Unveiled. Part 21

The silence hung between them like a dead weight. Christopher glanced out the window, then back to the older woman, his face suffused with anger.

"Before you speak, Christopher, please, hear me out. I understand how you must feel. It came as quite a surprise to me to hear about the boy. But can't you find it in your heart to understand and forgive her? The girl was young-she made a mistake."

"I know that." Christopher's voice was tight. "But she hid it from me. I can't forgive that, nor forget it."

"What choice did she have?" Ella leaned forward, her handkerchief knotted between gloved hands. "Christopher, put yourself in her place. This society is very unforgiving of a woman in trouble. G.o.d knows it happens enough and it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's only Mother Nature reminding us that we are human. But other people don't see it that way. Fan has learned to protect herself."

"That's not the point." Christopher glared at the older woman. "Kate, I mean Fan, has had good reason to hide the child, it's true. But she didn't have to hide it from me."

"Didn't she?" Ella smiled wisely. "Christopher, if she had come to you at the outset and told you the truth, would you have married her?"

He turned to the window once more, unable to respond, but his teeth tightened with outrage.

Ella nodded. "You see? Fan had to protect her secret or risk losing you. Don't you understand, you thickheaded man? She loves you-she always has."

Christopher looked at her in astonishment. "You actually expect me to believe that?"

"Why else would she be so frightened to tell you, then?" Ella prodded gently. "If she didn't care for you, she wouldn't have been afraid."

"Fan married me for money," Christopher said wearily. "And, to a lesser extent, for my name." He gave Ella a penetrating look. "If you only knew the deceit she was capable of..."

"I won't hear your accusations." Ella choked, then was seized with a coughing spell. His anger forgotten, Christopher got to his feet and poured her a gla.s.s of water. Holding the vessel beneath her lips, he helped her take a few sips. Slowly the coughing ceased, and Ella looked at him apologetically.

"Thank you. Being old is so inconvenient and undignified." She waited a few minutes to catch her breath, then continued softly: "Then what you're saying is that Fan married you for the same reason you married her. Wealth."

"No, that's not true." Christopher flushed, feeling like a schoolboy whose knuckles have just been slapped. "I always cared for Fan."

"You have an odd way of showing it. An annulment is not a laughing matter, as you know. This is a scandal that neither one of you can easily overcome. Society mistrusts an ill-conceived marriage in a man as much as a woman. And when the talk gets out concerning the details of your arrangement..." Ella fixed him with a steady stare. "Especially this nonsense I hear about a gathering. Do you really think to begin courting other women while you're still married? And you expect my niece to do the same?"

"Ella, with all due respect, this really isn't any of your business at this point. I know you love...Fan, but I have to do what I feel is the right thing. I've talked to her-she's in total agreement that we should look for other prospects. So the next time you lecture me on how much my wife cares, I suggest you remember that."

"Fan...agreed?" Ella asked in disbelief.

Christopher nodded. "She offered no resistance to the idea."

"I see." Ella rose to her feet and clung to the table for support. "Then I suppose I'm wasting my time. If what you say is true, Christopher, then money means more to you both than I thought. To say I'm disappointed doesn't adequately express my feelings. Thank you for the water and your time. I have a cab waiting; please, don't bother."

Ella walked slowly from the room, her head held high. Christopher suddenly felt a strange premonition. He strode to the hall and glanced down the corridor, but Ella had already gone.

"May I bring you another whiskey, sir?"

Christopher glanced up in annoyance at the waiter who was standing solicitously nearby. He wanted to get drunk-not just tipsy, but dead drunk, roaring drunk, the kind of drunk where he could forget everything and everyone.

"Yes. In fact, make it two." Christopher replaced his gla.s.s on the tray, waiting for the cold heat of the liquor to warm him.

He was still smarting from Ella's lecture and he didn't have the faintest idea why. Ella was blinded by her affection for Kate; Christopher was well aware of that. Yet her words kept coming back to him like a chant.

She loves you, Christopher. She always has.

G.o.d, if he could just believe that. Christopher stared at the roaring fire in the elegant library, ignoring the curious glances of the men around him. If he really and truly thought that he meant something to Kate, something other than a safe haven, then he would reconsider. But he had absolutely no reason to think that he did. If anything, her actions indicated the exact opposite.

Unless...Christopher stared thoughtfully into the flames, an idea forming. If Katie really felt something for him, could she actually stand by and watch him court someone else? He remembered the Mitch.e.l.ls' reception, when he'd escorted Margaret Chester. Katie had been livid. Much as she tried to hide it, her jealousy had been transparent and had a.s.sured him that he wasn't mistaken about her feelings.

But could he really live up to his end of the bargain and find someone for her? The very thought of Katie in another man's arms was repulsive. He stood to lose everything by his own d.a.m.ned cleverness. What was it Ella had said? That wisdom was wasted on the old?

"Here you are, sir." The waiter appeared with the drink, then lingered for a moment. "You didn't have any supper tonight. Is everything all right?"

"It's fine." Christopher stirred the drink, then sipped deeply of the whiskey, dismissing the waiter. The liquor burned, but it did make him feel better.

There had to be a solution. Pensively Christopher sipped his drink, staring into the flames. When he felt a familiar tap on his shoulder, he started with annoyance as he recognized the man behind him.

"Theodore." Christopher was forced to acknowledge him.

The older man grinned and pulled up a chair, ready to settle in for a long chat. Inwardly Christopher groaned. The last thing he wanted to do was spend time talking with this perennial bachelor who wouldn't have the slightest idea of what it was like to love a woman. Theodore Worthington recited a long list of his ailments, obviously happy to have an audience.

"You know I still have that trick knee. I can't ride or do much exercise until the swelling goes down. I've been putting ice packs on it. You know, cold for hot and hot for cold. Then there is my gout. d.a.m.nable thing, my boy! They all have their reasons for it, those physicians that charge by the minute, but I swear it's the cooking here. The service is poorer by the day. For what we pay for this club, one would think..."

Christopher closed his eyes while Theodore rambled on. He was tempted to excuse himself, but he felt sorry for the older man. Theodore had lived alone most of his life and was the most particular human being he'd ever met. He was so set in his ways that even the slightest disturbance was enough to set him on edge. He was known as a tightwad, which, in his youth, discouraged most of the women from looking favorably on him. Even if he paid the slightest attention to a woman, which he never did, he was woefully unsuited for marriage, a fact that caused no end of concern to his family.

A terrible idea came to Christopher. No, he couldn't. Instantly dismissing the thought as unkind, he glanced up and saw the man accept another drink, then pat his rotund belly gratefully.

Christopher grinned. All was fair in love and war, and in this case, it was war. Here was one man Katie would be perfectly safe with. He could have his answers, yet at the same time protect his own interest. "You know, Ted, you're right. The food here is terrible. I really think you need to get out more. How would you like to attend a party?"

TWENTY-THREE.

Katie still couldn't believe this was happening. Perched on the window ledge of the great house, she watched as workmen carried in the new furnis.h.i.+ngs, provided by Ella. Moira and Eunice oohed and aahed over the luxurious sofas, the wing chairs, the lovely cherry tables, and the crystal and china. Everything would be perfect for the party, except...

She fought the tears that stung her throat. She had to go through with this; she didn't have any other choice. Still, in the deepest part of her mind, she was hoping that Christopher would come to her and say that he really didn't mean it, it was all some horrible misunderstanding.

"My, Katie! Look how beautiful these pieces are! What a wonderful woman is Mrs. Pemberton!"

Katie forced a smile as Moira exclaimed over a silver bureau. The older woman pulled out the flat drawers, filling them with the serving implements, then reverently replacing them.

Her family didn't know. At least she thought they didn't. Neither she nor Christopher was anxious to publicize the real reason for this party. And Moira was like a little girl, always in a dream world. It was enough for her that she was living in this grand house, filled with pretty things, and that they were giving a real party tomorrow night.

Sean was equally excited and talked of little else. Only Patrick frowned and gave her a questioning stare. It was no secret that she and Christopher had quarreled, and she could read the question in his eyes. Why, then, were they celebrating?

Hugging her knees, she wished she could just do away with the pain. She had somehow to find the strength to get through this night. Maybe she could make Christopher see what he meant to her. If she could only think of a way- "Mrs. Scott?" One of the workmen paused and wiped his face with a cloth. "There's a rough-looking bloke outside asking for you. You want me to tell him to get lost?"

"No, I'll take care of it." Slipping from the seat, Katie brushed the dust from her skirt with a frown. Surely it must be one of the workmen who wanted her, ostensibly to ask a question regarding the placement of the furnis.h.i.+ngs. Yet...

A cold dread filled her heart when she saw him. He was standing across the street, his hands thrust arrogantly into his pockets, but she wouldn't mistake him anywhere. Her breath quickened as she recognized his blond hair, his boyish profile that even from a distance looked charming. Glancing fearfully back at the house, she saw that everyone was inside, the door closed. Crossing the street, she approached him, her legs weak and trembling.

"What do you want?" Katie's voice broke, betraying her fear.

John Sweeney laughed, though his tone held little mirth. "That's a fine greeting after all this time, Katie love." His eyes ran over her appreciatively. "You look good, Kate. But then you always did."

Fear touched her spine like a cold wet hand. She couldn't let him know she was afraid; he would use it, as he used so much against her before. Patrick had insisted that he'd be back. Surely he didn't mean to...Katie couldn't finish the thought. "I'm just surprised to see you," she responded cautiously. "It has been a while."

"Six years." John pulled a rolled cigarette from his pocket and put it between his lips. He looked older, Katie noticed with surprise when he bent down to strike a flint and the light illuminated his face. There were lines that she didn't remember. He smiled, as if reading her mind. "Six long years. They haven't been as good to me as they have been to you."

"No?" Katie smiled bitterly. "You ran out on me after I discovered I was with child. I loved you-you knew that and it didn't matter. It must have been a grand joke to you. Do you have any idea what you've done to my life? What these last years have been like?" Fiercely she wiped at the moisture that sprang to her eyes. "No one would give me a job. No one would befriend me. I was, after all, an unwed mother, a sinner, while you walked away without shame."

"Katie, Katie." John tried to reach for her, but she stepped far away from him. "I'm sorry. I couldn't accept the responsibility of a child. For G.o.d's sake, I could barely take care of myself! Surely you can understand that!"

Katie stared at him and felt a measure of disgust and pity. He left her and his child, and now he wanted forgiveness! If it hadn't been for her family, she would have starved, and Sean along with her. This man, this child, she amended silently, cared for nothing and no one but himself.

"John, I think you should go. If it's my forgiveness you'll be wanting, you have it. But I cannot forget. I've gone on with my life and I suggest you do the same. I have nothing more to say to you."

She started to leave when, to her surprise, he detained her. "Now, la.s.s." There was a subtle threat in his voice and Katie felt the fear once more. "I would think you'd show a little more affection for your son's father. Where is the boy?"

The blood drained from her face, and for a moment Katie thought she would faint. "You have no right to him," she whispered, her nails digging into her palms as her fists knotted. "Stay away from him. And me. There's nothing for you here."

"No?" John Sweeney's smirk disappeared and he leaned closer. "I think there is. He is my son, for all that you'd like to forget that. I don't give a d.a.m.n who you've married or what you're doing with yourself. But that boy is mine and I have rights as his father." His grin reappeared and his voice became like silk. "Or should I discuss all this with Mr. Scott?"

Fury filled her and Katie stared at this man with horror. How could she have ever thought she loved him? A blackguard, a thief, and a liar...it was all written on his charming face. How could she have been so blind?

"You wouldn't...do that," she whispered, her voice filled with fear.

John Sweeney grinned. "Not now, I wouldn't. You see, Katie dear, I think we can come to some agreement. You seem to have done quite well for yourself. Christopher Scott, no less, as a husband. You're living in style in this house...even the gown you have on is worth more than I'm paid in a week. I don't want to disrupt your life. I just want what's coming to me."

"You cad!" Katie stared at him in outrage. "You don't care about your son-you never did! You just think to use this, to blackmail me!"

"That is such an ugly word." John leaned against a tree, obviously not at all concerned by her accusations. "I prefer to think of it as an agreement. I agree to stay away from Sean. You can go on with your life, as the elegant Mrs. Scott. And I get rewarded for my cooperation."

"How could I have ever thought there was good in you...?" Katie stared at him in disbelief. "My G.o.d, I must have been ten times a fool."

"That's enough." John's face reddened and he glared at her. "I don't think it's too much to ask. I'm being deprived of my son. You have so much-a little money here and there won't kill you."

"You are the reason my family was thrown into the street. You bled them dry, and now you think to do the same to me. It won't work, John Sweeney. I'll-"

"You'll what?" John grinned, more confident now. "Tell your husband? Where is the dear boy? I've been watching this house for days. Bring him on out so I can meet him."

Katie felt the walls close in. If John met with Christopher now, it would all be over. There was a limit to anyone's patience, and John Sweeney's presence would push her husband right over the edge. And Sean...tears filled her eyes as she thought of her son, and how hard they'd worked to see him raised right. John Sweeney would have nothing but a corrupting influence on him. At all costs, she would protect him.

"How much?" Katie whispered, pain filling her voice.

John smiled. "Just a few dollars here and there. I think a hundred is a good start."

One hundred dollars. He might as well have said a thousand. Realizing that there was no way she could hide her financial condition, Katie opened her eyes and looked directly at him.

"I don't have it," she said softly. "As you know, Christopher and I aren't...getting along right now. I can't go to him with such a request. He would want to know the reasons, and might even want a divorce."

"I wouldn't expect you to get the money right off," John Sweeney said. "But you're a clever girl-you always have been. I'll settle for a token now to give you time. But then I want my money."

Katie nodded. "Wait here." Returning to the house, she reappeared a few minutes later with a box wrapped up in her hands. "Take this." Tears moistened her eyes as she gave him the box. "It was a gift. Christopher gave it to me."

John Sweeney opened the wrapping and saw the music box inside. "This will do. I can hock it. But I want to see the real cash, love. Figure out a way to get it. Or else."

Katie watched him disappear into the shrubbery. Despair filled her and she clung to the tree to keep from falling.

John Sweeney wouldn't stop with a hundred dollars. Even if she could find the money, he'd be back again. And again.

"Dear G.o.d," she whispered. "Haven't I been punished enough?"

"Katie!" Moira called from the doorway. "Come inside, it's chilly out there. And we need your help with the tables."

Katie nodded, then returned to the house with a heavy heart. Why was it that everything went wrong at the same time? She didn't think she could bear it, especially when she reentered the house and Sean enveloped her in a bear hug. Somehow she had to find the strength.

And an answer.

"...and it was beautiful then. The fields were green, every green the mind could conjure! From the pale sweet lime of the new leaves, to the kelly of the gra.s.ses, to the dark green black of the lakes and bogs. Ah, and the rivers are silver, glistening like veins on the sides of the mountains. And in the morning, when the mist rises, one can see the ghosts of kings and queens, long since buried beneath the sod."

Eunice sat entranced as Paddy talked of Ireland. Katie, who had heard the tales a hundred times, felt a calm rea.s.surance to hear them again for the hundredth and one. Moira scowled from the sofa where she st.i.tched a new lace cloth for the table.

"Bah, you old fool! I remember it not that way. It's an island, and the rains pour down, drowning a soul. There was nothing to eat, no theater...why, it's a d.a.m.ned good thing we came here."

"Is that right, woman?" Paddy rose from the fire and came to stand over her. "Is it contradicting me you are?"

"No, not at all." Moira batted her eyes shamelessly, then turned to Eunice. "I just recall it differently."

Katie laughed, looking up from the sink where she washed the plates and cups, and handed them to Sean to dry. It was just like home. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend she was little again, and the only difference would be that her father would walk through the door about now and put an end to their arguing.

It was almost as if she could forget the past, forget John Sweeney, forget the threat that hung over her head. Dear G.o.d, would it never end? Would there never be a time when she could be at peace?

And now tomorrow was the party. Katie couldn't even picture herself, laughing and entertaining guests, all the while Christopher sought out another woman. She suppressed a smile, thinking of Gertrude and Christopher's reaction when he met her. Somehow she would have to find a way to reach him before it was too late.

"Katie, would you get the door?" Patrick called, reluctant to leave his argument. Drying her hands on her ap.r.o.n, she went to the hall and opened the oak panel, her greeting dying on her lips.

"Christopher?"

"Kate." His eyes held hers for a moment, as if wanting to say something. Instead he glanced awkwardly around her, then indicated the clothes he carried. "Haven't the servants arrived?"

"No, not until tomorrow." He looked so good that she wanted to cry. Could he feel the same way as she? Maybe he, too, had thought about it and wanted to call off the party...Katie wished fervently, but her hopes were dashed with his next words.

"I thought I'd stay tonight to help for the housewarming. Aunt Eunice said most of the people intend to come." His face looked intense and he glanced at her with an odd expression. "By the way, I've invited someone for you to meet."

Her heart dropped into her shoes. Katie stared at him, crushed, aware of what he meant. "That was very kind," she replied, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice.

He nodded. "I always keep my word."