With One Look (33 page)

"You know, Jade, at first I didn't blame you. I blamed Tessie, and while you were lying unconscious upstairs, I had Tessie by the shoulders, shaking her, so furious that I almost struck her.... I almost struck Tessie, whom we love."And Tessie never did say anything; she was more than willing to let me blame her. It was little Matthew who finally blurted that she begged you not to climb that ladder, that Tessie followed you up only because she couldn't stop you."

A fire fueled his anger; Victor felt the full force of his fury and ignoring her muffled sobs buried in Wolf Dog's fur, he drained his glass and poured another. But he ended up slamming it to the table. In a single sweep, he stood over the bed, lifting her tear-filled face with a harsh hand.

"Tell me, Jade, did it ever occur to you that it might be stupid for a blind person to climb into a child's tree house to enjoy the view? Did you ever once think of our child you carried! And, damn you, Jade, do you have any idea what it felt like to see you lying on the ground, unconscious and already bleeding! And you want me to give you another chance?"

Victor released her harshly. Trying to control himself enough to pronounce the final verdict, he turned from the sight of her. "No, Jade, I won't give you another chance. It's bad enough waiting for your accidents. I'll be damned if I'm going to wait for a child's as well. You're not going to have any children."

"I won't accept that...."

Victor barely heard her response, but it was enough for him to swing back around and lift her completely from the bed. "What did you say to me?"

"I won't do it! You can't make me! If ... if you don't want me to bear a child then you better find another ... another—"

"Woman to share my bed," he finished for her. He stared at her long and hard, unmoved by her tears, her slender frame trembling in his wrath. "Is that what you want, Jade?"

"I'll never, never rid myself ... kill our child." "Don't you understand? You already have."

There came a stunned moment of silence before she swung her hand to land a hard slap on the face she could not see. If Victor had not stopped his reflexes he would have blocked her swing and broken her arm, and Wolf Dog, standing on all fours and ready, would have attacked. As it was, the feel of her small hand striking his face shocked him with the realization of how much he wanted to hurt her. He wanted to hurt the woman who was more precious to him than life itself.

How long before this anger and resentment destroyed them and the love they shared? "Jade, I—"

She quickly pulled away from the hands reaching for her. "Don't touch me," she whispered, her face marred by pain. "Leave me . . . just leave me! You've hurt me enough."

Silence.

The door slammed. With that sound, something died inside her.

The music was loud, the smoke thick. Sebastian watched Victor, sitting across the table from him. The cards kept falling in Victor's favor, but he showed no reaction. There hadn't been any emotion for some time now.

Victor had thrown himself into work, pushed his men unnecessarily hard and himself even harder. In an effort to escape, he rose before dawn, spent each daylight hour in heavy, backbreaking physical labor only to bury himself in a paperwork at night until he finally collapsed into a short, dreamless sleep. For a while he met success; his labors prevented thoughts of Jade Terese, and more important, they blocked any consideration of their future.

Victor motioned to the barmaid for another drink. He was drinking heavily. The cards kept gracing him, the stakes became outrageously high, and still he felt bored to the point of distraction. He was well on his way to intoxication when a servant arrived with a message.

There is someone here to speak to you. Important.

Marie Saint

Victor did not hesitate. The thought of seeing Marie felt instantly agreeable. It suddenly seemed Marie was exactly who he wanted to see; he could talk to Marie, and she, wiser, possessing that uncanny feminine intuition, would understand, perhaps even help him sort through his raging feelings.

He motioned to a servant to bring his mount around front while he played out his last hand.

After asking Sebastian to see to his winnings, he bid the gentlemen good-night and left.

With concern in his bright blue eyes, Sebastian watched Victor leave. If anyone could help, it was Marie. The passage of time had made his friend's pain worse, ever increasingly so, and with each day of Victor's absence, Jade Terese became more despondent. She valiantly tried to hide it, tried to keep her head up and maintain some semblance of a normal life, but everyone was concerned, worried. ...

Mercedes more than any other.

Victor rode into the small courtyard, dismounted, and tied the reins, experiencing a fleeting sense of apprehension from the unusual air about the familiar house. Marie's house was normally lit like a tree at Michaelmas and an endless stream of visitors arrived at all hours, while sounds of music and merriment poured from the house to the street. Yet tonight her house sat in quiet darkness. No one—in fact, nothing—seemed to stir inside.

A man answered the door. Having thought Marie had only women for house servants, Victor felt momentarily taken aback by the unusually tall Negro standing in the doorway. Bald and dressed in an odd, brightly colored tunic and loose pants, the man's dark liquid eyes appraised Victor, but with a smile. He then bowed slightly and said in flawless English, "Monsieur Nolte, you are welcome."

Marie had evidently dismissed both her woman and servants alike. Victor slipped into the normally crowded entrance hall, but it, too, was empty and dark. Three glowing candles threw dim light and shadows into the space. The man led him down a corridor into the back of the house. He swung open a door and left without a word or sound, retreating with a quiet grace remarkable in one his size.

Victor's gaze adjusted to the dim light. Three more white candles sat in front of a glass, making them six. A large gold cross hung over the display. He smiled at Marie's pretense of magic. Then he saw her, sitting quietly on a sofa. Her trance was broken by his appearance and she rose,

approached him, and the way time stopped as she came into his arms, one might have thought they were still lovers.

He suddenly felt a moment's fear, startled by the sheer force of sensuality radiating from her. She wore the simplest gown of cream-colored muslin; the loose folds completely concealed the voluptuous curves of her tall figure. Her long dark hair, too, tied in a tight knot on her head, accented the beauty of her exotic features. A small ruby hung from her neck, that was all.

It had been his present long ago.

The moment he took Marie in an embrace, lifted her face for a kiss, something inside him broke. The barriers he had so carefully constructed around himself shattered, and his vulnerability became painfully apparent. They said not a word as he held her tightly, savoring the comfort and warmth she afforded him.

Moments later, Victor found himself stretched out on the sofa in the darkened room, his head on Marie's lap, while he bared his soul to his friend. Occasionally, his troubled thoughts sent him jumping up, pacing the floor, but Marie's gentle words calmed his fury, eased his tension, and he returned, starting a new train of thought.

Marie had no qualms about deceiving Victor. It was, she knew, the only way, and so she listened to his struggle, and with an open heart provided what comfort she could, all the while waiting for signs that the potent tea had started to take effect. Most men would have slipped into a deep unconsciousness long ago, especially after so much liquor, but Victor was an exercise in masculine perfection. For a while, his strength managed to offset the potion.

With anyone else, Marie knew, it would have been much easier. The woman would have simply bonded to a willing person and spoken her message through the borrowed body. Yet Victor! He would reject such an event without consideration. And he must be made to hear the message with an open mind! It held the essential key to his future happiness, to the very life of the lovely Jade Terese.

His words finally began to slow. Staring up at the dark ceiling, he whispered, "God, Marie, I love that girl so much.... If only ... there was a way ..." He must have drunk a good deal more than he remembered, for the ceiling seemed to rotate lazily.

"I will tell you something, mon amour," Marie began seriously, softly. "The part of Jade Terese you cannot accept is the very same part that captured your heart so completely. Jade Terese

possesses the most beautiful and innocent of spirits. Yes, it forced her to close her eyes, but it also makes her embrace the world with an abundance of joy and life."

Marie's reply felt important, but for the life of him, he could not comprehend the words. The room began spinning faster; at a point it almost spun to a far recess in his mind, then it turned back, slowing somewhat. He tried to lift himself up but his body felt like dead weight. He fell back to the sofa.

"It was the only way she could come to you, mon amour. Rest now and let your mind

drift."

"Marie ... I—" His mouth was dry, his throat parched, and words wouldn't form. Realizing

he had no choice, his last completely conscious thought was to trust Marie and let this—whatever it was—happen.

He could not say for certain he had fallen asleep. Memories emerged in his mind's eye, some dating as far back as his boyhood in Virginia, and some leading him far into the future. Some images spun crisp and clear, some foggy and uncertain, while some became so startlingly vivid that they might have been real.

He woke suddenly in his bedchamber. He was lying on his bed. He watched Jade emerge from the dressing room. She was searching for something, looking at once confused and frightened. He tried to go to her but he could not move. She walked toward the door but spotted the looking glass, and while her back was to him, he watched her reflection in the glass.

She saw her reflection in the mirror.

His heart started pounding. She was seeing herself for the first time in nearly eight long years. She stared in pained disbelief; her small, shaking hand reached to her face, touched what she could not believe. Her eyes then widened, her face filled with sudden, unspeakable horror, and with a trembling hand she grabbed a vase from the table and threw it hard into the mirror.

Her reflection shattered into a hundred fragments.

Suddenly, it was over. He was back in the room and at first he thought he was alone. Marie had gone. He felt weak still; his limbs felt heavy. With considerable effort, he managed to sit upright on the sofa. Then he saw the woman.

She sat on a chair several paces away, a small candle flickering on a table nearby. She stared back at him, locking his gaze to her lovely eyes, eyes that seemed an opening to an azure summer sky. Lighter brown hair fell in tight ringlets around her pale, troubled face. She wore an

aqua-blue cloak, and she nervously twisted a lace handkerchief in her hands. He noticed her ring: a small aquamarine stone surrounded by tiny diamonds; the center stone matched perfectly the color of her eyes.

Elizabeth Devon was as beautiful as her daughter.

Certain he was dreaming, Victor used every ounce of strength to shake the vision from his dazed mind. The attempt brought the realization that he still couldn't move. He failed to lift an arm in the air, to create a sound in his throat. The image of Elizabeth Devon held him immobile, forcing him still to listen to what she'd say.

She seemed to be waiting for his struggle to cease, and when she finally spoke, her voice belonged to the elite English upper class, though it held a faint, acquired French accent. It was Jade's voice, too, soft and feminine and presently, strained.

"I have come to speak to you about the love we share for my daughter, Jade Terese. Before I warn you, before I beg you, please know that I am aware of your struggle. Love is seldom an easy thing. I do not know why this should be so, only that it is.

"In a very short time, you will be shown a way to restore my daughter's sight. You will, of course, want to do this"—her voice rose with feeling—"not just for yourself and your love, but for my daughter's well-being also. You will think it is the answer to your struggle.”

An impotent fury rose in him, startling in its force. He fought to make sense of her words, words that he couldn't believe. Was he so tormented that he had created an image of Jade's mother telling him he would restore Jade's sight? Or was it the potion, drinking, what ...

"It is this that I must beg you not to do! You must understand; Jade Terese chose to be blind. It is no accident. You and I and a million others would not make the same choice, but for Jade Terese, it was and still is the only way she survives. You must understand that blindness allows her to endure; it protects her from what her heart and mind, her very soul, cannot bear to witness."

His jaw locked with tension as his mind rebelled. Words formed angrily in his head but he still could not speak. He didn't understand! This was an outrageous presumption that Jade chose to be blind!

As though sensing his emotions, the woman dropped to her knees and tears sprang in her enchanting eyes. "Please believe me! 'Tis true! If you force her to see again, you will destroy her! You will kill her! I beg you. I beg you ..."

In the next instant, Victor was staring at an empty room, stunned and confused. He did not know how long he remained motionless, looking at the place where she had knelt moments before. But there came a point when the room started spinning again. It faded and then, suddenly, it was gone.

He stood at the end of a tree-lined lane. A house rose in the foreground and he knew it as Galier Manor, Jade's childhood home, from the many descriptions she had given of it. It was so quiet, though. With a start, he realized three ravens sat on his outstretched arm. Screeching, the ravens took flight. How terribly strange! He looked around with alarm, confused, not knowing where he was or what he was doing until—

A young girl he recognized only too well came to his side. At first he was so transfixed by the image of Jade as a child that he failed to grasp what he was about to be shown.