Passion's Joy (43 page)

Considering all this, the question pressing on everyone's mind was how had Lord Barrington finally been caught? The question was answered as Lord Barrington's title was announced and over three hundred interested gazes turned to see the new Lady Barrington. The first sight of her gave rise to another question, though. How had that loveliness emerged from the far and distant corner of the world, France's last and most ridiculous attempt to bring civilization to the new world, a place of swamps, fist-sized insects, dark-skinned Negroes, people who spoke French? It was simply not possible!

Joy's gaze swept across the grand room once, that was all. The single glance took in the gold plated candelabra above a black and white checked marble floor. Like a giant chess board, it was decorated with the pale pastel colors of silk gowns prettily interspersed with the black uniform of the gentlemen's dress, all of which was laced with bright glitter of jewels and accented by the

dizzying aroma of too much perfume. She was acutely aware still of his calloused, ungloved hand on her elbow, his height and stature, the warmth emanating from his nearness as he guided her through the receiving line. Yet the moment he stepped into the bright light, something had changed within him, too. She could feel it, a sudden tension and weariness, the shrewdness of a hunter.

Why? She could not but wonder, for like a puppet, she smiled, curtsied and spoke, mechanically going through the motions of being real and alive while she felt she floated to the distant ceiling, watching from that safe distance.

All sense heightened as she was presented to the Prince Regent, yet so did the strings mechanically manipulating her, and she would have been hard pressed to repeat a word of the exchange. She listened to the banter between Ram and the famous monarch, seeking a sign of their animosity and hostility, yet finding none—unless one looked beneath the innuendos concerning fathers, health and the expected congratulations on their son. Finally, the Prince Regent's attention fell on her, and as it did, Ram's grip tightened on her elbow perceptibly. He brought her arm behind her back, drawing her closer with a possessive intimacy lost on no one, least of all her. A minute later Joy could not have said what the Prince Regent looked like, past his excessive girth.

The introductions continued and Joy's numbness produced a curious effect on people's impression of her. As Ram watched what was happening, he could have laughed. Her vulnerability in the situation created a mysterious and ever so alluring air of extreme gentleness, while her numbness was misread as shyness. People found Lady Harrington so delicate, so perfectly fragile, the startling gentleness of her person contrasting provocatively with the man at her side. Fault was looked for in vain. The shyness and fragility fooled no one; one had only to gaze into those lovely eyes to discover the intelligence sparkling there, an intelligence revealed further in her clever evasion of inquiries. Many ladies had prepared cunning remarks with which to damn the new Lady Barrington, and yet, as the moments came to deliver their indictments, they found themselves awkwardly silent.

After two short hours, Lady Caroline summed the matter up: "Lady Barrington is an unprecedented success."

"With her horrid background, one could never have imagined," another said.

"It's such a shame, too," still another lady sighed. "I had such high hopes of finally seeing something Lord Barrington was to fail at." —

Music played magnificently, dances were danced, champagne drunk and throughout it all, it was a dream and a nightmare in turns. Never, in all the time she had known Ram, had he been this possessive of her. With the exception of when she danced with another, Ram's touch never once left her. She experienced his possessiveness with conflicting feelings of reassurance and nervousness; reassurance because no one watching could perceive his animosity, nervousness because he was obviously afraid to leave her. Was he afraid she'd embarrass him? Didn't he know she'd rather die than embarrass him?"

"Look there." Ram pointed.

Joy swung around, and there, presented for the enjoyment of the guests, was an enormous grotesque, pink glass swan, the opulent center piece for the buffet tables. Only it wasn't glass, it was carved ice, melting by degrees into a shiny brass bowl of punch, the size of a garden fish pond.

She stared in stunned disbelief, trying to guess where the ice had been found, how the monstrosity was created. Her gaze travelled over the length of the tables, seeing the variety, abundance and artful array of foods. Every imaginable food! She felt an impulse to steal some for Sammy and Cory, and Ram saw her first sincere smile.

Soon after, Ram finally did leave her but only to the familiar company of his uncle Admiral Byron and his wife, Lady Mellissa. No one was more pleased with Lady Barrington than Ram's great uncle and aunt. A practical, straight forward man, he never understood his great nephew's obsession with Barrington history. Upon the death of his sister, then later her husband, he had been Alisha's only surviving relative. After her death, when he had found how her boy was being raised, when Ram had told him about Lord Barrington, he had searched through Alisha's last letters. He looked for signs of her trouble. One might view her appeal for his neglected visit, her repeated request for his company as a plea for help, but then again she might have just been lonely. Of course that was queer business itself, the way her husband had removed her to the lonely, isolated coast of Ireland...

Frankly, he never knew what to make of the wretched mess. He felt certain his nephew made too much of it, until he received the letter saying that Ram had married Dr. Reubens's lovely niece, that he at last had a son! Oh, he had celebrated with Mellissa, yes indeed. Not only had Ram finally set aside the past, he had picked the perfect wife—Joy Claret Reubens.

Numbness began a sudden retreat and interest perked as the retired admiral enthusiastically engaged Joy with a detailed description of the last letter he received from their mutual connection,

the Reverend Archibald Cox. She did not know how long she engaged the kindly older couple—it could not have been long—when quite suddenly, she felt a chill race up her spine. Instinctively her gaze lifted with a sweep in search of Ram.

She found him, twenty or so paces away, on the outskirts of the circle surrounding the dancing couples. His back was to her and he engaged a lady. Not just any lady, but one of the most beautiful women Joy had ever seen. She was laughing at something Ram said. Joy did not know how she knew, past the natural instincts given to females in all species, but she did; the woman either was his lover or had been at one time.

She watched as Ram led the lady through the doors of the balcony, and the world receded as a roar sounded, growing in her mind. The elderly Lady Byron grabbed her hand. "My darling," she asked, "what's wrong?" Then Joy looked up to discover she was just about to receive the unlikely attention of none other than the Prince Regent himself...

Held effortlessly in his arms, Joy bore the rush of hurried fare-thee-wells and regrets as best she could, aware only that Ram's limited civility was taxed to the extreme. Finally, mercifully, the doors opened and he carried her into the dark night of a thick London fog. The Barrington coach waited, with Lance tied in back. Ram wasted no time in bringing her there. With the solicited comments and concern of the footmen, the doors to the coach opened. He set her on the seat, called orders to the driver and climbed in, taking the opposite seat. The carriage lurched forward at the exact moment he demanded: "What the devil did you think you were doing alone with him?"

The last pronoun was drawled with a contempt that sent a wild tremor through her. Never had she seen him so furious! Nervously she twisted her gloves in her hand, not daring to look up to see the anger she felt as a tangible force. "I... I didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" he spat with barely contained disgust. "That the Prince Regent was trying to molest my wife?" '

She shook her head. "He asked me if I'd like to see the pictures in the gallery and, and ... I was so flattered ... I thought—"

"Flattered! What the hell did you think? That the Prince Regent was interested in cultivating your appreciation of art? God girl, you cannot be that naive!"

Yet, the tears forming in her eyes told him she was that naive. The fact somehow made it so much worse.

She had no defense but ignorance. The quaint and provincial society of Louisiana, to say the least, could not have prepared her for this. There, if a gentleman kissed a lady's fingertips, it was a source of gossip for weeks. If a chaste kiss was stolen in a garden, it meant an engagement to be announced the next day. There were no plots, intrigues, malicious intents; there were no affairs among married people, at least that she knew of.

What could she say? How could she explain what it felt like for her to have the attention of what was arguably the most powerful man in the world? As the great man engaged her with the most benign subjects, she had been thinking only of children. Thinking of Sean, their Sean, a little boy whom she loved with all the fierceness of her being, and with this new mother's love came the thought of other children; a thousand faceless children who, by any of fate's capricious turns, could have been Sean. Words had been forming in her mind; words to make this man understand he simply could not ignore the abandoned children swarming in London's streets, children so desperate that they were turning to pickpocketing and oh, so much worse, prostitution, in order to survive.

She had been in such a panic not to lose this opportunity, that no, she hadn't known his malicious purpose was seduction, until far too late.

Watching her closely, Ram demonstrated how very well he knew her with his next words. "Why, you little fool."

Joy's gaze shot up, lowered with pain.

"My God girl, did you truly imagine that man's attention had a whit to do with your damnable charms? The value of your social concerns? Let me make it perfectly clear Joy; that man's sole intent was to show me that while I won the war, he could still increase the casualty count by seducing my wife, which owing to the ludicrous extent of your naiveté, he very nearly did!"

The pain of it could not be borne. She felt his disgust and revulsion for her. A trembling hand covered her mouth, desperately attempting to stop the tears that already fell.

Ram encountered the pain in those eyes but briefly, before cursing softly. He tried but his gaze could not leave her—the misty enormous eyes, the tears falling over flushed cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her breasts barely contained in that gown—and when he felt his hands shake with the effort not to touch her, he knew he had reached the limits of his endurance. After one damn night, he was there.

Ram knocked twice on the wall. The carriage came to an abrupt halt. The door opened to a burst of chilly night air, and he left. Left her mercifully alone.

That night as she lay in the enormous feather bed, she felt, among a hundred other things, confused, terribly confused. Desperately her mind traveled again over the landscape of her short time with him, searching every dark and hidden recess for what had gone so terribly wrong.

She had first known his desire, so passionate and consuming! The slightest thought of it sent her heart and pulse racing, a blush she felt from the roots of her hair to the very tips of her toes, that sweet warmth sweeping through her limbs. Her dreams were spun from vivid memories of his kisses, the caress of his touch and his lips. Tonight was the first time his touch lingered since— since when?

Since soon after the birth of their son, she realized. Then, she had felt so utterly helpless, ridiculously vulnerable, yet he had matched those feelings with a tenderness and gentleness she could never forget. He had at all times been loving. Yes, he had loved her then! Love had shone in his gaze as he laughed and teased and comforted ...

Or had she been wrong, misled by what was happening to her? "God's curse is right Sean, I'll never forgive you the agony of it."

The words he had said to Sean that night on the beach came back to her, and with sudden sick panic, she saw not only that she was wrong but just how wrong she was. She never had his love! His kindness to her had been a natural response to her condition, for he had known then, the night Sean was born, that their marriage would be agony for him. He never wanted to marry her! He resented her that much for forcing him to marry her...

Distance, she saw with a pain filled, yet clear vision, had started to come on the voyage back, beginning with his politeness and solicitousness. Teasing stopped, as did the laughter so quick to spring between them. He began to be quick about leaving her company. The distance had grown and grown until tonight when she had embarrassed him in front of the worst possible person, and his response showed her what his resentment was becoming. Anger, animosity and—

The very next word her mind produced brought a pained gasp, the understanding of the darkness that was an unbearable future.

Little Sean fell asleep early after an exhausting day with his father, and as Joy lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts centered on her son. She should be getting dressed—the passing minutes vaguely pressed upon her consciousness—but her thoughts weighed heavily on

her, keeping her still. She thought of little Sean, of what he meant to her and what his one day's absence from her life had shown her.

Little Sean meant everything to her; she had nothing without him. Her day had been a blank page with nothing to fill it. She felt so strangely empty inside, sad and lonely…

She wanted to go home...

A light rap sounded on her door, an unknown voice called from behind, "Milady, his lordship awaits!" The footsteps retreated without waiting for a reply.

How was she going to face another night of being Lady Barrington? Throughout the initial whirl comprising her introduction to society, her only thought was to please him. The best response she could hope to solicit from him was indifference, indifference being only slightly less painful than his anger and resentment. Sometimes now, he resented her so much he could hardly bare to look at her...