Love and Triumph: The Coltrane Saga, Book 8 (14 page)

My future
, Marilee silently scoffed. Why was it everyone wanted to plan her life for her? Didn’t what
she
wanted count…even if she didn’t know what it was she did want? Last night something wonderful had happened, and if she never learned the identity of the man responsible, she would forever be in his debt for the awakening of a new self-awareness, for she had learned one important thing—there was nothing wrong with her! Rudolf just didn’t make her feel like a woman—the way she so desperately wanted, and needed, to feel.

“I won’t allow you to go with me,” Jade went on to say. “Besides, if you left, too, Rudolf would blame his mother, and the poor soul has enough trouble without her son hating her forever.”

That, Marilee dismally agreed, was true. Besides, she was not altogether sure she wanted to go back to Spain. She had her own money. She could stay till things were smoothed over between Rudolf and his mother, then find a small apartment in Zurich and live there till it was safe to return to Paris and Daniberry. But, of course, she was not about to tell Jade of her plans, because she’d have a fit to think of her living alone.

“If you feel so sorry for her,” Marilee suddenly pointed out, “why are you leaving? Rudolf will be angry with her over that, you know. What not stay a few more days just to smooth things over?”

“I’m sorry. It’s best I leave now.”

“But will you at least wait till morning?”

Jade sighed. “I guess so.”

Marilee grinned, elated. “Good. Maybe by then I can change your mind.”

Jade knew that was not going to happen but did not say so, and Lord, she hated to lie, but she had no intention of staying till morning. As soon as she could sneak away, she would. “I’m going to call a taxi to take this trunk on to the train station and get it checked.”

Marilee then left to find Rudolf. He was in the parlor, sitting by the fireplace looking doleful and forlorn as he sipped a brandy.

Marilee watched him from the doorway for a moment before entering. She revered him as a friend, could not bear to see him so distressed. Walking over, she knelt before him and gently said, “Don’t feel bad, Rudolf. And don’t be angry with your mother. Drinking is a sickness. She can’t help herself.”

He shook his head. “There’s no excuse for what she did. How is Jade?” he asked worriedly.

“She’s upset. She’s in her room, packing, determined to leave. I got her to wait till morning, but she’s having her trunk sent to the station tonight.”

Rudolf suppressed a gasp of joy. Everything was falling into place. When Jade disappeared during the night, Marilee would merely think she’d not kept her promise to stay till morning.

Struggling to keep his voice even so his apprehension would not show, he pressed for reassurance. “You’re sure she won’t leave till morning? We have till then…to change her mind?” he hesitantly added.

Marilee nodded.

Reaching to lovingly caress her cheek with his fingertips, he whispered, “I’ll make it all up to you, I swear. I want only sunshine for you, Marilee, the happiness of sunshine and the contentment of blue skies…and love.”

Marilee tensed, then withdrew from his touch. “You don’t owe me anything, Rudolf. And you mustn’t think any of this is your fault. Now…” She got to her feet, escaping his attempted embrace. “It’s time to dress for dinner.”

He did not protest. He also had things to do, and it was difficult to keep from trembling in anticipation.

Dinner was uncomfortable for everyone, a meal eaten in silence. Jade and Elenore finished quickly and left the room as soon as they could.

“I think we should retire to the parlor for a sherry,” Rudolf said when at last he and Marilee were alone.

Marilee agreed, wanting to speak her mind and get it over with.

When they were settled, once more before the fireplace, she did not give him a chance to embrace her or kiss her, for she maneuvered herself to the far end of the sofa and turned sideways to face him squarely as she firmly declared, once and for all, “I think it’s time we understood each other, Rudolf.”

He was momentarily taken aback but murmured, “Well, yes, I suppose—”

“I don’t want to marry you,” she rushed on to say. “Not now. Maybe not ever. There is nothing wrong with me. Nothing wrong with you. We just weren’t meant for each other, that’s all. I like you for a friend, and maybe once I thought I might be falling in love with you. But I’m not. Someday I might feel different, but for now, I won’t consent to be your wife.”

Rudolf listened, wide-eyed and astonished. Never had he heard her sound so—so
in control
.
She was firm, resolute, and he could tell by the way she held herself, looked at him, that if he made one move toward her right then, she’d push him away. With a nervous little laugh, he said, “You don’t mean this, Marilee, any of it. You’re just angry about my mother causing your aunt to leave, and you won’t admit it, but you’re mad all the same and this is your way of punishing me. You love me, and you know it.”

Staunchly, she disagreed and pointed out, “I never led you on. I never said I loved you. I only agreed to give us time to find out how we feel about each other, and you wouldn’t give me that. You’ve pressured me, and that’s not fair.”

Infuriated, he could only tightly mumble, “I see!” and reach for the bottle of sherry on the coffee table.

“My aunt and your mother have nothing to do with it.”

“That, I
don’t
see!” he snapped irritably, then asked incredulously, “And you accuse
me
of being unfair? It’s certainly not my fault your aunt hasn’t got sense enough to keep her mouth shut about being a Romanov, for God’s sake. Anyone with a grain of sense would know that’s not something you brag about these days, especially to an Austrian!”

Marilee was struggling for control but could feel her temper rising. “Then, you should have told us that before you invited us here.”

He nodded, laughing cynically. “Oh, I should’ve known there would be a problem, all right. Imperialists are like that—bragging about who they are to make sure everybody else knows. And besides, we both know the only way I got you here was to invite
her
,
too.”

That did it.

And Rudolf knew it.

Marilee bolted up from the sofa, and he was right behind her to grab her arm and hold her back, instantly contrite. “Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean it. It’s just that I love you, and you’re making me crazy.”

Marilee sighed, sank back onto the sofa once more. “Above all, I want us to be friends, and friends aren’t supposed to hurt each other.”

“Oh, God, Marilee…” He sat down beside her, tried to take her in his arms, but she struggled against him. “Don’t you know I’d never intentionally hurt you? And you might think you don’t love me, but you do. You’ve just got so much on your mind right now. Thanks to my mother, your aunt is leaving, and you’re worried about that. And you’ve got your father to be concerned about, too. Don’t you think I know all that?”

“I can take care of myself, Rudolf. Never, ever think that I can’t.”

His soft laugh was patronizing. “Oh, I know you think that, darling, but the truth is you need a man, and—”

“Wait a minute!” Marilee held up her hand for silence. Oh, dear Lord, enough had gone on this day, she thought furiously, and the last thing she wanted was another scene. “I need a man for one thing—love.
Not
to take care of me! And I’m getting a little sick and tired of you and my family thinking I’m some empty-headed piece of fluff who can’t get by without one!”

“Every woman needs a husband to take care of her.”

“Really?” She sniffed with disdain. “It might come as a shock to you, Rudolf, but a man has
never
taken care of me. My father, though I worship the ground he walks on, left me when I was an infant in the care of my grandmother, and it was she who took care of me. Not a man. And when I was placed in a finishing school, as my mother had wanted for me, I was never taken care of by a man. There were matrons, dear Rudolf. So believe me when I say that if and when I do marry, it will be for one reason and one reason only—that I can get something from a man I can’t get from myself!”

“Dear God!” he breathed, awed and astonished to hear such profundity from a lady.

“Now, good night!”

She hurried from the room before he could stop her, not that he was about to try. He also had had enough for one day.

He threw his glass into the fireplace, then turned the sherry bottle up to his lips and drank it down in great gulps. He needed something stronger, would have something stronger, for this night he knew sleep would not come easily. Oh, he didn’t really care about Marilee running out on him. Let her have a few hours’ sleep. Before morning, she would give him what he wanted…or he would take it by force.

Marilee ran all the way to her room, threw herself on her bed in a fit of turmoil. But she was exhausted, and sleep came quickly.

Hours later she awoke with a start, and, though groggy, she was instantly aware that she had to do something. Things just could not go on as they were. Spoiled and used to having his own way, Rudolf would not stop trying to persuade her to marry him, and they could never have a merely platonic relationship.

Her final, and perhaps most painfully sober realization, there in the middle of the night, was that she really had no option except to go back to Spain with Jade. After all, there was a war going on, and it was dangerous for her to remain alone even in Zurich. At least in Spain she would be safe, and her father would know where to contact her when he was ready.

She got up, realized she was still wearing what she had worn to dinner, and decided to change into a nightgown and robe before telling Jade her decision. No matter that her aunt had said she could not leave with her; Jade would soon realize she had no choice.

Opening the door of her room, Marilee stepped out into the hallway and frowned at the darkness. Usually there was a light, but tonight there was none. And she could not hear any sounds anywhere. Well, no matter. She knew her way—down the hall, down the steps, and Jade’s room was at the bottom. She would not risk turning on lights and perhaps waking someone, particularly Rudolf.

Groping along, she reached the stairs, used the cold stone wall to feel her way along, moving as fast as she dared, anxious to reach Jade’s room.

Finally she found her door and knocked softly.

There was no answer.

With trembling fingers she reached for the knob, turned it, was relieved when the door opened. Thank God, it wasn’t locked or she’d have had to make noise to be heard, which might have brought Rudolf, and she certainly did not want that.

Stepping inside, she felt her heart constrict with dread, for she sensed, despite being eclipsed in total darkness, that Jade was not there.

She turned on a light, glanced about quickly to realize her fears were confirmed, and, at the same instant, felt awash with sudden loneliness.

The bed was still neatly made, and she saw a note on the pillow. Stiffly, she walked over to pick it up and became incensed as she read what her aunt had written.

Jade said she felt it best to just slip away quietly, for fear Marilee might be swayed by family loyalty and insist on going with her if she stayed till morning. Again she urged Marilee to give Rudolf, and her heart, chance to put aside worries over her father for the time being, and to concentrate instead on her own life, her own happiness and future.

Marilee ground her teeth together to suppress a scream of rage, wadded the note into a tight ball, and threw it across the room.

Damn her
,
she fumed. Damn her, Jade had
lied
! Oh, it was so obvious now—how nervous she had been at dinner, how anxious to leave the table, intending the whole time to be on the midnight train out of Zurich.

Now what was she going to do?

She had no idea, knew only that she felt more alone than ever before in her life…and also very, very tired.

Turning out the light, she wearily crawled into Jade’s bed, pulling the blankets up tightly around her.

At least Rudolf would never think to look for her there, and in the morning, she would feel better and could make plans.

She dozed off, falling into a deep slumber…a
vulnerable
slumber, for later, when her nostrils suddenly burned with a strange, penetrating odor, she could not react, could do nothing but succumb to the yet deeper sleep that took her down, down, down to murky depths of unconsciousness.

Chapter Fifteen

The effects of the chloroform began to wear off.

Marilee opened her eyes to the grim sensation of being imprisoned in a sea of mud. She could not move any part of her body, and there was a great roaring in her ears, like a train chugging madly down a mountain, faster, faster—till it became a shrill scream.

She swallowed. Her throat was raw, burning.

She blinked but still could not see anything.

Then she felt something soft against her face, groggily realized it was a cloth of some kind. A stab of fright, her first real emotion, jolted her as she realized her head was encased in some sort of sack.