The Dream (28 page)

Emily who was strong.

Like a sword…

Jason’s words echoed in her mind.

Jason…

Licking her lips she walked to the bed. It was just paper and inside they were just words. Angry words, hateful words, but just words. They couldn’t leap off the page and hurt her, any more than the leather strip would rise off the pillow and strike her.

Emily put one hand to her stomach and wished the nausea would go away. On a determined huff, she ripped it open.

To my dearest
Rebeckah
,

Are you pleased to receive another missive? You should be. I know you are a smart girl. You always tried to hide that fact, but I could see the intelligence, the impertinence in your eyes.

Do you fear our meeting? You should, you harlot of Babylon. You adulterating slut! You have much to answer for,
Rebeckah
. Your punishment will remind you of your place. Your place beside your husband. A woman can only have one husband, you know.

Tell me, my dear cheating wife, are you going to inform the marquis that you are no more than his mistress? And that you won’t bear him an heir? Are you wondering when I’ll come for you? I will let you wonder.

Anticipation heightens the experience and I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. While you wait, consider how you are going to tell that man about the scandal you will create for his good family name.

And don’t forget to think about me. A word of warning. I am angry with you my dear. Selling the lands, giving my child to another man, but then again, I wonder if she is even mine, or another one of your by-blows.

Do NOT make me look for you again. You can run, but you will never be able to hide from me, and no one, no one, will be able to save you from my wrath. The Boyles found that out. It seems there was a terrible fire, which, of course, claimed both their lives. It was for the best. Their time came, as will yours. Perhaps your lover’s time is short, or your grandparents’. Our daughter should not be in such sinful places. You should have taught her right, brought her up as she should be. If she strays, it is your fault and if I have to punish her as well, it will be your fault because you’ve let her grow with wickedness surrounding her. You have so much to answer for. Your time of reckoning is near.

 
Your ever faithful husband,

  
Theodore.

Emily’s hand shook.

His daughter? Their daughter? Joy? Oh God.

She dropped the paper and rushed from the room, all but running up to the nursery.

At the door she met Summerton.

“My lady?” he asked.

She huffed, tried to catch her breath.

“My lady? What are you doing up? I thought you retired for the evening.”

She brushed past him and opened the door. The sweet smell of child floated on the air and she could see Joy slept soundly in her bed.

Relief, sharp and hot rushed through her.

Licking her lips, she walked across the room, her legs shaking. Oh, thank God.

Joy’s hair was as soft as down under her fingers. Emily sighed and kissed her daughter’s cheek.

With one last look, she turned.
Franny
stood just inside the adjoining room’s door.

The nursery was set up as adjoining rooms, just like the master and mistress suites. The balcony ran down both rooms.

“I’m so sorry, my lady,”
Franny
whispered.

“For?” she motioned to the other room so as not to awaken Joy.

“I never heard a thing. I swear.”

“Never heard what?”

Franny
looked from her to the balcony doors. “Well, that is…”

Summerton’s voice interrupted. “Her ladyship should be in bed.”

Emily normally smiled at their collective protectiveness. Now was not one of those times.

“Her ladyship would like an answer.” She turned back to
Franny
and ignored Summerton.

“Well, my lady, that is…” The girl twisted her hands.

“Yes?”

“Well, I never heard him come in. It weren’t me who opened the doors. I swear it. I know the rules and it’s too dangerous for little Joy, it is. I check them every night and morning to make certain like. And they was locked.” Her eyes narrowed, her forehead crinkled on her frown.

Chills danced up and down Emily’s spine. “The doors? The balcony doors?”

Franny
nodded. “Lady Joy awoke and went and found his Lordship because she was scared. Thought she saw a man.”

A man.

Blood hummed through her ears and heat prickled her arms.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A man. A man in her daughter’s room.

“My lady?” Summerton asked.

She shook her head. “I’m fine. Did anyone else see him?” she asked the butler, who always knew everything.

“No.”

Emily fisted her hands within the folds of her gown to keep them from trembling, and realized she was without a wrapper.

Stupid. So stupid. She should have said something long before now to Jason. And why hadn’t she?

Because she was selfish and didn’t want to make it real that what they shared was an illusion.

Looking back over her shoulder into Joy’s room, she realized she’d put her daughter in danger.

Not again. Never, never again.

Straightening her spine, she nodded a goodnight to
Franny
and walked out the room.

Summerton was beside her.

“Where is my…” she almost said “husband”.
No he’s not
. “Where is his lordship?”

“Lord
Hardlow
and Lord Drake are in the study with him.”

Emily nodded and went into their room, shutting the door behind her. She picked up the paper she’d dropped. The window she left open to show Jason and the leather she left where it was. The very sight of it made her ill.

In her sitting room, she removed the other notes and sat in her chair.

It was time to tell Jason. She’d thought long and hard for days on what was to be done. And there was only one thing.

She couldn’t go back, she could never go back. But the scandal…

Before going downstairs she pulled on her robe and belted it. The mirror reflected her pale face, the worried, gaunt expression. There was nothing she could do about it.

It was time to lean. She just hoped Jason would support her in this.

* * * * *

For the last half-hour, Jason and his partners sat in front of the fire in his study plotting, planning and running through scenarios. Everything had to be planned perfect. No
screwups
or lives could be lost.

Yet through it all, his mind kept wondering.

The man will get me…

What man? Strange callers. Notes to his wife she didn’t talk about. The jimmied lock. De Fleur? Had he threatened Emily? Scared her into silence? That made no sense. She would have told him of De Fleur. So then what? And Sir Taber had told them just that morning that the bastard was still in France.

Things were not right. He thrummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.

“What do you think?” Rayne asked.

Jason shook his head. “What?”

“I told you he wasn’t listening,” Nick replied. “Has something else on his mind.”

“Damn it,
Jase
, this is important.”

Jason stood and raked a hand through his hair. When he’d come down earlier, he joined his friends by the fire, listened with half an ear and shared some of his best brandy.

Now he paced down the length of his study and back.

“What is it?” Nick asked.

“I don’t know. I think someone was in the house tonight,” he admitted.

“What?” Rayne snapped.

Jason looked up. “Joy mentioned a man in her room. A mean man. I went up, the lock was scratched, marked from the outside. The nanny, though she won’t be one for long, was sound asleep and didn’t hear or see anything.”

“You checked the place out?” Nick asked, leaning against the mantle.

Jason nodded and tapped his fingers on his thigh. He was missing something. He knew it, could feel it.

With a curse he turned, intent on sitting at his desk, and stopped.

There atop his papers was a missive.

Had it been there before?

He walked to it, snatched it up? Turning to the other two, he asked, flicking it up between his fingers, “What is this?”

Both shrugged. “Not from me.”

“Did Summerton bring this in?”

“No,” Rayne answered, “it was here when we arrived.”

Well, it sure as hell hadn’t been there when he’d left the room with Joy earlier.

Ripping paper tore through the air.

My Dear Deluded Marquis,

I give you the benefit of the doubt, as I know the woman whom you call wife. She’s no more than a vessel of wickedness. All females are vile Jezebels. Yet, watching you with her, with the child, I find my reason fleeing and wonder what part you might play. Perhaps I should follow Leviticus 20:10. Perhaps you are no more blameless than she.

I could have taken them both tonight and you never would have known. Never would have heard me until you found their empty beds… Or maybe their bodies.

Jason crumpled the note in his hand, rage and fear rushing through him.

“Bastard.” He tossed the paper aside and hurried to the door.

He all but plowed his wife down.

“
Umph
.”

Jason grabbed her shoulders, and let out the breath he’d been holding as his heart slowed.

“Jason?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Emmy? Are you all right?”

She swallowed.

Jason turned and led her into the study, she was pale and strain showed around her eyes, and the corners of her mouth.

“I’ll be right back, darling. I want to check on Joy.” He guided her to the chair and waited until she sat.

“I’ve just checked her, Summerton was there, and
Franny
is still up. Joy is fine. She’s safe.” Her tongue darted out to lick her lips again and her hands fisted, the knuckles white. “She’s safe,” she repeated.

Safe. The same thing he was worried about, wondering about. Was it coincidence she’d said the same word?

Jason rubbed his jaw and stood, leaning back against the desk. The other two had stood when Emily entered, now both walked to them.

“Honey, what are you doing up?” Rayne asked.

She opened her mouth, then shut it, looking at her lap. Her shoulders rose on a deep breath.

“Emily?” Jason asked, knowing something was wrong.

She didn’t answer.

“Emily?”

Finally, she looked at him. “How difficult is it to obtain a divorce?”

Chapter Nineteen

“I beg your bloody pardon?” he asked, straightening. Jason had not heard his wife just use the word divorce.

A log popped in the grate, silence strangled the room.

Her shoulders rose on a deep inhale and she opened her mouth.

“I think we’ll see…” Rayne trailed off.

“Some things… Summerton,” Nick mumbled. The two hurried across the room.

Emily’s voice stopped them. “You should stay, it does concern you as my family and Nick as our friend.”

They stopped and looked at him, but he returned his gaze to his wife. She still stared at her lap.

Expectant women often had strange bouts of ideas, so he had heard. And though he knew they should not be excited, the need to yell at her closed his throat.

When her eyes rose to his, all he saw in them was fear. No, he corrected, terror and anger.

Jason ground his teeth, fisted his hands beneath his crossed arms and said, as softly as he could, “Do you care to repeat what you now just asked me?”

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. “I asked how difficult it is to obtain a divorce.”

Those dark, sinfully dark eyes of hers never wavered from his.

She was serious. A fist slammed into his heart and stopped it for just a moment.

Jason could only stare at her. What the hell did he… What was he supposed to… His wife wanted a…

“You would
dare
ask me such a question?” he bit out stalking away to the windows before he strangled her. No way in hell was he granting her one.

For a long time, she didn’t say a word. Maybe she was sleepwalking, he turned back around and saw she sat holding something in her hand.

“We really should be going,” Rayne said.

Emily answered, “Rayne, this concerns you and our family as well.”

Jason flexed his fingers. “I don’t see how our marriage concerns him.”

“The lack of one will.” Her jaw came up a notch.

Jason wanted to shake her. Very calmly, very deliberately, he walked to her, watched as her eyes widened as he put his hands on her shoulders. “There is not now, nor will there
ever
be a lack of marriage between us, madam.”

Her eyes softened, and her hand came up to rest on his cheek.

His hands tightened. “I want an explanation. Now.”

“I’m trying to give you one.” She sighed. “One cannot have two husbands, can one?”

That wasn’t what he expected her to say. He dropped his hands. “What?”

Her eyes locked with his, filled, her bottom lip trembled. “We’re not married, Jason.” Her cheeks drained of color at her words.

Trying to get around what she was saying, he leaned back against the desk.

“Emily, I don’t know what the hell is going on. Are you feeling just the thing? Should I send for the physician?”

She pulled her trembling lip between her teeth. “I’m trying to explain.”

“You need to try harder,
wife
.” He purposefully stressed the last word and glared at her.

“You’re not listening.” She all but bounded out of the chair and paced to the fireplace and back. The papers in her hands crinkling.

He turned a glare on Rayne, hoping they’d get the hell out.

She halted. “Stop glaring at them, they’re not leaving. We may need their help,” she muttered.

A damn whirlwind was what had suddenly come over her. She stalked around the room.

Jason took a deep breath and counted. It didn’t help, he wasn’t calming down.

I could have taken them both…

One cannot have two husbands…

She’s nothing more than your whore…

The words echoed in his brain, but he refused to acknowledge them.

“Emily, honey, we really should be going,” Rayne tried.

“Will everyone just stop and bloody listen,” she shouted, her voice cracking.

Jason walked to her, but she backed away. “Why?” she asked him, her eyes pleading.

“Why what?” he still didn’t know what was going on.

“Why now? Why? I knew this was too good to be true, that I’d wake up one morning and it…” Her hands fluttered. “It would all be a bloody dream.”

Jason shook his head and reached for her again. She backed up again.

“Don’t back away from me.”

“I’ll do whatever I like, my lord.”

Jason stared at her and cocked a brow. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rayne and Nick exchange a glance and try to sneak out the door.

“Just stop,” she all but bellowed at them. “Sit down. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know…” Hysteria sounded in her voice.

“
Emmaline
, I think it’s time
you
sit down,” Jason said.

“Don’t take that patronizing tone with me.” Her watery eyes flashed fire at him. “You’ve taught me to stand up for myself and I believed what you told me. I believed.”

He’d never seen her like this, as if she were teetering on the brink of hysteria, yet defiantly standing up for the woman she was.

“We’re going to need their help,” she continued. “I thought maybe it was a nightmare, but one that would go away. I thought maybe it was some cruel mean joke, but it’s not. It’s not.” She started to cry. “And if I say it aloud, it will make it real. My dream—our dream will cease to be.”

Jason took a deep breath. Now was not the time for emotions, though God’s truth he felt like shouting. Taking her arm firmly in his, ignoring the fact she tried to pull away, he guided her to a chair.

Crouching beside her, he said, “Emmy, tell me what’s going on.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” she asked.

He knew better than to say a word. He simply waited.

The notes crumpled in her hand drew his attention. “What’s this?” He started to reach for them.

She fisted her hand, her eyes rising to his, tears trailing down her cheek. “I knew this couldn’t last. It was too good. I knew it must be a dream, but you made me believe. All a dream. I tried to tell myself that this—you—now, was all real.” She shook her head. “But it’s not. What was I thinking?”

“Then what is real?”

She looked over his shoulder, seeing something he couldn’t. Her mouth opened, then closed. “I could lie. I could if I had to. I could lie to him and then kill him, couldn’t I?” She blinked. “Do they send pregnant women to prison?”

Jason shook his head. “What? What the bloody hell—”

Her eyes widened and she grabbed hold of him. “You have to send Joy away. You have to send her away.”

“Why?” he snapped, at the end of his patience.

“Some place where he can’t find her.” She talked hurriedly, almost whispering. “If she’s away, he can’t hurt her. I can’t let him hurt her. Not like Mary.”

Enlightenment slithered through him, dark and dangerous.

“Like Mary?” he asked softly.

Her eyes were pools of heartache. “You’ll send her away won’t you? You’ll keep our little girl safe?” She shook her head. “She’s not safe anywhere near me. He sees her as his.”

Jason’s heart pounded. “Who?”

“Mary, he sees Joy as Mary.”

“Who sees her that way?” The tether on his patience was pulled taut.

Again she shook her head, looked down. Jason reached out and covered her hands with his. “Emmy.” He waited for her to look at him. When she didn’t, he tried again. “Emmy, who?”

Her warm tears plopped onto the back of his hand. “I can’t let him hurt her.”

He reached up and held her face. “Who?” he asked more forcefully.

Her lips trembled. “Theodore. Theodore Smith. My-my… Oh, God, Jason, he’s still my husband.”

Whatever color had been in her cheeks fled. She closed her eyes and swayed in the chair.

Jason sat there, not moving. He felt as if Fury had thrown him and stomped him into the ground.

Theodore Smith? No, there had to be some mistake.

She’s only your whore…

“What?” Rayne snapped.

Jason closed his eyes, his hands slid from her as he shook his head, and stood up. “Are you telling me, you think your bastard late husband is alive?”

What might have been a smile flitted around the edge of her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she swiped at her eyes and stood as well, or tried to.

“Sit down,” he ordered. “You look as if you’re about to pass out.”

She rolled her eyes, but sat back down. “I don’t
think
it, Jason. I
know
it.”

He took another deep breath. It was not helping. Someone was playing a wicked game on her and he’d find the bastard. When he did…

“There must be some mistake,” he said, his voice harsher than he’d intended.

“There’s not,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

His heart beat erratically, building fear and anger within him. He took a deep breath, turned and looked at the note on his desk.

The muscle in his jaw bunched. “What, pray tell, makes you so certain?”

“These.” The notes were held out to him. He looked from them to her. Finally he reached out and took them. The missives she’d received and she hadn’t said a damn word. “And what he left on the pillow.”

His gaze ripped from the notes in his hands to her. “What pillow?”

“The pillow in our room.”

Jason stared at her hard, then with a nod to Rayne strode from the room. “Stay here, Emily. Nick stay with her.”

He took the stairs two at a time. There had been nothing. Nothing in there when he checked her not half an hour ago.

At their room, he threw the door open and saw the sheer curtains sway in the breeze.

On the pristine white pillow—his pillow—lay something coiled. He walked closer, rage flowing through him, hot and thick.

“What the hell is it?” Rayne asked, walking past him to look at the window.

Jason reached out and picked it up, the braided leather a weapon used to scar, to enforce submission, to rule through fear and blood.

His hand shook. “Goddamn bastard.”

“What is it?” Rayne asked again.

“A bloody whip. What the hell does it look like?” It felt evil in his hand, as if the rage pumped from him into the object in his grasp. He’d love nothing more than to flay the one who’d brought the object into his house. Preferably until the man was dead.

Emily had been worried about Joy.

“We search the rest of the house.” Like he damn well should have done the first time around.

“I’ll send word to Hobbs, have him send a few of the boys up here.”

Jason nodded. Hobbs was the man they went to when they needed trustworthy individuals to do a job, or when they needed help. The man would just as soon cut the throat of most, but he respected the three of them, and they, in turn respected him. It was where Jason had found
Furgus
.

“Have him send at least four men,” Jason said.

Rayne shook his head. “Six.”

“Whatever, just get it done. I’m going to check on Joy.”

* * * * *

 
“Here.” Nick held a cup of tea between them. He’d rung for it earlier.

Emily took the cup, smiled at him and sipped. The tea roiled in her stomach.

Nick watched her and watched her some more. He was good at reading people and one Mrs.
Claymere
didn’t hide her feelings very well. She was scared and worried from the looks of her lip nibbling, white knuckles and tight mouth.

“So I take it you want to obtain a divorce from the first husband?” The idea was almost unheard of. Women did not divorce their husbands. It simply wasn’t done. The scandal alone would be devastating.

Her glare singed him on the spot.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I wish I were a widow.” She sighed, leaned her head back against the chair back and closed her eyes, one hand playing with the belt of her wrapper.

“You mean you wish you really
had
been a widow so that your marriage to Jason would be valid?” The woman said the oddest things. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. If Jason has his way, your wish is his command.”

For a moment she didn’t say a word, then she opened her eyes and simply stared at him. “I can’t let him do that.”

“Why not?” Nick took a sip of his tea and watched the play of emotions on her face. She fascinated him. She appeared so vulnerable, yet strength radiated out of her.

Her eyes flashed at him in outrage. “It’s not his place. He can’t just-just-just—”

“Can’t just kill a man who is terrorizing his family? Why the hell not? And what court would hold him accountable if he did?” Nick took another drink of his tea, wishing it were the brandy.

Her mouth opened. “But that would be wrong.”

He leaned back. “Do you still have feelings for this man then? This—what did you say his name was—Theodore Smith?”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Perhaps you still love him.”

“There was
never
any love between Theodore and myself.
He’s
a horrible, horrible
man
.”

“So, then, what’s the problem?” He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

“The problem? It would be murder. Jason could go to prison, be deported. I would never,
never
do that to him. Never.” She stood up and paced along the carpet, from the chair to the window and back. “It’s bad enough that some will find out we’ve been no more than lovers for the last few months. That our child…” She stopped.

Nick did not think now was the time to inform her that her husband had killed before. Some on orders of the government, war was strange about that, others simply deserved it. There were, Nick knew, some people, who simply should not be alive to torment and terrorize others. Though he felt his hostess would not appreciate his observation, so Nick kept his mouth shut.

Hoping to appease her, he said, “I doubt Jason would go to prison. You can’t expect him to just sit quietly by, while a man whom you fear, who is a threat to all Jason holds dear, wrecks havoc with your life. No one who knows
Ravensworth
, would expect that of him.” He brushed a fleck of lint off his sleeve.

She was watching him now. “What does that mean?”

He shook his head. “Jason acts differently around you. He is charming, as always, but he’s softer.
Jase
is not soft around anyone.” Hell he was making a mess of this. The last thing he wanted to do was cause discord between Jason and Emily. Jason would kill him. Especially in his current frame of mind. “That is, well, I suppose since you are his wife, he would act differently.”