Patricia Rice (41 page)

"Who is she?" he demanded.

Nicholas shrugged. "My sister. My half sister, to be perfectly correct."

Michael knew all about sisters. Unwillingly he lowered the saddle to the ground and returned to the fire. "She's colored," he stated flatly.

The expression on Nicholas's face wasn't pleasant. "You're Irish."

That riposte wasn't sufficient. Michael returned his glare. "Irish is good enough for colored."

"She could have had a damned marquis if she weren't so stubborn." Nicholas reached for the flask lying on its side.

"My sister's had a damned marquis, and I don't see that it's improved her any." Michael reached and grabbed the silver flask away, taking a deep drink.

Nicholas laughed hollowly and rubbed his hand over his face. "Oh, hell, what difference does it make? They'll do what they want anyway. The days when the man of the household makes the decisions seem to be gone."

"They never existed." Michael handed the flask back. "Men only thought they did. It was women who made the decisions, then twisted their men into believing it was their own thoughts. Seen it many a time. When did you ever see a woman do something she didn't want to?"

Nicholas closed his eyes to shut out the painful images. He had. He knew that he had. But it took violence to do it. Men could rule by violence. He had almost unleashed that propensity on Gabriella. Belle was quite right. He was a stupid, stupid man.

* * *

"You drink all that tea now. Since Marster Nick's been gone, you been lookin' puny. Miss Belle's potion will put you right." Annie fussed around the small room, dusting off the shelves, primping the new curtains while Eavin lay propped against her pillows sipping her breakfast.

Eavin didn't know if the tea made her feel any better. She certainly didn't feel any stronger. Actually, she rather thought she was growing weaker. The nights were filled with dreams of Nicholas until she woke up sweating, feeling his body inside hers, certain that he had come to her during the night. She literally ached with the need for him. She had never known such uncontrollable urges, but she didn't think Belle's tea had much to do with it. A month of abstinence was the more likely culprit.

"I think it will take something stronger than tea to face Gabriella this morning. I trust last night's callers have finally departed?"

Annie nodded. "Them gen'muns be awful sweet to a married lady. But they ain't gonna take kindly to you a'throwin' them out."

Eavin drained her tea and set it aside and prepared to face the day. She really couldn't believe the effrontery of Raphael Reyes appearing on their doorstep. She hadn't known him when he arrived. She had allowed him to enter with Alphonso, but she would have liked to have thrown him out on his ear when he was introduced. Instead she had simply risen and told Gabriella that it was inappropriate for them to entertain the gentleman. When Gabriella had refused to leave the room, Eavin had turned to
 
Hélène for assistance, but the older woman had oddly refused to concur.

It hadn't been a pleasant situation. Eavin had walked out, but Raphael had remained. She had successfully prevented the servants from bringing their guests refreshments. She had stationed Annie's Jim and several of the largest men in strategic places, some of them openly visible to their guests, but they hadn't taken the hint. They had remained for hours, making the timid Gabriella laugh and giggle and talk with their flow of Spanish as she hadn't done since she'd come here. And Hélène Saint-Just had sat there and allowed it.

Nicholas would have heart failure if he knew his first wife's lover was now entertaining his second wife. It didn't matter that Gabriella had once been betrothed to Raphael. She was married now, and her loyalty should be with her husband. Perhaps Gabriella didn't understand the situation. Eavin would have to explain it to her this morning.

The thought wasn't a pleasant one. It would mean exposing Jeannette's heritage. Perhaps she could avoid that part. People could speculate, but they would never know that Jeannette wasn't Nicholas's child unless Nicholas told them. And he would never do that. It would be better to remain silent about that part— and keep Raphael far away from Jeannette.

In the days that followed, that hope became a futile one. Raphael returned regularly, sometimes with and sometimes without his brother, and Gabriella continued to accept him even after the situation was explained.

Eavin cornered Alphonso alone one day, practically poking her finger at his chest as she demanded, "Why are you doing this? You know how it must look. When Nicholas returns, he will have to call your brother out. Surely your father cannot want that."

The young man looked dejected, and twisted his hat in his hand. "My father wants satisfaction. He believes Nicholas left Raphael to die in the swamp. He knows Raphael is the better duelist, and some trickery must have been involved for Nicholas to leave him helpless. He thinks it was Nicholas's plot all along to claim Gabriella for his own. She rightly belongs to Raphael. Even you must see that."

Ignoring the fact that the girl seemed thoroughly enchanted with the dapper, charming Spaniard, Eavin stuck to her point. "Do you believe Nicholas is capable of such base trickery?"

"Raphael is my brother," Alphonso replied simply. "I see no reason for him to lie. You are blinded by your woman's emotions. I wish you would see what is right before you. Nicholas shamed you, then married a woman who could bring him a better dowry. Is that the work of an honest man?"

There was no easy answer to that question. She could try to explain about children and Nicholas's need for acceptance and his place in society and hers. She could even talk about pirates and saving New Orleans and all the other excuses that Nicholas had undoubtedly used when he had married Gabriella.
 

The fact of the matter remained that Nicholas didn't love her enough to marry her. He wanted her in his bed and not on his arm. Eavin might understand that, but she wasn't about to try to explain it to this innocent boy, who still believed in family honor and all the rest of the lies that men told themselves.

"Yes, that is the work of an honest man. Nicholas never made a promise he couldn't keep, but I don't expect you to understand that. The question here has nothing to do with Nicholas. Gabriella is another man's wife. Your brother is courting immorality by courting Gabriella. How can you support that, you who would have been a priest?"

Alphonso held himself stiffly. "I am not keeper of my brother's soul. He tells me there is some chance that the marriage can be annulled. I must believe he is telling the truth."

Eavin had heard nothing of that. She didn't know a lot about annulments, but she didn't think a consummated marriage could be annulled. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps Gabriella was still a virgin. If so, she wouldn't remain so long in Raphael's company. That point had been proven already.

Desperate for aid in this matter, Eavin turned to
Hélène. The older woman only looked at her sadly, then gazed out at the gallery, where Gabriella and Raphael were strolling despite the increasingly inclement weather.

"Everything I have ever done has been wrong. Perhaps if I do nothing, something right will happen," was her only reply.

"You would destroy your own son," Eavin pleaded. "What do you think this will do to Nicholas? He already has one child of Raphael's in the nursery. What if the next is a boy?"

 
Hélène looked at her without curiosity. "Nicholas is strong. Life has made him strong, much stronger than I am. He will know what to do."

The woman whose approval or disapproval she had so feared had given up in defeat. Eavin stared at her a moment longer, not understanding what could be going through her mind. It suddenly occurred to her that Hélène was only a shell of a woman, her brittle exterior easily manipulated by the direction of the wind. Deciding Nicholas's mother was no longer a factor in this battle, Eavin headed for Nicholas's desk. With no one else to rely on, she would take matters in her own hands.

What she actually took was a pistol into her hands. It was heavy and awkward, but she knew its uses. A woman with a gun put the fear of God in men. Smiling grimly, Eavin walked down the hall and onto the gallery.

The loving couple looked up in surprise at Eavin's approach. And then Gabriella screamed and Raphael shoved her behind him as Eavin raised the pistol and aimed it at his heart.

"You have worn out your welcome,
señor
," she informed him in dangerously soft tones. "I suggest you leave now. I have given the overseer permission to shoot you the next time he sees you on this property. And do not think I will hesitate to do the same if I see you first."

Raphael advanced toward her, holding out his hand. "Give me the gun,
señora
. There is nothing you can do. I have already told my father the child in your nursery is mine. He will demand her return should anything happen to me."

Fear swamped Eavin, fear so piercing that it turned to anger on the spot. She had never thought so quickly in her life as she did now, with Jeannette's well-being at stake. Holding the gun steady, she offered a chilling smile. "All the more excuse to be rid of you then,
señor
. Without you, it is only your father's word against mine and Nicholas's. Do not mistake me. I have shot one of these before; I will not hesitate to do so again."

His bluff called, Raphael shrugged and started for the stairs. "I will go, but do not think this is the last of me. Saint-Just has stolen all that I have ever had. I'll not allow him to steal any more."

Eavin kept the gun trained on the Spaniard as he mounted his horse and rode out of range. She heard Gabriella weeping hysterically, but the sobs of a woman who would choose a snake over Nicholas did not touch her. Her first thought was to protect Jeannette. How could she save Jeannette if Raphael returned with his father and the law and a band of men to take her away?

When Gabriella launched herself at Eavin, grabbing for the gun, Eavin merely slapped the silly child.

"You wanted a husband, now you have one. I'd suggest you think twice before going after another one." Leaving Gabriella to wail wildly, Eavin returned to the house.

Chapter 35

"I have hired lawyers. They will take written testimony from you and Madame Dupré that Jeannette is Francine's child, born during her marriage to Nicholas. When Nicholas returns, he can sign a similar testimony. It will be filed with the court. There is not a thing that Raphael can do. A child born during a marriage belongs to the husband unless Nicholas disclaims her. Quit worrying, Eavin, you are pacing the floor worse than Nicholas."

Jeremy stood by the window, hat in hand as Eavin walked the length of the rug and back, her hands twisting nervously. She never looked at him but occasionally looked up as if hearing something outside that made her nervous.

"Thank you, Jeremy, you are a good friend. I wish..." She didn't finish the statement but looked up again at a sound from across the hall.

Jeremy caught her hand and followed the direction of her gaze but could see nothing. This close, he could smell the scent of her light perfume, and his gaze returned to the cloud of her ebony hair. "There are things I could wish, too," he murmured, "but wishing will not make them come true. What is bothering you, Eavin? Can I help?"

Eavin turned to him with tears in her eyes, clasping his hands in her own. "You have helped, Jeremy. Jeannette is everything to me. You have relieved my mind considerably. I cannot believe Raphael would truly want her, but he would take her out of spite. What makes people behave that way?"

"There is no good answer to that. There has been bad blood between Nicholas and Raphael for years. Nicholas is very good at ignoring things that annoy him, but Raphael has gone beyond that now. If you know how to reach St. Just, you should summon him home."

There hadn't been a word from Nicholas and Michael since they left. Mail was uncertain at best, and if they were on the trail, there wouldn't be much opportunity to write. Eavin shook her head. "I cannot call him away for this, even if I had the power to do so. I will handle it."

"Damnation, Eavin, you shouldn't have to do it! You're Jeannette's aunt, not Gabriella's keeper. Let Nicholas worry over his pitiful choice of a wife. You have your hands full as it is."

"She's just a child, Jeremy. She's young and scared, and Raphael is obviously an experienced seducer. I hold Nicholas as much to blame as anyone for walking out on her like that. She needs to go to the theater and parties and out in society to meet people. Instead she is dumped out here, where she is not wanted or needed and left to entertain herself. Perhaps I have been lax by not seeing that she got out more and had more to do."

"Save me from the saints of this world," Jeremy exclaimed with disgust, dropping Eavin's hands and walking back toward the window. "Gabriella is a spoiled, weak-willed little brat. Nicholas couldn't have made a worse match if he had deliberately tried. His devotion to Francine has gone beyond the mark if that is his excuse for marrying her cousin."

Outside the salon door, a slight figure in bonnet and pelisse hesitated. She had been drawn by the sound of voices. After hearing this diatribe, she paled and hurriedly lifted her skirt to hasten down the hall, staying in the shadows of twilight left by unlit sconces. Soon someone would be around to light them. But not just yet.