Dreamscape (29 page)

Humoring the odious man, Lanie faked a smile. “I’ve never played cribbage before.”

Richard beamed. “Then Jason and I must show you, shan’t we, Jason?”

Jason smiled genially. “I must see to your sister’s toe, Richard.”

In a show of concern, Cathy said, “Lanie, have you seen the terrible condition of Bertha’s toe? I’m sure two physician’s opinions would be better than one.” Remembering her manners she added hastily, “When you both have checked her over,
do
come back for cards.”

Jason chuckled. “I don’t think Bertha’s bunion is
that
serious.” He winked at Bertha before turning to Lanie with the smile lighting his eyes, “I won’t need your council, Dr. O’Keefe. Play cards at your leisure.”

Convinced as she was Jason’s wink held deeper meaning, Bertha chortled happily. She ate her supper feeling warm and tingly all over because Jason flat out told Lanie he didn’t need her. He wanted
them
to be alone.

“There you have it.” Richard smiled broadly. “By the time Jason and my sister return, Lanie, you shall be a cribbage proficient!” Richard was desperate to build a friendship with the black-haired beauty so she’d know where to turn after the good doctor ceased to be. That time was coming soon.

Cathy stabbed at her roast pork, certain that Jason’s houseguest was ruining all their well-laid plans.

Chapter 23

“Now, let’s have a look at your foot.” Jason motioned to the settee in his office. He pulled up a stool and waited for Bertha to take her shoe and stocking off. She finished and stuck her foot at him, her eyes darting from him to the array of medicines and other curiosities around the room.

“Do you see, Jason? There are times when it aches so.” She nodded to the large brown bottle on the desk where he’d left it earlier. “You’ll give me more laudanum for the pain?”

He flexed her toes. Yes, she was growing a bunion. It was slight now but would worsen over time if she weren’t careful. He told her so. “Laudanum is a bit too strong for your problem here. I can write a receipt for a tincture of willow bark that will help.” He manipulated the joint. “I recommend you have your shoes made to your foot. Catalog shoes will do you more harm, so it’s wise to steer clear. Or take yourself in the back room of the mercantile and try the shoes on before you buy them.” He patted her foot and smiled. “A little care should keep this problem from worsening.”

Bertha felt her heart all aflutter. Out of the blue she said, “Have you made Cathy your wife yet?” She looked around the small office as if unwanted ears stood in the corners. “You know, in the truest sense of the word.”

Utterly stunned, Jason just looked at her.

Placing her hand on his arm, she whispered conspiratorially, “I know she’s told you she’s shy…”

The little matter of his being dead for one hundred and twenty years didn’t mean he couldn’t read a lady’s admiration when directed at him. Her cheeks were flushed. Bertha was infatuated with him and he’d been aware of that fact since his first trip to Atlanta. Having heard her lament the fact she wasn’t the one to marry him, he was certain he could use this affection to uncover their plans. His time was running out. By Lexie’s newspaper clippings, he’d disappear sometime in mid July, and it was already the tenth. This moment was important. “Are you suggesting otherwise?”

Her unnatural giggle pierced his ears. “Oh, fiddle-faddle, Jason, what a question!”

Making his mind up to play a game of his own, he set her foot down gently and took her hands in his. “Bertha, I’m in need of a confidant. Dare I hope you to be that person?”

Her equine face was radiant. “Please consider me a friend, Jason.”

“I shall.” He squeezed her hands. “You see, I’m afraid I live in a loveless marriage. No matter how I try, I can’t convince my bride to share my bed. I understand her hardships, Bertha, I genuinely do. I’ve seen what the war did to Atlanta.” He’d seen what ravages the war had inflicted on Georgia. The ghastly vision of scorched countryside and blasted cities of the south was one he’d never forget, His sincerity was very real when he added, “I can only imagine the terrible times she lived through, that
you
lived through.” Bertha looked like she might cry from her own miserable memories. He lightly caressed the backs of her hands with his thumbs.

The action charming her, she squeezed his fingers. “And you’ve been patient, Jason. I
know
you have.”

Nodding sadly, he said, “Yes, I’ve tried to give the time she needs to warm to the idea of sharing my bed.” Jason looked into her eyes and for the first time saw a hint of Margaret. He shook it off. This murderer was nothing like her gentle grandniece four times removed. “What can I do, Bertha, what can I do?”

Wanting in that moment to kiss Jason badly, Bertha said, “I’ve known my cousin nearly all of my life. I feel you should give her an ultimatum. Behave as a wife or face divorce.” Cathy would never share his bed. She hated him. Divorce would be her only option.

“Divorce? I hadn’t considered it. Men have needs. I have these needs.” He held her eyes then looked away as if embarrassed to be speaking so freely. “I shouldn’t be speaking this plainly to a lady of your delicate sensibilities. Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing
you
could say that would offend me.” Quite the contrary. Having seen for herself just how he relieved those male needs, listening to him talk of it now with that image still fresh in her mind gave her a warm feeling in her special place.

Meeting her eyes again, he said, “I suppose were I to call her hand, she may very well come to me grudgingly to avoid divorce. But I want no unwilling woman in my bed, Bertha. I want to share my love.”

Jason thought she looked like a pot ready to boil over.

Her eyes misted. “Do you still love Cathy?”

“Had you asked two months ago, I would have said yes. But in my heart I no longer know.” He searched her eyes. “Bertha, I just don’t know anymore.”

The door burst open just as she was about to speak her own feelings. It was Cathy, and seeing her at this precious heartfelt moment, Bertha never felt such hatred before. How
dare
she spoil it?

Cathy came through the doorway speaking, “Jason, are you finished yet? We simply can’t play a good game with three alone…” Catching sight of the hastily dropped hands and Bertha’s teary eyes, Cathy Stopped midsentence, looked from one to the other, and asked, “How serious
is
this bunion?”

* * * *

Pouring another sherry for himself, Richard raised his brows and his glass. “Care to join me?”

Lanie smiled. “No, thank you. I need to keep my head to play cards.”

Richard laughed. “And such a pretty head at that.”

She laughed uncomfortably.

He took a seat at the card table, not where Cathy had originally placed him, but next to the raven beauty. “Lanie, I hope you consider me your friend.”

Lanie looked him in the eye. She wanted nothing more than to confront him with the knowledge she had. Instead she said, “I do, Richard.”

He smiled. Brother and sister shared familial similarities around the eyes and nose. Because she possessed an overlong face with a high forehead, Bertha’s broad, toothy smile detracted from her already disproportionate features. Richard had apparently emerged from the other end of the gene pool. While not a particularly handsome man, his smile actually enhanced his appearance. If she didn’t know him for the murderer he was, she might have thought his plain features pleasant enough.

Laying a hand atop hers, his tone was understanding. “I know you’ve suffered a terrible loss at the death of your father. Should you ever have need, my dear, please do not hesitate to call upon me.”

Her skin was crawling, and it took effort not to pull away. “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you, Richard.”

He proceeded to regale her with amusing tales of his life in Atlanta before the war. After enough time passed to conceal her revulsion, Lanie slipped her hand from his to shuffle the cards for the fourth time.

Alone with Lanie now, Richard had no doubts whatsoever. He wanted her for himself pure and simple. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman since loving Rosalee. They’d planned to move to New Orleans where she’d be considered Creole. With only a nigra great-grandma, she was as good as white anyway. Remembering how his father sold her off in the middle of the night still brought a pang. All he’d heard was she’d been sold to a whore house somewhere in Savannah. He frowned inside. He alone knew she’d been no whore. He pushed the sad recollections aside and focused his thoughts instead on the raven-haired beauty. That she didn’t shrink from this small advance gave him hope. That she stayed suggested she approved of his touch. Yes, as her husband he would do more than touch her, he would cherish her. Picturing himself wrapped in her naked arms, he felt himself get hard.

Addy had left the teacart with a service for lemonade. Lanie got up to pour herself a glass. Making small talk, she commented over her shoulder “I do hope your sister’s toe is all right.”

Richard chuckled. “She’s in capable hands. Knowing my sister like I do, I’m sure it’s far less worrisome than she lets on.” Lanie stood in a sunbeam streaming through the window and the light made sensual silhouettes of sleek upper arms covered by her gossamer sleeves. With her back to him he looked as long as he liked, the view enhanced by the erotic imagery foremost on his mind.

He sipped his sherry, thoroughly enjoying the heaviness of his balls. He needed to act quickly with Lanie to plant seeds for their future. Tomorrow they’d finally be rid of Jason. Weeks from now Cathy would declare him dead. After that, he’d console her broken heart by marrying her. Would six months as man and wife be long enough or was a year better? Six months married to Cathy was definitely long enough. Picturing the long stairway just outside the door, he smiled in his glass remembering how they’d disposed of the governess they didn’t care for when they were children.
Ladies needed to be extra careful with their abundant skirts.
His Papa always told his Mama that.

* * * *

Despite the fact he’d just left Bertha and Cathy in his office, Jason found himself in the gazebo fully aware of having played an hour of cribbage and saying his good nights afterward. It was a very quiet night. By the faint light in the east, it had to be nearly three o’clock in the morning.

He heard running down the path, and a panting Lanie said, “There you are.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I heard doors opening and closing.”

“No doubt Cathy and Richard’s nightly tryst,” he commented blandly.

“I heard Bertha, too. The three of them arranged to meet in the study where no one would hear them. Come on.” She held out her hand. “Maybe we can listen outside the window again.”

They hurried to the side of the house. Easing along the shrubbery with its sharp, newly trimmed branches, they came to the window just as a lamp was lit from within.

“Bertie, why on earth did you wake us at this hour?” Richard yawned.

His yawn contagious, Cathy yawned as well. “Yes, what is this all about?” She asked rubbing her eyes. Having spent most of the night in Richard’s room before she returned to her own, Cathy had just drifted off to sleep when Bertha knocked.

“I won’t let you kill him tomorrow,” Bertha told them defiantly.

Cathy looked at her. Had Bertha lost her mind? “What are you talking about? This has been planned for months.”

“Well, I’ve changed my mind.” She shook her head. “I won’t let you.”

Anger rising, Cathy was incredulous. “You’ve
changed
your
mind?
Pointing at the desk she reminded her, “
You
helped us figure out how to open that drawer for the gun last week!
You
suggested we get rid of Addy the same day.”

It was far too early for these histrionics. To Cathy, Richard said, “Lower your voice or we’ll lose everything.” Turning to his sister, he added calmly, “We’ll do it tomorrow, dear. We’ve watched the people in this house for two weeks. Tomorrow is market day. The cook, Addy, and Patrick will be gone until the afternoon. There is no going back now.”

“It’s not right.” She rounded on Cathy. “Divorce him. You don’t want to be married to him anyway.”

Cathy hissed. “I never did! But I haven’t put up with his sniffing at my skirts for four months so you could back down
now
. I can’t stand the sight of the hopeful jackass! You
know
that. I told you about all those times he tried to bed me.”

Richard shushed. “Calm down, Nettie.”

She lowered her voice, but the outrage was still there. “Your brother and I
love
each other. The Bowen fortune will allow us
all
to live well. It’s our right!”

Frustrated, Bertha’s eyes brimmed with tears. “He should have been mine from the start. I told you both, but you wouldn’t listen. Divorce him, Cathy. Jason will marry me and we’ll share the money with the two of you. You know I will!”