Laina smiled as her brother wrapped his arms around her in a warm embrace. All evening she had seen flashes of the old Justin—the Justin she knew and loved. That horrid cold mask he had worn for so long was slipping and there were cracks in the wall he had erected around himself. Large cracks. But there was still a shadow of unhappiness in his eyes and she could sense tension in him. He hid it well, but it was there. She tightened her arms around his hard, muscular body and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
Justin smiled. “What was that for? The horse?”
“Well, I do love it, Justin. It’s exquisite. But, no.” Laina returned his smile. “The kiss was for you. I’ve missed you.” She studied his face. “I haven’t had a chance to ask. Are things better?”
Justin twisted his mouth into a wry smile. “Yes, they’re better—and worse. No!” He laughed and placed his finger gently across Laina’s lips when she started to speak. “I am not going to explain. You’re too curious by half.”
“It’s only because I love you.”
Laina put on her prettiest pout and looked, hopefully, up at Justin. He merely grinned. She tossed her head and stepped back from his embrace. “Oh, very well. I suppose it isn’t the best time, or circumstance, as I must return to my guests. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” She linked her arm through the judge’s and gave him a beguiling smile. “I’ll wheedle everything out of Judge after you’ve gone back to Philadelphia.”
Justin burst into laughter. “Laina, you have no shame. You haven’t grown up a bit.”
“Nor do I intend to.” She wrinkled her nose at her brother and laid her head on the judge’s shoulder. “I learn so much this way.”
“No doubt.” Justin chuckled and exchanged a look of loving male forbearance with the judge.
Laina flashed him a saucy smile. Things were better! She hadn’t been able to laugh and exchange teasing banter with her brother in months. She lifted her head and cast a slanted glance up at the dignified old man smiling fondly at them.
“Judge?” She crooned the respectful endearment and lifted her hand to rest lightly against his chest. “I want you to be a darling and learn every little detail about every little thing.” She tugged playfully at his cravat and gave him an exaggeratedly sweet smile. “Else, I’ll give you no peace.”
Justin hooted.
The judge dropped a fatherly kiss on Laina’s smooth forehead and shot Justin a look of indulgent resignation. Both men knew she spoke the truth.
Laina laughed, extricated herself from the judge’s arms and threw her brother a blatant look of victory.
Justin shook his head in fond exasperation and bent down to kiss her cheek. “I know when I’m beaten. It’s time to go.” He straightened and glanced at their old friend. “If you’re ready, Judge? Laina has guests to tend to, and I’m weary from my journey.”
Laina reached out and laid a detaining hand on her brother’s arm. “Justin, wait. I want you to carry a message to…to…”
“Elizabeth?”
“Yes. Elizabeth. Please tell her that I’m most eager for a chance to become acquainted with her. And that I hope we will become friends. All I remember of her is her soft husky voice as she spoke her vows. You whisked her away so quickly that day in March we didn’t have an opportunity to speak.” She gave him a wry look. “Not that I wanted to then. But now— Well, now, I feel badly about it.”
Justin dropped a kiss on top of his sister’s head. “You’ve no cause to feel badly, Laina. The circumstances of my marriage to Elizabeth were unusual at best.”
“I know.” Laina’s gaze dropped to her brother’s chest and she absently plucked a speck of lint from his coat. “But I did treat her, and you, shabbily that day, Justin. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to ask your forgiveness.”
“Laina! Is that why we’ve not heard from you? I wondered…” Justin lifted his hands to his sister’s shoulders. “You are welcome at Randolph Court anytime, you know that. My marriage to Elizabeth has not changed that. Why don’t you come to Philadelphia for a visit?”
“A visit? Now? Hardly.” Laina’s voice reflected horror at the suggestion. “One does not visit a new bride and groom before a suitable time has passed, Justin.”
He scowled and dropped his hands to his sides. “Laina, you know very well—” Her finger on his lips stopped the terse words.
“She is still a bride, Justin. And there is a time of adjustment necessary in any marriage. I meant only that. Nothing more.” She scanned her brother’s scowling face and gave him a roguish smile. “But it’s interesting that you react with such fervor.”
Justin made an inarticulate sound of frustrated male tolerance and headed for the door. Laina laughed. She grasped the judge’s arm, halting him in midstride as he started after her departing brother, stood on tiptoes and whispered in his ear. “So, Judge, you are a prophet. You were right in your assessment of Elizabeth’s character. And, best of all, my brother has fallen in love with his bride.”
“So it would seem.” The judge chuckled and placed his lips close to Laina’s ear. “I know of nothing outside of love that can make a patient man as touchy as a she bear with cubs.” He threw her a gleeful smile. “He’s absolutely miserable!”
Laina burst into laughter.
The judge winked, gave her a quick, affectionate hug and hurried after Justin, who was about to step outside.
Happiness bubbled up inside Laina. Elizabeth must be a lovely person or Justin’s mask would still be firmly in place. No one else had been able to dislodge it. She did a quick pirouette and turned to the mirror to check her appearance before returning to her guests. Her coiffure had become disarranged. She lifted her hand to smooth back a stray wisp of hair, then stopped and watched in the mirror as a man’s head appeared out of the shadow created by the stairs. He gave a furtive glance in her direction and slipped back into the darkened area. Laina spun about and marched to the stairs.
“Come out of there immediately!”
A man stepped out into the light and a shiver slid down Laina’s spine. She would have been hard put to explain why. There was simply something about him that made her skin crawl. “Is there something you require?”
“Yes. I was looking for your man.” He inclined his head. “I regret I must leave your delightful birthday celebration and I need my hat.”
“Well, you’ll not find your hat, or my man, lurking in the shadows.” Laina was unimpressed by the anger that flashed in the man’s small, black eyes at her sharp retort. She gave him look for look. “I shall send Beaumont to you immediately—I would not want to delay your departure.”
The insult was deliberate and the man’s face flushed angrily.
Laina gave him a last icy look of disdain and turned her back on him. The long skirt of her elegant, red satin gown whispered against the gleaming floor as she walked down the hallway and entered the ballroom. She would have Beaumont escort the man out the door himself. He looked sneaky. She didn’t trust him a fig’s worth! Who was he anyway? And what was he doing in her home?
Espying her butler carrying punch to an elderly widow, Laina lifted a lace-gloved hand and summoned him to her. She wanted that man out of her house—and she wanted him out now.
Reginald Burton-Smythe stared after Laina Brighton. How dare she speak to him as if he were some lowly flunky! No one talked to him that way. No one! He would— He would do nothing. Reginald took a firm hold on his temper. The insult was not of importance, now. Not in the light of his good fortune. He curled his straight, thin lips into a smile. He had been invited along tonight by Stanford Brighton to talk about an amalgamation of the warehouse properties they owned on South Street. Now it seemed he might need to maintain sole interest in his warehouse property after all. It was Ezra Frazier’s price for his daughter.
“Elizabeth.” Reginald’s pulse quickened. Was it possible? Could it be she? Stanford Brighton’s wife had said March—and it had been March when Elizabeth Frazier disappeared. What luck! All these months he had been searching without a clue. And now, because of a chance conversation…“Her soft husky voice.”
Reginald shook his head in amazement. All the money, time and effort he had spent searching for her and it had all come down to chance. Chance, and his own cleverness. If he hadn’t hidden himself away and eavesdropped on Laina Brighton’s conversation when he had heard her mention the name Elizabeth…
Reginald licked his lips and flexed his long, skinny fingers at the memory of Elizabeth’s soft, slender form. His breath came in quick, shallow drafts. If it hadn’t been for that uncle of hers he would have—
“Your hat, sir.”
Reginald started, grabbed his hat and followed the Brighton’s butler to the door. A thin film of moisture broke out on his face as he thought about the smooth, silky feel of Elizabeth’s flesh. His hands twitched. He stepped out into the warm night and closed his eyes to better picture the flawless perfection of her beauty. His shallow breathing grew ragged. Reluctantly, he dragged his mind away from the memory of that night in her father’s study, opened his eyes and walked down the marble steps. There would be another memory soon. And this time there would be no uncle to interfere.
“Ralston!” Reginald hurried toward his waiting carriage. “Take me home. And when we get there don’t unharness the horses. I’ve only to pick up a valise and we’ll be off to Philadelphia.” He yanked open the carriage door and climbed inside, then leaned forward and stuck his head back out the door. “And get some speed out of these nags!” He pulled his head back inside and closed the door.
The driver’s whip cracked. The carriage lurched forward. Reginald grabbed for the hold strap and lifted his thin lips in a smug smile. Ralston was afraid of him—he would waste no time. He knew he would be dismissed if he didn’t please him.
Reginald settled back in his seat, glanced out at the night and nodded with satisfaction. Fortune was indeed smiling on him. There was a full moon. They would be able to travel all night, and haste was most important. Not only because he had waited so long to possess what had been promised to him—but because he needed to reach Philadelphia before Elizabeth’s husband returned to complicate matters. It would be much easier to deal with the servants at—Where? A string of expletives poured from Reginald’s mouth. What was that name?
Randolph Court.
The name popped into his mind. Reginald smiled. That was it—Randolph Court. When they arrived in Philadelphia he had only to inquire as to its location and then he would have her. If, indeed, it was his Elizabeth that Justin Randolph had married.
Reginald scowled and pushed that thought away. He was unwilling to entertain the possibility that he might be chasing after the wrong woman. There were too many coincidences—the name, the distinctive voice, the hasty marriage that coincided with the time of her disappearance. He clenched his hands into fists. So Elizabeth had married to escape him. Had given the treasure he had been promised to another! She would pay for that. They would both pay for that.
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the Burton-Smythe mansion and Reginald threw open the door. He would have Justin Randolph killed. There were always cutthroats to be found in rough, waterfront grog shops who would do anything for a bit of gold. It wouldn’t be the first time he had made use of their services. He smiled grimly, climbed out of the carriage and ran up the stairs to the entrance door. He would make arrangements for Justin Randolph’s demise as soon as he had Elizabeth in his hands.
Reginald shouted orders concerning the packing of his valise to his butler, stalked to his library, slammed the door shut behind him, crossed to the fireplace and twisted a leaf in the ornate carving on the mantel. A small piece of paneling slid aside. He removed a locked box and carried it to his desk, then pulled a key from his waistcoat pocket and opened it. He gathered the small drawstring bags inside into his hands. They hit against one another with a muffled clunk. One of these would take care of Justin Randolph. As for Elizabeth…
Reginald closed his eyes and envisioned what he planned for Elizabeth. Lust surged and pulsed in him. For a moment he let it have its way, then, reluctantly, he forced the images aside and opened his eyes. He scribbled a note of instructions for his manager, snatched up the bank draft in the bottom of the box and started for the door shouting for his valise. His revenge upon Elizabeth would be personal—and it would not be quickly over. He intended to make her pay…and pay…and pay….
Reginald licked his lips, closed the library door, snatched his valise from his butler’s hand and rushed to the front door. One word kept repeating itself over and over in his mind as he climbed back into the carriage. Soon…soon…soon… He settled himself comfortably on the seat, leaned his head back, closed his eyes and gave himself over to his imaginings.
“A glass of wine, Justin? It might help you to relax.” The judge added the inducement as Justin turned from the window and shook his head.
Justin grimaced. “Am I that obvious?”
“I’m afraid so. At least to someone who knows you well.”
“Humph.”
The judge grinned at the disgusted sound that acknowledged the truth of his words. “What about the wine?”
“No. None for me, thank you.” Justin dropped into a chair and stretched his long, muscular legs out in front of him. “I’ve made such a mess of things, I shudder to think what damage I could do if I dulled my senses with wine.”
“You may be right.” The judge grinned as Justin threw him a dark look. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. Yes!” Justin surged to his feet, rubbed the tense muscles at the back of his neck and began pacing the room. “I don’t know, Judge. I doubt that talking about it will do any good. Words won’t change anything. But I’m so…so…”
“In love with your wife?”
Justin’s broad shoulders slumped in defeat. “Yes. That’s why I came to New York. Laina’s birthday was only a handy excuse. In truth—I simply had to get away.”
“Tension?”
Justin twisted his lips into a grim smile. “You might say that.” He walked over to the judge’s large mahogany desk, picked up a stick of sealing wax and slapped it against his palm with a soft splat…splat…splat. “It’s not only that, Judge. I’m not some callow youth. I can control my impulses.” He slanted a rueful glance at him. “Not that it’s easy.” He tossed the stick of wax onto the desk, raked his fingers through his hair and walked over to stare out a window at the moonlit night. “She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, Judge. But I can’t trust her.”
The judge winced at the raw agony in Justin’s voice. “It’s time you got over that, son. And I believe Elizabeth is the one that can help you to do just that. I see the hand of God in this marriage, Justin, and—”
“The hand of God!” Justin gave a short, hard bark of a laugh and spun about to face the elderly man. “The hand of God? You don’t know how funny that is, Judge.” He laughed bitterly. “I’m in love with a woman I have sworn not to touch. A woman to whom I have given my word that there will be no personal involvement between us. A woman that nearly swoons with fright every time I go near her. And you say you can see the hand of God in it!”
The judge fixed him with a level gaze. “I did not say I could not, also, see the hand of man in it, son.”
Justin’s scornful laughter died. For a moment he met the judge’s steady gaze, then, he drew air deep into his lungs and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Judge. I guess I’m not quite myself. This whole situation has me going in circles! I feel like a dog chasing his own tail.” He turned and pushed the casement open—he needed air. “Besides, you mistook my meaning. It’s not because of my experiences with Rebecca and Margaret that I cannot trust Elizabeth—at least not wholly. It’s because of her lies.”
“Lies?” The judge sat up straighter in his chair. “What lies?”
“Lies about money. What else?” Justin walked over and slumped down into the chair he had vacated earlier. He was weary of talking. What good would talking do?
The judge frowned. “What lies has she told you about money?”
Justin snapped his head erect at the judge’s tone. “She denies having any.” His voice was bitter. “We both know that’s impossible since the settlement was—”
“Settlement?”
“Yes, settlement. Financial agreement. Whatever you choose to call it. It’s still—”
“By jove!” The judge gave his thigh a resounding slap and jumped to his feet. “You haven’t read it.” He pointed an accusing finger at Justin’s chest. “Why not?”
“Because there was no need.” Justin felt himself flush as the judge fixed him with a disbelieving gaze. “All right. I burned it.” He muttered the admission under his breath.
“Burned it? Burned it! Without reading it?” The judge let out a hoot. “Oh, that’s rich.” He chortled with glee. “You are in a bad way, my boy.”
Justin stared sourly at his mentor. “Thank you so much for that piece of wisdom.”
The judge grinned. “Justin, my boy, you have tortured yourself needlessly.” He crossed to his desk, unlocked a drawer, took out a piece of paper, walked back and dropped it into Justin’s lap. “That’s my copy. Read it, Justin. There was no settlement.” He gazed down into Justin’s astonished eyes and his voice softened. “Go on, look at it, son. She refused the money.”
“Refused it?”
The judge nodded, then stood quietly by the chair and watched Justin scan the paper. He reached out and rested his hand on the young man’s shoulder when he saw the disbelief and bewilderment spread across his face. “She said she didn’t want to feel purchased, Justin. Said the gesture of good faith on your part was enough. She was never interested in your money.”
“Then why did she marry me?”
The judge shook his head at the frustrated roar. “The only one that knows the answer to that is Elizabeth, son. Why don’t you ask her?”
Justin stared up at him, then, suddenly, threw down the paper, surged to his feet and strode to the window. “I’m a fool.”
The words were soft and bitter. The judge studied him for a moment, then shook his head. “You’ve been telling yourself that for quite some time now, Justin. It’s time you stopped.” His voice sharpened. “Get on with your life, son!”
“My life. What life?” Justin spun to face the quiet, dignified old gentleman. “Don’t you see it’s worse than ever now. At least before I could tell myself she was a greedy little liar like the others, but now…” He clenched his hands into fists and fought back the anguish in his voice. “Now, I have no weapon with which to fight my love for her.”
“Then why fight it?”
Justin sucked in his breath. “Haven’t you been listening? I gave my word not to touch her. Would you have me break my word?” He gave him a sour smile. “You wrote up the papers. She could have the law on me were I to do so.”
The judge sat down and placed his elbows on the padded arms of his favorite chair. He folded his hands, made a steeple of his index fingers and looked up at Justin over the top of them. “A word of legal advice, my boy. You won’t break your word, or the contract, if the decision to make the marriage a real one is mutual.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Justin, lad, you don’t need to touch the lady to make her fall in love with you.”
A light of hope kindled in Justin—then quickly dimmed. His lips tightened. “You don’t understand, Judge. For some reason Elizabeth is terrified of me. What I said before is the literal truth, she has swooned in fear at my most innocent touch.”
“Swooned?”
“Yes.”
Justin walked over and dropped into the chair opposite the judge.
“Why?”
Justin shrugged. “She denies knowing any reason for such a thing. And I certainly don’t know, unless—”
The judge’s gaze sharpened. “Unless what?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Justin closed his eyes and rubbed the tension from his temples with the tips of his long fingers. “I can’t think of anything I’ve done to provoke such a reaction, so I’ve wondered if perhaps it could be from something that happened to her before I knew her.” He opened his eyes and looked across at the elderly man.
“She swooned in the carriage soon after we left the Haversham Coach House the night we were married. I thought she was simply tired and had fallen asleep, but when we arrived at the inn I couldn’t rouse her.” He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the plaster ceiling. “Dr. Allen was there simply by happenstance and he examined Elizabeth. She was badly bruised—by a man. The marks of his hands were on her arms.”
Justin’s voice shook with anger, the nerve along his jaw began to twitch. He looked down at his clenched fists and opened them. “The doctor said an experience like that could leave a bruise on one’s soul. So, when she continued to swoon, and I could think of no other reason, I thought perhaps…I don’t know…perhaps whatever had happened to her might have something to do with it.”
The judge’s eyes narrowed. Slowly, he nodded. “You may be right, son. I remember how frightened and tense Elizabeth was when I interviewed her. What did the doctor say?”
“That Elizabeth had been physically abused and was emotionally and mentally exhausted. He advised rest and patience.” Justin closed his eyes. He was too tired to talk further.
The judge tapped his steepled fingers gently against his pursed lips and stared off into the distance. After a short time he dropped his hands and fixed his gaze on his young friend. “Do you want to end this sham of a marriage, Justin? Do you want Elizabeth as your true wife?”
Justin opened his eyes, tipped his head forward to give the judge a long look, then slumped back and closed them again. “More than anything in the world.”
“Very well…” The judge rose to his feet and crossed to the table by the window. He picked up the well-worn Bible that rested there, walked back to Justin and placed it in his lap. “If you meant what you said, son, the answer is in there. First John, chapter four, verse eighteen.” He laid his hand briefly on Justin’s shoulder, then turned and left the room.
Justin stared after the judge for a long moment, then dropped his gaze to the Bible that rested in his lap. His face tightened. He picked up the Bible, placed it on the table beside the chair and walked to the window. The beauty of the moonlit night only served to heighten his misery. He closed the casement, snuffed the candles in the sconce on the wall, then moved to the candle on the table beside the chair and reached to do the same. His gaze fell on the Bible and he paused. He looked at his hand, poised to extinguish the light and scowled. What if the judge was right? What if the answer was there? What if God, by some miracle, was able to make something beautiful and real out of the hopeless mess he had created? God’s hand—or man’s hand? He had never thought of it in those terms before. Which did he want?
The stillness of the night seemed to close in around him as the bitter disappointments of the past warred with his longings for the future. He was achingly, acutely aware that he had a choice to make—and that the choice he made would affect not only his future, but the future of those he loved as well. Elizabeth, Sarah and little Mary would all be touched by it. He closed his eyes in an agony of indecision. He had believed once. But then Rebecca and Margaret—
Man’s hand! Man’s hand! Man’s hand! The words rang in his spirit. Justin’s eyes burned with tears as he faced the truth. He had blamed God for what had been done by man. For what he, himself, had a part in. And he had denied the truth in order to soothe his pride.
“Oh, God, forgive me!” Justin fell to his knees in front of the table and covered his face with his trembling hands. “Forgive me, Lord. Please, forgive me.” His desperate words scraped their way out of his aching, constricted throat. “I was wrong. I know I was wrong. Please help me to find my way back to You, Lord. Please help me. I choose Your hand.”
The terrible shame and sorrow that had flooded his heart was replaced by a sense of peace. For a long while Justin stayed on his knees receiving and basking in the forgiving, healing love of his Heavenly Father. When he finally rose to his feet, he reached for the Bible. For the truth he had rejected. His hand trembled as he turned the pages. “First John…First John, four…” He trailed his finger down the page until he found the verse he was seeking. “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear….” He read it again, then straightened and closed the Bible. “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear…”
Fear. Elizabeth’s fear. His fear. For the first time, Justin admitted to himself that it had been fear, not anger, that had driven him to seek a marriage of convenience. Oh, the anger and bitterness had been real enough, but they were rooted in his fear of being hurt again. Suddenly everything seemed so clear. He sat down and thought about the past and the present in the light of that new knowledge. At last he rose, snuffed out the candle and made his way to the bedroom that was set aside for his use whenever he was in New York. He needed to sleep. It was a long, hard ride to Philadelphia and he would be leaving at first light. His heart gave a little skip of excitement—with God’s help he was going home to win Elizabeth’s heart.