Rebel (35 page)

Her eyes flashed again, but before she could reply, Sydney swung around. “Alaina, are we walking too quickly for you?”

“Not at all,” Alaina returned.

And she quickened her pace, catching up with Sydney, but Ian drew her back.

“Behave. It’s Christmas.”

“But Ian—”

“It’s Christmas.”

She was silent.

“Well?”

“Merry Christmas, Ian,” she said sweetly. And he laughed, drawing her against him once again and allowing her to choose the pace as they walked.

When they returned to the inn, they sat in the public room for dinner, listened to the traditional Christmas songs performed by a talented group of musicians, and talked idly among themselves. It might have been an extremely pleasant day, a beautiful Christmas.

Except that a cloud hung over the city. Ian wondered if he was the only one who felt its malevolent presence. When they were alone that night, Ian presented Alaina with his gift to her. It was a wedding band, delicate, with beautifully etched gold and small topaz insets. She sat before the dressing table, brushing out her hair. He took her hand, and the brush from it, then took the oversized ring he had placed on her finger at her wedding and replaced it with the delicate new band, which slid perfectly into place.

She stared at it for a very long while, then into his eyes, and her lips trembled slightly, and her voice was soft and shaky as well. “It’s… beautiful. Thank you.”

She came to her feet, attempting to kiss him, and rather awkwardly doing so, with the babe quite prominent
between them. Still, the whisper of her lips against his was evocative; as always, her scent was equally tantalizing to him. As if somewhat dazed, she looked from his eyes to her finger, and back again. “Ian… thank you.”

“The jeweler told me that I should use diamonds, and if not, emeralds or rubies. I told him no. The topaz was just like your eyes.”

“The topaz is perfect!” she whispered, then spun away, digging into her drawer. She brought out a box with an English packing insignia on it, handing it to him. “It’s not anywhere so beautiful or valuable,” she told him, those eyes which he had compared to topaz so brilliant upon his own. “But I did make it.”

He arched a brow, then opened the package and pulled out the soft folds of plaid wool in it to discover a large and handsomely hemmed scarf.

“It’s the McKenzie plaid,” she told him. “And very warm, so I’ve been told. If you must spend time in the North.”

He couldn’t help but smile and appreciate the thoughtfulness that had gone into the gift. He wrapped it around his neck, noting that the colors in the plaid would go very well with the dark blue of his uniform. He refrained from mentioning that fact to Alaina.

“Very warm,” he said huskily. “And greatly appreciated.” He smiled. “Naturally, my father would appreciate such an appropriate gift as well.”

She started to smile, but her smile faded, and he remembered suddenly that it was her first Christmas without her father, and probably her first Christmas away from home as well.

Her first Christmas as his wife.

“Thank you, my love, very much. Thank you,” he told her softly, and he suddenly swept her off her feet, carrying her to the wing chair before the fire. Her arms slipped around his neck, but she protested. “Ian, I’m far too heavy—”

“Alaina, you will never be too heavy,” he protested impatiently, and sat with her.

And she allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder, and sat trustingly against him, her fingertips delicately fallen against his chest. Her hair smelled clean, intoxicating with its subtly floral scent. He thought that
if the country were not coming apart at the seams, he might be a completely contented man. His wife was very beautiful, capable of being wild, impetuous, opinionated—and yet so gently sweet as of this moment. If he was plagued at all, it was by the wanting of her, a condition that would simply have to wait. Yet even in that, they were both young, vital, wealthy, and expecting a child any day. The perfect son, perhaps, and if not, a daughter, and years before them to complete a family.

“Ian,” she said after a moment.

“Hmmm?”

She hesitated, then murmured, “I wanted to thank you for—for everything when Teddy was killed. I’m still bitter about the army men, and I do pray that some justice is done. But you were very patient and kind, and I know that I never said so at at the time, and I just wanted you to know that it meant a great deal to me.”

“Alaina, Teddy was my father-in-law. You’re my wife. Naturally, I would have done anything in my power for him, or for you.”

“Really?” she murmured, and a skeptical tone was back in her voice. Their differences regarding North and South always seemed to come between them. If he would do anything in his power, she was certainly thinking, why wouldn’t he resign his commission?

“Within reason, my love,” he told her.

“Is that true?” she whispered softly.

“Within reason?” he queried.

She looked up at him, smiling wistfully, gold eyes touched by the flames of the fire. “No, I meant … I meant… I suppose that’s exactly what I meant. Within reason, of course. And I’m not always within reason.”

He shook his head, wondering what she had really been about to say.

She shivered suddenly.

“You’re cold,” he said quickly. “I’ll get a blanket.”

“No, no… please, just hold me,” she said very quietly, and he did so. Her knuckles stroked his cheek, and he sighed, somewhat despairing to realize that all the logic and reason in his mind were doing little to keep him from wanting his wife. And yet it was good just to feel her warmth, the brush of her fingers against him….
He felt the sudden movement of his child against his hand where it lay upon her abdomen.

Perhaps he wasn’t entirely content, but he was, indeed, at peace.

A calm always came before a storm, so Jerome had told him once, and so he thought it would be.

But for that Christmas, though…

There was peace.

I
an had taken a house in the center of the Capital. They arrived at night, but even in the darkness, D.C. seemed to be extraordinarily alive. Carriages rattled down the streets; the clip-clop of horses’ hooves could be clearly heard. Alaina didn’t particularly want to enjoy anything about Washington; despite herself, she liked it from the moment they first arrived. The place seemed so very vibrant. Vendors sold nuts roasting over open fires, calling out to passersby in singsong voices. Boys hawked newspapers and circulars even by night; messengers seemed to be going and coming busily no matter what the hour.

Houses were ablaze with light.

The journey had been rough. Despite the fact that the rail system had brought them almost all the way from Charleston to the house, traveling had not been easy for her. Alaina could feel the strain of the baby’s weight easily now, and she found sleep very difficult to acquire.

The carriage ride from the station to the house was wretched, with winter weather making bogs of the road. Alaina thought she’d be exhausted and anxious to retire when they reached the house. She had come a long way from the fever that had so nearly killed her after her father’s death, but she hadn’t entirely recuperated from the illness, which added to her weariness.

But the city made her feel alive. And she was pleased to discover that the house Ian had taken was very near the Capital itself, near the Mall, and in the bustling center of everything. It was quite cold and damp the night they arrived, but when they alighted from the carriage, she didn’t really notice. She spun around, fascinated, then realized that Ian was watching her, and that he
looked weary as well, and was trying not to be impatient with her.

“Would you like to see the house?” he suggested.

“Of course.”

The walkway was slippery; he held her elbow carefully, escorting her up the stairway to the porch. When they reached the porch, the door opened automatically, and Ian called out a greeting to the very tall and slender man standing there ready to welcome them.

“Henry, I’ve brought my wife,” Ian said. “Henry serves as my butler here, and much more.”

“Indeed,” Henry said pleasantly. He was so tall and slim, he reminded Alaina of a stork, but he had a surprisingly pleasant smile to go with his wild white hair and thin wrinkled face, and she liked him immediately. “I am master of whatever trade is needed, Mrs. McKenzie,” he added, greeting her with an inclination of his head. “Welcome, Mrs. McKenzie. I am delighted to serve you in any manner that I may.”

“Thank you, Henry,” Alaina told him.

“Henry, if you would be so good as to show my wife’s cook and maid to their lodgings, I’ll bring Mrs. McKenzie through the house.”

“As you wish, sir.”

The architecture of the house was stoically Federal in style; the entryway was fashioned in a half-moon shape with a fashionable marble-toned wallpaper and a very high ceiling with a handsome chandelier. A curving staircase rose immediately from the entry, while the downstairs rooms branched off from either side of it.

“To the left,” Ian said, leading her forward while Henry led Bella and Lilly up the stairs. “The formal dining room—naturally, no one will expect you to entertain in your present condition, but in time perhaps we’ll have guests. Beyond here, the ladies’ parlor, and beyond that, the grand salon. And next to it, the library, and my office.” Rooms led into one another in a neat pattern, the grand salon being directly behind the curving stairway. Next to it, the library had a very definite masculine appearance with its dark woods and leathers, and the office beyond seemed to state that it was off limits to the female gender as well.

She studied the library and connecting office, then
turned to Ian. “It’s very grand—for a place to stay while you’re assigned here. One would think you intend to stay awhile.”

“I took the house several years ago, which has proven to be a wise decision,” he said simply. “Come on, I’ll bring you upstairs. You must be completely exhausted.”

“I’m really fine—”

“But you don’t want to become overtired,” he said firmly, leading her back the way they had come and then upstairs.

“The servants’ quarters are all on the third floor,” he told her, pushing open a doorway just down the hall from the landing. “I’ve had this prepared for you.”

Alaina stepped into the room. It was extremely pleasant, with a large bed covered in a thick white quilt in the center of the room. The furnishings were pine, the wallpaper was in a delicate blue pattern, and the crown molding about the ceiling had been edged in the same blue.

“It’s quite nice,” she murmured. But her heart seemed to be pounding in her throat. It was her room. Her room alone. Not his.

She glanced at him. “And where … do you sleep in Washington?” she asked politely.

“I’m the next door down the hall,” he told her, his gaze sweeping over her. “It’s best for the time being. I crowd you and the baby.”

“That’s not really true.”

“Well, then, my love, I’ve gotten very little sleep as of late, and I need some,” he said softly. “There’s a washstand there, a hip tub behind the screen, and a kettle to heat water on the bracket above the fireplace. There’s a bellpull by the bed; if you need anything at all, Henry has a staff of three, and of course, we’ve more help now with Bella and Lilly here. I’ll leave you to get some rest. Would you like Lilly to come help you?”

“No, thank you, I’m fine.”

He came to her quickly, as if he had suddenly become quite impatient. He kissed her forehead. “Get some rest!” he murmured, and left her.

When he was gone, she sank suddenly to the foot of the bed, perplexed, uneasy—and hurt and lonely as well. Certainly they argued about the state of the country, but she
had been very glad to be with him in Charleston. She had felt secure sleeping at his side, comfortable in his arms. It seemed, however, that he was adamant about not having her in his room here, and she felt as if he were creating another of his walls between them. She couldn’t help but feel a certain jealousy and wonder if he didn’t crave something different from her here in Washington.

His freedom.

To spend time with the colonel’s daughter?

Still, she was very tired, and not at all sure of how to approach him, and far too proud to insist that he should be with her. What if he absolutely refused her? She didn’t think that she could bear such a situation.

Someone had already brought her trunk from the carriage to her room, and she struggled out of her traveling garments and into a nightgown alone, dismissing Lilly when she came to help her, with the explanation that she had already changed clothing and was mercilessly tired. Which she was.

She lay on the quilt-covered bed, staring into the night.

She did fall asleep, but it seemed that she had just barely done so before voices drifted up from the porch below. She walked to her window, carefully drawing back the thick brocade draperies. Ian stood on the steps with Henry, talking so quietly that she couldn’t make out what was being said. Then he started down the steps, and she saw that Pye had been brought around from the stables by a young groom, and Ian was mounting his horse.

He didn’t look back to the house; he rode out the gate and down the street, into the night.

And with both anguish and anger, she wondered just where he really intended to spend his night.

Alaina was determined that she could be every bit as withdrawn as her husband—which was not terribly difficult, because he was continually out of the house. Congress still battled for compromise, the newspaper assured the citizens. But Alaina knew as well that Florida’s representatives remained in Washington, demanding information from the Secretary of War regarding military
installations in Florida, Florida officers, and enlisted men in the United States military. Likewise, South Carolina had sent representatives regarding the military bases in that state.

The first few days of January seemed very cold indeed. Ian was extremely polite and solicitous, in the few hours he came home. And so remote, she longed to slap him nearly half the time she was near him. The baby was due very, very soon, but she couldn’t help the miserable feeling that she had been set inside a clean, decent cupboard—and then had had the door firmly closed on her. She wasn’t to be seen or heard. She was certain of this because, though Ian never failed to be out of the house when she woke in the morning, he did come home for a late dinner, which they ate together. When she tried to talk about the state of the country or demand to know if he was aware of anything else happening, he replied shortly, then changed the subject. When she suggested that she’d like to see something of the city, he reminded her that it was winter, there were patches of ice all about, and she should be concerned with her health and that of the child. She’d be out and about soon enough.