I PULLED MY gaze away from my friend and looked toward my daughter running and laughing in the plush green grass with her nanny, Jane. Sipping my sangria, I contemplated calling down and reminding them that a refined Southern lady didn’t chase little boys, even if she was only three, almost four years old. And then I remembered Russell’s insistence upon allowing Alexandria to experience childhood.
Of course she’d experience childhood. Everyone did.
It didn’t matter; I couldn’t make him happy.
The constant tension, the lies, the masks—it all mocked me, reminding me of my duty, my birthright, and my slow death. Turning back to Suzy, I concentrated on my friend’s words and tried not to think about how sweaty or dirty Alexandria would become. It was Jane’s doing. She’d be the one to give her a bath.
I shook my head. It was too hot to run. It was simply too hot.
The humid Savannah air filled my lungs, weighing me down, suffocating me. I wasn’t even thirty and I was old, not just physically, not just mentally, but socially and spiritually. Nothing within me held the light and colors of youth. I was the shell of their creation and yet it was all I knew, all I’d ever known.
Who am I to assume it could be any better?
I blinked my eyes as sun filtered through the pagoda and listened to my best friend. Sometimes the suffering of others helped me reevaluate my own. I still had time to save my marriage; hers was beyond repair. I wanted to save mine, not only because of the fallout Suzanna was experiencing, but also because it was my duty, my job, and I couldn’t face my father if I failed. It was plain and simple—and sad—but even as an adult, I wanted him to be proud. I wanted him to be content with his only heir. I couldn’t help that I wasn’t a male, but I could do my best in my non-existent brother’s stead.
“Are you sure Jane won’t let them get too close to the lake?” Suzanna asked. “I don’t know what it is, but I’ve always been wary of it.”
This time, we both looked out over the stone patio to the lawn below. It was easily another hundred yards to the lake from where the children ran circles around Alexandria’s nanny.
I took another sip of my sangria, thankful I wasn’t the one running after the children. Russell might insist on childish activities, but I didn’t want to be the one participating. I would just as soon get my exercise running on the treadmill or swimming. “We used to swim in it when we were their age.” The memory brought a smile to both of our faces.
“I don’t know why. I mean the pool is so much nicer.”
“Honey,” I said, drawing out the endearment with just the right amount of Southern drawl, “how are you doing?” My second glass of sangria gave me the courage to attack head-on the subject we’d avoided thus far.
Suzanna shrugged. “At least I’m sitting here at Montague Manor with my best friend. The whole world hasn’t ostracized me.”
“No one is ostracizing you. It’s not your fault. Besides, I never liked Marcel anyway.”
“I know you’re just saying that.” She looked down and then up. “No one really knew him. But still, I’m the one who has to explain to Bryce that his father isn’t coming home. Every night I have to…” Her words faded away as she straightened her neck and pressed her lips together.
It didn’t matter how many times I held her hand and told her that she wasn’t the talk of every social gathering or that the women she considered friends weren’t saying terrible things about her behind her back, she knew I was lying. She knew the women we considered friends and have for most of our lives were like rabid beasts when it came to scandal.
“This isn’t the turn of the century. I don’t see why divorce is still considered such a failure.”
I leaned back and inhaled. My chest rose and fell yet the air didn’t come. It was this world—the world we were born into—where life was unforgiving, and if I didn’t do something soon, I would become another one of its casualties.
“Suzy,” I said with my painted-on smile, “you’re here. Russell and I are here for you. My mother loves you like the daughter she never had.”
“Stop that. You know that’s not true.”
I widened my eyes. “It is true. It’s fine. This will blow over.”
“I just worry about what it’ll do to Bryce. He needs a father.”
“Marcel is really giving up custody?”
Suzanna nodded. “He…” She looked all directions. “Where are your parents?”
“Mother’s in the house and Father’s at work.”
“I swear, he’s going to work at Montague until he dies. I thought maybe after Russell was involved for awhile, he’d slow down.”
I pursed my lips. “And give up control? Have you met my father?”
Suzanna grinned. “What about Russell?”
“He’s at Montague too.” I leaned forward, studying her serious expression. “What is it?”
“Marcel wants a paternity test.”
I gasped. “No! He couldn’t think—”
“He does. He’s thought it for years.” Her hands flew to her chest. “Can you imagine?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine. Sex wasn’t that great in the first place. Why would he ever suspect that Suzanna would want to do it with someone else?
“Is that why he left?”
Her head bobbed as she replied, “All those years of knowing about him and his flavor of the month and he had the audacity to accuse me. He threatened to make it public if I didn’t agree to the divorce.”
“Make what public? Let him have the test. I mean look at Bryce. He looks like Marcel—blond hair and gray eyes. He even acts like him.”
Suzanna laughed. “Oh, I hope not. I hope he doesn’t act like him.”
“The good him,” I corrected. “But Bryce does have a temper.”
“So does Marcel. He just does a better job of hiding it than some.”
I reached out and covered Suzanna’s hand. “Honey, I’m sorry. I know you don’t deserve that. Marcel just couldn’t handle it. I mean the Carmichael name requires a lot of… pretense.”
“Russell seems to be handling the Montague name all right.”
I shrugged and looked out to the children now sitting in a circle, engrossed in some story that Jane was telling. “I swear, she fills those children’s heads with the strangest ideas. Sometimes I wonder if she’s good for Alexandria.”
Suzanna smiled. “Oh, on days like today, when Bryce’s nanny is off, I’m perfectly happy with whatever stories she wants to tell.”
“Is Bryce doing all right?”
“He is. My father’s been a big help—when he’s not giving me the evil stare.”
A chill ran through me. Both of our fathers had that look down to a science. In a room of people, they could telegraph it in some way that blinded everyone else in the room, but didn’t stop it from reaching its desired recipient. Whether the target was my mother or I, when it came to Charles Montague II, the arrival was paralyzing.
RUSSELL’S GAZE NARROWED as he opened our bedroom door and our eyes met. Trying to ignore his stare, I concentrated on the lotion I meticulously rubbed into my hands. After my shower, I’d used the same lotion on my arms and legs. The rosewood scent lingered around me like a cloud. I waited for him to speak, to say something, but as the silence grew, I finally turned his direction.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what? Like I’m surprised to find my wife in a nightgown in our bed?”
I sighed, placed the lotion bottle on my nightstand and pulled the blankets to my waist. Resting my head lightly against the headboard, I allowed my long brown hair to flow over my shoulders and said, “Russell, please.”
“Did you say goodnight to Alexandria?”
“Earlier, yes.”
“Earlier, when Jane took her for her bath, or earlier, once she was in bed?”
I reached for the light near the bed and turned the knob. “I can’t seem to do anything right in your eyes.”
“Why are you here? You haven’t been in our bedroom in a week?”
When I didn’t answer, his look of discontent morphed into a cocky grin. Standing straight, he bowed at the waist in a grand gesture. “Let me rephrase. Mrs. Collins, to what do I owe this pleasure? And don’t insult either of us with Southern charm. Try for once in your adult life to be honest.”
“My father.”
Russell shook his head and walked to the dresser. He didn’t say a word as he removed his watch and unbuttoned his shirt. Only two years my senior, Russell Collins was a handsome man, yet as he disrobed my blood turned to ice. The solid no longer flowed through my veins as I waited for his response.
“Your father? I guess I asked for the truth. So you’re telling me that I have Charles Montague II to thank for a woman in my bed?” He scoffed. “If I’d known he had that kind of power, I would’ve been more specific with my request.”
Though his insinuation hurt my pride, I continued with my honesty. “The staff told him I wasn’t sleeping in our room while you were in town.”
With his shirt now gone, Russell turned my way, walking closer and closer toward our bed. There was a time I found him attractive, maybe even sexually appealing. That time was over. “What did dear old Daddy tell you to do?”
I swallowed the bile that came with that answer. “He told me to make it right.”
“Aren’t you the perfect daughter? Daddy tells you to spread your legs and here you are.”
“Do you have to be so crude? I want to be with my husband. What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”
“No. It’s not,” I protested. “I can’t… I won’t… Suzanna was here today. Do you realize what the others are doing to her? They’re persecuting her, making up lies, shunning her. I’m a Montague. Our marriage can’t end like theirs. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“You’re pathetic. I don’t give a damn about Montague anymore. It’s not worth it.” He lifted his hands and gestured around. “This house, your father, the money…” His hands dropped. “There, I said it. I fucking said it. I don’t give a damn anymore about the money. I can’t live like this. I won’t. And furthermore, neither will Alexandria.”
With each insult, each word, my chin fell toward my chest… until the last phrase. I snapped my face toward his. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me. I’m taking her, and we’re leaving.”
“Y-You can’t. I-I can’t…” My chest ached. “…you know what the doctors said. You know I can’t have more children. She’s the only heir. She has to stay here.” My temples pounded. “And I don’t want you to leave.” I lowered one strap of my satin nightgown.
Russell’s laughter filled the room. “Good try, sweetheart. I might have fallen for that a year ago, but I’m done. I’m not fucking an ice princess just because her daddy told her to lie there and take it. Sex isn’t our only problem, and it sure as hell isn’t our solution.”
“We can’t get a divorce, and under no circumstances can Alexandria leave Montague Manor. She’s the only thing I’ve ever done right.”
“Whose words are you using, yours or his?”
Both, I was using both. My father blamed me when we first learned Alexandria was a girl. She was supposed to be a boy, a grandson—a Montague grandson. Then, when we learned there couldn’t be any more, that the complications with her birth were too extreme, she became my greatest accomplishment.
“She’s my daughter, our daughter,” I protested. “You can’t take her away from her mother. My father will never allow it. The courts won’t allow it.”
“Really? You’re going to let me drag this through court?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think I know too much about Montague Corporation and too much about this fucked-up family. Quiet and quick is the way this will be done. I don’t want any money. I have money. I don’t want a damn thing from this house or this family except my daughter.”
Lifting back the covers, I lowered my feet to the floor and steeled my expression. From the time I was a child, I knew how to use my looks and my body. Whether it was a pout or flirtation, I had it mastered. I could do alluring. It worked before. “Russell,” I whispered as I bravely walked toward him. “I’m sorry if you haven’t been happy, if I haven’t made you happy.” I lowered the other strap over my shoulder and let my nightgown fall to the floor. Stepping from the satin puddle, I walked fully nude toward my husband, my flesh covered in goose bumps as the cold air hardened my nipples. Feeling them tighten I looked down and then up. “See what you do to me, what you still do to me?”
My heart seized as he took a step toward me, his body’s reaction becoming more prominent. Reaching behind my neck, Russell fisted my hair and pulled my head back. With a deep guttural edge to his voice, he lowered his lips to my neck. “You’re a fucking goddess. You know that. You know how beautiful you are.” He shoved me backward as I fell against the bed. “It’s all on the outside. I’m done.”
He walked toward the bedroom door. “I have a business trip tomorrow, and when I get back, Alexandria and I are leaving.”
“Where are you going now?”
“There are over ten bedrooms in this place. I think I can find one.”
“But the staff—”
“I don’t give a fuck what you tell dear old Daddy.” He winked. “Don’t worry about Alexandria. I’ll take Jane too. Alexandria won’t even notice you’re missing.”
The door slammed, leaving me cold and alone. After a few minutes, I pulled myself together, put my nightgown back on and covered it with a robe. Making my way through the outer room of our suite, I opened the door and peered down the hallway. Thankfully it was empty. Quietly, I walked toward the stairs on my way to the wine cellar. If anyone saw me, I’d retrieve two glasses. They didn’t need to know one was for my right hand and the other for my left. Let them draw their own conclusions.
As I passed Alexandria’s door, a thin ray of light leaked into the hallway and I heard Russell’s voice.
“…I love you, and I’ll be back soon.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
She was nearly four, and her vocabulary had always been advanced.
“Remember what I said, you’re as pretty on the inside as you are on the outside.”
Alexandria’s laughter filtered through the open door. “Daddy, stop tickling me.”
“What’s the rest? Tell me,” he coaxed.
“My outside is pretty, too,” her little girl voice squealed over his laughter.
“That’s right, princess.”
I walked silently toward the stairs.