The Wicked Game (A Wicked Game Novel) (16 page)

Mary. So Angela had been right, but that was not what was important right now. What exactly was Mary doing here? When Angela had first told him she had seen her beloved cousin and friend he automatically assumed that it had just been in her mind. Because of this Andrew had never stopped to ponder why, if Mary was here, exactly what the reason was. But she was here now and there was no more time to wonder why.

“What are you doing here?” Andrew asked very frankly.

“I thought I lived here,” was Angela’s sharp reply.

“Not you…” He directed his gaze at Mary. “
You
.”

“And how pleasant it is to see you too good cousin.” Mary crossed over the threshold and shoved Andrew out of her path. “Oh. I’m not assuming am I? You did wed my dear cousin when you took her away…did you not?”

Andrew felt a rage building up inside of him, layering on top of his anger. He was already having enough trouble with his wife. He most certainly did not need this attitude from his wife’s cousin.

“Of course I did you chit! What kind of…”

“Oh shut your mouth. I know very well that you are married…”

“Then why…”

This time it was Angela who interrupted him. “Andrew, Mary is not here for a casual social visit. She’s brought news.”

“And how does that concern me?”

With that Angela stormed towards her husband, took him by the arm, and pulled him aside.

“I know we just had a bit of a…
disagreement
earlier—”

“Disagreement?
Disagreement
? You—”

“Look here
dear
husband, Mary has come a long distance and at a great risk to bring you a message. I think you should listen to her and we can figure the rest of this out later.”

“Oh. Later. Of course. I’m sure that whatever message Mary has brought is much more important than—”

“Damn it all Andrew! They’re dead! The Earl of Dillard and his son!”

And with that statement, Andrew’s entire world stood still. He had never had a family of his own but he had spent his entire life living with the Dillards and they were as close as he had ever come to a family…until Angela. He felt a sharp pang inside. All within a matter of hours he had lost every bit of family he had ever known. Andrew stumbled to a chair near the bed and clumsily lowered himself into it.

“Dead. You’re sure now? How?” Andrew put his hand inside the collar of his shirt and pulled at it. The room had become suddenly hot.

Mary diverted her eyes downward. “Yes. I’m sure. A messenger came to the Baron’s home looking for you and Angela’s father sent him away. But I ran downstairs and intercepted the message.” She paused and cleared her throat. “There was a carriage accident.”

“I see. Is umm, is that all?” Andrew’s voice barely made it out of his throat.

“Lady Dillard requests your presence at the funeral.”

“What? Why?” This time no sound escaped his mouth.

Mary shrugged her shoulders as if the answer was obvious. “Well you did spend most of your life in their household did you not?”

Andrew shook his head.

“I suppose she felt that it’s… only right,” and then she added softly, “The message was quite…personal, as if she considered you family.”

“Family did she? Ha…” He put his head in his hands and ruffled his hair before looking up again. “But I suppose you’re right.”

Andrew rose and made his away across the room. “We will go. Wife?” He reached out his hand and Angela took hold.

What else could she do?

***

As they readied to leave the next morning words flowed from Andrew’s lips.

“You asked me once, why it is that I did not leave the Dillards when I had the chance.” He was sitting in his chair across the room from his wife, tall and straight, but he did not lift his eyes and grace her presence.

“If my mother had not done what she did I most likely would have been born on some dirty street corner. Probably spent the rest of my life in an orphanage—if I even lived that long. You know I thought about it a lot, had plenty of chances. I tried to leave, more than once. I made it off the property several times all set to take off, ready for my freedom. But I never made it far.”

“You were stopped?” She hadn’t meant to speak but it was too late now.

“Yes, by myself.”

He paused and she felt the tension of the air grow thicker as if a whole room of men were smoking big cigars. “I wasn’t watched or physically held. She probably would have freed me if I’d had the nerve to ask. I never did ask. But what I did do was think. Yes, I did a whole lot of that. But no. No matter how I thought about it, I just couldn’t wrap my brain around leaving.”

Another pause.

And then another as the energy grew.

“My mother gave her life for me!”

His voice was steadily growing stronger but with the last words there was a crack and they both winced, acknowledging the complication of its meaning.

“I couldn’t turn my back on her like that. Nor Lady Dillard. Free or not she had treated me better than I ever could have expected. Like family. Maybe I had never said it out loud but I bound myself to them and I did not take that lightly.”

With this he rose from his chair and crossed the room and Angela saw at once why he hadn’t wanted her to see his eyes. She had expected tears but to her surprise his eyes were dry. It was the emotion in them that caught her off guard; an overwhelming storm of feelings swimming around in a complexity that sent her mind and stomach into knots.

“I made an oath to you as well. Before God I said that I would protect you and stand by you through all times, good and bad. You made that oath too you know.”

He was breaking her and she tried to pull her eyes from him before the damage was complete but he grabbed her face and pulled her eyes back to meet his.

“I want you to look at me while I say this. As your husband, there are many things I can make you do, but I don’t suppose that loving me is one of them. If this is what we will be to each other then so be it but that does not change my oath or my desire to uphold it.”

Her bottom lip trembled and she bit it to keep from crying. Andrew noticed. “You, stop. You’re the one who brought this on. Don’t worry, I will not leave you.” He released his grip on his wife. “But right now you must leave me.”

So she turned without arguing and exited the room, leaving behind the only person who had ever truly known her.

Angela’s arms were clasped tightly around Andrew as she sat behind him on their horse. She had spent the first hour of the trip trying to find a way to keep steady without touching him, or at least without wrapping her arms completely around his body. That having failed, she had finally given in, pressed her body against his, and clasped her hands firmly across his chest. It wasn’t that
she
had a problem touching
him
. Truth be told his touch had always been a welcome gift to her and normally her touch was a welcome gift to him. But right now she was scared about what her touch would do.

Against her better judgment she gave in and squeezed him tighter, nestling her head deep within his shoulder. So far so good. She took one deep breath and let his very essence permeate her and fill her with excitement. Yes, this was how he got to her every single time. She wanted this feeling to last forever, but she knew, deep inside, that this was probably the last time they would be this way and it was all her fault.

She had led him on, made him think that she loved him when really she had just wanted him. It was her fault for what was happening. It was her fault that he loved her and that he thought that she loved him back. She felt absolutely insane thinking about it. She had just broken his heart, confessed that she didn’t love him as he loved her, and yet somehow he still got to her.

If she didn’t love him, why did her heart beat like a hummingbird every time she was near him? Right now all Angela wanted to do was to hold her husband, kiss him, tease him, take him, and make him hers… again and again. Yes they had argued, and yes she had told him that she didn’t love him, but she was his wife and he was in the midst of an emotional tragedy. It was her duty, her right even, to comfort him in his time of sorrow.

Wasn’t it?

And then it happened.

She felt him flinch.

Of course. She had expected it.

So why did it hurt her so much?

***

It was just after noon on the second day of riding that Andrew caught sight of the Dillard’s massive city manor. It had been years since he last set his eyes on it but he would have known it if he had been gone one hundred years. He would know it in his sleep. He would know it if he was blind. Inside that beautiful sprawling house Andrew had spent most of his life. Now that he thought about it, he had been born in that house.

There was a time he thought that he would die in that house.

To anyone else, returning to the place they had grown up in would be a beautiful, poignant, and nostalgic movement. Not for Andrew. He had been a servant in that home and not by any choice of his own. He should feel angry but he just couldn’t muster up that feeling. Despite the circumstances surrounding his service to the Dillards his life had been surprisingly decent. He wasn’t treated poorly, he wasn’t abused. In fact, there were times when he had even felt like a member of the family. But when he got right down to it he was
not
a member of the Dillard family. But he had always wanted to be…

So when he heard the message that Lady Dillard requested him at the funeral of her son and grandson, his heart dropped right out of his body. Perhaps now that time had passed and he was no longer a bond servant, the Dillards thought of him differently. Perhaps they had always thought of him that way but it just hadn’t been socially appropriate. Perhaps… yes, perhaps.

As Andrew directed the horse towards the stable he felt Angela shift uncomfortably behind him. She had been so quiet during the trip that he almost forgot she was there; but just almost. She was pressed up against him closely, her arms wrapped around him for support. He had spent the first day with a full body flush and the second day feeling sick from the ache in his heart. He wanted to push her away, make her get off the horse, and then ride off into the distance until he didn’t hurt anymore. But he couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that. As much as he hurt right now, not being with Angela would hurt even more.

But oh God in heaven, did he hurt right now.

Andrew slowed the horse to a stop inside the all too familiar stables, dismounted, and helped his wife down. She nodded her head in acknowledgement and didn’t make a sound as she demurely walked over to a bale of hay and took a seat. Andrew took a slow, deep breath and turned from his wife as he forcefully set his feelings aside. There was only enough room for one ache in his heart and right now it was reserved for the Dillards.

As he led the horse into an empty stable he stole a longing glance at Angela, beautiful, wonderful Angela, and sighed. Then he walked to her, and rigidly led her to the house.

***

He knew that they should use the front door. They were guests, invited by the lady of the house, but something about it just felt wrong. In all his years at this residence Andrew had never used the front door. He had been a servant after all. So as they got closer to the house Andrew felt his feet lead him in a different direction. Angela knew that he was heading towards the back door, the servant’s entrance, and she pulled back against him and gave him a dirty glance; still not uttering a word.

But before Andrew had a chance to argue with his wife he heard a familiar voice call to him from the front of the house.

“And where exactly do you think you’re going, sir?”

“I—umm—” And then he paused. “Nowhere.”

“Mmhmm. That’s what I thought. Now get yourself up here and introduce me to that gorgeous woman on your arm.”

Andrew lowered his head and a smirk spread across his face. “Of course ma’am.”

“Oh just get up here Andrew and no more of this ‘ma’am’! Lady Dillard is what I am to you.”

“Oh. I—of course.” Andrew was unsure what to say but a feeling of warmth started in his heart and spread through his entire body. Lady Dillard. How informal. How… wonderful.

Andrew nearly knocked Angela over as he pulled her to his side in front of Lady Dillard.

“This is my wife: Angela Bennett Wilson.”

Lady Dillard’s eyes widened. “So it is true. You ran off with the Baron’s daughter. How absolutely delicious!”

“Ha!” flew out of Angela’s mouth and then her hands went swiftly to her lips.

“No need to hide the laughter. I’m the one who said it after all!”

Lady Dillard reached out and took hold of both Andrew’s and Angela’s hands. “Well come inside already. It’s…” She hesitated for a moment and cleared her throat, obviously trying to hold back tears. “It’s almost time.”

And at this moment all the anger he had for his wife temporarily left him. All he could think of now were the Dillards, the closest thing to a family he had ever known.

***

At this moment, Angela was not sure how to act. As a wife she should be very supportive of her husband; comfort him, soothe him, and raise his spirits. But right now she was not sure if that was her place. They still hadn’t resolved their dispute and so Angela had no idea if she would be any comfort to Andrew. She gently placed her right hand upon his shoulder and squeezed but he pulled away and hurried a few steps in front of her. No, it appeared she couldn’t comfort him right now.

She clasped her hands in front of herself and walked demurely behind him. She looked to her right and caught her eyes with Lady Dillard. Angela had known her less than one minute but somehow she knew her intimately. This comforted her. She had always felt alone and misunderstood but right now she felt as if Lady Dillard identified with her. Had she experienced the same life as Angela? Was she still experiencing the same life as Angela? Perhaps that was the curse of the woman, to remain hidden under a veil of secrecy. She would have to talk to Lady Dillard alone very soon. But right now there was a funeral to attend and a marriage to repair.