Bittersweet Endeavors Page 13

  He then wondered if he could also convince himself of that, too.

  * * *

  “Why didn’t you speak to me about this first?” Her anger came so great that she wanted to spit on the expensive tapestry below his feet. She nearly did, too. “I shan’t be attending this affair!”

  “Tis expected of you, Myra, and our guests are arriving in a few short hours. You shall be in attendance,” he ordered. When she didn’t move, Zachary approached her and took her by the arm in a firm grasp. He glared at her through his stormy gray eyes, and he roughly shook her. His hand twisted at her arm and he dragged her to the armoire. His free hand ripped a gold color gown from the depths of her bureau, and he angrily said through clenched teeth, “Put this on or I shall do it for you, I swear.”

  Myra’s breath caught in her throat. She shrugged him off and hesitantly reached for the gown. “I’ll be returning to my room at eleven o’clock claiming a headache. I refuse to stay longer than deemed necessary for this charade.” Her chin rose in defiance, and although she should’ve expected the slap he gave her across the face, she didn’t. The force of the blow hurled her onto the floor with a thud.

  “You shall learn discipline and respect as my wife, Myra,” he bit out. “Do you understand?”

  She stayed still on the floor, and when he approached her, she scooted back and prepared for another assault.

  “Now that you are my wife, you shall see there shall be changes to our previous pact.” He swept a sensuous glance and thoroughly examined her.

  “We have an agreement. If you don’t uphold your end of the bargain, be assured that my cousin shan’t find forgiveness. He’ll also make you pay for any harm you might impose upon me.” Myra feared Zachary would abandon their original deal, and although his statement worried her, it wasn’t a surprise.

  His bitter, arrogant laughter rang out. She began to detest his laughter as much as the malevolent smile that consistently covered his face. She wondered how she once considered him handsome.

  “What man could fault another man for taking what is rightfully his by law and God? Even The King cannot argue that.”

  Myra rose from the floor and dusted herself off. Although she felt her confidence returning and planned a retort, she suspected he’d assault her again. Even if she was able to tolerate his abuse, she feared that her unborn child’s safety might be jeopardized.

  “I’ll go along with this sham publically, but when we are alone, I intend for you to keep your distance from me.” She drew in a deep breath and slowly released it to relax herself. “However, if you try to force yourself upon me, I’ll take my leave from this house. And have no doubt, I’ll make sure you rue the day if attempt to stop me.”

  Zachary walked toward her and she held her place. She refused to release control of the situation. No matter how much she wanted to step back, she didn’t give in to the urge.

  His hand rose threateningly, but he brought it down and glided it across her face in a rough caress. She nearly flinched but didn’t, and she was proud of herself for the small victory.

  “Then so be it. I’ll concede, for now.”

  His hand slid down her cheek until it rested at the base of her neck. His lecherous gray eyes searched hers in a deep, thorough stare. She wondered if he was searching to see her fear. No matter, she thought, she’d give him naught. She returned his stare with a blank expression. His hand slithered further down until it met between her breasts that were exposed from the green day gown she was wearing. Lowering her chin, she glanced at his hand and returned her eyes to his. She shivered with repulsion and hoped he didn’t misinterpret it as pleasure by his vile action.

  “Remove your hand from my person,” she quietly, but firmly demanded.

  His hand remained for a few more moments more, as did the venomous smile on his lips. But before he removed his hand, he took the liberty of grasping her breast, painfully hard. She jerked away from him and desperately wanted to slap that smug, sinister smile from his face!

  “It’s getting late, Myra, and I haven’t the time or inclination to waste words with you. I’ll return in an hour and escort you downstairs to our guests. Some shall be joining us early. I expect you to look your very best.” He walked to the door and turned around. “And with Seth Preston in attendance, I’ll expect you shalt want the same.” He mocked surprise. “Oh,” he laughed. “The lady can show emotion after all, eh?” He stepped back inside the room and raised his finger at her. “Don’t forget my warning. I’ll not tolerate you embarrassing me. You are my wife now, Myra, and it shall serve you well to remember that tonight.”

  She was so disgusted with him she turned away. Distant footsteps sounded in the hall and offered proof that he had left. When she turned around to be certain, she breathed out in relief to see he was no longer in her room.

  But what would she do about Seth? She expected Mister Preston and his wife, Anna, to be at the affair, but not in her worst night terror did she believe that Seth would be in attendance. Her heart ached and she yearned for his endearing words one more time. Yet Seth’s hateful words echoed inside her mind. It felt as if she’d break in two each time she remembered.

  She stiffened and held her chin up and vowed that she’d not let his forsaking her cause disruption within her mind. The babe in her belly was her priority. Even though Seth wanted nothing to do with their child, the babe within her womb meant the world to her. And being so, she needed to secure the baby’s safety from Zachary doing any harm. First, she wanted assurance from Seth that he’d not reveal to Zachary of the baby’s existence. Myra assumed that would be easy enough to obtain. Certainly he’d not want it announced that a married woman carried his child. His reputation would be in as much jeopardy as hers. She wondered who told Seth. If Zachary had already known, he’d sure have said something. Anvil. Aye, she thought, Anvil more than likely heard the news somehow. She needed to find a way to hide the imminent event from her new husband. At five months, she was yet to show observable signs of her impending condition, but her secret wouldn’t stay hidden for long.

  However, Myra had more immediate problems to address. In less than an hour hence, she was going to be forced into confronting Seth. Going to her bureau, she fetched her face powder and began to dab the marks Zachary left behind. It was soon to turn into a darkened bruise. Through her looking-glass, she viewed the yellow hue that surrounded the outer edge of the welt, and she winced.

  “Gadzooks! What would the good townspeople think if they saw me in such a state of disarray? They’d certainly be dismayed to see such a fright,” she said to herself through the looking glass. A devious smile reflected back at her, and she picked up the handkerchief that sat on the table. Slowly, she swiped all traces of powder from her face. The bruise came back into view in all its dreadful hues of gray, blue, and yellow. She rose from her chair and left the room.

  T’was time to greet her guests.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  215

  Myra stood atop the steps and looked down at the visitors below. Guests already arrived and a handful of them waited at the bottom of the steps for her to make her appearance. But of them all that eagerly awaited her arrival, only one caught her attention. Seth.

  He wasn’t alone. Cassandra stood by his side. Her arm entwined within his as he led her to the entryway at the bottom of the staircase. A thought occurred to her, and she swallowed the tears that formed in her throat. Perhaps he told her the truth that day by the lake. She wondered if he truly had thought about Cassandra when they made love. She brushed the disparaging thought aside. Seth loved her once, and would again, she had to believe that.

  Myra blatantly stared at Seth. Drawn to him by the need in having him back, she couldn’t look away. He appeared more handsome than she had ever seen him in his gold embroidery waistcoat accompanied with tight black breeches. She continued down the steps and tried not to look at him again. But she felt his gaze on her—and his hatred. Heat rose from her body by her knowing his eyes
followed her down each step. She swallowed a deep breath of air and finished her descent down the stairs.

  To Seth’s right stood his parents, Anvil and Anna. Anna offered Myra a warm smile, and withstanding the decorum of polite society, Anvil took her hand into his and dutifully bowed over it. She knew he’d rather spit in her eye than show such display of respect, but while others looked on from the adjoining rooms, he displayed due cordialness. Anvil rose to look at her, and by his shocked expression, he noticed the mark Zachary had left behind. His demeanor changed. He hemmed and sputtered then looked at his wife. Anna squeezed her hand tightly, smiled sympathetically, and closed her long lashes slowly as if she felt Myra’s pain. Embarrassed for not hiding the shameful bruise, Myra relented and wanted to return upstairs.

  “Let me be the first to introduce you to my wife,” Zachary offered, and he led Myra into the sitting room. Many guests eagerly awaited within for her arrival. No doubt their attendance was for the purpose of having visual confirmation that Zachary Frederickson truly married a servant girl. Tongues wagged faster than a dog’s tail the previous week by the announcement in town.

  Zachary’s eyes lowered and perused her form-fitting, gold satin gown. By the pleasing hum and benevolent smile he offered, she earned his unsolicited approval. His gaze roamed toward her black ringlets where the thick strands curled in neat, orderly fashion around her neck. She stole a glimpse at Seth and wondered if he saw her dignified appearance that befitted her true station. Yet to her irritation, he centered his attention on Cassandra, the beauty at his side. It was as if Myra wasn’t there at all.

  Zachary cleared his throat and began to make her introduction into Jamestown society. She nodded her head and demurely blinked in silent approval for him to continue. His arrogant, smug look again appeared on his face, and it brought an instant bout of sickness inside the pit of her stomach. The heavily curled periwig he donned gave him a sinister appearance, and there was an odd look in his eye. He was up to something. He planned some form of trickery; she could feel it right down to her bones. Insomuch that he was too preoccupied to notice the ghastly mark he left behind on her face. Unless, he didn’t care who saw it.

  “As I was saying,” he began again. “Let me introduce you to my lovely wife.” After a dramatic pause, as well as he afforded time for the guests in the adjoining rooms to gather, Zachary looked at her. This time he noted the bruise on her face.

  “How dare you come down looking like that for our guests?” he hissed in her ear. “Why didn’t you cover it? Any proper woman would have.”

  “I thought our guests mayhap want to see what wedding token my husband gave me,” she said coldly.

  He wrapped his hand around her arm and squeezed so tightly that Myra winced and an unladylike curse lingered on her tongue.

  “You must excuse my new wife’s appearance this evening,” he offered to all the callers within earshot. “She had a small mishap. She bumped her head on the bedpost late last evening.” He turned to Myra and smiled, but still targeted his guests whilst he spoke. “The wedding bed can produce such a dangerous sport when a spirited woman as my wife joins it,” he said aloud. “Perhaps next time, my wife should be less exuberant in trying to please her new husband, aye?”

  Tawdry laughter rang out amongst many of the male guests, and the women in the crowd lowered their heads, and blushes tainted through their pale, powdered skins.

  How dare he humiliate her! Myra searched for Seth, praying there might be a way to relay her denials to him. To Hell with all the rest, but dear Lord, don’t let Seth believe Zachary’s words were truthful. Their visitors crowded closer but she wasn’t able to find Seth within the throng.

  When the laughter died down, Zachary continued. This time, he was more dignified in tone and manner. “Good people of Jamestown,” he addressed. “I give you my wife, Lady Myra. The Lady Myra of Brunnington, as well as she is a cousin to our very own King Charles.”

  Gadzooks! What is he doing? She wondered why he hadn’t considered the repercussions at such an announcement before Mary was found and placed somewhere safe. She also began to fret about the she carried. If her uncle discovered there was another heir that threatened to unseat him, it’d give him more cause to hunt her and remove the threat.

  She searched for Seth again. She feared he may have left, but when she almost gave up hope that he was still in attendance, she saw him. Only an arm’s length away, he stood behind her and his face held the same expression as that of the other guests—complete confusion. Anvil stood near his son. His eyes were wide with amazement and his face blushed into crimson red. Showing an unusual amount of indiscretion, Anvil pulled Zachary aside. Myra heard each word with distinction, as well as most of their guests.

  “What is the meaning of this? Surely you don’t believe her nonsense! Admittedly, I heard the blather within my household about the girl’s claims, but I wasn’t foolish enough to believe them. Certainly it’s not true. You’ll be made a fool when the truth is discovered of her poor lineage.”

  “Anvil,” Zachary cooed out softly, condescendingly. “Do you honestly think that I’d marry and not make inquiries about my bride’s past?” The laughter that followed from Zachary’s mouth made Anvil’s face deepen into a brighter red.

  “Tis true? She is actually The King’s cousin? But had I known—” Anvil abruptly stopped after he realized his error, but Zachary didn’t give courtesy in letting the opportunity pass.

  “You’d have what? Saved her for your son? Wouldn’t have come to me that night and beg my assistance to separate the two?” His eyebrow quirked, as did the corner of his mouth with that haughty grin he displayed so well with disdain. “Would have secured your son for the position of Lord Brunnington?”

  For as much as she hated the pompous man, she gave Zachary credit for setting Anvil in his place. Myra wished she possessed the audacity to have done it herself.

  Anvil looked around and noticed the attention they received from the other guests, and he then suggested they continue their discussion privately. “I’d like to converse further on this matter in your study.” It came more as a demand than request and it surprised Myra when Zachary granted him the private audience.

  Zachary raised Myra’s hand and made an endearing scene for all to view. “I shall return momentarily, my love.”

  As promised, she feigned her public affection with a smile and a soft caress in her voice. “Please, take your time,” she said and curtsied to him.

  The moment they were gone, a crowd of prominent guests approached her, surely drawn by their awe of her pedigree, and not by her. They were the same people who didn’t even bid her a simple ‘how-do-you-do’ when she walked down the streets in town. Myra raged inwardly and thought about what hypocrites they all showed themselves to be. She turned and looked for Seth. She wondered if he may have regret for denying the baby his name, now that she was a person of status.

  “I’d like to speak to you.” The voice came from behind her and startled her. The masculine whisper drifted away as Seth brushed passed her and quickly moved onward as to be discreet. She followed him with her eyes until he disappeared outside the double doors that led to the outside gardens. After a quick search of the room, she saw that Zachary hadn’t yet return. Either that, or out of sight, too busy bragging about being a husband to someone related to The King. Once assured Zachary remained distracted, Myra left the room and descended the steps outside until she met the roses that lined beautifully in their full bloom.

  There he stood. He was solemn, tall, and glorious in his magnificence. Oh, how she missed his broad arms holding her protectively, lovingly. He took a step toward her when she approached.

  “I should have expected that you’d lie to me when asked if the rumor was true, Myra.” He lowered his head, and in a whisper, he said under his breath, “Or should I say, Lady Myra?” There was a hint of sarcasm, even disgust, as he said her name, and she wondered if it bothered him that she was legitimately his better.


  “Whatever you will, Seth, it makes no difference to me. My status has naught to do with who I really am. You of all people should know that.”

  His head rose up quickly and she saw the raw pain in his eyes…or mayhap anger. Possibly regret? Regret for not marrying the Lady Myra when he had the chance? Perhaps Seth’s father finally succeeded and swayed him to the importance of status and social climbing, or worse, there was no need of convincing at all. She wondered if his summoning her outside was a chance to reunite now that she was a worthy subject for him. “Why have you beckoned me out here, Seth?” She tried not to appear anxious and believed she accomplished the task.

  “I’m sorry that I ever met you,” he said quietly.

  “Is there anything else you would like to apologize for?” she said mockingly. But she regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. She wanted him to apologize for denying his child the chance to have a father, but an issue not to be forced, she knew. How could she push a child onto a man who didn’t want it? Especially to someone who might push that child away, as his father had done with Lucia.

  Seth didn’t answer, but by the way his hands clasped into fists at his sides, she saw that he didn’t like her question or her tone.

  “I didn’t think so,” she said softly. “I’ll be retiring to my room for the night. If you’ll excuse me, I shall take my leave.” She turned and started to walk away, but the light touch of his hand on her shoulder gave her pause. She didn’t turn around right away but inhaled a deep breath of air that mingled with his masculine scent.

  Before she had a chance to clear her mind of the idea of him holding her, kissing her, making love to her—it happened. He pulled her into his embrace, and with a passion deeper than she’d ever known, he kissed her. The sweet aroma of tobacco and spices rushed her senses, and she reacted the only way her body allowed when next to his—she gave in to the love and desire that she craved to receive from him. She draped her arms around his broad shoulders and leaned against his muscular frame. Her knees felt so weak that she needed his support. She tightened her hold and wrapped her arms securely around his neck and returned his passionate kiss.