Ryan's Bride (41 page)

She rolled her eyes. “Then what good is the letter if you aren’t going to use it against her, for heaven’s sake?”

“I plan to when the time is right.”

“And when will that be?”

“After she’s gone, in case Ryan wants to go after her and bring her back. I’ll tell him it’s for the best to let her go and then show him the letter. I’ll say that after he told me he loved her, I decided not to say anything about it. Then, if he still wants her back, I’ll promise to keep it a secret so the old man doesn’t find out. He’ll be undyingly grateful and never suspect either of us tried to do anything except help him keep his marriage together.”

“Are you still asleep?” Clarice asked incredulously. “Is that why you aren’t making any sense—or have you lost your mind? You mean to tell me that you’d actually help him get her back after he made her go? That you’d then try to get along with her in hopes she’d never make him tell us to leave BelleRose? You have to be crazy, Corbett, and—”

Suddenly he lunged to sit straight up and grip her shoulders and lean into her face. “Listen to me, damn it. You’re the one who’s crazy if you think for one minute I will ever allow that little sewer rat to stay here and take anything away from us. I have an alternate plan in case all else fails.”

“And what might that be?” she asked dubiously.

“Roscoe will take her away, and I have to make sure Ryan doesn’t try to go after her. Now do you understand?”

Clarice relaxed and breathed easier. It was going to be all right. Corbett was sane, after all, and what he said made good sense. “So all we do now is wait and see what happens, and if he doesn’t run her off, Roscoe will take her by force. Is that it?” she asked.

“Not quite. We can’t just have her disappear. It might look suspicious. It has to look as though she left of her own free will. But we can use Selma for that, if need be. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Ryan may surprise us and toss her out on her deceitful little funny. It would make things a lot easier that way.”

“And meanwhile?” Clarice asked.

A wry smile curved Corbett’s lips. “It was a good idea—your having Denise stay on awhile. Just make sure she’s around if he needs a shoulder to cry on…
or anything else
.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

It had been four days since the accident, and Angele was bewildered—and hurt—that she hadn’t seen Ryan.

She had awakened sometime the day after, groggy and sore all over. Selma was the only one in her room at the time and had immediately gone to tell everyone the news.

Dr. Pardee came a short while later, and, after a cursory examination, said all she needed was plenty of rest.

No one else came. Not even Clarice. Angele’s only contact was with Selma, who brought her trays of food but hardly said a word. She did, however, finally mention that she thought she heard Willard tell Mammy Lou that Master Ryan had gone to Richmond for a few days.

Angele was hurt to think he could leave her that way but reasoned it might be for the best. He was probably furious over what she had done, and his anger needed time to fade.

She still couldn’t dispel the notion that something was wrong. Selma was so nervous she jumped at the least little sound and also seemed to be avoiding meeting her gaze. Then there was Dr. Pardee’s strange behavior. Ordinarily he was a gruff old soul, and she had expected him to chide her not only for jumping but beating him out of the saddle, as well—because she had no doubt but that she had won. Instead, he was quiet and said little except to urge her to rest as much as possible.

“Everyone must really be upset with me,” she remarked when Selma brought her supper tray that fourth day. “I would’ve thought Clarice would come to rail at me for borrowing her saddle without asking. Has she said anything to you?”

Again, Selma would not look directly at her. “No, ma’am. She wouldn’t say nothin’ to me, no how. She don’t talk to none of us except to tell us what to do or fuss about something. I try to stay out of her way as much as I can.”

“And Master Roussel,” Angele pressed. “Have you heard whether he’s angry that I rode his horse?”

“If he is, Willard didn’t tell me.”

Angele pushed back the tray and sat up. “Then it’s time I went to see him and found out. Clarice stays peeved over something all the time, anyway, but I don’t want Master Roussel irritated with me. Get my robe and slippers, please.”

“You can’t, missy,” Selma argued. “You know the doctor said you’ve got to stay in bed a week, and I know it can’t have been that long ’cause Sunday hasn’t come yet, and I always know when it’s Sunday ’cause Mammy Lou fries a chicken.”

Angele lifted her chin stubbornly. “Will you hand me my robe like I asked you to?”

“No, she won’t. Because you aren’t going anywhere.”

Angele turned to see Ryan standing in the doorway. His face was tight with anger. “I’m feeling better,” she offered gingerly. “And I want to tell your father I’m sorry if he’s angry at me for taking his horse.”

“Don’t you care that
I
am?”

His glare was blistering. Glancing away, she began to pick absently at the sheet. “I was hoping to talk to you, as well, and try to make you understand why I did it.”

“I’m listening—not that anything you say will be the truth. But let me hear it, anyway. You’re so creative that your lies are always entertaining, if nothing else.”

Angele was fast becoming annoyed, herself, because he was not giving her a chance. She faced him again, no longer intimidated. “Did it ever occur to you that I wanted to prove to you that I can ride—jump—a horse? I happen to be quite good at it, and I’ve missed it. All you want me to do is stay in this house all the time. I’ve wanted to scream from boredom.”

“That doesn’t excuse what you did.”

“What else could I do? You wouldn’t let me ride. Now you know I can, and there’s nothing to worry about. And I wouldn’t have fallen,” she added petulantly, “if I’d been more experienced with that particular horse.”

His upper lip curled in a sneer. “That particular horse has never been ridden by anyone but my father.”

“Then you see? That proves I’m a good rider, because I stayed on him long enough to make every jump. And I won, didn’t I? That special saddle is mine, and that’s why you’re angry—because a
woman
won.” She dared a smile, thinking she might be able to tease him out of his wrathful mood.

“I am angry,” he said harshly, “because your recklessness caused you to lose our baby…a baby I wanted very much but you obviously didn’t.”

At that, Selma bolted by him and disappeared.

Angele reeled and gasped, “No…no, that’s not true?”

“It’s cruel to tell you this way, but, quite frankly, I think you deserve it. What you did was unforgivable.”

“I…I didn’t know,” she managed to chokily deny. “Ryan, if I had, do you think I’d have done it? I swear to you—I didn’t know I was going to have a baby.”

He stepped on into the room to point an accusing finger and lash out, “You want to know what I think? I think you don’t care about anyone but yourself. The baby, me, our marriage—none of it matters so long as you get your way, and you’ll stop at nothing to do it.”

“That’s not true,” she protested above the roaring in her ears as she tried to grasp the horror of what he was telling her about the baby. She’d had no idea she was pregnant. Miss Appleton had never discussed symptoms. Neither had her mother. She’d never been around childbearing women, so how could she have known?

“I can’t believe you still have the gall to lie even now.” He ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. “Hell, I’ve got to get out of here…”

Angele scrambled to her knees, the tears she had vowed never again to shed welling in her eyes as she pleaded, “Please, Ryan. You’ve got to believe me. I never dreamed I might be having a baby. I’d been nauseated, but I don’t know about things like that. No one ever told me, and—”

“Stop lying!” he shouted. “Damn it, I should have known you’d never appreciate what I was offering you.”

“I did—and I do—and my heart is breaking, Ryan.”

Suddenly he asked, “Who helped you? Damn it, I’ll break the son of a bitch’s neck. Who told you about my father’s horse? Who helped you with him?”

Remembering her promise to Roscoe and terrified of what Ryan might do to him, she swallowed hard and lied, “No one. I chose him myself.”

“And I suppose you knew my father’s horse was a good jumper, because you heard someone say once upon a time what a good jumping horse looked like.”

“Yes…that’s true…”

“To hell with it.”

“Please believe me, Ryan—”

He sneered. “You’ve never told the truth about anything yet. Why should I believe you now?”

“Because I—”

The door slammed on her last words.

He didn’t hear her say that she loved him.

He went straight to his father’s wing. He had avoided him since learning Angele had known she was pregnant before she rode. And he did not intend to tell him now, because he would be so hurt and disappointed. But Ryan knew if he continued to stay away, he would wonder why.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Willard greeted when he opened the door. “I’ve been afraid if somebody didn’t tell him somethin’ soon about how Miz Angele was doin’, he was gonna go see about her himself.”

“Well, he won’t have to do that now.” Ryan breezed by him and into the bedroom.

“It’s about damn time!” Roussel bellowed from where he was sitting in his usual spot by the window. “How’s she doing? Doc said she’d be fine, but since you haven’t been to tell me yourself, I was afraid she might’ve taken a turn for the worse. Losing a baby can be hard on a woman, you know, and that was a hell of a fall she took.

“But she rode my horse, didn’t she?” he added, grinning broadly…proudly. “He’s never let anybody else stay on him that long. And as soon as she’s able, I’m going to tell her she can ride him all she wants to. Hell, I might even give him to her, because nobody else will ever be able to control him.”

“She
didn’t
control him,” Ryan reminded his father.

“She did for a while, and it was just her first time.” Roussel noted how bitter he sounded…how angry he looked. “Say, what’s wrong with you, anyway? She was just trying to show off in front of Denise. I figured that out, and you should have, too. Women are like that. And I saw how Denise was following you around at the party the night before. Angele was just fighting back, that’s all.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t think so but was afraid disagreeing might make him wonder if something else was wrong. “I’m just upset about her losing the baby, that’s all. Don’t worry about me. You just take care of yourself. Doc didn’t like how upset you were.”

“I couldn’t help it. The truth is, I’ve come to love Angele, and I was scared she was seriously hurt. It’s sad about the baby, but there will be others. We just have to be grateful we still have her. She could have been killed, you know.”

Ryan had thought of that, again and again as he had sat beside her bed, praying she would not die. And, despite what she had done, he knew he still cared about her deeply. He didn’t want to lose her but, sadly, feared he already had.

Suddenly he felt the need to prepare his father for what might happen. “It’s nice you think so much of her, and I’m glad, but the fact is, she seems homesick for France.”

Roussel was quick to respond. “Then for heaven’s sake, take her and go back for a visit. Stay as long as she wants to. Corbett can look after things here, and I’m feeling stronger every day. We’ll manage fine without you. Now, go tell her so she’ll feel better.”

Ryan only wished it were that simple. But he’d said all he intended to for the time being. His father didn’t look as well as he would have people believe. There were deep circles under his eyes, and his hands had a slight tremor. It would not do for him to worry about Angele any more than he already did.

“Go on. Tell her you’ll take her home.” Roussel slapped his knees and grinned. “Who knows? You might make another baby while you’re over there. And wouldn’t that be something—my grandchild conceived in France?”

“Yes. Yes, that would be something.” Ryan wanted to get out of there, afraid if he didn’t, the pain he was trying to hide would show. “Well, I’d better be going. I have things to do.”

“I’d like to see Angele as soon as she feels like having company.”

“I’ll let you know. She still needs to rest. Maybe in a day or so.”

Roussel nodded. “Of course. But be sure to tell her that I’m thinking about her.”

“Of course I will. Now, stop worrying.” Ryan crossed to the door.

“Son, wait a minute.”

He paused.

“Do you want to go with her?”

Ryan cocked his head to one side, not understanding. Roussel made himself quite clear. “I’m asking if you want to go with her to France or if you’d rather let her go alone.” Ryan knew what he was getting at but didn’t know how to respond.

“I’m asking you, goddamnit, if you even care if she leaves,” Roussel then irritably snapped. “Maybe you’re such a fool you think you’d rather have Denise, who’s nothing but a spoiled brat. I’d as soon have a goat for a daughter-in-law.”