Heart of Glass (25 page)

He warmed to her smile. She was listening intently.

“You should be proud of what you’re doing, Colin. I know your father would be pleased.”

“You’re the one who would amaze him. He loved architecture above all things.”

She shook her head. “Not more than he loved
Belle Fleuve
or his family.”

“I couldn’t have done this without you, Kate.” Colin meant every word. Her cheeks flamed at the compliment.

“Come with me. I have a surprise,” he urged.

He waited as she turned down the lamp and followed him through the house. On impulse he took her hand and drew her along. Lit only by the milky wash of moonlight pouring in through the windows, the huge, silent house enfolded them as they moved toward the gallery.

He had asked Eugenie to set a simple table under the moonlight — nothing so extravagant as their wedding night supper, but the setting was still intimate and everything was ready when they stepped outside.

“Oh, Colin,” Kate turned to him with such delight that his heart tripped over itself.

“I remembered how much you enjoyed our dinner outdoors. I’m happy the weather has cooperated.”

He pulled her chair out for her, a simple feat, but one he hadn’t been able to manage the last time. Tonight there were no candles, no light other than the hurricane lamp in the middle of the table, but there were biscuits and jambalaya with sausage and rice, raisin pie, and even some of Eugenie’s dandelion wine.

Once he was seated he raised his glass. “Here’s to the completion of your plans.” They each took a sip. Hungrier than he’d thought, Colin ate heartily. “What will you do next?”

“I’ll have to see what Mr. Jamison has in mind. It will all depend on how well these plans are received.” She reached for a biscuit, broke it in half and slathered it with a generous hunk of butter. “I have collected a few periodicals that feature house design competitions. I’m going to enter.”

“Architectural competitions in women’s periodicals?”

“Who knows what a woman requires in a house better than another woman? Some winners are awarded prizes. Some have their plans printed in the publication.”

“Have you entered before?”

“Twice, but without any luck.”

“I’ll bet no one ever entered a set of plans for a steamboat house.”

“Nor will I.”

She laughed and he was glad he could make her happy.

They ate in silence for a few minutes until curiosity got the best of him.

“Will you have to see Stevens again? Or will Jamison handle him now?”

He tried to sound as if it didn’t matter and was shocked that it did — far more than he cared to admit.

Kate paused, appearing thoughtful. She took a sip of wine.

“I will probably have to see to him,” she said. “Mr. Jamison assigned me to the project. I have to see it through.”

When she slowly licked a bit of butter off the corner of her mouth, Colin pictured setting down his fork, getting up, and walking around the table. What would she do if he picked her up, carried her to the
garçonnière
, and locked her inside like a princess in one of the French fairy tales his mother used to read?

It would take a miracle for him to be able to carry her anywhere.

“Colin?”

It was a moment before he realized she had spoken.

He swallowed. “Pardon me. What did you just say?”

“I asked if you would care.”

“Care about what?”

“When I have to meet with Captain Stevens, will you care?”

How much should he reveal? No matter what their living arrangements, she was his wife. There was no shame in having proprietary feelings about her. Nothing wrong with being possessive, either. But he had never worn his heart on his sleeve or had such strong feelings for a woman.

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t be very happy about it,” he admitted.

She put down her fork, folded her hands at the edge of the table. “Why?”

“Because, as I told you the day I met him, I don’t like the man. I don’t trust him.”

“Trust him?”

“To keep his hands off you.”

She surprised him by laughing again.

“I doubt a man like Captain Stevens would find someone like me desirable,” she said.

“Any man would find you desirable, Kate.”

She went completely still and clenched her hands together so tightly her knuckles whitened. Silent seconds ticked by. When she finally spoke, he barely heard her.

“Do
you
find me desirable?”

He had no idea how they had started down this road but it was too late to backtrack. Her eyes were wide and blue behind her round spectacles. In the glow of the lamp’s flame, her hair was not only rich brown, but highlighted with copper and gold. The light shimmered on her moist lips. Her glasses magnified her thick lashes. She was trim, her slim figure emphasized by the expert cut of her black gown. Even the evening breeze off the river seemed to have stopped, waiting for his answer.

“Of course I do.”

The truth came easily. What would she do if he kissed her?
Really
kissed her? There was only one way to find out.

He waited until dinner was over. When they were finished he walked around to her side of the table.

“Are you tired?” he asked. When she stood and turned to him he was tempted to take the pins out of her hair and watch it fall around her shoulders.

“My eyes are tired.” She seemed in no hurry to leave. He reached down and turned out the flame on the lamp.

The moon was high, the gallery and land beyond bathed in silver light. The oaks were black, hulking shapes beneath the moonlight. Kate hadn’t moved. He reached for her glasses, slipped them off, and set them carefully on the table.

“Better?” he said.

She rubbed her eyes. “I can see well enough.” She didn’t sound so sure.

“You already know what I look like — tall, dark, and limping.”

“Oh, Colin. Don’t make fun of your injury. It was valiantly won.”

“Was it? How do you know?”

“I know you.”

“I’m luckier than many. They say over six hundred thousand Americans died in the war. That’s what happens when a country turns upon itself.” He paused and stared out at the silhouettes of the oaks, bent and twisted, raw and beautiful at the same time.

“I’m sorry to spoil the evening with such melancholy talk,” he said. “Thank you for putting up with my dark moods.”

“You seem happy tonight.”

“Pain stays as long as it’s nourished. What of you, Kate?”

“I’m a little better every day. Eugenie reminded me that God shows us the way out of our darkness.”

“Do you believe it?”

“Maybe He’s slowly lighting the way for us.”

Colin drew her into an embrace, prepared to release her if she
balked. To his surprise she slipped her arms around him as if she did it all the time.

“Are you happy here, Kate?”

“I’d be lying if I said I am as happy as before Amelie died. The world looks different to me now. I’ve learned we can’t force things to go our way. We hurt, we lose those we love, but we have to go on and learn to survive, to become someone new, someone hopefully stronger and wiser.”

“You don’t regret marrying me?”

“I’m glad we did the right thing.”

“So am I, and not just for the children. We’re good together, Kate. We’re partners. I like to think we’ve become more than friends.” He was surprised at how easily the words poured out of him.

“More than friends,” she whispered.

“I’ll admit seeing you with Stevens made me jealous.”

“You don’t have to be jealous of anyone, Colin.”

“Lately I’ve thought a lot about how much you willingly gave up for the children and me. You walked into this knowing you might never have a real marriage or children of your own and for that I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

She was staring into his eyes, her lips so close, so tempting that he found himself lusting after his own wife. He didn’t question when or how it happened, but he had fallen in love for the first time in his life.

“I married you willingly, Colin,” she whispered. “I …” She fell silent without completing her thought.

He pressed her lips with his, kissed her long and deep and held her close as their hearts beat as one. Kate didn’t protest. She returned his kiss with so much fire and spirit that he was afraid to let it go any further lest he lose control.

He lifted his head and gazed for a moment longer into her eyes. What was she thinking?

It didn’t matter. He’d said what he wanted to say and now he
had to leave before he broke his promise not to press her. She would come to him when she was ready.

“Thank you, Kate.” He hated to let her go. “For tonight. For the sacrifices you’ve made for my family. For your trust and faith in me. I thank you.”

He picked up his cane and followed the moonlit trail to the
garçonnière
, stunned to realize he’d fallen in love with his own wife.

K
ate somehow managed to walk back to the table and sit down. Her hand shook as she reached for her glasses. She had trouble slipping them on, and when she looked back down the path to the
garçonnière
, it looked empty. A moment later, lamplight bloomed in the window.

Her lips were still warm with the taste of his mouth and wine and moonlight. His kiss was so much more than she’d ever imagined. So much more.

More than friends
.

Was it a sin to long to sleep with a man she’d vowed to love and cherish for the rest of her life?

She spread her hands wide, palms down against the table, and tried to keep them from shaking. Her breath was ragged. Colin had left her wanting more. Trembling, Kate took a deep breath and tried to think of something else. Anything else.

For a second she considered clearing the table but was afraid she’d drop every dish, every glass, every last thing she touched.

Smoothing her hair back, Kate straightened her glasses and then traced her lips with her fingertips. She stared at the lamplight escaping the
garçonnière
window.

She left the gallery and went upstairs. Stopping to look in on the children, she found them sound asleep. She smoothed the covers over each of them and kissed them.

Kate undressed by moonlight and slipped on her nightgown. Seated on the edge of the bed, she pulled the pins from her hair
and brushed it out before she carefully removed her glasses and set them on the bedside table.

As she turned down the bed, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Silhouetted by the moon she appeared as elusive as a shadow and nothing at all like a woman made of flesh and blood.

C
olin sat on his bed, an open book forgotten in his lap. He wanted to blame the full moon for his inability to sleep. The truth? Thoughts of Kate kept him awake and restless.

It was bound to happen sooner or later, he supposed. They were a man and a woman living in close quarters, sharing meals and plans and children.

Was this how his father and mother came to fall in love?

A knock at the door interrupted his musing.

“Simon? Come in.” Was there an emergency? It was the first thing that came to mind with all the new people here. One small disaster would be a setback.

The door opened slowly. It wasn’t Simon. It was Kate. She was wearing a long white nightgown that swept the ground. Prim and full, it covered her from the lace at her throat to the cuffs of her long sleeves to her toes. She clutched an emerald shawl around her shoulders. Her hair was down, her glasses gone. There were spots of color on her cheeks, otherwise her skin was as pale as her gown.

“Is everything all right?” He struggled to his feet and crossed the room. “Damian? Marie? Are they all right?”

Kate nodded. She shivered and her hands tightened on her shawl. What catastrophe had sent her running to him barely clothed?

“Kate?” He touched her shoulder. “Please, tell me what’s happened.”

She blinked and looked around as if she had no idea where she was.

“I will be all right. I’m sure I will be all right.” She spoke so softly, he had to lean closer. “Right now I’m just frightened.”

“Of what? Did someone break into the house?” He thought of all the men he hired. He didn’t know them. Not really.

“No. It’s nothing like that.”

His erratic heartbeat slowed. Maybe she was upset about her work. What else mattered so much after the children?

“Are you apprehensive about sending your plans to Jamison tomorrow?”

“No. Of course not.”

“What then? What has you trembling this way?”

“The unknown.”

“Kate, why don’t you sit down?”

“I don’t want to sit down.”

She’d come unhinged. Why else would she be standing here in her nightclothes, barefoot, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders, her big blue eyes wide and frightened?

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come,” she turned.

He stopped her. “Whatever the matter is, we can work it out, Kate.”

“Yes. For you are my partner. My friend. More than a friend, you said.”

He took her hand and led her over to a chair. She refused to sit.

“What did you mean by that, Colin? When you said that we are more than friends, what did you mean?”

“I meant … well, I meant that what we have here is something special. We made an agreement, we …”

“We spoke our vows before a man of God.”

“Yes. We did.”

“We are more than friends. I am your wife. And you are my husband.”

“That’s right.” Heat began to creep up his neck.

“The way you kissed me tonight … it was not the way friends kiss.”

“I’m so sorry, Kate. I owe you an apology. I don’t know what came over me.”

She pressed her palm against his shirtfront, took a step closer, and stared into his eyes.

“It came over me too, or didn’t you notice?”

“Oh, I noticed, Kate. It must have been the setting, the moonlight.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “Or perhaps I am the sort of woman who clings to silly female notions of hearts and flowers and romance after all.”

“You don’t sound very certain.”

“I’m not certain of anything right now. I’m not even sure I should be here.”