His Heart's Revenge (The Marshall Brothers Series, Book 2) (46 page)

The backs of her fingers slid carefully and lightly across his abdomen. A knuckle found his navel. She circled it with her thumb and then kissed him there. One palm moved back and forth along his thigh. Katy did not notice that his breathing had changed.

"Touch me there," he said, his voice thick with sleep and desire.

"There?"

"Hmm... with your mouth."

She did.

* * *

"God, Katy," he said much later. "Will you always surprise me?"

She smiled. "Perhaps."

"I have so much to learn about you." He felt her stiffen. Teasing, he asked, "Secrets, Katy?"

She thought about Michael, his ugly threats, her fears of returning to New York, and spoke of none of it. "You know me better than anyone," she said. "What secrets could I possibly have from you?"

Chapter 13

September 1873—New York City

It seemed all it had done since returning to the city was rain. Anticipating another day of the same made Katy pull a pillow over her head when Logan nudged her awake.

"What are your plans for today?" he asked, straightening the cuffs and collar of his shirt. "More nanny interviews?"

It was no use, she thought, trying to sleep a few minutes longer when Logan wanted conversation. She turned on her back and threw her pillow at him. It missed him by a yard. "I am seeing three applicants this morning," she said, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. "Then I am going to answer invitations. A dozen more must have arrived yesterday."

Logan caught the hint of surprise in her voice. Katy still had not been able to accept that she was going to be received. Their marriage caused a stir, of course, just as Logan had known it would, but there was never any question in his mind of being a pariah in society—unless he chose to make himself one. He reasoned the invitations for dining and dancing were more often extended out of curiosity than courtesy, but that was no reason not to accept them. People would see for themselves that the fabric of high society was not completely rent by the inclusion of one former actress.

"It is because of the
Chronicle
, isn't it?" said Katy.

Logan paused in buttoning his vest. "In part."

She sighed. "I never appreciated what a powerful man you are in this city." For all of Victor's money, she realized, he had still only been a merchant in the eyes of many. Logan commanded another position entirely, where wealth and influence were irrevocably intertwined.

"Don't think about it," he said. "I know I don't. Power is a highly overrated acquisition. The paper is an enormous responsibility—one that I don't take lightly. If people really think I would use the
Chronicle
to make certain my wife is not snubbed, let them think it. They are fools anyway." He finished fastening his vest, shrugged into his jacket, and kissed Katy lightly on the forehead. "I will be home for dinner if you tell Mrs. Morrisey to serve at six."

Katy automatically added ninety minutes. She was beginning to understand Logan's hours at the paper. The
Chronicle
might be put to bed on time, but Logan Marshall rarely was. "All right," she said, giving an abrupt little yawn that made Logan smile. Her eyes followed him out of the room.

Interviewing prospective nannies took most of the morning. None of them satisfied Katy, although all of them were satisfactory. At the end of the third interview she realized the problem was that she wanted Mrs. Castle back. She suspected that Victoria felt the same way, although Logan's housekeeper was making herself very important in the little girl's life.

Katy responded to invitations until luncheon was served. Afterward, aware that the sky was clearing and the sun was actually threatening to shine, Katy dressed Victoria in her most becoming bonnet and gown, put her in the white wicker carriage that Logan had recently purchased, and took her daughter for a leisurely walk along the avenue.

It seemed a great many of her neighbors were coaxed out of doors by the promise of sunshine. Katy made it a point to look even the most disapproving, stern-faced society matrons in the eye and bid them good day. Victoria, without exerting herself, seemed to win them over. If anyone noticed the baby bore a strong resemblance to Logan Marshall and virtually none at all to Victor Donovan, there were no raised eyebrows in Katy's presence.

Enjoying herself, her daughter, and the unexpected loveliness of the day, Katy was unaware of how far she walked until she stood on the southeast corner of Fifty-second Street, directly across from the large brownstone residence of Madame Restell. Katy was struck again by the irony of the city's most expensive abortionist enjoying such a choice location along Fifth Avenue. Reportedly Madame Restell had received a number of generous offers for her property—all of which she turned down. No one dared push too hard, for fear she would reveal the skeletons everyone was so eager to keep closeted.

Katy began to turn Victoria's carriage around. She stopped. A side gate entrance to Madame Restell's home opened and a familiar figure stepped onto the sidewalk. For a moment Katy thought she must be mistaken. It was broad daylight. That fact alone made Katy doubt her eyes. Women of wealth and status came and went from Madame Restell's all the time, but always at night. It was easier for Katy to believe she was seeing things than to admit it was Ria Donovan leaving the brownstone.

To her credit, Ria kept her eyes lowered and her face averted from passersby. No one seemed to pay much attention to her. She was dressed plainly in a simple black day gown, and a black straw bonnet mostly covered her striking red hair. She could have been in mourning, or she could have been a servant.

"Ria?" Katy said her name gently.

Ria's head jerked up. She blinked, not quite believing the evidence of her eyes anymore than Katy had earlier. "Katy! It
is
you!" She held out both hands, which Katy took immediately and squeezed gently. "Oh, Katy," she said softly. "How good it is to see you." Then, as if suddenly aware of where they were, she pulled free of Katy's light grasp and turned. "Please," she said. "Walk with me."

Katy wheeled the carriage around and began walking south along the avenue again. "What were you doing there?" she asked.

Ria did not answer immediately. Instead she placed one hand on the carriage handle and cast a pleading look at Katy. "May I?"

"Certainly," said Katy, stepping aside to let Ria push.

"You know about my baby?" asked Ria.

Katy nodded. "Logan told me. I am so sorry, Ria."

"Do not be sorry." She reached into the carriage and traced the lace edging of Victoria's bonnet. "I often wondered if you fared better than I. She is beautiful. I understand you named her after Victor."

"I wanted to write," said Katy. "So many times I started a letter to you and each time I put it away again."

"Why? Why did you leave without a word? Michael was frantic with worry. He said I must have done something to offend you." She glanced at Katy again. "Is that true? Did I offend you in some way?"

"No! You must never think that. Michael is wrong. Quite wrong." Katy had to rein in her anger. How dare Michael lay the blame for her disappearance at Ria's feet. He was perfectly aware that his ultimatums were the catalyst for her departure. "I left because everything I saw was a painful reminder of Victor. I just couldn't stay at the house any longer. I should have talked to you first, told you what I was going to do, but I was not thinking clearly then."

"And later?" asked Ria. "You said you wanted to write. What stopped you?"

"I cannot explain it," Katy said, shaking her head. "I wish I could, but I cannot."

"And neither can I," Ria said.

"What?"

"About Madame Restell's. I cannot explain. Can you accept that?"

"Yes. Of course I can."

Ria nodded, satisfied with Katy's answer. "I named my little girl Victoria," she said softly.

Katy's heart went out to her friend. "Logan did not tell me that," she said after a moment. "I don't think he knew."

Ria was very careful not to jostle Victoria as she tilted the carriage over the curb. "He may not have," Ria said. "I confess I was surprised to read that you married him. I had not realized you were acquainted."

"We knew each other many years ago."

"I told Michael it would be something like that."

"Michael spoke of my marriage?"

"Several times since it first appeared in the papers." She cast Katy a sidelong look. "You and Michael never really got on, did you?"

"No, we never did."

"He was so jealous of your place in Victor's life."

That was true, Katy almost said, but not in quite the manner Ria thought. "He should be pleased that I have remarried. I have no claim to the terms of Victor's will now."

"Is that what you think?"

"Of course. It's true, isn't it?"

Ria shook her head. "Victor's will provided for you regardless of whether you remarried. And there is still the matter of Victoria's claim."

"Oh dear. I thought all of that was in the past. Believe me, Ria, I do not want anything from Victor's estate."

"I believe you. It is Michael who is so unreasonable about the entire matter. He really does believe he is entitled to every part of Victor's fortune."

Katy did not want to hear about Michael or even think of him. She changed the subject. "Tell me about you, Ria. You are looking well." It was not idle flattery that prompted Katy to speak. Ria's mourning clothes did not detract from her appearance. Her green eyes were bright, her complexion smooth and fair, and her hair, even tucked and coiled as it was, had a thick, lustrous sheen to it. Her petite figure had returned to its previous hourglass shape, so envied by society mavens. "Are you happy?"

"Happy?" Ria smiled faintly. "Trust you to ask that. Do you know, I have never even thought about it." Ria nodded politely to the mother and daughter who strolled past them on the walk. "Good day, Mrs. McKitrick. Lynne." When they were out of earshot, she confided, "Yes, I think I am happy." She smiled as Victoria laughed for no apparent reason. "Truly happy. Children are good for one's spirits, aren't they?"

Katy nodded. "Oh, yes. Victoria lifts mine."

They walked on in companionable silence. At the corner of Forty-third and Fifth, Ria stopped and gave the carriage over to Katy. "You will come to afternoon tea sometime, won't you?"

"I would like that, but—"

Ria read Katy's mind and stopped her objection. "Don't worry about Michael. I shall plan it for a day when he is not home until late. There is no reason you have to see him at all."

"Then I would like to come."

"Good. It's settled. I will send around a note for you." She raised two fingers to her lips, kissed them, and then laid them lightly on Victoria's cheek. "You are a darling," she said softly. "So much like my—" She stopped herself and looked at Katy. "You have been blessed. I wish—" Ria turned then, her emerald eyes feverishly bright, and before Katy could reply, she hurried off in the direction of the Donovan mansion.

Katy stood on the corner for several long seconds, watching Ria's retreating back, wondering at what she had only glimpsed in Ria's expression. Just below the level of her awareness some of the joy of her encounter with Ria faded, leaving Katy with an oddly chilled feeling that she could not put her finger on.

* * *

The invitation to afternoon tea came several days later. Katy, still without a nanny, left Victoria with Mrs. Brandywine and had Joe Means drive her to the Donovan's. "You needn't wait, Joe," she told him as she alighted from the carriage. "Come back in an hour or so. I cannot imagine I will stay much beyond that."

"Very good, ma'am." He tipped his hat and climbed back into the carriage but did not move from curbside until he saw that Katy was welcomed into the home.

"Thank you, Duncan," Katy said as the butler showed her into the front parlor. He held her light summer cape and feathered bonnet in the crook of his arm. The train of her rose silk gown brushed the side of the door as Duncan closed it behind her.

She saw him too late. There was an ominous click from the other side as Duncan turned a key in the door from the hallway. Katy stood perfectly still in the threshold of the room and willed herself to keep a level head. It was not as if no one knew where she was. Joe Means was coming back for her, Mrs. Brandywine was expecting her for dinner, and she told Logan only this morning that she planned to visit Ria in the afternoon. Reminding herself of these things calmed Katy. She met Michael Donovan's sharp gaze with cool disinterest.