Rebel (38 page)

“What if we don’t have another son?”

“Theodosia? Theodora?” Ian said, looking at her then, and her lashes fell, because she didn’t want him to see how glad she was that he seemed so certain they would have other children.

“I like Sean Michael,” she said simply. “And actually, I rather like Teddy for a girl as well.”

“Then Sean Michael you shall be,” Ian informed his son.

Sean was just a few days old and Alaina had been sleeping with him by her side one morning when she heard a slight tapping at her door. She awoke drowsily and clasped her nightgown together, as she had dozed off while the baby was nursing. She looked to the door and started, realizing that it was Risa Magee who stood there. She nearly jumped, remembered the baby, and more carefully sat up, trying to smooth back her hair with some facsimile of dignity. She wouldn’t have traded the baby for anything in the world, but neither could she help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Risa was elegant. Slim, yet so curvacously so, her beautiful dark hair swept up into a perfect chignon, her eyes brilliant against her dark coloring.

“Congratulations,” Risa said very quietly, tiptoeing into the room and around the bed to look down on Sean. “He’s gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Alaina murmured, watching the other woman. She hesitated. “And thank you, too, for covering for me so swiftly the other night.”

“You certainly did manage to be dramatic,” Risa smiled.

“It was not my intent,” Alaina said, “and I am grateful to you.” She paused. “I’m not at all sure why you would want to be kind to me.”

Risa seemed startled, then laughed softly. “Why, indeed? I don’t know, actually. Maybe we share a sisterhood as women, or something of the like. But you’re right; we might as well be out in the open between us. I can’t begin to understand why I would want to help you in any way. Sean’s a beautiful baby—and he should have been mine. Except, of course, that you stole Ian.”

Alaina gasped, sitting up. “But I didn’t—”

“It’s not really your fault. I should have slept with him myself.”

“I never—”

Risa laughed, looking pointedly at the baby. “You must have.”

Alaina shook her head, determined to make her point. “I didn’t sleep with him before—”

“ ‘Sleeping with’… what an expression! Were people merely to
sleep,
so much mayhem could be avoided. Nevertheless, all right, a fine point. I should have jumped naked into a pool with him.”

“I didn’t jump naked into a pool with him!” Alaina protested.

“He lied to me?” Risa said politely. Alaina flushed, unable to believe they were having this conversation; but then, she had actually brought it about. She winced inwardly, realizing that Ian had most probably been painfully honest with Risa about everything. He no doubt shared much more of his heart and mind with Risa than he ever had with her.

Suddenly some of the enormous contentment she had felt at the baby’s birth was jarred. Even now, Risa seemed to mock herself far more than Alaina, yet the honesty of her manner made Alaina uneasy.

“I don’t know if Ian lied, because I don’t know what he said,” Alaina informed Risa. “But I assure you, I meant no ill to you—or him. I never set out to entrap Ian, I didn’t intend what happened, and I didn’t actually
want
to marry him at all!” she said, beginning quite evenly, but feeling her temper rise as she spoke. Then, to her horror, she realized that Ian stood in the doorway.

Risa didn’t see him. “Well, it doesn’t really matter now, does it?” she asked softly. “You are married, and you have a beautiful child, and congratulations are in order.”

Ian stepped into the room, and Risa spun around, startled. Alaina wanted to sink into the bed and disappear. She was painfully aware that Ian had heard her words, she felt the coldness of his stare.

“Ian. He’s absolutely beautiful,” Risa complimented again. She was so smooth, so composed, so poised. Alaina felt ill, yet she desperately wanted to be dignified.

“Thank you, Risa. Alaina, is the baby dressed?” Ian’s tone was smooth, smooth as silk. “I was anxious to have him baptized, and Colonel Magee and Risa have agreed to stand as godparents.”

“Now?” Alaina whispered, stunned. Then she didn’t know why she was surprised; parents were naturally anxious
to have their babes baptized as quickly as possible, simply because life was so very fragile for a little one.

But he hadn’t even asked her about having Risa and her father stand as godparents. Colonel Magee had often served as Ian’s commanding officer, so it wasn’t at all unusual that he should stand up for the child, but…

Ian strode to the bed, gently scooping up Sean, placing him in Risa’s arms. She laughed with soft delight, holding the babe gently.

“He is just adorable!”

A tremor of unease swept through Alaina, and she wanted to snatch her baby back. Ian, Risa, and the baby were extremely handsome together.

Risa looked over at her and seemed to notice her pallor. “We’ll have him right back,” she promised. Alaina bit into her lower lip and forced a smile.

“If you could just give me a few minutes, I’ll come with you,” Alaina said, ready to slide out of bed and dress.

“You shouldn’t be up,” Ian said flatly, “and the reverend only has so much time. It isn’t necessary for you to be there.”

Alaina smoothed her hands over the sheets, willing herself not to fight or argue—she was determined that she wasn’t going to be humiliated further in front of Risa Magee. She had never quite understood why poor women were expected to bear their babies and go right back to work while ladies of society were confined to their beds for days after the fact. But she didn’t have her strength back, and she wasn’t going to risk falling on her face.

“He’s got quite a temper and he may not take kindly to baptism,” she said, smiling at Risa. “I hope he’ll behave.”

“We’ll be fine,” Risa assured her and left the room.

Ian stood in the doorway, staring at Alaina. Then he closed the door.

Alaina wanted to jump up and call him back. She felt so alone.

What else?
she mocked herself. She had just told the woman he’d intended to marry that she hadn’t wanted to be his wife at all. She might as well have written out a permission slip for the two to commit adultery.

* * *

Despite Alaina’s fear, Ian couldn’t have been more courteous in the days that followed—though he kept a distance from her. The doctor had warned her that there would be “Ahem! No, er, intimate marital relations” for some weeks to come, and so she couldn’t argue with Ian’s determination to keep separate rooms. Besides, her pride wouldn’t allow her to insist that he come sleep with her. Still, she did her best to be amiable, and it was easy, because they were both so fascinated with being parents. They spent many hours with Sean laid out on the bed, assigning his various features to family members, then laughing and agreeing that he looked like Sean, and that was that. Sean Michael McKenzie.

Sean was a little more than three weeks old when an invitation to another of Rose Greenhow’s soirees arrived. Alaina realized that she had been living in a clamshell, in a greater isolation than ever. She had been so preoccupied with the baby and her own troubles that she hadn’t given a thought to the world around her. She hadn’t even glanced at a newspaper—her only reading had been the letters she had received from Ian’s family, congratulations from James and Teela, Jerome, Brent, and Sydney, and Jennifer and Lawrence. And since the day Risa and her father had been to the house, Alaina and Ian had received no visitors. She was aware that Ian had made a point of being home, and despite the warmth they shared regarding Sean, in other matters he had smoothly erected a wall of reserve toward her. Alaina was suddenly extremely anxious to get out and discover what was going on in the rest of the country.

Ian was working in his library, poring over charts and maps, when the invitation arrived, hand delivered by one of Rose Greenhow’s maids. Alaina brought it to him, hesitating in the doorway as she watched him work, then knocking softly. He glanced up quickly. There was a newspaper at his side which he folded and put aside, indicating she should come in. Wordlessly, Alaina handed him the invitation. He read it and handed it back to her.

“It’s too soon for you to be going to parties,” he told her.

“Ian, it’s not. Please, I’d love to get out for just a
few hours. I’ve not left this house at all since the baby was born.”

He looked back to his work. “Alaina—”

“Please, Ian?”

“And what about Sean?”

The baby was a serious and legitimate consideration, since she had refused the services of a wet nurse. “Ian, we’re but a few blocks away from Mrs. Greenhow’s. I’ll feed him right before we leave.” He didn’t answer right away, and she thought that he was looking for excuses.

“Please, Ian!”

He hesitated a moment longer, then shrugged, as if this evening was going to be an unpleasantly he was going to have to face sooner or later. He turned back to his work. “As you wish,” he said simply.

Ian had never seen his wife more beautiful than when she came down the stairs that night. She still wore black, in Teddy’s honor, and he knew she would do so for a full year. But she wore black very well, her hair appearing like spun gold against it, her skin like porcelain. Her breasts were enhanced from nursing, and her waist appeared more slender than ever. She wore her hair swept up, with a few tendrils falling in evocative curls down her nape and over her shoulders. Watching her come down the stairs with her eyes flashing a brilliant topaz and her cheeks flushed, he felt his senses go into a spin. She reached him, and the scent of her perfume was completely intoxicating. But it would be several more weeks before he could touch her again, and he didn’t dare brush her cheek with a kiss or reflect too long upon her cleavage. For a moment, he wryly envied his son her breasts. Then he thought again with weary resolution that by the time it was medically prudent to make love to his wife again, she wouldn’t want to feel the least brush of his fingers.

“Shall we go?” he inquired, making no comment on her appearance. She nodded, and he noted that her eyes swept over the length of his uniform—with distance, he thought. She hadn’t liked his Union uniform since her father had been killed.

She caught him staring at her in the lamplight that
trickled into the carriage, and she nervously looked to her lap, smoothing her skirt.

“Is there something wrong?” she inquired.

“On the contrary. You look dazzling.”

She looked toward the window. “I adore Sean, and you know it. I am delighted to be with him. But I am not accustomed to such inactivity.”

“And naturally you never did want to be married to me and dragged to the wretched North,” he reminded her softly, wondering why the words she had spoken to Risa still disturbed him so. They were no surprise. And he didn’t know why he was creating war between them now. It had been painful to keep his distance from her as her waist slimmed and her breasts swelled, but the time they had spent together had actually been quite domestic. Happy.

That was about to change. With or without his desire to make war.

Alaina continued to stare out the window. “I was merely trying to explain to Risa that I hadn’t intended to destroy her life.”

“I can’t see how you’ve destroyed her life,” he said flatly.

She looked at him with a peculiarly wistful smile, her eyes a shimmering topaz. “Really? Surely you are aware that she’s still in love with you?”

He didn’t mean to be cruel in any way; he just knew that she would be damning him before the night was over. “Do you think so?” he inquired politely, as if concerned and surprised, yet a raw pain seemed to tear af his heart. Yes, Risa cared. And he cared about her as well. But he had become consumed with his wife, and no matter what barriers he tried to erect around his soul, she slipped through them.

And as of tonight… well, he wouldn’t worry about it now.

“Ian,” she said huskily, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes upon them. “You are no fool. You are well aware of Miss Risa Magee.”

“We’re here,” he said as the carriage came to a halt in front of Rose’s handsome home. He stepped down, reaching for her. He should have told her more about
his plans, he thought fleetingly. But he craved peace, as long as he could have it.

When he escorted her to the door, he felt as if something had lodged in his throat. He was going to choke on his own damned desire for peace.

As they entered the foyer, Alaina offered him a grateful smile—she was so glad to be out. She felt a sweet rush of excitement to be involved with life again. So many people greeted her like an old friend; everyone was concerned for her and the baby. Risa was there, naturally, as stunning and poised as ever in royal blue silk. Colonel Magee was grave and kindly, concerned with Alaina’s welfare, and quite solicitious. Yet after she had exchanged pleasantries with a number of people, she found herself becoming part of conversations that weren’t pleasant in the least.

“Major McKenzie, just what is the world coming to?” Jill Sanders, the wife of a young naval lieutenant, demanded. “Can you just imagine? They’ve gone off and formed a new country—the Confederate States of America!”

“What?” Alaina asked, startled.

“Oh, my dear, of course, you’ve been busy with your precious little one and all—so soon after a babe, and you’ve got a waist like a my pinkie ring already! Ah, but domesticity does take one out of the news, eh? The cotton states have formed a government—there are seven of them now, though Texas didn’t manage to get a delegate to Montgomery in time to be in the forming of it all. Texas just seceded on February first, you see, and their mockery of a government was formed on the fourth. Major! Had you heard that Jeff Davis was provisional president? Why, the man was a senator, a soldier! He was Secretary of War for President Pierce, and now… and that Alexander Stephens! Why, I heard him say myself that he was dead set against secession, and just look at him—vice president of the Confederate States of America!”

Alaina stared at Ian, feeling as if a fire had been set inside her stomach. Not a word. He knew all this. And he hadn’t said a single thing to her.