Rebecca (22 page)

As he spoke of his hopes for this backward parish, Rebecca listened intently. Much of what John discussed were things she would like to see happen. She forgot that she did not intend to stay in Foxbridge. When she heard him talk of a school for the children and medical care for their families, she realized how little had been provided for those who looked to the Cloister for aid. She vowed to see whether Nicholas was planning to change this slow fall behind the rest of the world.

Rebecca paid no attention to the passing time. The minister was interested in the New World, so she told him about the bits she had seen. Many of his questions she could not answer, for she had no more knowledge than he of the circumstances in the other former colonies. All of her world had been centered on a few square miles in northern Connecticut.

The chiming of the mantel clock brought her back to her senses. “Oh, my, look at the time!” she gasped. “I was supposed to return to Foxbridge Cloister two hours ago. Nicholas will be furious!”

“My dear Lady Foxbridge,” he said quickly, taking her words literally, “tell your husband it was my fault that you were delayed. I shouldn't have presumed to take so much of your time.”

“Nonsense,” Rebecca replied. “I have plenty of free time. I certainly enjoyed our talk, John. I'll see you on Thursday, if Nicholas allows me to come back.” She smiled at her small joke.

The minister did not find it humorous that the new lord of Foxbridge Cloister was dictating his will on this beautiful woman. Again Reverend Middletown's common sense was blinded by his powerful attraction to Rebecca. He wanted to believe that her husband was the demon he resembled, so he did not feel guilty about his longing to pull this married woman into his arms and kiss her with the fire of his desire. Sitting next to her for the past three hours, listening to her lyrical voice, watching her intelligent face as she heard him spin out his dreams for his poor parish, he had fallen even deeper in love with Rebecca Wythe.

“I will see you on Thursday,” he said somewhat breathlessly. “Let me help you out to your carriage, my lady.” He intended to take advantage of any opportunity to hold her close.

“Thank you.” Rebecca did not suspect the true reason behind his offer to help her. She placed her hand in his. As she rose, she swayed slightly while she tried to regain her sometimes precarious balance.

He immediately put his arms around her to keep her from falling. His hold tightened as he felt her soft curves pressed so intimately to him. He gazed down into her face which was turned in profile to him. She was so beautiful, but he did not dare to kiss her cheek as his aching heart urged. When she was steady again, he reluctantly released her. He did not want to, but he could cause more trouble for her if he revealed how he felt.

“Thank you, again,” she said softly as she leaned on her cane. “I hope this dizziness isn't permanent. Dr. Scott tells me it is because I have not been on my feet for so long. I hope he's right when he says it will disappear.”

Concerned by the breathlessness in her voice, he urged her to sit. Not bothering to put on his coat, he raced across the green to where the carriage was parked. He called out to her driver.

Sims rounded the back of the carriage and saw the expression on the minister's face. He had guessed Lady Foxbridge was at the vicarage when she was not in the church when he returned. Although, as the time had gone on, he had become worried, he did not go looking for her. It would not do to show that Lady Foxbridge was considered incapable of looking after herself. “What is it, Reverend?” he asked, anxiously.

“Lady Foxbridge is very tried. I think you should bring the carriage over to the vicarage, so she doesn't have to walk so far.”

He nodded and climbed into the seat. Competently he turned the large vehicle so that he could drive it close to the steps of the house. Middletown followed more slowly. Both men were shocked to see Rebecca standing on the porch.

She laughed lightly. “You worry too much, John. I'm fine. Oh, thank you, Sims,” she added as he opened the door. It was nearly at the same level as the porch, so she was able to get into the carriage easily. When the door was closed, she waved out the window as it went toward the Cloister.

Behind her, the man watched as the coach drove put of sight along the twists of the road leading up to the imposing house ruling over all the countryside. Thursday, when he would see her again, seemed eons away. He almost dreaded her next visit, for he was unsure how long he could keep from letting her see his true feelings. Even as he climbed the steps to his small house, he knew that on Thursday he would arrange for Mrs. Martin to be busy elsewhere, so he could entertain Rebecca once again alone.

The explosion Rebecca anticipated came as soon as she stepped into the suite she shared with Nicholas. Standing in the middle of the sitting room with his arms crossed over his chest, he watched as she limped toward him. His eyes noted the fatigue etched into her face and the more pronounced weakness in her right leg. As he had guessed, she had pushed herself too hard.

“I thought to see you home hours ago, Rebecca,” he stated without a drop of emotion to color his voice.

Pulling off her bonnet, she dropped it and her gloves on the table. Although every bit of her body ached, her right leg most of all, she perversely straightened. “I was delayed, Nicholas.”

“You should have been home two hours ago.”

“So I'm late. Is that such a crime? I stopped to have tea with John after the children's practice. We got to talking about the church fair, and the time just sped past.” She could not contain a tired sigh.

“John?” he demanded viciously.

Startled by the rage in his voice, she finally looked directly at his arrogant face. That black sentiment was vivid on his features as well. Quietly, she answered, “Reverend Middleton. He asked me to call him ‘John.' He's a very pleasant man, and we had a nice conversation.” She closed her eyes as she swayed. “For goodness' sake, Nicholas, don't act the jealous husband. He's a man of the cloth.”

He scooped her up in his arms as he saw she was about to fall. When he heard her soft gasp of pain, he knew he inadvertently had hurt her. “Rebecca?” he asked in a more tender voice.

“Yes?” She opened her eyes as she leaned her head against the strength of his shoulder. In Nicholas' arms, she felt no desire to show that she was tough and capable of anything. She wanted only to be cuddled sweetly.

“Sweetheart, remember that, although the good reverend is a man of the cloth, he is a man first. Don't put yourself in a position that will bring you unhappiness.”

Startled by the way he had expressed his concerns, she asked, “Me? How about your happiness?”

The fiendish sound returned in his sharp laugh. “You know very well what would happen to any man, cleric or not, who tries to seduce you from me, Rebecca.” He had to say no more. His threat was clear. If she chose a lover, that man would soon be dead by her husband's hand. It revealed the violence which simmered beneath his suave exterior.

He carried her into her bedroom and placed her on her bed. When he pulled back her skirts, she began to protest. She realized quickly that he was interested only in checking her leg. When she saw that it was slightly swollen, she was not surprised. It felt horrible, and so did she. As she leaned back into the pillows he had plumped for her, she answered his questions about how the children's choir practice had gone. She saw he was shocked that things had taken place as smoothly. Her smile was triumphant as she told him how the youngsters had been cooperative and excited about the next practice.

“You don't have to look so surprised, Nicholas!” she retorted tartly as he helped her unbutton her shoes and remove her stockings. “You expected this to go horribly, didn't you? That's why you agreed to let me go to the church today.”

Instead of replying, he bent and kissed her lightly. “Rest, darling. I think it would be a good idea if you took your supper here tonight. Shall I have it brought up on a tray for us?”

“That sounds lovely.”

Telling her he would be back in a few minutes, he closed the door. Rebecca rested her head on the pillows and stared at the hounds racing along the top of her bed. She always was glad that the vixen was outdistancing her pursuers in the frozen tableau. It seemed that she had outfoxed Nicholas today. That he would not admit he falsely had foreseen that she would fail told her those had been his exact thoughts. She would not fail. In four weeks, the youngsters would show everyone that they could rise above their poverty and lack of education to shine like gleaming starlets born in the summer sky. She closed her eyes to enjoy her thoughts.

When he came back minutes later, Nicholas was not surprised Rebecca was asleep. She had had a long day and, by the expression on her face, a very happy one. He felt a surge of jealousy race through him as he thought of her with Middleton. That it was entirely innocent, he did not doubt, for she would have allowed nothing else. It did not keep the tainted tentacles of fury from teasing him with images of Rebecca in another man's arms.

He let her sleep as he ate his dinner alone in the sitting room. When Collette entered, he told her not to disturb Rebecca. She asked if Lady Foxbridge had had fun on her day in Foxbridge, and he controlled his uneven emotions enough to reply pleasantly. When she left, she asked him to tell Lady Foxbridge to ring if she wanted her when she woke.

Although he checked Rebecca several times more during the evening and before he retired for the night, she remained asleep. Like the sweet angel he had first imagined her to be, she slept in oblivion of the darkness inhabiting his heart. If she had known of his pain, she would have laughed it away with the humor which helped her survive all her own anguish. Kissing her lips which breathed lightly in sleep, he tiptoed out of the room to go to his own bed which begged for his wife's warmth to bring happiness to its wide softness.

Chapter Eleven

Rebecca was careful not to overdo again as she had that first day. She let the children know that she depended on them to help by disciplining themselves. At their first true rehearsal, she was not surprised to see more children than on the first day. Soon their sweet, treble voices were learning the words to the songs for the fair. Also she let them sing other songs just for fun.

Reverend Middleton always was present for part of each rehearsal. He continued to let Rebecca and the children know how proud he was of their music, which soon sounded as fine as he pretended it had at the beginning. He had not repeated the invitation for Rebecca to visit at his home. Instead, if he had something he wanted to discuss, he did it in the church where there was no chance he would forget himself.

A week before the church fair, he had come, as usual, to listen to the youngsters. Rebecca was holding the rehearsal an hour earlier than usual, saying only that she had plans for later in the afternoon. She did not explain that Curtis and Eliza had invited her and Nicholas to join them and some friends for a picnic on the beach past the gardens of Foxbridge Cloister. She thought of the cool air longingly, for it was an extremely hot and humid day with no hint of breeze in the village. The children were uncooperative, so she dismissed them early. They laughed as she told them to cool themselves off with a swim. She accepted the moist kisses many of the children gave her each time they were together.

“Those little ones certainly love you, my lady,” said the minister as he rose.

“They are lovely youngsters. They work so hard.”

“To please you.” He smiled as he took his accustomed seat in front of her. “I think they will be the most remembered part of this fair.”

She laughed. “Whether they do well or their songs are a disaster, it will be memorable. I wanted to tell you that I will be willing to work at the drink booth, if you still need someone, John. Nicholas has some appointments that will keep him busy all day, so I can work here the whole day without being missed at Foxbridge Cloister.”

“You are being so generous with your time, my lady.”

She smiled as she reached for her bonnet. “I'm having such a grand time with the children and you, I don't wish it to stop.”

If Rebecca had realized how her words would affect the minister, she would have phrased them differently. It was only when he reached past his pew and took her shoulders to bring her slowly to her feet that she discovered how unthinkingly silly her words had been. “My sweet Rebecca, there is no reason for these times to stop.” His fingers caressed her arms tenderly.

Her hands shook as she reached up and removed his hands from her. “That isn't what I meant. You forget that I'm married.”

“I can't forget anything about you.” He drew her into his arms again. When he leaned forward to kiss her, she turned her head away. A confused expression furrowed his forehead. “What is this? I thought you didn't love your husband. You act so afraid of him.”

“Me? Afraid of Nicholas?” She laughed lightly. “No, John, I'm not afraid of my husband.” She ignored his other words. How she felt about Nicholas was not relevant to this situation. “Please. I think it would be a good idea if you would release me.”

“I think so as well.” The very calm of the deep voice reverberated through the empty church like the nonexistent bell tolling the coming of Doom.

Rebecca whirled away from the man whose face had become pasty white. She looked from Nicholas, who did not show the rage she knew he was feeling, to John, who realized that he had overstepped himself dangerously. Gripping the sides of the pews to help herself walk to where her husband stood motionlessly, she put her hand out to him. Immediately he took it and pulled her to him slowly enough so she would not trip without her cane. She had been able to walk short distances without it, but in these stressful circumstances she felt as weak as the first time she had tried to stand.