Susan Johnson (33 page)

Valerie considered herself an intelligent woman. And more importantly, a beautiful woman. With her beauty prominently displayed and her intelligence carefully concealed, she’d routinely achieved all her selfish whims. Even Trey, more difficult than most men to entice, had finally risen to the lure. That he hadn’t stayed long within her sultry domain perhaps had been expected. He was not like other men. And she was smart enough to know it. She hadn’t mentioned to her father that she’d planned all along to take Trey as her husband. (Her father was a ruthless man but not overly bright. She never confided in him.) And now that she had Trey for a husband, it was infuriating to see him slip away. Was it because of the woman? Or only his dislike of the marriage trap? She’d start with the woman.

It was interminable waiting another week before confronting this purchase of her husband’s up at the ranch, but it was necessary. Valerie hired two men her father trusted to watch Trey’s movements for a week, and four more to monitor those of his family. Her timing must be precise. She wanted to confront Trey’s lover alone, with none of the Braddock-Blacks in attendance. Since the woman apparently never left the ranch, Valerie would have to go to her. It was a matter of selecting a time when Trey and his parents were in town for the legislative session.

Trey had almost convinced Empress during the past week that it was unnecessary for her and the children to return to Winter Mountain. His marriage was no more than the ceremony,
and it wouldn’t interfere with his life in any way. A business arrangement—no more. Besides, it was dangerous to think of returning to the snowed-in valley. Even if the trip back was uneventful, the possibility of further storms could put the family in jeopardy again. He didn’t want to think of her alone, having to cope with some emergency. “Please,” he had begged, this man who had never had to ask for anything, “stay.”

Hesitant, emotionally dependent, torn with doubts, she had stayed. The children perhaps the deciding factor. “We love it here,” they had cried. “Go back? All that way? In this cold?” Trey was standing aside from the family group, attempting an expression of pleasant, rather than tremulous, interest. “Leave Papa
Trey
?” Eduard squealed and ran to Trey’s side, lifting his chubby arms to be held. Trey’s smile was charmingly bland, only with effort. With Eduard’s dark, ruffled head tucked into his shoulder, his own heart tripping with delight, Trey inquired tranquilly, “Is it settled, then?”

Their evenings that week, when Trey returned from town each night, were blissfully happy. And when the children went to bed, their hours alone were sheer heaven.

O
n Monday morning, after a weekend when Hazard and Blaze had entertained the children with a skating party and Trey had said once more, “See how happy the children are?” Empress gazed out the window at the bright winter day, contentment filling her heart.

Trey had left very early with his parents. A crucial vote was on the agenda for that afternoon, and wavering legislators required additional inspiration or exhortation, depending on the state of their consciences.

Empress and the children were still in the breakfast room when a thoroughly embarrassed Timms announced Mrs. Braddock-Black. Although the ranch was fully staffed, it was a casually run household, and Empress and her family had endeared themselves to the servants. Timms, the butler, was especially fond of Empress for her kindness to his wife, who was suffering from arthritis, and he’d attempted to halt Valerie at the main entrance. Without success.

She was hard on his heels and out to do damage. Valerie had had a seething, angry week, a week in which curious visitors
had to be dealt with, each consumed with avid interest, all inquiring about her husband’s whereabouts. It had been galling, a terrible week of sparring, rude inquiries, of shrugging off impudent remarks. A horrid nightmare she had never planned for but one she intended to remedy. She was determined to see her husband under her roof one way or another, and this interview with his paramour was only the beginning.

Timms had barely finished pronouncing her name when Valerie brushed past him, swept grandly into the cheery sunlit room, her sable cape gliding majestically behind her and, her steady blue eyes resting on Guy, said, “He can’t be one of Trey’s. He’s too old, although”—she purred sweetly—“the coloring holds true.” Her kohled eyes narrowed as her gaze settled on Eduard. “Ah, the little one—he must be Trey’s.” She turned so she and Empress were facing each other. “And yours?” So that was it, Valerie thought with glee. An answer to the inexplicable attraction. Trey had a child by this woman. Apparently he had bought her that night in Lily’s, not for the novelty of the woman but as an act of possession. She had never realized he was so fastidious about sharing, and if a child made that much difference, a child by Trey would certainly be indispensable to her marriage.

Empress had visibly stiffened at Valerie’s rudeness, and looking quickly to Timms, who was arrested in the doorway in dismay, covering her own shock with a determination that called on her full ten generations of nobility, she instructed, “Please see the children out, Timms.”

And the imperative tone, the air of command, altered Valerie’s preconceived notion of her husband’s whore. This pale-haired woman, much smaller than she expected, was not the usual fare found at Lily’s, although Lily prided herself on quality. This woman everyone had talked about, not only because she’d sold herself but also because she was dressed like a cowboy, looked neither the whore nor the lowly hired hand. And the trace of an accent that set her apart from the ordinary also placed her at some elusively haughty level. Her uncowed eyes enhanced that image.

With an internal shrug Valerie dismissed Empress’s unusual attributes. The woman could look like some grand queen for all she cared. She was a little farmgirl or ranch hand who had sold herself at a brothel for all her fine airs. Hardly the type
of woman Valerie viewed as a threat. Valerie was a product of her class, which acknowledged the inherent superiority of the wealthy. Her uncharitable and selfish disposition reinforced society’s assessment of her worth, and in her eyes Empress was so beneath her station that she could be dismissed as a serious threat on principle. Since, however, Valerie disliked loose ends and further disliked gossip suggesting Trey was enamored of this lower-class female, a brief confrontation should send this woman on her way.

Empress stood as soon as the children left the room, placing her hands on the table to keep them from trembling. Her worst nightmare had come true; she was face-to-face with Trey’s
wife.
“What,” she said, nervously brusque, “do you want?”

Valerie discourteously stared at Empress. “I simply wanted to meet you, my dear. You needn’t bristle so, it’s not unusual for Trey’s lovers to overlap.” She shrugged, and the sable glistened with the movement. “He’s always been much in demand; ask him to tell you the stories of the comings and goings at his apartment in town.” Her smile was sweetly malevolent. “They’re cozy little stories.” She looks like a child, Valerie thought, in her pink wool dress, her hair tied back with a ribbon. A prick of irritation pierced her complacency at the ingenuous, nubile innocence of the woman, an unattainable posture for her own style of beauty, and when she spoke, pique colored the honeyed mendacity of her words. “We can all be friends,” she said in dulcet tones, like a cat making the first teasing swat at an injured bird.

“I’m not interested in being friends, nor am I concerned with Trey’s past. You’re not welcome here,” Empress said emphatically. “Please leave.” She tried to keep her voice steady against the calm certainty in Valerie’s tone, and her cool poise when speaking of Trey’s attraction to women. She didn’t need to be reminded of his reputation, not by this glamorous woman who had known him years longer than she.

“I’m not welcome in my husband’s home?” Valerie retorted idly, although her rudeness was shiny bright. “You presume too much; I’m his wife.” Her eyes held Empress’s and she added softly, “I carry his child.”

“I don’t care to argue with you,” Empress replied, the assurance in Valerie’s voice disastrous to her peace of mind,
“and Trey won’t be back until dinner. If you’ll excuse me …” She began to move around the table, intending to leave the room, her heart hammering in her chest, Valerie’s smooth, confident words unnerving. Even if she told herself Trey loved
her
, even though she reminded herself of all he’d said about Valerie’s mendacity and coercion, the terrible words—“I’m carrying his child”—were startling in their simplicity. And the allusion to his amorous escapades in town and the casualness with which Valerie aluded to them caused another twinge of anxiety. Could Trey really give up his previous life-style? If she only knew him better … not better, simply longer.

“I don’t think Trey will be back tonight,” Valerie said as though she were delivering an incidental message. “He told
me
to expect him for dinner at eight.” Her bold-faced bluff was designed to stop Empress from walking away.

It was effective.

“You’re wrong,” Empress replied sharply. “He won’t see you.” But the blow was devastating, and though she tried to conceal it, the spasm of pain showed. He couldn’t be seeing her for dinner; why was she saying it? How could she lie, come all the way out here to lie?

“Really, dear, how naïve you are,” Valerie purred, her smile wicked. “Does he tell you that?”

“It’s the truth.” But even as she was uttering the words, a creeping doubt overcame her, and her words were far from firm. Trey was so consummately smooth and practiced in amorous intrigue. Had he simply reverted to form, had all the endearing love words been only … words? Would this woman have such gall and poise otherwise?

Valerie’s glance drifted out the window. “Out here in the country, I can see how easy it would be to deceive you.” Her gleaming eyes swung back, and her expression was mocking. “Trey is a spoiled darling, you must know that; he wants us both, you see.”

Fighting down her jealous qualms, forcing her voice to calmness, she said, “He hasn’t seen you since the wedding.”
These are all lies, you’re a liar, he hasn’t seen you
, she silently cried, but the skepticism and uncertainty grew under the relentless assurance in Valerie’s pronouncements.

“Oh, dear, what a pity, child that just isn’t so.” And she
shook her head slowly in feigned commiseration. “He sees me every day.” At the small gasp from Empress, Valerie went on to twist the knife. “It was really out of curiosity more than anything else that I decided to come and see you this morning.” How easy it is, she thought, with a little farmgirl like this. No doubt she believes in God and eternal love and all the other beatific platitudes. “You know, of course,” she went on in her carefully modulated voice, intent on edifying this incredibly naïve girl, “Trey’s love life has always been scandalously full. Having known him for years, I understood this—ah—realistically, before we married. Men will be men, after all.” She smiled, and the wickedness showed in her eyes for a flashing moment. “I’d suggest you see that he provides for your future now, when his passions are high, my dear. None of Trey’s pets last very long, so you should be scrupulously practical. Although from the age of that young boy of yours, perhaps you know that better than I. I congratulate you on your longevity—a record, I’m sure, with Trey.”

Stop it, Empress wanted to scream, It isn’t true! None of the mocking words from the mocking woman were true. “Trey can’t possibly be seeing you,” Empress disputed, her heart in her eyes. “He’s at the legislature with his parents during the day, and he’s home every night.”

Valerie delivered a pleasant, lilting laugh of disclaimer. “Really, dear, Trey’s parents dote on him, everyone knows that. If he says he’s with his parents, they’ll agree. But instead of working at the legislature, he spends his days with me,” she declared calmly, “and extremely enjoyably, I might add.”

“You’re lying!” Heart-sore and distraught, Empress threw the words at the beautiful, richly dressed woman.

It was gratifying to see the passionate outburst. Putting a studied finger to her chin, Valerie said, “Let’s see, Tray was wearing his blue suit Friday with a gray striped shirt; on Thursday he had on range clothes, and he took a few hours for lunch with Judd Parker.” The enumeration was softly triumphant.

Empress’s heart plummeted. Trey had laughed about his lunch with Judd Parker and their discussion of Judd’s unfortunate predisposition for poker—losing poker. Trey had told Empress with a teasing light in his eyes that he’d offered Judd some tutoring in the finer points of the game. Women weren’t
allowed in the Montana Club, so it couldn’t have been accidental happenstance, her seeing him there.

“Would you like to hear more?” Valerie purred, sensing victory, her words spilling out now in exultant sweetness, the poor girl’s face nearly drained of color. “Some soup stained his shirt Tuesday, or was it Wednesday? I forget,” she went on with dramatic emphasis, the surge of power she always experienced when she dissembled particularly well, her tonalities colored with rich orchestration. “But the maid was properly scolded, you can be sure, for ruining his shirt when she blundered. It’s quite impossible to get decent help anymore,” she added with a mocking frown.