Annie's Song Part 6

James tugged on his ear, then glanced at the floor, the wall, everywhere but at Alex. "Well, you see, it's a little more complicated than that. Some of my guests are from out of town, and I've invited them to sleep over. Annie's room will be occupied." He lifted his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "I thought she'd be staying at your place."

Silence settled over the room, an awful, tense silence broken only by the monotonous ticking of a pendulum clock standing against one wall. When he had first seen James this morning, Alex had thought his attire too casual. Not so. The man was dressed perfectly for the garden party he planned to host.

A garden party that obviously took precedence over his daughter. It seemed that just about everything took precedence over Annie, Alex thought scathingly. Funerals. Garden parties.

Overnight guests. d.a.m.n him. It wasn't that Alex had expected a fancy wedding with all the tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs. The very idea was ludicrous. But it seemed to him there was a principle involved here, one that James Trimble had overlooked. Respect. When it came to his daughter, that seemed a commodity he had in pitifully short supply.

"Let me clarify what you're saying," Alex said softly, "Edie can't accompany Annie to help her get settled in at Montgomery Hall, and it's impossible for me to leave her here?"

James nodded, looking aggrieved. "It's not as if I deliberately arranged things this way, Montgomery. It's just one of those"-he coughed again-"unavoidable wrinkles."

An unavoidable wrinkle. Alex had long since pegged James Trimble as being self-centered and insensitive, but this exceeded even his expectations. He had an unholy urge to grab the pompous little b.a.s.t.a.r.d by his lapels and shake him until his eyes bugged. If it hadn't been for the fact that such behavior on his part would frighten Annie, he might have done just that.

Turning his gaze to Edie, Alex managed to say in a relatively calm voice, "You promised me that you would accompany Annie to Montgomery Hall to help me get her settled in, Mrs. Trimble. Surely you can come, if only for a couple of hours."

Edie glanced guiltily at Annie, then at her husband, and began wringing her hands. "I know I promised, Mr.

Montgomery, but that was before I learned of the garden party.

James needs me here to be his hostess. This luncheon is so very important. To his political career, you understand. I simply-" She broke off and swallowed. "Well, with an entire houseful of company coming, I can't possibly be gone for two hours."

"What do you expect me to do, madam? Grab your daughter by the hair and drag her out of here?"

James settled a thoughtful gaze on Annie's bent head. "I have it. Edie, run along upstairs and fetch the laudanum."

"Laudanum?" Alex bit down hard on his back teeth. After a stinging silence, he finally said, "I won't have the girl drugged.

She's pregnant, for Christ's sake. It might be harmful to the infant."

"Nonsense! Make her groggy, nothing more."

Evidently uncomfortable with the building tension, the minister chose that moment to thrust out a hand to James. "I do have to be going, Trimble. The funeral, you know." Turning toward Alex, he added, "It's been my pleasure, Mr.

Montgomery. I wish you and your bride every happiness."

Alex was too outraged to reply. Ever conscious of appearances, James hastily excused himself to see the minister out to the foyer. As the two men departed, Alex waited for Edie Trimble to answer his question. "Well?" he finally prodded. "Is that your plan, Mrs. Trimble? That we dope the girl with laudanum? Or that I simply drag her out?"

"It won't be necessary for you to drag her anywhere. Nor must we resort to laudanum. I will see her comfortably settled inside the carriage myself. After that, it's only a short drive to your place. When you arrive, you can turn her over to the nurse's care. I'll be there tomorrow afternoon, just as we originally planned. You're behaving as though this is a great inconvenience to you."

Alex could see that trying to reason with these people was useless. "Tussling with a hysterical girl won't prove to be any great inconvenience for me. I'm more than capable of handling her. My only concern is how she may feel about it."

She dug her teeth into her lower lip, looking miserable.

"James is very ... exacting," she said in a whisper, clearly afraid her husband might overhear. "He insists I be here for this gathering, and I can't go against his wishes. If I did-well, he'd be dreadfully angry!"

And that would be catastrophic? It would have done Alex's heart good to see Trimble get so mad he ruptured a vessel. His patience gone, he gestured toward the doorway. "My driver is waiting. If you can help me get your daughter into my carriage, I'd greatly appreciate your doing so. She looks tired, and I'd like to get her home so she can rest."

"Certainly."

With that, Edie curled an arm around Annie's shoulders and guided her from the room. Alex followed, wondering with every step how the woman planned to get the girl into his vehicle without a tussle.

James, who had just bidden the minister goodbye, was still in the foyer when they emerged from the parlor. Muttering under his breath, he dashed into his study to get something before joining Alex and the women on the porch. "I do hope you understand about the sleeping arrangements for tonight,"

he said to Alex. "It wasn't intentional, I a.s.sure you. When I scheduled the wedding for this morning, I totally forgot the luncheon."

Alex might have believed the judge had made an honest mistake if it hadn't been for the fact that he'd promised Annie's room to one of his guests. If not for the wedding, his daughter would have been occupying the bedchamber. Alex understood, all right. Perhaps a little too well. And since it made him so blisteringly angry, he preferred not to discuss it with the b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Descending the steps, he opened the carriage door and then stood aside. To his surprise, Mrs. Trimble led Annie down the steps and to the vehicle without incident. Glancing at the girl, who was eyeing the strange carriage with wide-eyed curiosity, Alex decided she was probably too dimwitted to comprehend what was about to happen.

Gathering up her skirt, Edie Trimble made as if to enter the carriage. Caught off-guard, Alex hurried forward to lend her a.s.sistance. At his sudden movement, Annie lurched backward and nearly tripped on the step behind her. Only his quick reflexes saved her from a nasty tumble. Grabbing her arm, he steadied her until she caught her balance. The instant she had done so, she shrank away from him. Mindful of her fear and the reasons for it, Alex released her.

Turning back to a.s.sist Mrs. Trimble, he said, "You've decided to come, after all?''

"Good heavens, no." Edie sank onto the front carriage seat, then leaned forward to see around Alex's shoulder. Patting the spot beside her, she said, "Come along, Annie. We're going for a little jaunt. Won't that be fun?"

A tight sensation closed around Alex's throat. Edie Trimble couldn't possibly be planning to trick the girl. To do such a thing would be indescribably cruel. Yet, as Alex stood there and watched, that was exactly what Edie did. Pretending she meant to accompany them on a ride, she lured Annie into the vehicle, waited for Alex to enter and take his seat, and then exited the carriage by the opposite door.

For all her dimwittedness, Annie seemed to realize her predicament quickly enough. She took one look at Alex and then tried to bolt after her mother. Left with no alternative, at least none that came immediately to mind, Alex forestalled her by blocking her way with his arm and jerking the door closed.

As he hastily fastened the latch, James Trimble closed and locked the other door behind them. Like a lamb herded into a chute, Annie had been trapped, neatly and with a minimum of fuss, just as her mother promised.

Trimble rested a folded arm on the edge of the open carriage window, his face creased in a smile. "You see, Alex? Nothing to it."

Glancing at Annie, who was frantically rattling the door handle, Alex was sorely tempted to plant a fist in her father's mouth. He might have done just that if he hadn't heard the door latch click. Reaching past Annie, he re-locked the mechanism to keep her from making good an escape.

As Alex sat back in his seat, James added, "And if all else fails, there's always this." He thrust a thrice-folded length of leather through the window and into Alex's hand. "Just the sight of it is usually enough to keep her in line. On the rare occasion that she gets stubborn, don't hesitate to use it."

Dumbfounded, Alex had already closed his hand around the leather before he realized what it was. A razor strop. Annie recognized what he held at almost the same moment he did.

She ceased her attempts to unlock the door and shrank back against the seat. The look on her face was one that he doubted he would ever forget. Not just fear. As unpleasant as that was, he expected it. No, what broke his heart was the shattered trust he saw reflected in her eyes. Like any child, she'd believed in her parents, and they'd both just betrayed her.

Suddenly the carriage lurched. The motion was all it took to send Annie into a full-blown panic. She dived for the door again, her slender fingers clawing frantically at the lock.

Before she could get a good grasp on the latch, Alex was upon her.

As he closed his arms around her body, it struck Alex just how slightly built she actually was. In the everyday course of his work, he frequently grappled with stubborn horses six times his weight, and it took all his strength to control them.

With this girl, he had to make a conscious effort to hold back.

Afraid of hurting her, he didn't want to exert undue pressure with his grip or embrace her too forcefully.

Annie had no such compunction. With the flexibility of a contortionist, she somehow managed to slip from his hold, not once but repeatedly, twisting and bending her body in places that Alex had heretofore believed to be humanly impossible.

As a boy, he'd once tried to catch a greased pig at the county fair. Trying to hold on to this girl was every bit as frustrating.

Not to mention humiliating. She was half his size, for Christ's sake.

In the end, Alex realized he had no choice but to play catch-as-catch-can, taking advantage of any opportunity that presented itself. The carriage was moving at too fast a clip to take any chances. If she managed to get a door open and tried to jump, she could do herself a serious injury.

Barely saving his face from being lacerated by her fingernails, Alex caught both her wrists in the grip of one hand, wrapped an arm around her midriff, and, with no slight difficulty, turned her so that she sat between his spread thighs with her back, pressed to his chest. By angling one leg across both of hers, he brought a quick halt to her digging the heels of her shoes into his s.h.i.+ns. Not in time to entirely save his s.h.i.+nbones, but at this point, he was thankful for small blessings. The girl had at least twelve elbows, he felt sure, and half again as many knees.

During the struggle, the only sound Annie had made was a shallow panting. Alex scarcely noticed her silence until after he had subdued her, and even then he didn't ponder on it overmuch. He was too busy slumping in the seat and striving to catch his breath.

Kerwhack! The sound splintered inside his brain. Pain, its center point the cleft of his chin, radiated along his jaws and exploded in his temples. Spots danced before his eyes.

Momentarily stunned by the blow, he blinked, trying desperately to clear his vision.

"What the-"

In a blur, he saw Annie tuck in her chin and hunch her shoulders. In barely the nick of time, he s.h.i.+fted sideways so that when she reared back again, her head connected harmlessly with his shoulder.

The little minx! He'd taken blows from the fists of stout men and felt less dazed. Hovering somewhere between outrage and amazement, Alex gaped at her, not quite able to credit her daring. Poleaxed! And by a slip of a girl. Jesus. He could easily break her neck with one well-placed blow. Didn't she comprehend that?

Evidently not. Realizing her target had moved, she flung her head sideways, nailing him on the ear.

"Ouch! You little-"

Whoever said the earlobe had no feeling?

"Annie, don't-"

Kerwhack! Agony lanced along his cheek. He hooked his chin over her shoulder to minimize her swing. Her temple promptly connected with the side of his skull, causing her more discomfort than it did him, he felt sure.

"Annie... Whoa, there, love. I'm not going to hurt you. Stop it, now."

Kerthunk- kerthunk- kerwhack! Alex clenched his teeth, beginning to feel as if his brains were marbles in a bag and someone was giving them a shake. He bit down hard to stifle a curse. Whether she understood him or not, it went against his grain to use bad language in front of a female.

As if she realized the futility of trying to bludgeon him with her head, she tensed her body in one last, valiant effort to break free of his hold. Then she shuddered, the force of it vibrating through him and conveying her terror more eloquently than words.

Alex closed his eyes, swamped with equal measures of guilt and regret. After what Douglas had done to her, it was criminal for her to be put through this. Her parents should be shot, and he along with them.

"I won't hurt you, sweet. Just calm down."

She shuddered again. Then she went limp. He wished he knew of some way to ease her fears. But there was nothing he could think of to say or do. Nothing.

After a few minutes, the rhythmic sway of the carriage seemed to lull her. Judging it to be safe, Alex dared to straighten. He half expected her to lambaste him with her head again, but nothing happened. Eyeing the dejected slump of her thin shoulders, he decided that sheer exhaustion had claimed its victory.

Studying the back of her bent head, he couldn't fail to notice the sweet curve of her neck where her sable hair had parted.

The skin there looked as soft as silk. Remembering her sitting on the landing earlier, he smiled slightly. Despite the vague, confused expression in her large blue eyes, she had a lovely little face.

A beautiful sh.e.l.l, that was Annie. There was no way he could accurately determine what degree of intelligence she might possess, but he guessed she had the mind of about a six-year-old, and not a very smart six-year-old, at that. It seemed such a waste. Such a terrible waste.

Lulled by her stillness and preoccupied with his thoughts, he relaxed his hold on her slightly. Sensing a chance for escape, she gave a sudden jerk and twisted violently in his arms. He grappled to reestablish dominance. In doing so, he s.h.i.+fted his grip on her ribs and encountered a breast. Long after he moved his hand, the fleeting impression of feminine softness seared his palm.

Right as rain from the neck down, Douglas had once said of her, and now that he'd had his hands all over her, Alex was in complete, though reluctant, agreement. Annie Trimble might be sorely lacking between the ears, but nature had generously compensated for the deficiency. Hidden under the shapeless frocks she wore, the tempting curves of her body weren't apparent to the eye. They were, however, very apparent to the touch.

In proportion to her size, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s weren't as small as he had originally thought, and despite her pregnancy, she still had a slender waist, accentuated by gently rounded hips. Judging by what he'd seen in the foyer, a chemise and bloomers were the only underthings she wore. Except, of course, for stockings. During their tussle, he'd felt a garter encircling one of her thighs. A very soft, warm thigh.

His throat tightened, and a sheen of perspiration broke out on his brow. Jesus Christ. Only a lowdown blackguard would get notions about a girl like Annie. Thoroughly disgusted with himself, Alex tried to recall the last time he had spent an evening in town with a sporting woman. From spring until fall, he didn't have much time for that sort of thing. Usually, he didn't notice the lack. Not so with this girl stuck to him like a label to a bottle.

Evidently still hoping she might escape, Annie squirmed again. Alex nearly groaned. There wasn't enough room between them for a flea to wiggle.

The thing to do, he told himself, was look out the window, enjoy the pa.s.sing scenery, and concentrate on something else.

Trees. Mountains. Anything. It was a simple case of mind over body. The instant he got the girl to Montgomery Hall, he would turn her over to Mistress Perkins, the nurse he had hired.

And from that moment on, he would endeavor to see as little as possible of her.

Out of sight, out of mind, as the old saying went.

Six.

Annie had seen the slate-roofed, stone house from a distance, but, intimidated by its size, she had never ventured too close.

Outlined against a backdrop of forest green, it stood four stories high, including its attic floor, atop a gra.s.sy knoll crisscrossed with white fences. Its exterior was saved from severity by generous touches of white trim: a columned porch with an overhanging balcony, shutters at all the windows, and curlicue woodwork, the likes of which Annie had never seen, along the eaves.

Stone walls with white coping bordered the front lawn, the driveway entrance marked by white-topped gate pillars that had lanterns sticking up out of them. Lanterns, of all things. To Annie, that seemed completely crazy. Lights outside? When her papa had to go outdoors after dark, he just carried a lamp.

As the carriage shook and jiggled its way along the drive, she gazed at the house through a blur of tears, her panic mounting. Her mama and papa had given her away ... As relentlessly as a knife, the thought kept slicing through her brain. They must not love her anymore. Because she was growing fat, she guessed. So they had given her away. And to this man, of all people.

Oh, G.o.d ... Annie gulped and held her breath, terrified she might accidentally make a noise. The stranger had Papa's strop. It was lying there, within easy reach, on the seat beside him. One wrong move, and she would get it for sure.

She knew this wasn't the same man who had hurt her up at the falls. When he stood below her in the foyer, she'd gotten a good look at his face. Tiny lines fanned out from the corners of his thickly lashed, toffee-colored eyes, an indication he was older than the other fellow by several years. And she thought his sun-burnished features were a little sharper as well. But, otherwise, the differences were so slight they were scarcely noticeable. The same whiskey-colored hair, shot through with streaks of gold. The same straight nose, jutting from between tawny brows, a perfect offset for his high cheekbones and squared jaw.

The resemblance was too marked to be a coincidence, that was for sure. Except for the difference in ages, he looked enough like the other man to be his twin. That had to mean the two were close relatives, maybe even brothers. Just the thought made her stomach turn.

Brothers .. . Annie figured that brothers were probably a lot like sisters, living in the same house and bearing a lot of similarities to one another, not just in looks, but in other ways.

If one brother was nice, the other probably was. If one brother was mean, the other might be as well.

Annie knew for a fact that this man had a close relative, possibly a brother, who was very, very mean. That scared the stuffing out of her. To make herself feel better, she kept reminding herself that he could have hurt her already if he wanted. And so far, he hadn't. But that didn't mean he wouldn't if the mood struck.

The carriage rocked to a stop. Filled with dread, she stared at the house, stricken by yet another thought. The other man, the one from up at the falls, might be in there. Waiting for her, maybe.

Her heart gave a sickening lurch, and she glanced around, searching for any way she might escape. No matter what, she couldn't go inside that house.

As if he sensed what she was thinking, the stranger tightened his arm around her. It was all Annie could do not to scream, and she began to tremble so that her teeth started to clack. She couldn't hear the sound. But she guessed that he probably did. If so, he would know how afraid of him she was.

Bullies were always meaner when they thought she was afraid.

Keeping a firm grip on her wrists, the man released her with his other arm to grab the razor strop and open the carriage door.