A Season Beyond a Kiss (44 page)

“I shan’t tell anyone,” Raelynn murmured reassuringly, dropping a hand upon the woman’s arm.

“Thank you.” Elizabeth patted the comforting hand and then heaved a sigh. “So now you know my dark, ugly secret, the
only
one who knows, I might add, but you seemed so distressed by your own circumstances, Raelynn, I thought it would help if you knew what I’ve been trying to hide these past few years.”

“You’re not the only woman who has wished for a man’s death,” Raelynn informed her. “When I thought Olney had killed Jeff, I wasn’t in a very forgiving mood. I found myself wishing the same end for both Gustav and Olney. So you see, Elizabeth, I’m capable of having revengeful thoughts, too.”

“It’s not very heartening for a woman to realize she can feel so much hatred for a man that she can actually wish his death.” Elizabeth managed a wavering smile. “At least you don’t hate your husband.”

Raelynn tried to laugh, but it came out sounding strained. “No, on the contrary, if Jeffrey were to banish me out of his life forever, I think my heart would probably shrivel up and die.”

“Jeffrey seems immensely taken with you, Raelynn,” Elizabeth ventured. “I can’t believe he’d ever distance himself from you.”

Raelynn could not bring herself to explain that he had done that very thing but in a smaller measure during the first two weeks of their marriage. “Only time will tell,” she murmured dejectedly, “but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the short time I’ve been married to Jeffrey, then it’s his utter lack of hesitancy to do the unexpected if the situation calls for drastic measures. He
will
set me aside in a divorce if we can’t reconcile our problems.”

Mentally casting off her gloom for her own sake as well as for her boarder’s, Elizabeth assumed a brighter countenance. “Let’s go upstairs, shall we? I’d like to show you the bedroom you’ll be using while you’re here.”

  
  I
N THE DEAD OF NIGHT, AFTER MUCH TOSSING AND
turning in a pitch-black room, Raelynn finally gave up the battle she had been waging in her lonely bed and allowed her mind to drift back through her memories of Jeffrey. In whatever circumstance or mood, whether serious, sensual, angry or playful, he had never failed to demonstrate a gentle, chivalrous regard for her. He had likely saved her life in the swamp, and even in Red Pete’s cabin, when he had known of her suspicions and, for a time, been angry with her, he had nevertheless nurtured her as a husband deeply concerned for her welfare.

One afternoon about a week after they had wed came to mind. They had been at a wedding reception for an old acquaintance of Jeff’s. Male friends had drawn him away from her side to teasingly harass him for marrying without obtaining their permission. His ready quips had elicited boisterous laughter, prompting the wives of his companions to follow in growing curiosity, but by then, Raelynn had begun to sense that Jeffrey was keeping his distance, at least as much as circumstances allowed, and she hadn’t felt the freedom to join the ever-expanding group, but had stood alone, self-consciously sipping her punch. Almost without pause, the vultures had descended upon her in the form of several former hopefuls who had crowded around her to ask snide questions, the most pointed being, “How in the world did you
ever
manage to entrap Jeffrey Birmingham in marriage?”

Perhaps her face had registered her deepening dismay, for it wasn’t long before Jeff had left his friends to come to her rescue. With a debonair grin that had vividly defined the taut depressions in his cheeks, he had made a show of claiming her for the benefit of her antagonists, settling a hand possessively upon her waist as he bent near her ear and whispered much too softly for the other women to hear, “Would you like me to save you from these malevolent witches, my dear?” to which she had eagerly nodded and smiled.

His gallantry had extended itself in the form of kissing her hand before he had tucked it safely within the crook of his arm and turned to the other women to make their excuses. Had he been a knight in shining armor, he could not have looked more wonderful to her at that moment. Barely an hour later, when they had been about to climb into the landau, she had found herself once again the recipient of the inquisitive stares of the spiteful three. After handing her in, Jeff had taken a place beside her on the seat and had dropped the leather panels over the windows, ignoring the liberally accommodating gap that had been left between the frame and the shade. While the women had craned their necks to peer inside, Jeff had pulled her close and, to her utter amazement, kissed her in an overtly sensual fashion. In one way Raelynn had been entirely grateful for his favor and yet, in another, regretful, for the fires he had lit had been difficult to quench even after she had retired to her virginal bed later that night. But that task had hardly been as arduous as calming the tumultuous cravings now tormenting her. After tasting passion’s appeasement to the fullest extent, she was now fully conscious of what she was yearning for, no less than her husband’s amorous attentions.

Could a man who had been so caring and tender with her during that difficult period of abstinence turn so completely about face and callously murder a young mother with a baby at her side? The question flared without warning in her mind, as if to accuse her for her irrational condemnation of her husband. If indeed Jeff was capable of such a monstrous crime and some dark demon truly lurked behind that gallant facade, then wouldn’t he be a man tormented by the wickedness lurking deep within him? Wouldn’t she have glimpsed some evidence of those malevolent characteristics in him in some brief, carelessly unguarded moment? Was he such an accomplished actor that he could hide a vile nature so adeptly beneath a façade of gentlemanly refinement? Although he had ranted at Nell and expressed his desire to throttle the girl, was he more evil than other men who might have done the same thing in a moment of irritation without meaning a word of it?

Raelynn realized of a sudden that she had great difficulty rationalizing a man of Jeff’s integrity being capable of such a despicable murder. That dark side just didn’t seem to exist in the man. And she was an utter fool for ever doubting him!

17

It was on a Friday afternoon when Raelynn glanced up from her work and espied Gustav Fridrich entering the shop with his usual disdaining arrogance. This he liberally bestowed upon the doorman who had stepped in behind him in an effort to question him. After all, Fridrich was well known and unattached, which seemed primarily the cause for the cordial inquiry as to whether he had come to the right establishment. It was too late for Raelynn to hide, and with seemingly steadfast dedication, she bent her attention to her sketches.

Elizabeth drew Farrell’s notice to the German’s entrance, motivating the couturier to excuse himself forthwith from his customer, Isabeau Wesley. As he approached the doorway, he waved a hand to dismiss the doorman, but by that time, Fridrich had espied Raelynn in the adjoining hall and was already sweeping off his hat as he moved in her direction.

“Your pardon, Mr. Fridrich.” Farrell’s icy tone could have frozen both the Ashley and Cooper Rivers in the middle of summer. “Since this is a shop catering entirely to the fair ladies of our city, I must ask why you’ve come. I certainly hope it isn’t to make trouble for Mrs. Birmingham again. I’d hate to upset my customers by a show of violence.” He smiled stiffly before he added, “But if I must, I must.”

Offended by the man’s intimidation, Gustav peered up at the taller man, a feat that required a definite tilting of his bald head. His eyes were icy hard, his lips tightly compressed, and his nose pinched as if he smelled something putrid. “I do not zee vhy my visit should concern yu, but I vish to speak vith
Frau
Birmingham. Zhat is vhy I haf come. Now, please step out of my vay.”

The German’s haughtiness sorely nettled Farrell. He had definite limits as to the people he would indulge, and Gustav Fridrich was not one of them. “I’m afraid Mrs. Birmingham is presently working on some designs for a special customer of mine, and I’m reluctant to see her interrupted until they’re finished.”

“Vhat I haf to say to
Frau
Birmingham vill only take a moment if yu vill permit me to pass,” Gustav stated crisply. Then, because he was himself well-versed in coercion, he warned the couturier, “I haf not come to offend either
Frau
Birmingham or yu, sir, but I vill make a scene if yu do not let me talk vith her.”

Farrell’s hackles rose. Quite willing to make a commotion himself, he almost caught the stout fellow up by the scruff of the neck and the seat of his pants, but he was brought up short by the realization that aggression of that sort would likely drive the man to seek Raelynn out after the shop was closed, and although Jeff had men watching Elizabeth’s house, Farrell still worried about the time it would take for help to reach the women.

Thoughtfully he glanced down toward the area in which he had ensconced his newest assistant. The burly janitor had moved within close proximity to Raelynn, and though the man had dusted the bookshelves and furnishings in the area earlier that morning, he was presently doing so again. In view of the fact that she had such a capable protector near at hand, Farrell could hardly see her coming to any harm by a one-armed man.

“I’ll give you a moment to speak your piece with Mrs. Birmingham,” he informed the man brusquely. “And then, Mr. Fridrich, I must insist that you make your departure as swiftly as possible.” Inclining his head in a curt nod, Farrell stepped out of the man’s path.

Raelynn had decided that if she had to face Gustav, she would feel much safer doing so behind her desk. When the man halted before the massive piece, she lifted her eyes with deliberate slowness to meet his gaze. Then, without a flicker of an eye or a twitch of a lip, she returned her attention to the sketch she had been working on. “Did you come here with some specific purpose in mind, Mr. Fridrich?”

“Merely to see how yu are faring,
Frau
Birmingham.”

“Why?”

The blunt question seemed to perplex the German, and he struggled to find an appropriate reply. “I only vished to express my zympathy for vhat happened to zhat young girl on yur husband’s plantation. It iz a terrible tragedy zhat one so young vas killed zhere in such a merciless vay. I vorried zhat yu might come to zome harm, too, until I heard zhat yu had moved into Charleston. I can only commend yur decision to leave yur husband.”

“My husband believes you had something to do with Nell’s death.” Raelynn peered up at the man to view his reaction as she asked outrightly, “Were you somehow responsible for her murder, Mr. Fridrich?”

The blue eyes flared, and for a moment Gustav blustered in hot indignation, “Yur husband iz only trying to cover his own foul deeds by casting zhe blame on me, but I am innocent.”

Leaning back in her chair, Raelynn met his gaze directly. “Frankly, Mr. Fridrich, I believe you’re far more capable of murdering a young girl than my husband is. You see, I haven’t forgotten that you gave Olney tacit consent to shoot me after Dr. Clarence became incensed by the news that my husband was dead and refused to tend your shoulder.”

“Oh, but zhat vas merely a ploy to force zhe good
dokter
to reconsider. I vould not haf actually let Olney kill yu,
mein Liebchen.
”

Tossing her head up with a derisive scoff, Raelynn derided, “If you really think you can make me believe that rubbish, Mr. Fridrich, then you’re fooling no one but yourself. I have no doubt that you meant it.”