Ashton’s irritation had not eased as he returned her gaze with a frown.
“I’ll get the book,” she said, reading his annoyance. “I left it over there by the chair.” She swept across the room and picked up the volume that she had seen on the table when she first visited Lierin. Though she had concocted the lie out of desperation, knowing that Ashton would probably still be in the room, it had given her an excuse to get in and hopefully halt whatever amorous play might be taking place.
“Oh, Ashton…” Marelda paused at the door. “I thought I heard a ruckus in the stables before I came up. Do you suppose there’s any trouble with the horses? Should I send someone out there to see? Or will you be going out?”
“I’ll see to it,” Ashton growled, by now thoroughly incensed with the woman.
“Do you want me to stay with Lierin while you go?” she offered in the guise of sweetness.
Lierin answered for herself, somewhat stiffly. “That won’t be necessary, Marelda.”
“Well, good night then. Pleasant dreams.” Marelda fairly sang the words as she waltzed out of the room.
Ashton gnashed his teeth as he retrieved his coat from the chair and flung it over his shoulder. “She came in here on purpose.”
Lierin was in full agreement, but having no wish to set spurs to his anger, she refrained from voicing her opinion. “I hope there’s nothing wrong with the horses.”
“Marelda probably made that up, too,” Ashton replied. His mood softened as he brought Lierin close again. “It will be torture to leave you.”
“It will be torture if you stay,” she whispered back. “I’m not ready for this yet. Go,” she urged, “see about your horses, and give me time to think.”
Ashton glanced up from his ledgers as a soft rapping came upon his door. Almost in unison, the tinkling chimes of his desk clock began to herald the hour of eleven. He rose and stretched his arms over his head to release the knot that had formed between his shoulder blades. After he had been called out to the stables on a fool’s errand, he wondered what other crisis awaited him outside his chamber door. Alas, it was far more than he had expected. Marelda had come brazenly adorned in a loosely flowing peignoir that hung open over a diaphanous gown. The gossamer cloth held nothing from his regard. Indeed, it was hardly more than a transparent web over her body. Her hair fell in a dark torrent around her shoulders, and when she moved forward into the room, his senses were assailed by a heavy, liberally used fragrance. Smiling seductively, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, thrusting out her small breasts until they strained against the sheer cloth. The invitation in her eyes was for him to reach out and accept all that she offered. When he made no such attempt, she advanced toward him with a slow, undulating motion that was meant to captivate her audience, forcing him to retreat before the imminent threat of contact.
Ashton’s brows twisted dubiously as he considered the woman. “I believe you’ve made a mistake, Marelda.”
“No mistake, Ashton.” Her red lips parted in a seductive smile as she slipped the peignoir from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. “I have grown tired of chasing you betwixt your marriage and your infatuations. I have come to offer myself so you can no longer mistake what I have to give you. No other woman can fulfill your needs and your desires as well as I…because I know you far better than those strangers whom you seek out. They are no more than passing fancies. You’ll grow tired of them eventually, but I shall always be here to love you.”
He shook his head, bemused by her persistence. If he had pursued her in a heated passion at any previous time, he might have been able to understand her refusal to let go. “Marelda, I’m sorry…I’m…not the man for you, and even if I were, I’m not free to accept what you offer.”
Not willing to yield the field, she cajoled in soft supplication: “You’re as free as you wish to be, Ashton, and I have come willingly to give myself to you. You know you love me. Why do you deny it?”
Ashton stared down at her for a moment, somewhat astounded by her reasoning; then he let out a long, slow breath and tried to soften his words with a halfhearted smile. “The mistake is yours, Marelda. Truly yours. You must understand that I love my wife.” He let his smile fade and then slowly, deliberately stressed his next words. “I love Lierin.”
The truth of his words finally penetrated, and the metamorphosis was swift. The silken sultry smile became a snarl of rage. The dark eyes flared and then glared, and she fairly hissed as she came at him with fingers curled, ready to claw his face.
“Calm down, Marelda,” he commanded sharply, catching her wrists and holding them away as she fought with wild-eyed fury. “This will do you no good.”
A growl came from Marelda’s throat as she jerked away. Snatching up her robe, she thrust her arms in the sleeves and wrapped the belt securely about her. The rouge and kohl stood out boldly on her rage-twisted face and made her resemble a rejected street hussy in amorous disarray. With quick, angry movements she knotted her long hair off her neck, and gave vent to several gutter-born epithets with a voice that was sharp and piercing. Ashton’s brow arched in some amusement as he heard a brief dissertation on possible aspects of his parentage, birth, and rearing. She ignored no phase in his life until she reached the recent past.
“You river-running scum! You tempt me with your damned tight breeches and twitching buttocks until I’m led to disgracing myself by coming here! I placed my tender heart as a helpless offering in your hands, but you rend it apart and cast me aside like a shred of half-eaten fruit; then you turn away, smug in your conceit, leaving me to find solace at some stranger’s whim.” She laid a hand upon the doorknob, but hurled more insults before she left. “You vile bastard! Rogue! Bah! Men! Fools to the last!”
The door was snatched open and slammed behind her with a vengeance. A moment later her own closed with echoing finality.
Chapter Five
MARELDA left Belle Chêne with all the outraged energy of a summer tempest. She gave minimal farewells to the elder ladies, who were somewhat dazed by her abrupt decision to be gone. Her large trunk was wrestled into the back of her landau, and when Ashton came to see her off, she gave him a curt nod, scorning his proffered hand before she turned to accept assistance from her driver. As the carriage departed, Amanda and Jennifer cast curious glances at Ashton, but neither gained any measure of understanding from his slowly widening grin.
Marelda seethed the entire distance to Natchez and mumbled curses against the master of Belle Chêne, hoping the earth would open up and devour him and his specious bride. As her rage and frustration mounted, she thought she would definitely revel in news of their mutual demise. Indeed, if such an announcement ever came to her ears concerning Lierin Wingate, she made a promise to herself that she would dance on the little tart’s grave. She had suffered far too much at the hands of that twit. It seemed her best efforts had been frustrated by the family’s willingness to be taken in by that feigned innocence, and she considered it highly unfair. She had been the one abused, not that chit!
The prior evening’s scene was repeated over and over in Marelda’s mind and did much to churn up animosities from the darkest pit of hell. Not only were the couple mentally cursed and castigated, but stripped and put on imaginary racks of torture, where she laid burning coals against their flesh for every offense they had caused her to suffer. She especially delighted in the idea of flogging the wench, while Ashton helplessly witnessed the torture. Thoughts of revenge only aggravated her hatred, and she began to conjure actual ways her venom could reach out and destroy them. Much to her sorrow, however, there seemed to be no successful way of escaping the backlash of her schemes. Justice would be blind to her reason, and whatever she set out to do she could only expect to feel the bite of her own fangs in the end. The threat of enduring reprisal dissuaded her from pursuing the matter further. Until she found a way to repay the pair without coming under condemnation herself, they would be safe from her plots.