Love and Dreams: The Coltrane Saga, Book 6 (36 page)

“My dear, aren’t you going to entertain us?”

Jade glanced up to see Mrs. Stokes watching her with a curious gleam in her eyes. Good heavens, her panic probably showed on her face, and she could see that Lita was staring at her, also puzzled by her behavior. Quickly, she scanned the room once more. Colt was nowhere to be seen. In fact, there were very few men in attendance at all. She counted five.

Mrs. Stokes touched her arm, leaned forward to solicitously, nosily, inquire, “Is something wrong, dear? Is there something I can do?”

Jade made herself take a deep breath, lift her head, and declare, in a sure, even tone, “No, of course not. What could be wrong? I’m going to dance now.” She started walking toward the little area she’d roped off for a stage. It was a mean, cruel trick, she decided. Colt had sent the flowers and the note to upset her, perhaps to make her lose concentration and dance terribly—all to punish her for daring to go to his home. Fine. It had almost worked, but not quite, because she’d be damned if she’d let it ruin her performance. One thing was for certain, though—he’d never have to worry about her bothering him, his so-called wife, or hateful mother-in-law ever again. Besides, she entertained the delicious thought, having Triesta for a mother-in-law was surely retribution of a kind anyway.

Jade took her position in the middle of her improvised stage, and a polite hush fell over the crowd. As the music filled the room, Jade slowly raised her arms and began to dance.

When she finished, the room exploded with applause, and Jade made a sweeping curtsy for her audience. Then she announced that the studio was officially open and was accepting applications for students as young as six years of age, as old as fifteen, for ballet, but all ages would be accepted for waltz and other ballroom dances.

Again there was applause, and she escaped to one of the dressing alcoves where Lita waited with a long velvet robe to cover her costume. As bad as she hated to ask, Jade, hoping her voice sounded disinterested, inquired, “That man who sent the roses, Mr. Coltrane…did he show up?”

Lita thought a moment, then shook her head. “Nobody else came in, so I don’t think so.”

Jade breathed a sigh of relief, pushed the velvet curtain aside, and stepped out to greet her guests. They surged forward to congratulate and praise her, and then, after sipping tea, nibbling cakes and cookies, began to leave. Jade found herself wanting them all to go, yet dreading the time when she was alone, for the memories would come back to haunt, she knew.

“Mrs. Stevens…”

Jade heard the familiar voice just behind her and was benumbed. She was no longer aware of the woman who’d been talking to her about enrolling her eight-year-old daughter in classes, for her mind, as well as her heart, seemed to be frozen in time.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” Colt stepped around to stand beside her. She was dimly aware of his polite nod to the woman she’d been speaking with, and suddenly she felt vulnerable, her emotions exposed for all the world to see.

“Well, I’ll get in touch with you about Abigail.” The woman moved away, anxious to have more cake.

“I hope you don’t find me presumptuous.”

Jade looked up at him incredulously. Good grief, what kind of sick joke was he playing? Why was he torturing her? Dimly, dizzily, through the thick fog that was slowly engulfing her, suffocating, squeezing, she acknowledged he was as handsome as ever. The warm steel-gray eyes framed by thick dark lashes, the firmly chiseled features of his face, the familiar way the corner of his mouth turned up as he grinned, almost mockingly. God forgive her, but she actually had a fleeting memory of how that sensuous mouth felt when he’d kissed her. What was wrong with her? She should be screaming at him, hating him, demanding an explanation for his torment but instead was assailed with burning memories of past desire.

He was staring down at her curiously. Why? Surely he knew what she was feeling. Yet he stood there so expectantly innocent.

He raised an eyebrow, cocked his head to one side. “My God, you really
are
angry, aren’t you? I’m terribly sorry. I meant no offense.” Shaking his head in shameful contrition, he rushed on to say, “I guess I did have my nerve, inviting myself, thinking the roses would smooth things over in case you were offended.”

Jade could hardly speak but managed to croak the demand, “Why? Why did you come here? Haven’t you done enough to me?”

He blinked emitted a nervous chuckle, murmured, “I don’t know what you mean. I wasn’t aware I’d done anything to you.”

“The other night…” She spoke hoarsely, between clenched teeth, after glancing about to make sure no one could overhear. “At the Hayeses’ party. You came up to me on the terrace, pretended you didn’t know me…”

“What?” he echoed, laughing once more, for he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Mrs. Stevens, I’m sorry.” He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “I’m afraid I have to admit I do lots of strange things sometimes. I know it’s not an excuse, but I had an accident awhile back, and sometimes things just get confusing, but I wanted to speak to you the other night, because I found you so beautiful, and you reminded me of…” his voice trailed off, and he actually took a step backward, away from her, as though suddenly burned, “…someone I thought I knew, though I can’t remember. It was your dancing. Maybe you remind me of a dancer I once saw somewhere.

“Well…” He gave a lopsided smile, shrugged, face slightly flushed with embarrassment. “All I can do is apologize again. I didn’t realize you’d be so angry.”

Jade felt as though she’d been hit full in the face by a drenching of ice water.

Their eyes met, held, and, dear Lord, she knew, somehow, in that bone-chilling instant, that he was not putting on an act.

He really and truly did not know who she was!

“Well…” He nervously twisted his dapper straw hat in his hands. “I guess I shouldn’t have come. I did want to see you dance, though, and I’m glad I did, even if you are angry.” He flashed the old devil-may-care look that always thrilled her, then spun on his heel and left.

Lita appeared at her side as if by magic. “He
did
show up.” She shook her head, staring after him. “I still don’t understand what a man like that sees in Lorena Vordane.”

Jade stiffened, snapped, “Lita, sometimes you forget your place.” She walked back into the dressing room, needing to be alone.

Now she was more confused and baffled than ever. Colt really did not know who she was. He’d mentioned an injury, how sometimes he did strange things. Was that what had led him to marry Lorena? But no matter if it was; if he didn’t know who she was, then perhaps he didn’t even know he’d been married before.

Perhaps, she contemplated with a lump of constricting fear in her throat, he didn’t even know who he was.

What was she going to do about it?

What
could
she do about it?

Did she even have a right to pursue this? Maybe not, she argued with herself. After all, they each had their own lives now, were committed to other people. But surely she had a moral obligation to find out the truth, didn’t she? She couldn’t just walk away and not find out what had really happened to him. She owed it to him, to herself, and yes, whether right or wrong, she knew she owed it to their love…and the dreams they’d once shared.

Bryan.

Above all, Bryan was her friend. And she felt the sudden need to talk to him, to share all the strange feelings and doubts and frustrations. He’d be a shoulder to lean on, and he’d no doubt agree she should get to the bottom of whatever was going on. After all, she fondly recalled, he was the one who’d insisted on hiring a private detective agency to learn the truth.

That evening, Jade instructed that dinner be served in the master suite, “with champagne ready to be poured the second Mr. Stevens gets home.”

She took a long, leisurely bath, had a glass of brandy to ease her tension. She wanted a totally relaxed atmosphere, because if Bryan mistook her anxiety for anything other than what it was, well, he was jealous enough of her studio without suspicions of nurtured feelings for Colt adding to it.

She had just finished brushing her hair, long and loose, to fall around her shoulders when Bryan arrived. She was wearing his favorite leisurely ensemble—a gossamer white gown with matching satin robe, edged in delicate lace and tiny pink bows.

She padded across the room to greet him with a hug, a kiss, and a whispered “Oh, Bryan, I’m so glad you’re home.”

He smiled, pleased but suspicious. Removing his coat, then cravat, he accepted the paisley smoking jacket she offered. “How’d the recital go?” he asked, after the usual small talk about his day.

Bursting to tell him everything, Jade was about to begin when a servant arrived with dinner trays. Anxiously she waited while their places were set on a white-linen-covered table by the window overlooking the river. The delicious smells of roast chicken, fresh-baked bread, and spiced apples filled the air.

Bryan noticed her nervousness and asked, “Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” she said, deciding it would be best to wait until after they’d eaten to tell him about Colt. So instead, she launched into a description of the successful recital and tea.

Finally, after Bryan had eaten his fill, while she’d barely picked at her food, and he seemed properly mellow with coffee and cognac, Jade settled onto the cushions of the window seat. Tucking her feet beneath her, she drew in her breath, let it out slowly, offered a silent prayer for the right words, then said, “I’ve seen Colt.”

Bryan had been in the act of lifting his cup to his mouth, but upon hearing her declaration, dropped it with a clatter and a hot slosh of liquid in the saucer. “What did you say?” he gasped, turning pale.

Jade swallowed hard, repeated, “I’ve seen Colt.”

His voice was ominous. “Where? When?”

“First, at the Hayeses’ party,” she said quietly. “Then today, at my recital.”

He glared at her, tight-lipped, grim. “You invited him to your studio? Why?”

Quickly, she shook her head. “No, no, you don’t understand. He doesn’t even know who I am. It’s so sad, Bryan, really.” She went on in a rush to tell him everything, about the conversation on the Hayeses’ terrace, the roses he’d sent to smooth over his inviting himself to the recital. Finally, she repeated, “And he doesn’t know who I am, Bryan. Something strange is going on. I don’t think he even knows who he is.”

Bryan had begun to relax as she spoke, and very gently said, “Well, what did you expect, Jade? That he’d go charging up to you in front of everyone and shout how glad he was to hear his first wife isn’t dead? Think about it, my dear.” He flashed a sardonic smile. “He’s not a stupid man. He’s remarried, has a new baby, and he’s not going to jeopardize all that and cause a lot of gossip. It’s easier to pretend he doesn’t know you. And you’d be wise to do the same.”

“You’re wrong, Bryan. Colt isn’t pretending. I thought so, too, at first, but today, at the studio, he looked me straight in the eye, and I could see he wasn’t putting on an act. He really doesn’t know me.”

Bryan’s laugh was patronizing. “Come now, Jade. It has to be an act. Why else would he show up at your studio? No doubt to let you know, once and for all, this is the way he’s going to handle any future social encounters. I think it’s a wonderful idea. I commend him for it. So why are you upset?”

Teeth clamped together in frustration, she bitingly repeated herself. “Because I don’t think it’s an act. I think he’s really and truly suffering from amnesia of some kind.” She leaned forward, hand outstretched imploringly. “I need your help, Bryan, because I think we should find out what’s going on.”

He did not take her hand. “Have you lost your mind? I don’t care what’s going on, and neither should you. We’re married, for God’s sake. Coltrane is a part of your past, and dammit, I’m not going to tolerate you chasing around asking a lot of questions that no longer concern either one of us and get a lot of gossip started.” He had begun to pace around the room, suddenly whirled and hotly announced, “I’m going to hire security guards to make sure he doesn’t come around anymore. Now that I think about it, he might be suffering from some kind of brain damage, not safe to be around. Maybe he does remember you and wants to make trouble. I’ll see that he doesn’t.” He balled his hand into a fist, shook it at her.

Jade was stunned, horrified by Bryan’s reaction and behavior. She’d expected understanding, compassion; certainly not what she was observing. “He’s not a lunatic,” Jade coolly said. “And I don’t need bodyguards. I wanted your help, but it’s obvious I won’t get it.”

“I won’t help, and you aren’t going to pursue it. Leave it alone, Jade. I’m your husband. You’re my wife, and that’s an order.”

She stared at him, aghast.

“That’s right.” He nodded firmly. “An order. The first real order I’ve ever given you. And by God, you’re going to obey me, or I swear I’ll take you to the island and leave you there. I’ve worked too hard, too long, to get where I am…to have the kind of marriage we’ve got, the social acceptance, and I won’t see it destroyed because you aren’t able to forget the past!”

He went to the door, opened it, paused, and turned to look at her, eyes flashing with anger. “I mean what I say.” His voice was raspy. “Stay away from Coltrane, and he’d better stay away from you. I love you, Jade, more than my life, and I won’t lose you, and I swear I’ll kill anybody who tries to take you from me!”