The Matchmaker (16 page)

This time Julia's smile held a touch of genuine amuse
ment. To the young, most things were simple; Lissa was
still very young even if she was maturing rapidly, and her uncomplicated solution seemed a reasonable enough one to her. "Honey, Adrian has a political career to think
of, and scandals mean ruin. He wouldn't allow me to
leave him."

"You could just—just leave.
While he was gone during the day.
He couldn't stop you."

"And go where?" Julia shook her head slightly. "I have
no money of my own, and I couldn't ask any of our
acquaintances for help, even if they were willing.
Which
they wouldn't be.
Lissa, both society and the law
consider a wife the property of her husband. How he
chooses to treat her is his business, and no one has the
right to interfere. There have even been cases where a
man killed his wife, admitted it, and was found innocent
of any crime because the jury believed he had just
cause."

Lissa was clearly appalled. "You aren't serious?"

"Entirely."
Julia had read of more than one such case in newspapers, and in a law book in Adrian's study—
where she had gone to find out what her realistic chances
for a divorce might be. What she had found had given her no hope at all.

"What did the jury consider just
cause
?" Lissa wanted
to know.

"In the cases I read about, infidelity."

"Men have mistresses, and wives are expected to accept it. What's the difference?"

Julia had thought about it, and her reply was dry.
"Men make the laws."

"Something should be done about that," Lissa exclaimed, outraged.

"A number of women are trying. A constitutional amendment granting the vote to women has been put
before Congress during every session since 1878. Unless
and until it passes into law, women have no voice in
determining other laws."

"I should have paid more attention in school," Lissa said, then ruthlessly got the subject back on track. "But
Julia, do you mean to say that if a woman was being hurt
by her
husband,
neither the police nor any of her friends could help her?"

"Legally, they haven't the right. And there are social
beliefs, first, that what goes on between husband and
wife is a private matter and, second, that the woman is to
blame."

"To blame?
For being hurt?"

"For angering her husband."
Julia shrugged a little tiredly. "Never mind that it isn't rational. Some realities of life aren't; you'd better accept it. The point is no one would dare to interfere."

"I know someone who would.
Someone who doesn't
give a fig about the law or society.
Someone you could go
to for help." Lissa looked a bit startled and puzzled. "How strange I feel so sure of what I'm saying—but I
do."

"Lissa—"

"Cyrus Fortune, Julia. He could—" She broke off
abruptly, staring at her sister.

Julia knew she had reacted visibly to the name, and though she struggled desperately for control, she could
feel her face burning. Between the past interludes with Cyrus, his insistence that she leave Adrian, and her own
shameless thoughts and feelings of late, she was unable to hide the response. It was so ironic. Lissa had named
the one man she believed could be trusted—and he was the very man who had tried every form of persuasion short of blackmail or physical force to induce Julia to
have an affair with him.

"Julia.
.."

A bit disjointedly, Julia said, "You must have taken leave of your senses, Lissa. Mr. Fortune has the worst
reputation with married women of any man in Rich
mond. And he has no use for runaway wives; he certainly
wouldn't be pleased to find one on his hands. A man like
him wouldn't want to be bothered with messy
problems—"

"Julia, are you in love with him?"

A shaky laugh escaped Julia, and she thought with
utter detachment that it had finally happened. She'd
finally crossed the line into madness. Nothing else could
feel this way. The unexpected conversation with Lissa had added to the tension inside her, until she wanted to cry out, or burst into tears or hysterical laughter— anything to relieve the awful pressure. She was out of
control, dreadfully rudderless like the boat that had
taken her parents' lives, and the sensation was terrifying.
She didn't know how much more she could bear.

"Love?"
She was unaware of the bitter cynicism in her
voice. "No, I'm not in love with him. That wonderful feeling you've described is something I don't believe in.
Not for me, not anymore." Trying to stop her naked
flood of words, she clamped her teeth together so hard her jaw ached.

"I—I'm sorry, I just thought the way you looked for a moment.
.."
Lissa didn't know what to say, and she was frightened. She had never seen her sister anything
but calm. Now Julia's face was paper-white and there
was a wild look of despair in her glittering green eyes that made Lissa
want
to cry. "We'll find a way for you to be free, Julia. There has to be a way."

After a long, still moment, Julia put her sewing aside and rose to her feet.
In a flat voice, as if nothing unusual had been discussed between them, she said, "I don't feel like having lunch today.
I think I'll take the buggy out
and deliver the things for Mrs. King's thrift sale."

"I'll come with you."

"No. I need to be alone for a while." Julia walked out
of the room. She put on her hat automatically and ordered a horse hitched to her buggy, the box of
secondhand goods for the thrift sale loaded. She drove her buggy through the streets a few minutes later in the same numb state. No one seemed to notice anything peculiar about her, and her errand was completed within a half hour.

But Julia didn't return to the house. Instead, she
drove out of the city. She wasn't aware of choosing a
particular direction, and paid no attention to her sur
roundings.

Ever since the conversation with Lissa had begun, she had known time was running out. Lissa was an honest
girl not accustomed to hiding what she felt; with the best
intentions to keep her promise, she still would be unable to hide her changed attitude from Adrian. He might not
notice immediately since he was so preoccupied these
days, but he would eventually.

Being Adrian, he would believe two things. He would
believe Julia had confided in her sister about his treat
ment of her, and he would believe Lissa wouldn't remain
quiet about it.

Julia didn't know what to do. Adrian had always held
the threat of hurting Lissa over her head, and he was
entirely capable of carrying out the threat. If he became
enraged enough—and fearing his public mask had been
destroyed or damaged beyond repair would certainly
enrage him—then he'd stop at nothing.

She drove on through the early afternoon, barely
aware of the scorching heat and blind to the dark gray
clouds rolling heavily toward her.

It was after two when Lissa stood at the end of the walkway and looked anxiously up and down the street.
The sun still beat mercilessly down on the pavement,
but thunder rumbled in the grim storm clouds that were
approaching steadily and the few people on the streets
were hurrying to reach their destinations. Lissa was worried about Julia; she should have been home long
ago, and with the storm coming...

When she saw Cyrus coming toward her, the relief she felt was almost staggering. She had trusted him from the first moment she had looked into his strange black eyes,
and no matter what Julia said, Lissa knew instinctively
that he could—he would—help her sister.

"Lissa?
What's wrong? Where's Julia?"

Lissa found neither the familiarity nor the abrupt
questions surprising, and it never occurred to her not to
tell him. As soon as he was close enough, she reached
out to him, catching his sleeve with unsteady fingers,
and felt immediately reassured when his big hand
covered them gently.

"Julia went out in the buggy; she should have been
home ages ago. With the storm coming—and since
Helen disappeared the way she did—I'm worried. Even
if nothing has happened to her, Julia was so upset.
.."

"Why was she upset?" Cyrus asked quietly, his gaze
intent on her upturned face.

"It was my fault. I was asking her about Adrian and
their marriage. She didn't want to talk about it, but I
kept pushing."

Cyrus's long fingers tightened over hers, and something as dangerous as a naked blade flashed in the dark
sheen of his eyes. "Has he been hurting her again?"

Lissa blinked in surprise, but once more, she found
nothing strange in the question or in his knowledge.
"I—I don't think so. Not recently. She hasn't stayed in
bed all day since before our party. And he's been so busy
he's hardly been home at all. I told her she should leave him."

"And she refused," Cyrus said flatly.

"She's afraid.'' Lissa had been thinking of nothing else
since Julia had left, and she felt cold now despite the
burning heat of the sun. What she had seen in her
sister's eyes had convinced her more completely than words ever could have that the man she had believed to
be so wonderful was in fact a monster. "She told me
about cases where a man had killed his wife, and nobody
thought he'd done anything wrong. I didn't understand
at first, but I think she knows he'd... he'd kill her
before he let her leave him."

Cyrus looked at her for a moment,
then
said quietly,
"That is not going to happen. Lissa, I want you to go into
the house and pack a few things for yourself and Julia. As soon as I bring her back, you're both coming with me."

To Lissa, his words brought only relief. She was
nodding with unquestioning acceptance even as she
said, "Adrian usually gets home around four."

"He won't today. I've sent him halfway across the state
to a political meeting. He shouldn't get back here before
midnight, if then."

"You sent him?"

"I'll explain later. Right now I have to find Julia before
this storm hits. Don't worry if we aren't back when it
does; we'll take shelter and wait it out. You just be ready
to leave the moment we return."

"All right.
You won't let him hurt Julia?"

"No. I'll take care of you both."

"I'm going to marry Mark," she said, because it was
somehow important to her that he know that.

"Of course you are," Cyrus said calmly, patting her hand.
"After you finish school."

Lissa couldn't help smiling, but all she said was "The storm's coming; you'd better hurry." Then she released
his sleeve and turned back toward the house, feeling an absolute faith and trust in him so strong that for a very
long time she wouldn't even ask herself where her certainty had come from.

Julia might not have noticed the approaching storm at all
if her horse hadn't shied nervously as a tangle of dry
brush blew across the road in front of him. She steadied him, surprised to realize a strong, hot wind was blowing all around her, rustling through parched leaves and grasses. Becoming fully aware of her surroundings, she saw the angry dark clouds blot out the sun to produce an eerie twilight, and heard a low grumble of thunder.

She was a long way from the city.

The road wasn't particularly wide, but there was no
side road she could see in which to turn around. She had
no choice but to turn in the too-small space. Her skittish
horse fought the reins, growing more nervous with every
passing second. She was on the point of getting out of the buggy and leading him when the sense of someone
approaching rather than the sounds made her look over
her shoulder.

She felt absolutely no surprise at seeing Cyrus. He
was riding a big Roman-nosed gray that looked powerful
enough to carry even its large rider mile after mile, and
both the man and horse seemed impervious to the approaching storm.

Cyrus rode directly to her horse's head and leaned
down to grasp the reins, quieting the agitated animal
seemingly by his touch alone rather than by force. Looking back at Julia and raising his voice to be heard over the wind, he said, "We have to take shelter. Hold on."

Julia wouldn't have been foolish enough to argue with
him even if she hadn't felt a peculiar sense of destiny. As
he led her horse along the road away from Richmond,
she realized where—without being the least aware of her
destination—she'd been headed.