Read Who Brings Forth the Wind (Kensington Chronicles) Online
Authors: Lori Wick
Tags: #Romance, #Christian, #London (England), #Married People, #Fiction, #Christian Fiction, #Historical Fiction, #INSPIRATIONAL ROMANCE, #General, #Religious, #Love Stories
leave. It took years before he learned that it was because she
had never been without other men. The last one was his
brother.
"Tanner, is something wrong?"
Tanner shook his head to dispel the images that had leapt
into his mind.
"No," he forced the word as he turned toward the door.
"I'd best be on my way."
"All right," Stacy's voice was uncertain now. He hadn't
even kissed her goodbye. She followed him all the way downstairs
and out the door, finally coming to a standstill on the
porch to watch him stride away. When Tanner stopped just
short of boarding the coach and turned back to her, Stacy
spoke, her voice not able to mask her confusion.
"Take care of yourself, Tanner. Tell Edmond I said hello."
Tanner said something too softly to be heard and was back
in front of her in six strides. He pulled her almost fiercely into
his arms, Stacy was breathless when he released her, but she
managed a few more words.
"I love you, Tanner."
He didn't speak, but his gaze softened and the back of his
hand came up to stroke her cheek before he turned, strode to
the carriage, and was driven away.
Stacy didn't stand on the steps for very long. She was too
excited about her coming birthday. With her own long-legged
steps she mounted the stairs to make certain her dress was
perfectly pressed for the following night.
It was close to midnight before Tanner made his way up
the stairs on the night of the third. Price, who had not traveled
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with him this time, was in attendance, and without a word
Tanner undressed and moved soft-footedly into the bedroom
and toward the bed He was nearly on top of it before he
realized that the covers had been turned down but the bed
was empty.
With a feeling of dread, one that had hung with him since
he'd left, he walked toward Stacy's dressing room. Finding it
empty, he moved to the sitting room.
Stacy, dressed in her new gown, was seated by the fire, and
sitting very upright in a chair. As he approached, Tanner saw
that she was awake and staring at him. Upon seeing the new
dress, anger rose within him so swiftly he thought he would
explode. She had known he would not be home until late. For whom had she dressed?
"Why are you up and dressed like that?" Tanner was
amazed that in his anger his voice sounded so normal.
When Stacy answered she did not sound guilty, only
unhappy. "I thought you were giving me a surprise party."
A stunned silence followed this announcement as the
anger drained out of Tanner.
"I am giving you a surprise party," he admitted after
several heartbeats. "On your birthday, the thirtieth,"
Tanner heard her sigh.
"Whom did you ask about the date of my birthday?"
"Lucinda," Tanner answered, feeling more confused than
ever.
Stacy actually managed a small laugh. "Lucinda has never
been able to get dates straight. My grandfather's birthday is
the thirtieth, not mine."
The room was silent for a full 30 seconds.
"Anastasia," Tanner finally said, his voice deep and intense,
"are you trying to tell me that today is your birthday?"
The question was no more out of his mouth than the clock
on the mantel chimed 12 times. When it ended, Stacy answered
him.
"It was yesterday, actually. I thought you knew, Tanner, and
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that your trip was a cover for a surprise party. That's why I didn't tell you."
Tanner's relief over the fact that she'd not been with
another man was short-lived. He'd missed his wife's birthday.
In just a few strides he was before Stacy's chair, taking her
hands and pulling her into his embrace. Tanner's heart pounded
with dread as he held her tightly against him.
"You're crushing my new dress," Stacy told him, but her
concern was halfhearted.
"I'll buy you a new one--I'll buy a closet full of new.
dresses." The words came from above her as Tanner rested his
chin on her head and continued to hold her close.
"I'm all right, Tanner," Stacy told him. "I wasn't all right
before you came home, but I am now."
Tanner's eyes slid shut with pain. He hated the thought
that she must have urged Rayna to do her best, and then sat in
her room, looking beautiful and waiting for a party that never
materialized
"I'll make this up to you." Tanner now held her by the arms
and tried to study her face in the small glow of the fire.
"There is no need," Stacy assured him. "I understand, and
it wasn't your fault."
He ignored her words. "Would you like your present
now?"
"You have my present?" Stacy was indescribably pleased.
She told herself that it wasn't the day itself that mattered, but
the celebration. At the moment it suited her fine that her
birthday "party" was going to be just her and Tanner, sitting
together while she opened her gift.
"Wait here," Tanner urged, and Stacy stood still for the
minutes he was gone. It took a little time, but when he returned
he was carrying a jeweler's box and a lighted lantern.
He lit the other two on the mantel before presenting the box
to Stacy.
"Happy birthday, sweetheart."
Stacy opened the top and gasped. Inside lay a necklace.
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There didn't seem to be any more to it than gold and diamonds,
seemingly hundreds of them.
"Oh, Tanner. It's simply breathtaking."
"I take it you like it?"
"I love it, but--"
"But what?" Tanner prompted her when she stopped and
looked at him in horror.
"What if I lose it?"
Tanner made a low sound in his throat, one of complete
disregard.
"I'll buy you another." This said he lifted the priceless
object from its bed of satin and hooked it around his wife's
neck. Stacy was trembling as she looked in the mirror that
hung over the mantel.
"Oh, Tanner." Stacy didn't seem capable of other words.
Without warning she turned and threw her arms around his
neck. She tried to thank him then, but was interrupted by a
huge yawn that she simply couldn't suppress.
"We'd better get to bed." Tanner's voice was amused
Stacy yawned again. "Would you mind if I didn't come
right now, Tanner?"
The change in him was instantaneous. "No." His voice was
cold, belying the word. "What is it you need to do?"
"It's nothing," Stacy assured him quickly, startled by the
change in him and the note of intolerance in his tone. "If you'll
unbutton me, I'll get ready for bed"
It was as if a bucket of ice had been thrown on their
celebration. Tanner knew he'd caused it with the tone of his
voice, but her reluctance to join him in bed disturbed him no
end
In silence he unbuttoned Stacy. She reached for the back
of her neck and unhooked the necklace. Standing still, necklace
grasped in her hand, she watched her husband stalk from
the sitting room. By the time she gained the bedroom, Tanner
was in bed. For the first time there seemed to be a wall
between them. Tanner told her goodnight but did not touch
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"Thank you for the necklace," Stacy said from her side of
the bed.
"You're welcome," Tanner answered briefly, leaving Stacy
in the dark as to what she had done or how she was supposed
to fix it.
An hour later Stacy lay listening to Tanner's even breathing
and knew she was going to have to get up. It had all been so
innocent. If only she had told him right away that she needed
something to eat, he might not have grown angry. Stacy silently
sighed at her own lack of courage, her own inability to
stand up for herself.
With very subtle and quiet movements, she slipped from
the covers. She didn't light a lantern until she'd reached her
sitting room and then carried it out into the hall. If Tanner had
been hungry, he'd have rung for a meal, but Stacy couldn't
bring herself to wake someone just to wait on her.
She had just entered the kitchen and set the lantern down
when her husband's voice sounded behind her. He was coldly
furious.
"What are you doing down here?"
"Oh, Tanner," Stacy's hand flew to her throat. "You startled
me.
"Answer my question." He ignored her fear. "What are you
doing down here?"
"I'm sorry I woke you. I tried to go to sleep, I really did, but
I'm hungry and I thought if I ate something, I could sleep. I'll
come back up now so you won't be disturbed."
Stacy picked up the lantern, but Tanner didn't move. Stacy,
afraid of angering him more, simply held her place.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Tanner was calming.
"I wanted to, but you seemed so upset. I thought I could
wait until morning,"
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"Why didn't you ring for something?"
Stacy shrugged, feeling miserably inadequate to be a
[duchess. But that was not all. Things had not been completely
: right between them since they said their goodbyes for the trip,
and Stacy, not really understanding the problem but assuming
she'd done something wrong, didn't know how to put the
relationship back on firm footing.
"Do you really need something to eat?"
"I can wait until morning," Stacy hurried to tell him, but
Tanner just stared at her until she felt compelled to apologize.
"I'm sorry for whatever I've done wrong, Tanner. I think it
must have started a few days ago. I'm not really certain, but
whatever I've done to make you upset, I'm sorry."
Tanner couldn't take the way her eyes stared at him beseechingly
or the sound of her sweet voice in misery. Thoughts
of Leslie had ridden him hard since he'd agreed to marry
Stacy, but never as roughly as in the last 48 hours. His black
|( mood was terrifying his wife, and he was going to have to get a
grip on himself. He was just about to say something when
there was a rustling on the far side of the room.
"Excuse me, my lord, but I thought I heard voices." Winsow's
cook stood across the room. "Is there something I can
get for you?"
"My wife is hungry."
'Very well, I'll fix you right up." The rather plump woman
was cheerful for the middle of the night. "Would you care for
something, your Grace?"
"No. Just see to my wife."
Tanner left then, and Stacy felt utterly wretched. She
stared at the door long after he exited, asking herself what
she'd done.
"Now, my lady, if you'll Just make yourself comfortable in
the dining room, I'll bring something right in."
"I'll be fine here," Stacy told the older woman absently,
missing the servant's shocked expression.
Cook watched Stacy take a chair at the small, crude table