The Widower's Wife (18 page)

As soon as Jillian opened the door to the parlor, a rush of warm air immediately brushed past her, causing her to shiver involuntarily from the change in temperature. Marcus must have stayed up quite a while after she had retired and kept the fire going. As she started to make her way over to get some wood, she heard a woman giggle obnoxiously, followed by a man’s voice, deep and caressing, in the hall outside their room. Jillian shivered again, not from the cold, but because there was something vaguely familiar about the man’s voice.

Something—maybe curiosity, maybe the churning feeling that had begun in her stomach—drew her to the door. Very quietly, she opened it just a crack and peered down the hall. In the dim light, she saw an attractive woman with her back against the door to a room up the hallway. She toyed with the lace on her bodice as a man leaned in closely to her. The man wore a hat, preventing Jillian from seeing but a small portion of the side of his face. The man leaned in closer, whispered something, and then brushed his lips against her ear. The woman laughed again and reached up, taking his hat from his head, but Jillian still couldn’t see his face clearly.

Mesmerized by the scene before her, Jillian knew she had no right to intrude on the private interlude between these two lovers, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. She and Nathan had never shared intimate moments such as this. The man leaned in again, and the woman seductively caught his lower lip with her mouth.

Jillian almost wished that she had courage enough to entice Nathan with an intimate move like that. The gesture having done its job, the man then took the woman instantly into his arms, crushing her body to his, and kissed her with a heated passion that caused Jillian to gasp silently and a blush to rise to her cheeks, merely being a witness to it.

Jillian stepped back from the door momentarily.
I shouldn’t be watching this!
Jillian thought. She had been raised to respect a person’s privacy, but witnessing the woman’s forwardness with this man piqued her curiosity, and she was drawn back to the door. She would only watch a moment more.

The man breathed heavily as he ended his impassioned kiss. He paused, looking deeply into the woman’s eyes. He leaned forward again, and Jillian saw the woman quiver in anticipation of his kiss. When their lips met, he began fumbling with the key in the lock of his door. Jillian again felt a blush rush to her face. He broke the kiss and began lightly caressing her neck with his lips as he finally managed to unlock the door.

“Let’s go inside, Lorelei,” he coaxed while trying to maneuver her into the room. “Just for a little while.” The woman was still trembling from his kiss, but Jillian saw her body stiffen. She straightened herself as if preparing to hold her ground.

“Now, you know very well that I’m not that kind of girl,” the woman answered firmly.

“Oh, come now, Lorelei, I just want to kiss your delicious lips a little more in private. I wouldn’t try anything improper, even though we are engaged now.”
So they’re going to being married
, Jillian thought. With his arms around the woman’s waist, the man tried to coax the woman into the room again. This time, she pulled away from him with determination, which seemed to make the man angry, but he quickly recovered himself.

“You won’t have to wait too much longer,” the woman said. “I absolutely detest long engagements.” She reached behind her and took his hands from her waist. She held them out in front of her and stepped back out of the doorway and into the hall while giving him a teasing smile. “You just need to learn a little more patience.” The man mumbled something Jillian could not quite hear.

The young woman leaned in for one last lingering kiss and turned to walk down the hall, away from Jillian. As she did, she turned her head back momentarily, smiled a satisfied smile, and called over her shoulder, “I’ll share your bed as soon as you marry me, Nathan Shaw, and not a moment before.”

Jillian shut the door quickly and leaned her back against it. Her heart raced, and she couldn’t catch her breath. Had she heard the woman right? She shook her head, as if trying to rid it of the sound of her betrothed’s name coming from the lips of another woman.

It couldn’t be Nathan. Not
her
Nathan! Could there be another Nathan Shaw staying at this hotel? No . . . what would be the chance of that? Her thoughts whirled back to the man’s voice. It had sounded vaguely familiar, but she had never heard Nathan speak in such soft, seductive tones as this man had.

Just then, she remembered the paper with Nathan’s room number on it. She had tossed it into her handbag without looking at it as soon as the clerk had handed it to her, thinking that when they returned from dinner, she would go to his room and see if he was there.

Jillian bolted to her room, lit the lamp, and searched around. Where had she laid her handbag when she had come in from dinner? Looking about the room, she saw it sitting on the night table. Quickly, she tore it open to retrieve the paper. Unfolding it, she saw a 38. She felt a jolt within her. Hers and Marcus’s room numbers were 34 and 35.

Jillian left her room and walked to the door that led into the hallway again. She paused with her hand on the door handle. With great trepidation, she once again opened the door and peered down the hall. It seemed to be empty—not a soul in sight—so she quickly stepped outside, leaving the door open behind her. Jillian took a deep breath and started inching slowly down the hall, keeping close to the wall, reading silently to herself the numbers on the doors as she passed them . . . 36 . . . 37 . . . she knew before she even looked at the door that her worst fears had been confirmed. She didn’t want to believe it. Through the tears that were streaming down her face, Jillian looked up at the number 38 on the door the man had disappeared through moments before.

Though her heart felt as if it had been crushed, a feeling of anger overtook her. She suddenly wanted to pound on the door and see his face, but as she raised her hand to do so, she heard him humming a tune on the other side of the door. Instead of knocking, she covered her face with her hands and crumbled to the floor. Unashamed, she let her tears flow freely. Her body was wracked with uncontrollable but quiet sobbing.

How could he do such a thing? She loved him! She had trusted him! How could he betray her like this? How had she not seen what kind of man he truly was? He had not only fooled her, but had misled her entire family. Her anger finally returned, and she harshly brushed the tears from her face. Jillian would never think of Nathan Shaw again with anything but contempt and loathing. Standing back up, she quickly escaped back to the parlor and secured the door firmly. She shivered. The parlor was cold now; all its warmth having escaped into the hall when she’d left the door open. Jillian walked hastily to her room, locked it, and leaned against the door for support. She had been awakened this night to the world and all the ugliness that could exist in it. Her dreams and hopes for the future had been stripped from her. There, sitting in the cold, having lost faith and hope in love, she gave in to the despair. Her body no longer fought the chill but embraced it, and she felt the icy fingers of hate and mistrust grab hold of and slowly lay claim to her heart.

In the early hours of the morning, exhausted from her spent tears and her weakened soul, sleep finally came. Jillian dreamt of Nathan in the arms of his lover. In the dream, they both turned and saw her watching them and began to laugh. Jillian just kept saying over and over, “I trusted you . . . Why did you do this? . . . I trusted you!”

Jillian woke with a start. The sun filtered through the lace curtains and made beautiful patterns on the wall across from her bed. Any other day, she would have stayed in bed a moment and pondered the wonder and beauty of it, but not today. She immediately climbed from her bed, washed and dressed herself, and began quickly packing her things. She took them into the parlor and set them by the door. She and Marcus had originally planned on spending most of the morning in town and heading back home to Providence in the afternoon. But now that there was no longer any need to stay, Jillian felt the need to leave forthwith.

She crossed the parlor, knocked on the door to Marcus’s room, and entered. Grabbing his bag, she began tossing his belongings inside, calling him awake as she did.

“Marcus! Marcus, wake up!” He was not easily awakened, so she went to the bed and shook him. “Marcus, you need to get up. We need to leave this minute.”

“Jillian? What’s this all about?” he said groggily. “We have a whole day to get back home. You go meet Nathan alone. I’ll take breakfast in my room.”

At the mention of Nathan’s name, a sob escaped Jillian’s throat, and Marcus was instantly awake. He took in her countenance, untangled himself from his bed, and walked over to her, deeply concerned.

“Jillian, what happened? Is it Nathan? Has he been hurt?” He was holding her shoulders, looking into her face. She saw the worry and concern in his face, but he would have to wait for an explanation.

“Marcus, I cannot speak about it right now. Just trust me. We must leave. We’ll talk on the way home,” she said quietly as she continued working.

“But, Jillian,” he pleaded, “please tell me what happened. Are
you
hurt?” Jillian shook her head and fought to hold back the torrent of tears that threatened to break free.

“Please, Marcus. Not now . . . not here. I’ve almost got your things packed. Get dressed so that we can go. I’ll be waiting.” She turned and walked out into the parlor. Marcus did not argue this time; he just let her go and dressed hurriedly.

As they checked out of the hotel, Marcus kept giving his sister worried glances. Jillian was grateful that he had stopped asking questions. She knew that if he found out what happened before they left town, he would search out Nathan, who would suffer greatly for having done her harm. But she wasn’t concerned for Nathan’s safety. No longer would she care for anything having the least bit to do with him. In fact, he would surely deserve anything Marcus would give him. She just needed, for her own sake, to get as far away from Boston and her former fiancé as possible.

So, in less than an hour from the time she had awakened, they were headed home. She knew she would have to hold Marcus off a little while before she confessed what she had seen so that he wouldn’t insist on turning around. Jillian sat glumly back in her seat, watching the scenery out the window while listening to the tapping sound Marcus was making with his fingers as he waited, not so patiently, across from her.

She had been right about him. When she finally confided the whole sordid story to him, Marcus had been so angry that he’d insisted they turn the carriage around and go back at once. It was only her pleading, bordering on hysteria, that finally convinced him that she needed to get home first and foremost. She could not endure being anywhere near Nathan ever again. For the rest of the trip home she had watched as angry flashes, along with the worried looks he intermittently directed at her, crossed his face.

When they arrived home, Marcus, uncharacteristically silent, helped her down from the carriage. He then immediately went to retrieve his horse from the stables. Before she was even inside the house, he had ridden past her at a gallop, back up the road in the direction they had come.

When Jillian remembered Marcus heading back to Boston so earnestly, the note scribbled at the end of his letter finally made sense. He had obviously found Nathan, but he had never confided in her what had transpired between them when he had gone back.

Jillian wondered for a moment what Nathan had done after Marcus confronted him about what she had seen. Did he marry the woman he had been kissing that night more than four months ago? She disregarded the thought instantly. She didn’t care what had become of Nathan Shaw. She never wished to see nor hear of him again. Instead, she turned her thoughts to Marcus and Bethany and their impending visit. Thoughts of seeing her brother and friend again soon caused her to drift off into a contented and pleasant slumber.

Nathan Shaw sat in the tavern, waiting for the card game to begin. He’d already had more to drink than he should have and would have a difficult time keeping his head in the game. He had lost too much money this month already, and soon his father would notice if he kept dipping into the business funds. O
h, what do I care. It’ll all be mine someday anyway,
he thought. Besides, he’d been angry with his father ever since Nathan’s reputation had been tarnished and his father refused to let him work. He said it would be bad for business because people didn’t like what they were hearing about Nathan. Not only had he lost his standing with the upper echelon because of his actions toward Miss Grey and her family, someone was spreading rumors all around town about him that attacked his moral character even more.

From the far side of the saloon, he heard a woman laugh. The laugh reminded him of Jillian and sounded out of place for the dive he was sitting in. He had to look, even though he knew it wouldn’t be her. The woman turned and flashed him a more-than-friendly grin. Self-consciously, his hand went to his nose, and he felt the crooked ridgeline there. He would forever hate Marcus Grey for breaking his nose and blackening his eyes. The bruising had healed long ago, but his nose would never be the same, forever marring his good looks. Bitterly, Nathan thought back on that disastrous business trip to Boston.

Everything had been going fine until the night Jillian came to see him. Nathan had been in Boston for two weeks and in between his duties with his father’s business, he found himself spending time with Miss Lorelei Davis. She was an attractive little thing, and that woman did things to him. She acted the “good girl” part well, but secretly he suspected she was not as virtuous as she pretended to be. He had heard rumors. Rumors that led him to believe that she was precisely the kind of girl he was looking for.