Read The Willows Online

Authors: Mathew Sperle

Tags: #romance, #historical romance, #s

The Willows (40 page)

She should be, but gazing at Michael,
adding him to the list of those she must say goodbye to, Gwen felt
an ache in her chest. Standing before him, suddenly overwhelmed
aware of his sheer physical presence, she remembered being held
against this man with nothing but her underwear between them. How
incredibly wonderful it had been to simply kiss him, with no
bitterness, no thoughts of the past to soil things. Just the two of
them communicating the only way they knew how.

Something sparked in his eyes, as if he
too recalled the moment. “Damn it,” He said, “Don’t look at me like
that.”


She blinked. “Like
what?”


With your big, wide eyes
and pouting lips. Don’t tell me you don’t know what it does to a
man when you turn on the charm, my lady. You’ve been using your
looks to get what you wanted for years.”


No. I-“


I won’t be manipulated.” He
gazed at her face, her lips, before tossing the bottle into the
water and grabbing her by the arms. “I’m sick and tired of you
coming at me, blowing hot one minute, then going cold enough to
leave a man freezing. Of your eyes making promises your body has no
attention of keeping.”

She burned with humiliation. Was that
what he thought, that she’d been deliberately teasing him? “You
don’t understand-“


No, no more. I’m going
before I do something we both regret.” Roughly releasing her, he
went to his boat. “But be warned,” He threw over his shoulder, “The
next time you start something with me, I aim to finish
it.”

A quick thrill pulsed through her
veins. She need only smile and step forward to force the issue, and
he’d the decision from her hands. Yet as much as she longed to be
in his arms, she knew in her heart that is she went to him now,
after he’d so distinctly warned her, she’d be to blame for whatever
happened. She might just as well deliberate seduce him.

Not that he gave her the opportunity.
Digging his pole into the mud, he pushed off down the bayou, never
once glancing back.

Gwen hugged herself, fighting
frustration and disappointment. She had such plans, such
enthusiasm, and just like that, he meant to send her away? Turning
back to the cabin, she tried to find solace in the fact that she’d
soon be at the Willows, but all she could think of was the cake she
and Jude planned to bake, the stories she hadn’t yet read to
Chris.


He sure was angry, huh?”
Jude stood on the porch steps, her brothers gathered behind
her.

Wondering how much they’d heard, Gwen
studied their faces. From their anxious expressions, she feared it
was more they should have. She prayed they hadn’t understood
Michael’s words. “It will be all right,” She said. “He’ll come
around.”


We’re not babies. You don’t
need to lie to use.” Jude stood stiffly, hands crossed her chest,
more than ever like Michael. Both seemed to think the best defense
was to come out fighting.

Jude used belligerence to hide her
softer emotions from the world, while Michael protected himself
with anger.


It wasn’t so much lying,”
Gwen told her, “as hoping out loud.”

Jude tilted her head, eyeing Gwen’s
with a puzzled expression. “What are you hoping for?”

What indeed?


You heard her, Jude.” Chris
ran down the stairs to stand beside Gwen. “She told uncle she wants
to stay here.”


You won’t let him send us
off, will you?” Paul asked, joining them.

Gwen liked to reassure them, but she
knew Jude was right; they’d be better served with the truth. “Your
uncle is your guardian. If he decides to send you away, theirs
little I can do to stop him.”


We don’t want to go to
these people.” Peter followed his twin down the steps. “They are
mean and nasty.”

Startled by the resistence, Gwen turned
to the two still on the porch. “What is wrong? Why don’t you want
to go to your grandmother’s family?”

With a shrug, Patrick descended the
steps. “They weren’t very nice to mom and Michael,” He explained as
he joined them. “They wouldn’t have gone there, if there had been
anywhere else to go.”


At first, Mama was
excited,” Paul added. “She didn’t know why her mother dreaded it,
since her folks had a big old house and lots of money.”


Yeah, that changed when she
met them.” Peter nearly spat out the words. “Her grandparents were
so awful, mother had to marry father to escape them.”

Jude spoke from the porch, her tone
flat. “She knew it was the only way Michael could get away, too. He
only stayed to protect her.”

In the terrible quiet, Gwen felt pity
for Jeanette. It must have been awful indeed, if life with a man
like Jacques Morteau seemed an improvement. And poor Michael.
Knowing him, he probably felt guilty, convinced that his freedom
had cost his sister her life.

But by all that was sane, how could he
justify-or even consider-condemning the child to similar
fate?

The bank loan, she realized.
Disappointment had him lashing out; pride kept him realizing what
truly mattered.


You’ll talk to him, won’t
you, Gwen?” Patrick asked softly. “Make him see we can’t go
there.”

And why would he listen to
me?
Was her first thought, but her gaze
settled on Jude, and her hopeful expression made Gwen paused. It
wasn’t precisely trust, but the girl wanted to believe in her. For
that matter, Gwen wanted to believe in herself.

Couldn’t she at least try? Is she got
him to talk about his hurt and pain, maybe he would see he did not
want to give up on the children, or even his dream. “No promises,”
She offered, “but I will talk to him and see what I can
do.”


That would mean you would
have to stay longer,” Jude warned, her pose once again stiff and
wary. “You ready to do that?”

Suddenly lighthearted, Gwen gestured
around her. “Where else can I fight alligators? Or sleep with
snakes? My dear girl, you can’t find this kind of excitement at the
Willows!”

She was rewarded by the laughs of from
the boys and grudging smile from Jude. “You might be better off
fighting gators,” the girl told her. “Michael’s just liable to bite
your head off.”

Gwen thought that was very likely. “Let
him,” She said defiantly. “He just might find he’s bitten off more
than he can chew.”


Does that mean you will
stay and be our mother?” Chris asked hopefully. “Forever and
always?”

Conscious of the need for truth, she
shook her head. “Oh, sweetie, I can’t say what life has waiting
around the corner. All I can promise is that I’ll do my best to
convince your uncle to keep you’re here. Past that, well, he and I
don’t exactly get along all too well.” His frown reminded her that
this was her problem, not the children’s; they had enough to worry
them. “Why don’t we take things one step at a time? Right now, I
think we have to worry more about planning his party. Why, we have
less than two weeks to go.”


There might not be one, if
we have to go to the city.”


Don’t be so gloomy, Jude.”
Herding the boys up the stairs, Gwen hooked her arm in the girl’s.
“We will have our party, and we’ll make it so special, no one will
want to leave. I think it’s especially important now that you show
your uncle how much you care about him.”

AS the boys shuffled into the cabin,
Jude eyed her speculatively. “What about you?”


Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be
thinking and planning, too.”


That’s not what I mean.
Don’t you think Michael needs to know how much you care about him,
too?”


I-“the denial froze Gwen’s
lips.

Slipping her arm free, grinning smugly,
Jude turned to go.

Standing alone on the porch, Gwen
feared she would spend the rest of the night pondering that
question.

Just how much did she care about
Michael?

 

Chapter 18

Edith watched her father enter the
room, wishing she had the courage to order him away. She’d tried to
explain that Uncle John was getting some rare and much-needed rest,
but father merely brushed past with preoccupied from.

She knew that the note he clutched in
his hands must be bad news, otherwise he’d have shared it with her.
Guessing further, she imagined the news was about Gwen, since her
cousin’s disappearance seemed to be all the menfolk talked about
these days. That, and John’s condition

Too late. With a pang, Edith eyed her
uncle, looking smaller and more lost than ever on the huge,
four-poster bed. He’s wasting away, she thought, and this business
with his daughter wasn’t helping him. Father daily reports did
little to help; his doom and gloom hastening her uncle’s
death.


It’s come” Jervis announced
with preamble, crossing the room to his brother’s side, waving the
paper in his hands. “The enemy has shown his face at
last.”

Uncle John roused slowly, his confusion
plain. Curious in spite of herself, Edith moved closer to the
bed.


What is it?” John asked
testily, showing a bit of his former self. “Damn it, can’t you see
I was asleep?”

Father hesitated, momentarily unsure of
himself, and in that instant, Edith saw her father too clearly,
Jervis might pretend to be in charge, but even deadly ill, John
would remain the strong one. As long as his brother live, Jervis
must live in his shadow.

Her father’s frown proved how much he
resent the fact. Don’t listen to him, she had the sudden urge to
warn her uncle.


I knew you’d want to see
this.” All smiles now, Jervis could hardly contain himself. “The
ransom note has come at last.”

There was a gasp. It could have been
Uncle John’s or even her own, for she couldn’t have been more
shocked. A ransom note? She’d truly believed Gwen hadn’t been
kidnapped, that she might be in actual danger from the dark
stranger, and would come home to them all in her own good time. The
thought that she might be in actual danger mate Edith feel suddenly
ill. In all her craziness she had it expected anything truly bad to
happen to her cousin; she just wanted Gwen out of the way, so she
could have Lance.

“”
Who?” Edith found herself
asking. “Who is the kidnapper?”


Same one who tricked her
into a fake marriage of course.”

John started to smile, then apparently
thought better of it.


John, you’re not to be
worrying about this.” Father went on, too preoccupied to notice.
“Lance is out searching the countryside for Gwen. I have every
confidence that he will find her and bring her home.”

He took a deep breath. Watching him,
Edith saw he was so preoccupied. He was gearing up for the chair
through reason he had comment into the room.


In the meantime,” Jarvis
continued, his sincerity striking the wrong note. “I think it maybe
a good idea to make your preparations. You won’t want to leave your
state in disarray should… Well should the worst happen. I really do
think we should call the lawyer.”


Why not just pay it?”
Seeing their blank expression, a flustered Edith was forced to
explain “the ransom note, I mean. With all the money made at the
tournament, surely there is no need to risk when his
life?

Father scouted her fiercely. “Can be
catering to every thug that makes it the man on us,” he said. “Who
is to say Lance will return her even after we given him the money?
He could kill your cousin. Is that what you want?”

She shook her head, appealed, but not
by the picture he painted. He had hit her, with the force of a
blow, that Jervis would actually prefer her cousin dad. He would
find it a convenience.

Sick at heart, knowing she’d helped her
put her cousin in this position, she turned to her all goal of some
vague idea of apologizing. Uncle John gave her a reassuring smile.
“Your father’s right, of course,” he said, turning to his brother.
“Very well brother, bring the lawyer. It is time I changed my
will.”

Father cannot quite the room fast
enough, in seeing his bold victory, Edith felt it physically ill.
Her father had let envy and ambition overrun his conscience, but
she now realize how deeply, she stumbled into the same self the
occupied state.

Talking her uncle in, encouraging him
to sleep, she followed her father out of the room with a worried
frown. Surely it wasn’t too late to men her ways. Jervis would not
stop his plotting, but his daughter could do her upmost to minimize
his success.

From now on, there would be no more
blindly following her father’s orders, and no more trusting Lance
to find her cousin, either. Clearly, neither man cared about
reuniting father and daughter before all good John lit this earth;
both were two busy trying get their hands on the Willows. She alone
seem to notice the only affairs the man needed to get in order were
emotional ones. Nursing him every day, Edith knew her uncle needed
to talk to Gwen, to get things resolved before them, so he could
die in peace.

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