Evening Star Page 29
Jennifer gasped.
“In May,” Giana added, still holding Alex’s gaze. He was smiling at her now.
“And I will have a new brother or sister,” Leah said happily. “Isn’t it marvelous?”
“May,” Jennifer repeated, her eyes narrowing.
“Yes, Jennifer,” Giana said.
“Congratulations, Saxton,” Charles Lattimer said.
“But that means that you and Alex—”
“No matter,” Derry said, frowning heavily toward her stepdaughter.
“It does matter,” Jennifer said, thwacking her wineglass to the table. “It means—”
“Jennifer,” Alex said, with just a hint of menace, “all it means is that Giana and I found that we cared for each other very quickly. It just took me a while to persuade her to marry me.”
“As persuasive the second time as the first,” Charles Lattimer said into his wineglass, and Alex stiffened.
Derry’s eyes flew to Giana, but Giana’s smile did not falter. “What a lovely dinner. The baby doesn’t at all approve of my tight waistband. Anna, we will excuse you now if you would like to take Leah upstairs. Gentlemen, shall we have coffee in the drawing room?”
There was a moment of stiff silence when Giana rose from the table, like a general, Alex thought.
Giana was the picture of serenity as she distributed cups of coffee. “Sugar, Charles?”
He nodded.
“Do you now own Van Cleve, Alex?” Jennifer asked.
“I fear not,” Giana said quickly, seeing Alex’s eyes narrow. “Indeed, Alex refused my dowry. I fear, Jennifer, that I must earn my keep.”
“A leopard changing his spots?” Charles Lattimer asked.
“You find me unattractive, Charles?” Giana said sweetly.
“No, but neither should you be naive.”
“Ah,” Giana said without pause, “you believe that Alex married me for my money?”
Charles Lattimer started at her bald question.
“You are very rich,” Jennifer said, answering for him.
“She won’t be if she continues borrowing money from bankers who demand extortionate collateral,” Alex said.
“I am a businessman, sir.”
“True,” Giana said. “And with the interest you’re charging me, Charles, you will be a richer businessman very soon.”
“But that isn’t the point,” Derry said, her eyes on her husband’s face, “is it, Charles?”
Charles Lattimer stared at his young wife. “You forget yourself, Derry. I will thank you not to speak of things you don’t understand.”
“No, Charles,” she said gently, “it is time that the past is spoken of. Ten years of blind dislike is enough for anyone.”
Alex rose abruptly and strode to the fireplace, his eyes on Giana’s face. “How stupid of me not to have realized that you planned this, my dear.”
“Derry, Jennifer, we are leaving.”
“Oh no, Charles,” Derry said. “How odd, Giana, I always thought that women carried grudges to absurd lengths. Men, I was given to understand, exercise more logic, more reason.”
“I don’t understand,” Jennifer said, but she was answered only by a blighting stare from her father.
“Ten years is a dreadfully long time,” Giana said quietly. “Charles, Alex wouldn’t have married Laura had she been a pauper, any more than you would have. Is it not true that Derry brought you an impressive dowry?”
“That has nothing to do with anything,” Charles snapped. “Derry knows I love her.”
“Do I, Charles? If you so firmly believe that Alex married Laura, the girl you were courting, for her money, then why shouldn’t I believe the same about you? Why shouldn’t Alex believe the same about you?”
“This is quite enough,” Alex said. “Lattimer and I would both appreciate our wives minding their own damned business.”
“Why, Alex,” Giana said, “if you have married me for my money, and Derry finds herself in the same straits, don’t you think it fair that Derry and I decide between us what we must do?”
“Father,” Jennifer said, “would never do such a thing.”
“I know, Jennifer,” Derry said, smiling toward her tight-lipped husband. “He is an honorable man, albeit a very stubborn one.”
“Just as Alex is,” Giana added.
Charles Lattimer turned glittering eyes to Alex. “I know what I know. Laura Nielson would have married me, had it not been for her father.”
“I trust, Charles,” Derry said quickly, seeing Alex’s hands fisted at his sides, “that you cherished no violent emotions toward Laura when you married me. I would hate to believe that I was your second choice.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Charles barked at her.
“Didn’t my father want you for a son-in-law?”
“Dammit,” Alex said. “That is enough. Lattimer, would you care to leave these prying ladies to their gossip?”
“Indeed,” Charles said, rising quickly.
“Please don’t get too drunk, Alex,” Giana called to Alex’s retreating back.
Derry and Giana looked at each other for a long moment, and burst into laughter.
“How dare you laugh at my father,” Jennifer said.
“Oh, Jennifer,” Derry said, wiping her eyes, “I am laughing because I am happy.”
“As for you,” Jennifer said, turning on Giana, “the only reason Alex married you was that he got you pregnant.”
“Perhaps,” Giana said easily. “Alex is terribly persuasive.”
“Jennifer,” Derry said firmly, “I am tired of your snitty remarks. Either you mind your manners and your mouth, or you will find yourself without anyone to speak to but the servants. Alex and Giana are married and there’s an end to it. Now, get your cloak. We are going home, where, I believe, I shall celebrate with a brandy.”
“Alex, you stink.”
“Brandy,” he said, pulling off his clothes. He walked unsteadily to the bed and stood for a long moment staring down at Giana. She tried to keep her eyes on his face, but inevitably they fell down his body.
“You are an interfering wife,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “Will you forgive me?”
“You apologize? That’s unheard of.”
“Will you forgive me?”
“You’re naked,” he said, frowning down at her.
Giana patted the bed.
“I should beat the hell out of you,” he said, almost as an afterthought. He eased down beside her on his back, pillowing his spinning head on his arms.
“I hope you can wait until the baby is born.” She was quiet a few moments, watching him look up at the shadowy ceiling. “Are you going to tell me what happened with Charles Lattimer, Alex?”
He didn’t look at her, and said in a tired voice, “You mean to ask if we are now fast friends? No, Giana, not that, but perhaps we have reached some understanding. I never before much cared if he thought me a scoundrel.” Before Giana could speak, he continued, “You announced your pregnancy to the biggest and the most spiteful mouth in New York.”
“As you told me, Alex,” she said, “the baby is a fact. If you do not care that people will talk, why should I?”
“You almost announced that you will behave more properly from now on.”
“Yes, you were right. I care about the baby’s health and my own.”
“You gave Jennifer her comeuppance,” he said on a smile.
Giana giggled. “Yes, I did it well, didn’t I?” She turned on her side toward him and gently caressed the black hair on his chest. “How drunk are you, Mr. Saxton?”
“Never too drunk,” he said. “You’re always easy.” He felt her hand glide down to his belly, and stiffened.
“Do you think any man could excite me, Alex?”
“No,” he said.
“I don’t think so either,” she said. “You are so beautiful, Alex.” She rose to her knees above him and leaned down toward his mouth. “Even though you st
ink of brandy, I want to kiss you.”
“You think all will be forgiven if I let you seduce me?”
Giana grinned to herself at the irritation in his voice. “No, I’m simply thinking of myself.” She rubbed her breasts against his chest, and reached her hand down to grasp him. “Aren’t you even a bit interested, Alex?”
“Witch,” he said.
“I love you to kiss me,” she said when he released her for a moment.
Alex rolled her on her back and dipped his mouth down to hers again. His hand was gentle on her breast.
“He is growing,” he said into her mouth as his fingers caressed her swelling belly.
Alex raised his face and smiled down into her eyes. “You’re beautiful, Giana, save for your feet.”
She blinked at him. “My feet? You’re drunk, Alex.”
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings before,” he said, frowning down the length of her legs, “but the brandy has loosened my tongue. You have flat feet, Giana.”
He glided his hand down her leg, pausing a moment to caress the back of her knee, and picked up a foot. “Flat,” he said. “At least they’re small feet, and don’t intrude too much.”
Alex grinned shamelessly at her, slipped off the bed, and said, “I need more light. A man likes to see what he’s doing.”
He moved the lamp close, and resumed his study of her. “Yes, it’s only your feet I can find any fault with,” he said with satisfaction after a moment. When he covered her again, her legs grew slack and her body opened to him. She cried out his name, her hands tangling in his hair, and tensed beneath him.
“Only your feet.” He felt her muscles contract as he thrust inside her, pulling him deeper, and he fell on top of her, moaning his pleasure against her neck.
He fell into a drunken, sated sleep, pressed against her back, his hand lying negligently on her belly.
It has been a very good day, Giana thought to herself, snuggling closer to Alex’s belly.
Alex suddenly said, “I did my best to fatten you up today. We’ll see Monday if Dr. Davidson thinks you less of a runt.”
To Giana’s utter chagrin, Alex insisted upon being present when Dr. Davidson visited her. And he was in a devilish mood.
Elvan, aware to the soles of his feet of the scene around him, found that he was blushing again. That Alex should remain simply wasn’t done.
“Have you felt the baby move yet, Mrs. Saxton?”
Giana shook her head.
“Nor have I,” Alex said.
Elvan cleared his throat. “Are you resting each afternoon, Mrs. Saxton?”
“Yes,” she said, “now I do, regularly.”
“That’s true,” Alex said.
“Are you drinking enough milk?” Elvan said, rather desperately.
“I don’t care for milk.”
“I pile her toast with butter, Elvan.”
“Do you, er, have much soreness in your upper body, Mrs. Saxton?”
“He means,” Alex said, “do your breasts hurt?”
“I understood exactly what he meant, Alex,” Giana snapped. “Yes, Dr. Davidson, a bit.”
“You can be certain that I am very careful,” Alex said.
Elvan ducked his head and laid an uncomfortable hand over her belly. “The child is certainly growing,” he said, as if surprised.
“As I keep telling my wife, Elvan, I am a large man. But you’ve already told her that, have you not?”
“Yes, I have. I don’t think there are twins, Mrs. Saxton.”
“Twins.” Giana turned white.
“A pity,” Alex said. “An American baby and an English baby. That would be quite a tenable solution. Yes, a pity.”
Elvan quickly pulled down her nightgown and rose. “You are looking much healthier, Mrs. Saxton, and resting as you should. A first baby is always the most difficult and you must ensure that you are as fit as possible.”
“Yes, of course,” Giana said.
“I will continue to keep her off her feet,” Alex said.
Chapter 21
“Mr. Saxton is graceful for such a large man,” Mrs. Carruthers remarked to Giana as they watched father and daughter glide across the ice on Miller’s Pond.
“I should like to be with them,” Giana said. She turned to the governess. “Alex told me he would tie me to a tree if I even looked at a pair of ice skates.”
“Mr. Saxton is just being protective of you. He takes good care of you.”
“And he likes to have his own way.”
“Leah is a happy child,” Mrs. Carruthers said after a moment. “And I think you are an excellent mother to her, Mrs. Saxton, despite your own youth.”
“You are too kind, Anna.”
“How I look forward to the birth of your child. Babies are such a comfort, and bring new life into a home.”
Giana nodded, her eyes on the small jacket Mrs. Carruthers was knitting. For her baby, for Alex’s baby.
“I don’t know how to knit,” she said.
“It is not at all difficult,” Mrs. Carruthers said, looking up from the small sleeve, her clacking needles silent for a moment. “But you are far too busy with more important matters, Mrs. Saxton, to be concerned with this.”
“Not really,” Giana said. Since she had agreed to spend no more than a couple of hours each morning at the office, there was certainly time in her placid day to learn to knit—or sew altar cloths, if she wished. It struck her forcibly that she was listening to Mrs. Carruthers drone on about how excellent a husband and father Alex was, as if all revolved around him, just as all had revolved around the husbands in Rome. She stared at the small jacket. “It’s blue,” she said at last.
Mrs. Carruthers nodded, her expression placid. “You will have a son, of that I have no doubt. Mr. Saxton, although he says nothing of it, wants a son, and he, I believe, is a man who contrives to get his own way.”
“But I have decided I would prefer a daughter, Mrs. Carruthers.”
“Ah, yes, you are two strong people,” Mrs. Carruthers said, bending her head to her needles once again. “You are lucky to have found Mr. Saxton. He is a good man, a fair man.”
“I didn’t find him, Mrs. Carruthers. He found me.”
“But a family man. His family will always come first, I believe, particularly now that he has married you, Mrs. Saxton.”
A family man, Giana thought. All the gentlemen in Rome had been family men. She was surprised at herself, surprised at the old cynical wariness that was flooding over her. The faces of the girls at Madame Lucienne’s, so worldly wise with understanding of those men and their endless lust for them, rose starkly in her mind. Alex had not made love with her for four nights now. Was he already bored with her, and her passion for him? “Ah, my little Helen,” the laughing Elvira had told her once, “a pregnant wife makes us all so happy. Her belly is soon filled with his child, and mine with him.”
She lurched to her feet, startling Mrs. Carruthers.
“Are you feeling unwell, Mrs. Saxton?”
“No, stay here, Anna. I am feeling a bit tired, that’s all. When Mr. Saxton wishes to leave, please tell him I have taken a hansom cab home.”
She had not been in her bedroom for more than fifteen minutes before Alex burst into the room.
“What the devil do you mean leaving? Without a word to me?”
Giana gazed down at her clothes strewn on the carpet at her feet, and tightened the sash of her dressing gown. She shrugged. “I did not want you to interrupt your time with Leah,” she said. “The child was enjoying herself immensely.”
He strode toward her and clasped her shoulders in his hands. “You are my first concern, Giana. I want to know why you blithely left Mrs. Carruthers and hailed a hansom cab.”
“I am not a helpless child, Alex. I am perfectly capable of seeing myself home.”
“That’s not the point,” he said. “It was rude of you, and inconsiderate. Mrs. Carruthers thought you were upset about something. What is it?”
/> Giana felt tears sting her eyes. She tugged furiously at the sash of her dressing gown, striving for calm.
“Well?”
“Mrs. Carruthers is knitting clothes for the baby,” she whispered, her eyes fastened on her toes.
“I know,” Alex said, nothing more, merely waited.
“And she was singing your praises,” she said, still not looking at him.
“You disagree?”
Giana heard a spark of amusement in his tone, and whipped her head up at him.
“I will not be like those other women, Alex, sitting about like a lump with nothing to do but sew baby clothes, nothing on my mind but what will please my husband.”
“Do you forget so quickly that you are pregnant, Giana?”
“No. How could I? Damn you, Alex, you’re just like those precious husbands in Rome. You don’t want me anymore.”
“Don’t want you?” he repeated, his eyes narrowing in surprise on her face.
“I’m no longer a challenge. I am predictable and you are tired of me. And I am getting fat.”
Giana stepped back when Alex strode to her and clasped her dressing gown. He pulled it from her shoulders and ripped open her chemise. She stood still as he stroked the column of her throat and caressed her breasts. She was thinking of the feel of his mouth closing over her breast, when his voice brought her back to earth. “And are you tired of me, Giana? Does it now bore you when I caress you? After all, you now know well what I will do.”
“Men are different,” she said.
“Why?” he asked, whimsically now, his palms lightly caressing her.
“You haven’t touched me in four days.”
“Three. It’s not because I haven’t wanted to.” He touched his fingers to the smudged shadows beneath her eyes. “I wanted you to have some much-needed rest. I’m not a pig, Giana. I want you healthy. Now, answer me. Why?”
“How can I even think with you doing that?”
He rested his hands on her hips. “Why?” he repeated.
“Men,” she said slowly, trying to gather her thoughts, “must have variety. I saw it in Rome. A different girl each time the same man came to Madame Lucienne’s. And you, Alex. You were with Margot the first time I saw you. How many other women did you enjoy in but a month’s time?”