Tender savage (59 page)

"I will try," Mark agreed, "but you must promise me something."

"If I can," Viper replied cautiously, for he would not help Mark take his own life. It was not simply out of fear that he would be accused of murder, either. It was simply a secret he did not want to have to keep from Erica.

"I want you to look after Erica, as well as the baby. Will you do that? I had other friends, but they are in the army still. They could not be here when she needed them."

"I will be happy to help your wife in any way I can. Now I think we should go see if dinner is ready." Viper got to his feet, then gave Mark a hand. "Let us take each day as it comes and not worry so about tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, Etienne. I don't want to be a burden to you, too."

Viper grabbed Mark in a boisterous hug. "You are no burden, you are my best friend."

"Yes, we are best friends, aren't we?" Mark slipped his

arm around Viper's waist as they walked toward the house. "I'm a very ludcy man, aren't I? I have a beautiful wife, a fine son, and a best friend."

"Yes," Viper agreed. "We are both very lucky men."

As Erica watched the two men approach the house, she could not help but wonder at the cause of their high spirits. At least Mark seemed to be feeling well that day, but she was still quite worried about him. During dinner they continued to plan for the christening, and the next day it went as beautifully as she had hop>ed it would. Mark's christening gown fit Stephen perfectly, while the matching lace cap concealed his dark hair so the priest offered no comment on his coloring. The babe looked like a cherub and giggled happily through the brief ceremony. The photographer Sarah had found took photographs of them all in every jx)ssible combination, and, certain they would never forget so marvelous a day, Erica again looked forward to spending the night in Viper's arms.

By the time Viper turned the page of his calendar to September, an x marked nearly every day. Mark had never again spoken of death, and the brave hoped he had forgotten their conversation had ever taken place. It was not a subject he and Erica ever discussed, either, although he could sense it was on her mind as well as his, and yet when one afternoon Mark failed to awaken from his nap. Viper could not believe death had taken the young man so soon.

Knowing he would have to break the sad news to Erica, the Indian got as far as the stairs, but overcome with sorrow, he sat down on the top step, put his head in his hands, and wept, for truly he had lost one of the best friends he had ever had. When she found him still seated there crying. Erica did not have to ask what had happened. She put her arms around Vi|>er and held him tight, loving him all the more for having loved Mark, too.

Lars arrived at the church just as the funeral service began. He had not expected so many fleople to attend, but the old stone building was filled with his family's friends, as well as Mark's. That pleased him enormously, for he had hoped the young man had not been forgotten during his lengthy convalescence. He knew where Erica would be seated, and hurried down the aisle, anxious to join her. When he found Viper already seated by his daughter's side, he slid into their pew beside Sarah and took her hand as he tried to offer a comforting smile.

Although he knew the truth about Erica and the Indian, Lars had not expected the man to flaunt their relationship in public. Knowing this was neither the time nor the place to air such feelings, he put them aside as the service began and thought instead only of Mark, and of what a fine man he had been. When the Indian joined him as a pall bearer, he recognized the dove-gray suit he wore as having been one of Mark's favorites, and he looked away quickly, wondering what more he had helped himself to now that Mark was no longer alive to object.

The day was warm and sunny, the weather perfect for a last picnic before the fall arrived, but most of those gathered at the graveside were too filled with sorrow to think the lovely day wasted in mourning as Mark was laid to rest in a grave beside his parents. One by one his friends said their own good-byes, departed, and met again at the

Hanson home, where they offered what comfort they could to the grieving family.

Margaret Denenberg had been hired to care for the baby, as Erica had not wanted to subject a child barely two months old to such a crush of people. She went upstairs often to check on Stephen and proudly displayed the photographs from the christening to all who asked about the babe. Mark was holding Stephen in each of the portraits, his smile wide as he cuddled his son, and that was the way she wished to remember him. It had been Viper who had insisted upon preparing Mark's body for burial, and when he had wanted to bury his friend in his captain's uniform she had readily agreed, since he had looked so very handsome in it. It was a strange sensation to bury one husband with the help of another, but Erica found Viper's generous sympathy a source of great comfort and strength.

Each person who came to the Hanson home arrived with baked goods or other food, and with refreshments so plentiful, the visits grew lengthy. It was nearly midnight when the last of their friends finally said goodnight. After closing the front door behind them, Lars returned to the parlor and offered to escort Sarah home.

"Thank you, but Erica suggested I stay here tonight, and I've accepted her invitation, since I'm really too ured to go home." She smiled as she gestured invitingly. "Please come and sit down with us. I haven't had a chance to talk with you all day." She hoped the fact that she had felt neglectea wasn't too obvious. When Lars had sat down next to her at the church, she had hoped he would remain with her all day, but he had been so attentive a host to all their guests that he had given her little more than an occasional smile. That wasn't nearly enough to please her.

Lars had been prepared for anything from screaming accusations that he should have been able to save Mark's life to hysterical tears that the young man had died needlessly in a senseless war, but Sarah had displayed an admirable calm all day. That she had accepted her brother's death without casting blame on him or anyone else was a tremendous relief to him. Happy for an excuse to sit down, he quickly took the chair beside hers, then picked up the photograph that had been left on the end

table nearby. "I think it's wonderful you had these photographs made." That the Indian was in most of them, again dressed in the gray suit, had startled him at first, but he had had sufficient time to get over that shock by now. "When do I get to see my grandson?"

Erica covered a wide yawn before she apologized, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to bring him downstairs, but I should have taken you up to my room. He's sleeping too soundly to disturb now, but he'll be up before you are in the morning, so you'll have plenty of time to spend with him tomorrow."

"I'll try and stay a few days, at least," Lars said regretfully. "I need to get back to Washington as quickly as I can, though."

Viper was standing by the fireplace, his pose relaxed even though his mood was not. He had waited all day for Lars to ask to speak with him alone, but other than sending him frequent glances, which he had interpreted as being disapproving, if not openly hostile, the man had avoided him. If an cmgry confrontation were unavoidable between them, he was anxious to get it over with that very night. When Lars continued to exclude him from his conversation with the two young women. Viper went over to the settee, sat down beside Erica, and taking her hand, laced her fingers with his.

"The last time you were here, you were far more polite to me than you have been today. Dr. Hanson. If you plan to ignore me on this trip, what will you do on the next?"

Surprised that the Indian would be so direct, when he knew him to prefer subterfuge, Lars stalled for time by putting the photograph aside before turning to face him. It was difficult to reconcile what he knew the young man to be with what he saw, but he had to admit the rogue played a gentleman very convincingly. Attempting to display the same level of gentlemanly conduct in a sincere manner, Lars learned forward slightly, trying to make his comments sound like helpful suggestions rather than harsh demands. ^

"Please forgive me if I seemed rude. It was unintentional. I don't even know what to call you," he began with a disarming smile. "Since Etienne Bouchard isn't your real name, what would you rather I use?"

Viper recognized Lars's chaitning grin for the attempt to win his confidence it obviously was, but he wasn't fooled. White men smiled often, but their actions were anything but pleasant. Grateful Erica had kept still, he gave her fingers a loving squeeze before he responded to her father's question. "I have no choice but to use that name a while longer. Please call me Etienne."

Lars nodded, disappointed, but not surprised the Indian had not chosen to confide in him. "All right, Etienne it is, then. You were living here as Mark's companion. Now that those duties have sadly come to an end, you'll have to leave before anyone becomes suspicious of your relationship with my daughter."

"Daddy 1" Erica was too tired to leap from her chair or she would have done so. "It was Mark's feelings we wished to protect, not my reputation. Etienne is my husband, and rifnot hide that fact a minute longer. When your letters were so wonderfully sympathetic to our plight, why have you had this sudden change of heart?"

Lars swept that compliment aside as no longer pertinent. "Erica, when you have so recently been widowed, you can scarcely introduce Etienne as your husband. Widows are expected to observe a year of mourning before they remarry. I can't believe you could have forgotten something so important as that."

Outraged by the absurdity of that comment. Erica did attempt to rise this time, but Viper refused to release her hamd. Her new black dress was made of a crisp taffeta that rustled noisily as she was drawn back into her seat.

Viper responded before his wife could catch her breath to speak. "This conversation is pointless," he announced firmly. "Erica is no longer a daughter who must be obedient to her father's wishes. She is a wife and mother who can think for herself." He rose and with a graceful bow took Erica's hands and drew her to her feet. "We will be proud to show off our son in the morning. Until then, goodnight."

Erica was astonished that Viper had not said she was a wife who had to be obedient to her husband's wishes. Grateful for that generosity, she did not argue with his decision to bid Sarah and her father goodnight. She paused briefly to kiss her father's cheek and then Sarah's

before leaving the parlor on her husband's arm. Anxious to talk, she hurried him up the stairs, for it seemed their lives were never going to run smoothly and she wanted to have a plan ready to present to her father in the morning.

Left alone with Lars, Sarah found herself in an extremely awkward position. She didn't want to speak her mind and jeopardize her chances to win Lars's love when he had given her reason to hope he might soon declare it. On the other hand, after all the compassion Erica and Etienne had shown her brother, she felt she owed them her loyalty.

Disgusted with himself for allowing Etienne to escort his daughter from the room and undoubtedly right into his bed, Lars frowned sullenly. He berated himself for not having foreseen how little the wily devil would care for his daughter's reputation. To make matters worse, it seemed clear Erica didn't care about it, either.

"Lars," Sarah began hesitantly, hoping to ease his mind.

Embarrassed by how easily the Indian had gotten the better of him, Lars apologized immediately, "I'm sorry, Sarah. This is my problem and I shouldn't have subjected you to it."

Swallowing hard to gather her courage, Sarah continued in a breathless rush. "When I was so worried about appearances, you convinced me they didn't matter nearly as much as Mark's happiness. Isn't that true still? Aren't Erica's and Etienne's feelings more important than the opinions of people who might be tempted to gossip about them?"

The expression in Sarah's luminous brown eyes was so serious that Lars knew his reply was important to her, and he chose his words with care. "Of course, I care more about my family than busybodies. I've already admitted that I handled the matter badly just now. I should have been smart enough to speak with Erica privately before I asked Etienne to leave. Etienne!" he exclaimed sarcastically. "Do you realize we don't even know the man's name?"

"That is disconcerting, I'll agree, but—"

"But what?" Lars interrupted abruptly. He was puzzled by her reluctance to lend her support to his cause. "I didn't forbid Erica to see Etienne. All I said was the man should

live elsewhere. Since this is my home, I am well within my rights to make such a request"

Sarah was as conscious of offending Lars as he was of disappointing her, but she simply couldn't bring herself to a^ee with him. "Etienne is the father of Erica's child. Telling him to live somewhere else won't change that. Perhaps you should let them make their own decisions atx>ut where they wish to live."

While Sarah's gaze was now concentrated uix>n her tightly clasped hands rather than on him, Lars could see she was as upset as he. He didn't understand why, though. "I'd say I have had no choice but to allow them to make their own decisions all along. Etienne didn't come to me to ask for Erica's hand in marriage. He simply announced she was his wifel Perhaps it is a bit late to msist he follow our society's rules, but I think I should at least make that attempt. I would be a poor excuse for a father if I didn't."

Sarah was silent for a long moment, and when she returned to look at Lars, her manner was touchingly bashful. "I know only too well the heartache of loving a man I can seldom see. I would not wish that loneliness upon anyone. Won't you reconsider your decision to ask Erica and Etienne to live apart? When they love each other so, I think it would be very cruel to separate them."

Her inquistive gaze swept Lars's expression as she searched for a flicker of emotion that would betray the love she hoped he felt for her. She had waited patiently for his infrequent letters to become passionate pledges of love, but sadly, his brief messages had conveyea no more than a friendly warmth. This was the first time they had been alone all day, yet he had made no attempt to kiss her. Seated beside him, the excitement his presence always brought filled her with desire. The obvious fact that he no longer seemed to feel that same magical attraction brought tears to her eyes. Embarrassed, she brushed them away.