Her Defiant Heart (22 page)

Christian frowned. "Do you mean that you discussed the amount of your gift with other staff?"

"Oh, no," she said quickly, darting a glance at him. "I wouldn't. I didn't. It's just that Mary Margaret and Carrie were talking about how they were going to spend their money, and I realized that you had given me so much more than either of them. It did not seem right."

Christian leaned the poker against the fireplace and slipped his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. "And what did you think?"

"I thought there must be a mistake."

He shook his head. A lock of copper-streaked hair fell forward. "No mistake."

"Oh."

"What are you thinking now?" As if he couldn't guess. Christian realized he was becoming rather adept at understanding how her mind worked. He was not certain he had any particular liking for the talent.

Jenny lifted her chin and met his gaze directly. "I am thinking you mean to insult me. This money isn't a gift at all. It's a bribe."

"A bribe. You think I am paying you to keep quiet about what happened in my bedchamber. Is that it?"

"Aren't you?" she asked. There was a touch of defiance in her husky voice.

"No. I don't care who you tell. In fact, I'm wondering why you have kept your silence this long. You've certainly had the opportunity to tell someone. I left you alone with Mrs. Brandywine and Dr. Turner. You could have told either of them how close you came to being raped. Why didn't you?"

Jenny turned her head and gave Christian her three-quarter profile. From where she stood, she could see a pool of yellow light from a street lamp illuminating the snowy sidewalk. She stared at that. "I don't want to be dismissed," she said finally. "I don't have anywhere to go. I imagined that you would send me packing if I said anything; therefore, it was in my interest to say nothing. It still is. The money is unnecessary."

"The money is
not
a bribe," he repeated. "And I don't know if I would have dismissed you or not."

She snorted indelicately. "Of course you would have let me go. After all, according to you I was the one who lured you into bed. I was the one at fault for trying to comfort you. You were simply taking what I offered."

"Isn't that all true?"

Jenny's spine stiffened, but she answered quietly, simply. "You know it's not." She drew a deep, calming breath and released it slowly. "If the money wasn't a bribe, then what was it?"

"Talk to Mrs. Brandywine," he said dismissively. "She's the one who suggested the amount."

That brought Jenny's head around. "But why—"

"Something about you needing clothes."

When Jenny had removed herself, Christian slumped into his armchair and kicked the ottoman out of the way. He stared at the spot he had last seen her for a long time before closing his eyes. He pressed his fingertips against his temple and the ache that was forming there.

What in God's name was he supposed to do about Jenny Holland?

* * *

Susan Turner came awake by slow degrees, stretching with feline grace. A sleepy glance at the window and the muted sunlight beyond the drapes assured her she had an hour or so before Beth woke. She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand and smiled to herself as she remembered Scott's delicious lovemaking. He'd been fierce and gentle by turns, and Susan had never felt more wanton or adored. She giggled. Happy Christmas indeed.

Warming the soles of her feet against Scott's calves, she raised herself on one elbow and studied her husband's angular features. She wondered how long he had been awake or if he had slept at all. There was a small crease between his brows, and his blue eyes were clouded with the uneasiness of his thoughts. He was staring at the patterned ivory paper on the far wall and one corner of his mouth was lifted in a pensive manner. A lock of his fair hair had fallen over his forehead. Susan brushed it back and then continued to smooth it with her fingertips.

"What are you thinking?" she asked. "Hmm?" She sighed when he did not respond. He was miles away, and she doubted that he was thinking about their lovemaking. "I've decided that an affair would be just the thing for each of us."

"Mmm-hmm."

"There is another man, Scott. Someone I've met only recently, but I know he would leave his wife if I asked him to. I am not certain I want that. I could be content just having him over a few afternoons each week. Would you mind?"

Scott's frown deepened. He blinked twice and dragged his unfocused stare away from the far wall. When he spoke, his voice was husky from his long silence. "Did you just say something about the affair?"

"It's not important, darling. I was trying to get your attention." Susan kissed his temple and then fit herself against him. Her head lay in the curve of his shoulder. "Have you been awake long?"

"No, not long." His arm went around her. His fingers trailed back and forth along the length of her bare arm. "You?"

"Just a few minutes. It seemed as if you were adrift in a sea your own thoughts. I decided it was time to reel you back in. What were you thinking about?"

"Jenny Holland."

"Oh." Susan considered that. "Should I be jealous?"

"God, no!"

"That was rather vehement," she said. "Are you quite certain?"

Scott turned on his wife and kissed her deeply. If that did not convince her, he thought, nothing would. "Certain," he said, sipping on her rosy lips.

Susan pushed gently at Scott's shoulders. "Dearest," she said softly. "I was teasing." She snuggled against him again. "Tell me about her. Why does she still trouble you?"

He did not answer Susan's question directly. "You saw her last night," he said instead. "What did you think?"

"I don't know that I'm qualified to have an opinion. She hardly did more than flit in and out of the dining room while we were eating. Oh, and there was the time she served tea in the parlor when Beth and Christian were both on the floor with the kitten."

"You noticed her then? So did I. What did you see?"

Susan did not have to think before she answered. The young woman's face was clear in her mind. "Pain," she said. "Withdrawal... as if she were hurt and turning away from it."

Scott nodded. "That's what I saw. What was it, do you suppose, that caused her to look that way?"

"I'm sure I don't know."

"I'm sure I don't know either." Scott sighed. "Do you think Christian and I did the right thing by her?"

"If you are really asking me if she belongs in a lunatic ward, then my answer is absolutely not. If you're wondering if she should be staying in Christian's house, in his employ, then I am not as certain. Perhaps you will think I am being fanciful, but I think Christian is extraordinarily aware of Jenny Holland."

"Oh?" He was of a similar opinion but not prepared to share it quite yet. What Susan thought mattered to him. "Why do you say that?"

"He watches her," she explained simply. "And he seems to know when she is watching him. While we were his guests last night I found myself entertaining the notion that Christian was being especially attentive to us, to Beth—I don't know, to
prove
something, I suppose."

"To prove something to us?"

"No. He was proving something to Jenny." Susan raised her hands in a helpless gesture. "I really can't explain it any better than that. And don't ask me what he was bent on proving. I haven't any idea. Just as I have no idea why he should want to do it in the first place."

"And Jenny? You think she is aware of him?"

Susan laughed softly. "Oh, darling, do you know any woman who isn't?"

Scott grunted. "I don't like it, Susan. Nothing good can possibly come of it. She's too fragile, and he should know better."

"Scott," she said gently, placing her hand over his heart. "If you feel so strongly about it, why not talk to Christian? Anyway, I merely said that Christian was aware of Jenny, not that he had any intentions of acting on it. She is in his care, under his roof, and that counts for something with Chris. Credit him with at least a few finer instincts."

Scott was not convinced. "If only we knew more about her," he said, laying his hand over Susan's. "Of her own choice she remains an enigma, and I can't help but think that's part of what makes Christian aware of her. She is a puzzle to solve." He mocked himself with a short laugh. "Now
I
sound fanciful."

"Not really," Susan said. "I don't think you're far off the mark. It's odd, Scott, but when I saw her I was struck by the notion that we had met before. Or at least that I had seen her somewhere, and recently, too."

"Where could that have taken place?"

Susan paused, searching for the right word. "How shall I describe it? Someplace
ordinary."

"Ordinary? How do you mean?"

"You know, like the butcher's. Or standing in line at the bank or the greengrocer's. It would have been an encounter like that. Not likely, is it?"

"No, not likely. Especially not if it was recently. Jenny has not been out of Marshall House since Christian took her inside. It's no longer a matter of hiding her. She's the one hiding now, and if
I
realize it, you can be sure Christian knows it as well."

Susan agreed. Christian rarely missed a beat when he was drinking. Sober, nothing escaped his notice. If the idea that Jenny was hiding from someone or something captured her interest and imagination, then that same idea would be irresistible to Christian. "She probably just reminds me of someone. I suppose it will come to me in time." She yawned sleepily. "Will you talk to Christian?"

He nodded. "Whether or not he is attracted to her, he is going to be offended by what I have to say. He will probably call me out."

Susan laughed softly. "Do men really do that any more? Besides, you both enjoy sparring. Sometimes you act like schoolboys."

Scott's grin was sheepish. He rolled toward Susan, partially trapping her under his body. "I want to lay him out cold just once," he said, nuzzling her neck.

"Oh? And what will that prove?"

"Nothing. But it would give me the chance to put him on the table."

"You still want that lead ball in his leg, don't you?"

He nodded. "I am going to get it, too."

"I believe you will." Her eyes softened as her heart swelled. How dear this man was to her. "I fell in love with a champion." She would have said more, but Scott's mouth brushed hers and Susan gave herself up to the moment.

* * *

"Good day to you, Mr. O'Shea," Jenny said. Her smile was engaging, her expression winsome.

Liam O'Shea tipped his hat as Jenny opened the iron gate securing the Marshall property. His jet-black hair was immediately tousled by the wind. "Miss Holland, is it not?"

She nodded. "How good you are to remember." She let him close the gate for her and they naturally fell in step together. The wind buffeted them, putting ruddy color into their cheeks. Jenny tightened her grip on the frog clasp of her gray wool cape. She kept the fur-trimmed hood close about her head so that it hid her face more than framed it.

"I make it my business to remember names and faces," Liam said importantly. "In this neighborhood I have to know who the strangers are. They're up to no good."

"I was a stranger once," she said.

Liam's deep blue eyes danced. He twirled his club with a jaunty air. "Sure, and you were that. But that's before you started feeding me warm crullers. No one with crullers is a stranger."

Although he made it sound as if she did it all the time, Jenny could only recall offering him the braided doughnuts twice: once on Christmas morning and again a few days later. Both times it had been Mrs. Brandywine's idea. The housekeeper's attempts at matchmaking were as obvious as they were misguided, but Jenny did not take offense.

"Are you going as far as Forty-third Street, Mr. O'Shea?" Jenny asked. He was not unhandsome, she thought absently, and was more struck by the fact that she had taken so little notice of him before. The copper was not much taller than she was, but he had broad shoulders that pulled at the seams of his double-breasted coat. A black leather belt cinched his waist, and his badge shone brightly from a recent polishing. He wore black boots that gave sound to his confident stride. Liam had a wide, open smile, kind eyes, and an unruffled demeanor that made him popular with the local aristocracy as well as their staff. Jenny suspected that he kissed the Blarney Stone regularly, but then she never met an Irishman who didn't. It was not the sort of thing she could hold against him. Compliments came as easily to his lips as criticism came to Christian's.

She shook her head, disappointed with herself. She did not want to think about Christian Marshall. She had managed to stay out of his way since their encounter in his study four days earlier. If only it were so easy to keep him from pressing at the edges of her thoughts. Even now she could hear his voice taunting her. "Shall I make you want me, Jenny Holland? I can, you know." In spite of the cold, Jenny felt herself begin to warm from the inside out.

"Are you feeling all right, Miss Holland?" Liam asked.

Jenny blinked. "What? Oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine." She was so warm that she flushed. "I didn't hear what you said about Forty-third Street. Are you going that far?"