Patricia Hagan (19 page)

Roger smiled. The stupid bastard didn’t know he’d just given him a great idea. This time, Holly would be so frightened she’d never return to her land. It meant she would have to get hurt, but she would mend in time. Besides, he smiled to himself, he’d be there to kiss away the hurt.

“You goin’ crazy?” Barney demanded testily. Roger’s smiles and laughter were always so ugly. “I just get through tellin’ you we got big problems with Wellman, and you start laughin’ like a loonie.”

Roger dismissed him with a careless wave. “Go tell Wellman I’ve got one more job for him to do, and then his share of the gold will be waiting and he can be on his way. Tell him”—Roger’s manner became deadly—“to slip in here and hide out and wait till he sees his chance. Then I want him to attack Holly, slap her around, hurt her. All the while, I want him threatening to kill her. I want her, damn it,” he said fiercely, “to think she
is
being killed. I’ll rush in at the last minute and save her. I’ll let him get away, she’ll be properly scared, and I think our problems will be over.”

Barney’s eyes bulged. He was going to let that girl be hurt? Like everyone else, Barney figured he was getting sweet on her. “You sure you know what you’re doin’? Wellman keeps sayin’ if he ever gets a chance, he’ll fix her good. He’s liable to kill her for real…or make her wish he had, if you know what I mean,” he added ominously.

Roger’s face tightened in a mask of deadly rage. “You tell that bastard if he rapes her, I’ll cut his balls off myself. Tell him that. He’s to slap her around, hurt her a little, but if I don’t happen to be around at the time, he’s to beat her
and leave her.
Nothing more. Make sure he understands exactly how far to go.”

Barney nodded. Yeah, he’d tell Wellman, all right, and hope he could impress on him just how Roger Bonham looked when he said it.

“You want him to come now?” Barney asked.

“As soon as he can get here. If Wellman is making the dangerous threats you say he is, then I want him paid and out of here.”

“You’ll have his share of the gold waiting when he’s done? You want me to tell him that?”

Roger nodded. “Tell him he’ll get everything that’s coming to him,” he said quietly.

Barney disappeared into the shadows and Roger left the stable a moment later.

Everything seemed to be going his way now. It was a shame Holly had to be hurt. She was beautiful and intelligent—qualities he would demand in a wife. He would surely require a wife in order to achieve social command. Who knew? He might even run for governor. With all his gold and a captivating wife like Holly, there would be no stopping him.

He frowned. He’d never be able to tolerate that high spirit of hers, though. A woman was supposed to be subservient to a man, obeying him without question. But there were ways of taming her, enjoyable ways. Once he gave her what a woman like her needed, she would be his slave. Oh, it might take a beating or two now and then, or tying her to the bed to teach her a few minor punishments he’d learned in that brothel in New Orleans he’d liked so much, but she’d come around. He’d break that wild spirit of hers, oh, yes, he would.

Jarvis admitted Holly to the house, stiff but cordial, saying he hoped they’d forget the unpleasantness of the morning. Holly murmured the proper responses, wondering whether she could ever be easy with Jarvis.

He gave her a tour of the downstairs rooms of the house, though she’d seen most of it when it was being put together. The furnishings were installed now, and she was impressed by the fragile formality. Dresden figurines decorated marble-topped tables, and Meissen vases were filled with fresh gardenia blossoms. The paneling was a shade of cream which Jarvis explained was popular in France just then. Her mother had chosen the lilac draperies, silk rather than velvet, because velvet, she felt, made a room oppressive.

Claudia joined them, radiant in a morning dress of orange and green taffeta that rustled with her every movement. Giving Holly a tight hug, she declared that the most wonderful weekend of her life was complete. “Because you’re here, my darling,” she beamed. “We’ll forget last night, and if I have my way, you’ll never go back to that dreadful place. Come along now, I’m going to show you
your
room. I decorated it myself, so I insist you fall in love with it!”

Holly glared at Jarvis, and he became defensive. “I didn’t have to tell her about last night,” he said. “Sally told her everything. She knew the whole story before I even got back here.”

To her mother, she said, “I didn’t want anything to spoil this weekend for you.”

Claudia’s radiant smile vanished. “The only thing that will spoil my happiness is for you and Jarvis to continue to wrangle with each other. I knew there was going to be more trouble. I wasn’t surprised, I’m just thankful no one was hurt. Now we can just forget this for now?”

So, Holly realized as she glanced from one to the other, their love was putting her on the outside. So be it. Claudia’s happiness came first. She would get through the wedding, then stay out of their lives.

Jarvis said he had work to do in his study and left them. Claudia led the way upstairs. Reaching the upper gallery, they turned to the right, then stepped inside Holly’s room. It was a marvel.

Sunlight poured through the beveled glass of the long, narrow windows, which were framed by pale blue satin draperies. A carved-stone fireplace ran the width of one wall. The ceiling was covered in ornate plasterwork, a pattern of huge magnolia blossoms.

Slowly turning around and around, Holly gazed upward, marveling at the crystal chandelier. Hundreds of tiny, delicate prisms caught the sunlight and shot it downward to dance merrily on the deep burgundy carpet.

The furniture was all dark, rich mahogany. The bed was four-postered and high, with a tiny stepping stool beside it. The bright yellow spread was crocheted in a lacy pattern, and the canopy above matched, even to the tiny green leaves and dark golden roses.

On each side of the bed was a small table covered with a crocheted doily to match the spread and canopy. On one table was an oil lamp, the base and globe rounded and covered in hand-painted dogwood blossoms. On the other table was a porcelain pitcher and bowl, also painted with dogwoods.

A dressing table sat against one wall, a fluffy skirt of white net overlaying satin of the same shade of blue as the draperies. An oval mirror in a gold frame hung above, and on the table lay an ornate silver-handled brush, a mirror, and a comb, all decorated with a scrolled “M,” for Maxwell.

Claudia picked up the mirror and smiled at the initial. “Jarvis is so thoughtful. If you would only give him a chance, the two of you could be such good friends, and…” Her voice trailed off wistfully, and Holly wished she were not perpetually hurting her mother.

There was a huge wardrobe covering nearly half of another wall, and when Holly opened the double doors, she was stunned by the dazzling array of ball gowns, day dresses, and riding costumes. Rows and rows of leather and satin slippers of all colors lined the bottom of the wardrobe.

Shaking her head in wonder, she moved on to the dressing room. What was she to say to all this? No thank you, I don’t want it? How could she say no without seeming churlish and ungrateful?

Beyond the dressing room, in the bathroom, was a tub of porcelain, a tapestry dressing screen, and even a chamber pot disguised as a chair. Every comfort had been provided.

Another door led to a glassed-in terrace overlooking the gardens, the grounds, and the lush forest and fields beyond.

Helplessly, she turned to her mother. “I’ve never seen anything so lovely. I’m…very grateful.”

Claudia kissed her and smiled, tears shining. “You have a home here now, and nothing would make me happier than to find when I return from my honeymoon that you’re living here.”

“Where is Sally?” Holly quickly inquired. “I’d like to see her.”

Claudia assured her Sally was fine. “Jarvis had the old barn converted into rooms for the servants who don’t live here, and there are rooms above the new stable, too. I told her to rest in her room all day. There’s going to be so much to do this weekend.”

“I’d like to see her.” Holly turned, anxious to leave this room that offered so much but asked so much of her.

The rest of the day passed quickly. The dressmaker arrived for the final fittings for both Holly and her mother. The florist called, needing to consult with Claudia. The orchestra leader stopped in to go over the musical selections for the last time. So many plans! Holly felt uncomfortably out of place.

She chose a modest beige lace dress from her wardrobe for dinner and brushed her hair to hang loosely past her shoulders. Jarvis had said that cocktails would be served in the parlor, and when she entered the room she was unhappily surprised to find Roger there, standing by the liquor cabinet. The last thing she wanted was another confrontation.

“Holly, how delightful.” He smiled in greeting. “What can I fix you? Wine? Brandy? Champagne? How was your day? Busy, I suppose.”

What was going on? He acted as though they hadn’t parted in anger. “Wine, thank you.” She forced a smile. “White wine.”

Clinking glasses in a brief toast to the weekend’s happiness, they eyed each other and he apologetically began, “I’m sorry about this morning, Holly. Believe me, the last thing I want is for us to be enemies, the last thing. Whether you like me or not, we can at least be cordial, don’t you agree?” Without giving her a chance to say anything, he rushed on, “I wasn’t myself this morning. To be honest, I was quite upset because of what happened to you last night, and I guess that’s why I was so, uh, so unruly. You’re beautiful, and I’d love for us to become close, but I had no right to make assumptions about that. Can you forgive me?”

Holly nodded. Anything was better than animosity, but she couldn’t let him think this meant he could get close to her. “The house is so lovely,” she said, determined to focus his attention away from her. “Jarvis has done a wonderful job.”

He laughed, a distinctly hollow sound. Why did he have to be that way? Wasn’t it hard enough for her? “His dream house. Here’s to Jarvis!” He lifted his glass.

“Why didn’t he build his dream house for your mother?” she bluntly asked.

Roger frowned.

“He and my mother didn’t bring out the best in each other. If she hadn’t died, they’d have grown old and miserable together. No need to lament over that now. Too many pleasant subjects to talk about.” He downed his drink and poured another. “Tell me, have you seen your Negro friend? Has she recovered?”

Holly told him she hadn’t wanted to wake Sally, but would visit her after dinner. “I won’t go to bed until I’ve talked to her.”

He nodded, smiling secretively. Why was Roger so peculiar sometimes?

After a dinner of roasted capon with almond dressing, sweet potatoes, snap beans, and too much champagne, Holly declined the lemon pie and excused herself.

“Tomorrow is going to be a long day, and I do want to see Sally.”

Claudia reminded her, “We have the tea at ten, the luncheon with the ladies from church at noon, another tea at four, and the dinner party tomorrow night. So get a good night’s sleep.”

Holly was almost through the door leading to the rear hallway when Jarvis snapped at Roger. “Are you going to let her wander around in the dark by herself? Go with her, son.”

Holly didn’t notice Roger’s hesitation. “I can find my way,” she said. “After all, I grew up here.” She smiled to soften the pointed remark. “I’ll take the lantern from the kitchen. I won’t be long.”

Roger rose, sounding less than sincere as he offered, “I’ll be glad to walk with you.” He hesitated, glancing at his dinner plate. “I suppose I’ve had enough to eat.”

She waved away his offer. “Stay. Finish your dinner. You’re all treating me like a child.”

Finding a lantern on a table in the kitchen and lighting it, she made her way outside into the warm night. Why, she fumed as she walked to the stable, couldn’t they all leave her alone? She had enough to think about without everyone watching her every move.

She was almost to the stable, light spilling from the windows of the living quarters upstairs. Lost in thought, she didn’t see the man leap from the shadows. He threw his arm around her neck, crooking his elbow under her throat, cutting off her scream. Yanking her against him, he dragged her toward the stables. “You better just come along quiet, girlie, ’cause if
you piss me off any more’n I’m already pissed off, I might just go on and kill you instead of makin’ you wish I would.”

Amidst the stabbing terror, Holly recognized the voice. She clawed at his arm, but he squeezed tighter. “Keep that up, and I’ll kill you now, damn it.” He pressed hard against her throat until she stopped struggling. Then he hurriedly dragged her through the shadows and into the stable.

Taking her to one of the stalls at the rear, he flung her to the ground, instantly landing on her and straddling her to hold her down. He slapped her, hard, twice. He did it again. Forward. Back. Again and again. Holly tasted blood. Pain stabbed her face and jaw like knives of fire. She was losing consciousness in the terror and agony, slipping fast.

“Gonna have a good time teachin’ you a lesson, bitch,” Alex Wellman cackled. This was fun. Bless Roger Bonham for arranging this, he thought wildly, happily. Not only was he getting revenge on her, but his share of the gold would be waiting when he was done, and he could leave there and head home and get on with his life—a rich man.