Savage Destiny (The Hearts of Liberty Series, Book 1) (32 page)

"I know people can be cruel."

"Good, then you'll be prepared for whatever gossip will surely come. As for a christening, that's out of the question. The babe's a bastard, and no priest will welcome him."

"Melissa was a married woman, Byron, and a married woman's children are considered to be her husband's, are they not?"

"No one is ever going to believe that's Ian's child."

"The lace-trimmed christening gown your mother showed us before Christian was born has a matching cap. If he wears that, it will cover his hair, and if he's asleep, no one will see the color of his eyes. He's a very pretty child. That's all anyone will notice."

"You intend to lie to the priest?"

Alanna had not thought about the christening until now, and she needed a moment to perfect her plan. "No, it won't be necessary to say anything more than that we want Melissa's son baptized. The priest married her and Ian, and he'll assume this is Ian's child. We needn't disabuse him of the idea."

"No, I'll not stand for it. We have to tell everyone the truth—my parents and Ian, today."

"But Byron—"

"Yes, I know, they are already heartbroken, so how can I even suggest we add to their burden with the truth about the child? Look at it this way, they could not feel any worse, so there's no reason to delay revealing what we must. My sister died giving birth to an Indian's bastard. If that destroys anyone's love or respect for her, then so be it. As for the babe, I'm going to send for Hunter. If there's anything left of him after Ian and I get through with him, then he can take his son and go."

Alanna wrapped her arms more tightly around the tiny babe. "No! You'll not give Melissa's son to Indians to raise. How could you even make such a vile suggestion?"

"After what happened to your family, how can you want to raise an Indian's brat?"

"He's Melissa's child," Alanna repeated.

"A moment ago you were insisting that legally he's Ian's son. I think you're right. As Melissa's husband, the boy is his." Byron paused a long moment. "But Ian's so sick with grief, I'm not certain he'll even understand what we're saying when we try to tell him. It would be better for all concerned if we let everyone think Christian had died. There are childless couples who would adopt him. Perhaps Dr. Earle knows of a good family."

"Now who's sanctioning lies? How can you want to give away Melissa's son? I know she would have willingly raised
yours."

"My
son would have been white."

Alanna felt sick. "I won't let you give Christian away. I never intended to hide the truth from Ian indefinitely. He loved Melissa. He may find it in his heart to raise her son as though he were also his."

"I think he'd sooner kill himself."

"Then you can't tell him the truth tonight! One tragedy is more than enough for our family to bear."

"What do you call that brat in your arms, if he isn't an even greater tragedy than losing Melissa?"

Recoiling from his malicious tone, Alanna looked down at Christian, but she saw another baby boy with the same name and choked on her tears. "You didn't see what the Abenaki did to my baby brother, Byron. You didn't see how they killed him, or the others."

"Oh God, Alanna." Byron had never heard the manner of their deaths described, but he had been twelve years old when she had come to live with them, and his imagination had painted the horror she had witnessed in sickening detail. He slid off the bed and knelt beside the rocking chair. Alanna had seemed the strongest of them all since Melissa's death, but he now understood her love for the infant had inspired the bravery he had admired.

"That's not your little brother, Alanna. He's Ian's responsibility, or if he refuses him, Hunter's. He doesn't belong to you."

Alanna understood Byron's reasoning, but it didn't matter to her. She might not have given birth to Christian, but she loved him as a mother would. He was sound asleep, and she didn't object when Byron picked him up gently and placed him in the crib. He then gave her a hand and pulled her to her feet.

"Let's just go home. Neither of us feels up to handling this disgrace today. What we need is something to eat, and a good night's sleep. You and Elliott and I can decide which course to follow in the morning."

Alanna nodded, and Byron slipped his arm around her waist and led her into the front room. Charity had been seated, but she rose and hastily straightened the folds of her apron. She was attractive, but her mouth was set in a firm line that readily conveyed her lingering displeasure. Byron had to admire her pride, when her circumstances were obviously humble.

"I'm sorry if I seemed rude, Mrs. Wade, but burying my sister was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. Thank you for all you're doing for her son. If you need anything, for yourself, or your own children as well as Christian, be sure to let us know."

Surprised by that burst of generosity, Charity thanked him and hurried to fetch Alanna's cloak and helped her on with it. "Be careful on your way home. A wet road is a treacherous one."

"We're always careful," Alanna replied absently, but truly, the dangers of a slippery roadway were infinitesimal compared to the impossible situation in which Melissa had left them.

When they reached the carriage, Graham swung open the door. Alanna entered on her own, but Byron didn't want her to be alone with the English officer. "If you've no objection, I'll tie my horse to the back of the carriage and come with you," he said.

Knowing he had wasted his opportunity to impress Alanna on the way into town, Graham welcomed his company. "Please do," he replied, but he found the journey back to the plantation with two silent companions an equally difficult trip.

* * *

Hoping to avoid being overheard, Byron, Elliott, and Alanna met after breakfast the next morning in Byron's room. As the eldest, Byron considered it his duty to take charge of matters. "I won't pretend that I'm not disappointed in Melissa, because I am. She wasn't raised to behave in such an immoral manner, and her shame will undoubtedly taint the whole family. The question is how to minimize that damage."

"I disagree," Alanna was quick to interject. "The only question worth asking is what is to become of Christian?"

"Just hear me out," Byron asked. "I don't have the slightest doubt that Melissa loved Ian. Do either of you?"

"No," both Elliott and Alanna agreed.

"Fine, then what we've got to do is convince Ian to raise Melissa's son as his own. Perhaps he has relatives in England to whom he can send the child. Having never seen Melissa, they'll believe whatever they're told, and assume Christian resembles his mother."

"He does!"

"I certainly don't see it," Byron said, "but whether he does or not doesn't matter, as long as Ian's family believes that he does."

"And when he's grown?" Alanna inquired. "What if he comes to visit us? Will we tell him the truth then?"

"No, of course not," Byron declared.

Elliott was growing increasingly uneasy. "Ian isn't up yet this morning, but I doubt he'll feel any better than he did yesterday. How are we going to broach such a delicate subject with him?"

"I thought of little else all night," Byron admitted. "I think I should talk to him about the boy in general terms, and see if there is someone to whom he can entrust his care. Then, in a week or two, when he's used to the idea of raising Melissa's son, we can explain the truth, and ask him to accept Christian out of love for her."

"I don't think Ian should be misled another day," Alanna argued. "Melissa's affair with Hunter had to have been brief, and she married Ian so shortly thereafter, he was clearly her first choice."

"Wait a minute," Elliott cautioned. "Maybe we're all worrying over nothing. Ian might already know the truth. He and Melissa seemed so close. Isn't it possible that he's known all along that her child wasn't his?"

Byron dropped into a chair and stretched out his legs. "Is that possible, Alanna? Could Ian already know the secret we're all so afraid to reveal?"

Alanna needed only a moment's reflection before she shook her head. "No, I think that's too remote a possibility to consider."

They were all startled by a knock at the door, but Byron quickly recovered. He called out, and his mother peeked into his room. "What are you all doing in here?" she asked.

Rachel was dressed in black, and the stark contrast between her gown and her fair coloring heightened her prettiness. That Melissa had resembled her so closely now seemed an eerie coincidence. Byron rose to welcome her to his room. "We're all worried about Ian, Mother, but we didn't mean to neglect you."

"You haven't, and I'm glad you're all together, because I'm also frantic with worry over Ian. I've tried to lift his spirits by encouraging him to talk about his son, but he shows not even a glimmer of interest. It's as if the boy doesn't even exist!"

Alanna looked to Byron and Elliott, who seemed equally unable to respond.

Rachel noted their exchange of anxious glances, but misinterpreted the cause. "Yes, it upsets me, too, dears," she said. "I'm not certain we should trust him with the boy."

Elliott took his mother's arm and led her over to the bed. "Sit down a minute. We need your help." He glanced over his shoulder at Byron and Alanna. Both nodded, and he cleared his throat as he tried to find the words which he feared would break his mother's heart. Thinking such an unexpected truth ought to be delivered with care, he started and stopped several times, but finally revealed that her grandson was not Ian's after all, but the son of an Indian who had been a guest in their home for less than a week.

Devastated by the recounting of her daughter's indiscretion, Rachel's reaction was far worse than her sons had anticipated. She covered her mouth with her hand as though she feared becoming ill, and Elliott quickly sat down beside her and drew her into his arms. "He's still Melissa's baby, Mother. Try and think of him that way."

Rachel had already been pale, but now her skin lost even the hint of color. Several minutes elapsed before she was able to speak between choking sobs. "Send for your father," she ordered. "Do it now."

Fearing that they had made a very bad mess of an extremely difficult situation, Byron strode from the room, but soon reappeared with John, who had been working downstairs in his study. The strain of the last few days showed plainly in his face, and had aged him beyond his fifty-two years. Seeing his wife's obvious distress, he immediately went to her; Elliott stood up to make room for him.

"Oh John," she sobbed, "they're saying such dreadful things about Melissa. Make them stop."

"What's going on here?" John asked crossly. "Why have you upset your mother?"

This time Byron delivered the fateful news. His expression was solemn, his tone soft, his words as tactful as he could make them, but his father appeared to be no more inclined to believe him than his mother. "It's the truth, Father. I've seen the child."

John Barclay refused to accept the fact that his only daughter had flaunted the high moral values he had striven to instill in his children. He regarded the possibility that she could have lost her virtue to an Indian brave as gross and scandalous speculation. "It can't be true!" he cried out. "Melissa would never have stooped so low. She was a virtuous young woman, and I'll not allow any of you to say otherwise."

"But Father—" Byron began.

"Silence! Not another word is ever to be spoken against Melissa, and I absolutely forbid you to repeat that hideous tale to Ian." He helped his wife to her feet and, after casting angry glances at his sons and niece, escorted her from the room.

"Damn it all!" Byron swore. "How can he even imagine we'd fabricate such a disgusting story?"

Alanna recalled Hunter's eagerness for a message when she had interrupted his swim, and disagreed with Byron's choice of words. "I don't think love ought to be described as disgusting."

"It couldn't have been love."

Alanna inclined her head slightly. "I think Hunter really did love Melissa, but we'll never know whether or not she loved him."

"She couldn't have," Byron repeated. "She barely knew the man."

"No, Alanna's right," Elliott argued. "I'd rather think Melissa did love Hunter, no matter how briefly, than to believe that she slept with him simply out of curiosity or lust."

Thinking them both romantic fools, Byron just shook his head and left the room.

"It never even occurred to me that they wouldn't believe us," Elliott said. "What shall we do now? You heard what father said about telling Ian, and he's so upset with us, I don't want to cross him."

"We won't have to do anything," Alanna mused thoughtfully. "One day they'll visit Charity Wade's, and the truth of Christian's parentage will be impossible to ignore."

Too restless to sit down, Elliott began to pace in front of Alanna's chair. "I don't mean to embarrass you, so please forgive me if I do. I've just always assumed that my mother explained everything a young woman should know to you and Melissa. But is it possible that Melissa didn't understand the consequences of being with a man?"

Alanna knew precisely to what sort of a conversation with her aunt Elliott was referring. Rachel had been vague to the point of obscurity, but Polly McBride had answered Alanna's and Melissa's questions in a straightforward manner. "From what your mother told us, she seems to have little understanding of procreation, despite having had three children, but Polly made things clear. Melissa knew what she was doing. It might be comforting to believe that she was too innocent to understand, but that just wasn't the case. She was as sophisticated as she appeared."