Tender savage (55 page)

Viper waited until their son was four days old before he went to Erica's bedroom. Mark had begun spending most of his time there seated at his wife's bedside patiently waiting for her to awaken and ask for him. He was in his own room for his afternoon rest, though, and with the whole house quiet. Viper decided it was the perfect time to pay Erica a call.

After he had calmed down sufficiently to think more clearly, it had occurred to him that it was just possible Erica had not known who had fathered her child. That she had gone so suddenly from being his wife to Mark's had not been her choice, he reminded himself, but his. He decided if she had merely been uncertain about the babe's father, there was nothing to forgive. If, on the other hand, she had deliberately failed to tell him the baby was his, he had no idea what he would do. The very thought of that deception made his ruse to conceal his identity seem a child's prank by comparison.

Viper had not been in Erica's room since the morning he had delivered their child. To dispel the atmosphere of a sickroom, Mrs. Ferguson had flung the windows wide open to let in the breeze, and the bright summer sunlight I made the soft rose color of the room as pretty as a young I girl's blush. Sarah had picked several colorful bouquets 1 from the garden, and the blossoms lent a delightful fragrance to the air. The brave had come to demand answers from his wife, but the tranquillity that engulfed him as he entered her room made the idea of starting any conflict seem ill-advised.

Erica had been bathed each day and clothed in a clean nightgown, but Viper was shocked to find her skin as pale as the white lace garment she wore. The linens on the four-poster bed were also so daizzling white that her blond hair shone like silver where it fell upon her pillow. As he sat down on the side of the bed, he thought more than ever that she was as lovely as a princess, but he doubted her heart was as pure as her sparkling appearance made it seem.

Shaking her shoulder lightly. Viper called her name, "Erica, wake up. You've slept long enough." When that effort failed to wake her, he took her right hand and brought it to his lips. Her skin was cool and soft. Even sound asleep, the sight of her stirred his blood. Refusing to allow her beauty to affect him. Viper gathered his resolve and grew increasingly insistent, until at last Erica's eyes fluttered open, and their vibrant blue provided a distraction too compelling to ignore.

At first Erica saw only the man she loved and a pretty smile brightened the pale contours of her face. Then she noticed the stern set of his features and knew she had no

reason to smile. She tried to pull her hand from his but lacked the strength to do so.

"We have only a few minutes," Viper cautioned, ignoring her attempts to escape his touch. "We must make the most of them. Did you truly think the child was Mark's? Is that why you did not tell me he was mine?" When Erica's eyes instantly flooded with huge tears, Viper had his answer without needing to hear it in words. "Why? Why did you want to keep such a secret from me? If you love me as you say you do, why did you treat me that way?"

Although Viper was furious with her, Erica saw only his pain, and felt it as deeply as her own. "I knew if I told you," she began hesitantly, "you'd make me leave with you, and I can't abandon Mark when he's as helpless as a child. I told you that before. I'm married to him, so it makes no difference what I feel for you. I can't leave him."

"Do you even want to?" Viper asked pointedly, still torn between wringing her neck and kissing her until she finally understood she belonged to him. When she did no more than stare up at him with a tear-blurred gaze, he started to rise.

"No, please don't go," Erica begged softly.

Before Viper could respond, Sarah peeked into the room. Seeing him there, she came in and locked the door behind her so they would not be disturbed. "If you're up to speaking with him. Erica, then you can't refuse to talk with me."

When Erica turned to Viper with a questioning glance, he moved over slightly to make himself appear even more at home on her bed. "As you can see, Sarah is anxious to talk with us. Have you seen the baby?"

"Well, no, not yet, but—"

"You needn't apolo^ze," Viper assured her, more for Sarah's benefit than Erica's. "You've given me a fine son, but now that everyone knows who I am, Sarah thinks I am no longer welcome here."

Erica had been so certain the child would be a boy, she wasn't at all surprised to hear that news. She vaguely recalled f)eople coming in and out of her room, disturbing her rest, but none of their conversation. Maybe others had tried to tell her the child was a boy, but she didn't remember. My memory is getting as bad as Mark's, she thought to herself, but she still felt so tired she found it

difficult to think, and she decided it was no wonder her memories weren't clear.

"The boy looks like you?" she managed to ask Viper.

"The baby looks more like him than he does," Sarah replied before Viper could. "I've told everyone you're not up to having visitors, which is true, but I can't keep our friends away forever. Then there's the matter of the christening. What are you going to call the child? My brother is your husband. The babe's name will be Randall, but he certainly doesn't look like one of us, and when words of that gets around, the gossip will never cease."

As Erica listened to Sarah's complaints, she didn't hear anything she hadn't thought of herself. "I'm sorry," was all she could think to say.

"You're not half as sorry as I am," Sarah replied. "Thank God, Mark doesn't suspect anything is wrong, but we'll have to be careful some tool doesn't ask him why his son looks nothing like either of you. Maybe we can say the child is sickly, then send him away to school. As for Etienne, I told him he would have to go, but he refuses to listen to me, so you'll have to be the one to send him away. The sooner you do it, the better off we'll all be."

While Erica could understand Sarah's anger, since she had had plenty of time to anticipate it, she couldn't agree to her demands. "I don't know what to do, Sarah. I want to do what's best for Mark, but that's so awfully hard on the rest of us."

Viper couldn't abide being left out of the conversation as though he weren't even there, and he gave his own opinion then. "If I am the only one who cares more about my son than Mark, then I will take the babe and go. I will not have to apologize for him. I am very proud of him."

More relieved than she cared to admit, Sarah immediately agreed. "That's the perfect solution. I don't know why I (Sdn't think of it myself. Give him the child. Erica. Tell him to take him home to Minnesota or wherever he wants to go. Many couples lose their first baby, and we'll just say the boy didn't survive. You and Mark are bound to have more children."

Erica was so appalled by that ghastly suggestion that she clung to Viper's arm and pulled herself up into a sitting position. "Get out of my roomi" she screamed at

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Sarah. "I'll not send my baby away just to please you. How could you even suggest such an awful thing? Children can't be replaced, and when Mark is like a child himself, how can you imagine I would want to have a child with him?"

Sarah realized instantly she had said too much, but quickly tried to smooth things over. "I am not the one who suggested Etienne take the child, he did. If you insist upon raismg the boy, maybe we can tell people you adopted him. We can decide what to do about the baby later. Right now I want you to tell Etienne to go. That's something you simply can't delay."

Erica was still shaking with anger, but she wouldn't give in to Sarah's badgering. "No," she cried again and again. "Nol Nol" She felt the same sense of hopeless rage she had felt when Viper had been condemned to death, and she only knew that she would not send him away.

Realizing the fragile beauty was now hysterical and knowing that couldn't possibly be good for her. Viper wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tighdy. He then looked up at Sarah with a malevolent gaze. "I think you're the one who ought to get out; now go. We'll get along here fine without you."

Sarah opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. There was no point in warning the Indian about what she intended to do. Even if she had failed to make Erica do the right thing, she knew Lars would. She would leave for Washington that very day, and she was certain once Lars knew his daughter planned to continue living with her Indian lover in his house, he would come straight home and put an immediate stop to it.

"All right, I'll go. In fact, I'll be happy to leave, but you've not heard the last of this, Indian. You can be certain of diat."

Viper didn't think Sarah's threat serious enough to merit a reply. After she had stormed out of the room he remained seated on the bed, rocking Erica gently in his arms until she again fell into an exhausted sleep. How had she managed to bewitch him again? he askecf himself in amazement, but he was so happy she had refused to send him away that he vowed no one would ever part them again.

In early July, the Union Army finally handed the Confederates a crushing defeat at Gettysburg. When the Southerners began their retreat, their wagon train, filled with more than twenty thousand wounded men, had extended for seventeen miles. At the same time, Union forces under General Grant had won control of Mississippi, after reducing the city of Vicksburg to ruins and the population to near starvation with a six-week sie^. On July 8, General Banks captured Port Hudson, Louisiana, which lay to the south and had served as a vital source of food and supplies for the Confederacy. After those impressive victories, the mood in Washington was one of elation. As before, the hospitals were flooded with casualties, but men wounded when the tide of the war was turning their way had far higher morale than those who had taken not only a physical beating, but a psychological battering, as well, when things had been going poorly for the Union.

Encouraged by the northern army's victories, Lars hoped the war would soon end. He wanted nothing more than to see peace arrive, rather than ambulances bearing young men with badly mangled bodies. He thought often of how wonderful it would fc to return home and practice medicine again in a tranquil community where gruesome injuries would be a rare exception, rather than the rule.

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Much to his dismay, he also found his thoughts frequently filled with memories of his brief encounter with Sarah Randall. He knew he had behaved like a frightened schoolboy in leaving Wilmington without making the effort to see her again. He was not only embarrassed but ashamed of his conduct, where she was concerned. He feared once he returned home that she would go out of her way to avoid him. He wouldn't blame her if she did, but the fact that his daughter was married to her brother would make that effort damn awkward for them all. She was a sweet and sympathetic young woman, but he had simply not known now to respond to her affection. So he had behaved like a jackass and undoubtedly hurt her feelings badly, which was something no gentleman would have done, and he could not forgive himself for it and doubted she ever would.

Feeling as he did, he was quite naturally taken aback when he saw Sarah enter the hospital one afternoon during the first week of August. In sharp contrast to the stark hospital decor, she was beautifully dressed in a fashionable summer gown woven of threads of yellow and pink cotton, which created the shade of a rose-tinged sunset, and a straw hat adorned with silk daisies. He was so certain the attractive young woman had come to visit a patient that he dared not approach her until he heard her speak his name at the desk. Trying to appear far more confident than he felt, he quickly went to her side, but he couldn't keep himself from grinning like a fool, he was so happy to have a chance to make up for the abysmal way he had treated her.

"Miss Randall, how lovely you look. It's so nice to see you again. What news can you give me of my daughter and grandson? Dexter's wire told me little other than that I was a grandfather. What about Mark, is he still getting along well?"

Now that she was there, Sarah found it difficult to look at Lars without recalling how they had parted. She had been so excited by his kiss that she had not dreamed he would return to Washington without wanting another. She had not forgotten that hurt, but the pain she had suffered then was a very private one, and not nearly so acute as that caused by her distress over Erica's continued

affair with her Indian.

"They are all fine," she responded evasively, "but there is something we must discuss, privately, if we may." She glanced toward the woman behind the desk, who was listening attentively to their conversation, and hopjed Lars would understand that she did not wish to talk with him there where they could be overheard.

Disappointed that Sarah had not seemed nearly so glad to see him as he was to see her, Lars decided her cool aloofness was what he deserved. Assuming a far more professional manner, he took her arm. "I'm afraid my office is even more cluttered than when you last saw it, but it is private." He escorted her there, offered her a chair, then took the one at his desk for himself and swung it around to face her."I can't promise we won't be interrupted, but I'll give you all the time I can," he offered generously.

"Thank you, I appreciate that. I know how busy you are, and I wouldn't have come here if I had had anywhere else to turn, but I thought you'd want to know what's been happening at home."

Lars frowned apprehensively. "Is it Mark? Are you concerned about him?"

Sarah shook her head. Concentrating upon the ivory fan clasped tightly in her hands rather than the deep blue of Lars's eyes, she began to pour out her story in so emotional a fashion that she was swiftly reduced to tears. She got through it, though, every shocking, shameful, scandalous bit of it, then slumped back in her chair. "So you see, you really must come home and make Etienne leave before he and Erica disgrace us any further."

Lars was so stunned by Sarah's tale that it took him a full minute to gather his wits to reply, but his reaction was not the explosive one she had expected. In the years following her mother's death, he had neglected his daughter shamefully, and he knew the overwhelming sense of betrayal he felt now was a direct result of the fact that he and Erica were no longer as close as they had once been. He could not help but think that if anyone were to blame for the heartache Sarah had just confided in him, it was he.