The Marker (34 page)

When she opened her eyes, she knew he had spoken the truth. She had been so blind before, but here was love. She had so desperately wanted him to love her, and she had had it the whole time. This ache, this rush of happiness so intense it bordered on physical pain, was real love. When she looked at his face, she wondered how she could ever have been jealous of the O’Connors when she had that same love—pure, simple, forever—right here. Had it from the moment she and Nicholas first met, but had been too blind to notice.

Yet she could not give in to the urge to surrender. Tears gathered and fell. “I can’t.”

He released her, and his whisper was angry and bitter when he said, “Why not?”

“You know why!”

“No, I don’t. How can I know what you won’t tell me?”

“I can’t!”

“Another lie, Lexie. So many lies. You won’t tell me is more like it! Do you honestly think Buchanan doesn’t know you’re here? Do you think he won’t notice your missing maidenhead on your wedding night? Do you think he doesn’t already suspect we’re lovers and have been for some time? Do you really think you won’t have to pay the price for that?”

“I know I will!”

“You know?” Nicholas demanded. “Really? Have you seen the results of his handiwork, then? Have you seen the women he’s beaten senseless? You can’t think I would allow that to happen to you!”

“Nicholas, I—”

“And what about the child you carry, Lexie?” Nicholas interrupted. “Even if you don’t care what happens to you, you care about the child, don’t you? Do you think he’ll be all right with raising my bastard? What do you think he’ll do to the baby?”

Lexie stopped short, her argument lost. She was shocked to learn he knew about the child. She had said nothing to anyone but Claire, who had guessed.
Of course Claire told him
, she thought bitterly, for in Claire’s world, honor dictated Nicholas had to know, because that would make everything right. Damn her.

“There may not be a baby.”

He laughed, but there was no joy in it. “Another lie, Lexie. I can see the changes in your body, in the roundness of your curves. I know the child you carry is ours. You can’t think I’d let Buchanan have her.” He pulled her into his arms, and his gentleness broke her heart. “You gonna try to tell him the baby’s his? Even if you can convince him, you can’t think I’d allow that bastard to have her!”

Panic set her heart racing. “Nicholas, please—” she began desperately.

His hand dropped to her belly. “This is our baby, yours and mine. You can’t think for even a moment I would let another man take her from me. Buchanan will destroy you both.” He looked at her for a long time, and, under his appraising gaze, Lexie struggled to catch her breath. Her vision began to swim. He let his breath out bitterly. “Maybe I can’t save you from yourself, but I can save her.”

She searched his face, but it was a mask. Shocked and scared, she asked, “You wouldn’t take this baby from me, would you?”

“Not from you, Lexie. From him. I would take the child from him.”

“Nicholas, please. You can’t.”

He frowned, pressing his lips together in a thin, pained line. Dropping his arms and walking away, he said, “You leave me little choice. I want to claim what’s mine and this baby is mine.”

“What if it’s not?”

She expected fury from him. Instead, he laughed. “I know this baby is mine. I would have accused O’Connor—in fact, when Mrs. O’Connor told me, I suggested it—but having seen him with his wife, I realize how absurd such an accusation is. No one who knows them would believe it, and I’m sure O’Connor wouldn’t allow his wife to be shamed in such a way. And, despite everything, you’re too honorable to do such a thing to Mrs. O’Connor, are you not? So tell me there were others, Lexie.”

She nodded at the floor, intending to tell him there were others, but the words that escaped her were, “If there really is a baby, it’s yours. There was no one else.”

The first crack in wall she had erected around herself, this one small concession to the truth. “So why would you take this child—our baby, Lexie—to Buchanan, when we could raise her together?” The pain in his voice was unmistakable.

“Because.” She had no good answer for him, no response real enough to be believed, except the truth, and she couldn’t tell him that.

He balled his hands into fists, the knuckles turning white. “‘Because’ is not an answer!” he exploded. “Give me a goddamn answer! I know you love me Lexie, as surely as I love you! So tell me why!”

She should have been afraid of Nicholas’s rage, but Nicholas wouldn’t hurt her. She knew that as surely as she knew Buchanan
would
. She couldn’t look away, and she couldn’t run. “I told you!”

“No you didn’t! You told me lies! Give me an answer I’ll believe! Tell me why you think it’s better to go to him, why you think it’s better to risk yourself and our baby to go to him, to give up on us, for some stupid promise you made years ago. Why would you do this when you know he’ll destroy both of you?”

“If I don’t, he’ll—” She bit off the words before they escaped her.

“He’ll what? What do you think he’ll do?”

Lexie set her jaw and pursed her lips, intent on not yielding more of the truth to him. Bending, she picked up her petticoat to put it on, but, like a great cat, he stalked up to her and tore the garment from her hands, balling it up and throwing it into the corner of the room. She gasped in fear and surprise.

“Nicholas, don’t!”

“Don’t what?” he demanded. “Don’t be furious with you because you’re the most obstinate woman I’ve ever met? Don’t demand answers from you? I’ve offered you marriage, I’ve offered you money, I’ve offered you my heart. And yet, you’ll still go to him, even though you don’t love him? Maybe I’d understand if he had more money than I do, but he doesn’t. Maybe I’d understand if I thought you didn’t love me, but I do. So, I
don’t
understand. What could he possibly have to offer you that I don’t?”

“Nothing!”

“Goddammit, Lexie, tell me! Tell me. Or I’ll go ask him myself!”

Lexie gasped, tears gathering in her eyes and spilling to the floor. “He’ll know if you do, Nicholas.”

“Good! I want him to! Tell me what it is!”

“I can’t!”

“You won’t! Tell me, or I’m going over there!”

Lexie rushed over to him, pressing her hands into his chest as if that small gesture would stop him. “You can’t!”

Nicholas bent and put on his trousers, and desperation set in.

“Oh, God, please, Nicholas! He’ll kill you!” She stopped short, the color draining from her face, the truth hanging in the air between them. Dear God, what had she done?

She thought she might faint.

“Is that what he told you? That if you didn’t marry him, he’d kill me?”

His voice was calm and quiet, all the rage gone. Miserably, she nodded at the floor, a small sob escaping her lips. Trembling, nauseous, she sat on the edge of the bed and began to cry.

Nicholas’s heart twisted at the sight of her tears. So much pain. How much grief had her father put her through in his never-ending quest for easy money? He came and sat beside her, putting his hand on her knee. Lexie glanced down at his hand, and began to cry harder.

“Shh, love. It’ll be all right,” he said gently, putting his arm around her shoulders. All this time, he thought her marrying Buchanan was something she was doing
to
him, a punishment because he had won her, then for his pursuit of her and eventual seduction. He had thought her marrying Buchanan had been about money and revenge—he understood those motives. He hadn’t thought she would risk herself and her child, give up her entire future, in an effort to save his life. There was greatness in her sacrifice, and so much love his heart ached. This was the Lexie he had fallen in love with, a woman with such a beautiful spirit he didn’t think he was worthy of her. His Lexie: beautiful, brilliant, stubborn, the rescuer of little boys, and keeper of his heart.

And, finally, the mother of his child.

After a time, as her sobs began to quiet, he said, “Tell me, Lexie.”

She turned red-rimmed eyes in his direction. The words, once spoken, hung in the air between them, and there could be no taking them back. Sighing, she began, “A couple of years ago, my father had a mounting pile of debts.” Nicholas bit back a retort. This was no surprise to him. He wanted Lexie to get to the crux of her story, but she had to tell it in her own time, in her own way. Lexie regarded him warily, and said, “I know you have no respect for him, but he’s the only family I have. And I owed him.”

Her words hurt. She had family right in front of her, if only she would open her eyes and realize it. “You don’t owe him your life. He created the mess he’s in, he should be the one to fix it.”

“It’s not quite so simple.”

“So tell me.”

Staring at her hands, she did just that. Told him everything—how she had abandoned her father when he needed her, only to find a broken man when she decided it was time to re-engage with her life. How, by the time she noticed he was broken, she couldn’t fix him. How she had spent years trying to make it up to him.

He reached out and touched her cheek just to feel the satin skin beneath his fingers. No wonder she had understood when he’d told her about his brother. She suffered from a similar guilt. “It’s not your fault. You were just a child at the time. You aren’t responsible for his choices any more than you’re responsible for mine.” He turned the words over in his head and realized just how true they were. He was the only one who controlled his actions. His reaction to his brother’s death, to the loss of Lexie, had been his choice. “Your father is not your responsibility. Not anymore.”

She closed her eyes. “Please,” she said softly. It was unclear if she wanted him to stop or continue. He ached to run his fingers over her soft skin, to taste the sweetness of her mouth. Even as she stiffened, drawing away from him, he sensed the desire in her. She loved him as much as he loved her.

“Tell me the rest, sweetheart.”

“I’m nobody’s sweetheart,” she said bitterly, brushing her hair out of her eye, and his heart ached at her words. She would never understand what she meant to him. “Anyway, I don’t know if my father approached Buchanan or if he approached my father, but Buchanan agreed to pay my father’s debts. He also agreed to pay my father an allowance. All I had to do was marry him.”

“So you agreed.”

Lexie nodded, her delicate features wreathed in regret and shame, and he ached to see such pain mar such a lovely face. “It seemed like the sensible thing to do at the time. My father’s debts would be paid, and I would have a comfortable life as a rich man’s wife. I stipulated I had to be twenty-one before I married, and Buchanan agreed. He seemed nice enough at the time and twenty-one seemed so far away.”

“Now it’s here.”

“Yes.”

“How much do you owe?”

Lexie sighed. “About thirty thousand, now, I’m sure. Twenty thousand to cover the debts, and he’s been giving my father an allowance to live on, because heaven forbid my father actually work when he’s got a good scam going.”

“What if you can pay Buchanan back before the wedding date? What then?”

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. There was no clause allowing me out. He would give me money, and I would marry him. That was the exchange.”

“What if you didn’t need the money? What then?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. The way my father spends money, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t need it. But it’s not just about the money. I thought our arrangement was just a business transaction, but it isn’t.”

He stroked her back gently and she shivered at his touch. He leaned in and kissed her. “Tell me what happened.”

Lexie looked at her hands for a long time, watching as he grasped her small hand in his big one. He squeezed it gently. “First it was my father, right after I came into your household, reminding me of my duty, which I took to mean that he didn’t want anything to happen between us.” Her eyes met his and she gave him a lopsided smile, the first hint of levity he had seen in her. “It’s unfortunate for him I’m promiscuous.”