Just One Kiss (32 page)

He tossed a shirt into the bag. "You don't want to know."

"Yes, I do! Morgan, please tell me!"

He whirled on her, and now there was no escaping the determined glitter of his eyes. Three steps brought him before her. His fingers bit into the soft flesh of her arms, dragging her close.

"No, Elizabeth, you tell me! Which of us is the father? Nathaniel? Or me?"

"How can you even ask such a thing!" she gasped. "Why, the very idea is preposterous—"

"Is it?" Morgan's voice cut sharply across hers. "Remember the day after Nathaniel returned? You went to his house, Elizabeth, and then you lied to me about it. You said you'd gone shopping, when in fact you were
alone
with my brother! So tell me, Elizabeth." He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Who is the father? Nathaniel or me? Or do you even know?"

The crippling anguish that splintered through her was immense. That he could even think she'd been unfaithful was completely beyond her comprehension—beyond words.

A scalding rush of tears filled her eyes. Her throat closed. She could only shake her head over and over. Morgan made a sound of impatience. He swung away and grabbed his bag.

Then he was gone.

She collapsed to the floor, her soul in tatters. A strangled sob tore from deep in her chest, and it was just as she feared. Once she began, she cried as if her heart were broken.

And so it was.

It was Nathaniel who found her, huddled against the wall, utterly defeated, her face ravaged by tears and despair.

He dropped down on one knee before her, a hand on her shoulder. "Elizabeth! Good God! I heard you clear in my room. Has someone died?"

She raised her head, her tears nearly blinding her. Her throat was raw. "No," she croaked.

"What then? Why are you crying like this? And where the hell is Morgan?"

"He's g-gone. T-to the cottage."

"Why?"

"B-because I'm going to have a b-baby."

Nathaniel sat back, stunned.

"And d-do you know w-what? He asked me if it was y-yours!" The breath she drew was jagged and tear choked. "I married h-him, not you. I could never be unfaithful—never! But he doesn't trust me, and I-I don't understand! What have I done that could make him believe I would do such a thing?"

Nathaniel sucked in a harsh breath. Carefully he lowered himself to the floor beside her, bracing his good shoulder against the wall next to Elizabeth's.

"It's not you," he said quietly. "It's me.
I'm
the one he doesn't trust."

"But you're his brother. Of all people, surely he would trust his brother with his wife."

Nathaniel had gone very still. "No," he said quietly. "He wouldn't. And for a very good reason." He sighed, all at once feeling the burden of guilt on his shoulders.

It was a weight he could no longer carry.

"Elizabeth," he said softly. "I think it's time you knew the truth."

She frowned, her gaze searching his face. There were deep grooves etched in his cheeks; he was incredibly solemn. Nathaniel was usually so gay and lighthearted, she knew whatever admission he was about to reveal was somber indeed.

"The truth?" she echoed.

"Amelia was carrying a child when she died, Elizabeth." There was a heartbeat of silence. "
My
child."

«
^
»

Nathaniel had been Amelia's lover.

Elizabeth berated herself furiously for not guessing it herself. Too late she recognized the signs. The night she'd learned Morgan had been married… What was it he'd said?

Let me tell you about my dearly beloved. In all but the first year of our marriage, there was an endless parade of lovers in and out of her bed.

That wasn't the only clue. The night he'd seen Nathaniel kiss her, he'd been so angry. Half of what he'd said then had made no sense to her.

It made perfect sense now.

Kiss me, Elizabeth. We're brothers, Nathaniel and I. Brothers should share, don't you think? Even wives.

"I knew I wasn't the first," Nathaniel was saying. "I knew she'd been unfaithful to Morgan almost from the start. Everyone knew about her relationships. There were so many, I think Morgan had stopped caring long before.

"Amelia was always an outrageous flirt. If there was a man in the room, it was as if she had to have his attention—his admiration. Oh, I'd always thought she was beautiful. I don't think there was a man alive who didn't. And yes, there had always been a bit of innuendo between us, but that was just her way."

His eyes darkened. "But one summer things suddenly changed. I didn't initiate it, I swear. You see, once Amelia set her sights on a man, she could be… I don't know what else to call it… irresistible. I'm not trying to excuse what I did, Elizabeth. We both knew what we were doing, Amelia and I.

"Morgan didn't know, not at first. There was a part of me that couldn't believe I'd sunk so low. My God, I was his wife's
lover
. But I wouldn't let myself think about that. All I thought about was her. All I wanted was her. She was like—like a drug I had to have or die!"

Elizabeth listened, stunned at all he disclosed. He talked. And he talked. In some way she didn't fully understand, she sensed it was like a catharsis, a purging of the guilt he'd carried all this time.

"To this day, I don't know why I let it happen," he said. "I shouldn't have, I know. Morgan is my
brother
. For as long as I can remember, he's always been there, looking out for me. Except there's always been a part of me that's been…" He hesitated.

"Jealous?" Elizabeth finished softly. It wasn't hard to guess. The guilt in his expression was only too easy to interpret.

He nodded, staring where his hands were linked between his knees. "He was more a father to me than our own," he acknowledged, his voice very low. "I remember when I was young, I wanted to be like Morgan. He was bigger. Stronger. My father had a vicious temper. If he didn't want us near, we'd get cuffed alongside the head. But Morgan wasn't afraid to stand up to him, even when he knew what was coming."

A shadow crept over Nathaniel's face. "I think I knew even then I could never be like Morgan. I used to steal things from my father. A coin here and there. Food. And he always found out; he always confronted us. Morgan knew it was me, but he took the blame.
Always
. Even though my father took a cane to his back every time. He never cried. He never made a sound, though it had to hurt like the very devil. Not even once. He didn't even cry when Mama died, though I know he loved her more than anything."

A cane to his back
. Elizabeth nearly cried out. It was monstrous that anyone could be so cruel to a child. Yet she could almost see Morgan as a child, standing proud and tall and defiant.

"When he went to sea, he sent back every dime he earned. It was his money, not my father's, that paid for the clothes on my back, the food in my belly. He sent me to the best schools, did you know that? God," he said hoarsely, "I don't think I ever considered all he gave me until now!

"But by then I'd discovered I could never be like him. I could never be as
good
as he was—at anything. I wasn't smart like he was. I wasn't responsible. I'd never build a fortune the way he did. He was always the hero, always the rescuer. I remember the day he married Amelia. I envied him because he was lucky enough to marry someone so beautiful. And I knew that
I
would never be so lucky."

"You resented him," Elizabeth murmured. There was no bite in her tone, just a curious kind of sadness.

"Yes," Nathaniel admitted. "Odd, isn't it? The only thing he took on that failed was his marriage to Amelia." He shook his head. "And I was glad, Elizabeth. I was glad he'd finally failed at something. And when I fell in love with Amelia, it was as if Morgan didn't exist—as if he weren't my brother. I didn't care what he thought. I didn't care if he was angry. If he was hurt. If he hated me. If he felt like a fool. I didn't care if he even knew about the two of us. I didn't care
who
knew."

But there was more.

"Then Amelia discovered she was pregnant. I was ecstatic. I thought she'd leave Morgan, he'd divorce her, and we could get married. I
begged
her to."

Elizabeth was puzzled. "Wait. Amelia and Morgan still lived together?"

He nodded.

"Then how could you be certain the baby was yours and not Morgan's? How could she have been certain?"

"It was mine," Nathaniel stated with absolute finality. "Morgan hadn't touched her in months. He'd told me so ages before he realized we were having an affair. And Amelia used to rail on about how remote he was, how indifferent he was to her. Amelia was a woman who—who wanted to be worshiped and adored. Morgan had ceased to see her like that, and I think sometimes she hated him for it."

Elizabeth bit her lip. Perhaps Amelia's procession of lovers had been her way of punishing Morgan. This she kept to herself, however. Aloud she asked, "What happened then, Nathaniel?"

"Morgan had only recently learned about us. I remember Amelia saying how she'd enjoyed telling him—how she'd flaunted it. And when she told him she was pregnant with my child, she said she—she laughed. Can you imagine? She
laughed
. It was then I discovered how cruel she could be."

Nathaniel's hands were clamped on his upraised knees. His knuckles were white. "Amelia married Morgan for his money—the things it could buy. God knows why he ever stayed with her, but that's why she remained with him."

Elizabeth's heart twisted. How Morgan must have suffered!

Nathaniel swallowed; she heard his deep, ragged inhalation of air. "That's when I asked her to divorce Morgan and marry me. But she said… she said she'd really only gotten involved with me to spite Morgan. But now she was bored with me, and there was someone else…"

Elizabeth's stomach knotted. "And what about the baby? Did she plan on claiming Morgan as the father?"

A spasm of pain flitted across his features. "No," he said in an odd voice. "A baby didn't fit into her plans, you see. She told me she was going to get rid of the baby… that there were ways… She knew a woman who'd helped her once before…"

Elizabeth's face had gone pale, but she laid an encouraging hand on Nathaniel's arm. "What happened then?"

She wished she hadn't asked. Dear God, but she did…

Nathaniel's arm was like a pillar of steel, his voice choked. "She just kept saying she didn't want me. How she'd already found someone else, another lover… a
better
lover. She was laughing… I remember thinking this time she wasn't laughing at Morgan. She was laughing at
me
. Over and over and over…"

Nathaniel was staring toward the shadows, his gaze wide and unblinking. An eerie chill prickled her skin as his hands came up. He clutched at thin air.

"I grabbed her. I remember shaking her. Putting my hands around her throat, just to make her stop
laughing
. I just wanted her to be quiet. And then suddenly she… she wasn't laughing anymore."

Elizabeth stuffed her fist against her mouth to keep from crying out.

Nathaniel had killed Amelia.

His voice was thick and unrecognizable. "I killed her, Elizabeth. I killed her, the woman I loved! I didn't mean to. God, I swear I didn't mean to!" His breath came jerkily. "I remember holding her, crying… Suddenly Morgan was there…"

Elizabeth closed her eyes. It was suddenly so very clear—why Morgan had seemed so callous when she'd asked if he'd discovered the identity of Amelia's murderer. And Stephen had said Morgan's only crime was finding Amelia's body.

But he'd found his brother as well.

Elizabeth had to struggle to speak. "No one else knows, do they? No one but you and Morgan."

He nodded. She saw that his eyes had grown suspiciously moist. "Elizabeth, that's not all. The police arrested Morgan for—for her murder."

"I know," she said quickly. "Stephen told me he was charged and held, but eventually the charge was dropped."

"You don't understand. Elizabeth, I was such a coward. I let him take the blame for me." There was raw shame etched into every word. "I killed her, and Morgan took the blame. I let him sit in jail. I would have let Morgan go to prison—for
me
. If it had come down to it, I would have let him"—Nathaniel's voice cracked—"I would have let him
die
for me."

He buried his head in his hands and wept.

Elizabeth's throat was achingly tight. She slid an arm around Nathaniel's shoulder and held him, like a mother giving sheltering comfort to a child who'd been hurt.

She wasn't afraid. She didn't judge Nathaniel. She didn't condemn him, for Nathaniel had just confirmed what she had always known to be true.

Morgan was the leader. The strong one, the rock to lean upon, the one to shoulder the burden.

But no one could be strong forever.

And no one should
have
to be.

North of Boston, darkness had settled over the coastline. The sky was moonless and cloudy, the monotonous swell of the ocean a dull murmur. The inside of the cottage was thick with shadows, as black as the night without.

Morgan slumped in his chair. He wasn't drunk, for he'd already discovered there was no solace in drink. He was merely incredibly weary beyond measure, though he hadn't moved a muscle in hours.

He'd arrived at the cottage late last night, and already another day had slipped by. Yet still the tumult in his mind—in his heart!—gave him no respite.

He'd guarded his feelings closely, since the day he'd lost his mother and found himself completely alone; afraid that to reveal them might very well open the door to heartache and pain.

And indeed it had. He'd risked his heart once—
once
, with Amelia. But from the day he'd learned of her first illicit love affair, he'd vowed he would open his heart no more.

But that was before Elizabeth.

He should have been ecstatic. He'd given up his dreams of having children long ago. Amelia hadn't wanted to ruin her figure. And with Elizabeth, well, she'd married him to avoid scandal. He hadn't dared to hope she might someday want to give him children.