Annie's Song (24 page)

Her mouth thinned into a mutinous line. Taking care not to exert too much pressure, Alex tightened his arm around her waist and drew her a little more snugly against him. She raised her chin, the picture of defiance. In response, he began to move around the room again, forcing her to move with him. “Whisper it to me, Annie love. I know very well you can.”

“Oh, Master Alex, have a pity!”

He smiled slowly into Annie’s worried eyes. “Tell me no, Annie, or dance with me until dark. Your choice.”

He saw her mouth tighten. Then she swallowed. Looking down at her, seeing the struggle she was going through, Alex felt his whole body tense. Fixing her gaze on one of his shirt buttons, she finally parted her lips. And then, so quickly he almost missed it, she formed the word, “No.”

A burning sensation crawled up the back of Alex’s throat. From her stony expression, he knew she hated him a little for forcing the issue, but he didn’t care. By winning this small battle, he had claimed a large victory for both of them.

When he released her, she staggered at the sudden lack of support. Alex caught her elbow to steady her. When her beautiful eyes met his again, he touched a fingertip lightly to her cheek.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

After leaving Annie, Alex closeted himself in his study to update his books. That order of business occupied him until lunch, which he ate at his desk. When the maid had cleared away the mess, he rocked back in his chair and propped his feet on his desktop, his folded arms tucked behind his head. Gazing thoughtfully into space, he contemplated yet another problem that involved Annie, one that, until this moment, he hadn’t allowed himself to consider overmuch.

How could a man woo a timid deaf girl?

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He allowed himself a few minutes to recall how he had felt while dancing with her in the attic yesterday, and he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he wanted her in his arms again. It was as simple and as complicated as that. The challenge would be to lure Annie back into his embrace. Judging by her reaction to their waltz that morning, she wasn’t going to be an enthusiastic party to any sort of physical closeness.

Ordinarily, Alex might have gone about things in the usual way, but the direct approach wouldn’t work on Annie, and he knew it. For one, she was frightened of him after what Douglas had done to her, and understandably so. For another, her life until now had not prepared her for openness. Her parents had done such a thorough job of keeping Annie and her affliction in the background of their lives that they had made her guarded and secretive as well.

Seduction was his ultimate aim. The question was, how should he go about it? Several minutes passed, during which Alex conceived and discarded several ideas. Then a slow smile touched his mouth. How did a man seduce any woman? He enticed her, of course, with something he knew she couldn’t resist.

That afternoon when Maddy came downstairs to oversee the maids in their various household tasks, Annie trailed along behind her as she had been doing for well over a week, the only difference being that today there was a watcher in the house. When he saw that his wife was downstairs, he retired to his study, leaving the door carefully ajar.

Taking up his position in his favorite chair, Alex upended the cooking pot that he had taken from the kitchen. Clamping the pot firmly between his knees, he began to pound on its bottom with a large metal spoon. The resultant sound raised a din to wake the dead. Not satisfied with the tone, he repositioned the pot until the percussion produced a high-pitched ping. Having warned Maddy, the maids, and Frederick in advance, Alex knew that none of them would seek out the source of the sound. Only one person would come ... if she could hear the noise.

Ping! Ping! Plunk! It was, without question, a godawful ruckus that he was raising, and he felt absolutely ridiculous. A grown man banging on a pot? He only prayed it would work. Forcing himself not to look toward the door, he pounded incessantly on the kettle, uncertain if Annie could even hear it.

He had about given up hope when he glimpsed movement from the corner of his eye. With renewed enthusiasm, he beat the pot, struggling not to reveal his elation by smiling. In a moment, Annie’s worn shoes came into view, and he knew she was standing only a few feet away. He continued to wield the spoon, pretending he hadn’t seen her.

Drawn to the noise like metal shavings to a magnet, she came closer. Then closer still. Finally Alex allowed himself to look up. The expression on her face made making a fool of himself worth the embarrassment. Eyes huge and bewildered, she stood there in thrall, her gaze riveted to the spoon.

Alex allowed himself to grin, albeit only slightly, and stopped pounding. At the silence, she jerked and fixed her gaze on him. He held the spoon out to her.

“Want to have a go at it?”

The yearning reflected in her eyes was unmistakable. Remembering what James had told him about Annie’s embarrassing behavior years ago over an organ at church, Alex felt his heart catch. Sound. To Annie, it was elusive and infrequent, a miracle that occasionally broke through the wall of silence that enveloped her. As a child, to her parents’ humiliation and her own damnation, she hadn’t been able to resist its lure in church and had pressed herself against the organ, making what her father had called
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“animalistic noises.” As an adult, she was still helplessly drawn to it. Sound. A priceless gift to someone like Annie, and one that he could give her.

Watching the myriad emotions that crossed her face, Alex almost felt ashamed of himself for using sound as a seductive lure. Almost. She was his wife, and by fair means or foul, he meant for this to be more than a sham marriage, not just for his own sake, but hers. Given her affliction, she might never be able to lead a completely normal life, but he could give her something damned close. Love, laughter, companionship. Soon they would even have a child to raise. Annie was going to play an active role as its mother. He would see to that.

Alex held out the spoon, tempting her without mercy and with only a twinge of conscience. Her lovely eyes went stormy gray with wariness. But he also saw yearning. A yearning so sharp it made him ache for her. In his hand, he held magic. All she had to do was reach out and take it.

Her whole body trembled as she came closer and reached out to grasp the spoon handle. Their fingertips brushed in the exchange, an electrical feeling to Alex and clearly an unsettling one for her.

“Go ahead. Pound on it,” he encouraged her.

She drew her gaze from his mouth back to the pot. A glint of excitement came into her eyes. Apparently reluctant to come too close, she leaned forward at the waist to clobber the pot. At the ensuing clank, she blinked. Actually blinked. Alex nearly shouted with jubilation.

“Go ahead! It won’t bite you.” And neither will I, he silently vowed. He couldn’t ruin this for her, not today. Maybe not ever. So much for seduction.

His throat tightened as he watched her smack the kettle bottom again. At the resultant sound, an amazed look swept over her face. Then she smiled. The radiance of that smile so transformed her face that all Alex could do was stare. She lifted her gaze to his, and a feeling arced between them that had nothing to do with seduction and everything to do with budding friendship.

For Alex, it had to be enough. For Annie, it was a new beginning.

That evening, Annie expected to be served her supper in the nursery as usual, but instead Maddy escorted her downstairs and into the dining room. Though Annie had never been in the room directly before a meal, she had visited there several times with Maddy during the day. The room’s hominess and sunshine-yellow accents had always appealed to her, probably because the color reminded her of being outdoors, which she sorely missed. A stone fireplace ran the length of one wall, its simplicity in keeping with the decor. Instead of Irish lace, the sideboard sported a simple, embroidered scarf with a tatted border. Upon it was arranged an assortment of rose-patterned china, utilitarian serving utensils, and a teapot with chipped gilt trim.

Despite its large dimensions, the room gave off an air of warmth, filling Annie’s mind with visions of cheerful fires on cold winter evenings and a close-knit family gathering for hearty meals. Alex reclined on a chair at one end of the long table, his hair agleam in the light from a crystal chandelier, the room’s only
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claim to elegance. With one arm hooked over the chair back and one booted foot propped on his opposite knee, he looked slightly bored and a whole lot impatient. When he spotted her coming into the room, he pushed quickly to his feet. Stepping around the table, he extended one large hand to her.

In keeping with the room, he was comfortably dressed in a V-necked silk shirt the color of fresh cream, his biscuit-brown riding pants tucked into tall, umber boots. As he approached, Annie took the moment to study him, noticing yet again that he was nothing at all like her papa or the men she’d seen visiting at her parents’ house. Instead of the ruffles, jeweled stickpins, and ornate watch chains that those gentlemen usually favored, he wore a plain gold belt buckle and a simple watch chain, the latter tucked through a belt loop. No fancy silk vest. No sparkly rings. No funny-smelling perfume.

When Annie looked at Alex, she thought of sunshine and fresh air, not drawing rooms with the heavy draperies she so despised hanging over the windows. His tawny hair lay in wispy, sun-streaked waves over his forehead, slightly tousled, as though recently stirred by the wind. The collar of his shirt hung open, revealing the burnished planes of his chest. He even walked as if he were outdoors, with a careless air, his stride long and loose, his arms slightly bent and swinging at his sides.

When he came to a stop in front of her, he took her hand, then drew her back to the table, pulling out a chair to the immediate left of his. Realizing that the table had been set for two, she lifted a startled gaze to his. At home, she’d never been allowed to take her meals in the dining room.

“I think a wife should take the evening meal with her husband. Don’t you?”

Annie felt as if the floor had vanished from beneath ha feet. She stood there staring up at him in shocked amazement, convinced she must have misread his words. The disgruntled look on his face told her otherwise. He had obviously spoken without forethought and hadn’t meant to divulge that bit of information to her.

Gently grasping her shoulder, he guided her around the chair, pushed her onto the seat, and then leaned down to lightly kiss her hair as he scooted her forward. Sitting sideways as she was, Annie’s left arm was toward the table, and in her discomfiture, she accidentally bumped her elbow against her teacup. Alex shot out a hand to rescue the china, his eyebrows arched in mocking query. He had clearly decided that the best way to handle this situation was to make a joke of it.

“I take it that is not the best news you’ve received all day.” At her horrified look, he asked, “Surely not all week?” When her expression remained one of appalled incredulity, he said, “I know I have my faults as a husband, but surely I’m not as bad as all that?” Unable to tear her gaze from his, Annie carefully resettled her elbow near the edge of her plate. His wife? He had to be lying. He simply had to be. True, she knew very little about weddings. But she wasn’t that ignorant about them. Not so ignorant that she could have participated in one without knowing it.Not that long ago, her older sister Elise had been married. The ceremony, which Annie hadn’t been allowed to attend, had been conducted at the church, and all manner of elaborate preparations had taken place beforehand, not the least of which had been the creation of a beautiful white wedding dress for the bride. As Annie recalled, her parents’ house had been filled to the brim with flowers as well, and after the wedding, a horde of people had come there for a party, drinking punch, eating cake, and watching Elise open gifts. Lots of gifts. More gifts than Annie had ever seen at one time, even under the Christmas tree.

Alex resumed his place at the head of the table, his posture relaxed, his manner one of resignation laced with self-derision. Resting an elbow on the arm of the chair, he tugged on his ear and regarded her in thoughtful silence. After a long moment, he said, “I really didn’t intend to break it to you in quite that way, Annie. It was thoughtless of me, and I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”

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Upset? It was all Annie could do not to burst into angry tears. If she was married, then why hadn’t her mama made her a dress? And why hadn’t she gotten bunches of presents? She liked presents, and she liked pretty dresses even more. No party, no cake, no ceremony at the church. Nothing. How could she possibly be married?

Alex was beginning to look a little upset himself. Annie thought maybe it was because he knew she was about to cry. Trying to suppress the urge, she lowered her gaze to her hands where they rested on her lap. Then she noticed the grass-stain spots on her stockings, and the pressure behind her eyes grew even worse. Unlike her sisters, she never got anything. Instead of a white gown, silk slippers, and lace to wear over her face, all she got was icky old frocks, scuffed shoes, and stained stockings.

And no presents! Nary a one. That burned her most of all.

Alex caught her chin and forced her face up. Annie glared at him through a shimmer of tears. A muscle along his jaw started to twitch. “Sweetheart, don’t cry. Just because I—well, we’ve been married all along, right? Just because you realize it now, that doesn’t mean anything’s going to change.” He leaned down so he could look directly into her eyes, his manner cajoling. “I realize that you had an extremely unpleasant experience with Douglas.”

Douglas? Annie didn’t know a Douglas. She stared at him in bewilderment, wishing he’d stick to the subject, which in her mind was the pretty dress and gifts that she’d been cheated out of. And just when had their wedding taken place? she wanted to know. Had she somehow missed out on that as well?