The Right Wife (15 page)

“If I send for you later, will you come to me?”

“I . . . Aaron . . . I . . .”

“Will you?”

“Yes.”

Maggie held the note in her trembling hands as she stood outside the closed library doors. Phineas had brought her the briefly worded message less than ten minutes ago. Without any debate, she had dressed quickly and rushed downstairs at this after-midnight hour, all the guests having gone home long ago. Undoubtedly, Aaron had made some excuse not to leave with Eunice and her parents.

Slowly she pushed back the doors and stepped into the shadowy room, one small lamp burning dimly on the oak trestle table, the brass hardware glowing in the mellow light. Aaron sat on the dark leather sofa near the corner fireplace, his head resting against the back, his eyes closed, a snifter of brandy in one hand and a cigar in the other.

“Come closer, Maggie.” The sound of his deep voice startled her. She had not known that he was aware of her presence.

A sparkling glow reflected off the polished tiles surrounding the fireplace, and a stream of milky-white moonlight poured through the two long, lace-curtained side windows. Maggie moved closer to the big man who sat sipping brandy. She walked around the sofa to stand in front of him, noticing the weariness in the emerald eyes that gazed up at her.

Setting the snifter on the floor and dropping the cigar into the remaining liquor, he reached out and took both of her hands. “Sit with me, Maggie.” He pulled her gently down onto the sofa.

“I owe you an explanation for my behavior.” He brought both of her hands to his lips, kissing them several times before releasing them.

“Why did you—”

He placed an index finger across her lips. “I love you, Maggie Campbell.”

“Oh, Aaron, I love you.” She moved to embrace him, but he stopped her by grabbing her shoulders.

“Before the end of the year, I plan to ask Eunice to marry me. I want you to know why I’ve made this decision.”

Maggie sat silently, staring in disbelief. How could he tell her that he loved her, and, practically in the same breath, tell her he planned to propose to Eunice?

“Will you let me explain?” He searched her blank face for an answer.

“Yes. Oh, yes. I want to hear your explanation.”

“What I’m going to tell you would destroy me socially if it became public knowledge.” He didn’t add that Eunice Arnold would probably reject his proposal if she knew.

“I’d never do anything to hurt you.” Maggie’s fingers reached out to touch his face, slightly rough with stubble.

“I know,” he whispered, savoring the feel of her fingers caressing his face.

“Tell me.”

“It’s a pitiful, boring tale.”

“I want to know.”

“My mother was a beautiful New Orleans girl from a good family, but her mother was a widow and they weren’t wealthy.”

“You loved your mother a great deal, didn’t you?” She could tell from the tenderness in his voice and the faraway look in his eyes.

“Yes. And I hated her a great deal. I didn’t find out the whole truth until after her death. All I remember is the two of us living alone in a big house, with servants, and a carriage, and—”

“What about your father?”

“I had no father. I learned from the early age of six to hate the word
bastard
.”

“People called you—”

“Oh, yes. I was called a bastard frequently, and my mother was called a whore. But she wasn’t. In all the years of my childhood there was only one man.”

Aaron placed his hand over hers as it rested against his cheek. “He was a wealthy man twice her age. He was very good to me. I can remember sitting in his lap while he read to me.”

“What about your real father?”

“My mother never discussed the events surrounding my birth. When I grew older, I assumed she had simply sold herself to the highest bidder after losing her reputation by having an illegitimate child. I was only partly right.”

“What happened to your mother?”

“My mother and her lover were killed when there was an explosion on their steamer. They had gone away for a holiday together at Point Clear on the gulf.” An almost invisible mist clouded his vision.

“How old were you?”

“I was sixteen and away at school. Oh, that’s right. I didn’t tell you that my mother’s lover provided me with the best of everything, even a private education.”

“What did you do after her death?”

“I ran away from school. I thought I had nothing left and that there was no one to pay the bills.”

“What did you do?”

“I did everything. I did anything. I’m not proud of some of the things I did in my eagerness to make a lot of money fast. My youthful greed nearly got me killed on more than one occasion.”

“Oh Aaron, no.” She wanted to hold him in her arms and make all the painful memories go away. She imagined how devastating it must have been to find himself alone and penniless at sixteen. The same age as Micah.

“That’s how I met Phineas. He saved my life one night in a New Orleans barroom. We’ve been together ever since. He’s a man I respect.”

“Aaron, no one in this state knows anything about your past. Why is it so important to marry Eunice? You’re respected and accepted by people here.”

“There’s a good chance that the truth will come out someday.”

“How would Eunice feel if it did?”

“She would already be my wife by then. I think she’d remain loyal to me. Especially with Martha Coleman defending me.”

“Mrs. Coleman is a remarkable woman.”

“I owe her so much.” Aaron pulled Maggie into his arms, loosening the ribbon holding her long, red hair in place.

“There’s more, isn’t there? For some reason, you think you have to have a place in society.”

Stroking the back of her head, his fingers threading through the strands of fiery silk, he sighed. “The lover with whom my mother died, her only lover, was my father.”

“Why didn’t they ever marry? Why didn’t they ever tell you the truth?”

“He was married to a woman who had been an invalid since the birth of their only child. He was duty bound to stay with a woman he didn’t love.”

“How horrible for all of them.”

“His wife never knew.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because five years ago, I went to Point Clear wanting revenge against the family of my mother’s lover. They were vacationing at the place where my mother had died.”

“You met your father’s wife?”

“No, she had been dead for several years by then.” Aaron tightened his hold on Maggie. “My father’s daughter was there with her husband and son. You can’t imagine how I hated her.”

“You met her?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell her who you were?”

“She knew. Actually she knew more than I did. She knew the whole truth. The minute I approached her, she knew the whole truth. Right away, she called me by my name. She said she had been searching for me since her father’s death. I didn’t understand.”

“She already knew of your existence.”

“Yes. She had known about me and my mother since I was a child. She had had detectives looking for me to tell me about my inheritance.”

Maggie pulled back just enough to look into his face. “Your inheritance?”

“I ran away as soon as I was told of my mother’s death.” Moisture filled Aaron’s eyes. “I didn’t know he was my father. I had no idea he would leave half his estate to me. She was a stranger to me, even though she was my half-sister, but she was the one to tell me who my father was. He should have told me. He and my mother.”

Maggie saw such raw pain on his face that she could barely look at him any longer. “Oh, Aaron.”

“I told her that I didn’t want his damn money. I was already rich.” He reached inside his vest and pulled out his gold pocket watch. “That’s when she gave me this. It’s his. She said that my half of his estate would be waiting for me when the day came that I could forgive him. She said that it would take time, but that eventually, I would—that she had.”

“And that day hasn’t come, has it?”

Aaron pulled her up from the sofa with him as he stood, leading her to the fireplace and pointing to the portrait hanging over it. “That’s my father, Richard Aaron Leander.”

Maggie stared at the gilt-framed portrait of a handsome blond man in the prime of life, his pale robin’s-egg blue eyes alight with devilment. Except for the eyes, it was like looking at a portrait of Aaron.

“Leander.” Maggie remembered that name. “Martha Coleman is your sister?”

“Yes.” Tears flooded his eyes, threatening to overflow. “Don’t you understand? I’m the son of a man who was one of the wealthiest and most powerful in the South, and I can never claim him or my birthright because I’m a bastard.”

“But he wanted you to have it, to have half his fortune.”

“All the wealth in the world can never buy me legitimacy, can never give me respectability.” He gazed up at the portrait, transparent streaks of tears dampening his manly face.

But Eunice Arnold can,
Maggie thought, finally understanding why he was so obsessed with a proper marriage. She also understood that Martha Coleman knew what Aaron would not believe—that his father would tell him love was far more important than all the respectability this life had to offer. Somehow, she had to help Aaron. She had to make him see the truth. The only way either of them could ever be truly happy was together. The only way they could ever be together would be for them both to give up their dreams. Could she? Would he?

“I never want to hurt you, Maggie.” He took her in his arms, holding her tenderly. “I had no right to make love to you when I can’t offer you marriage.”

“Will tonight be good-bye? Is this the end for us?” She pulled away, waiting for his reply.

“I want you, but I won’t lie to you. I plan to marry Eunice.” He turned from her, ashamed of wanting her passionately and loving her so completely when he had no right.

“I want you,” she whispered as she walked to stand in front of the tall windows, moonlight setting her hair aflame. “One . . . last . . . time.”

When he turned around, he stood motionless, devouring the sight of her as she unbuttoned her tan muslin dress, slipped her arms out of the sleeves, and pushed it down her hips, letting it fall silently to the floor. Her cotton petticoats followed, and then the chemise, leaving her standing in the moonlight wearing only a corset and drawers. She breathed deeply, her large breasts rising and falling enticingly.

“Maggie—”

“No. Don’t say anything. Not yet.”

Ever so slowly, she unlaced her corset, easing it away from her body. Her full breasts glistened like ivory globes, the lamplight’s glow turning her jutting pink nipples to a dusty rose.

Aaron groaned. He wanted to touch her, but he waited. Her slender fingers loosened the string on her drawers, and then, with slow tantalizing grace, she stepped out of them, throwing them aside on top of her other clothing. Unashamed, she stood before him in all her naked glory, like a goddess offering herself to a mortal man.

Aaron removed his coat and vest, dropping them to the floor as he walked to Maggie, his big body trembling with desire.

He touched her face, gently running his fingers from temple to jawline, detouring once to circle her lips. He took her face in both hands and covered her lips with his. The kiss began like a gentle rain, but soon turned into a maelstrom of raging passion. His tongue parted her lips, plunging inside, delving into her honeyed sweetness. She responded, her own tongue wildly searching his mouth, mating with his.

An agonizing groan erupted from him when he prized his lips from hers and fell to his knees, circling her hips with his arms as he laid his head against her stomach and clutched her buttocks in his big hands. When his lips spread hot, wet kisses across her abdomen, Maggie’s knees buckled, and she cried out his name.

His hands moved in seductive strokes up and down the backs of her thighs while his tongue drew a loving path from her waist to the thatch of red curls covering her femininity.

“I want to taste you,” Aaron moaned as his fingers moved between her thighs, gently parting them to give him access to the secret part of her. His fingers delved gently into her waiting warmth.

“Aaron!” she gasped.

He placed his fingers to his lips, sampling her essence. “You taste so sweet.”

He lowered her gently to the floor and parted her thighs as his mouth and tongue replaced his fingers and drank his fill of her precious sweetness.

Maggie felt as if she were on fire, as if her body were ready to explode while Aaron continued loving her so intimately. She wanted him to stop, but she wanted him to go on forever. A spiral of pleasure began building deep within her, and with every stroke of his tongue she drew closer and closer to fulfillment. Then, her body burst into a flame that consumed her, red-hot sensations racing from her womanly center.

“Oh Aaron, Aaron,” she cried, trembling with completion.

He raised his head and smiled down at the angel lying so wantonly before him. He tugged off his shirt and threw it aside. He pulled her to him, lifting her into his arms and walking across the room to the sofa. He gently placed her on the soft, dark leather.

Watching him as he stripped out of his trousers and drawers, she rested against the sofa’s warmth. In the shimmering glow of lamplight, he stood naked, his manhood boldly erect. The pale light had turned his hair to silvery-gold and his flesh to solid bronze. His eyes gleamed like polished jade.

He lowered himself to her, his mouth taking hers in a kiss of total possession. He tasted faintly of cigar and strongly of good brandy, and nothing had ever tasted half so wonderful.

His naked flesh touched hers, one big long leg curling against hers as the other nestled between her thighs. His muscular legs were hard and hairy as they rubbed her delicate skin.

Maggie’s hands clutched him to her, massaging the bulging muscles in his big arms as he held himself above her, looking into her eyes. She put her mouth on his neck, her tongue gliding along the pulse beating wildly there, continuing the journey until her mouth encountered the springy fullness of his abundant chest hair. Spreading light, teasing kisses across his chest, she stopped at one tiny, male nipple hidden beneath the golden curls. Her tongue circled, stroked, and circled again.