Each Time We Love (47 page)

Savanna made a polite rejoinder, but her thoughts weren't on
Betsey—at least not on Betsey's words. At the sound of the young
woman's voice, she had received an unpleasant jolt, and in her memory
something vaguely stirred, a flashing fragment that was gone as soon as
it had appeared. Only half listening to Betsey's conversation, Savanna
frowned. Now, what was it? Why couldn't she remember?

Betsey kept her visit short. She had come mainly to spy out
the territory, and on the one hand she was pleased that Savanna's
memory seemed to be faulty, but on the other, she was furious to see
how little damage the fall had caused. Of course, the fact that Savanna
had lost the baby was wonderful, but still!

Drifting away from Savanna, her stylish gown of pale green
jaconet muslin floating daintily above the floor, Betsey reached out
and laid her slim white hand on Adam's arm, where he still stood by the
door. The sight of that little hand reaching out had a startling effect
on Savanna. Memory, sharp and vivid, erupted in her brain, and as if it
had just happened, she could feel the savage impact of those two little
hands on her back.

Savanna jerked upright and in tones of incredulous fury she
exclaimed, "You pushed me! I didn't fall. You
pushed
me!"

Betsey stiffened, her green eyes meeting Adam's kindling blue
gaze for a split second. Spinning around to look at Savanna, she asked
with credible innocence, "Whatever are you talking about, my dear?"

Her voice shaking with suppressed rage, Savanna snarled, "I'm
talking about yesterday afternoon, when you pushed me down the stairs.
I remember it all. I didn't faint and I didn't fall—you came up and
pushed me!"

Betsey flashed a sorrowful look at Adam's suddenly rigid face.
"Oh, my dear, I am so sorry! You didn't tell me that she was not in her
right mind. How sad for you!"

"I'm not crazy!" Savanna said, struggling to stand upright. "I
just didn't remember until I heard your voice and saw your hand on
Adam's arm, and then it all came rushing back to me. You deliberately
pushed me down the stairs—you killed my baby and tried to kill me!"

A swift glance at Adam's white-lipped, frozen face told Betsey
that she would find no help from that quarter, and giving a nervous
titter, she edged closer to the door. "Well, I won't argue with you, my
dear, but I'm afraid that your memory is faulty. What possible reason
could
I
have for doing such a horrid thing?"

In a cold, inimical tone, Adam said slowly, "I think I can
answer that—you hoped that with Savanna out of the way I would return
to you."

"My dear,
dear
Adam," Betsey said
lightly, "aren't you being just the tiniest bit conceited? As if I
would do such a thing merely to fix a man's interest! Have you
forgotten that I am on my way to visit with a gentleman I will very
likely marry? Believe me, I found you very attractive, but—" She
laughed deprecatingly. "Darling, our time together was heavenly, but it
is over and no one is happier than I that it is so. How can you even
conceive
that I would do such a dreadful thing?" An ominous silence greeted her
words. "Well!" she uttered in an offended accent. "I can see that you
don't believe me! And to think I only came to call out of kindness!
It's obvious that there is no talking to either of you! If you will
excuse me, I will be on my way!"

"Not so fast," Adam snapped, catching her arm in a brutal
grip. "Do you really believe that I shall allow you to harm my wife and
child and escape unscathed?"

Nothing had gone precisely as she had planned, and Betsey lost
her temper. "How dare you!" she exclaimed furiously. "I don't give a
damn what you believe!" From the icily wrathful expression on Adam's
face, it was obvious that she had lost the gamble. "You can't
prove
anything!" she hissed. "It's my word against hers, and everybody knows
that she suffered a knock on the head. Are you so certain that she is
telling the truth?" Adam's features remained implacable and Betsey
could have screamed with frustration. A sneer on her lovely face, she
added, "How I ever thought that I wanted to marry such an overbearing
brute like you is beyond me! Let me go!"

Adam's hand tightened savagely on Betsey's arm, a fierce
desire for revenge clawing through him. "I ought to break your neck,"
he snarled softly, the look on his handsome face murderous, and for one
dangerous moment the outcome hung in the balance. With a tremendous
effort of will, Adam reined in his blazing fury. Killing Betsey wasn't
the answer. It would give him great satisfaction to strangle her with
his bare hands, but his pleasure would be over in an instant. No. She
had to pay for what she had done, in such a way that she would live and
go on paying for years to come. Taking a deep breath, he contemptuously
flung her arm aside. "You're not worth it! I'll not hang for your
death! But hear me well, Betsey, for I'm not through with you." He
smiled, a terrifyingly cruel smile, and murmured almost gently, "No,
I'm not through with you yet, my dear, but when I am, perhaps you'll
wish I
had
broken your neck!"

Betsey grasped the crystal knob, and opening the door, her
green eyes flashing with hatred, she glared at him and spat venomously,
"I'll make you sorry for this, Adam St. Clair! You see if I don't!"

The door slammed shut behind her and Adam turned to Savanna,
who was standing, strained and pale, next to the sofa.
"Dios!
What an
awful
woman!" Savanna said with loathing.
"I should like nothing better than to drop her in an alligator hole,
but I am very glad that you did not strangle her." She sent him a shaky
smile. "I would not like for you to hang either!"

With swift strides Adam crossed the room to fold her into his
arms. "Sweetheart! I'm sorry that you had to endure that ugly scene."
His mouth twisted. "Sorrier than you know that it was because of me
that you had to suffer."

Her head pressed against his shoulder, she murmured, "It
wasn't your fault, Adam. You could not have known. She must be mad!"

"Mad and vicious!" Adam said grimly. Aware that the scene had
taken more out of Savanna than she had realized, he picked her up and
carried her to the bedchamber. Smiling down at her, he said lightly,
"The physician said that you were to rest, and I think that whether you
like it or not, the best place for you right now is bed."

Savanna didn't argue. She was suddenly shockingly tired, and
while she had wanted to be up such a short while ago, the thought of
her bed didn't seem as undesirable as it had previously.

Adam made an excellent ladies' maid, deftly whisking the gown
from her body and instantly sliding a soft, delicately embroidered
shift of finest lawn over her. He settled her into the bed and after
plumping the pillows behind her back, he surveyed her closely. There
were purple circles beneath her eyes and a hollowness about her cheeks
that he did not like, but considering the narrowness of her escape, he
was not displeased.

Lounging at the side of the bed, he took one of her hands in
his and murmured, "As soon as we can, I think we should return to Campo
de Verde. You will feel better in your old home with your mother
nearby." His face twisted. "I should never have brought you to New
Orleans—not only is it the worst time of year, but our paths would not
have crossed with the Ashers!"

There was a heavy silence, the terrible loss Betsey had caused
them in both of their minds. Adam roused himself first and forced a
light note into his voice. "I waited until you had awakened this
morning before I wrote to your mother. While you slept today, I sent
off a message to her, explaining everything, and though I reassured her
that you were recovering, she will be anxiously awaiting our arrival."

Savanna smiled faintly. "She will cosset me to death!"

"Naturally!" He cast her a considering look.
"I
think it is just what you need right now. Go to sleep, sweetheart. I
shall just be in the other room, so call out if there is anything that
you need."

With a docility which would normally have been foreign to her,
Savanna nodded, and before Adam had even reached the doorway that
separated the two rooms, her eyes had closed and she was sleeping
dreamlessly.

For Adam there was no such escape, and he spent the next
several hours restlessly pacing the confines of the sitting room, his
mind tortured by how easily he could have lost Savanna. It did not help
his frame of mind, either, to know that he had been, albeit
unknowingly, the direct cause of what had happened. Because of his
meaningless affair with Betsey, his wife had nearly died and their
child had been destroyed. His fists clenched impotently at his sides.
The cost be damned! He
should
have broken
Betsey's neck when he'd had the chance!

But despite his black, bitter mood, despite even the hungry
desire for revenge that clawed and twisted in his gut, there were more
mundane things to distract him, and eventually, a snifter of brandy in
front of him, he sat down and began composing the various letters
necessary to inform his family of not only his marriage but also the
tragedy that had struck. In the letter to his parents, he stated only
the bald facts, promising to write more soon. The letter to Jason and
Catherine, however, revealed not only how desperately he loved Savanna,
but also his terrible guilt and grief over the loss of the child. In
neither letter did he mention Betsey's part in the tragedy—he wanted no
sane counsel, no coolly reasoned arguments, no interference when the
time came to take his revenge…

INTENT
ON HIS OWN PLANS FOR VENGEANCE, the one thing that
never occurred to Adam was that
Betsey
would
strike out at him! Hurrying along the corridor to her own rooms, green
eyes glittering with rage, Betsey had her head full of decidedly
nefarious plans for revenge against Adam.
How dare he!
she thought furiously as she stormed into her room, slamming the door
shut behind her. The very idea! It was bad enough that he'd married
that common little slut, but to have believed Savanna's story over hers
and to have actually
threatened
her!
Well!

Having heard her angry return, Charles wandered into Betsey's
room through their connecting doorway, and surveying the damage she was
wreaking upon anything that crossed her path, he saw that his sister
was thoroughly enraged. He had been highly annoyed yesterday when she
confessed to what she had done, but he hadn't been surprised—Betsey
could never bear to be thwarted. His main worry was that there might be
unpleasant repercussions, and when Betsey had insisted upon visiting
the St.

Clairs this afternoon to survey the situation, he had been
adamantly against it. They'd had a terrible argument, but he had been
unable to sway her from her decision and, short of locking her in her
room until they left tomorrow morning, there was nothing he could do.
Many times, Charles found it easier to let Betsey have her way, and
this had been one of them. The fact that she had returned so furious
meant that her winning little ploys hadn't fooled anyone, or something
infinitely worse—exposure. Betsey's exposure was the last thing he
wanted. Charles wasn't overly worried; it would be Betsey's word
against Savanna's in any case, and he very much doubted that Adam or
Savanna was going to wash their linen in public.