White Lace and Promises (24 page)

Against her will, her face crinkled up and the burning in her throat increased. She swallowed back a sob. The sound echoed like a choked gasp in the space between them.

“Now, Beth, don’t take on like this.” He reached for her again.

She uncrossed her arms and pushed him back. “Don’t—just don’t.”

“Now, my darling, just try to understand. Just let me—”

Tears blurred her vision—she couldn’t hold them back. Horrified at her own weakness, she turned and fled his study and ran down the hall.

“Damn it, Beth!” His voice sounded loudly behind her. “You won’t even
try
to understand!”

She ran down the hall, blinded by the tears that flowed freely now. She gratefully entered the privacy of her chamber. Miss Fairchild looked up from brushing the velvet nap of the gown she was preparing for Beth’s outing, her eyes as wide as the moon. And no wonder. Grey never raised his voice in this house. He maintained a polite distance at all times with his staff.

The slam of Grey’s study door resounded through the whole floor. Miss Fairchild hastily dropped her eyes and resumed brushing the gown, more furiously this time. Beth placed her hand over her pounding heart and leaned against her closed door. Well, at least she could still inspire emotion in the man.

She wiped at her wet face with her hand. God, she’d cried in front of him like a weakling.

Oh, bugger. Oh, bollocks!

What a disaster she’d made of things. In three and a half short months.

Chapter Thirteen

In Mrs Nellie Clark’s lavish parlour, under that woman’s sharp gaze, Beth felt ill at ease. She looked so much like her sister, Mrs Hazelwood, it gave Beth chills.

“You look pale, dear.”

“I am somewhat tired lately,” Beth admitted.

Nellie nodded and sipped her tea. Then she laid her cup down. “Mr Sexton never comes here with you.”

“He is frequently busy.”

“Well, of course, gentlemen are always busy, but you must persuade him to spend some time with you. Newlyweds should spend time together.”

“I have no influence with him.”

Nellie nodded. “I know, dear—when I was a new bride I was confused, too. But every woman must learn to handle her husband and to be agreeable to his tastes.” She pursed her lips. “You stopped the teaching?”

Her stomach coiled so tight she feared she might be ill. But she knew society’s grudging acceptance of her into its midst was almost certainly owing to Nellie’s support and open patronage. And if she wanted to be the kind of wife Grey needed, then she must continue to listen to Nellie’s kindly counsel.

Beth folded her gloved hands and nodded. “Yes, I did. I turned the work over to Mrs Van Dyke.”

Nellie sipped at her tea, then lowered the cup and nodded. “And you let the servants look after the house and you are properly demure?”

Yes, she’d been a model of demureness—unless one counted tossing Grey’s expensive gifts back in his face. Beth laughed softly. “I try to be.”

“Well, try
harder
, my dear,” Nellie said with a smile that was a replica of Mrs Hazelwood’s pleasant tolerance.

Would Beth ever learn to face this new, proper life with such calm composure? Would she find contentment?

It didn’t seem possible.

The ever-present little lump of misery in her throat seemed to swell, threatening to gag her. She swallowed several times, trying to dislodge it. Then, on an inward sigh, she picked up her teacup and took a deep drink. Maybe that was why ladies favoured tea so much.

* * * *

That evening, from the top of the stairs, Beth watched Grey below in the vestibule as he gathered his top hat and gloves, his tall body moving rather stiffly. Did that mean he was still feeling hurt over their quarrel?

He glanced up, meeting her eyes. An urge to call out to him, to beg him to stay home this evening, rose to her throat—an urge so strong it burnt. She held it back. What good would it do? He would only present her with a stream of excuses and rationalisations.

The old Beth might have run down the stairs, flung herself at him and seduced him. The new Beth—the lady—silently watched while he looked away, then walked to the door and exited.

Jan had been waiting at the foot of the stairs to speak with Grey. Now he climbed the stairs two at a time, his eyes fixed on her as he approached. She took a deep breath and forced a small smile. “Did you get your money?”

He shook his head. “No, he’s forcing some austerity measures upon me. I think he’s actually quite overset about my getting expelled.”

“Can you blame him?”

“No, but I didn’t think he’d take too much notice of it.”

“You are his only son; of course he cares.”

A surprisingly sympathetic glint warmed his ice-grey eyes. “You are very different than I expected,” he said with his usual bluntness. “I thought you’d be like those other pieces of fluff Father kept.”

Her mouth dropped open slightly. “How do you know about that?”

He grinned, a resemblance to Grey showing despite the difference in their facial features. “Will likes to drink port in his chamber on Sunday afternoons. He can be very loose-lipped when he’s drunk. Dear God, but he hated those vain, greedy cats who cared only that Father paid their bills and kept them in style.” His grin turned into a scowl. “The one here in town—Kate—she was the worst. Always looking down her nose at Will and everyone else, as if she was some exalted being because a gentleman as wealthy and powerful as Father deigned to keep her. But she was just a common whore he’d picked up from the green rooms of London.”

She returned his gaze steadily. If he preferred bluntness, she’d give the same in return. “I was never your father’s whore.”

“Ah, you must accept my abject apologies. I wasn’t aware he favoured any other kind of woman. Father prefers to control those around him through the purse strings. He has no use for anyone not bound to him through monetary need.”

“If you resent his money, why then do you squander so much of it?”

“Boredom. I am the most useless person alive and my life is one long, tedious ordeal. Why else would I bother getting myself expelled? I thought this time he’d have to take notice of me. He would have to make a place for me, in that real world where he goes every day—but he didn’t. He opened his purse and indicated that I should return to my play.”

“You are only seventeen. You should be in school.”

“I couldn’t stomach another day at Harvard. Sitting there hour upon hour, learning useless nonsense like ancient languages and perverse stories of gods who never existed. I want to do something real, to enter the business world—the world I’ll have to occupy some day.”

“Why haven’t you told Grey these things?”

“He doesn’t listen to me.”

“Why are you so certain?”

He laughed, low and cynical. “Because I have tested him. I make up fantastical ideas for his business. He listens and smiles tolerantly and thanks me. Thanks me, instead of tearing those insane ideas apart and telling me why they won’t work. And so I know not to waste my time sharing my best ideas. He will not listen, he doesn’t care if I am a fool, and he won’t waste his precious time teaching me anything.”

“Why would you decide to fool him in such a way?”

“I told you, I was testing him. Do you know that I didn’t always live with him? He was a stranger whom my mother allowed to visit me occasionally. A quiet, terse stranger who asked me about my studies and pretended to listen. When my grandfather died, my mother soon followed. She loved Grandfather too much to live without him. I was young—eleven years old. I had no choice but to come and make my home with Father.”

Her heart ached for him. He was just a lonely boy who needed someone to understand him. “You’re using an eleven-year-old boy’s logic on this situation.”

He arched a dark brow. “I don’t see a twenty-three-year-old woman’s logic doing any better with him.”

“We have some wrinkles to iron out.” She shrugged lightly. “Every married couple does. I am sure it will all smooth out here very soon.”

“And I am sure he is trying to convert you into a creature like those cats he kept. An unfeeling doll. I hope he doesn’t succeed. How I resented them. At least they could offer him something, unlike myself. I shall only be useful to him once he is dead.” He stared down as he drummed his fingers on the stair rail. Then he looked up, his sharp silver gaze so like Grey’s.

“My grandfather de Lange left me a house on the Hudson, in the country, up north from Terry Town a ways. It’s an estate, really. We call it Red Oaks. Why don’t you come there for a week or two? You can forget about all of this unpleasantness with Father.”

Yes, that was exactly what she needed to do. She needed to absent herself—then Grey would miss her. He would realise how much they needed each other, even in the worst of times.

A soft, masculine chuckle cut into her thoughts. She looked at Jan. “What?”

He shook his head. “No, no, no.”

“No what?”

“No, don’t go thinking Father will suddenly come to his senses and go chasing up there after you. That’s not how it works for him.”

Beth tilted her head. “And how does it work?”

“He keeps us. His son, his mistresses…and now his wife. We wait on his pleasures and wants. When he needs admiration and assurance that you’re desperately dependent on him for your life of luxury and adequately grateful, he will come and fetch you back. But it shall likely be a long time coming.”

“My goodness, that’s a dreadfully cynical view you hold of your father.”

Jan chuckled softly again. “Did you fool yourself that it was otherwise? Well, do yourself a favour and disabuse yourself of such illusions now. He’ll come around only on his own terms and no sooner.” He smiled. “But no matter. We shall take his yacht and do things up right. Beefsteak and pineapple ice cream and whatever else you fancy.”

She opened her mouth to protest but he spoke sooner. “You are afraid to spend his money, aren’t you?” His silver eyes narrowed for a moment as he studied her and he slapped the stair rail and grinned. “By God, I do believe you are. Well, we need to fix that. Honestly, you had better learn to take solace in the pleasures his money can provide or else your life will be one long misery.”

“Wouldn’t that make me just like your father’s fancy women?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to become unfeeling and cold. Love him a little. But only a little. Believe me, that’s all he wants from any of us.”

Beth crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. What could a boy possibly understand about a man and a woman?

What could it hurt to hope that Grey would miss her if she left? It might actually work.

* * * *

The crunch of leaves caught Beth’s attention. The sound was moving closer. She’d spent this afternoon, as she spent most afternoons here at Red Oaks along the banks of the Hudson, riding her horse like a fury. Today, she’d grown fatigued—well, not just mere fatigue but bone weariness that forced her to stop and rest against the trunk of a huge oak.

This had happened several days this week. It was the short days. They were making her tired. But she’d have to shake herself out of this malaise. She had many things to see to in New York. She and Grey had planned a ball to celebrate Jan’s eighteenth birthday. It would be Jan’s first time attending a ball and it had to be perfect.

The sound of leaves rustling on the wind caught her attention. No—it was more regular than wind blowing leaves about.

It was footfalls.

Her eyes snapped open and she looked up into Thomas Watson’s whisky-coloured eyes as he approached. Pulses pounding, she startled completely awake and scrambled to her feet.

“Well, well, Mrs Sexton.” His voice was filled with snide humour.

“Good afternoon, Mr Watson.”

“Mr Watson?” He laughed curtly. “Isn’t that terribly formal after what we have been to each other?”

She drew herself straight. If she was a former harlot, she could be a proud former harlot. “We were nothing to each other and you know that.”

His eyes narrowed. “I hear you are staying here with Jan. Alone.”

He put the most indecent inflection on the last word.

They had been here at Jan’s house for almost two weeks now, and yet still no word when Grey might join them.

“Grey is due to come any day now.” The lie came off smoothly enough. At least so she hoped.

He smirked. “Much to your inconvenience, I am certain.”

“What’s your business being here? Are you looking for Jan?”

“No. I have come to check up on how you’re treating my oldest and closest friend.”

She stiffened her spine. “Why must you harass me like this? I’ve done you no true wrong.”

A muscle jumped in his cheek and his jaw hardened. Coldness radiated off him, chilling her to the bone. “He meant to marry my eldest daughter. Did you know that?”

She took a deep breath and held her expression still to conceal her surprise. Why had Grey not told her? Warned her? “He never even mentioned such a thing to me.”