He mulled the information over in his mind and then asked, "So you did in fact marry me just to protect your inheritance?"
"No, I married you to protect the twins."
"Taylor, if I wasn't ever supposed to know about them, how was I going to protect them?"
His anger and his exasperation were both evident in his voice. She took an instinctive step back.
"You were my safety measure," she explained. "At the time, even I didn't fully understand. But Madam did. She insisted I marry you. She'd found out all about you. She had a file the size of a hatbox in her room. She'd gathered quite a bit of information about you and was certain that if I ever needed you to protect the babies, you would be there."
Lucas had tensed at the mention of the file. "Did you read the information she'd gathered?"
He wasn't able to keep the worry out of his voice, but reason pushed his initial panic aside. Her grandmother obviously hadn't had access to his war file. She never would have allowed her granddaughter to marry him if that was the case. There was also the possibility that Travis and his cohorts had softened the truth about him. By the end of the war, he had turned into a combination of a gunfighter and a bounty hunter, but the army hadn't looked at it quite that way. Hell, they'd given him medals for what they called valor. In Lucas's mind, killing was killing, and fancy medals couldn't change that fact. He'd put the medals away and never looked at them again. They were a part of his life he was determined to forget.
Taylor misinterpreted his reaction to her news about the file. She thought he was angry. She couldn't blame him. Madam had invaded his privacy, and that was terribly wrong, even though her intentions were honorable.
"No, I didn't read the file. I trusted my grandmother. She told me you were an honorable and courageous man. She even called you a prince among men. I believed her."
He relaxed against the tree trunk again. Taylor folded her hands together in front of her and turned her gaze to the ground.
"You told me about Redemption. Do you remember?"
"Yes," he replied. "You asked a lot of questions and I wondered why, but I sure as certain didn't think you were intending to come here."
"You said a man could walk for a mile and not see another person. I believed the twins would be safe here. Women have dreams, too," she added with a nod. "I always dreamed of one day living on the frontier, but I was going to be reasonable. I planned to wait until the twins were older. Then things changed."
"You needed my help in finding the children."
"Yes," she admitted. "And Madam died. She named the twins in her will. I wanted to believe Malcolm wouldn't look for them. Why would he care? They lived with their father and there wasn't any money to speak of that he would go after."
"Your grandmother left a considerable amount for each twin and that made Malcolm curious to find out where they were. Isn't that right?"
"He's their legal guardian now. I received two telegrams while I was in Cincinnati. You had already left for Chicago." She added that piece of information so he wouldn't think she'd hidden the wires from him. "Tell me about them," he ordered when she didn't immediately continue.
"One was from the banker telling me Malcolm had protested the will. Until the matter is resolved, the money can't be touched. The other wire came from Malcolm. He knows that the twins' father is dead. He told me the court had granted him legal custody of the twins and that he was sending an armed escort to bring them home to him."
Lucas heard the fear in her voice and wanted to take her in his arms again. He forced himself to stay where he was. He was determined to find out everything while his wife was being so agreeable. "Keep explaining, Taylor. I'm listening."
She couldn't look at her husband now. She turned around and stared out into the night. Telling family secrets was difficult, but the shame in her family made the explanation almost unbearable. Marian had told her they were never to speak of the atrocity. It was too vile and sinful.
Taylor gripped her hands together and said a prayer for courage. Her voice echoed with sadness when she continued. "I have been running away from my uncle since I was a very little girl. Marian warned me about him. She told me what he would try to do to me. She protected me from the demon."
She turned around and looked at him. She was searching for signs of disgust. She didn't find any and decided he still didn't understand.
"I slept with the dresser in front of my bedroom door from that day on," she told him. "And I kept a knife under my pillow."
Lucas closed his eyes. The pain he heard in her voice washed over him. He pictured her as a little girl trying to defend herself against a full-grown man's sick cravings and started shaking with rage. He shouldn't have been surprised, for in the time they'd been together, she'd given him sufficient hints. Yes, he had guessed the truth, yet hearing the confirmation still stunned him.
"Did he ever try-"
She wouldn't let him finish his question. Her words were hurried now, for she was anxious to get the rest of the sins told before weeping.
"The little dresser wasn't an obstacle for Malcolm, of course. He came into my room late one night. I didn't wake up until he sat down on the side of the bed. God, I was so terrified. I found the knife under my pillow and when he reached down to cover my mouth with his hand, I cut him."
She took a long shuttering breath. "He didn't know I had a weapon, thank God, or he certainly would have been able to take it away from me. I almost blinded him," she added. "He let out a scream of pain. There was blood everywhere."
"And then what did you do?" he asked. Lucas kept his voice as soothing as possible. His rage was burning inside him, and it was all he could do not to shout with fury on her behalf.
"I ran and hid under Madam's bed. She was out for the evening and I remember I didn't go to sleep until I heard her come into the room. I still don't know what lie Malcolm told her about the injury."
"Why didn't you tell her what happened?"
"How could I?" she cried out. "I felt dirty and ashamed. Such things weren't discussed in our household. I remember I scratched my knee once and tried to show Madam. She was appalled I would raise my dress in her company. Showing a bit of ankle was shameful and there I was, flaunting my bare legs. Cook cleaned the abrasion."
Lucas shook his head. Taylor missed the action. She was staring down at her hands now, lost in her own thoughts. "I was trained to be a lady," she defended. "And ladies did not talk about such vile things. The truth would have killed Madam."
He didn't agree. "You do her an injustice, Taylor. She might not have wanted to hear the truth, but she would have done something about it."
As an adult, Taylor realized Lucas was right. Madam was her champion. She would have protected her and turned her wrath on her son. "Children don't think like grown-ups," she said. "At least I didn't."
"What about Marian?"
"She couldn't tell anyone but me. She didn't feel she could admit that Malcolm had come to her room. Oh, God, I don't know how long it went on. She eventually married George, and after the twins were born, she became desperate to leave England and-"
"Malcolm."
"Yes," Taylor agreed. "She didn't want her daughters near him. George wanted to go back home. He wanted to raise his daughters in America."
She took another step away from him. "Now you know everything," she said, her tone one of defiance.
"And this is when I'm supposed to leave or want to leave but won't because I'm so damned honorable?"
She nodded.
He shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere. Come over here, Taylor. I want to hold you."
She shook her head again, even as she started walking toward him. She burst into tears as soon as he touched her. Lucas held her close and let her cry. He didn't try to soothe her, for he knew she needed to weep. She'd been carrying a hell of a burden, and it was finally time to let it go. She wasn't alone any longer. He needed to tell her that as soon as she was able to listen to him.