Stella could do nothing. The tantrum blended into tears and sobs that shook her young body until she slept.

In all good time she awoke and regained a bit of her composure. She allowed Stella to help her out of her dress to don a more comfortable dressing gown. A small draught of something was brought to settle her nerves and she consented to receive a meal. She stood at her window and stared out over the Hawthorne lands as a serving maid prepared her table. With a deep sigh she turned to attend her lonely meal and saw that the table had been appointed for two. A tear came to her eye and traced its way slowly down her cheek.

“Take the other dishes away,” she pleaded softly. “I dine alone.”

“But my lady,” the girl argued. “My lord bade me attend you and call him when you’re ready.”

“Where is he?” she asked in surprise.

The girl simply pointed to the sitting room door and Chelynne stared at it, disbelieving, and then opened it. Chad sat at a table in that room and appeared to be writing, but at the sound of the opening door he stopped, looked in her direction, and smiled.

“Are you ready to sup, my love?”

She nodded dumbly and he rose to come to her. He, too, was comfortably attired in a dressing gown, black velvet breeches underneath.

“Where is Lady Graystone?” she asked in confusion.

“She dines alone.” He shrugged. “She has a hellish nature. It will do her good.”

She smothered a giggle. “The word will be out that we’re not fit company.”

“I don’t think so, Chelynne. Gwen wouldn’t let it get out that I dined with my wife and left her to eat alone. The word will be very different, so prepare yourself.”

“She would lie?”

Chad laughed. “Chelynne, you’re going to be miserable if you carry on with this blind trust you have in everyone you meet. Of course she would lie. She would lie, cheat, steal, do whatever she has to do to see things her way.”

“What excuse did you give?”

“I gave her none. She deserved none.”

“You’re most gallant, my lord, to help me pass away this lonely time when one so eager awaits your pleasure.”

Chad frowned, not knowing if this was her naïveté speaking or if under that simple cover there was a sharp and quick cynicism. “Not gallant, my dear. You are mine by law and I am responsible for you. I told you well and honestly that you would not find handsome husbandly qualities in me, but I promised you your due.”

“You’re overkind,” she murmured somberly, thinking she had never been told more plainly that she was an obligation neither loved nor desired.

As he held her chair for her he spoke matter-of-factly. “Because I take my obligations seriously makes me neither kind nor cruel, Chelynne. And never will I allow such a temper in my presence again. Were it not for the fact that your anger was justified and you were within rights to assume the worst of Gwen and me, I would never have allowed your rage. You might wish to remember that.”

“Husband mine,” she sighed. “You go to such trouble to make me wary of my life with you. I wonder why.”

He seated himself across from her and raised his glass. “I wonder myself, Chelynne.”

He would have expected to see those brown eyes fill with tears again but when he looked at her he saw a faint smile. “Methinks to find that servant’s garb and steal a fine horse. I might yet find the merits to being a mistress instead of a wife.”

He raised an eyebrow in question. Good God, she was reaching a point inside him where he actually wondered about her, wondered what she thought and felt. Women didn’t usually affect him in that way. And their emotions were a burden to him, not a curiosity.

“The house in London, Chad,” she began. “What is it like?”

“It’s nothing so large as this, nor so fine as the earl’s home in the city, but it is mine and it will do. Functional for my purposes at least. If the earl is able to travel to London he will occupy his own lodgings and we will stay at my home.”

“Two fine homes in one family? Isn’t that odd?”

“My major concern before my father called me home was shipping. It brought me to London regularly and I finally decided to buy the house a friend was selling. It is closer to the merchant populace than noble, but in every way a fine aristocratic home. I happen to prefer it.”

“When do you suppose we’ll go?”

“That depends on the weather and the earl. A month, maybe more; I can’t say. I’ve a great deal that needs my attention there and I can’t wait very much longer to go.

“Playing the country gentleman is not my rote, Chelynne. I am a businessman and have several ships to my credit. It started with privateering and is a great deal more than that now. It is a legitimate merchanting operation. However bound I am to the court and Bryant, my businesses will be my major concern. That, you see, is something I made for myself...without anyone’s help.”

“And will you sail?” she asked hesitantly.

“Not in the immediate future, but that may become necessary. I have a plantation in Jamaica and land in Virginia. I plan to operate from here for as long as I can, but I may have to go to Jamaica...time will tell. It would suit me fine to have no ties here.”

She had placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward, listening to his every word. It was in fact the first time he had told her anything about himself. “Virginia,” she mused aloud. “In the Americas...”

“The most magnificent wilderness ever to behold. A noble that I met nearly twenty years ago moved his family there. I planned a visit and a cargo or two of tobacco, but I stayed for a few months, and it was never tiresome for a moment.”

“Years ago?” He seemed ageless to her. He was seventeen years older than she, but he had done so much living. In the last twenty years he had lived more than many men did in an entire lifetime.

“That was only four years ago. I met Lord Sutherland at the Hague and he chose a plantation in Virginia for his family rather than begging back his lands from the king.

“The plantations there are sophisticated in some areas, yet not far beyond every man’s boundary there are hundreds of miles of untouched wilderness. Tribes of savages inhabit most of the country. I swear that a man could wander to his death.” He laughed softly. “Perhaps it’s a blessing I’m bound to this. It could be extremely dangerous.”