Ryan's Bride (39 page)

Watching Master Ryan also made her eyes tear up. He hadn’t moved from Miss Angele’s bed since she’d been put there. He had pulled his chair so close his knees were touching the mattress. He hadn’t let go of her hand the whole time, and ever so often he would reach and touch her cheek like he wanted to make sure she was still there.

She thought back to how Miss Angele had said the dumplings made her sick to her stomach. But that hadn’t been the reason after all. Miss Angele had been in the family way.

Just like me.
Selma almost smiled. She was past the being sick part of it and was almost starting to show. But she was keeping it a secret for the time being, and it was just as well, because it wasn’t right for her to be so happy over having a baby when Miss Angele had just lost hers.

Angele’s sudden, soft moan broke the silence.

Ryan and Dr. Pardee sprang from their chairs at the same instant.

They stared at her intensely for a few moments, then sat down.

Ryan slumped against the back of his chair and stared miserably up at the ceiling. “I thought maybe she was waking up. It’s been so damn long…”

“Not considering how much laudanum I gave her,” Dr. Pardee said. “It will make her sleep, and that’s what she needs right now. She lost a lot of blood. She’s weak.”

He began gathering his instruments and putting them in his worn leather bag. “I think I’ll go see about Roussel. I’m concerned over how upset he was when we were bringing her in. I told Willard to get him to bed and try to keep him there till I could take a look at him.”

“Yes, I imagine he’s worried. He’s grown real fond of Angele.”

Dr. Pardee closed his bag. “I’ll be back in a little while, but if you need me, let me know.”

Ryan frowned with the need for reassurance. “And you do think she’ll be all right once she’s had some rest?”

“Yes, and as I’ve already told you—there’s no reason she can’t have another baby. She probably wouldn’t have lost this one if she hadn’t taken that fall. Next time, keep her from riding.”

“And I told you,” Ryan said tightly, “I didn’t let her ride
this
time. I was just as surprised as everybody else when she came galloping across the lawn. Had I known what she was up to, you can bloody well believe I would have stopped her.”

“And you had no idea she was pregnant?”

“She never said a word.”

Dr. Pardee rounded the bed and patted his shoulder.

“Stop worrying. It was just one of those things. Let’s be thankful she wasn’t any farther along than she was.”

“How far do you think she was?”

“I couldn’t tell, and it doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s over. Now why don’t you go downstairs for a little while and have something to eat? You can’t do anything here, and you need to stretch your legs…get some fresh air.”

Selma seized the chance to be useful. “Master Ryan, I can go fetch you some vittles.”

He didn’t turn as he said, “I’m not hungry, but I could use some coffee. And tell Mammy Lou to lace it with scotch, please.”

“Yessir, I’ll go right now.”

She walked down the hall behind Dr. Pardee a little ways, then turned toward the rear and the servants’ stairway.

She hoped she would be allowed to return to Miss Angele’s room instead of helping with the cleaning. She liked her a lot and wished she had been nicer to her that morning when she had come to her cabin.

And she also wished she could have told her that she was right about what she saw that night.

The boy
had
been a runaway slave.

And BelleRose
was
the first stop for runaways on the way north!

Denise and Clarice were sitting on the lawn to catch the evening breeze coming from the river. It was too hot to be inside, and they had wanted to be where they could talk without the servants being able to hear.

“I still can’t believe it.” Denise shook her head in wonder. “Riding a horse, jumping him, when she was in the family way. No woman in her right mind would do such a thing no matter how bad she wanted to show off, which was obviously why she did it.”

Clarice had thought about that very same thing again and again in the hours since it had happened. Angele would never have risked losing her baby, she had sense enough to know giving Ryan a child would bond her to him and all his wealth forevermore. She would also have been afraid that if he blamed her, it could end their marriage.

As for his confiding to Corbett he had fallen in love with her—Clarice wasn’t too concerned about that. Ryan had been drinking. It might have been whiskey talk. And even if he had meant it when he said it, Angele’s stupid action could change his mind—especially if he believed she had known she was pregnant.

Denise cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but if I’m annoying you, I’ll be glad to go pack my things and leave for Richmond tonight and get out of your way.”

Clarice blinked back to the present. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re ignoring me.”

“I’m sorry. And you aren’t leaving tonight or tomorrow. So get that silly notion out of your head.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to stay any longer than I’d planned to after what’s happened. Ryan isn’t going to leave her side for an instant, and it won’t make any difference where I’m concerned if he does. He’s made it quite clear he’s no longer interested in me.”

“Don’t be such a ninny. Sometimes I wonder how on earth we can be kin when you never think like I do. For heaven’s sake, I’d never give up as easily as you seem to be doing.”

Denise flashed with resentment. “It happens to be a matter of pride, my dear cousin. I’ve told you he’s tried to avoid me all weekend. I have literally had to chase him down like a dog after a rabbit. And when I did manage to get him off to myself and let him know in dozens of little ways that I was willing and eager to make love, he pretended not to notice. I even came right out and said if I had the chance to do it over again, I would’ve said yes when he proposed.

“So tell me”—she threw up her hands in defeat—“what more can I do? It’s time to give up and accept the fact that he doesn’t want me.”

“That is hogwash.”

“How can you say that? It’s how it is.”

“That little tart has bewitched him, because he’s never been exposed to someone as carnal as she obviously is. There’s no telling what filthy things she does to him in bed to drive him crazy with lust. Men can be so lewd and disgusting. He probably does fancy himself in love with her, but it’s just raw, animal desire. He’ll get over it. And her losing the baby will make it happen faster—especially when he thinks she knew she was pregnant before she got on that horse.”

Denise stared at her sharply. “How could you ever make him believe that?”

With a sinister smile, Clarice said, “Quite easily. I’ll tell him Angele confided in Selma, who’s her personal maid, and Selma told me.”

Hope faded. Denise thought it was a ridiculous idea and said so, pointing out, “Even if you could get Selma to lie, Angele would deny it.”

“Of course she would. But that’s what Ryan would expect, and that is why he’d believe Selma instead.”

Denise was still not convinced. “Why don’t you just show Roussel the letter Corbett received that proves she’s only half French? Isn’t that enough to break up their marriage? Roussel will be so furious he’ll tell Ryan to either divorce her or forget about inheriting BelleRose.”

“Maybe. But Corbett says we can’t be sure, and he also says we can’t afford to take a chance it won’t matter to Ryan. She might have him under such a spell that he’ll say to hell with BelleRose and take her and leave.

“Stranger things have happened,” she warned, “when lust is stronger than reason in a man. But add lying about her lineage to being responsible for losing his baby, and I think that will be more than he can bear.”

Denise considered it, then gave a firm nod of assent. “It might work at that. But why do you want me to stay on? Won’t that look obvious?”

“No. You are family, and it’s understandable you would want to be around to offer what comfort you can in a time of sorrow. When Ryan needs a sympathetic ear, it’s important that you be close by. And don’t worry. He will turn to you. It’s only natural that he would, because even though he’s smitten by Angele for the moment, he can’t forget how he once felt about you.”

Denise wondered about that. Actually, she had never felt he was deliriously in love with her. They had more or less been drawn together by her kinship to Clarice and her French blood, and everyone in Richmond knew about Roussel Tremayne’s ultimatum to his son.

She also had to admit—if only to herself—that she had never been particularly enamored with Ryan. He was a devastatingly handsome man, but she was also attracted to many others and doubted she could ever lose her heart to only one man. His main attraction had been his fortune, which was why, after quickly thinking it over, she decided to go along with Clarice’s scheme.

“All right. I’ll stay as long as necessary.”

Clarice clapped her hands in delight. “Wonderful. And if Ryan doesn’t take you to his bed, we’ll make it appear that he did.”

“Now you aren’t making any sense at all.”

“You’ll understand when the time is right.” Clarice gave her a hug as she rose from her chair. “Just be ready to do whatever I ask.”

Denise also stood, and, as she did, swept the lush lands around her with covetous eyes. “You can count on me. I’m not going to let all this slip through my fingers again.”

Selma cut a glance into the tea kitchen as she passed, hoping Mammy Lou might be there. Seeing Miss Clarice, she quickened her step, as always, wanting to avoid her at every chance.

But Clarice saw her and called shrilly, “Selma, you get right back here! Where have you been all evening? There’s a lot of work to be done.”

Biting back a groan, Selma turned and went back to explain. “I’ve been upstairs in Miz Angele’s room, waitin’ in case somebody wanted me to do somethin’ and now Master Ryan wants some coffee, and I came to fetch it.”

“Is she awake yet?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Well?” Clarice scowled at her. “Aren’t you going to tell me how she is, you stupid girl?”

Selma bit her lip to keep from crying. It always made Miss Clarice mad when she cried, but it hurt so bad when she called her names. “Ma’am, I don’t know. Miz Angele, she just lays there. Master Ryan thought she was wakin’ up one time, but she didn’t, and Doctor Pardee said she needed to sleep, anyhow, ’cause she’s so weak.”

“She’s a stupid girl, too,” Clarice said crisply as she poured lemonade for herself and Denise. She added a sprig of mint before continuing. “Anyone who would get on a horse in her condition hasn’t got the sense God gave a billy goat. I hope she feels like a fool when she wakes up. She ruined the weekend for everyone.”

Selma swallowed hard and hoped she wasn’t doing the wrong thing by defending Angele. “She didn’t mean to,” she said softly.

“Is that so?”

Selma desperately wanted to be on her way. “Can I go now?” she begged. “I need to get the master’s coffee to him. He’s waitin’.”

“I most certainly do want you for something else. I want you to tell me what you know about all this.”

Selma was dumbfounded. “I don’t understand.” The way Miss Clarice was looking at her was scary. Her eyes were shining like she was all excited about something, and the corners of her mouth twitched like she was trying not to laugh.

“I will help you to understand.” Clarice clamped her hands firmly on Selma’s quaking shoulders and pushed her against the wall and held her there. Leaning so close Selma could feel her harsh breath on her face, Clarice did not mince words. “I want you to tell me if Miss Angele showed any signs of being in the family way, such as being sick to her stomach. Or has she fainted? Think back, Selma. You should know—because you are her personal handmaid.”

Selma bit her lip and tried to look away, but Miss Clarice gave her a vicious shake that banged her head against the wall. But still she did not want to betray Miss Angele by saying the wrong thing. “I don’t know,” she wailed.

Abruptly, Clarice released her. She went to close the door into the hall. Then she returned to Selma and spoke in a low, ominous tone. “How long have you and Toby been married now?”

Selma didn’t know about dates and such, but Toby had said there had been three full moons since they jumped the broom. She hadn’t told him yet that she hadn’t had her monthly time since the second one.

“I don’t rightly know,” she answered finally.

Clarice’s mouth curved in a smile that Selma found terrifying. “Would you like to continue to live here, at BelleRose, and be Toby’s wife?”

Selma’s heart almost stopped beating. “Yes’m, yes’m, I would. You wouldn’t sell me, would you?”

“That depends. We get fine prices for slaves farther south. I heard Mr. Fordham say those two boys he sold while Master Ryan was in France brought a handsome sum. You know the boys I’m talking about, don’t you? The ones Master Ryan thinks drowned?”

Selma knew all right, but she hadn’t dared admit it when Miss Angele asked her about it. Anytime one of the slaves was sold, Master Ryan thought something else had happened to them. But it didn’t happen very often. Selma and Toby had talked about it…about how when a slave got to be lazy, or made Mr. Fordham or Master Corbett mad, they got sold. And they figured the reason they lied about it to Master Ryan was twofold. He wouldn’t allow it, and Mr. Fordham and Master Corbett were keeping the money for themselves.