Midnight Flame Page 24

  “Can we try again?” she heard him ask. “I’m not made for the monk’s life I’ve led the past few weeks. I can’t bear not touching you, kissing you. What I did was unforgivable, but I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again. I want your trust, your love, the little one you carry. Without these things, I’m nothing.”

  He placed a gentle kiss upon her lips. She kissed him back, feeling his arms wrap around her in a protective embrace. She wanted to tell him that, at this moment, she loved him with her whole heart and that she was very close to forgiving him. The pain he had caused her had lessened, and she no longer felt its sting. But there was time for talk later, she decided, when a windstorm of passion swept her away.

  ~

  A warm evening breeze gently stirred the leaves of an oak tree as Simone, on a white gelding, rode toward Seth. With a long leg propped against the tree, Seth smiled at her when she stopped the horse by him and helped her to dismount. But there was no welcoming smile on her lips for him. She eyed him with a hint of contempt in her face.

  “Flossie gave me your message,” she began but refused to sit on the blanket he had placed on the grass for her. “What do you want?” She sounded impatient.

  “I think the time has come to make some sort of a move where Laurel and Tony are concerned. I’ve been at the house for a while now, and I can tell you that my presence has not caused any dissension in their lives. In fact, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Laurel asked me when I’m returning home.”

  Simone considered Seth a moment, then said, “What about telling her that your stepfather has worsened?”

  “I thought of that already,” Seth countered, growing aggravated at Simone’s apparent coldness for him. “She won’t leave now, believe me. Laurel and Tony went into her bedroom this morning and have only come out within the last hour. When I saw her, her face was flushed, and she had eyes for no one but her husband. She won’t leave him now.”

  “Damnit!” Simone paced up and down, hitting at the air with her riding crop. She turned her anger-filled eyes on Seth. “I thought you were going to seduce the witch. Can’t you even accomplish such a simple task?”

  Seth grabbed hold of her shoulders. “Be quiet, you stupid whore. No one talks to me like that. No one, not even you, Simone. I admit your beauty has bewitched me, but compared to such a viper as you, I’ll take Laurel any day.”

  Simone’s mouth trembled, and tears formed in her eyes. “You’re a cad. I’m carrying a child, and all you can do is call me names. Because of your bungling I’m going to lose Tony.”

  “A child? Whose baby is it? Is it mine?” he asked, a part of him hoping the child was his. He had always wanted a living, breathing reminder of himself.

  She shook her head and gave a tiny sniff. “I don’t know whose baby it is. That’s the problem. It could be yours, but what good would that do me? You don’t have any money either. A fine pair we’d make together. The father could be one of three other men, and none of them is wealthy.”

  Seth felt deflated at how cold and calculating she could be where he was concerned. “Could the baby be Tony’s child?”

  “No. Tony hasn’t slept with me since before he met Laurel. He stayed the night at Clermont in my bed when he was very drunk, shortly before he married her, but he was so inebriated he couldn’t make love to me.”

  “Does Tony remember that night?”

  “How could he, Seth? I told you he was drunk and passed out. He hurt me, too, the next morning when he insisted that nothing had happened.”

  A faint glimmer of light began to sparkle in Seth’s brain. Simone’s pregnancy might be the answer to his prayers.

  He looked at Simone and saw not the woman he thought he had loved, but a woman who would grant him the means to an end. “I think I know how to get Laurel to leave for San Antonio with me. Arrive at Petit Coteau tomorrow morning and appear pale and sick.”

  “I won’t have to appear pale and sick. In the mornings, I am quite ill. Seth, what are you planning?” Her eyes began to brighten, somehow surmising Seth’s plan already. It was too bad they were both without money. She and Seth were perfect together. They even thought alike.

  ~

  The next morning, after a rapturous night spent in Tony’s arms, Laurel agreed to accompany Seth on a buggy ride around the plantation. The rosy flush of love still glowed on her face, and she marveled anew at Tony’s prowess and the care he took with her because of her pregnancy. She finally had admitted to herself that she loved him and forgave him for everything. She still had to admit it to him, and she would, just as soon as they returned to the house.

  Seth held the reins in his hands and smiled sadly at her. His voice brought her back to the present and away from the delights that awaited her in the future. “I wanted this time alone with you to tell you that I’m returning to San Antonio next week.”

  “I’ll be sorry to see you go.” Laurel touched his hand. “Please don’t worry about Uncle Arthur. I’m sure he’ll be all right.”

  “I’m not convinced of that,” he spoke somewhat harshly, then tempered his words with, “I had hoped that you’d come to love me as I love you.”

  This was the second time Seth had proclaimed his love. She couldn’t allow him to think there was hope for anything other than friendship. “Thank you for caring, but I love my husband. I’ll always love Tony. No one else.”

  “Yes, Laurel, I’m aware of that, but you can’t blame a fellow for trying.” He fell silent.

  The horse clip-clopped along, and Seth returned them to the house. Simone’s carriage was parked by the front steps as they came up the drive.

  “What does she want?” Laurel asked out loud.

  When they entered the foyer, Laurel could hear loud weeping coming from Tony’s study at the end of the hallway. She made her way to the open door and saw Simone Lancier sitting in a chair, her face in a kerchief, and sobbing piteously. Tony stood above her, watching her with uncertainty and dismay.

  “You’re lying, Simone. I know you are,” Tony spoke to her.

  Simone glanced up, her eyes a washed-out shade of blue, her face pale and pinched. “Why should I lie to you, Tony? I tell you that I’m having your child, and you accuse me of lying. Ask Doctor Fusilier. He’ll confirm my pregnancy and how far along I am.”

  Tony blanched. Could the child be his own? he wondered. That night when he had been so drunk he hadn’t known which end was up, and Simone had insisted they had made love. But how could he have made love to her? All he remembered was blackness until he woke the next morning.

  “What do you expect me to do? Marry you? I already have a wife.”

  “The honorable thing would be to divorce her and to marry me.”

  “You conniving little baggage—” Tony was interrupted by a flash of blue taffeta outside the door. Laurel! He rushed after the retreating figure heading for the stairs. Seth attempted to block his way.

  “I heard what that Lancier woman said to you, and I think you’re a pig!” Seth stated and made a lunge for Tony.

  Tony sidestepped him, causing Seth to lose his balance a bit, and dashed past him. Halfway up, Tony ensnared Laurel with a large sweep of his arm.

  “Let me go! Leave me alone, Tony. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  “You heard what Simone said?”

  “Of course I heard her! Do you think I’m deaf as well as stupid? How could I have allowed you to worm your way back into my bed after all you’ve done to me? I must be crazy!”

  “None of it’s true. I love you.”

  “Is there a chance that Simone could be carrying your child? Answer me.”

  “Yes, there might be, but I was drunk and—”

  “Get your hands off of me! I’m leaving you.”

  Laurel twisted away. She wanted to go to her room, but Tony held her fast.

  “Remember our deal,” he hissed. “You remain at Petit Coteau as my wife. I won’t have my child growing up away from me.”

  “I
wish to God I had never become pregnant. I wish that night in the cabin had never happened. I wish I didn’t have to see you again.”

  Laurel pushed at him with a strength she didn’t know she possessed. Free of him suddenly, she ran up the next step, but the toe of her shoe entangled in the hem of her gown. She tottered, and for a moment she thought she could right herself or that Tony would catch her. But Tony’s gaze had shifted to Seth and Simone at the bottom of the stairs. He didn’t see her falling backward and was too late to catch her.

  Laurel bumped on each step as she fell. The last thing she saw was Seth’s stricken face as she landed by his feet.

  ~

  Seth puffed impatiently on a cheroot and watched Simone as she poured a cup of tea in the parlor of her Clermont home. She shot him a Cheshire cat grin. “Don’t look so down in the mouth,” she scolded. “Laurel isn’t dead yet,”

  He stubbed out the cheroot on a small golden tray and stared accusingly at her. “It’s easy for you to be calm and cool over her accident. You have nothing to lose if she dies or recovers. Either way, you’ll be able to latch onto Tony, the poor sucker.” Simone laughed her delight. “I think I played my part very well. I was quite upset over my pregnancy, but now since Laurel has lost her baby, Tony will turn to me to fill the void. I shall soon be Tony’s wife and quite wealthy, I should add.”

  Simone’s complacency grated on Seth’s nerves. He wondered how he could ever have been taken in by her. She was selfish through and through and a first-class whore to boot. But it wasn’t the fact that she was so pleased with herself that upset him. He worried that he was now back to where he had been when he arrived in Louisiana. Potentially penniless unless Laurel lived and he could convince her to leave with him and then marry him. What blasted luck!

  “I better go back to Petit Coteau. Tony hasn’t left her bedside, hoping she’ll wake up. I’d like to be there if anything happens.”

  Simone lay on the divan and stretched languidly, blowing him a kiss. “I hope all works out for you, Seth, darling. My future is assured no matter what happens to Laurel. If she lives, she won’t stay with Tony now. If she dies, well … What can I say?”

  “Cold-hearted bitch,” Seth muttered and left a giggling Simone for the return trip to Petit Coteau.

  ~

  For the first time in years, Tony prayed. Sitting by her bedside with Gincie in attendance, he knew that if Laurel died, he had no reason to live either. Their child was gone, and though Doctor Fusilier had said Laurel would have other children if she lived, Tony knew she would never want another child of his. Agony was imprinted on his face whenever he looked at her. She lay so still, and her face was ashen beneath the purple bruises from her fall. Her whole body was bruised, and he felt responsible. If only he hadn’t gone to Simone’s house those long weeks ago. He doubted the veracity of the woman’s story, but he couldn’t prove the child Simone carried wasn’t his own. He would most probably never be able to prove that nothing had happened. And what was worse, Laurel would never trust him again.

  Gincie lightly patted Tony on the shoulder. “There’s nothin’ to be done for my baby now, Mr. Tony. You been sittin’ up with her for hours now. You got to get some rest.”

  Tony stroked the stubble on his chin. “I won’t leave her. I’ll wait until she wakes up.”

  “Mr. Tony, she may never wake up.”

  “She will!” Tony insisted. “Laurel will be all right.”

  ~

  That night Laurel still hadn’t wakened. Doctor Fusilier came and checked her and then rested in a bedroom down the hall until there should be some change. But when the next afternoon arrived and Laurel still hadn’t woken up, he reluctantly left. Tony was unaware the doctor had gone as he continued to sit at Laurel’s bedside and ate only light meals in her room. Gincie grew worried over Tony’s bedside vigil and his haggard appearance. The man loved Laurel, that was certain. What would happen to Mr. Tony if Laurel died? Gincie wondered, and she didn’t like to think about that.

  That night Tony was dozing in his chair, attuned to Laurel’s every breath. At midnight he heard a slight movement on the bed and instantly came alert. Laurel’s eyes were open, and she was looking at the candlelight flickering across the ceiling, apparently disoriented.

  “Thank God you’re awake,” Tony breathed and kissed her hand. “I thought I had lost you.”

  Laurel’s gaze drifted to him. Her eyes focused on his face, and she saw tears streaming down his cheeks. She wondered why Tony was crying when she was the one who felt so awful. Then her mind cleared, and she suddenly felt lucid and wide awake. “I had an accident, didn’t I?”

  He nodded. “You’re going to be fine. I knew you’d come back to me.”

  “My head hurts,” she said. “Every inch of me hurts.” She grew silent for a few seconds, feeling the warmth of Tony’s hand in hers. She remembered the fall down the stairs and, more importantly, recalled the scene in Tony’s study. Her hand touched her abdomen. The past few weeks she had noticed a roundness there. Now she felt a hollow emptiness. She had said right before her fall that she wished she had never become pregnant. Now her wish had come true.

  “I lost my baby.”

  A strangled sob rose in Tony’s throat, and all he could do was nod.

  She felt unable to cry, unable to summon the appropriate emotion for the circumstances in which she found herself. “I should have known things were suddenly too perfect not to be destroyed. People I love have died without warning. I’m alone again.”

  “You’re not alone, Laurel. You have me. I love you. Doctor Fusilier insists you can have other children. I’ll take care of you. You belong with me, here at Petit Coteau.”

  Her emerald eyes fastened on him, impaling him. “There’s nothing to keep me here any longer. The baby is gone. When I’m well enough, I’m leaving with Seth for San Antonio. Don’t try and stop me, Tony. This time, I am going.”

  He knew she meant to leave him. He had lost her because of a stupid indiscretion, something he didn’t even remember, something he wasn’t certain had ever happened. Suddenly he was too tired and weary of life to try to convince her to stay. He had gone through a living hell the last few days. Retribution for his revenge against Lavinia Delaney was staring him in the face. His life was over.

  Standing up, he sighed. “Do what you will, Laurel. I won’t prevent you from leaving. Go to San Antonio with Seth, make a new life for yourself. Forget I ever existed.”

  “You’ll take care of all the … arrangements.” She meant a divorce but couldn’t say the word.

  “Whatever you want.”

  He turned his back and didn’t look at her again, as he closed the door behind him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  After a long and arduous trip, the stagecoach pulled alongside the Plaza House in San Antonio to let the passengers disembark. Laurel, with Seth’s supportive arm around her waist, got off before Gincie. Their clothes were covered in dust, and Laurel was glad she had purchased sensible calico gowns in New Orleans all those months ago. Her good dresses would have been ruined. She couldn’t wait to bathe and wash away the weeks of accumulated dirt and grime. The way stations had been few and far between and the facilities had been inadequate. Now she eagerly awaited decent accommodations and the chance to sleep in a comfortable bed. Although she felt suddenly very tired, she glanced with curiosity at the plaza containing the golden-colored limestone facade of the Alamo, now occupied by the United States Army. She also noticed a brewery and the beginnings of an elaborate hotel. On the street, carts and carriages moved at a leisurely gait, and she even saw a herd of cattle being driven through the plaza by vaqueros on horseback.

  “You feelin’ all right?” Gincie asked as she followed Laurel and Seth onto the covered porch of the hotel out of the blistering summer sun.

  “Just weary,” Laurel told her.

  “You shouldn’t have left Petit Coteau until you felt stronger.” The admonishment in Gincie’s tone didn’t go unnot
iced by Laurel, or by Seth, who tightened his grip on Laurel’s waist and shot Gincie a chilling look.

  “Laurel will feel better once she’s rested. Tomorrow we’ll start for the ranch, and she can regain her strength there.”

  Gincie grew quiet and wrinkled her nose in distaste, her dislike for Seth evident on her face.

  Inside the hotel, Laurel welcomed the sudden coolness of the interior, and once in her room, she ordered up a bath. Seth said he would return at six to escort her to supper, and she promised she would be ready by then, but she really didn’t want to go. She wished she could just crawl into bed.

  Though she was appreciative of Seth’s company and his solicitous concern for her health, she sensed he would press his suit of her affections in earnest now that they were in Texas. She didn’t care for him in that way and doubted she ever would. It was Tony she still loved and would love for the rest of her life.

  Damn him! she silently cursed and laid her head against the back of the tub. He had disappeared the day she woke from her accident and she hadn’t laid eyes on him since. Essie had told her he had gone to Vermillionville. Laurel had half-expected him to return for the marriage of Hippolyte and Roselle, followed by their son’s baptism, or at least before she left for San Antonio. However, by the time she was sufficiently recovered to travel, he hadn’t come home.

  Denise had arrived unexpectedly from Vermillionville and told her that she had seen Tony in a lawyer’s office and he looked awful. This had been Laurel’s first indication that Tony was filing for a divorce. Denise had begged her to reconsider, but Laurel had been adamant. There was no hope for a reconciliation. Too much had happened between them. She couldn’t trust him. Their relationship had been doomed from the start. Denise had listened sympathetically, but in her parting words to her she had professed that Laurel was making a mistake in leaving Tony.