The Right Wife (17 page)

“My, Eunice, don’t you look lovely tonight.” Thayer’s lazy gaze moved over the willowy blonde.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, you both remember Miss Maggie, don’t you? Tonight’s her brother Micah’s seventeenth birthday, and we’re enjoying a little family celebration.”

“I didn’t know you were part of the Campbell family,” Aaron said.

The people near the two couples were all watching, whispering, and pointing. Maggie felt very uncomfortable being the center of so much attention. She could well imagine what everyone was saying. How many of these good people thought that she was now Thayer Coleman’s mistress?

“You might say that I’m an honorary member,” Thayer said. “Isn’t that right, Maggie?”

Thayer had called her name, but she wasn’t sure what he had said. She was too busy trying not to look at Aaron, and wishing that she had gone on the buggy with Micah and Jude.

“Aaron, I do need a private word with you,” Thayer requested. “I promise to only keep him a few minutes, Eunice.”

Suddenly Maggie found herself alone beside the Widow Arnold, the two men moving toward a less crowded area. She uttered up a prayer, asking God to keep her from clawing out the other woman’s eyes.

“It’s rather warm tonight, isn’t it?” Eunice said, looking around her, avoiding facing Maggie directly.

“Yes.”

“I understand your family is still living in Thayer’s house.”

“Yes.”

“Are you taking in sewing?” Eunice’s brown eyes traveled the length of Maggie’s dress, from the simple high-necked bodice to the long, slightly tapered skirt.

Self-consciously, Maggie straightened the green gingham bow centered at her waist where her polonaise of the same tiny checks met in soft gathers. “Yes, I am.”

Why was the woman trying so hard to carry on a polite conversation when it was apparent that she hated Maggie as much as Maggie hated her? Obviously, genteel ladies were taught that social graces had to be observed in public under any and all conditions.

“Did you enjoy the play?” Eunice asked, a tight smile on her pale face. “Aaron found it quite amusing. I’m sure that once we’re married, we will continue to come here often.”

“It’ll be a long drive from White Orchard.”

“Oh, dear, you can’t mean you actually think Aaron will want to live on the God-forsaken plantation once he marries me? He knows I love living in town.”

“Does he?”

“Of course he does. White Orchard might be suitable for a summer place, but I have plans for us to build a new house in town.”

“I see.” Oh, yes, Maggie could see. She could see how completely miserable Aaron would be married to the good widow.

“You heard about Rube Whitcomb escaping from jail, didn’t you?” Thayer asked.

“Is that why you dragged me all the way over here, to tell me something I knew before noon today?” Aaron growled, taking a cigar from his coat pocket.

“I guess you’re not worried since I’m the one he was shooting at.”

“We both testified against him, and I’m the one who pressed charges. But I figured he’s long gone from these parts by now.” Aaron lit the cigar, the silver smoke spiraling out into the darkness.

“Yeah, that’s what I think.”

“Then what’s this all about?”

“I thought you might want to join me tonight. I’m taking young Micah Campbell out on the town to celebrate his birthday the way gentlemen should.”

“You’re taking him to Loretta’s?” Aaron laughed, then took a puff on his cigar.

“Damn right. What better way to celebrate? I think it’s the perfect birthday present for the boy.”

“Have you asked Maggie?” Aaron could imagine her reaction. She felt very maternal about her younger siblings.

“She’d only worry if she knew.”

“Worry? She’d flay the daylights out of you, and him, too.”

“Micah wants to go. He’s eager to drink hard liquor and have his first woman. Come with us. Verda’s back in town, and she’s working at Loretta’s now. You’d enjoy a tumble with her. She’s one sweet—”

“I have to take Eunice home.”

“So take her home. Meet me at the town house. We’ll wait for you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“What happened, did Maggie castrate you?”

Aaron felt heat suffuse his face. Damn Thayer! The man knew him too well. He hadn’t had another woman since the day he’d met Maggie Campbell in May. Here it was August, and he still had no desire to bed anyone but the flame-haired witch who went wild in his arms.

“Wait for me.” Aaron threw his half-smoked cigar to the ground, crushing it with his foot. “I’ll meet you as soon as I escort Eunice home. I’m looking forward to seeing Verda again.”

Maggie planted both small fists on her hips and glared up at Aaron Stone. There was nothing she would like better than to slap his face. He had arrived only minutes earlier, standing in the doorway, refusing to come in. Thayer and Micah were standing directly behind her in the foyer.

“I said, where are you planning on taking Micah for this all-male party?” she demanded.

“Ah, Maggie, quit making such a fuss and just let us leave,” Micah said.

“I promise I’ll look after him,” Thayer added, placing a brotherly arm about the young man’s shoulders.

“I can well imagine what you two have in mind for him,” Maggie said. “You’ll have him smoking and drinking and gambling and worse.”

“And worse, Maggie?” Aaron asked, looking past her at the two young men shaking their heads and waving their arms, warning him against pushing this mothering female too far.

“You know very well that I’m talking about whores,” Maggie said. “Just because you and Thayer have bedded every whore in the South doesn’t mean my brother should.”

“Ah, Maggie, it’s my birthday.” Micah moved closer to his sister and placed a hand on her tense arm.

“You want to go, don’t you?” she asked, her yellow eyes flashing golden sparks.

“Look, Maggie,” Thayer intervened. “I’ll admit we’re planning on going to Loretta’s, but I promise that we’ll take care of Micah and bring him home all in one piece come morning.”

While she stood with her back to them, her shoulders shaking from rage and unshed tears, Thayer pulled a reluctant Micah toward the waiting carriage.

Aaron hated to see her so upset, but sooner or later she’d have to let go of Micah and allow him to live his own life. She had been a mother to him far too long.

“Maggie.”

“What are you still doing here?” she screeched as she twirled around to face him.

“Micah is a young man with needs. It’s only normal he’d want a woman.” Aaron was so close to her that he could feel the warmth of her body.

“Damn you!”

“Quit thinking like a mother. You can’t keep him away from what he wants. He should have already had his first woman before now.”

“And of course, who should know better than you. You probably had your first woman when you were twelve.”

Aaron laughed, realizing that all of her spitting and scratching was as much over the fact that he was going to Loretta’s as over anything else. “Hardly, I was sixteen.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Maggie, you’re jealous.”

“What?”

“You don’t like the idea that I might enjoy the pleasure of another woman in my bed.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her gently. “Will you calm yourself if I promise to stay away from all of Loretta’s girls?”

“I don’t care what you do. You’re not my husband. You’re not my fiancé. You’re not my anything!”

“Oh, but Maggie, I am. I’m your lover.”

She looked up into his smiling face. He was so cocksure. She longed to strike him. She’d show him! But when she raised her hand to slap him, he grabbed her wrist seconds before her palm made contact with his cheek.

“Temper, temper, Maggie.” He pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she struggled to free herself.

“Let me go!”

“Not until you calm down.”

She stopped struggling and stood perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the silky sheen of his tie. “They’re waiting on you. Go on!”

“I’d rather stay here with you, but we both know that I can’t.”

“Don’t do this to me,” she cried. “Don’t do this to us.”

His lips moved over hers, savoring the taste.

“No, don’t,” she sighed.

“Oh, sweet Maggie, I have to.”

Their mouths joined, open and waiting, their tongues mating in a frenzy of need. He stroked her back with his big hand as her arms reached up to circle his neck. In one deft movement, he pulled her hair free from the loose bun confining it.

She could not resist this. Maybe she didn’t really want to. Did he own her, body and soul? Perhaps. And it was just possible that she wielded the same power over him.

“I want you,” Aaron groaned, burying his face in the rainwater sweetness of her hair as his lips nibbled on her ear.

Her feet dangled in the air as he held her tightly. His mouth covered hers again.

“Aaron!” Thayer’s voice called loudly from the carriage where he and Micah waited, Phineas standing vigil by the horses.

Aaron lowered Maggie’s feet to the porch, his head descending as he continued kissing her.

“Let’s go,” Thayer called out again. “We want to get there before midnight.”

“I have to go,” Aaron said, still holding her in his arms.

“I am jealous.” She pulled back, looking up into his emerald eyes so full of desire.

The moonlight shimmered dark and then light as a cloud passed across the yellow globe. Far in the distance a dog barked, and close by the carriage horses whinnied. Reality and unreality blended.

“I haven’t bedded another woman since the day we met.”

“Aaron?”

“Maybe I should. Maybe it would free us both.”

“No. Please, no.”

He kept walking toward the waiting carriage. “Let’s get going,” he called out to Thayer. “I want to get to Loretta’s and have a celebration drink with Verda.”

Maggie stood on the herringbone brick walkway watching the cabriolet drive away. She choked back the tears as pain gripped her chest. Damn Aaron Stone! Damn men!

She turned and walked toward the porch, stopping to pick a bud from the pink rosebush growing near the steps. She held it to her nose, breathing in its uniquely sweet fragrance.

Would Aaron make love to this Verda creature? The thought was more than she could bear. Hot, salty tears ran from her topaz eyes and covered the tender petals of the rosebud she held tightly in her hand.

M
aggie rested her head in her hands as she sat curled up in a brown leather wing chair in the town house library, the wrinkled edge of her green muslin dress wrapped over her bare feet. Moonlight cast shadowy images against the paneled walls and numerous bookshelves while she sat alone staring out the long, narrow windows into the backyard. She had not made any attempt to go to bed because she knew sleep would be impossible. After checking on a peacefully sleeping Jude for the third time, she had finally retreated to the library where she had been sitting and thinking for hours.

It was useless worrying about Micah. No doubt, he was having the time of his life. He would never have made a minister anyway. He enjoyed worldly pleasures far too much. Maybe all of the Campbells were doomed to sins of the flesh.

Ever since Ma had died when Jude was born, Maggie had taken over. Mothering had come naturally to her. But Micah didn’t need that anymore. She had to let go. Aaron and Thayer had forced her to accept the fact that her little brother was a man, and men made their own decisions and lived their own lives.

She couldn’t help but wonder what decisions Aaron had made once he got to Loretta’s. Was he, at this very minute, in bed with the bosomy Verda? Had he been with her all night?

Maggie hurt. The pain was everywhere. It was inside her body, tormenting her mind, ripping her heart to shreds. It was all around her, crushing down on her, suffocating her. Moment by moment, the anguish of jealousy steadily grew until she was afraid that she was going insane. She was tempted to go to Loretta’s, to find Aaron, to see what he was doing, and with whom. The reality could be no worse than the images in her mind.

She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out the tiny pink rosebud she had plucked so many hours ago. It was already dying, darkness edging the petals. Like dreams, so beautiful when fresh but destined to an early end, the flower lay in Maggie’s palm, a symbol of all she had hoped, a reminder of all she had lost. Had it been only ten weeks ago that she had left Grovesdale with a heart full of wishes and a head full of plans? Micah would probably take that job on Aaron’s steamboat and spend his life roaming the river. That was a far cry from the respectable profession Pa had wanted for him. And what about Jude? Was it foolish to expect that dream to come true? Maggie’s own reputation might prove to be the major reason this town would never accept Judith as a lady. Had her love for Aaron destroyed everything?

She didn’t want to love him. She wanted to hate him, and a part of her did. That aching part of her heart, that tortured part of her brain that could so vividly see his big, gloriously naked body twined around that brunette whore. Oh, God! The pain. He didn’t really love her. If he did, he couldn’t do this.

Placing the rosebud back in her pocket, she jumped up and ran to Thayer’s desk, rummaging through the drawers, feeling over the contents there in the darkness. She found a cigar, pulled it out of the box, and held it in her trembling fingers. Holding it to her nose, she breathed deeply, inhaling the aroma of tobacco as she crushed it in her hand. One by one, she took them from the box, crumpling them to pieces, letting the fragments fall across the desktop.

When the tears began again, she brushed them aside with tobacco-stained fingers. She moved to the window, standing solemnly as silent cries of suffering filled the room. Staring out the window, she caught sight of Daisy moving across the backyard from the cabin toward the house. Wondering why the servant girl was up and entering the house at this time of night, she decided to find out.

When Maggie entered the kitchen, she quickly blew out the candle she held since Daisy had apparently lit the kerosene lamp that was burning brightly on the square, wooden table. The servant was just starting a fire in the cook-stove.

“Daisy, what are you doing?”

Daisy gasped and jumped. “Lordy, Miss Maggie, you scared me.”

“It’s not daybreak yet. What are you doing heating up the stove?”

“I wasn’t feeling none too good, Miss Maggie. I figured I’d make myself some coffee and get me an early start.”

Maggie stared at the woman, suddenly noticing how pale her golden skin appeared. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hands were shaking.

“Daisy, what’s wrong?”

“Sit down and let me fix that coffee. You ain’t been to bed all night, have you?” Daisy quickly placed coffee beans into the grinder, turning the crank. “Don’t worry yourself so about Mr. Micah.”

“You know where he is?”

“Yes’am. My Phineas was driving them there.” The girl poured the freshly ground coffee into the metal pot, added water from a nearby bucket, and placed it on the stove.

Maggie pulled out a high-backed chair and sat down at the table. “Aaron went with them.”

“Yes’am.”

“I think he’s with that horrible Verda. You know, that woman who came by here the other day.”

“Does that bother you more than knowing, if he marries Miz Arnold, he’ll be in her bed every night?”

“Oh, Daisy,” Maggie cried.

Daisy held her seated mistress against her, stroking her hair, patting her back. “Hush now, Miss Maggie. You going to make yourself sick. Things is the way they is. Ain’t no need to fret so.”

Pulling back, Maggie looked up at Daisy. “Nothing’s gone right since we came here. All my plans have been ruined. Micah’s out getting drunk and . . . and half the town thinks Aaron and Thayer are passing me back and forth like a bottle of whiskey. And you, Daisy . . . look what happened to you.”

“Don’t you worry about me. Things is working out. Phineas done ask me to marry him.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Maggie jumped up, swinging the girl around and around.

Daisy laughed, but jerked away, holding on to the table. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m getting sick again.”

“What is it?”

“It ain’t nothing catching. It’s just a sickness a woman sometimes get when she’s going to have a baby.”

“Daisy?”

“Phineas knows. That’s why we want to get married next week.”

“A baby. Oh, Daisy, are you happy?”

“Oh, Miss Maggie, I wish I was.”

“But why aren’t you? You and Phineas love one another, and you’re going to be married.”

“Sit down, Miss Maggie. I’ll see about the coffee.”

Daisy took two stoneware cups and saucers from the small corner cabinet and placed them on the table, then poured them full of fresh, hot coffee. Seating herself, she turned to her mistress. “We want to marry next week and move to White Orchard. Phineas don’t want nobody to know about the baby till after we’re married.”

Maggie smiled, thinking how kind Daisy’s future husband must be to want to protect her. Under the same circumstances, would Aaron do the same? “He’s trying to be gentlemanly.”

“He’s trying to protect me from this baby’s father.”

“What?”

“This ain’t Phineas’s child. We never been together yet. After what happened, I didn’t want nobody touching me.”

“Are you saying that this child belongs to the man who beat and raped you?”

“Yes’am.”

“Oh, dear Lord!”

“You won’t never tell nobody, will you, Miss Maggie?”

“Oh, Daisy,” Maggie cried, her hands covering the other woman’s as they lay on the table. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. Everything. I should never have brought us here.”

“You hush up. It ain’t your fault. You did what you had to do.”

“He asked me to marry him.” Maggie looked Daisy squarely in the eyes.

“You know, don’t you? You knew today when he left here.”

“Yes, I know. I finally realized that Wesley is insane. Oh, not the good Reverend Peterson part of him that he shows to the world. That side of him had me fooled. He was so good to me. To all of us.”

“That’s why I couldn’t tell you. You was counting on him and his ma to help you with Mr. Micah and Miss Jude.”

“Oh, Daisy, when I think about what he did to you.”

“Don’t. I try not to. You just stay away from him. He said I’d been sleeping with Phineas. He had been watching us. He was standing in the shadows, watching Phineas kiss me good night. He said I was the devil’s seed, put on this earth to tempt men to sin.”

“Does Phineas know that it was Wesley?”

“Oh, no! He must never know. He’d kill that man if he knew.”

Daisy laid her head on the table and cried as Maggie comforted her, the two women sharing a secret they could tell no one.

Maggie wondered if Aaron Stone was half the man his black friend was. Phineas loved Daisy enough to marry her knowing that she carried the child of the madman who had raped her. Would Aaron be unselfish enough to give up his obsession for respectability to marry the mother of his unborn child?

She wasn’t positive, but she had suspected that she had conceived Aaron’s child the first time they had made love. She had missed her monthly flow for the first time since it had started when she’d been eleven.

Should she tell Aaron? Would he marry her? Would he even believe the child was his with half the town thinking she was Thayer’s mistress? Perhaps she should tell Thayer. Maybe he could help her. He was Aaron’s best friend. He knew him better than anyone else.

Without a husband, she would be branded a whore and her child a bastard. If that happened, there would be no hope for them anywhere, and the fate that had befallen Aaron would haunt his own child. And Jude, poor little Jude. Any hope for her future would end.

“Please, dear God, help us,” Maggie prayed.

Aaron had seen the light in the kitchen before he helped Phineas drag the two drunken men onto the back porch. Micah had passed out on the carriage ride home, and Phineas had the boy thrown over his shoulder while Aaron supported a staggering Thayer.

Aaron wasn’t surprised to see the two women sitting at the kitchen table. He had suspected that Maggie would be waiting up for them.

“Oh, Lord!” Maggie screamed, running to Phineas, touching her brother’s tousled auburn hair. “What happened? Is he hurt?”

“No, ma’am,” the big black man said smiling.

“Calm down, Maggie. He’s fine,” Aaron assured her, his arm under Thayer’s arm as he pulled him through the room. “He’s drunk. He passed out.”

“Damn your rotten hide, Aaron Stone,” the redhead yelled.

“Oh, Maggie, sweet Maggie,” Thayer blubbered, reaching out to her.

“We’ll get these two to bed, Miss Maggie,” Phineas said as he looked at Daisy, his dark eyes warm with love.

“Sit back down, Miss Maggie,” Daisy said. “Phineas will take good care of Mr. Micah.”

“Go on, Phineas,” Maggie said. “And you help Thayer. But I want to have a word with you, Aaron Stone, unless you’re about to pass out drunk yourself.”

“Leave it be, woman,” Aaron said, leading his friend out of the kitchen.

Angry and determined, Maggie followed the men to the back stairway. “Don’t you order me around. I’m not through with you.”

“Then shut up yakking, and we’ll have ourselves a real showdown as soon as I put Thayer to bed. Just wait right here.” Aaron moved slowly up the steps, a tipsy Thayer humming happily, and Phineas following, Micah still out cold across his big shoulder.

Maggie paced back and forth in the dark hallway. Men! They had to be the dumbest creatures God ever made. How could getting so drunk you couldn’t even stand on your own two feet be fun? She had a few things she wanted to say to Mr. Stone if he could find his way back downstairs. Well, if he couldn’t she’d just go upstairs after him. She intended to find out just what had happened to Micah tonight, and she would ask Aaron, point blank, if he had bedded another woman. She had tried to convince herself that, no matter what he said, he would never marry Eunice Arnold because he didn’t love the woman. But if he had made love to one of Loretta’s whores, it would mean he didn’t really love Maggie either.

She stomped her foot and whirled around, going back into the kitchen. She was tired of waiting in the dark hallway. She’d just pour herself another cup of coffee and bide her time. If Aaron didn’t have enough nerve to face her, she’d know the truth.

Aaron opened the kitchen door quietly and looked inside. Maggie stood, coffee cup in hand, looking out the back door. Her green dress was terribly wrinkled. Her long, cinnamon hair hung in loosely tangled curls to her tiny waist. He wanted to go over and take her in his arms, but he knew she would turn on him like a spitting kitten if he touched her. She was primed and ready for a fight, so he decided it was best to get it over with. Then, maybe . . .

“Micah’s in bed, safe and sound,” Aaron said.

She kept her back to him. “I want to know exactly what happened.”

“Every detail?”

“The main details.”

“We drank, played cards, told jokes, and were entertained by Loretta’s ladies.”

“Micah didn’t have much money.”

“It was our birthday present. I think he enjoyed it.”

“How would he know? He passed out. He probably won’t even remember.”

“He didn’t pass out until we were on our way home. And believe me, he’ll remember. This was a night he’ll never forget.”

Maggie turned to face her tormentor. “Did he . . . was he with . . .”

“We introduced him to Verda. You’ll have to ask Micah if you want the details on what they did alone together in her room.” Aaron walked into the kitchen, a smile on his handsome face.

“You didn’t mind sharing Verda with my brother?” Maggie’s eyes flashed amber fire. “Did you have her first, or did you have to wait?”

“My dear Miss Campbell, that’s a very personal question.”

“Damn you,” Maggie screeched, hurling the empty coffee cup at Aaron’s head. With a resounding thud, it clipped him directly above his right eye, then fell, crashing onto the floor.

“Good God, woman. Are you trying to kill me?” He reached up, running his fingers across the small bump swelling at his brow.

“Yes. Maybe Rube Whitcomb will shoot you again now that he’s escaped. He’d do the world a favor by killing you this time.”

“So, you’d rather see me dead than in the arms of another woman?”

“You can bed as many whores as you want to. I don’t care. I just want you to stay out of my life and out of Micah’s.”