Authors: Margaret Tanner
After their meal they circulated amongst their guests once more, and Tommy felt like a hypocrite accepting their good wishes. When she found herself standing alone, Sophia minced up to her.
“You deliberately let Adam compromise you that night at the Cavendish place. I suppose he made you with child and is doing the honorable thing?” She said it loud enough for several other people to overhear.
“Listen here, you ugly, vicious witch.” Tommy clenched her hands to stop herself from doing her rival an injury.
Adam strolled up and heard the last few words. He savaged Tommy with just one look. “You’ll have to forgive my wife, she’s overwrought. The excitement of marrying me must be too much for her.”
With a triumphant smile Sophia glided away.
“I won’t have you hurling abuse at my friends.”
“Friends! That-that creature accused me of being with child.”
“Hopefully you will be after tonight.” He picked up her hand and drew it to his lips in a great display of affection just as the Commissioner of Police walked by.
Finally, Adam decided they should leave. Tommy didn’t know where she got the strength to sit through the speeches and congratulations without running out of the hotel’s private dining room. One decent thing came out of the wedding. It took Jamie's mind off losing Touser. After crying for a couple of nights he seemed to have accepted the loss of his friend.
When she watched the tender glances David directed at Fiona, she felt envious and sad, because Adam would never look at her in such a way.
Adam helped her into the buggy with an impersonal hand under one elbow, and lifted Jamie up next to her without speaking. Her head pounded. A dull ache throbbed at the back of her eyes, a combination of heat and nervous exhaustion.
Jamie chattered away quite unconcerned Adam only answered him now and again—and her not at all.
“Touser died and went to heaven,” Jamie announced suddenly.
“What?”
“Touser fell asleep and died of old age,” Tommy cut in, gesticulating behind Jamie's back for Adam not to ask too many questions.
He nodded. “Well, he did have an interesting, long life for a dog, and he was lucky having you for a friend.”
“That's what Tommy told me. We gave him a funeral and he has a grave, a cross and everything in the pine plantation. He’s got his own special Christmas tree now and we’ll never cut it down.”
“I’ll find you another dog, if you like,” Adam offered.
“No, if I can't have Touser, I don't want another dog.”
With every mile they drove closer to Adam’s home, the more nervous she became. Abruptly, the thought popped into Tommy’s aching head that she could tell Adam she was “indisposed.” She squirmed in her seat just thinking about broaching such a delicate matter with him. No decent, well brought-up young lady should even contemplate such a shocking thing. It might gain her an extra week before she had to submit to him, though. Could she do it? What was worse, broaching such a taboo subject with him or putting up with his lust? It wouldn’t be lust if he loved her. She would welcome him with open arms.
“I’m going to enjoy begetting my son.” He lowered his voice so Jamie would not hear. “My seed planted in you will produce only the best.”
“Go to hell,” she whispered.
I’m behaving like a fishwife
.
If her appalling behavior was meant to upset him, it failed because he just laughed and started up a conversation with Jamie.
They arrived at the homestead. She couldn’t think of it as home now, probably never would. Adam encircled her waist with his hands as he lifted her down.
“Are you unwell?” He lowered his voice and it washed over her like a gentle caress. If she deluded herself into believing he cared, the consequences could be ruinous.
She started trembling, so he swung her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing, and strode into the house. As she rested her cheek against his chest she could feel the strong, regular beat of his heart. Here was her chance to tell him of her “indisposition” but she found when it came to uttering the words, she couldn’t.
“What’s wrong with Tommy?” A frightened Jamie clutched at her hand.
“There’s nothing wrong with her,” Adam reassured with a smile. “It’s tradition for a groom to carry his bride across the threshold of her new home.”
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked once Jamie got out of earshot.
“I've got a frightful headache.”
“Too much excitement; have a lie down before dinner.”
He still held her in his arms. Down the hallway he strode, passing several closed doors until he came to one standing ajar. He shoved it open with his foot, and they entered the bedroom.
Jamie followed them. When Adam stood her up near the bed, he rushed over and clutched her hand, his eyes showing a fear he valiantly tried to hide.
“Are you sick, Tommy?”
“I’m just a little tired, too excited about getting married,” she lied. “If I have a rest I'll soon feel better again.”
“Jamie, see Mrs. Rogers, tell her to bring Tommy some tea.”
“Have a nice rest, it will make you better.” Jamie reached up and patted her cheek with a small, tanned hand.
“Thank you, I know it will.”
“Jamie.” Adam’s voice stopped him in the doorway. “This room belongs to Tommy and me now; you aren’t to come in here unless I specifically say so. Do you understand?”
“He’s only a baby,” she protested.
“Stay out of this. He must learn to respect our privacy. You do understand, don’t you?”
He nodded.
“Good, well run off and see Mrs. Rogers about Tommy’s tea. I’ll meet you in the kitchen where we can both have a drink. I’ve got something special to show you.”
Jamie started out of the room then dashed back to plant several enthusiastic kisses all over her face. “Have a nice rest.”
As soon as Jamie scuttled off, Adam reached out to undo the bodice of her gown.
“No.” She caught hold of his hand and his skin felt warm to her touch.
His mouth tightened. “You'll be more comfortable with it off.” Ignoring her protests, he unbuttoned the bodice and slid the gown down over her shoulders. He sucked in his breath when he saw the top half of her breasts peeping out over her lacy camisole.
He turned back the bedclothes and laid her on a cool, silky sheet.
Mrs. Rogers brought in the tea.
After
she drank her tea, Tommy fell asleep.
****
Adam’s gentle shaking roused her. “Dinner will be served soon.” His warm breath fanned her face as he leaned over her. He was now wearing dark trousers with a white evening shirt. “I always dress for dinner. Are you recovered?” He brushed his fingertips across her forehead.
“Yes, thank you.” She had a strange, inexplicable urge to touch his freshly shaved cheek. Was she mad?
“You have about fifteen minutes.”
Once he left, she slid off the bed and had a quick wash, before slipping into a cream taffeta gown with a scarf drapery. As she tidied her hair she glanced around the bedroom. It was papered in a floral bouquet, set against a muted striped background.
A huge cedar wardrobe had richly inlaid side panels and a center mirror. The dressing table and matching washstand were topped with pure white marble. A silk brocaded easy chair matched the claret color carpet. White lace curtains fluttered at the open window.
The brass bed had a Swiss lace counterpane; everything looked tasteful, expensive and chosen with care.
She stepped into the hallway. Many wealthy people relegated their children to the nursery for meals. Some only saw them once a day after they were freshly scrubbed from the bath. She didn’t believe in this, because of the unorthodox way her father brought her up, and she would fight tooth and nail for Jamie to eat with them.
Finding the dining room more by instinct than anything else, her heart leapt. Both Adam and Jamie waited for her. This room measured at least twenty feet by thirty feet in size, with an impressive black marble fireplace and ornamental over mantel at one end.
Bell pulls on either side of the fireplace were in the form of heavy tassels. A mahogany buffet polished to show the rich grain of the wood held testimonial plates and silver ware. She couldn’t fault Adam’s home or his furnishings.
The oval table matched the dinner wagon set up near the doorway. A magnificent twelve-branch chandelier, with button-like prism drops, and floral etched shades, lit up the room.
Adam pulled out a chair for her, and after sitting down she ran her hand over the pristine white tablecloth. The silver cutlery and rose patterned, bone china dinner service complimented each other.
A striking house, exquisite furniture, a ruggedly handsome husband and future children, why couldn’t she be happy with that? Most women would be. Not her though. Crying for the moon maybe, but she wanted more—Adam’s love. If she had that she wouldn’t mind living in a tent.
Their meal arrived, an aromatic clear beef
consommé
followed by roast suckling pig, applesauce, roast vegetables and green peas. This was followed in a leisurely fashion by blackberry pie and cream.
They retired to the drawing room to drink their tea. It was after eight o'clock by this time, and Jamie started to nod off.
“Time for bed.” She took him by the hand.
“Goodnight, Adam.” Jamie stifled a yawn.
“Goodnight, son,” he said kindly. “Sleep well.”
Tommy’s heart gave a painful lurch because Adam already treated Jamie as his own child. If only he would look on her as something more than a brood mare for the sons he wanted.
Jamie's room was three doors away from the main bedroom, furnished with a bedstead with hand-painted animal artwork on the oval convex. There was a cedar dressing table and matching wardrobe. Had Adam slept in this room as a child? What would he have been like? She closed her eyes and visualized a sturdy child with tanned limbs, black curls and eyes as gray as storm-tossed seas.
She listened to Jamie’s heart rendering, simple prayers. Just “God bless Tommy, God bless Adam and God bless David, and I hope you like it in heaven, Touser.”
She kissed him goodnight before returning to the now empty drawing room. Glancing around, she spotted double glass doors leading outside.
Adam leaned with his arms resting on the verandah rail, staring out into the darkness. Trees whispered in the gentle breeze. She watched him for a moment, wondering whether he was oblivious to her presence or whether he just preferred to ignore her.
“I feel rather weary. I might go to bed now.”
“All right, I'll be with you in a little while.” He didn't even bother turning around.
“Couldn't we wait, I mean…” She bit her lip.
“No, you gave me your word, I expect you to keep it.”
She opened her mouth to plead, but realizing it would be futile, turned to go back inside.
In the bedroom she prepared to retire. Brushing her hair in front of the mirror, she saw a chalk-white face staring back at her. Her hands trembled. She couldn’t decide whether it was apprehension or reckless excitement at the thought of Adam’s hands roaming over her body, the mastery of those sensuous lips moving against hers. She felt a sudden hot surge through her body.