Coulson's Wife (The Coulson Series) (12 page)

“U
ncle William is
here!” Harrison raced down the staircase, nearly colliding with Jane, who was
on her way upstairs with an armful of clean towels.

“Slow down, you young
scamp!” Jane called after him as she quickly maneuvered out of his way.

William was just
handing the butler his jacket and hat when Harrison came sailing toward him.
The excited boy practically leapt into his arms.

“That is some welcome!”
William laughed, carrying Harrison in his arms as he walked toward the doorway
to the parlor, where Randall and Mary Ellen were standing.

“Did you bring me
something for my birthday, Uncle William?”

“Greedy lad, aren’t you?”
William laughed then tussled Harrison’s hair. “But it isn’t your birthday until
tomorrow, so you’ll just have to wait and see.” He set Harrison on his feet,
then gave Mary Ellen a brief hug and kiss on the cheek, before giving Randall a
hardy handshake.

As Randall shook William’s
hand, he used his free hand to pat William on the shoulder, then tugged him
closer and gave him a quick hug.

“Good to have you home,
William,” Randall told him.

“How was Chicago?” Mary
Ellen asked as the three walked into the parlor. Harrison stayed close to William’s
side and listened attentively to the adults.

“Things are going well,
but it’s good to be back. I must say Harrison, you’ve grown a foot.”

“I have?” Harrison
beamed.

“Yep. But what are you
going to do with three feet?”

“Oh Uncle William! You’re
silly!” Harrison giggled.

“Brandy?” Randall asked
as Harrison took a seat on the small couch.

“I’d love one. Same
supplier?”

“No, unfortunately I
had to find a new supplier. I believe the other one is currently in jail.”
Randall handed William a glass of brandy.

“Pesky prohibition.” William
chuckled and took a sip.

 “Dear, would you like
something?” Randall asked his wife, who was sitting in the wingback chair
adjacent to the couch. She wore her hair short and bobbed, which made her blue
eyes look even larger. The hem of her skirt had risen significantly since
Harrison’s birth.

 “Since you insist it’s
not illegal to drink—just to sell it—yes. Sherry, please.”

After he handed his
wife her drink, he sat on the couch next to William. Growing bored with the
adults, Harrison raced from the room to find more interesting entertainment.

“He has grown a foot.”

“Hard to believe he’ll
be six tomorrow. You are coming to the party?” Randall asked.

“Of course. It’s an
honorary uncle’s duty to attend all birthdays.”

Mary Ellen silently
sipped her sherry as the two men began talking business. For the last two years,
William had been dividing his time between Chicago and Philadelphia. Harrison
adored William, and looked forward to his visits and Mary Ellen didn’t feel William
had any inkling the boy was his.

William was still
unmarried, yet she didn’t doubt he was seeing someone in Chicago, considering
he was handsome, wealthy and charming. She never broached the subject with her
husband or William, as she found the possibility too painful. She suspected
someday she would be forced to deal with William’s bride, but would rather not
think about it now.

She and Randall
continued to have a platonic relationship, but as she approached her
twenty-fifth birthday, she found her constant state of celibacy unbearable.

“Don’t you agree Mary
Ellen?” Randall’s question brought her back to the present.

“I’m sorry, agree about
what?”

“I told William he must
stay for dinner with us.”

“Certainly.” She smiled
at William.

Seeing William again
after his four-month absence frustrated Mary Ellen, for she wondered when—and
if—these feelings for him would ever go away. Playing the role of sisterly
friend to both her husband and the man she loved was driving her over the edge.

During dinner, she ate
very little, and drank too much. She’d only been tipsy a few times in her life.
After dinner, the three retired to the parlor and Mary Ellen had another drink.
By the time William finally said his goodbyes, Harrison was fast asleep
upstairs in his room.

With a rigid posture,
Mary Ellen held onto the handrail as she made her way up the staircase, taking
deliberate steps in an effort to conceal the state of her intoxication. She was
successful in her efforts, as Randall did not seem to notice his wife was any
more than a little light headed.

Alone in her bedroom,
she stood before the full-length mirror and removed her clothes, allowing them to
fall to the floor in a forgotten heap. Once she was nude, she stared at her
body. Lifting her right hand, she touched her left nipple. Giving it a gentle
pinch she watched it pucker and thought of the time William took it into his
mouth, making her feel things she never thought imaginable.
Will I ever
experience that again?
she wondered.

Her eyes dropped lower,
and she looked at the reflection of her belly in the mirror. Running her
fingertips over the scar of her hysterectomy she thought it looked ugly.
Is
that why my husband doesn’t want me?

“I need to find out,”
she said aloud to the empty room.

Boldly she grabbed her
satin full-length robe and hastily pulled it on. After fastening the sash belt
around her waist, she left her room and walked down the hallway to Randall’s.

Stopping at the closed door,
she gave it a firm knock. Instead of waiting for a reply, she opened the door
and barged in uninvited. She found her husband standing before his mirror
fastening a tie around his neck. He had changed his clothes since dinner and
was obviously going out.

“What is it, Mary
Ellen?” He glanced her way and looked annoyed at the intrusion, then went back
to securing the tie.

“Where are you going?”
She stepped closer.

“Out. I thought you
went to bed.”

“No. I’m not sleepy.”

“Then read one of your
books.”

“Where are you going?”

“I just told you.”

“No, you said
out
.
Where is out?”

He turned and faced
her.

“What’s gotten into you,
Mary Ellen?”

“I just want to know
where my husband is going. I don’t think that’s asking too much.” She stepped
closer. He was now at arm’s length.

“Why don’t you want me
Randall?”

“Go back to your room
Mary Ellen. You’ve obviously had too much to drink.”

She stepped closer;
they were practically touching. Randall looked down at her.

“I need to know, what’s
wrong with me?”  Her question was barely a whisper.

Placing his hands on
her shoulders, he looked into her tear filled eyes.

“There is nothing wrong
with you, it’s me. Now go to your room.”

“Is there another
woman?”

Randall closed his eyes
briefly and took a deep breath before looking back into Mary Ellen’s eyes.

“I haven’t been with
another woman since we were together. I give you my solemn word.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Mary Ellen, if I take
you again it would be like it was before. Is that what you want?”

Mary Ellen thought of
the countless times he’d taken her from behind, never once caressing her body
or offering kisses.

“I need you to kiss me,”
she whispered.

Silently Randall took
his hands from her shoulders, reached down, and picked up her right hand.
Slowly he lifted it to his lips and placed a small kiss on the back of her hand
as he had done countless times. Their eyes locked and he continued to hold her
hand in his.

“I’m sorry, Mary Ellen.
That’s all I can offer you. All that I am capable of.  I will never divorce
you, yet I can’t force you to stay with me. But I will never give up Harrison.
Never. I am not heartless, and I understand you need more. The only thing I
will demand from you is your discretion.”

He gave her hand a
gentle squeeze before releasing it. Silently he grabbed his dinner jacket and
made his way to the door. Mary Ellen silently watched him leave the room. She
could hear him walking down the hall, and then heard the muffled sounds his
shoes made as he made his way down the stairway.

Numb, she walked to his
window and pulled back the curtain so she could look outside. She watched as he
got into his car and raced off into the night.

The only thing I will
demand from you is your discretion—what does that even mean?
she
wondered.

Hastily, she made her
way back to her bedroom. The effects of alcohol were wearing off but she did
not feel any less emboldened. Removing the robe, she got dressed again. Instead
of wearing what she had worn for dinner, she selected a dress more suitable for
an evening out on the town. She had no idea where she intended to go, but she
needed to leave the house.

Downstairs she found
Mrs. Parker in the kitchen.

“I’m going out for a
while, and need you to check in on Harrison for me.”

“Certainly, Mrs.
Coulson. I thought I just heard Mr. Coulson leave.”

“Yes, you did.” Mary
Ellen offered no more explanation, turned, and headed outside to the driveway.
Randall had given Mary Ellen a stylish coupe for her twenty-third birthday
after teaching her to drive. She rarely drove at night, but tonight she would
make an exception.

After getting into the
coupe, Mary Ellen sat there a moment, yet did not start the car
. Now what?
she asked herself. The first thought that popped into her head—
William. 
Perhaps Randall has gone to William’s for some reason. No, he would have told
me that. But—I wonder, what is William doing tonight? Did he go home? Is he
with another woman?

She didn’t question why
the thought of William being with another woman made her feel sick inside –
while thinking of Randall with one pricked her ego, yet inflicted no injury to
her heart. Without thought she started her car, steered it down the drive, then
onto the road, and headed to William’s estate.

When she pulled into William’s
drive, she didn’t notice any cars in the driveway. Lights were on in the main
house, and she wondered if he was home. After parking the vehicle and turning
off the engine, she sat there a moment, wondering what she would say
—
or if she would simply start her
car and return home.

 She really did not
want to go home, so she got out of the vehicle and marched to the front door.

“Mrs. Coulson, come in,”
the butler greeted a few minutes later when he opened the door.

“I wondered, is Mr.
Hunter in?” Mary Ellen asked as she walked into the entry.

“Mary Ellen, what are
you doing here?”  William had just stepped out of his library and was walking
down the hall when he heard his butler answering the door. Curious to see who
was calling at such a late hour, he hastily made his way to the entry hall.

The butler was just
helping Mary Ellen off with her light jacket when she heard William call out. Now
that he asked the question, she found herself trying to come up with a
plausible answer.

“I was hoping to borrow
a book,” she explained with forced cheerfulness. William’s gaze swept over Mary
Ellen and her mode of dress.

After the butler was
out of hearing range, he said in a teasing tone, “Aren’t you a bit overdressed
for a visit to the library?”

“I
guess I really
didn’t come for a book,” Mary Ellen admitted. She looked a bit sheepish and William
regretted making her feel uncomfortable with his flip comment.

“Isn’t Randall with
you?”

“No. I…I just needed
someone to talk to.”

“Come,” William told
her, gently placing one hand in the center of her back and guiding her to the
library. As they entered the hallway, William called out to the butler who was
walking in their direction.

“Please bring Mrs.
Coulson and me some tea in the library. She’s picking out a few books.” The
butler nodded and turned around, making his way to the kitchen.

Once they entered the library,
William showed her to the small leather couch and asked her to sit down. He sat
next to her.

“What is this about,
Mary Ellen?”

 “I guess about me and
Randall.” Unable to look William in the eyes, she sat primly on the edge of the
couch, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she looked down.

“Does Randall know
you’re here?”

She looked up at him.
“No.”

“You mean he’s at home,
and doesn’t know you left the house?”

“He went out this
evening.”

“Oh.” William was
silent for a moment. Finally he said, “I was under the impression you two were
getting along very well.”

“I suppose we do get
along. In most ways, he treats me well. I can’t really complain.”

“But?”

“He…oh, how do I say
this?” Mary Ellen blushed then took a deep breath and collected her thoughts
before continuing.

“He did change after—well
you know. After he returned from Chicago when we were first married. He made an
effort to get to know me, and so much happened with the influenza, my surgery.
We became close, like two good friends.”

“But?”

“Friends, William. Just
friends.”

“I don’t understand
what you’re saying.”

“He doesn’t want me
that way—not since he returned from Chicago that first time.”

“
Never?
”

“As best as I can
determine, since I can no longer bear children, he sees no need.”

“Is he seeing someone
else?” William asked the question without thinking. It was more a thought than
something he intended to ask out loud.

“I would assume you
would know that better than me.” Mary Ellen studied William who was gazing
ahead as if trying to deduct the situation.

“No, he’s never said
anything.”

“According to Randall,
he hasn’t been with another woman since we were together. He swore it.”

William looked back at
Mary Ellen; his face wore an odd expression.

“But the truth, I’ve
never wanted to be with Randall that way. So I suppose, even if he is lying a
part of me really doesn’t care. While he doesn’t want that aspect of a
marriage, he told me he’d never give me a divorce.”
And he would take our
son away.

“Why are you telling me
this Mary Ellen? Why did you come here?”

Mary Ellen stood up
abruptly.

“I’m sorry, you’re
right. You don’t need to hear this. You’re Randall’s friend, his business
partner.”

“No Mary Ellen, wait.”
He reached out and took hold of her wrist and pulled her back to the couch. “I
just need to know why you came here.”

“I don’t know. When he
left tonight, I had to get out of that house. I got in the car, and well, just
ended up here. You’ve always been the one person I could talk to.”

The butler entered the
room with the tray of tea. He sat it on the table near the couch and poured
them each a cup before leaving them alone. 

“Randall said something
peculiar tonight,” she said after they were alone again.

“What was that?”

“I can’t recall the
exact words…but after he expressed his disinterest, he said something about understanding
I might need more, then said the only thing he would demand of me was
discretion.
Does he imagine I’m going to be telling all our friends he doesn’t want me,
is that what he means by discretion? He wants me to keep the state of our
marriage between us? Although if that is the case, I suppose, coming here goes
completely against his demand.”

“No, Mary Ellen. I
don’t believe that’s what he meant. And I suspect in your heart, you already
know that,” he whispered.

Mary Ellen closed her
eyes. “I’m still in love with you, William.”

“Oh, Mary Ellen,” he
said sadly. Putting his arm around her, he pulled her closer. She leaned
against him as they sat quietly on the couch together.

“I’ve always wanted you
as my wife, not my mistress. I’ve long since accepted the fact you’re Randall’s
wife—and with a child between you I know he would never agree to a divorce.
That doesn’t mean you couldn’t obtain one, but the chances of you getting
custody of Harrison is slim, and I suspect you would not want to subject the
boy to that, considering he adores his father.”

“You still love me?”

“Isn’t that what I was
just saying?”

“I’m not really sure
what you’re saying.”

“Watching you two
together over the years I came to believe that what we shared was a moment in
time for you—when you were vulnerable and alone. You’d just lost your mother
and were married to a stranger who didn’t particularly treat you very well. But
later—when I left and returned—Randall was treating you better, the two of you
had seemed to come to some understanding, there was a child on the way and then
I got so ill…”

“And he saved your
life,” Mary Ellen whispered.

“Yes. We’d been friends
for so long. Had you not appeared happy with him, had he continued to treat you
as he originally had, even with a child, I’m not sure what I would have done
under those circumstances.”

They sat together on
the couch, William holding Mary Ellen closely, no longer talking but each
contemplating their situation.

“I probably shouldn’t
have come here,” Mary Ellen said at last.

“Why do you say that?”

“The last thing you
need is a married woman crying on your shoulder. I have to assume you’ll
eventually marry and start your own family.”

“Asking a woman to be
my bride, while I’m in love with another woman, never seemed right to me.”

Mary Ellen pulled out
of his embrace and turned to look at him. She loved William, but she wanted
what was best for him, even if that meant marrying another woman.

“You can’t mean you
never intend to marry. Even if I was free of Randall, I couldn’t give you
children.”
Although I have given you a son.

Silently William’s gaze
swept over Mary Ellen’s face. Reaching out with one hand he brushed his
fingertips along the side of her face ever so lightly.

“I told you once that I
intended to marry for love. But what I failed to add
—
if I can’t marry for love, I won’t marry at all.”

The hand caressing her
face slipped behind her neck and pulled her toward him. Mary Ellen opened her
mouth slightly, about to say something when his lips seized hers. Instinctively
her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as she accepted the kiss.

 Fueled by her fervent
acquiescence, he was fully prepared to push her down on the sofa and pull up
her skirt, seeking respite from the frustration he’d suppressed for so many years.
Then he imagined the image of the butler—or some less trustworthy member of the
household staff—barging in and finding the scene too titillating to ignore,
which would mean by sun-up their tumultuous tryst would become fodder for the
gossip mills.

With concerted effort, William
eased Mary Ellen from him, ending the kiss. She looked back at him with glassy
dazed eyes. Her bruised lips gave testimony to the brief passion they’d shared.

“Anyone could walk in,”
he whispered, slightly out of breath.

“I think I should go
home,” she stammered.

“That would probably be
best. We need to carefully consider everything …before …”

Instead of finishing
his sentence, he got to his feet and helped Mary Ellen from the couch. After
retrieving her jacket, he walked Mary Ellen to her car.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,
at Harrison’s birthday party.”

Mary Ellen nodded at
his statement and got into the sporty coupe.

“I want you to know, I
love you Mary Ellen. But I don’t want to hurt anyone, especially you.”

• • • •

When Mary Ellen pulled
into the drive at Coulson Estate, she didn’t see Randall’s car where he
normally parked. He was still out. The house was quiet when she went inside.
Emotionally exhausted, she went upstairs to get ready for bed.

 Several hours elapsed
and she still could not sleep. She knew Randall hadn’t returned home and
wondered where he was. Restless, she got from the bed, slipped on her robe then
went downstairs, after peeking in Harrison’s room. Her son slept soundly.

In the kitchen, she poured
herself a glass of milk and wandered out onto the back porch. It was a little
chilly outside, but not too cold for an evening stroll. Thinking of the day’s
events was keeping her up and she wondered if a little walk around the grounds
would help her sleep. Stepping down the porch steps, she held her glass of milk
in one hand while clutching the handrail.

She was just walking
around the corner of the house when she heard a car coming up the drive.
It
must be Randall,
she thought
.
Standing in the shadow of the
building, she wasn’t far from the drive. Assuming it was her husband, she stood
there waiting. To her surprise, a car she didn’t recognize pulled up, driving a
bit too fast before slamming on the breaks and turning off the engine.

The car door on the
passenger side of the vehicle opened, and she heard her husband’s laugh.
Randall stumbled from the car, obviously inebriated. The driver’s door then
opened and out stepped a tall man. From where she was standing, she couldn’t
recognize him.

With a drunkard’s swagger,
Randall made his way around the car to the driver’s side of the vehicle. She
was about to call out to him when the two men embraced and began to kiss.
Stunned, she forgot about her milk and it fell to the ground, landing on a soft
patch of lawn. While the glass did not break, the milk soaked her slippers.

Backing up, she abandoned
the glass and quickly ran from the scene and slipped back into the house before
she was discovered. When she made it upstairs to the bedroom, she looked out
the window and saw the car race off, while Randall clumsily made his way to the
house.