Authors: Connie Mason
Mammy Lou looked dubious but finally uncovered the still form and offered him to Adam’s view. Almost reverently Adam regarded the lifeless child, blood of his blood, flesh of his flesh, and then he turned away, unable to restrain the tears streaming down his cheeks. Mammy Lou continued down the stairs and Adam, steeling himself to face Alexa, entered the bedroom.
Alexa looked incredibly small and pale lying in the bed with her eyes closed. She did not stir when Adam entered, nor did she acknowledge his presence in any way. Immediately the doctor drew Adam aside.
“I did all I could, Lord Penwell.” Doctor Lambert shrugged, his weary face etched with sadness. “It was as I expected. The child’s skull was crushed in the fall. It’s a terrible blow to your wife. I know, but Lady Foxworth is young and healthy, there will be plenty of time for other children.”
“How is my wife, doctor?” Adam asked in a low voice.
“As well as can be expected. As births go this one wasn’t particularly long or difficult. But I’m afraid your wife is taking the stillbirth badly. She’ll need all your support and love to surmount this tragedy.”
“By God she’ll have it!” vowed Adam in a hoarse whisper. If she’ll accept it, he thought but did not add.
His job done. Doctor Lambert prepared to leave, moving about the room gathering up his instruments and packing them in his medical bag. “Summon me immediately should a fever develop,” the doctor said in parting.
“Is there much danger of that?” Adam asked sharply.
“There is always danger of fever. See that she takes plenty of liquids and stays in bed a week or two.” Then he was gone.
Gingerly Adam approached the bed but refrained from speaking should Alexa be sleeping. When she slowly turned her head and opened her eyes, Adam was stunned as well as saddened by the hurt and bewildered look lurking in their violet depths.
“He’s dead. My baby’s dead, Adam,” she said in a flat voice devoid of all emotion.
“I know, my love. It hurts me, too. I wanted him as badly as you did. But there will be other children. We’ve plenty of time.”
Alexa blinked. Though she was weary beyond bearing, her voice, surprisingly strong, conveyed her contempt. “How can you say that. Adam? You married me for one reason only, to give your child a name. Now we have nothing! There is no child! Your obligation to me is ended.”
“Alexa, my love,” Adam reasoned, “you’re tired and distraught, and this is no time to discuss our affairs. You blame me for our baby’s death and God knows you are probably right. I blame myself. But don’t judge me now, Alexa, wait until the hurt passes and we have time to talk.”
“You’re right, Adam, I am tired. I want to be alone. You can’t possibly understand how I feel. My baby meant everything to me. At long last I would have someone to love me for myself. Now I have no one.” She turned her face to the wall.
“You have me, Alexa,” Adam whispered softly. But she was already asleep.
The next day the tiny baby was buried beneath a live oak tree in a small box lined with velvet. Alexa was in no
condition to attend for she awoke burning with fever. The doctor was sent for and he immediately ordered cooling baths to bring down the fever. Adam insisted on performing that task for his wife and none could persuade him otherwise. For three days and nights Alexa waged a violent battle against the raging infection, and on the fourth day emerged victorious as the fever broke.
During those desperate days when Alexa hovered between life and death, Adam refused to leave her side, patiently forcing life-giving liquids down her parched throat, spoon by painful spoon. Only when Doctor Lambert assured him she would live was he persuaded to leave her side.
It was during his long vigil at Alexa’s bedside that Adam learned of his wife’s attraction to the Fox. Time and again she called out his name in her delirium, stunning Adam. They had met so briefly that he was astounded she could have formed such an attachment to the privateer. But obviously the Fox had impressed Alexa greatly for her to call out his name so desperately, Adam thought. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine Alexa would form a romantic attachment for Fox. Had he known, he would have made certain things were done differently.
Though Alexa’s physical recuperation pleased the doctor, her mental state definitely did not. Her melancholia reached a point where it threatened to destroy her, as the doctor was quick to impress upon Adam. “Is there nothing you can do, Lord Penwell?” he asked worriedly. “Your wife’s body has mended nicely but she has lost the desire to live. Was that baby so important to her that her mind refuses to look to the future?”
Adam shrugged helplessly. He had tried to talk to
Alexa but she refused to listen. She blamed him for her baby’s death and so far nothing he could do or say consoled her. “I’ve tried, Lord knows I’ve tried to get through to her,” he told Dr. Lambert.
“Is there no one who can talk to her?” the doctor suggested. “Should there be, I strongly advise you to do it soon.”
After that conversation Adam was thoughtful a long time, determined to go to any lengths to bring Alexa out of her despondency. Somehow, someway, he’d find someone or something to save Alexa from retreating from life. Desperate situations called for drastic measures, and considering what he was about to do it was obvious he was driven by desperation.
Alexa sat listlessly in the lounge Adam had thoughtfully pulled up to the window, her hands folded motionless in her lap. She knew she should be out taking exercise in the late winter sunshine but she could not gather the energy to care. Frozen in her own private hell Alexa drew more and more into a shell of her own making.
Hattie was careful to dress her attractively in soft, flowing robes and brush her dark hair until it shone like glass, but it mattered little to Alexa how she appeared to others. She knew both the doctor and Adam were concerned about her but she was content to sit and let the world go by. How could she make them understand she had no intention of dying just yet? When she tried to explain they refused to believe her, especially in light of the way she repeatedly pushed her food away when it was forced upon her. Didn’t they realize that she needed little nourishment to sustain her dormant body? What she did need was time. Time to come to grips with her grief and time to evaluate her feelings for Adam.
There were times in the past weeks when she actually felt sorry for her husband. His own grief appeared genuine, but when he attempted to explain about Gwen, she would hear none of it. She couldn’t, not yet. Meanwhile she was content to hibernate like an animal whose bodily functions stopped for long periods of time while she existed in a deep, dark void.
As was his custom since her illness, Adam bid Alexa goodnight before he retired to the room he had been using since Alexa’s illness. Disappointment etched his features when she barely acknowledged his gesture, as if it was not worth the effort. When Hattie came to ready her for sleep she allowed herself to be handled like a child and tucked into bed. The faithful servant spent a few minutes banking the fire, then left the room, softly closing the door behind her. So deep had Alexa sunk into despair that she was unaware of how close she hovered to total retreat from life.
Sleep. Healing, almost like death but without the same permanence: elusive. As much as Alexa desired it, it would not claim her. Thoughts. Crushing, too complicated to face: painful. They would not stop. And then a noise, barely a breath, yet Alexa sensed it, every fiber of her being attuned to the raspy whisper that sometimes haunted her dreams.
“Alexa, my love.”
Adam? No, not Adam. Fox! But how … ? Raising on one elbow, Alexa peered into the darkness, imagining a masked face lurking within the shadows. “Who is there? Adam? Is that you?”
“No. Alexa, not Adam.” There was no mistaking the husky whisper.
“Fox! Where did you come from? You shouldn’t be here, it’s too dangerous! The English are determined to have you at the end of a rope.”
“Would you care, milady?” he asked, stepping from a darkened corner of the room into the light of the flickering fire. Alexa’s breath lodged painfully in her throat at the welcome sight of him, his powerful, well-muscled body moving with the grace of a sleek cat. He looked tough, lean, and sinewy, and Alexa wished he would show her his face.
“You know I would, Fox,” came Alexa’s low reply. “But why have you come? You know Adam is a royalist. If he found you here he would turn you in. Oh. Fox, please leave now before you are discovered!”
“I’ll take my chances, milady,” rasped Fox hoarsely. “I came because I heard you were ill. I had to see for myself that you were recovering. I … I heard you hold your life in little regard.”
A stunned expression marched across Alexa’s face. “Where … where did you hear that?”
“I have my ways,” he said mysteriously. “Is it true? Have you no desire to recover?”
Alexa’s dusky lashes swept her pale cheeks, unwilling to show Fox just how close he had come to the truth. “I lost my baby, Fox,” she said, as if that explained everything.
“I know,” he sympathized. “But you are young. Alexa, there will be others.”
“The child could have been yours, you know.”
Fox was quiet a long time. “Aye,” he acknowledged sadly, quietly.
“There were times when I wished it were.”
“Are you so unhappy as Adam’s wife? Does he abuse you? Neglect you?”
“N-no, nothing like that. But he doesn’t love me. He wants Lady Gwen. What does life hold for me? Why should I live?”
“Life for me, milady,” Fox urged huskily as he settled
down beside her on the bed and took her in his arms, noticing as he did the fragile quality of her bones beneath his huge hands.
“For what purpose? I am another man’s wife.”
“It will make me happy knowing that you are content. A privateer’s life is hazardous at best and I would not ask you to share it.”
“Will … will I ever see your face?”
“I promise you, Alexa, one day you will know my face.”
“You mean it?”
“It’s a solemn vow. But you must promise me something in return.”
“What?” Alexa asked warily.
“Two things. First you must promise me you will concentrate on getting well.” Alexa nodded, then waited expectantly for his second request. When it came it shocked her. “I want you to be happy with Adam.” Waving aside the objections on the tip of her tongue, he continued. “Adam is a good man and I believe he loves you.”
“You’re mistaken,” Alexa interjected stubbornly “He does not love me!”
“What man could know you and not love you?” Fox rasped quietly.
“You would embrace another man’s cause?” Alexa’s face registered hurt as well as surprise.
“The man is your husband, milady. I would rest easier if I knew you were happy and cared for.”
“You want me happy with another man? What kind of man are you?”
“One who loves you and wants only what is best for you. Will you promise me this, Alexa?”
There was a time, before she lost her child, when she fancied herself in love with Adam, Alexa mused thoughtfully. Could she, for Fox’s sake, still find an
ember of that lost love somewhere in the chambers of her heart? “If I promise to do as you ask will I ever see you again?”
“Didn’t I just tell you that one day you would see my face?” he chided gently. “Never doubt it, my sweet lady, we will meet again. It’s preordained.”
“Then I agree,” Alexa gave in grudgingly, “although I truly believe you are wrong to think Adam loves me. Now you must go, Fox. It’s too dangerous for you to linger here.”
“A boon first, milady. A kiss from your soft lips.”
Without waiting for an answer she felt his lips touch hers like a whisper, more of a caress than a kiss. It was as tender and light as a summer breeze and vaguely reminiscent of another’s. He attempted no other intimacy as he reluctantly released her lips.
“Fox, I …”
“No, Alexa, we’ve made our pact to one another, there’s nothing more to say but good-bye—until we meet again.” He was gone before she could form a reply, leaving nothing in his wake but the tender impression of his lips on hers.
During the weeks following Fox’s stealthy appearance in her bedroom, Alexa amazed Doctor Lambert and Adam by her rapid recovery. “Whatever you did or said,” the good doctor remarked to Adam, “worked miracles.” Adam flashed an inscrutable smile but said nothing, for he, too, was stunned as well as thrilled by Alexa’s complete turnabout. Not only had Fox’s words triggered her recovery but her own youthful body reasserted its will, defying her halfhearted wish for eternal rest. Adam was secretly glad he had resorted to drastic measures in order to force Alexa back into the world of the living.
Alexa’s appetite returned along with the color in her cheeks and soon she was spending time outdoors and taking meals with Adam in the dining room. Adam knew the time was ripe to tell Alexa that he must leave again soon. First they had much to discuss. That night he accompanied her to their room but did not leave as was his usual custom since her illness.
Alexa, fearing he might want to make love to her and
unsure of what her reaction would be should he try, began nervously pacing the room. “Sit down. Alexa, please,” Adam urged, motioning toward the bed.
Reluctantly Alexa obeyed, and Adam followed, settling down beside her. “Did you want something, Adam?” she asked, remembering her promise to Fox. If Adam wished to talk she would listen. She almost giggled aloud at the thought of Adam’s resonse should he learn she was willing to listen to him only because another man had requested it. Adam looked at her strangely but did not, comment on her mirth.
“Alexa,” Adam began hesitantly, “you’re completely well now or I would not even consider leaving. But I can delay no longer. I am forced to undertake another mission.”
Alexa started to speak, then thought better of it as her jaw clamped shut with a snap.
“I have no choice, my love. Until this war is resolved one way or another I am bound to serve. I want you to understand I do not leave from choice.”
“When must you go?”