Dark Splendor (24 page)

“You know of his accident?”

“It is common knowledge that his mother had
hold of his hand when the accident occurred. When the riverbank
gave way she fell, pulling him with her so that Willy was badly
injured when his mother was killed.” He paused to take a deep
breath. “Perhaps now that he has taken a wife, Willy will end his
seclusion.”

“I think not,” Silvia flared. So Wilhelm
truly had not confided even to family members that Magda’s death
was no accident. When Vivien had told her so, Silvia had not
believed her. It seemed impossible that no one would uncover the
truth; that all would believe Wilhelm unconditionally. Yet therein
lay Silvia’s gravest worry. Would they all believe Wilhelm so
strongly that no one, not even Roman, would trust what she had to
say?

“Oh, Roman...” She fought to gain control of
her tumbling emotions. “You must know that things are not always as
they appear.”

His jaw twitched. “If I would forget, you
have given me a sharp reminder.”

“Roman, you must understand. Willy is...”
She bit her lip. A burning image of Wilhelm Schlange’s cold,
threatening countenance flashed in her mind and she relented of
saying more. Willy’s life rested with her, and the risk was too
great. Nor was she certain Roman would believe her. She realized
that at this particular moment, he might not believe anything she
said.

“If you are about to tell me Willy’s health
precludes the vigor you require, I can only state that you entered
willingly into the marriage. I do not desire the dubious honor of
warming your bed when your husband is indisposed.”

She laughed, a sad, hopeless little laugh
that he mistook for sauciness.

“Have you no shame, Silvia?”

“Indeed I do, an endless amount,” she
answered sadly. “More than you can ever know.”

He hesitated a moment. “I wish that I could
see it, that I could believe it.”

“What do you see, Roman, when you look at me
now?” She stretched out her hands to his chest, remembering
sorrowfully how that day on the beach he had said she was a
treasure more valued than gold. Her fingers desperately clutched
the ruffles of his shirt as her eyes pleaded for his
understanding.

“I see a woman aptly named, Silvia Schlange.
I see another viper for this island, one who masquerades as a
pretty, tempting scrap of ribbon and once touched becomes a
poisonous, biting snake.”

“No,” she whispered.

“Yes.” The scorn in his voice made her
tremble. “A viper.” A snarl twisted his face. “And still I find it
hard to stay my hand.”

He took her in his arms roughly, his mouth
coming down on hers hard and searching. There was no gentleness in
his kiss. It was a bittersweet assault to her senses, like being
set on fire, wanting him and wanting him to let her go because she
knew his thoughts. She was caught up in the fury of his embrace as
if she had been captured by a sudden storm. His arms crushing her
were like thunder, his kiss a searing bolt of lightning, and then,
too suddenly, it was over and he was gone like an angry gust of
wind.

Silvia stood alone in the semidarkness,
trembling, remembering the rage etched upon his face.

***

Martha busied around in her parlor, smiling
gaily as she took a pinch of herbs first from one silver-topped jar
and then from another. She blended the assortment together into an
empty container and measured out an amount of the new mixture,
adding it to a small teapot. On the sofa, Eric sat very upright and
stiff.

“I fear you are right, Martha dear. In spite
of Uncle’s reassurances, there are bound to be changes.”

“Do not concern yourself about it, Eric.”
Her voice was light and consoling. “I am confident they will amount
to little.”

You say that, and yet Uncle has removed you
as mistress of Serpent Tree Hall.” Eric’s vexation was evident. “I
am surprised, Martha. You don’t seem at all disturbed, and just a
few hours ago you were furious at him.”

“That was before I gave it fair
consideration,” Martha answered fervently. “Uncle has assured us we
have no reason for concern. Why should I despair that Willy has
taken a wife?” An expression of satisfaction shone in her eyes as a
radiant smile curved her lips. “Perhaps soon I will have a husband
of my own.”

Eric looked up quickly, and his voice rose
in surprise. “Is there some news you are keeping from me, Martha
love?”

Martha’s lashes coyly brushed her cheekbones
as she laughed lightly. “None that I will not keep awhile longer.”
She hurriedly completed her preparations of the special tea and
rang for Anna to take the pot up to Silvia.

“I confess, Martha, I had thought Uncle
would divide his estate among us all. Now it seems that may not be
his plan. It may be that Willy will inherit in full and we will be
as we are now, working the estate and owning nothing.”

“It is not like you to think so, Eric. I
fear the brandy has had an ill effect on you.” She moved swiftly to
his side and comfortingly closed her hand over his. “One day the
land will be yours.” Her smile was reassuring. “Uncle knows how you
love it and how you’ve cared for it. It will be yours.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“I am sure because it is what is right. You
must believe it too.”

“She has changed our lives,” Eric said
broodingly. “Who would have thought it, a woman we have never seen
or heard of comes, and all our lives change. Our future is
altered.”

“Eric, you must trust me. Nothing will
change.”

“I hope you are right, sister.” Eric stood
and stretched restlessly. He put his arm around Martha’s shoulder
and kissed her cheek affectionately. “Good night, dear Martha.”

Martha smiled and patted his cheek with
sisterly consolation. A moment later Anna bustled in and past Eric
as he was leaving the parlor.

“You wanted me, madam?”

Martha’s expression had grown aloof. “Take
this tea up to Mrs. Schlange,” she said resolutely. “I promised it
to her.”

“To Mrs. Schlange, madam? Who would that
be?”

“Your new mistress, Anna.” She passed the
linen-draped silver tray into Anna’s waiting hands. Slowly Martha
lifted her head and smiled her slow, sweet smile. “Silvia
Bradstreet Schlange, wife of Willy Schlange.”

“Oh, yes, madam, I’ll take it right up.”
Anna’s face reddened and her eyes came alive with the excitement of
the gossip she had just learned. How the servants’ quarters would
sing when she got back with these juicy tidings. “The new mistress
you say?” Her plump cheeks shook with a nervous giggle. “Fancy
that, Mr. Willy married and none of us suspectin’ such a thing, him
bein’ an invalid and all.”

“That will be all, Anna,” Martha said
firmly, her aristocratic chin raised high.

“Excuse me, madam, will Mrs. Schlange still
be in the Emerald Suite?” Anna’s eyes fell beneath Martha’s stern
regard.

“Yes.” Martha brushed away the bits of dried
leaves and a fine powdery residue on her tea table. “I believe you
will find her there.”

Anna fairly bustled away in her haste to get
upstairs, anxious to further ingratiate herself with the new
mistress of the hall. It would be a welcome change, to her mind.
She had liked the young woman from the beginning. She was friendly
and polite even to a servant girl, so unlike Martha Muller, whom
all the servants thought cold as a fish. Yes, she surmised as she
rounded the gilt rail at the head of the stairs, Serpent Tree Hall
could do with a mistress that had a sunny disposition.

Anna helped Silvia undress and brushed out
the raven locks she herself had so carefully arranged earlier.
Silvia had accepted her congratulations rather reticently and Anna
had marked it down to shyness, never guessing the trepidation
filling her mistress’s heart. A scarce quarter-hour later Anna was
back in the kitchen spreading her surprising news to any she caught
sight of. By morning the word would be spread to even the remotest
corners of the island and everyone on the Schlange estate would
know there was a new mistress at Serpent Tree Hall.

***

The same news that caused a spirited
commotion in the servants’ quarters brought pandemonium of quite
another sort to the Toller brothers. Roman had left Silvia and gone
directly out-of-doors, thinking the cool fresh air might restore
his temper to a tolerable level. He had not expected to encounter
Morgan also taking the night air, and certainly he was in no mood
for his brother’s pointed gibes this evening.

Roman swept a hand through the shock of
blond hair that persisted in falling across his forehead. He leaned
against the wall of the fountain pool and watched water cascade
into the air before forming a silver spray that splashed into the
dark pool below. Around him gawky shadows crept across the
courtyard, a creation of moonlight falling through the turrets and
high angled walls of the castle.

Roman rubbed his brow. There was serenity in
the water, a soothing peace he needed until he could put his
emotions in order. It was not like him to lose his head over a
woman. And not, he resolved bitterly, a thing he was likely to do
again.

“And what do you make of the evening’s
events, my good man?” Morgan Toller cocked his head to one side as
he approached his brother. He grinned wryly and a look of mischief
sparked an iridescent light in his eyes.

Roman’s shoulders jerked up and his brow
creased in a deep frown. The stars were bright and Morgan could see
his brother’s face well enough to note the scowl.

“What Wilhelm chooses to do is no concern of
mine,” Roman growled.

Morgan regarded his brother with shrewd
eyes. “Not even if it costs you your ships?”

Roman tightened his lips and hammered a fist
against the stone wall of the fountain. “There are other
ships.”

“So there are.” Morgan rubbed his hand
thoughtfully across his cheek and paused for a moment with his
fingers resting reflectively on his chin. He looked around the
garden curiously. “Are you alone, brother? Or perhaps waiting for
someone? Martha, by chance?” Morgan’s laugh was a low throaty
chuckle ending with a grin that formed tiny crescents of matching
dimples in the corners of his mouth.

Roman whirled about and faced his brother
squarely. His dark brows furrowed, hooding the fury in his eyes. “I
have noticed a change in her attitude toward me recently. So you
are responsible for setting Martha on me.” He scowled. “She has
been misled, and I should have realized it sooner. And I should
have known you had a hand in it.”

“I am falsely accused, Roman.” He laughed.
“The poor girl is smitten with you. Hopes you’ll settle down to
marry her one day.”

“Dammit, man!” Roman burst out angrily, the
blue of his eyes darkening like a tumultuous sea. The stubborn lock
of hair dropped over his forehead again and he unconsciously swiped
at it with his hand. “Don’t you know when you have passed the point
of mischief? A man should not trifle in matters of affection.”

“Ha!” Morgan’s brows rose in feigned
surprise. “You dare to accuse me of trifling in affairs of the
heart. I have not dilly-dallied with my cousin’s wife. And as for
Martha, she has hardly made a pretense of her interest in you. Nor
had you seen fit to discourage it until you met Silvia.”

Roman felt his blood boiling. His brother
was not above such a trick as convincing poor Martha to pursue him.
“I remember well enough when she seemed equally divided in her
interests. I think perhaps she even preferred you to me.” So Morgan
had falsely encouraged Martha simply to annoy him or to pay back
some chicanery. “I seem to recall that on our last visit to Serpent
Tree Hall, she underwent a sudden shift in emotions after a morning
ride with you.”

Morgan shrugged innocently. “I merely
mentioned you would be heartbroken to think she preferred me. That
you had spoken of marriage but feared a rejection and hadn’t the
courage to speak.” He shifted his gaze to the shimmering water and
seemed to concentrate on the play of moonlight there before he
looked up and smiled. “An unreproachful remark.”

Roman clenched his teeth and the veins stood
out in his temples. “And I suppose it was you who told her my
attention to Silvia was meant to make her jealous?”

“Was it not?” Morgan asked teasingly, though
he irritated his brother into a fury he did not fully expect.

Roman’s nostrils flared and a muscle
convulsed angrily in his jaw. “Morgan, this time you have gone too
far. How am I to extricate myself from this entanglement without
offending Martha?” It took all his control to repress the urge to
punch Morgan’s smirking face.

Set at naught by his brother’s wrath, Morgan
replied with smooth deliberation, “Why, Roman, now that Miss
Bradstreet is no longer available to distract you, the solution is
evident.” A devilish smile flickered on his lips. “You marry
Martha.”

Roman’s eyes narrowed with simmering rage,
and yet the blazing fury of his gaze seemed to look right through
Morgan, to be directed at something far away.

Morgan stared back triumphantly, but his
gloating was to be short-lived. A moment later his jaw dropped open
in astonishment at his brother’s reply.

“Perhaps I will.”

“She is interfering. You must stop it.”
Vivien’s face was mottled with anger; the first sign of strong
emotion Silvia had ever seen her display. Her black eyes flashed
with a frightening intensity and Silvia had an uncomfortable
thought that she much preferred Vivien’s silent hostility to this
outburst.

Yet there was no help for it. If in a few
weeks the castle had become like a prison for Silvia, how much more
so it must be for poor Willy, who was rarely allowed out of his
chambers. She would insist on certain changes in his treatment.