Annie's Song by catherine anderson (4)

Grabbing for her wrists, he ducked to avoid her blows. As he captured her hands, she let loose with a wail of terror. Using his greater strength and weight to best advantage, he quickly pinned her to the bed, holding her arms anchored above her head and immobilizing her thrashing legs with an angled thigh.

She arched her back, her lungs whining for breath, as she strained helplessly to break his hold.

“Annie love, it’s me.” Alex reared up so his face was above hers. “It’s me, sweetheart.”

In the moonlight, her eyes were large, luminescent spheres in her pale face, her spiked lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Unable to move, she stared up at him. Slowly her expression went from one of panic to relief. With a ragged sob, she went totally limp.

Releasing her arms, Alex gathered her against his chest.

Like a terrified child, she looped her arms around his neck and clung to him, her entire body convulsing with sobs and a horrible shaking. Heartsick, he pressed his face against her sweet-smelling hair, knowing without having to ask that she must have seen Douglas in the hall. Seeking protection, she had come here, only to find him gone.

Taking care not to hurt her, Alex rolled onto his back, carrying her with him, never loosening his hold on her. He could only imagine how frightened she must have been.

Douglas, her rapist, inside the house. His guts knotted on a wave of shame. He was at fault for this. Cupping a hand over the back of her neck, Alex pressed a kiss to her temple.

Momentarily forgetting she couldn’t hear him, he whispered hoarsely, “Oh, Annie, forgive me. I’m sorry. So very sorry.”

Her violent shivering didn’t relent. Running a hand over her back, he felt coolness seeping through her flannel nightgown.

Hiding as she had been under the blankets, he knew she couldn’t actually be cold. But there was still no denying that she felt chilled. Judging by the way she trembled, she was chilled clear to the bone.

Tucking in his chin, he repositioned her head on his shoulder so she might see his face. “It’s all right, Annie. He’s gone.”

She gave a jerky nod and squeezed her eyes closed. Alex ran his hands briskly over her back and hip, trying in the only way he knew to restore her circulation. Despite his ministrations, her teeth continued to clack. When several more minutes passed and she still hadn’t stepped shaking, he began to grow alarmed.

“What you need, young lady, is a long, hot soak in the tub and some of Maddy’s Irish coffee.”

She clung more tightly to Alex’s shoulders when he started to move.

“Annie...” Turning onto his side, Alex brushed his fingertips along her cheek and forced a smile. “I’m just going downstairs to get some hot water from the range reservoir. I’ll be back before you can count to—” He nearly said “a hundred” but caught himself. “Before you can count to forty. You’ll be safe here, I promise. Have I ever lied to you?’’

She gave her head a little shake and loosened her arms from around his neck. The look on her face caught at his heart, and he kissed the end of her nose. “There’s a good girl. I’ll be right back. You stay here. Keep the blankets over yourself, all right?’’

Again, her only response was to nod. Alex slipped from the bed, hating to leave her. When he turned to look back at her, though, the shuddering he saw going on under the coverlet convinced him he had no choice.

A few minutes later when he returned to the bedroom, he was carrying two five-gallon buckets filled with hot water.

After taking them to the water closet, he lighted the lamps in there and set himself to the task of preparing her a bath. When he had drawn enough cold water from the tap to partly fill the tub, he added the hot water from the buckets and tested the temperature with the inside of his wrist.

When he returned to the bed, he drew the coverlet down from Annie’s face. “Up you go. Let’s get you in the tub.”

Teeth chattering, her small body shaking, she managed to sit up and swing her slender legs over the side of the mattress.

Alex helped her to stand and walk to the water closet. Afraid she might think he intended to disrobe her, he leaned slightly forward so she could read his lips as he explained, “While you’re undressing and taking a soak, I’m going to go back down to the kitchen and make you some Irish coffee. Maddy’s special recipe, guaranteed to warm you clear to the marrow of your bones.”

At the edge of the tub, she reached to unfasten the small buttons on the bodice of her gown, but her hands and body were shaking so badly that her fingers couldn’t home in on their target. Alex smoothed her hair back from her shoulders and took over the task, his concern mounting with each button he popped free. In his memory, he had seen only two individuals suffering from shock, and as he recalled, both of them had been stricken with violent shakes. Had Annie’s terror of Douglas been so great that she was in shock?

Alex didn’t know. He only knew that she seemed frighteningly fragile to him in that moment, swollen tummy and all. Slender little hands, lined with delicate bones. Narrow shoulders. Upper arms he could encompass with the span of his fingers. He wanted to gather her close and infuse his body heat into hers. To hold her until all thought of Douglas fled her mind.

As he finished unbuttoning her gown, she plucked shakily at the wristband of one sleeve, her intent obviously to work her arm out. Looking on, Alex could see that she’d never manage to get the garment off by herself. Shit.

Ducking down to get her attention, he arched his eyebrows.

“You want me to help, sweet?”

Shivering violently, she shook her head, planted the heel of one hand against his shoulder, and gave him a little push. He recognized an invitation to leave when he received one. He just hoped she could manage without him. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Grabbing a linen towel from the rack, he laid it over the edge of the oblong tub. “Cover yourself with that once you get in. It doesn’t matter if you get it wet. That way, when I come back, you won’t feel uncomfortable. All right?”

She nodded jerkily. Against his better judgment, Alex turned on his heel, closing the door of the water closet as he exited. En route from the bedroom, he paused at his armoire to grab a shirt, which he donned but didn’t button as he strode down the hall.

Once downstairs, he hastened to build a small fire in the cookstove to reheat the pot of coffee that sat on a burner. That done, he partially filled a mug, added a dollop of cream, and then topped off the cup with whiskey. After adding some sugar to taste, he headed back upstairs, expecting to find Annie up to her armpits in steaming hot water. Instead he found her sitting on the chamber pot commode, still wearing her gown, her arms hugging her middle.

“Annie...”

Alex set the mug of Irish coffee on the washstand and hunkered down in front of her. Never had he seen anyone shake like this. If the hot bath and whiskey-laced coffee didn’t help, he would have to send for Dr. Muir. Given her pregnancy, he wasn’t about to take any chances.

Fleetingly, Alex considered wakening Maddy to come help Annie into her bath, but he quickly discarded the thought. The housekeeper was sound asleep in another wing of the house. In the time it would take for her to get up, find a robe and slippers, and come to Alex’s suite, the damned water would be getting tepid.

Grimly determined, he grasped one of Annie’s hands, pried it from her ribs, and unfastened the button on her cuff. “I’m going to help you just a bit,” he informed her as he unfastened her other sleeve. At her dismayed expression, he flashed a grin.

“Honey, I’ll have you out of that gown and into the tub so fast, all I’ll see is a blur.”

She didn’t look convinced, but, concerned for her health, Alex gave her no opportunity to balk. Grasping her by the shoulders, he drew her up from the commode and got handfuls of the nightgown, all in one fell swoop. “Up with your arms.”

He wasn’t sure if she obliged him or if he dragged her arms up as he tugged the gown over her head. No matter. The instant she felt the hem lifting, she assisted him in the endeavor by jerking her arms free so she could attempt to cover herself. Alex couldn’t help smiling slightly at what she chose to hide. Not her chest as most females might. Instead she angled one arm over her protruding stomach and clamped her other hand over the dark triangle of hair at the apex of her slender thighs. He was afforded a delightful display of her breasts, the tips of which had darkened with her advancing pregnancy to a deep rose.

He jerked his gaze away and made a valiant effort not to let it wander back. That proved a little difficult as he tried to assist her into the tub. Given her shaking, he didn’t trust her footing or the strength of her arms to lower herself in. Where to grab a naked and very pregnant lady? Alex steered away from her waist, afraid he might hurt her or the babe. Her hips were out of the question. Too tantalizing. Too everything. He settled for grasping her under the arms.

Big mistake. He clenched his teeth and made a heroic attempt to think about baseball scores as he helped her step into the water. His palms felt on fire, and, facing her as he was, there was no place to put his thumbs but under her breasts. The silken brush of her skin against his knuckles brought beads of sweat to his brow. Ungainly and awkward, she bent at the knees, legs quivering. Alex continued to support her weight as she sank into the water. Baseball scores? Jesus. He couldn’t even recollect the names of the teams.

“There you go. Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

The ache in Alex’s groin made him think of the time a colt had kicked him in the crotch, but that seemed beside the point.

There was something seriously wrong with him, he decided. A normal man should not find a pregnant woman attractive. But to him, Annie was beautiful.

He sat on the commode lid and braced his elbows on his knees, hoping to God she hadn’t noticed his arousal. His gaze shifted to the towel he’d left out for her, and he willed her to reach for it. Instead, shivering and shuddering, she pressed her back to the sloped end of the tub and sank down in the hot water, which came to her nipples and buoyed her breasts.

Counting his blessings, however small, Alex was thankful that, from his present position, he could see her breasts, the upper swell of her tummy, and nothing more. More, he couldn’t handle.

Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth to stop their clacking. Alex fixed his gaze on the floor and spent several tense moments counting squares of tile.

When that quickly grew tiresome, he regarded the toes of his boots. From there, he turned his attention to his fingernails, then to his cuticles. When he glanced at Annie again, it seemed to him she was shivering less.

He pushed to his feet. At his movement, which she must have felt through the floor, she opened her eyes. “How’s about some of Maddy’s coffee now?”

She grabbed for the towel. Quickly unfolding it, she shook it out over the water and covered herself from the belly down, leaving her breasts exposed. Alex handed her the mug, which, due to her shakiness, she took into both hands. The instant she released the towel, it went floating away. She grabbed for it, sloshing coffee onto her upper chest.

“Here,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Let me handle the cup.

You tend to the towel.”

As he took the mug, she jerked the square of linen over her abdomen again and anchored it there with tight little fists.

Hunkering beside the tub, Alex struggled not to chuckle. It was patently obvious to him that for all her modesty and wariness, she was mainly concerned with hiding her swollen waistline and what was nestled between those lovely thighs of hers, the devil take her breasts.

That puzzled Alex. He’d met a few females who weren’t shy about displaying their charms, but never anyone like Annie. She wasn’t trying to be provocative, that was plain.

She honestly didn’t seem to realize that it was as important to keep her chest concealed from a man’s admiring gaze as it was the rest of her. It was as if no one had ever bothered to explain to her that—

A sudden memory struck Alex. As clearly as if it were yesterday, he recalled going wading up near the falls as a young child. There had been a community celebration of some kind up there, a picnic of sorts, with outdoor games and food galore. In the heat of the afternoon, most of the small children, under adult supervision, had been allowed to go wading.

Stripped to their underdrawers, boys and girls alike had romped in the water. Alex had been about five at the time, but there had been kids as old as six or seven in the stream as well.

None of the little girls had seemed embarrassed about being seen bare chested. In that stage of their development, there had been nothing for them to feel embarrassed about.

Pressing the mug to Annie’s lips, Alex watched with growing tenderness as she took a dainty sip of Maddy’s remedy. At the taste of the liquor, she wrinkled her nose.

Alex coaxed her to take another sip, then reached to smooth a damp tendril of dark hair from her cheek.

“It’ll rid you of the shivers,” he assured her when she cast him another look of distaste.

She fiddled with the towel, the loose end of which kept catching air and floating off to one side, baring her nether regions. As he studied her, he recalled the morning of their wedding and how she had sat on the landing above him, apparently unconcerned about the view he might have up her frock. And the day in the nursery, when he had kissed her breasts? He had expected her to be frightened, but instead she had watched him fumble with her buttons and chemise, curious but unafraid. Until he had tried to put a hand up her skirt, she hadn’t seemed aware that there was a connection between his kissing her breasts and what Douglas had done to her.

Annie... robbed of her hearing at six and shuffled away into the shadows, where she had been kept ignorant of people and their social mores. Even to Alex, the rules of society didn’t make much sense half the time. Naturally this girl didn’t clutch the towel to her breasts. What had she to hide? Little girls of six kept their lower anatomy covered because they were taught to do so from an early age. Shyness about their upper bodies came later, an attitude that was taught to them by their mothers a year or so prior to their developing breasts. By the time Annie reached puberty, she had already been a pariah, her social circle limited to immediate family and trusted servants, her only contact with the outside world, aside from accidental encounters with people, with wild animals and attic mice.

Putting the mug to her lips again, Alex said, “Two big gulps this time, Annie love.” When she obeyed him, he smiled.

“There’s my girl. A little more. Come on.”

She gulped twice more. “I don’t like it.”

“I didn’t figure you would,” he admitted. “I made it pretty strong.” Pleased to note that her shaking had all but stopped, he looked deeply into her eyes. “I’m sorry about all this, Annie.” Averting his gaze, he swallowed. “I, um ...” He looked back at her. “If you never forgive me, I won’t blame you.”

She studied him, looking slightly bewildered. “For what? It wasn’t your fault.”

For a fleeting instant, Alex considered taking the easy way out. But he loved her too much to lie to her, even if the truth made her think less of him. “For being so— where Douglas is concerned, I’m weak. I always have been. I should have kicked him out of the house, straight off. I knew when I didn’t that it was wrong, that I was betraying your trust. But I—’’

He set the mug back on the washstand, avoiding her gaze.

“Before it was over, I regretted not showing him the door, believe me.”

She reached out suddenly, touching tremulous fingertips to his broken knuckles. He glanced up, straight into the bluest, most honest eyes he’d ever seen. For several endless seconds, neither of them moved. He had the awful feeling she was looking clear to his soul and seeing far more than he wanted her to. “Oh, Alex.”

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say once more. “You’ll never know how sorry. Douglas is rotten, and he’s mean. He deserves anything he gets. But I gave him money anyway. I know that must seem crazy to you. Probably to everyone.”

She deserved more of an explanation than that, and Alex knew it. But now didn’t seem the time to discuss it. He wasn’t sure there would ever be a good time.

As if she sensed his turmoil, her eyes darkened with concern.

He looked quickly away, knowing that if he didn’t, he might end up telling her everything. Suddenly the air in the water closet seemed too thin. He needed to get out of there. So he could lick his wounds. So he could come to grips with his feelings.

Forcing himself to return his gaze to hers, he said, “He won’t be back, Annie. What happened tonight—it’s ended between him and me, once and for all. We’ll never see him again.”

She gave an almost imperceptible nod, her eyes filled with questions. Questions Alex couldn’t answer. Not right now. He pushed to his feet and shoved a hand through his hair.

Watching his movements, her gaze snagged on the barked knuckles of his right hand again. A stricken look came over her face, an indication that it had finally dawned on her how he might have come by the abrasions.

“That water must be getting cool by now,” he said, grabbing for any excuse he could think of to leave. “You should probably be getting out before you get the shivers again. If you can manage by yourself, I’ll go in the other room and build a fire so you can dry your hair.”

“I can manage.”

“Good. I—a fire will take the chill off the room.”

He reached behind him for the doorknob, gave it a vicious twist, and nearly tripped over his own feet getting out of there.

Twenty-one

As Alex closed the door of the water closet, a rush of air swept across Annie’s damp skin, raising goose bumps on her upper arms and shoulders. His soap and shaving paraphernalia sat on the washstand beside her, and the scent surrounded her, a common enough blend of bay rum, bergamot, and masculine cologne, but one that she had come to associate only with him.

Alex. He was troubled about seeing his brother tonight.

Deeply troubled. And because he was, she knew he needed her now in a way he never had. If she truly cared about him, she would get out of the tub, towel herself dry, throw on her nightgown, and go to him.

And then what? When he turned to her, when he drew her into his arms, what if he wanted more from her by way of comfort than she was prepared to give? He had already made it clear to her on a number of occasions that he wanted to be physically close with her. In his present frame of mind, he might press her to accommodate him.

An awful, slithery feeling attacked Annie’s stomach at the thought, and she shivered with dread. After seeing Douglas such a short while ago, the memories of what he had done to her were impossible to hold at bay. Like images from her nightmares, they rushed at her from the darkest corners of her mind. The pain, that awful sense of helplessness, and the shame. Hot tears stung her eyes.

To walk into the other room, knowing in advance that Alex might try to do those things to her? She wasn’t sure she could go through with it. Or if she even wanted to. She loved him, yes. And she wanted to be his friend. But there were limits, to save her sanity, if nothing else.

Limits... It seemed such a selfish word. Annie sank her teeth into her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes closed. From the beginning, Alex had given her everything he could, holding nothing of himself in reserve and demanding nothing in return.

How could she, in good conscience, hold back a part of herself from him?

Alex... dancing the waltz with her in the attic, tempting her with music from his flute, giving her the organ, teaching her how to speak in sign. When Annie thought back over the last few months, she realized, not for the first time, that their relationship had always been onesided, with him doing all the giving, she all the taking. At some point, that had to change, and it would be up to her to see that it did. Alex might express his desire to be close with her physically, he might even press her to that end, but he would never force her.

Pushing to her feet, she watched the water stream from her body into the tub. The soppy towel slipped from her fingers and fell with a splash. Silence. No trickling sound of water. No wet plop. Just an awful nothingness that had been the ruling force in her life for so long that, until meeting Alex, she had grown to expect nothing beyond it. Hour after hour, day after day, year after year of silence and loneliness. Knowing Alex had changed all that.

With a sad smile, Annie recalled how bitter she had once felt at having been cheated out of getting any wedding gifts. How mistaken she had been. Alex had come into her life bearing so many gifts she’d long since lost count, each wrapped in a wealth of love. No pretty paper. No fancy ribbons. The things he had given to her couldn’t be placed in a box. But they were no less wonderful for all of that. How could she deny such a man anything?

She stared hard at the closed door. Then, not allowing herself to think past the moment, she reached for a dry towel to wrap her damp hair. All too soon—at least it seemed so to her—she had redonned her nightgown and fastened every button. With a trembling hand, she grasped the doorknob, gave it a decisive turn, and drew the door open.

At first glance, the room beyond seemed dark, but then her eyes grew accustomed to the dimness. As she exited the water closet, her silhouette, cast by the lamp behind her, danced eerily over the floor and walls, the disrupted light shifting and reflecting off the highly polished mahogany of the armoire and dresser. Earlier Annie hadn’t taken time to look closely at the bedchamber. Now she saw that, like the man who inhabited it, the room was almost stark in its simplicity, the furniture straight and sturdy, the draperies and bed hangings unpretentious. In the poor light, she couldn’t be sure, but the walls looked cream-colored, as did the draperies, reminding her of the silk shirts Alex wore. Indeed, bathed in firelight as it was, the entire room seemed a mirror image of him, solid and comfortable, painted in shades of burnished darkness and tawny gold.

He stood before the fireplace, one arm braced on the mantel, head bent, a booted foot resting on a small pile of extra logs at one end of the stone hearth. Her gaze settled on his shoulders and the breadth of his back, where his shirt, stretched taut by the lift of his arm, molded like a second skin to the muscle that roped his torso. Studying him, she recalled his strength and the ease with which he could overpower her. But even as those memories slithered into her mind, she also recalled his gentleness, the many times he had touched her with a caress so light it made her breath catch.

Like a moth attracted to flame, she moved toward him, her heart bumping hard against her ribs. With each step she took, a little voice whispered inside her head, “Once there, you can’t turn back. Once there, you can’t turn back.” But her decision was made. And now that she’d made it, she wondered why it had taken her so long. Some things were destined to be, and she instinctively knew that having this man in her life was one of them.

He glanced up when she reached him. As she had so many times before, Annie looked into his eyes and thought of Christmas toffee still warm from the pan. His eyes were a rich, golden brown, so deep and clear she could get lost in them.

Like the candy she loved so well, they beckoned irresistibly to her, tempting her, filling her with a yearning that she had, until now, been afraid to acknowledge. She came to a halt several steps shy of him, knowing even as she did that a mere arm’s length between them would not be enough to save her, not necessarily from him, but from herself.

His eyes ... Tonight there was something more than warmth reflected in those amber depths, an awful, bone-deep sadness.

It drew her a step closer to him, held her fast. She touched his shirt sleeve with quivering fingertips, her heart aching for him.

Shifting his arm on the mantel, he turned more fully toward her. His shirt hung open to reveal his furry chest and hard belly, the well-padded planes defined by firelight and shadow. His skin gleamed as if he’d been dipped in bronze. Annie wanted to touch him to see what he felt like, but to do so would be tantamount to leaping off a cliff, and she was a little too wary of the consequences to initiate familiarity so quickly.

Alex had no such problem. As he studied her, his firm mouth lifted slightly at one corner, and he reached out to run the backs of his knuckles along her cheek. In that moment, it seemed to Annie that the air between them became so electrified that the friction of his skin against hers produced static. As he trailed his knuckles lightly to her neck, she gulped for breath as though she had just surfaced from under water.

His smile deepened and his eyes took on a knowing twinkle.

“You look like a condemned Christian about to face the lions.”

Annie frowned slightly, not entirely certain what he meant.

“Christians were once sentenced to death for their religious convictions,” he explained. “Right now, you have the look of a little martyr who’s afraid she’s about to be devoured.” He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Determined to sacrifice yourself for a cause, Annie, love? Why do I have the feeling I’m it?”

Embarrassed to be so easily read, she lowered her gaze.

When she glanced back up, his smile had vanished and the muscles in his face had drawn taut. He regarded her for several seconds—endless seconds for Annie. “You’re trembling again, and I know damned well it isn’t with cold.”

Annie couldn’t deny the obvious. She was trembling, and it wasn’t because she was cold. She was nervous, horribly nervous. And more than a little afraid. Though she knew Alex would never hurt her on purpose, that wasn’t much comfort when she recalled how bad the pain had been with Douglas.

Her mouth suddenly felt as dry as sun-parched grass. “You asked me to think about—” Whatever else she meant to say fled her mind. How did one refer to such an act? Alex had called it a “special closeness” and “making love,” but those terms seemed too embarrassingly explicit to repeat. “I’ve thought about it,” she finished lamely, praying he would understand what “it” meant. “Remember? This afternoon, you asked me to think about it?”

His hand still at her throat, he began to make light, circular motions with the leathery pads of his fingers directly beneath her ear. Her skin there was so sensitive that every drag of his fingertips set her nerve endings afire. She gulped, realizing too late that his thumb was pressed gently over her larynx.

“And because you know I’m feeling sad, you’ve decided to grant me my request,” he finished for her.

Annie started to shake her head, but he forestalled her by grasping her chin. His gaze held hers in a grip that was just as relentless as that of his hand. “If nothing else, Annie, let’s keep this honest. If you start coloring the truth to save my feelings and I start doing the same to save yours, the first thing we know, we’ll have a mountain of white lies looming between us.”

“But I want—”

He cut her off yet again, this time by touching a finger to her lips. “No, Annie, you don’t want. That’s the unvarnished truth.” In the firelight, his eyes, usually so clear, turned cloudy, the color reminding her of matte gold. “Given what happened to you, I don’t expect you to want any part of a physical joining. This afternoon, I asked you to consider the possibility and to trust me enough to allow me a chance to show you how wonderful it can be between us. That’s all. Just a chance. It was never my expectation that you would come to me burning with need or wanting any part of it.”

As though he found that thought mildly amusing, he continued to regard her, his mouth quirking slightly at one comer.

“Well, I’ve thought about it!” she told him, feeling a little put out because he seemed to be laughing at her expense. “And I have decided to give you a chance to show me.”

“Why?”

“Well, because...” She licked her lips and fixed her gaze on the hollow at the base of his throat. “Because I—’’ She broke off and returned her eyes to his.

“Because you know I’m very upset?” he finished for her.

“And because you feel obligated?” He shook his head.

“You’ve made the right decision, Annie, love, but for all the wrong reasons.” With another smile that didn’t quite touch his eyes, he reached to draw the towel from her head. “I think I’ll wait until you come to me for all the right ones. For now, let’s get that hair of yours dried before you take a chill.” He motioned for her to sit on the rug before the hearth, then left her to get his hairbrush off the dresser. As he walked back toward her, he said, “Don’t frown. It’ll give you wrinkles.”

Annie couldn’t help but frown. As perverse as she knew it was, she felt irritated and a little bit hurt. For all the wrong reasons, he said. And just what reasons would he deem the right ones? She loved him and cared about him. Tonight he felt sad, and she wanted to make him feel better. What better reasons could she have?

Resting a hand on her shoulder, he pressed her down onto the rug and then sat beside her, one long leg tucked beneath him, his other knee raised. The position was so blatantly masculine and he had assumed it with such ease that she felt awkward in comparison. The hem of her nightgown got caught under one foot, which caused an uncomfortable tightness across the shoulders. She spent a moment trying to untangle herself. When she finally got comfortable and looked back up, Alex set himself to the task of brushing her hair.

Expecting him to hit snags and bring tears to her eyes as her mother had always done, Annie was tense at first. But his gentleness soon soothed the rigidity from her neck and shoulders.

Long, slow strokes. Big, slightly callused hands. Warmth from both him and the fire. Her eyelashes drifted low, and her body, loose with relaxation, moved with the pull of the bristles.

As the damp ends of her hair began to dry, he lifted the brush with each stroke, separating the strands and letting them fall slowly back around her shoulders. Annie gazed at the firelight through an ever shifting veil of sable, feeling oddly drowsy and separate from reality.

When at last he set the brush aside, she felt so lazy she didn’t want to move. A log in the fire rolled forward, sending up a spray of sparks. She could almost hear the snap of the pitch and the crackling of the flames. Bracing his weight on one hand, he smoothed her hair from her face, his eyes searching hers. Annie sensed that there was something he wanted—no, needed—to say. It was there in the tautness of his features, in the firm set of his mouth, in the slightly pleated frown on his forehead. “What is it?” she finally asked. His gaze skittered from hers. For several seconds, he stared into the fire, the sharp definition of his face catching the amber light, the crevices etched with shadows. Several different times, his mouth tightened and he swallowed, as if he were on the verge of speaking. But in the end, he remained silent.

Annie leaned forward to rest her hand over his. At the touch, he squeezed his eyes closed. “I need—” His throat worked as though the words were snagging on his larynx. “About tonight—Douglas and everything—I need to explain. I don’t want you to think that I’d ever choose him over you, and I know that’s how it must have seemed to you tonight.”

A hundred times, at least, he had caught her chin to make her look at him. Now Annie did the same to him. At her touch, he opened his eyes, apparently startled. His gaze, darkened with emotions she couldn’t quite define, met hers and delved deeply.

“You love him,” she said. “Just because he does bad things, that doesn’t mean you can stop caring about him. I understand that.”

“He doesn’t deserve my affection, not in any measure.”

“Neither does my papa, but I still love him.”

That got his attention. As she finished speaking, he dragged his gaze to hers, his expression slightly bewildered, as if he’d registered the words but couldn’t quite make sense of them. “I don’t know why, but I always assumed you loved your father because you didn’t know any better.”

Annie hugged her knees and smiled, more amused by his admission than disgruntled. “I’m deaf, not stupid.”

His response was a smile. There was no mistaking the admiration that gleamed in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re finally beginning to realize that.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“Trust you to notice.”

“You were going to explain. About Douglas and what happened tonight.”

“I just wanted to assure you that, no matter how it may have looked, I will never put him before you. Not for any reason.

For tonight, I think that’s enough on the subject. As upset as you were at seeing him, I can’t think a discussion about him would be good for you or the baby right now.”

“The baby and I are perfectly fine. You‘re upset. I want to help. Is that so wrong?”

“No, of course not.”

“Well, then? I offered to be”‘—she broke off and gestured vaguely—” close with you, and you didn’t feel my reasons were sound. Now you’re refusing to talk about what’s troubling you. How can I help if you won’t let me?”

He smiled lazily. “Uncooperative, am I?”

“Very.”

“I apologize.” He seemed to consider the accusation. Then his smile deepened. “I guess I am being difficult, aren’t I?”

She nodded.

“What it boils down to is a choice between being close and talking. Correct?’’ He arched a tawny eyebrow at her. “Faced with that ultimatum, I choose the first.”

A frown pleated Annie’s forehead. “Pardon?”

“The first,” he repeated. “I don’t feel like talking about my brother. That leaves being close, which is something I always feel like doing. No problem there.”

Annie narrowed an eye at him again. At her expression, his shoulders jerked with a laugh and his eyes took on a mischievous twinkle. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe your enthusiasm is waning. I thought you wanted to make me feel better. Trust me, Annie, being close will do it.”

“Coward.”

He draped an arm over his upraised knee. “In this instance, I believe the term applies to both of us. Maybe we should hold hands and face our dragons together, hmm?”

Annie grasped his dangling hand. “You first.”

He threw back his head and laughed. Somehow, she knew the sound was rich and deep, the kind of laugh that would have warmed her clear through had she been able to hear it. As his mirth subsided, he turned his hand to curl his fingers around hers. “Me first, huh? You’re priceless, Annie, girl. Two hours ago, I felt as if someone had sliced my insides to pieces with a knife, and now you have me laughing.”

“I didn’t mean it to be funny.”

He grew suddenly sober. “No, I don’t believe you did.”

After studying her for a moment, he said, “You’re actually serious, aren’t you? If I take you up on it, you’re prepared to let me make love to you.”

“Not prepared, exactly, but ready.”

He tightened his hand around hers. “That means a lot to me.

That you trust me enough to take a chance like that. It means more than I can say.”

Annie’s throat felt achy and tight. “I wish you trusted me half as much.”

He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. “Oh, Annie. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that—well, you have no idea what you’re asking.” He raised his lashes to regard her.

“Talking. It sounds so simple. But it isn’t. My feelings about Douglas are anything but simple, and they stem, in part, from something that happened years ago.”

“What?”

A muscle along his jaw bunched, and his grip on her hand tightened until it was almost painful. “I killed our parents. My father and Douglas’s mother, Alicia. I killed them. It was my fault Douglas was left an orphan at only six. All my fault.”

Of all the things Annie had expected him to say, that wasn’t it. She stared at him in stunned disbelief, convinced she must have misread his words. The stricken expression on his face told her otherwise. “Oh, Alex.. .”

His grip on her hand grew more bruising. “I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident. But in the end, they were both just as dead as if I’d put a gun to their heads and pulled the trigger.

The guilt I felt—” He took a deep breath and exhaled through pursed lips. “Jesus. It never turned loose of me. I’ve spent the last fourteen years trying to make it up to Douglas, and now, looking back on it, I think I did him more harm than good.”

Annie didn’t try to draw her hand from his. Despite the pain of his grip, she was afraid to move for fear she’d distract him, stop him from talking. As though the dam had finally burst, the ugliness was pouring from him. He scarcely paused between sentences to draw breath as he told her about the accident that had killed his father and stepmother.

“I was, um ... about sixteen when it happened. I had just started college that year up in Portland, and I’d come home for the summer to work for my father at the rock quarry.” He fell silent for a bit, his gaze growing distant with memories. “Boys that age—well, I was feeling pretty full of myself that summer.

It was heady stuff, coming home from college, working alongside grown men, having my father ask me my opinion about business matters.” He smiled slightly and shook his head. “It was the first time he’d ever really treated me like an adult. I was part of everything. On a work crew. Helping fill orders. I wanted to prove myself. You understand? I saw everything as some sort of test, pass or fail, the cumulative score a measure of my manhood.”

Annie had no idea what “cumulative” meant, but she got his gist and nodded, wishing with all her heart that his smile would reach his eyes. But all she saw in those amber depths was pain. An awful pain that had been with him far too long.

“Toward the last part of June,” he went on, “everybody was getting excited about the approach of Independence Day and the celebration they were going to have in town. Up at the quarry, we had access to explosives of all types, and some of the men started experimenting, their original intent to create their own firecrackers.” At her puzzled look, he quickly explained what a firecracker was, describing the loud blast one made. “Anyway, one thing led to another, and men being men, they started playing pranks. One day when I was in the privy, my father lit a homemade firecracker and tossed it in the door.

It went off right at my feet and scared the—’’

His face turned a dull red, and he chuckled. Envisioning what must have happened, Annie couldn’t help but smile as well. It had been a long while since a loud noise had startled her, but she could still recall the feeling.

“Let’s just say it scared the orneriness right out of me,” he said. “After that, all I could think about was playing a prank on my father to pay him back, doing him one better if possible.”

His smile faded abruptly and the sadness returned to his eyes.

“A few days after the outhouse incident, one of the men who worked for my father got creative with black powder and made this tiny explosive, enclosed in a minuscule wad of paper. After setting off a few of them, he made another and stuck it in the end of a fellow worker’s cigar. Later, when the man lit his smoke, he only took a few puffs before it blew up in his face. I thought it was hilariously funny, and since my father smoked cigars, I decided to load one of his with explosive. It was harmless. No injury would come of it. All I intended was to give him a good scare.”

Annie’s throat went tight at the haunted expression that crossed his face.

“Since I wanted to catch him totally by surprise, I waited until I got home and loaded one of the cigars in his study. I figured he’d be doing his books some evening, and bang would go his cigar, right?” He looked into her eyes, not moving or speaking. “That wasn’t how it happened. He received a new order of cigars and put them in his cigar box.

Not realizing that he rotated his stock, putting his fresh cigars under the older ones, I figured the one I had tampered with was probably clear at the bottom of the box. Days went by, and like a kid, I forgot all about the prank. One evening, my father and Alicia were invited to the home of a friend. My father had the buggy brought around. They got in. Douglas and I were standing on the porch to wave them off.”

The muscles along each side of his throat grew distended.

Annie guessed what he was about to tell her, and she wanted nothing more than to hold him in her arms to ease his pain.

Only if she did that, she wouldn’t be able to read his lips, so she had to be content with holding his hand.

“Just before he reached for the reins, my father lit a cigar.

He took a long drag. There was a loud bang and the horses bolted. When it was all over, he and my stepmother were both dead.” Turning loose of her, he turned his hands and stared at his palms as if he might find answers there. “I killed them.”

She put her hands over his, gripping tightly. “It was an accident.”

He shook his head. “Accidents can’t be helped. That could have been. If I hadn’t been so stupid, so thoughtless, it never would have happened.”

“You didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“They were still just as dead.” He stared into the fire for a long while. When he finally looked back at her, there were shutters over his eyes, as though he’d closed his feelings away inside himself. “I didn’t tell you to make you feel sorry for me, Annie. I just hoped—well, that it might be easier for you to understand. About Douglas. About my giving him money tonight. I wanted to send him packing. Honestly I did. But I couldn’t.” He shook his head. “That’s the story of my life, never being able to tell him no. Out of guilt. Maybe if I hadn’t spoiled him so, he’d have turned out better.”

Annie pressed her lips to his knuckles and closed her eyes, wishing with all her heart she could turn back time for him and make everything better. When she looked at him again, she saw that his eyes held a distant expression, and she knew he was far away from her, remembering.

“From the day of our parents’ deaths, all I could think to do was try to make it up to Douglas. He was a frightened little boy—an orphan—and it was my fault. I could never forget that or forgive myself. Later, when he got older and his pranks became more serious, I blamed myself because our father wasn’t around to discipline him and set an example for him.

So I tried to make up for that as well. Anything he wanted, he got. Anything he wanted to do, I allowed. If he got into trouble, I bailed him out. In short, I killed his parents, and then I ruined him. Douglas is what he is today because his every whim has been gratified for most of his life.”

Unable to bear seeing him this way, Annie caught his face between her hands. “No!” she cried. “Blame yourself for what happened to your parents, if you must, but not for the way Douglas is. Being spoiled doesn’t make people mean. Not the way he is.”

“I blame myself because he hurt you,” he admitted. “By then, I was beginning to suspect how vicious he could get, especially when he drank, but I refused to face it. If I had, I might have prevented what happened up at the falls that day.”

Since words weren’t seeming to reach him, Annie looped her arms around his neck. He caught her close, his embrace almost painful, he held her so tight. She felt his chest vibrate against hers. She knew without seeing his lips that he was saying, “I’m sorry.” Over and over again. She didn’t want him to do this to himself. What Douglas had done—what had happened to her—none of that could be laid at his door.

Because she could feel that he was still talking, she drew back and took his face between her hands so she might see.

Tears, shot through with gold by the firelight, trailed over his cheeks.

“Every time I think about him hurting you, I feel sick,” he told her. “Just the thought of him putting his filthy hands on you makes me want—”

Annie couldn’t bear to let him finish. Without weighing the possible consequences, she covered his mouth with hers and kissed him with a ferocity that startled her nearly as much as it seemed to startle him. Whatever else he meant to say spilled with his breath into her mouth. He tasted warm and sweet. His lips beneath hers felt like wet silk. Remembering how he had kissed her that day in the nursery, she touched the tip of her tongue to his. She didn’t need ears to know that he groaned. It erupted from him, raw and ragged, with such force that it vibrated clear through her. Running a hand up her back, he made a tight fist in her unbound hair. With the force of his grip, he tipped her head slightly and resettled his mouth over hers.

Annie knew control had changed from her hands to his the instant he deepened the kiss. The sudden hardness of his body unnerved her. Beneath her hands, she felt the flesh over his shoulders bunch into steely knots. The muscles in his arms had tensed as well, their circle forming an unbreakable band around her. Steel and fire, need and urgency, possessiveness and determination, all were evidenced by the changes that came over him.

His mouth ground against hers, and suddenly his hands seemed to be everywhere. His touch was feverish, bold. There was nothing gentle about it. Annie had the terrifying feeling that he was no longer even aware of her as a person, that in a twinkling, she had become naught but a body to him. A body he meant to possess.

This was not the Alex she knew. A stranger had taken his place.

Twenty-two

Alex had unbuttoned his wife’s nightgown and was groping for the hem when he came to his senses enough to realize exactly what he was doing and with whom he was doing it.

Annie. He dragged his mouth from hers. His brain feverish with passion, his thoughts in a jumble, he blinked and glanced around. Measure by measure, reality returned to him. On the floor? Jesus Christ. When he saw what he had nearly done, a chill as jolting as a dash of ice water washed over him.

Hauling in a ragged breath, he groped almost frantically for his self-control, which at the moment seemed as elusive as the sparkles in dust motes. Need. It burned in his guts like a hot coal. In his temples, his pulse went swi-swish, swi-swish, each thrum sending a knifelike pain behind his eyes. Annie. He blinked and tried to bring her small face into sharper focus, to concentrate on her and only her, a sweet, frightened, and very pregnant girl who not only deserved but needed gentle handling.

Somehow he had pulled her across his lap. His upraised knee formed a support for her back. His arm around her swollen middle was the anchor that held her fast. Glancing down, he saw that he’d jerked her gown up to her knees, that he’d been perilously close to fondling forbidden treasures. He swallowed and lifted a trembling hand to her rumpled hair.

Beneath his fingertips, the strands felt like sun-warmed silk.

Her eyes, wide and wary, jerked from his hand to his face. She clearly feared what he might do next. Alex couldn’t blame her.

In another two seconds, he would have had her on her back and been driving it home.

“Annie,” he said in a throbbing whisper, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you, sweetheart. It’s just that—” He broke off, uncertain what to say, whether he should be brutally honest or lie to keep from frightening her even more. In the end, he decided on honesty. This girl had been held apart from reality for too many years already. “I want you very badly. I’ve been wanting you for weeks. When a man is around a woman for such a long period of time, as I have been you, and can never...” His voice trailed away. “I’m sorry. The wanting got away with me there for a minute, that’s all, and I nearly lost control.”

Alex almost made her a promise that he wouldn’t let it happen again but checked himself. The truth was that he might.

She was one sweet armful. Everything about her tempted him, from the translucent pinkness of her small toenails to the glistening moisture on her full bottom lip. He’d never wanted a woman so badly.

Slowly—a little too slowly to suit him—the fear left her beautiful eyes. Alex smiled at her, feeling more than a little relieved when she smiled back. She still looked uncertain and a little shaken, but she seemed willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Thank God.

Feeling like a lowdown skunk, he cupped his hand over her cheek, his gaze holding hers. “That was, without question, the sweetest kiss I’ve ever gotten. I’m sorry I went after you like I did. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

A little hesitantly, she finally shook her head. He could see that she was trembling, and this time he couldn’t blame it on Douglas. Rubbing his thumb over her mouth, he whispered, “I know I don’t deserve it, but will you give me one more chance? To do it right this time?’’

Her eyes went dark, with fear or uncertainty, he wasn’t sure which. He held his breath, waiting for her answer. When she gave an almost imperceptible nod, he nearly whooped with relief, which wouldn’t have been at all the thing, considering her lack of enthusiasm for this undertaking. “Thank you.”

He made another pass with his thumb over her precious mouth. His guts knotted when he saw that her bottom lip looked slightly swollen. Though he had no clear recollection of having done so, he knew he must have ground his mouth against hers. What a prince he was. With one bit of encouragement, he’d gone after her like a bear for honey.

He had some fences to mend, no question about it. He instinctively knew it wouldn’t be wise to leave the task for later. Given too much time to contemplate his behavior, she’d very likely grow even more frightened at the prospect of making love. If there was anything he didn’t need right now, it was another hurdle to jump.

Very gently, he moved his hand from her cheek to her neck, running his fingertips around to her nape. Pressing the pad of his thumb against the underside of her fragile jaw, he lifted her face. Angling his head, he touched his mouth lightly to hers.

For an instant, she stiffened, but when he didn’t increase the pressure or drag her back into his arms, she finally began to relax.

Doing it right. It wasn’t as simple as it sounded. He wanted her. God, how he wanted her. With a feverish urgency. There was nothing gentle about his need or anything gentlemanly about the thoughts that kept sweeping through his head.

Kissing her breasts until she was mind less. Tasting the honeyed wetness nestled between her silken thighs. Driving his shaft into her slick, hot channel. Nibbling lightly at her mouth when he really wanted to devour every inch of her was not the easiest thing he’d ever done.

The end result was ample reward for the effort, however.

The tenseness slowly eased from her body, and like a child seeking warmth, she pressed against him. Alex steeled himself against the urge to take advantage of her acquiescence. Not yet, he cautioned himself. He had to gain ground inch by inch, not by leaps and bounds. Otherwise, he’d frighten her again. If he did that, he wouldn’t achieve his ultimate goal, which was to make love to her. Not tomorrow. Not next week. But tonight.

And so he kissed her. Slowly. Gently. As if that were all in the world he wanted to do. One minute .. . two ... Kisses so whisper-soft he scarcely felt them. Like the silken brush of butterfly wings. When she finally looped her arms around his neck, he pressed his face against her hair for a moment, inhaling the scent of her, smiling tenderly at the trusting way she molded herself against him. Very carefully, he looped an arm around her waist, and splayed a hand over her side, slowly tightening his hold. Her spine gave way to his arm, and her head fell back slightly. Alex kissed the hollow of her throat, taking measure of her pulse with the tip of his tongue. Fast, irregular. He smiled again, savoring this one small taste of her, his mind leaping ahead to other places he hoped to kiss.

Moving back so she could see him, he said, “I don’t want you to get chilled, honey. Let me put some wood on the fire.”

Her expression still a little guarded, she blinked as he set her off his lap. He pushed quickly to his feet and added logs onto the grate, nudging them with his boot to position them. Sparks shot up the flue. Then the flames caught on the wood. Alex rubbed his hands clean on his trousers as he turned back to his wife, who knelt on the rug, looking a little too innocent for his peace of mind. Gilded by firelight, in the flowing white gown, with her hair like a cloud around her shoulders, she might have been a religious painting. Or an angel. Sweet, so impossibly sweet. He felt as though he were about to defile something sacred, not a good feeling to have when his conscience was at war with pent-up passion. Whether she was angelic or not, he meant to have her, the devil take his scruples.

He held out a hand to her. “Come here, Annie, love.”

As though she sensed his intent, she searched his gaze. Alex bent slightly and grasped her by the upper arms, taking the choice away from her by pulling her to her feet.

“I don’t want you to get cold,” he said as he drew her closer to the fire.

Blue eyes, shot through with gold from the firelight...

Looking into them, Alex accepted that she had every reason to be wary. Given his behavior a few minutes past, he was fortunate she wasn’t panicky. She had given him her trust, which he knew hadn’t come easily, and he’d nearly broken it.

Now, though he was far from deserving, she was willing to trust him yet again.

When he contemplated that, Alex found it a little overwhelming. Trust was a gift, and coming from her, priceless beyond measure. He swept his gaze slowly over her.

In his frenzy a few minutes ago, he had unbuttoned her gown, which saved him the trouble of having to do so now. With a nonchalance he was far from feeling, he unfastened one of her cuffs, tugged it off over her hand, and began working her arm out of the sleeve.

“Let’s get you out of this, shall we?”

Her pointed little elbow caught in the armhole of her gown.

He made fast work of wiggling it free. Then he turned his attention to her other sleeve. From the corner of his eye, he saw her lips moving and knew that, as much as he might wish to, he couldn’t ignore her protests. He stopped what he was doing to search her gaze.

His voice oddly thin, he said, “Sweetheart, if you’re afraid and want me to stop, all you have to do is say so.”

Alex felt fairly certain that she’d been telling him exactly that, right up until he looked into her eyes. But now she said nothing. He waited, in an agony of suspense, determined to work her arm back into her sleeve, refasten her cuff, and take it with good grace. Instead, she raised her chin a notch, took a deep breath, and squared her small shoulders. ‘‘No, don’t stop.”

Alex knew what it had cost her to say those three words. To him, making love with her was a natural culmination, but to her? “You won’t be sorry. I swear it.” Not wanting to draw out the torture for her, he quickly maneuvered her other arm out of its sleeve. “There we go-”

Reaching down, he grabbed handfuls of cotton, studiously avoiding eye contact with her as he drew the hem of her nightgown upward. At the last second, her courage deserted her. Knowing how frightened she must be, Alex was half expecting some reflexive resistance, and when she tried to foil him by grabbing handfuls of cloth, he gave a jerk, successfully breaking her hold. In one smooth motion, he drew the gown off over her head and gave it a toss.

When he turned back, his heart skipped a beat. Though she made a valiant attempt to hide herself from him with crossed arms and splayed hands, she was still a vision, naked and gilded by firelight. Swollen pink nipples peeked out at him through the parted curtains of her sable hair. Helpless to resist, he reached out and brushed the backs of his knuckles over a sensitive crest. At his touch, she jerked as if he’d stuck her with a pin.

He lowered his gaze, filled with tenderness as he observed her frantic attempts to conceal more territory than two small hands could possibly cover. By the way she tried to hug herself, he guessed she couldn’t decide what part of her was most important to hide, her protruding belly, her navel, or the tantalizing triangle of dark hair at the apex of her thighs.

In the end, she hugged one arm over her belly and clamped her other hand over her navel, a choice that stymied him. But he couldn’t quarrel with the result. No man in his right mind yearned for a glimpse of bellybutton when he had an unobstructed view of—

No suitable word came to his mind for that tantalizing thatch of sable curls. In the past, Alex, like most men, had referred to that particular part of a woman’s body with little reverence, the list of names as base as they were numerous. To even think one of those words in connection with Annie seemed a sacrilege.

He raised his gaze to her swollen waist, a perverse curiosity niggling at him as he studied the hand she held clamped over her navel. That she was bent on hiding something was blatantly obvious, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think what. One navel looked pretty much like another. Dying to know what she felt so embarrassed for him to see, he barely resisted the urge to pry her fingers away.

Given the feast of sights she was providing him with, however, he decided he could allow the poor girl one secret.

For the moment, at any rate. Later, there would be no room for secrets between them.

Even hugging herself as she was, a wealth of her skin was left bare. The color of cream, it looked luminescent in the light cast by the fire. Like shimmering silk. Or a trembling leaf...

With a start, Alex realized she was shaking. Jerking his gaze to hers, he saw in the depths of her eyes that she was perilously close to bolting. Not that he blamed her.

He was gaping at her like a damned idiot. Jesus. From the get-go, he hadn’t handled this well, and judging by her expression, things were quickly going from bad to worse.

For all his experience with women over the years, he suddenly felt like a bungling oaf. So horribly nervous. His voice a throbbing whisper, he said, “I’m sorry for—for staring at you, sweetheart. It’s just that—my God, Annie, you’re so beautiful. I can hardly take my—”

Her small face flooded with scarlet. His gaze darted to her protruding belly and her ineffectual attempt to keep it hidden with her thin arms. Stupid. So stupid! He nearly thumped himself on the forehead with the heel of his hand. The girl was in the advanced stages of pregnancy. Naturally she didn’t feel very beautiful.

Only she was. The most beautiful thing he’d ever clapped eyes on, barring none. So, tell her that, you damned fool. Alex tried to moisten his lips with a tongue that had gone as dry as beef jerky. He wasn’t much good at spouting flattery. Never had been. For some reason, he’d always felt a little silly when he tried to get poetic.

“Annie, don’t feel self-conscious about your stomach,” he started. “I think it’s—cute.”

Her big blue eyes went bright with a rush of tears. Alex couldn’t feel the rug under his feet. Christ. At least he could see his feet.

“Sweetheart, your tummy is beautiful. Honestly.”

Actually, now that he was taking its measure, he might have added that it was remarkable as well. She looked about ready to pop her seams. Beneath the hand that she held over her navel, dark hair ran in a tapering line down to her pelvis.

“Annie ...” He stepped closer. With hands that were suddenly shaky, he brushed the tears from her cheeks, wishing with all his heart that he knew what to say to her. There was no denying the fact that she was misshapen and ungainly. But that didn’t dampen his desire for her. If anything, it heightened it.

His wife, heavy with child. To him, that was a miracle beyond measure. If given half a chance, he’d worshipfully kiss every inch of her. But he wasn’t sure how to convince her of that.

It occurred to Alex that he might be going about this all wrong. Annie wasn’t stupid. She knew her feminine shape was temporarily distorted, and no pretty words were likely to convince her otherwise. It might be more fruitful if he were to make light of the situation and try to tease a smile from her. If he seemed to take her pregnancy in stride, perhaps she would relax about it as well.

Bending to plant a kiss on the end of her nose, he flashed her a slow grin. “It has just occurred to me that there seems to be something coming between us.”

Her eyes went huge. Then she blinked, spilling another rush of tears over her lashes. The next thing Alex knew, she planted a hand in the center of his chest and shoved him with surprising strength. Caught unprepared, he staggered a step.

Annie, still hugging her belly, made a dash for her discarded nightgown. Alex caught her wrist just before she reclaimed the garment.

“No, sweetheart, don’t,” he said, forcing her to straighten.

“Please?”

She tried to jerk her arm from his grasp. Taking care not to bruise her with his grip, Alex held fast. “Annie... You’re being silly about this. It isn’t as if I’ve never seen a nude pregnant woman before.” That was one of the biggest whoppers he’d ever told. “And, whether you believe me or not, I think you’re beautiful. Honestly, I do!”

Her mouth quivered. The next thing he knew, the spasm spread to her small chin. Alex nearly groaned. Releasing her wrist, he framed her face between his hands and set himself to the task of kissing her tears away. In between kisses, he drew back so she could see his mouth and whispered, “Honey, I’m sorry. Forgive me? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I think you’re beautiful. I swear it.”

She attempted to twist her face from his grasp. “I’m not beautiful. Ugly, I’m ugly.”

“Ugly? Honey, no. Pregnant women are ... special.” Alex nearly winced at that. Special? A sheer genius with words, that was he. “To me, seeing you like this is—”

“You haven’t seen my bellybutton!”

Alex traced the arch of her brows with his lips, then leaned back. “I’ll bet you have a gorgeous bellybutton.”

“It pooches!”

“It what?”

“Pooches!”

Tiny muscles had begun to jerk beneath her eyes, a sure sign to Alex that she was perilously close to weeping. She was clearly very upset about her navel, which seemed a small point to him, considering her impressive girth. “It pooches? What do you mean, it pooches?”

“It’s turned inside out!”

Convinced he’d misread her lips, he said, “I beg your pardon?’’

“Inside out!” she repeated.

Alex glanced down between their bodies. Feeling certain that, in her self-consciousness, she was exaggerating the condition, he drew her fingers away from the spot. Mouth and chin atremble, Annie stared down at the protrusion. His heart caught at the distress on her face. “Honey, it’s not that bad.”

“Ugly, ugly, ugly!”

“No! How can a bellybutton be ugly? I think it’s sort of—’’

He broke off, groping for a word. “Adorable. That is, without question, the cutest bellybutton I’ve ever clapped eyes on.”

Not stopping to think about how she might perceive the move, he gathered her close and pressed his face against her hair. He ran a hand up her silken back, learning her spine with searching fingertips, his eyes falling closed on a wave of contentment. To hold her like this, to feel her softness pressed so firmly against him, was as close to heaven as he ever hoped to get.

“Don’t cry, Annie, love.” It suddenly struck Alex that he was whispering into the ear of a deaf girl. Sheer frustration crashed over him, and he drew back again so she could see his face. Feeling a movement between them, he glanced down to see that she was pushing at her protruding navel with a fingertip, trying without success to tuck it back where it belonged. Afraid she might hurt herself, he brushed her hand aside and covered the spot with his own. Tenderness swamped him as he looked into her eyes. “Once the baby comes, your body will return to its former shape,” he assured her. “Until then, honey, trust me when I say that I think you’re beautiful.

Big tummy, inside-out bellybutton, and all.” He brushed a hand over her hair. “There’s not a single thing about you I’d change. Except maybe to see you smile.”

She fixed him with an incredulous gaze, clearly unconvinced.

“You are absolutely perfect,” he assured her.

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head again. Alex released her and stepped back. “Show me one thing about you that’s not perfect,” he challenged.

She started to hug herself again, but he forestalled her by catching her wrists and drawing her arms back down to her sides. Then, his throat aching with love for her, he made a great show of stepping around her to examine her from all angles. As he came full circle and faced her again, he rested his hands on his hips, settled his gaze on her flushed face, and said, with complete honesty, “You are, without question, the sweetest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

She placed a hand over her swollen stomach, her gaze skittering from his. Alex leaned around so they were nose to nose again. “Line up forty skinny women, give me a choice, and I’d pick you every time.”

She sniffed and swiped at her chin to catch a tear before it fell. Alex was more interested in catching another tear that had already fallen and was now making a glistening trail over her breast to her nipple.

“I mean that, Annie, love.” The dark shadows in her eyes made him wish with all his heart that he were more silver-tongued. “I want you, and only you, just the way you are right now.”

She made a small sound, low in her throat.

He held out a hand to her. “Come here, sweetheart.”

She stared down at his palm for several long seconds. Then she finally crossed it with her delicate fingers. Alex couldn’t speak, and even if he’d been able to, he doubted he could express the emotions that rolled through him. Tugging her toward him, he enfolded her in his arms. For a long while, he simply held her, instinctively knowing that she needed time to grow accustomed to the closeness, that she needed to know he wanted more from her than just the physical.

And he did ... So very much more.

When he felt her begin to relax a little, he drew back and slid up a hand to cup her breast. As his fingertips grazed her silken skin, she gave a little squeak and caught her breath. Lightly, ever so gently, he dragged his thumb over her nipple, which was still slightly damp from her tears. Her aureoles were swollen and an even deeper color of pink than he’d judged them to be earlier. He suspected they were tender and extremely sensitive as well.

Drawing her back into his arms, he hugged her close and pressed his face against the silken slope of her shoulder. In a voice that shook with emotions he couldn’t separate or define, he whispered, “Dear Lord, you are so incredibly precious.” He knew she couldn’t hear him, but for the moment, his usual feeling of frustration gave way to vague relief. He could scarcely think, holding her like this, let alone guard his every word. In making love to a deaf girl, there were advantages as well as drawbacks, he realized. “God, how I want you. It’s probably a blessing you have no idea how much.”

She nuzzled close, bringing a reluctant smile to his mouth, for he knew damned well she’d be making for the door if she could hear him. Turning his head, he traced the shape of her ear with his lips, then caught her lobe in his teeth and flicked it with his tongue. At the titillation, she gave a low moan. “Ah, you like that, do you?” He ran his mouth down the curve of her neck, nibbling lightly at her skin. “It’s a damned good thing because I’m going to love every inch of you just that way.” He closed his eyes as his mouth covered the pulsebeat at the hollow of her throat. “Ah, Annie, love ...”

When her head fell back, he pressed his mouth to hers. She made a soft, mewling sound, her sweet breath spilling against his lips. He thrust his tongue deeply into her moistness, then withdrew, emulating the rhythm of love-making, imagining how it would feel to bury himself inside her. The muscles in his thighs knotted as he slid his hands over her, glorying in her softness, in the velvety texture of her skin. Molding his cupped palms to her pliable buttocks, he drew her hips closer. At the contact, she stiffened and jerked her mouth from his.

Alex lifted his head, sliding a hand from her rump to her back to steady her and hold her, just in case she got frantic. By her expression and the flutter of pulse he saw in the hollow of her throat, he knew she was remembering that day at the falls.

He didn’t suppose he could blame her for that.

The enormity of what he was about to do struck him. One wrong move, one wrong word ... “I won’t hurt you, Annie, girl.

I promise.’’

Her frightened gaze clung to his. Alex looked into those eyes and felt as if he were drowning. He swallowed, the sound echoing through his head, testimony to his nervousness. He wanted to make this beautiful for her. He wanted to erase every bad memory from her mind and replace them with glorious ones.

Bending slightly, he caught her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. After gently lowering her to the mattress, he stripped off his shirt and kicked off his boots. She tugged at the corner of the rumpled coverlet, drawing it over her lower body. Alex smiled and braced a knee next to her hip. Settling a hand on either side of her, he leaned down to kiss her eyes closed. Then he traced her features with his lips, lightly, ever so slowly. He wanted her to feel cherished, for he did cherish her, feeling as if God had sent him an angel. She made soft, pleased little sounds and smiled.

Alex smiled as well, for he noticed that she was still clutching the coverlet for dear life over her lower body.

Against her closed eyelids, he whispered, “Make tight little fists and don’t turn loose. It’ll suit me just fine to have your hands occupied elsewhere.” He trailed his mouth along her sculpted cheekbone, down to her lips, then to her throat. “By the time I’m finished with you, you aren’t going to care where that coverlet is, I promise you that.”

Moving lower, he licked lightly at her skin, drawing closer and closer to the peak of one breast. Her aureole, swollen and throbbing with her every heartbeat, felt like velvet when he drew it into his mouth. At the first drag of his tongue, her muscles jerked, and she made fists in his hair as though to push him away. Alex realized she was even more sensitive than he’d guessed and gentled his ministrations, using light flicks of his tongue to coax her tender flesh to a pebbled hardness. When he judged her ready, he drew sharply on her.

She gasped and arched against him, her throat convulsing on shrill whimpers of need. Her breath became quick and shallow as he flicked her with his tongue.

This time, Alex didn’t mind if she gave a passionate outcry.

The door was locked, and all the servants, including Maddy, slept in another wing. She could shriek all she liked. He not only didn’t mind, but felt sure he’d find the sounds arousing.

Capturing the throbbing nubbin of flesh at the crest of her nipple between his teeth, he gave it a roll. She immediately started to pant. Shrill, desperate little panting sounds that worked on his senses like a powerful aphrodisiac. Quickly, so as not to allow her time to resurface, he switched his attention to her other breast and gave it the same treatment.

When she finally grabbed hold of his ears, he knew he had succeeded in his initial goal. She was so aroused, he doubted she could think clearly, let alone feel afraid. Then and only then did he slip a hand under the coverlet.

To Alex’s surprise, she parted her thighs, welcoming the touch of his hand. Cautiously, he sought the sweet center of her, smiling when she moaned with pleasure. Like shavings drawn to a magnet, his fingertips homed in on the patch of curls at the apex of her thighs. Gently, carefully, he parted the silken folds. White-hot. Slick with wetness. At the invasion of his touch, she bucked her hips and released her hold on his ears to raise up on her elbows. With his chest, he rode her back down to the bed. His face hovering scant inches from hers, he held her frightened gaze.

“Annie, trust me,” he whispered huskily. “Will you do that?

Just for a few minutes. Then, if you want me to stop, I will. I promise.”

Her delicate brows drew together. But in the end, she nodded her assent.

Taut with tension, Alex found her sensitive feminine flesh.

With light strokes, he teased her to arousal, watching the subtle changes in her expression. Pleasing her was his one concern. Annie came first. With him, she would always come first.

She never so much as blinked when he drew the coverlet off her. Never a man to pass up an opportunity, Alex took full

advantage of her preoccupation. Bringing his mouth into play, he launched a gentle but relentless sensual attack to take possession of her sweetness.

With the first flick of his tongue against her sensitive nerve endings, she shrieked. With the second, she groaned low in her throat. With the third, she made tight little fists in the bottom sheet, dug her heels into the mattress, and arched her hips to better accommodate him. Her shrill pants and throaty little moans were the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard.

“Oh, yes, Annie, girl,” he whispered raggedly. “Give yourself to me.”

“Aaa-aah!” She arched higher, offering him what he sought, her breathing quick and shallow. “Aaa-aah— aah!”

Alex caught her tortured flesh between his teeth and began a slow, firm rotation with his tongue. She caught handfuls of his hair and pressed upward, clearly aroused beyond thought.

Quickening his rhythm, he brought her to her first climax, marveling at how responsive and uninhibited she was.

When she finally lay spent and trembling, Alex drew away only long enough to shed his trousers. Then he positioned himself between her thighs and grasped her hips, nudging her open with the head of his shaft. She raised her lashes and gazed up at him with a dazed little smile, her eyes still dark with desire. Quickly, not giving her time to realize what he meant to do, he thrust smoothly into her.

Alex saw her eyes go wide with startlement. Then, for several seconds, he was aware of nothing but the sensation of being inside her. She was ready for him, hot and slick with desire, the walls of her womb snug around his shaft and still pulsating from orgasm. It took all his self-control not to spend himself, right then and there.

But before he could, her small face swam back into focus, and he was reminded that it was Annie’s pleasure he needed to be concerned with, not his own. Taking care not to crush her with his weight, he suspended himself on his arms and managed to flash her a slow grin, withdrawing slightly, then driving deep. She gasped and made fists in the sheet again.

Rejoicing in her response, Alex slowly picked up the pace, thrusting deeper and harder, intending to deny himself completion until he made certain she reached hers.

The tension slowly building, Alex leveled out to a rhythmic thrust, withdrawing, then driving himself deeply into her, ever aware of her expressions so he wouldn’t hurt her. He needn’t have worried. With the artless abandon that had captivated him from the beginning, Annie arched her neck, whimpered with pleasure, and wrapped her slender legs around his hips so she might undulate and intensify the impact. The need within Alex became an unbearable ache.

The best laid plans ... Despite his determination to maintain control, when she cried out and quickened around him, the need inside him exploded into a mind-numbing pleasure that was like nothing he’d ever experienced or even imagined could exist.

Annie ... Her breathless, panting little cries told Alex she was going to climax with him. Then the walls of her womb suddenly spasmed. Red flashed inside his head. Unable to see, no longer capable of thought, he surrendered to the need and plummeted into a swirl of sensation with her.

Annie... Fire and blackness. In some distant part of his mind, Alex was aware of her shrill cries of release. Then, completely drained of both energy and strength, he plummeted with her into the blackness of oblivion.

Annie drifted back to reality as though from a dream, becoming aware of her surroundings measure by measure, registering first the flicker of amber light, then the weave of the sheet beneath her, the heat of Alex’s body pressed against hers, the heat of his breath against her hair, the weight of his arm over her waist. She blinked and drifted, feeling completely at peace and happier than she could recall ever being.

Alex. She lay with her back to his chest, her bottom fitted snugly into the crook of his body, his thighs, coarse with hair, pressed firmly against the backs of hers. Taking a deep breath, she absorbed the scents of him—faint traces of soap and cologne, tangy leather, the male muskiness of his skin.

Against her shoulder blades, she felt his heart thudding, the beat strong and even. It felt absolutely right to lie there, cradled against him, her body limp, her thoughts muddled.

Alex. Just once, she wished she’d heard his name so she might imagine it now. She loved him. She loved him so much.

Heat rushed to her cheeks when she recalled the things he had done to her body. At the memories, a funny, achy, tingly feeling spread through her lower stomach. A smile curved her mouth, and she couldn’t help but wish he’d wake up and do it all again.

To that end, she rolled over to face him. In the fire glow, she thought she’d never seen anyone so beautiful. His golden hair lay in tousled waves over his forehead, the wispy ends catching the light. In sleep, his carved features looked almost boyish, his lashes casting shadows over his bronzed cheeks, his lower lip relaxed and vibrating slightly with each breath he expelled. He pillowed his head on one bent arm, its underside a shade paler from lack of sunlight, the skin there stretched tight over thick muscle and tendon. Curious, she touched his chest, teasing the coarse tufts of hair to curl around her fingertip. When she grew bored with that, she gingerly explored one of his nipples, which were small and copper brown. When she flicked one with her fingernail, it hardened slightly, but somehow she didn’t think it felt the same for him as for her.

She gave a start when she looked up and found that his golden eyes had come open. When their gazes met, he flashed a slow, lazy grin at her. “Why do I have this feeling my wife is refreshed and ready to go again?”

Annie dimpled a cheek at him and gave his nipple another flick. His grin deepened. “Is that a request that I return the favor?” he asked.

She shifted so the tips of her nipples grazed his chest. At the contact, they went instantly hard. She raised her eyebrows.

“You little minx.”

He drew his arm from over her waist to cup her breast in his hand. With a rub of his thumb, he coaxed her nipple more erect.

Then he dipped his head forward to suckle her. Annie’s eyes fell closed. The pleasure she felt was so intense, she could have lain there forever, letting him kiss her.

Alex had other ideas. After only a few kisses, he fell back against the pillow and regarded her from beneath lowered lashes, his smile mischievous. “If you want more, bring it on up here. I’m tired.”

Annie knew he wasn’t that tired. The gleam in his eyes told her differently. Feeling suddenly shy, she gazed with yearning at his mouth. Noticing her regard, his shoulders shook on a chuckle, and he grasped her by the arm to draw her to her knees.

“Come here,” he said. “I don’t bite.”

As if to belie those words, he suddenly rose up to catch her gently in his teeth. One flick of his tongue was all it took to coax Annie closer. With an arm braced on either side of his head, she lowered her breasts to give him easy access. With lazy slowness, he accommodated her until she was trembling.

She ended the torment by pulling away and covering his mouth with hers.

Catching her in his arms, he rolled with her, taking care not to crush her with his weight. Once on her back, Annie hooked her legs around his, thinking that he would make love to her again.

“Oh, no ... Not so fast, Annie, love. We have the rest of our lives, so why get in a rush?”

The rest of their lives ... Annie liked the thought of that.

Night after night in Alex’s arms. It was a promise fulfilled, definitely forty times better than what they’d done that long ago day in the nursery.

Twenty-three

The rest of their lives ...

Over the next few days, Alex thought of little else, dreaming grand dreams of the future that he and Annie could share. He saw no reason that those dreams couldn’t become a reality. In January, shortly after Christmas, their child would be born.

From that moment on, they would be a family. Whether Alex could father more children was a question that remained to be answered and one that no longer even seemed important. Boy or girl, this first child would be his heir, and that was all that had ever mattered to him.

In Alex’s mind, the child Annie carried was his as surely as if he’d planted the seed. He no longer thought about Douglas and what he’d done. Now that Annie had put it behind her, Alex found that he was able to as well. The past was forgotten.

The future awaited them like a brilliant promise.

Loving Annie. To Alex, the girl was a precious gift. Given her experience at the falls, she had turned out to be a far more responsive lover than he could have ever dreamed possible, and he found it difficult to keep his hands off her. Fortunately, the feeling seemed to be mutual. Once she got over her shyness, she initiated love-making almost as often as he did and was sometimes far more creative. When it came to sex, she seemed to have no idea that there were some things a lady simply never did. One night while working in his study, he glanced up from his paperwork to find Annie’s naked bosom hovering just inches from his nose. The next thing he knew, his papers were scattered on the floor and his wife was sprawled across his desk.

Alex soon came to realize that Annie, who had never been required to follow schedules or been dictated to by clocks, was a creature of impulse. One night during supper, directly after Maddy had served dessert, she rose from the table and advanced on him with a seductive little smile that heated Alex’s blood so quickly his ice cream was in danger of melting. “What are you up to, you little minx?” With a flick of her hand, Annie shoved his dish of ice cream aside and planted her lush derriere in its place. Her lashes sweeping low over her eyes, which had turned a dark, sultry blue, she said, “I want to be your ice cream.”

“My ice cream?” Alex repeated in bewilderment. Curling her hands over his shoulders, she leaned forward and touched the tip of her tongue to his cheek, licking his skin and pretending to savor the taste, just as he had done with his frozen dessert just moments ago.

“Jesus Christ,” he said in a ragged whisper. “Annie, sweetheart, a—”

He was about to explain to her that a proper lady would never dream of making this sort of suggestion. But then her hot little tongue found his ear, and he forgot what he meant to say. Not that he had really wanted to say it, anyway. What man in his right mind wanted his wife to be a proper lady behind closed doors? Alex knew that most husbands got stuck with prudish wives who were total bores in bed. It was his good fortune that Annie had come into their marriage with no preconceived notions of what was proper. He would be a million times a fool if he filled her head with a bunch of ridiculous social mores.

With deft fingers, Alex unfastened her bodice and made short work of unlacing her chemise. Her breasts spilled forth like plump melons tipped from a basket. Strike that, he thought, as his heated gaze settled on her nipples. They were more the delicate pink of strawberry juice mixed with cream.

While he was busy admiring her bounty, Annie was reaching behind her for his dessert dish. Alex watched in stunned amazement as she dipped a dainty fingertip into the fast-melting ice cream and then rubbed the cold sweetness on her nipple. Her pink flesh turned instantly hard and seemed to thrust toward his mouth, eager for attention. As if to demonstrate what she had in mind, she leaned forward again to lick lightly at his lips.

Alex, who had always prided himself on being a quick study, shoved up from his chair. In his recollection, he had never covered ground quite so quickly as he did that which stretched between the table and the dining room doors. After throwing the lock so no one could disturb them, he returned to accommodate his wife, who was now covering her other breast with sweetness.

Thoroughly aroused, but trying not to show it, Alex reclaimed his seat and waited to see what else she had in mind.

When she looked up, her expression was impish. Locking gazes with him, she slowly and suggestively suckled each of her fingers clean. Alex’s guts knotted with yearning, but he was enjoying the display too much to bring it to an early end.

Not just yet.

As he hoped, Annie pressed her bare breasts upon him, teasing his lips with her warm, sticky nipples until he could resist the temptation no longer and began to lick the sweetness away. Her flesh went instantly hard and pebbled. She ran her hands into his hair and arched her back to make her breasts more accessible. Alex licked and suckled the sensitive peaks, smiling at her whimpering sounds of pleasure.

Her whimpering soon grew louder. Groping behind her, he located his discarded napkin and pressed it against her mouth.

As if she realized his intent, she took it between her teeth to muffle her cries.

No longer concerned about the noise she might make, Alex was able to concentrate solely on Annie and pleasing her.

While groping for his napkin, he’d bumped his dessert dish.

He reached for it now and dipped his fingertips into the froth of melting ice cream. He repainted Annie’s nipples with the sweetness. Strawberries and cream... Never had Alex tasted anything like it. It was deliciously wicked, the sort of eroticism a man dreamed of but never experienced. But with Annie, who was blissfully ignorant of the rules, there were none to follow. She was governed only by sensation.

That had always been fine by Alex, but never more so than now. Vaguely, he heard dishes clattering as he swept them out of the way to lay his wife upon the table. Feverishly, he fumbled with her clothing. Skirts, petticoats, pantalets, garters, hose. Christ. Recalling the morn of their wedding, when she’d perched on the landing above him and displayed herself for his perusal, he wished she were wearing that simple attire again.

Now that he’d gotten a taste of how delightful ice cream and his sweet little wife tasted together, he wanted to try the blend elsewhere.

When he had peeled away enough clothing to find what he sought, Alex leaned back a moment to regard her from under passion-heavy eyelids. The folds of her femininity glistened up at him, the delicate pink reminding him once again of strawberries ... which always begged for cream.

Above the crumpled napkin, Annie’s huge blue eyes sought his. Alex smiled slowly. She had started this game. Now he meant to take it to new lengths. As he dipped his fingertips into the ice cream, she seemed to guess his intent. Evidently even Annie realized that this was carrying things a bit too far.

“Aah...”

Halfheartedly, she tried to twist away. There was nothing halfhearted about Alex’s move to stop her. After laving his fingertips, he found her hot, throbbing center with deft aim.

Her shocked little cry was muffled by the napkin as he smeared the coldness over her silken folds. Her entire body jerked when he caught the sensitive nubbin of flesh hidden there between his thumb and forefinger. Giving it a hard roll, Alex watched her eyes drift closed. She moaned low in her chest and ground her hips upward, clearly overcome.

Annie, for dessert. It was the sweetest ending to a meal that Alex had ever experienced. If, in future, she found him more appealing than the food served for supper, he would be more than happy to make himself available. It was the least a husband could do for his sweet, biddable, insatiable little wife.

Annie ... For such a small woman, she had a very large presence in Alex’s life, filling his days with laughter, his nights with lovemaking, and his sleep with dreams of her.

Around the middle of December, Dr. Muir paid a visit, supposedly to see Annie, but in truth to speak privately with Alex. Afraid that Annie might become upset during the medical examination, which was, by necessity, more invasive than the one Muir had done during the early months of her pregnancy, Alex remained with his wife while the doctor was with her. Afterward, both men retired to the study to have a brandy and discuss the doctor’s findings.

Coming right to the point, Muir said, “Everything looks normal, Alex, so stop looking so worried.”

Alex smiled as he handed the good doctor a drink. Taking the chair catty-corner to him, he said, “Am I so obvious?”

“You’ve become very fond of her. That’s apparent.”

Alex rested a booted foot on his knee. “I am that.”

“And the lessons? How are those coming?”

“Very well. She’s mastered a goodly number of signs and knows her alphabet now. As of last week, we graduated to a first-year primer.”

Muir raised his glass. “Congratulations. That’s quite a feat.”

Alex lowered his foot to the floor and leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees. “I think so. To be honest, I was hoping the ear horns might be more of a help than they’re proving to be. Even though, with the horns, she seems able to hear me if I speak loudly, she can’t seem to reproduce the sounds correctly.

The few words she has actually tried to say are grossly distorted.”

Daniel nodded. “That’s probably to be expected. She lost her hearing at six. It’s been fourteen years since she’s been allowed to speak. She’s forgotten how. With a hearing disability, it’s bound to take time for her to relearn all she’s forgotten.”

Alex sighed. “So I keep reminding myself.” He shrugged and smiled. “Now that I can lip-read, we manage to communicate well enough.”

“What about when the child comes? It would be nice if Annie were to master at least a small vocabulary before it begins learning to talk.”

Alex considered that for a moment. “We’ll just have to see how she progresses.”

Daniel tapped his finger against his glass, eyeing Alex over its rim. “I know you want what’s best for Annie and the child.”

“Of course I do.”

“I was just wondering if you’d considered sending her away to school.”

“School?”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “She needs special instruction, Alex. I know you’re doing wonders. I take nothing away from you. But to truly recover her speech, Annie should have specialized tutors, people who know how to help her. The school in Albany is reputable. Irene Small, the headmistress, is a fantastic instructor, and in addition to addressing her pupils’

educational needs, she sees to it they’re enriched culturally and socially. It would be very good for Annie to go there, at least for two or three years. That isn’t so long a time. She’d still be a young woman when she finished her instruction. And just think how much the experience would benefit her.”

Alex’s heart felt as if it had fallen to the floor. “Two or three years?”

Daniel smiled. “Albany isn’t that far away. You look as though I just suggested we send her to a foreign country.” He, too, sat forward in his chair, his gaze direct and filled with concern. “Alex, please, at least think about it. I think I could convince Irene to make room for Annie. Since Annie will have a child, she could be a nonresident student. Maybe Maddy could move to Albany with her. The two of them could rent a small house near the school. Somewhere close enough that Annie could walk to classes.”

Alex shot up from his chair, spilling brandy in his agitation.

“No. It’s out of the question. We’re discussing my wife here.

I’m not going to send her away for two to three years.’’ He raked a hand through his hair and started to pace. “Jesus Christ, Daniel, I don’t know how you can even suggest such a thing. If you think Annie needs a special tutor, I’ll hire one. But she’s staying here at Montgomery Hall where she belongs, end of discussion.”

Daniel set his drink aside and pushed to his feet, retrieving his bag as he stood. “Alex, with all your money and good intentions, you can’t buy Annie the things she needs most. Up there in Albany, the students produce their own plays. They have dances and socials and musicals, all geared expressly for the deaf. Annie would be around other people like herself for the first time in her life. There’s no way you can provide all of those experiences for her here.”

Alex turned a fiery gaze on him. “Maybe not. But you’re asking me to send my wife and child away. I can’t do that. I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Right for who, you or Annie? Think about it, Alex.” Daniel strode slowly to the study door. He paused before opening it to look back at Alex over his shoulder. “If you truly love the girl, and I believe you do, then in the end, you’ll do what’s best for her. I’m convinced of that. As I said, I believe I can convince Irene to take her. If you’d like, I’ll check into it for you. I think Annie could start instruction in March. She will be sufficiently recovered from childbirth by that time to travel and make the move.”

Struggling to regain his composure, Alex finally replied, “I guess it couldn’t hurt for you to look into it for me. As long as you understand that it’s highly unlikely I’d seriously consider it.”

Daniel smiled slightly. “You’ll do the right thing. You always do.’’

With that, Daniel quit the room.

Over the next few days, Alex considered what Daniel had said. So great was his indecision that he even consulted Edie Trimble, who agreed wholeheartedly with Dr. Muir that sending Annie away to school was a wonderful idea. No matter how he circled it, deep down he knew his mother-in-law and the physician were probably right. At a school for the deaf, a whole new world would be opened up for Annie. She‘d learn not only to speak, but to read and write, things Alex wasn’t absolutely sure he could teach her. And in addition to that, she would have a chance to be around other people like herself. In Albany, she could make friends, something that had always been denied her.

Dances ... parties ... plays ... In short, a social life. That was something Alex could not buy for her. If he kept her here with him at Montgomery Hall, he would be cheating her out of those experiences.

For a short time, Alex considered hiring a competent foreman to oversee Montgomery Hall so he might move to Albany and be with Annie while she attended school. But, after he really thought about it, he knew that would be almost as selfish as keeping her in Hooperville. If he were there in Albany, always backstage, always waiting, she wouldn’t feel free to participate in all the social activities she would enjoy otherwise. As much as he wanted to be with her, he didn’t want to be a proverbial chain around her neck, either. Other people were allowed to experience life to its fullest before being tied down in marriage. Annie deserved the same privilege.

Two or three years... As Daniel said, it wasn’t that long a time. If all went well, Annie would only be twenty-three when she completed her schooling and came back to live permanently at Montgomery Hall. In the meanwhile, Alex could visit her in Albany occasionally, and she could come home during holidays. He could live with that. He had to.

For Annie’s sake, he had no choice.

Once his decision was made, Alex wasted no time in speaking to Maddy. The housekeeper, though initially against the idea, eventually agreed to accompany Annie to Albany so she could help care for the baby while Annie was attending school. Once that was settled, Alex began corresponding regularly with Irene Small to ensure Annie’s enrollment, to secure off-campus housing for her, and to pay her tuition in advance. After doing all that, only one thing remained to be done, and that was to tell Annie. Alex decided it would be best not to risk upsetting her with the news until after the baby was born.

Over the next few weeks, Alex cherished every moment with her, for he knew their time together was destined to end all too soon. Long walks in the rain. Making love by firelight.

Planning for the baby. Through it all, Alex pretended they had all the time in the world stretching before them. He never let on to Annie that he sometimes looked at her and imagined how empty his life was going to be without her.

Life without her... It was a possibility Alex couldn’t completely discount. Annie had become his wife not by choice, but against her will. Over the months, she had learned to love him; he didn’t doubt the sincerity of her feelings, not for a minute. But the bottom line was, it hadn’t been an instant attraction. Most young women— and Annie was no different than any other—harbored romantic notions of meeting someone special, of being swept into his arms and carried off to live happily ever after. The fact that the fantasy usually lasted only as long as the honeymoon was beside the point and didn’t stop girls from dreaming their dreams.

What if? Those two words haunted Alex, awake or asleep.

“What if, when Annie went away to school, she met a deaf man and fell wildly in love? He imagined her looking across a crowded room, straight into the eyes of Mr. Right. He pictured her waltzing in his arms, attending a play with him, laughing with him. A faceless man, a nameless man, someone with whom Annie would have things in common, most importantly a shared affliction and an inherent understanding of the difficulties that arose from it. At best, Alex could only guess how frustrated she must feel sometimes, not being able to communicate with other people, not being able to read their lips if they turned away while speaking to her. He tried. He truly did. But no matter how much he wanted to understand what it was like for her, he knew he never really would, not without experiencing deafness himself.

In dark moments, Alex remembered the sketch Annie had once drawn of herself without ears. In Albany, she would be like everyone else. If she met a man there, if she fell in love, who could blame her for not wanting to return to Hooperville, where she’d suffered so much pain and humiliation at the hands of others? Alex knew he couldn’t. And therein lay the heartbreak. It was damned easy to love a woman enough to spend a lifetime with her. Loving her enough to set her free was another matter entirely.

It seemed to Alex that time flew by, carrying them relentlessly toward the day when Annie would leave him.

Christmas came and went. December gave way to January, and they began to mark off the days until Annie’s due date. On the evening of the eighth, which was several days early, according to Daniel’s calculations, Alex was in the water closet, washing up before going to bed, when he heard Annie cry out. Heart in throat, he tore into the bedroom to find her standing before the armoire, her white nightgown soaked with pinkish fluid, her face pale with fright.

“Honey, it’s all right. Your water just broke, that’s all.”

Christ! The baby was coming. Alex tore open dresser drawers, searching for a dry nightgown. Striving to appear calm when he actually was terrified, he helped her to change and then got her into bed before racing downstairs to find Maddy.

“Send Henry for Dr. Muir,” he yelled. “Annie’s having the baby! Her water broke. It’s coming, Maddy. We have to get Daniel over here. Fast!”

Maddy stared at him long and hard. “Alex, methinks ye’d better calm down. It’ll likely be hours before the lass gives birth.”

Alex gulped and rubbed a hand over his face. “Are you absolutely sure?’’

Maddy calmly took off her soiled apron and put on a fresh one. “Of course I’m not sure. But, as I understand it, that’s the usual way of things with the first baby.”

Alex, relaxed slightly and took a deep breath. “I guess you’re right. I am overreacting a little, aren’t I?” He gestured weakly and chuckled. “It is just a baby coming, after all. I mean—well, women have babies every day. Right?”

Maddy marched past him. Throwing open the kitchen door, she poked her head into the room beyond and screamed,

“Henry! Get yer arse down here! The baby’s comin’!”

So much for everyone remaining calm. On the way upstairs, Alex discovered that when she was scared, Maddy could damned near outrun him, even going uphill. He also discovered that, jogging abreast of each other, they tended to become stuck when they tried to pass through doorways.

During all this excitement, Annie had drifted off into a restless sleep. When Alex and Maddy reached his bedchamber and found her napping, they each pulled up a chair, one at either side of the bed, and sat down to stare at her stomach.

Every once in a while Annie would moan softly, at which times Alex felt sure her belly tightened. When he said as much to Maddy, she leaned forward to watch more closely.

“Ach! I believe ye’re right. She’s havin’ a slight contraction.”

Alex opened his watch. “It’s fifteen after. Help me remember so we can accurately time them, all right?”

That was how Daniel found the three of them, Annie sound asleep, Alex and Maddy counting her pains. Upon seeing the doctor, Maddy said, “Now that the moment’s upon us, me thinks egg layin’ would’ve been easier.”

Daniel couldn’t help chuckling. “From the look of things, I’d say Annie’s faring better than either of you. It may be a few hours before we get down to serious business, you know. I can sit with Annie while you two get some sleep, if you’d like.”

“Sleep?” they echoed.

Daniel chuckled. “I suppose not.” He rubbed his chin.

“Hmm ... Well, when there’s a change, call me. I’ll be stretched out in the study. If neither of you intends to get some rest, I can’t see why I shouldn’t.”

Right before dawn, Alex ran down to the study to shake the doctor awake. “It’s coming,” he said shakily. “Hurry, Daniel.

She’s in a bad way.”

The physician sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, apparently in no hurry. “I could use a cup of coffee.”

“Coffee?” Alex grabbed the man by his arm and jerked him up from the sofa. “My wife is giving birth! You don’t have time for a goddamned cup of coffee.”

Several cups of coffee and nearly ten hours later, Annie went into hard labor. Alex refused to leave her side, much to Daniel’s dismay. As a general rule, he didn’t allow fathers to attend births. In his experience, most men didn’t handle it well, and thus far, Alex hadn’t shown any sign that he might prove to be an exception. As Annie’s pains grew worse, however, Alex dug in and weathered the storm quite well, outwardly calm and doing all he could to soothe Annie when she became frightened.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he said, over and over. “I’m here.”

Watching the two of them together, Daniel realized he had underestimated the love they felt for each other. No matter how excruciating her pain, Annie never took her gaze off Alex or let go of his hand. And, exhausted though Alex was, he never left the girl’s side, not to have a meal, not to rest, not even to stretch his legs.

What touched Daniel most of all, though, was watching the two of them communicate in sign. More than once, he saw Alex moving his fingers against Annie’s palm, talking to her—Daniel suspected he was saying he loved her—in an intimate way that no one else could interpret. When the climactic moment finally arrived, Daniel delivered the baby, but it was Alex who coached Annie through the ordeal, Alex who mopped her face and smoothed her hair, Alex who placed her son in her arms. “A boy, Annie,” he said huskily. “Isn’t he something? We have a son.’’

When Daniel saw the tears in Alex Montgomery’s eyes, he took it as his cue to leave the room and give the couple some privacy. Once in the hall, he leaned wearily against the wall, his gaze fixed blankly on the floor, his thoughts on Annie, Alex, and their marriage, which, until today, he had believed was little more than a convenient arrangement. Not so, he realized now. If ever he’d seen two people deeply in love, it was those two. Albany... In March, Annie would go away to school, leaving her husband behind. Daniel had sincerely believed it was the best thing for the girl. Now he was no longer so sure.

Watching Alex’s face as he looked down at his son in her arms, Annie was filled with an indescribable joy. He looked both tender and fiercely protective, every line of his face taut with emotion. She understood the feelings, for she was experiencing them herself. Her baby. Her own tiny baby. In the space of only a few minutes, she loved this tiny person so completely it was almost frightening.

Alex knelt beside the bed and curled an arm around the two of them. Blinking to keep her eyes open, for she was absolutely exhausted, Annie looked into his beloved face and smiled. She’d never felt so complete. In that moment, it struck her that, for the first time in her life, she could love without reservation. There were two people who needed her. Really needed her. She’d never felt needed before.

From girl to woman... Annie felt as though she’d made the journey almost overnight. But, oh, it was wonderful. Sleepily, she traced the handsome lines of Alex’s dark face with her gaze. Then she looked down at her son. The warmth of his tiny body pressed against her breast was the most wondrous feeling she’d ever experienced. He resembled his papa, she decided.

A good thing. It would be a shame if he were to grow up and look like her.

On that thought, she closed her eyes, losing the battle against exhaustion. As she drifted off to sleep, she was filled with a sense of purpose. For years, she had slipped away to the attic to pretend she was somebody. From now on, there would be no need to pretend. Through this man and child, she had found definition.

Annie Montgomery ... wife and mother.

* * *

“Thank God I’m sterile,” Alex said to Daniel a short while later when they met downstairs in the study. “Never again. I never want her to go through that again.”

Daniel smiled to himself and leaned a shoulder against the rock face of the fireplace. “I don’t mean to be the voice of doom, my man, but what if you aren’t?”

“Castrate me.”

Daniel threw back his head and laughed. Alex shot him a glare. “I don’t know what you think is so damned funny. That poor girl. My God, I’ve never seen anything like it.” His eyes darkened with worry. “Will she heal? Back like she was, I mean?”

Daniel considered the question. “Well, a certain amount of stretching has occurred. A woman can never provide as tight a fit for her husband after the babies start coming along.”

A fiery glint entered Alex’s eyes. “Jesus Christ, Daniel! I don’t care if I have to tie a two-by-four to my ass to keep from falling in. That wasn’t what I was asking. I want to know if she’s going to be all right inside. Has this caused any permanent injury?’’

“Of course not. She’ll be right as rain in four weeks. If you’re truly dead set against putting any more bread in her oven, come see me before the time has elapsed and I’ll advise you on precautionary measures. You needn’t worry about it now.”

Alex sank into a chair and sighed. “I don’t need to worry about it, period.’’

“If you don’t want more children, I suggest you take precautions, nonetheless. True, you had the mumps and there were complications. But I’ve seen men recover from worse cases and go on to sire children.”

“Not me. I’m sterile, I tell you.”

“You’ve been associating only with prostitutes, Alex. That kind of woman protects herself. How the hell can you possibly know if you’re sterile?”

“How do you know what kind of women I’ve associated with?’’

“Gossip.”

“Gossip?”

Muir smiled slightly. “You’re a very eligible bachelor and not given to promiscuous behavior. On those rare occasions when you went into town, tongues wagged about it for a month. I presumed you were patronizing Kate’s place. Was I wrong?”

Alex ran a hand over his face. “No, you weren’t wrong.”

Now that he thought about it, Alex supposed Kate’s girls did take precautions to prevent pregnancy. “And your point is well-taken, Daniel. I suppose there is a minute possibility that I’m not sterile.” He flashed the doctor a stricken look. “God help me, if I get that girl pregnant again, I’ll shoot myself.”

Daniel couldn’t help chuckling at his horrified expression.

“The next time will be easier on her, son. Trust me, she’s perfectly made to deliver a dozen healthy babies.”

“A dozen? Jesus Christ!” Alex shot up from his chair and started to pace. “That’s it then. I’m not touching her. Maybe it’s a damned good thing I’m sending her away to school, after all.”

Daniel pushed away from the fireplace and thrust his hands in his pockets. He’d heard many a man make the same vow directly after his wife delivered their first child. “You’ll begin to feel differently as time wears on.”

Alex shook his head. “No. She is not going to suffer like that again. Not if I can help it, and there’s no question there. It’s a simple matter of abstinence.”

Highly amused, Daniel asked, “What will you do? Go into town every Saturday night? Annie may have something to say about that.”

“My nights in town are over. I’m married, for God’s sake.”

Daniel grinned. “We’ll see how things go. As I said, there are some precautions you can take. When Annie comes home for visits or you go to Albany to see her, abstinence may be rather—constraining.”

Alex glanced back over his shoulder. “Are the precautions absolutely safe?”

“Nothing is absolutely safe.”

“Then I’ll suffer.”

It was a promise Alex meant to keep.

Twenty-four

During the first month of his life, Bartholomew Alexander Montgomery, named after Alex’s father, grew at an impressive rate, thriving on his mother’s milk and the limitless love that was showered upon him by all the adults in his world.

But even with his added inches, at the end of four weeks, he still wasn’t as long as his name. What he lacked in length, however, he compensated for with lung power. When he cried, everyone in the house but his mother heard him and came running.

Little Bart, Alex called him. It was a name that underwent subtle changes when he woke up Alex at three o’clock in the morning. As he scooped his son from the cradle to pace the floor with him, Alex would whisper, “You little fart. It’s the middle of the night.” Bart, like his mother, seemed to have no concept of time and was a creature of impulse. Predawn socializing had never been one of Alex’s favorite activities.

But, after four weeks, he had to admit that the habit was beginning to grow on him. A little too much for his peace of mind. It was already the tenth of February and the first of March was only three weeks away.

For several different reasons, Alex had waited to tell Annie that he meant to send her away to school. For one, he wanted what little time they had left together untarnished by sadness, and the minute he told Annie, they were both going to feel sad.

For another, he fully expected her to take the news badly, and he couldn’t see much point in upsetting her weeks before it was necessary. For fourteen years, she’d been forced to live in veritable seclusion. To suddenly be thrust into the world, to be expected to attend classes and socialize, would not be easy for her.

There was also the inescapable fact that Alex had discovered a very broad yellow streak running up his spine.

The long and short of it was, he didn’t look forward to telling Annie of his decision because he knew she was going to hate him for it. Attending school in Albany was the best thing for her. Alex was convinced of that, and eventually Annie would realize it as well. But, like bitter medicine, what was best for a person wasn’t always very palatable.

Well in advance, Alex thought of a dozen different ways he might break the news to her, but when the moment finally arrived, all his well-rehearsed speeches went the way of dandelion fluff on the wind. They were in the study, a checkerboard unfolded on the game table between them, the baby well-bundled and asleep on the horsehair sofa nearby.

Gathering his courage, Alex looked into his wife’s beautiful blue eyes and said, “I have a wonderful surprise for you, Annie. It’s something I’ve been waiting to tell you about for weeks now.”

In the flickering light from the fire, her smile seemed even more radiant than usual. Looking at her, Alex knew he’d never seen anyone more beautiful. Two days ago, the dressmaker had completed her postnatal wardrobe, and she was absolutely stunning in a deep rose skirt and pale pink cotton blouse with ruffled cap sleeves. The outfit conformed to her figure, revealing her now slender waist and gently flaring hips.

“A surprise? What is it? A puppy?”

Alex’s throat went tight. He hadn’t forgotten her yearning for a dog. Before deciding to send her away, he’d planned to buy her one for Christmas. Now that would have to wait until she finished school. “No, not a dog, sweetheart.” He forced a smile. “It’s something better than that.” Leaning forward over the checkerboard, he looked deeply into her eyes. “I’ve decided to send you to school, Annie. A school for the deaf.”

Her eyes darkened, and a bewildered expression came across her small face. “School?” She smiled hesitantly.

“When?”

“In three weeks,” Alex said huskily. “Oh, Annie, you’re going to love it. The students there put on their own plays.

You’ll be very good at that. You’ve been dressing up and putting on plays in the attic for years! And they have dances there. Real dances. You’ll get to wear pretty dresses and waltz until you drop. Won’t that be fun?”

The darkness left her eyes to be replaced by a sparkle of excitement. “Dances?”

“Absolutely. With music and everything.” As he watched her, Alex sent up a quick, heartfelt prayer that his facial expressions weren’t as revealing as hers, that she would never guess that with every word he spoke, his heart was breaking.

“You’ll make friends there, Annie. With deaf people just like you. People who know how to speak in sign. Before you know it, you’ll be able to read and write. Won’t that be grand?”

She clasped her hands and held them to her chest. “Oh, yes!

In three weeks? How long is three weeks?”

“Not very long. About twenty days.” It wasn’t nearly long enough, not in his books. “You’ll leave on the twenty-eighth.

That’ll give you plenty of time to get settled in before your classes start.”

Her excited smile became frozen. After staring at him for several long seconds, she said, “Leave?”

Alex swallowed. “Um, yes. The school is up in Albany.

You’ll go by train. Maddy will be with you, though, so that won’t be a problem. While you’re at school during the day, she’ll take care of Bart.”

Annie continued to stare at him. “How long?”

Alex knew what she was asking, but he chose to pretend he didn’t. “How long? The train ride, you mean? Several hours.

I’ll have to check the schedule. Albany is about two hundred miles from here.” He smiled again. “That’s five sets of forty, in case you’re wondering. It sounds like a long way, but it really isn’t, not in this day and age with modern modes of transportation.”

Her gaze clung to his. “No... I meant how long will I be at school?”

“Only as long as it takes for you to learn all you need to know. How to speak, how to read and write, how to do arithmetic.”

“A very long time.”

“No ... At the very most, Annie, it’ll be two or three years.

Because you went deaf after acquiring language skills, you’re going to pass the other students as if they’re standing still.

Before you know it, you’ll graduate. Meanwhile, we’ll visit back and forth. It won’t seem like a very long time at all.”

For an awful moment, Alex thought she might burst into tears. Then she brought her chin up, squared her shoulders and flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How exciting.

I can hardly wait!”

With that, she pushed up from her chair, avoiding his gaze, but keeping her face turned toward him so he might read her lips. “I think I’m too excited to play checkers anymore. Please, excuse me.”

“Annie!” Alex called. “Honey, wait...” Quickly gathering up the baby, she headed for the door, never turning, never looking back. As she exited the study, Alex fell back in his chair and closed his eyes. Then, with a violent sweep of his arm, he sent the checkerboard flying.

Annie held Bartholomew snugly against her breast and stared sightlessly into the fire, the toes of her slippers touching the floor periodically to keep the rocking chair in motion. She didn’t look left or right, up or down, just stared straight ahead, the pain in her chest so intense that she found it difficult to breathe.

School... for two or three years. In Albany, where she would learn to speak, read and write, and do arithmetic. In Albany, where she would not be a part of Alex’s life until she was sufficiently accomplished to no longer be an embarrassment to him.

Annie the dummy ...

She closed her eyes, determined not to cry, no matter how much it hurt. She couldn’t blame him. Not really. From the first, she’d known she wasn’t good for him, that her deafness made her unsuitable as a wife. If she went away to school, she might learn to talk. That alone would help. When Alex took her into town, people wouldn’t be as likely to stare and whisper if she could speak. It would be better for Bartholomew as well. The last thing Annie wanted was for him to be teased and taunted because his mother was a dummy.

She knew how it hurt to be constantly ridiculed.

Albany... A school for the deaf. Where she could make friends. A special place, where everyone else was a dummy, too. A place where the dummies put on plays and went to dances and pretended they were normal. A place where Alex could send her so people wouldn’t see her with him all the time and laugh at him.

Bartholomew began to squirm. Opening her eyes, Annie unfastened her bodice and put him to her breast. As he snuggled down to suckle, she ran her fingertips over his silken little head. Rocking, constantly rocking. Inside her head, the word Albany became a singsong. In three weeks, she would go there. In three years, if she learned quickly, she could come home. It was as simple and horrible as that.

Creak— creak— creak— creak. The sound was enough to drive Alex crazy. He sat on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting for Annie to finish feeding Bart so he could talk to her about going away to school. From the look he’d seen in her eyes downstairs, he knew she believed he didn’t want her with him, that he was sending her away expressly to get her out of his way.

Nothing was farther from the truth. He loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone. Just the thought of spending a day without her was torture, let alone months at a time. He’d rather cut off his arm.

From his vantage point, he had a clear frontal view of her.

Bart had long since grown bored with nursing and was pacifying himself, nothing more. Halfhearted suckles, gumming the crest of her nipple. Annie just sat there, letting him rout, her small feet rhythmically pushing to keep the rocker in constant motion. Creak— creak— creak. Alex was tempted to take the goddamned chair and throw it out the window. Instead, he sat there, the epitome of patience, willing his wife to at least look at him.

Bart finally began to doze. Catching her nipple between index and middle fingers, Annie teased his little mouth, apparently reluctant to end the feeding and thus find herself with no excuse to ignore her husband. Watching her, Alex bit down hard on his back teeth, not because she was ignoring him, but because seeing her naked breasts was driving him half-mad.

He pushed up from the bed and began to pace. Four weeks was a hell of a long time to abstain from touching one’s wife.

He felt like the head of a match held too close to a flame, ready to ignite at any second. Between listening to the chair creak incessantly, which she couldn’t hear, and watching her fiddle with herself, he was perilously close to either strangling her or seducing her, the latter of which seemed a lot more tempting.

Now that her ordeal in childbirth had faded a bit from his mind, Alex wasn’t quite so appalled by the thought of siring another child. Dr. Muir had assured him the second birth wouldn’t be as difficult for Annie, and that she was perfectly made to bear children. As if such a thing were even possible. If he truly wasn’t sterile, it seemed rather fortuitous that he’d never left his calling card anywhere. Surely the vinegar-soaked sponges prostitutes used weren’t failure-free as a means of preventing pregnancy.

He strode to the window and pulled back the ivory drape to gaze out into the darkness. Staring at nothing had to be better than torturing himself. After several endless seconds, he glanced over his shoulder, hoping and praying that she had fastened her bodice. But, of course, she hadn’t. Not Annie. She had, however, stopped enticing Bart to nurse. Alex was thankful for small blessings.

He turned and moved decisively toward her. At his approach, she raised blue eyes to his. One look from her, and his irritation vanished. His decision to send her away had hurt her deeply. Somehow, he had to make her understand that it hurt him just as badly to think about letting her go.

Bending over her, he scooped the baby from her arms and put him in his cradle. Then he hunkered beside her rocker, watching dry-mouthed as she tucked her breasts back into her chemise and tied the drawstring into a neat little bow.

“Annie ...” He caught her chin and made her look at him. “I don’t want to send you away. I know that’s what you’re thinking. Don’t deny it. I promise you, sweetheart, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

Eyes luminous with unshed tears and aching with pain, she sat there glaring at him. He had a very bad feeling.

“I love you, damn it. I’m not sending you to school to get rid of you.” Enfolding her hands in his, he listed all his reasons for having made the decision, ending with, “I don’t want to deny you those experiences, sweetheart. If I did, I’d be the most selfish bastard who ever walked.”

“What about what I want?” she finally asked.

Alex sighed. “Honey, you don’t know what you want. Can’t you understand that? How can you know if you’d rather stay here than see a play? You’ve never even seen one. And dances.

It’s easy to think you don’t care about those things, but that’s only because you’ve never done any of them. I have.” He leaned down to look into her slightly downcast eyes. “I know what you’ve missed, Annie, love. And I want you to experience life at its fullest. Making friends, having fun with them. Being able to go to school, like other people. Once you’re there, you’re going to love it. I promise you that.”

She shook her head and gestured around her. “This is the life I want. To be here with you. To be your wife.”

“You only think that because you’ve never experienced anything else.” Alex took a deep breath. He needed strength. It was so tempting, so damnably tempting, to let her stay with him. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s make a bargain, hmm? You go to school and stick it out for one whole year. If, after that long a time, you still want to come home, I—”

She sprang from the chair. After taking several steps away, she swung around to fasten tear-bright eyes on him. Lifting her hands, she cried, “You don’t want me. That’s the truth of it.

And you don’t love me. Not like I love you! If you did, you couldn’t do this.”

Alex rose to his feet. “That is not true. I love you so much it hurts. Just the thought of your leaving makes me feel sick. I don’t—”

She cupped her hands over her eyes. “Just go away!”

He closed the distance between them and drew her hands down. “Annie, sweetheart, please, don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”

“Go away! You don’t want me. I don’t want you. So go away!”

“I do want you.”

Her mouth twisted and the tears welling in her eyes spilled over her dark lashes onto her cheeks. “No, you don’t. You don’t even kiss me anymore.”

The accusation hit Alex like a fist in the gut. It was true; he didn’t kiss her anymore. He feared that if he did, he’d lose control and make love to her. What if he wasn’t sterile? When he was thinking rationally, which he damned well wouldn’t be if he kissed her, he knew that getting her pregnant was a risk he couldn’t take. Another baby ... She wouldn’t be able to go away to school if he got her with child again. If Dr. Muir was right, if there was even a slight chance ...

His voice gravelly with a longing he couldn’t slake, Alex whispered, “I’d like nothing better than to kiss you, Annie, girl.

But if I do, I may do more than just kiss you. If I make love to you, you could get pregnant again.”

Her eyes widened and she pressed a hand over her waist.

“With a baby?”

“Of course, with a baby.”

“Making love. That’s what makes babies?”

Alex swallowed. “Well, yes. How’d you think?”

Looking stricken, she whispered something he didn’t catch.

“What?”

“Fairies,” she repeated. “Mama told me fairies brought them.”

A sudden headache was developing behind Alex’s eyes.

“Fairies?” He gave a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it.

“Surely you didn’t believe that, Annie. I mean, when you thought about it, surely you—” He broke off, staring down at her pale face. “I, um ... I guess, maybe, if no one ever explained, then it’s understandable that you didn’t—”

He broke off, watching her with a sinking heart as she turned an agonized gaze toward the cradle. After a long moment, she stiffened as though someone had struck her, then closed her eyes. A low, keening sound issued from her throat.

Alex reached for her, but she shook him off. When she finally opened her eyes again, the look she gave him was pulverizing.

“You lied.”

The nape of Alex’s neck prickled. “Annie, no. I didn’t lie,”

She had begun to shake. An awful, horrible shaking.

“Douglas!”

“Annie...”

She whirled and ran before Alex could stop her. The door slammed behind her with a resounding crash. The retort startled Bart awake, and he began to fuss. Alex ran out into the hall. He caught a glimpse of pink at the end of the corridor and guessed that Annie was going up to the attic, her favorite hiding place. Hurrying to the landing, he called down for Maddy to come and tend the baby.

* * *

The attic was as dark as pitch. His mind racing, Alex held the lamp high as he made his way toward Annie’s little parlor.

When he finally reached the area he sought, he expected to find her huddled in a corner crying. Instead she was sitting in the old rocker. Moving the lamp so the light played over her, he studied her face, trying to think of something, anything, he might say to soothe her. There was nothing. Not one damned thing.

He set the lamp on her wobbly table and took a seat on one of the straight-backed chairs. For a long while, they simply gazed into each other’s eyes, his aching with regret, hers burning with unvoiced accusations. Looking at it from her side, Alex could see how it must seem, that he had deliberately kept the truth from her. The heartbreak of it was, no one had bothered to lie to her. Not him, not her parents. They hadn’t deemed it necessary because all of them had believed they were dealing with a moron. Later, when Alex learned the truth, the identity of the child’s biological father had seemed irrelevant. In Alex’s heart, he was the father, and that was all that seemed to matter. In his heart, it was still all that mattered.

In a throbbing voice, he said as much. Annie continued to stare at him in accusing silence. Alex sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he looked back at her, he said, “In the beginning, it was my intention to stay married to you only until after the baby came. Then I planned to divorce you and raise the child as my own. From the very beginning, long before I started to love you, Annie, I thought of the baby as mine. When I said as much, I wasn’t lying, I was just telling it the way I saw it.” As briefly as possible, he told her about the case of mumps he had contracted in his early twenties. “Ever since, I’ve assumed I was sterile, that I couldn’t have babies.

Recently, Dr. Muir told me I may be mistaken, but that’s beside the point. On the night your father came to me to tell me you were pregnant with my brother’s child, I believed with all my heart that I could never have a child of my own. I saw your baby as the answer to a prayer, a child that would be closely related to me that I could raise as my own.”

“You were going to steal my baby?” she asked with a horrified look on her face.

Alex groaned. “I didn’t think of it as stealing. Not then. You were—I thought you were incapable of raising the child, that you were mentally disabled. When I began to realize that you were capable of feeling affection, that you might love the baby and pine for it, I decided to keep you here at Montgomery Hall.”

“And that’s why you kept me? So we could share the baby?”

“No!” Alex rubbed a hand over his face. “No... In the beginning, Annie. Only in the beginning. Then I started to fall in love with you. Everything changed after that.

Everything ...” He gave a shaky laugh and gestured with a hand. “To the point that now I’m sending Bart away with you.

If he was all I cared about, do you truly believe I’d do that?”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and looked up at the rafters. When she lowered her gaze, she said, “I feel like you’re sending me away because I embarrass you, that you don’t want me around until I learn not to act like a dummy. ’’

“Oh, Annie, no.” Alex shot up from his chair and crossed the room to her. Going down on one knee before her, he grasped her by the shoulders. Her eyes made him think of wet velvet. “I’m not sending you away to school because you embarrass me. I love you with all my heart, and I’d be proud to go anywhere with you on my arm. Just as you are!

Embarrassed?” He shook his head. “never, not in a million years. It’s just that there are so many things you’ve missed.

Fun things. Wonderful things. Because I love you so much, I want you to have a change to do all of them, and you can’t do them here. That’s all.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, her lips tremulous.

“Oh honey, yes, of course, I’m sure.”

Before Alex quite realized what was about, he was covering her mouth with his. The next instant she melted against him.

Inside his head, his pulse sounded like a drumbeat. Don’t do this. Don’t do this, it seemed to say . But Alex was beyond warnings. Beyond being cautious. With so many other emotions pelting him, the remote possibility of pregnancy didn’t even enter his mind.

Annie … Pulling her up with him, he came to his feet. She felt like pure heaven in his arms. He ran his hands over her body familiarizing herself with her shape, which had altered since childbirth. A slim waist. Gently flared hips. Lord, he wanted to breath right out of her. He moved his hands to her breasts, cupping their softness, reveling in their heat. At his touch, she moaned into his mouth. The sound, thick with need, drove him beyond rational thought.

He fumbled with the buttons of her bodice. As the cloth fell away, he attacked the drawstrings of her chemise. Soft, warm skin. Nipples that eagerly pushed up for the brush of his fingertips. He ran his mouth from her lips to her throat, then lower. She arched her back over his arm, offering herself to him. Alex didn’t need an engraved invitation.

As he drew her nipple into his mouth, the sweetness of her milk spilled over his tongue. Encircling her waist with his hands, he lifted her slightly, feverishly sucking first one nipple, then the other, teasing with his teeth and tongue. She cried out, a long, low wail that trailed off into a moan.

Alex peeled her clothing away as he might have the skin from a delectable piece of fruit, his lips following in the wake of his hands to taste every sweet inch of her the instant he got it uncovered. When he had her stripped, he took a moment to simply adore her with his gaze. Heavy with child, she had been precious to him beyond measure and beautiful in a way he couldn’t put into words. But now? She was every man’s dream, with full, rose-tipped breasts, a tiny waist, ample hips, and long, shapely legs, every inch of her flawless. So lovely, he was almost afraid to touch her. Yet so tempting, he couldn’t resist. He wanted her, had to have her, the devil take all the reasons why he shouldn’t.

He lowered her back into the rocker, jerked his fly open, and buried his shaft into her hot wetness. She looped her legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust, the motion of the rocker heightening their rhythm. Creak— creak— creak.

Vaguely, Alex was aware of the sound, but for some reason, it no longer wore on his nerves.

Some time later, he returned to his senses to find that he was lying on the attic floor, his lovely wife sprawled naked on top of him, her face pressed to the hollow of his neck. As his vision sharpened, he found himself staring into a pair of beady little eyes. A mouse was perched on Annie’s slender shoulder.

Alex blinked, then smiled as he stroked the tiny creature with a fingertip.

Madness. Making love in a mouse-infested attic? He closed his eyes, perfectly content to go crazy as long as this woman he held in his arms was with him.

Three weeks. He could hold her and love her for three more weeks, and he intended to make the most of every second.

He’d avoid getting her pregnant, and he’d take every precaution. But love her, he would. As much as he could, for as long as he could.

Three more weeks ... After that, his wife and child would be gone, and his arms would be empty.

So would his life.

Twenty-five

Three weeks later, when Alex took Annie and Maddy to the station in Medford to see them off, the morning was cold, gloomy, and damp, a perfect reflection of his mood, which was dismal, to say the least. He had been dreading this moment for over two months, didn’t want to face it, and could have thought of a dozen perfectly rational reasons to do an about-face and take his wife and baby home.

“Have you got your tickets?”

Wincing, Alex realized he was yelling so Annie might hear him over the train’s engine. Reaching under the thick folds of her wool cloak, he caught her arm and drew her to a stop, leaning around so she could see his face as he repeated the question. She opened her reticule, a blue silk bag embroidered with jet beads, and started to fish through the jumbled contents.

Alex glimpsed something small and brown wriggling among the papers. Before he could register what it was or react, it took a flying leap.

“Naah-ooh!” Annie shrieked.

“Christ!” Alex swore.

“Mouse!” a fat lady screamed.

From that moment on, all hell broke loose, women screeching and jumping on benches, men stomping about in an attempt to squash the scurrying little creature under their heels.

Alex leaped into the fray, not entirely sure what he hoped to accomplish, aside from making a complete ass of himself.

With all the noise and confusion, he doubted the poor mouse was going to stand still so he might catch it. But with Annie’s worshipful gaze fixed on him, her expression hailing him as her hero, he couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.

The mouse took cover between a trash receptacle and a post, whereupon a woman, skirts bunched around her knees with one hand, launched an attack on the mouse’s hiding place with wild swings of her purse. All Alex could think about was Annie’s pet being bludgeoned to death before her very eyes.

He dived between the woman and the garbage can, rendering her blows harmless by taking the brunt of them across his shoulders. When his fingertips connected with a furry little body, he made a none-too-gentle grab. Tiny teeth sank into his index finger.

“Jesus Christ! You ungrateful little shit!”

“Watch your language, sir!” Kerwhack. The woman’s purse hit him squarely on the ear. As he straightened, Alex raised an arm to protect his face. “How dare you turn a mouse loose in a public place!” she cried. “I nearly had heart failure!”

She looked in fine form to Alex. He dodged another swing of her purse. “Madam, kindly stop swinging that reticule at me.”

She thumped him on the shoulder. “Disturbing the peace!

Terrifying innocent people! And a grown man, no less. Such pranks are to be expected from young boys. But you? I’ve a good mind to report you. Rodents are diseased. Rabies! The plague! How dare you subject other people to—’’ Alex cupped the rescued mouse against his coat lapel. “This is no ordinary mouse. It’s a”—he grabbed at the first words that came to him—”genus attica. It’s very rare. My wife wouldn’t take a thousand dollars for it.”

The woman blinked. “Rare, you say?”

“You have no idea.”

She pursed her lips, the movement twitching the end of her nose and making her nostrils flare. “Did I understand you to say it’s worth over a thousand dollars?”

“That and more.”

“Oh, my ...” She touched a hand to her throat. “Oh, I am so sorry. At a glance, it certainly looked like an ordinary mouse.”

“Madam,” Alex said with his most well-practiced smile,

“only a damned fool would charge through a train station trying to catch an ordinary mouse. Thank your lucky stars that you did it no serious injury.”

She raised her penciled eyebrows and leaned sideways to peer at his cupped hand. “You don’t say? A genus attica? You know, now that you mention it, I’ve heard of them. In fact, I think I saw one exhibited at the fair last year. Oh, yes, I’m sure—a genus attica. Yes, that was it. How absolutely extraordinary!”

“You won’t see many people packing one around, I can tell you that.”

She gestured for a thin little man standing nearby. “Horace, come and look. This man has a genus attica. Isn’t that amazing? We saw one at the fair last year, remember?”

Tweaking his mustache and rocking back onto his heels, Horace looked surprised to hear that. “Hmm ... Ah, yes. A genus—what was that you said?”

“A genus attica! They’re valuable beyond measure. You remember.” She came closer to Alex. “May I see?”

Several other people were gathering around. Alex captured the mouse in his cupped hands and parted his thumbs so the woman could have a peek. She assumed a knowledgeable air and nodded. “Oh, yes. Upon closer inspection, I can see that this is no ordinary mouse. The ears of the genus attica are quite distinctive, are they not?”

A well-dressed man leaned forward to look over the woman’s shoulder at the mouse. “The nose is quite distinctive as well. Dear God, a genus attica. It’s a miracle some damned fool didn’t smash it.”

“Oh, isn’t he cute?” another woman cried. “Paul, I’d love to have one of those. What a conversation piece. Where on earth did you buy him, sir?”

“Actually, I didn’t,” Alex replied. “You might say I came by him through a special liaison. Connections, you know. As I said, not just everybody has one.”

Annie dashed up just then. Alex relinquished the mouse to her. She held it to her cheek, making soft cooing noises. None of the onlookers seemed to think that was strange, not now that they realized the mouse was a rare and expensive genus attica.

Alex knew when to retreat. He seized Annie by the arm and hotfooted it away from there. He spied Maddy standing near the steps of the train and veered in her direction. “Did ye catch the bloomin’ mouse?” she asked as they joined her.

“Keep your voice down,” Alex whispered. “That woman over there nearly sent for the authorities. Said mice were a health hazard, of all the crazy things.”

“Well, I never!” Maddy huffed.

“From here on, it’s a genus attica. Very rare, very expensive.

Otherwise, they might discover it later and put you off the train.”

Maddy shot a look at Annie, who was carefully stowing her pet back in her reticule. “We can’t have that.”

“No, we cannot.”

“A genus attica.” Maddy nodded. “It has a certain ring to it.

Have ye got the tickets?”

Alex’s heart leaped when he saw Annie reopen her reticule to get the tickets, but this time she caught the mouse in one hand while she searched. When she came up with the fare vouchers, he nearly sighed with relief. If she and Maddy missed this train, they wouldn’t be able to leave for Albany until tomorrow. As much as he would have enjoyed keeping them home another day, he didn’t think he could survive saying all the goodbyes again. Last night, holding Annie in his arms, not knowing how long it might be before he saw her again, had been agony.

After taking the tickets, Alex made sure she got her mouse tucked safely away. “Don’t take it out on the train,” he cautioned her. “Not everyone has a fondness for”—he lowered his voice—”mice, you know. In fact, some people are downright peculiar about them.”

“All aboard!” the conductor yelled.

Alex caught Annie’s arm, drawing her quickly along to catch up with Maddy, who was already harkening to the conductor’s call.

“All aboard! All aboard!” the conductor yelled again.

When they reached Maddy, Alex stuffed the tickets in her hand and took little Bart from her to give him one last hug.

Tears burned in his eyes as he nuzzled aside the blanket and pressed his cheek against the baby’s downy hair. After returning the infant to the housekeeper’s waiting arms, he turned to Annie. Her mouth was quivering and her eyes were swimming.

“I’ll write,” he assured her. “It won’t be so bad, sweetheart.

You’ll see. Once you get started at school, you’re going to love it.”

She nodded, looking so dismal and forlorn that it was all he could do not to call the whole thing off.

“I love you, Annie, girl. I’m going to miss you every second of every day.”

The end of her nose started turning red. Alex bent to kiss the tip, then gathered her into his arms. He closed his eyes, pressed his face against her hair, and dragged in a deep breath, trying to memorize her scent. He was shaking when he drew away from her.

“I don’t want to go,” she said.

Pretending he hadn’t noticed, Alex kissed her forehead.

Then he turned to Maddy. “You’ll write? Once a week, at least.”

“Lands, yes. I told ye, Master Alex, I’ll write ye every week without fail!” She handed the tickets to the conductor, then, cradling the baby in one arm, grabbed Annie’s wrist. “Come along, lass. They’re gonna leave without us.”

“If anything goes wrong, wire me. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”

“Not to worry,” Maddy called. “I’ll wire if we need ye.”

Alex clenched his teeth and shifted his gaze to Annie. Big blue eyes, clinging to his. As Maddy started up the steps, Annie craned her neck to look back at him. He lifted a hand to wave. Then, just like that, she was gone.

He walked alongside the train, searching for her face at one of the windows. The train began to move. He picked up his pace, desperately searching, determined to get one more glimpse of her. Just one. When the train pulled away from him, he staggered to a stop, staring after it, feeling more desolate than he ever had in his life.

When Alex returned to Montgomery Hall, the house seemed utterly silent. Feeling indescribably lonely, he wandered from room to room, seeing Annie or the baby everywhere he look d e

Gone. In his study, he sat before the fireplace, stared into the soot-blackened firebox, and thought to himself that the darkness was an omen. They were gone, and there was every chance they might never come back. As difficult as it was, he had to accept that. Frederick tapped on the study door. “Migh t

I get you something, Master Alex? A cup of coffee, perhaps?

Or have one of the maids bring you in some lunch?” Alex sighed. “I’m not really hungry, Frederick. Thank you, anyway.”

The butler walked farther into the room. When he reached the hearth, he did the unprecedented and sat in the opposite chair. “I know it’s no consolation, but you’ve done the right thing, sir. Difficult, I know. But, in the end, it will be what’s best for her, and for the babe.”

That realization was small comfort. Alex said nothing.

“Maddy will write regularly, I’m sure. And before you know it, Annie will be sending letters.”

Alex nodded. “It’ll be easier then, I suppose. But it’ll be a spell before she learns to read and write, Frederick.”

“Yessir, I know.” The man fell silent for a moment, hands turned toward the fireplace as if to warm them even though no fire burned in the grate. “What you need are some projects to keep you busy. One thing the two of us might set our minds to is a mouse cage. I hate to complain, but since Annie sprang all the traps in the attic, we’re being overrun. Droppings in the flour this morning, no less.”

“Dear God. You tossed it out, I hope.”

“Well, sir, not exactly. Given the fact that the creatures seem taken with it, I, um... took it upstairs. I thought maybe—well, if they have food up there, perhaps they’ll stay out of the kitchen.”

Alex groaned and rubbed his forehead. Then he gave a halfhearted laugh. “Frederick, that’s mad. Feeding the attic mice? Have you any idea how quickly they multiply? I can’t recall the exact figures I learned in college, but the multiplication factor is phenomenal.”

“You’re right, of course. Quite mad, feeding the mice.” He slanted a look at Alex. “I’ll let you be the one to reset the traps, if you’d be so kind.”

Alex groaned again. “I can’t do that. Sure as hell, I’d catch a favorite of hers. Maybe you have a point. I’ll have to build a cage for them.” Recalling the incident at the train station, he recounted the story to Frederick. “Maybe we could go into business and sell the buggers,” he joked. “Five hundred a head.

What a bargain!”

Frederick grinned. “I’d be pleased to just give them away, sir.”

“No problem. I could have gotten rid of two dozen this morning, easily. Incredible, isn’t it? Tell people something is rare and expensive, and they immediately want one.”

As Alex fell silent again, Frederick said, “If you want help with a cage, I’m handy with a hammer and nails.”

“Thank you, Frederick. I appreciate the offer.”

“After we’ve rounded up Annie’s little friends, perhaps we can reset the traps?”

“There’s a thought.”

“As for their multiplying, perhaps I can”—the butler cleared his throat and lowered his voice—”discreetly dispose of any unwanted offspring.”

“We’ll have to do something,” Alex agreed listlessly, and returned his gaze to the firebox.

“Don’t feel too down at the mouth, Master Alex. It’s not as if you can’t go visit her whenever you wish.”

“Not any time soon. I need to give her a chance to settle in or she’ll beg to come home, and quite frankly, I don’t know if I could refuse her, not feeling the way I do right now.

Everywhere I look, there’s something to remind me of her or Bart. I keep thinking of all I’ll miss. He’ll grow so much between visits, I probably won’t recognize him.” What really bothered Alex was that the same would undoubtedly be true in reverse. Just the thought nearly broke his heart. He finally had a son, and now he couldn’t be part of his babyhood.

Frederick sighed and stood up. “I’m a fair hand at checkers, if you should like some company now and again.”

The offer made Alex smile. “You sound as blue as I am.”

“Yes, well... It won’t seem quite the same around here without Maddy to harp at me, will it?”

Alex glanced up. After searching the butler’s gaze for a long moment, he chuckled. “I’ll be damned.”

Color flooded Frederick’s face. “You won’t let on to her, I hope. I haven’t declared myself. She’s rather... prickly, our Maddy.”

“My lips are sealed.”

The butler straightened his black jacket, then picked at a bit of imaginary lint on the sleeve. “I only mentioned it because—” He cleared his throat. “Well, as the old saying goes, sir, misery sometimes enjoys a spot of company, and without a dose of Irish temper once a day to keep my life interesting, I will be a tad miserable.”

“When I go to Albany for visits, maybe you’d like to go along?’’

Frederick sniffed. “It’s certainly a thought, my schedule allowing.”

After the other man left, Alex pushed up from his chair and moved aimlessly around the room. When he reached the organ, he trailed a hand over the highly polished surface. Moving on from there, he paused to tap out a couple of notes on the sleigh bells. Then he went to his desk. One of Annie’s ear trumpets lay on the blotter. He picked it up, stared at it for a long while, and then closed his eyes on a wave of pain so intense he felt physically sick.

* * *

From that day on, Alex’s life narrowed down to one focal point, letters from Maddy. A week and a half later, the first arrived. He closeted himself in his study and opened it with shaking hands.

Well, we’ve arrived, Maddy wrote. As small a place as Albany is, Annie was terrified when we first got here, but she is settling down some now and seems to like her classes.

Alex gulped. He didn’t want her to like it there, damn it. At the thought, guilt rolled through him. He forced himself to keep reading.

The teachers seem to be a kindly lot, and on the very first day, she made several new friends. She wants to come home, of course. Each afternoon, when I walk to the school to escort her home, the teacher conveys to me that Annie is constantly expressing a desire to leave. I’m sure she’ll get past it, eventually, but for right now it’s difficult for her, and for me as well. I can’t help but feel sorry for the poor wee lass.

The letter went on to update him on how Bart was doing and to describe the small town of Albany and the house where Annie and Maddy lived. Alex read it, reread it, and then read it yet again. It was a short missive, and he soon had every word of it memorized.

News of Annie. Updates on Bart. Alex knew it was madness, but he honestly felt that was all he had left to live for. Edie Trimble dropped by one afternoon. Alex shared Maddy’s letter with her. After reading it, she glanced up and smiled tremulously.

“I know how you must miss them,” she said.

Alex doubted that. It wasn’t just that he missed his wife and child. He felt as if his heart had been ripped from his breast.

“It’s ... difficult. There are moments when I’m not so sure I’ve made the right choice.”

Edie leaned close to touch his hand. “Don’t think it, not for a minute. This is, without question, the most precious gift you could have given her, Alex. She doesn’t understand that now, but she will. Down the road, she will.”

Alex could only hope.

A week later, another missive from Maddy arrived. Annie was doing well, she said, and Bart was growing by leaps and bounds. The weather had turned unseasonably warm and flowers were blooming in their dooryard. In regard to school, only one difficulty had arisen thus far; when Annie spoke in sign, she was making many of the hand motions incorrectly.

Nothing serious, just slight variances. Annie’s teacher said that, given the situation, Alex had done a wonderful job of tutoring her. It was a simple case of his having misinterpreted the instructions in the manuals, a common enough occurrence, and one that was usually easily rectified. Annie, however, refused to cooperate, explaining to her teacher, over and over, that if she began making the signs differently, then Alex wouldn’t be able to understand her anymore.

That brought tears to Alex’s eyes. He wrote back to Maddy and asked her to tell Annie that she needn’t worry about his not understanding her. While she was away, he would ask Irene Small for clearer instructional material and teach himself how to talk in sign correctly. Immediately after sealing the envelope addressed to Maddy, he penned a note to Mrs. Small to carry through on that promise.

Around the middle of April, Alex received a letter that, according to the postmarks, had gotten sidetracked and gone clear to San Francisco. When he perused the awkwardly printed letters on the outside of the envelope, he wasn’t surprised. Hopervile, Orgen? There was no return address, and he didn’t recognize the scrawled printing. He tore open the seal and withdrew a folded piece of widely ruled tablet paper.

As he smoothed the sheet, his attention was caught by the letter’s closing. Luv, Anie. His heart caught. Incredulous, he struggled to interpret the roughly composed sentences, marveling at how much she had learned in so short a time. I mis yu. I wan to cum hom. Pleze.

On the last line, she had written, I mis yu big. Alex read those last words through a blur of tears. He sank onto the corner of his desk and lifted the paper to his nose. The faint scent of roses clung to it. He closed his eyes, imagining how it would be to hold her in his arms, to bury his face against the sweet curve of her neck. The longing that filled him was so acute, he trembled with it.

When he had recovered his composure sufficiently, he penned a letter back to her, printing the words, keeping the sentences short and simple. A cheerful note, encouraging her to do well in school, to enjoy the social activities.

Those few short sentences were the most difficult he had ever written in his life.

As regularly as clockwork, letters from Maddy arrived once a week from that point on. She kept Alex abreast of all the news, but there wasn’t much. Annie was doing well in school.

The baby was growing. They were all three fine.

The first of May, Alex received another letter from Annie.

This time, in addition to pleading with him to let her come home, she wrote three sentences that made his blood turn to ice . I hav a nu frend. He is def. We laff a lot.

Alex’s first reaction, bone-deep fear, finally gave way to fatalistic acceptance. If Annie found someone else, if she fell in love, then their marriage had never been meant. All her life, she’d been denied everything other people took for granted. If he loved her, truly loved her, then he wouldn’t let his own selfish yearnings deprive her of this one chance at a normal life.

Shortly thereafter, another letter from Maddy arrived. She described Annie’s new friend, Bruce, as a pleasant, handsome young fellow. He clearly adores her, and he’s wonderful with the baby, which endears him to her. After finishing the letter, Alex sat in his study, staring at nothing. Was Maddy issuing a warning? The thought made him ache. Bruce ... Without ever clapping eyes on the man, Alex detested him. Wonderful with the baby, was he? The lowdown skunk, using the child to worm his way into Annie’s affections. It was the oldest trick in the book. What frightened Alex was that it just might work.

Was he about to lose Annie? Without her and the baby, he wasn’t sure the rest of his life would be worth living.

Agonizing over the news, he went to the stable and worked late into the night, pushing himself to the point of exhaustion so he could sleep. When he finally dropped into bed, it was only to be haunted by dreams. Dreams of Annie ... dancing the waltz in the arms of another man.

On May 15, another letter from Annie arrived. After Maddy’s subtle warning about good old Bruce, Alex was almost afraid to open the envelope. Inside he found only a sketch. As he smoothed it on his desk to examine it, he frowned. As she had done that long ago day in the nursery, Annie had drawn a lifelike sketch of his face and hers, the attention to detail amazing. Only in this sketch, Annie had ears and Alex didn’t. No message. Nothing to explain. Only a picture of him without ears?

Alex studied the drawing endlessly, not knowing what to make of it. Then, like a mule kick between the eyes, it finally struck him what she was trying to say.

I wan to cum hom, she had written . I mis yu big. And he had ignored the plea, writing back to her as though he’d never read the message, encouraging her to do well in her studies and enjoy the social activities. In his determination to do what was best for her, he had turned a deaf ear to what she thought and what she wanted, as if her feelings and wishes counted for nothing.

He had tried to lay the world at her feet, and in the trying, he had cheated her out of the most important thing of all, the right to make her own choices.

“Oh, Annie, love...”

Alex closed his eyes on a wave of regret. He should never have listened to Dr. Muir and Edie Trimble. No one knew Annie better than Alex. No one understood her better. And no one loved her more.

In a twinkling, he saw himself with her that long ago afternoon in the attic, picking up shattered china, thinking to himself that the tea party was over, but that Annie’s life had just begun. In that moment, he had made a vow to do everything in his power to turn all her fantasies into realities.

Looking back, he reconstructed the scene in his mind. A cozy parlor. Annie, serving tea in mismatched pieces of china.

Annie, dancing in the arms of her dream man to imaginary music. No thick tomes. No classroom. No hordes of strangers.

Just a simple little world, arranged to her liking, peopled by individuals who allowed her to be somebody.

A normal life ... That had been her dream. To be recognized as a person with needs and thoughts and emotions. To be loved.

To be accepted for who she was. Instead of giving her all that, he had started trying to change her. Why he’d done so was a mystery, for he loved Annie just the way she was.

Pictures of her flashed through his mind, all bringing a smile to his lips. Annie, searching through her bedding for an egg.

Annie, sitting on his knee, lips pursed, eyes filled with bewilderment, as he unfastened her chemise. Annie, repeatedly striking one note on the organ, her expression blissful. Annie, sprawled on the dining room table, skirts above her waist, a napkin stuffed in her mouth so no one would hear her scream as he brought her to climax. Annie, replete from lovemaking, with a mouse perched on her shoulder. Annie, with her luminous eyes and her gentle smile.

She was perfect just as she was. Absolutely perfect.

Twenty-six

Alex stood at the white picket gate and gazed at the large white house. Set well back from the street, it had sloping green lawns, well-tended flower beds, and large shade trees, one of which sported a swing hanging from one of its thick limbs. On the front veranda, several young people sat in wicker chairs, drinking what looked like iced tea and engaging in conversation. Watching their quick hand movements, Alex smiled slightly. He clearly had a lot of practicing to do if he hoped to become proficient in sign language.

The gate creaked loudly when he opened it. No one on the porch turned to look. As Alex made his way up the walk, he searched the windows of the house, half hoping he might see Annie. When he reached the steps, a good-looking young man on the porch noticed his approach and stood to greet him.

“Hello. May I help you?”

Startled, Alex hesitated with one foot on the bottom step.

The man’s speech was rather flat and oddly nasal, but each word was pronounced perfectly and distinctly. “Perhaps. I’m Alex Montgomery. My wife, Annie, is a student here.”

The man’s blue eyes warmed at the mention of Annie’s name. He smiled, making no secret of the fact that he was looking Alex over. “You aren’t as handsome as she says you are.”

The comment took Alex aback, and he laughed. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“I’m not disappointed. I consider you to be my competition.” An unmistakable twinkle lit up his eyes. He extended his right hand. “My name is Bruce Johnson.”

Alex glanced at his outstretched palm. After a moment’s hesitation, he shook it. “I recognize the name. My housekeeper, Maddy, has mentioned you in several letters. I understand you’ve been actively courting my wife.”

Bruce chuckled. “Trying.”

“Any luck?”

“Not yet.”

Alex laughed in spite of himself. As much as he hated to admit it, he liked the man. “I’m relieved to hear that.”

“Annie is very loyal. We’re good friends, nothing more.”

Alex moved on up the steps. “She is here, isn’t she?”

“She’s in class right now.” He drew a watch from his vest pocket. “Ten minutes more, and she’ll be done for the day.”

Alex didn’t want to wait ten minutes, but he supposed he had no choice. He leaned against the porch taking and folded his arms. “How long have you been a student here?”

“I’m a teacher.”

“Oh.”

Bruce grinned. “Many of the teachers here are deaf. Believe it or not, being deaf makes it easier for us to teach. We understand better. There are hearing teachers, too. We need them for the speech classes. I obviously can’t be sure if a student is getting his phonetics right.”

Alex nodded. “How is Annie progressing?”

Bruce’s smile faded. “She’s very smart, and she has the advantage of having once been lingual. But she isn’t learning as fast as she could.”

“Oh? She’s been sending me letters. The words are misspelled, but I—” Alex shrugged. “I naturally assumed she must be learning by leaps and bounds.”

Bruce turned an embarrassed pink. “Yes, well, I helped her a bit.” His mouth quirked. “I didn’t correct her spelling. If you saw how hard she works to print just one letter in a word, you’d understand why. I didn’t have the heart to make her do it all over, and I thought you’d rather have a letter she’d done herself, mistakes and all, than one I corrected.”

Alex couldn’t think what to say. In his breast pocket, he had all of Annie’s letters. He’d traced each word with his fingertips a hundred times.

“Annie’s ... homesick. Aside from the letter writing, her heart hasn’t really been in her studies.”

Alex met Bruce’s gaze. “Why do I have this feeling that you’re campaigning in her behalf?”

“Probably because I am. All of us could learn more, you included. How’s your Latin?”

“Not worth a shit.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Then perhaps you should go away to school for a few years and learn the language. After your Latin is perfect, you can go home and be with your wife.”

The man was butting in where he had no business, but for the life of him, Alex couldn’t be angry. “Point taken.” He smiled slightly. “The lecture isn’t necessary, though. I’ve come to take her home. Since sending her here, I’ve realized it was a mistake.”

Bruce’s blue eyes darkened. Alex could see that the news of Annie’s departure hit him hard. He recovered quickly. “I’m glad you’ve changed your mind. For her sake.” He lifted one shoulder. “Why learn to speak if the one person you want to talk to is far away? Annie’s heart isn’t here. It never will be.

Let her learn at a slower pace at home with you. It’s where she belongs.”

With that, he started to turn away. Alex reached out and touched his arm. “I’d like to surprise her. Please don’t tell her I’m here.”

Bruce smiled. “I was going to catch her so I could tell her goodbye. Once she sees you, she’ll be so excited ...” He lifted his hands. “Will you tell her for me then?’’

“Happily,” Alex said with a laugh. Then he sobered. “We’ll be staying the night here in Albany and taking the morning train. Why don’t you join us for supper? That way you can say your own goodbyes and spend some time with her before she leaves.”

Bruce brightened at the invitation. He made a show of studying Alex for a minute before he turned and went in the house. “You grow on a person,” he said over his shoulder.

Alex chuckled and drew out his watch to check the time.

Annie’s class would end in three more minutes, which converted into one hundred and eighty seconds, each the longest of his life.

When the front door finally swung open and students began spilling out onto the porch, Alex straightened, his heart leaping whenever he spied a dark head. Two young men came out, three young women. No Annie. Alex realized he was shaking, and from the way his stomach felt, he could have sworn he’d swallowed a handful of jumping beans.

Then, like a vision, she appeared. Alex stood there, frozen, his gaze riveted to her. Sable hair, ivory skin, eyes as clear and endlessly deep as a summer sky. She held a stack of books in one arm and was trying to fasten her cloak. Another student exited behind her and bumped her shoulder. She stepped out of the way, which put her directly in front of Alex. Still, she didn’t look up.

“Annie...”

No response. Her gaze caught on his shoes. She slowly looked up. When her eyes found his face, she went perfectly still. No smile. No surprise. She just stared at him, her lips slightly parted, her hand hovering over the clasp of her cloak.

For an awful moment, Alex started to wonder if her feelings for him had changed, if she was dismayed to see him.

Then she dropped the books. They hit the porch with a resounding crash, the report of which only Alex seemed to notice. Papers scattered, some catching air and drifting past him down the steps.

“Aluck!”

With that, she launched herself into his arms. Alex caught her to his chest, knowing as he tightened his embrace that this was where she belonged, where she had always belonged.

Sobbing, trembling horribly, she wrapped both arms around his neck. “Aluck!”

Her pronunciation of his name was flat and imperfect, but to Alex, it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

Annie ... He swung with her in his arms, so happy he ached.

He didn’t care that everyone on the porch was staring. He didn’t care when he felt tears streaming down his cheeks. He held his world in his arms. He had been a fool to send her away.

He’d never make the mistake again.

Keeping one arm firmly around her, he drew her down the steps. When she spied her papers, which were scattering with the breeze, Alex caught her from going after them. “Leave them,” he told her.

She looked deeply into his eyes, hers swimming with tears.

Alex hauled her closer and caught her chin on the edge of his hand. “You won’t be needing them. We’re going home.”

“Home?”

“Home,” he assured her. “You and I and the baby. Home.

No more school. I’ll hire you a tutor.”

“Home, for always?”

“For always.”

Alex caught the gate with his hip and swung it open, unwilling to release his hold on her for even a moment. He glanced up the tree-lined street, then returned his gaze to her sweet face.

“Home, for always.”

As he said the words, he felt at peace as he hadn’t in months.

Home, where their future awaited them. Home, where fantasies could become realities. On impulse, he swung Annie into a waltz step. The breeze caught her cloak, lifting it around her. She let her head fall back, her expression blissful. Alex knew she was imagining they danced to music. The strange thing was, he thought he could hear it as well. Faint, lilting, elusive.

Annie’s song, and now his, magical notes only they could hear.