Lost Lords 6 - Not Quite a Wife (17 page)

Though Laurel could have found a good use for the two hundred pounds offered by the women from the Sisters Foundation, starting a new refuge in another city seemed like a better use of the grant. “Zion House is funded by the money Kirkland settled on me for my support,” she explained. “He was very generous. Enough so to pay for Daniel’s infirmary and Zion House both.”

Cassie sat bolt upright in her chair. “I want to contribute to your foundation, Julia. The cause is one I support wholeheartedly.”

Her voice suggested that she knew something of male abuse, but it also implied something else. Laurel scanned the faces of the other women. “I was vaguely assuming that all of you knew each other well, rather like Kirkland’s school friends know each other, but that’s not true, is it?”

“Definitely not,” Mariah said. “Julia and I have known each other about three years since we lived in the same small town, Hartley, but I only met Kiri after I met Adam. Cassie I’ve met in the last fortnight.” She smiled at her sister. “And though Sarah and I are twins, we weren’t raised together. We only found each other about a year ago.”

“Which is why we sometimes indulge in twin silliness,” Sarah said with a chuckle. “We have so many years to catch up on.”

“So I am less of an outsider than I expected,” Laurel said.

“If you thought we’re a tight little group that hisses at everyone else, you’re wrong,” Kiri said with a laugh. “But enough of the digressions. Why did you and Kirkland separate if you were so much in love?”

“We had just returned to London after a lengthy honeymoon, and Kirkland was about to send notices to the newspapers to announce our marriage since few people knew of it.” Laurel dropped her gaze to her cooling tea. Though she had invited questions, the separation was still difficult to discuss. “Then . . . a man broke into our house, and I saw Kirkland kill him with his bare hands. Swift, brutal, and efficient. I . . . I was horrified to discover that my husband was a dangerous stranger. I left the next morning.”

After a shaken silence, Julia said, “That would be deeply upsetting. But surely it was self-defense?”

Laurel sighed. “At the time, the killing seemed wholly unnecessary. When we reconciled, Kirkland explained some mitigating factors, but still.”

“Violence is too often a fact of life,” Cassie said slowly. “For a sheltered and very young wife, it would be particularly horrifying. Only monsters kill for pleasure, or for no reason at all. But sometimes, killing cannot be avoided.”

“My mind knows that. My emotions have much more trouble with the lethal reality.” Laurel swallowed hard. “The night before we left Bristol to come here, not even a week ago, he once again killed a man in front of me. It was completely justified because his action saved the life of a woman who was very nearly murdered by her husband. And yet . . . and yet the sight of his violence made me ill.”

“Even though he saved a life?” Kiri frowned, trying to understand.

“We are what we are,” Julia said. “For someone who is a healer by nature, violence is particularly dreadful. As a midwife, I understand this.” She paused, then said deliberately, “I once killed a man. It was an accident, but the death still haunts me.”

Kiri’s green eyes rounded. “How dreadful! What happened?”

“My first husband was beating me,” Julia said, her voice flat. “I shoved him as I tried to escape, and his skull smashed into the fireplace.”

Her words created a horrified silence until Sarah said tautly, “I have also killed. Not that long ago, and not by accident.”

“What happened?” Julia asked in a gentle voice.

Sarah swallowed convulsively. “Evil men planned to slaughter a party of girls and women, including my young stepdaughter. The men deserved to die. I regret nothing. But dear God, the nightmares!” Tears showed in her eyes.

Mariah slid across the sofa and put her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Thank heaven Rob is there when you have nightmares,” she said softly.

“Thank heaven indeed,” Sarah whispered.

Stunned, Laurel said, “I know that much of my life I was sheltered, but is murderous violence common and I’ve just been lucky not to see more?”

Cassie sighed. “Mercifully, it’s not common. But since we are being ruthlessly honest with each other, I have killed, and more than once. I have no regrets and no nightmares about my actions.” She bit her lip. “My nightmares are of the people I couldn’t save. But my life is not common. For many years, I was an agent moving between England and France. It was a long madness, and I’m glad that it’s over.”

So Cassie had been an agent. Putting the pieces together, Laurel said, “Kirkland mentioned that you were the one wife here who knew he was married. Since we’re being ruthlessly honest, I shall ask this. Were you one of Kirkland’s lovers? Did he tell you he had a wife over his pillow?”

Cassie looked startled before her face eased into a smile. “It was over a pillow, but not the way you think. Kirkland had a bad fever attack. You know about them?”

When Laurel nodded, Cassie continued, “His condition was very dangerous and he couldn’t be left alone. Those of us who sat with him had to be trustworthy in case his ravings revealed any of his many secrets. In one of his deliriums, he spoke of his wife in heated but very complimentary terms.”

She smiled impishly. “I won’t deny that I found him attractive and if he had made advances, I would have considered it. But he never did. I’m sure he thought it would be bad policy to become involved with one of his agents, and of course he was right.” She caught Laurel’s gaze. “I swear that I was not his mistress.”

“No, you weren’t the lover of Laurel’s husband,” Sarah said coolly. “You were the lover of
my
husband.”

W
ithout moving a muscle, Cassie came alive with dangerous alertness, as if uncertain whether Sarah might attack. She looked very like Kirkland had when he was killing Bailey, Laurel realized. The room pulsed with tension as the other women watched Cassie and Sarah. Mariah was frowning.

Voice soft, Cassie said, “Yes, we were lovers on and off for years. I thought of him as my best friend. I didn’t realize that he thought of me differently until I met Grey and discovered—hope.”

“Hope?” Sarah’s brows arched.

Cassie rose and moved restlessly around the room. There was a curve to her abdomen that suggested the middle months of pregnancy. “Rob and I had both lost so much that we had little to give to each other except. . . some kindness on the rare occasions we were together. Between his work and mine, that wasn’t often.”

“Rob referred to you as a companion who dealt with danger, as he did,” Sarah said, her gaze following Cassie. “He thought someday the two of you would be able to settle down together.”

“In a cottage by the sea,” Cassie murmured. “But since I never expected to survive the wars, I had no plans for the future.” She turned to face Sarah. “Despite all he suffered in prison, Grey has a . . . a brightness of spirit that changed me even when I didn’t believe we could have a future. I think you do the same for Rob. You give him a lightness and warmth that I could never have managed.”

“Yes, and he gives me the steadiness I need.” Sarah met the other woman’s gaze. “Thank you for the kindness you gave Rob when he needed it, Cassie.” She grinned. “And thank you for being fool enough to let him go!”

Visibly relaxing, Cassie returned to her chair. “I’m glad you’re being so civilized! I was worried you might try to scratch my eyes out.”

Sarah laughed. “I doubt I could if I tried. Not that I would try. You are part of what made Rob who he is, and I love who he is.”

Laurel had been watching the other two women with fascination. “I was so worried about meeting you all, even though Kirkland said I shouldn’t be. But he was right. You are remarkable.” She smiled a little. “I rather thought it would be my eyes that would be scratched out for leaving Kirkland.”

“No one can judge the truth of another marriage,” Kiri said seriously. “That said, you are the one who opened the door to all this ruthless honesty, but you have not completed your story. We know why you left Kirkland, but what has brought you back together again?”

Laurel had asked for this, hadn’t she? “Kirkland was in Bristol meeting with the captain of one of his ships. When he left the port, he suffered a fever episode and then was assaulted by two thieves. He was brought unconscious to our infirmary. My brother was away and I was the only one available to treat him.”

“That must have been quite a moment when you discovered the identity of your patient!” Mariah exclaimed.

“An understatement of massive proportions,” Laurel said fervently. “His injuries weren’t too serious, but he was feverish. After I patched him up, I dosed him with Jesuit’s bark tea and that reduced the severity of the fever attack.” Her hands clenched. The next part was where it became difficult.

When Laurel’s silence stretched, Kiri said, “Please, we are perishing of curiosity! Though perhaps I can guess what happened next.”

Blushing violently, Laurel said, “Attraction . . . had never been a problem. He was delirious, I caught him to prevent a fall, and . . . I leave the rest to your imaginations.”

“And we all have vivid imaginations!” Sarah exclaimed. “So the next morning you decided to reconcile?”

“You overrate my honesty,” Laurel said ruefully. “Kirkland was out of his head and had no recollection of what we’d done. I was horrified by my temporary madness, so in the morning I pretended that nothing had happened. We said civil farewells and I thought that was that. Then”—her hand went to her abdomen—“I found I could not pretend that nothing had happened.”

“So you’re with child!” Julia said. “I wondered. You have the look. That is certainly an excellent reason to put the past behind so you can build a future together.”

“But I don’t know how to do that!” Laurel looked at the other women pleadingly. “Of course I had to tell Kirkland, but I wanted to quietly raise the child in Bristol. As busy as he is, I couldn’t imagine he’d be very interested, particularly if it’s a girl, but he
is
interested. He persuaded me that even if we didn’t fully reconcile, we must become friendly again. Enough that our child can move back and forth between our households. That made sense, so I agreed to come to London for occasional visits. I know he wants more, but whenever I think about that . . .” Her voice choked off.

“You see him breaking a man’s neck,” Cassie said quietly.

Laurel swallowed hard. “I can’t stop caring, but he is not the man I thought I was marrying. We are too different. We always will be.”

“You should think less about the death of villains at Kirkland’s hands and more about the vows you took,” Julia said with unexpected tartness. “For better or worse, Laurel. Of course you didn’t know everything about the man you married. No one ever can. Marriage is a leap into the unknown, holding the hand of the person you have pledged yourself to. Remember that he doesn’t know all about you, either. Because you loved, you promised. You must try harder to keep that promise.”

Laurel jerked back at the uncompromising words. Before she could think of what to reply, Sarah mused, “I wonder why he didn’t come after you when you left. He’s not a man to give up easily.”

“He never gives up,” Kiri agreed. “Not
ever
. Yet he let you walk away.”

Through numb lips, Laurel said haltingly, “Very well, since we’re being honest—I thought he let me go so easily because he didn’t want me. The honeymoon was glorious and he’d talked about holding a grand ball to announce the marriage to everyone in London. But I think that when we arrived here, he realized I was just a provincial girl of no great charm or wit or beauty. After I left, he was free to live as he chose.”

“You underestimate yourself,” Mariah said with compassion. “He certainly seems to want you now.”

Laurel shrugged. “Now that he’s older, he must be concerned about getting an heir, and for as long as I live, I’m the only possible source of an heir. He can’t divorce me for adultery since I haven’t lain with another man, so yes, he wishes to reconcile.”

Cassie shook her head. “You also underestimate Kirkland’s stern Presbyterian conscience. I’d wager half my fortune that he felt profoundly guilty for killing even if his victim was a villain. He might have thought your leaving was the punishment he deserved. Now he’s getting a second chance, and he’s trying to rebuild what was broken. I saw the way he looked at you. There is no question that he wants you as his wife.”

“The real question is what you’ll do about that.” Julia bit her lip. “I speak from experience about vows. My life was being threatened by my former father-in-law, who thought of me as the murderer of his only son. Even though we scarcely knew each other, Randall offered marriage as the best way to protect me. I was reluctant, and for the first months I had one foot out the door, ready to bolt. It wasn’t until I closed that door and committed myself to the vows I’d made that our marriage became real.”

Laurel stared at her interlocked fingers, which were white with tension. “You’re right. It is perhaps understandable why I left him. I was very young, and very horrified. But now . . . I am a woman grown, and I have seen how complicated the world is. I . . . I must do better than I have. I
will
do better. I just . . . have to figure out how.”

The silence was broken by Sarah. “I don’t know if I should speak up when I’ve been married the shortest time of anyone here,” she said hesitantly. “But it seems to me that physical intimacy strengthens all the other bonds of marriage. The emotional intimacy, the trust, the commitment. Without that physical intimacy, it might be impossible to accept the aspects of Kirkland’s nature that shock you. You said that your head accepts his actions but your emotions won’t. Perhaps you should give your emotions more reason to trust him.”

“In other words,” Kiri said irrepressibly, “return to your husband’s bed and everything may sort itself out.”

A wave of heat passed through Laurel. Kirkland might not remember that mad coupling at the infirmary, but she most certainly did. Suspecting her face was scarlet, she said, “I’ll have to have a serious talk with my conscience. Is it right that doing something so pleasurable should dissolve my moral objections to murder?”

“Don’t think of it that way,” Cassie said seriously. “Yes, you have a visceral abhorrence of violence, but there are different kinds of violence, and Kirkland has restricted himself to the more honorable kind. If you strengthen your bond with him, perhaps you will no longer be ruled by your revulsion.”

Could rekindling the fierce passion Laurel and Kirkland had shared change her to the point that she could accept her husband’s dark side? Laurel bit her lip. Certainly passion would change the shape of their marriage, and that might be for the better. “I shall have to think about that. You might well be right.”

“Or she might be wrong.” Mariah had a private smile. “But it is worth thinking about. Mating in all senses of the word does change everything.”

Laurel surveyed her companions. “I thought that my estranged marriage was an elephant in the room, so I should shove the beast into the middle where it could be acknowledged and dealt with. I think that has happened.”

“I think that elephant has been sliced into cutlets and grilled over a fire,” Kiri said with a laugh. “Having ridden elephants, I can say that is no small feat you have achieved. I commend your courage, Laurel.”

“Thank you,” Laurel said shyly. “I’m very glad we’ve—banished the elephant together.” As she looked around the circle of women, she realized they could all become friends—and were well on the way to achieving that.

The drawing room door opened and the gentlemen ambled in, all of them gravitating toward their wives. Except Kirkland, who entered the room last, his expression contained and impossible to read.

“Have we interrupted anything hair raising?” Mackenzie asked with a grin. “When I thought of the six of you in one room with a teapot, I found myself alarmed by the possibilities.”

Kiri caught his hand and drew him to her side. “And well you should be! We have vanquished an elephant. What, pray, did you gentlemen discuss over your port?”

“Nothing the least bit interesting,” her husband said promptly. “Affairs of state. Very tedious.”

Wyndham chuckled as he bent to brush a kiss on his wife’s head. “Don’t believe a word he says.”

Cassie smiled up at him, her face coming alive. “Did you know that Kirkland is an accomplished pianist and a lover of all things musical? I didn’t.”

“I didn’t, either,” Wyndham said, surprised. Mariah covered a yawn. “I wish to make an early night of it, but it’s been a remarkably fine evening. Thank you, Lord and Lady Kirkland.”

“I also want to return to my daughter,” Julia said thoughtfully, “but I was hoping that perhaps we might have a brief recital? Laurel also plays the piano, and I suspect she is very good. She says you often played four-handed pieces.”

Laurel’s gaze shot to Kirkland. After a barely noticeable pause, he said, “Laurel plays superbly, so I don’t see why not. Unless you’re too tired, my dear?”

“Never too tired for music.” She rose with a smile and a mild inner curse aimed at Julia, who was creating a situation to draw Laurel and her husband together. It wasn’t a bad impulse, but too soon! Laurel had so much to think about.

But Kirkland was smiling and ushering her toward the stairs. “Shall we do something from Vivaldi’s
Four Seasons
? That was always a favorite of ours.”

“ ‘Primavera
,
’ ” she said. “ ‘Spring.’ ” The season of growth and rebirth, and may it symbolize what she was going to attempt.

“That’s always been my favorite of the concertos,” he said. “A good end to a good evening.”

The music room had enough seats for all the guests, though there were none to spare. As two footmen lighted lamps, Laurel settled on the piano bench and flexed her hands, then ran her fingers lightly over the keys in the lilting bars of a serenade her nurse had sung to her when she was a child. As always, music calmed her.

The bench creaked as Kirkland sat down on her left. She felt the warmth of his body teasing her nerves.
Don’t think of him as a murderer, but as a brave man who does what is necessary no matter what the cost to himself. The man you vowed to love and cherish, for better or worse.

She stilled her hands and glanced over as Kirkland readied himself, his long, elegant fingers stroking out a progression of deep chords. At seventeen, she’d thought him the handsomest man she’d ever met. Years and pain had given him the finely drawn beauty of a medieval saint.

If he’d married a woman who could have accepted him as he was, there wouldn’t be such pain in his face. He’d be a happier man if he’d never met her.

And if she’d never met him? She couldn’t imagine what her life would be like. Simpler but narrower. Less rich.

When he was settled, he gave a nod and they began, the swift notes dancing from their fingertips. The first movement vibrated with life. When she made swift little soprano improvisations with her right hand, Kirkland grinned and did matching improvisation in the bass notes with his left hand. Unlike when they’d played several days earlier, she didn’t resist the way their rhythms matched.

Once the side of her left hand grazed his fingers and a shock went through her. He didn’t seem to notice, but she’d taught him to be wary of her. To be separate.