Tread softly Page 14

  “This is your home, too,” Rafe thundered, his teeth bared.

  “—then I’ll move to where my friends can feel free to call me.” Cady felt as though her skin were quivering loose from her flesh.

  “Don’t you ever speak like that again!” Rafe ground the words at her. “You’re not leaving me.”

  Relief at his words almost caved her in, but she lifted her chin still higher, not wanting him to know how tearfully grateful she was that he didn’t want her to leave. “Then don’t you dare dictate to me who should call me here. I don’t tell you whom you should speak to. Don’t tell me.”

  “And would you like it if I had women calling here?” Rafe shot back at her.

  “What do you mean, if? They have called,” she fired in return.

  “That’s a damn lie! No woman ever called me here after we married.”

  “That’s the lie,” Cady snapped, fighting against the wobble in her voice. “Lee Terris called here more than once asking for you.” Her lips pressed together as she regretted the words. The last thing she wanted was for Rafe to discover the hurt that lay like a heavy weight deep inside her.

  Rafe stared at her, shaking his head. “Why would Lee call here? We have nothing to talk about. The only times I’ve seen Lee have been when I went to Durra to see my father.”

  “Ah, yes, good old Durra, party house par excellence. Naturally you would see her there.”

  “Damn it, Cady, I meant I saw her there when I visited my father’s home, not when I partied.”

  “For God’s sake, don’t try to explain Durra to me. I haven’t got a devious enough mind to understand that setup.” She gulped down the rest of her wine, glad that the ice had diluted it. She watched Rafe stare at the glass, then back at her face.

  “You rarely drink anything,” he said.

  “You and your family will probably drive me to alcoholism,” she snapped. “Shall we go? I doubt there’s sufficient wine in all of California and New York together to dull my nerves enough to stand an evening with your family.” She sailed past him to the front door.

  “I might find agreement with you there,” Rafe pronounced dryly, holding the door for her, then taking her arm to lead her to the car.

  At any other time the drive through the edge of Maryland hunt country with its stone fences and rolling green hills would have entranced Cady, but as usual just the thought of going to Durra was enough to start her stomach rumbling and her attention centering on the ordeal of a dinner with the Densmores.

  “Cady, would you like to stop somewhere and get something to eat just to stop your stomach from growling?” The amusement in Rafe’s voice annoyed her.

  “Sorry.” She pressed her hand on her abdomen. “No, I don’t want to stop.” It rumbled again.

  Rafe reached over and pressed his hand flat on her stomach, pushing her own out of the way. His fingers kneaded the slightly curved area above her lap.

  She felt stiff at first, wanting to push away his hand, but she had neither the inclination nor the strength to do so. Soon the growling stopped, replaced by the noiseless rumble of sensations deep within her. She bit her lips to keep from pleading with Rafe to stop the car and make love to her right there beside the highway.

  Rafe kept his hand on her the rest of the way, the heat from it penetrating right to her backbone. He lifted his hand only after they had left the highway and turned onto the meandering lane that would take them through the gates of Durra, up the crushed-rock drive to the colonnaded house that stood on a knoll overlooking beautiful fields. Today there were only a few horses to be seen, but Cady leaned forward to get a better look.

  “Would you like to ride after dinner, Cady?”

  “How long are we staying?” she asked warily.

  Rafe shrugged. “Who knows? If it gets boring, we’ll leave right after we eat.”

  Cady turned to look at him. “You’d do that?”

  “I would.” Rafe let the car come to halt on the circular drive, then turned to her. “I won’t let my family bully you ever again, Cady. I think I told you that.”

  “Yes, you did. Thank you for that, Rafe.” Cady turned away, fumbling at the latch on the door, not wanting him to see the tears that were gathering in her eyes.

  “Cady? Cady, wait.” He put his hand on her shoulder, but she wouldn’t turn to look at him. “Cady, can’t we try again? We had something good… ”

  “Your family will be waiting, Rafe.” Cady wrenched free, hearing his muttered oath behind her as she almost leaped from the car. She couldn’t tell him that she wanted to be his sole love, that she not only wanted to try again, she wanted to try forever. But what if he saw the pictures? What would he say? How could she bear the contempt in his eyes. Suspicious of Rob Ardmore as Rafe was, how could she hope he would believe that the pictures were merely cleverly faked?

  She skidded to a halt in front of the door just as Samson opened it. Samson was a fixture at Durra. He had been a prizefighter in his younger days. His real name was Kieron O’Malley, and he had come from the same section of Ireland as Emmett’s people, County Cork. He had retired from the fight ring many years ago, but his professional name, Samson, had stuck, and that was how all visitors to Durra referred to him. He was one of the few people at her father-in-law’s home whom Cady felt comfortable with.

  “Lady Cat’leen, how are you? Come in. If it ain’t his lordship roight behind you. Rafe, boyo, how are you?” Samson laughed as he crushed Rafe’s hand in his and the two of them stood there squeezing for all they were worth. It was a foregone conclusion that Samson’s hamlike hands would win, but, Cady noted with satisfaction, Rafe held his own, making Samson’s color rise. “Spalpeen!” He used the Gaelic slang invective with a grin. “You’re stronger, that’s for sure.” He turned to look at Cady.

  Before Samson could ask his usual question, she spoke. “No, there’s nothing in the oven yet.” And she poked her tongue at the bluff Irishman when both he and Rafe burst out laughing.

  “And are you so sure, colleen? You have a different look to you, I’d swear to it.” Samson laughed harder at the flush on her face.

  Rafe didn’t laugh. He stared at Cady as though he would see deep inside her. He had opened his mouth to speak when a yell from the stairs turned all heads that way.

  “Hey, you two, it’s about time you arrived. I’m starved.” Gareth clattered down the stairs and flung himself at his older brother, trying to wrestle him to the floor. Before he had gotten Rafe into a grip, Cady was there cuffing him behind the ear. “Ouch, Cady. What the hell is the matter with you?”

  “It’s one thing for Samson to hand wrestle Rafe, but you are not going to knock him to the ground.” She shook her finger in her brother-in-law’s face. “He isn’t that strong yet, and I’m not going to stand by and let you undo all the good work that has been done on Rafe just because you’re an overgrown puppy.” She put her hands on her hips and glowered up at Gareth, who rubbed the back of his ear sheepishly.

  Gareth glanced at Rafe and shrugged. “You married a tiger, brother; you’d better watch out. If she decides to come after you, she’ll chew you up.”

  “The only way I’ll go after Rafe is if he doesn’t take care of his health,” Cady said haughtily. Gareth put his nose in the air, trying to imitate her. When she moved to cuff him again, he ducked, and Rafe caught her around the waist.

  “You’ll have my baby brother covered with bruises, darling.” Rafe bent over her, nibbling her ear.

  “Cady’s right.” Gavin came down the stairs in a much more sedate fashion than his ebullient twin. “Rafe’s health is the primary thing. If you weren’t such a thug, Gareth, you’d know it, too.” Gavin smiled as his twin came at him in a crouch, meeting him halfway. Though he was of slighter build than his twin, he was faster and more coordinated.

  They wrestled in the front hall as their father descended the formal curved staircase that made a better setting for an antebellum Southern ball than a wrestling match.

 
“You two get up from there,” Emmett said mildly. watching with obvious pleasure as his progeny bounced off the walls with groans and thuds. “Rafe, my boy, how are you?”

  “Fine, and my wife is fine as well.” Rafe took his father’s outstretched hand in his, his other arm pulling Cady close to his side.

  “Oh? That’s good.” Emmett looked at Cady in the circle of Rafe’s arm and a frown appeared between his eyes. “Lee Terris is here for dinner. I know you’ll be glad to hear that, Rafe.”

  “It’s your house. Ask whom you please.” Rafe’s voice had an edge of irritation that narrowed his father’s gaze on him. But before he could say anything, the door leading to Emmett’s study opened, revealing Bruno Trabold. Emmett turned to look at him, smiling. “And you’ll stay, too, won’t you, Bruno?”

  “Since it’s family, I won’t stay.” Bruno smiled at Emmett, his hooded gaze touching on the rest of the persons gathered there.

  “You’re the same as family,” Emmett roared.

  “Not to me, he isn’t,” the irrepressible Gareth stated, staring back at his glowering father.

  “Me, either,” Gavin echoed.

  “Where are your manners?” Emmett glared at the twins, but he accompanied Bruno to the front door.

  Neither Cady nor Rafe had spoken to Bruno, and he had not acknowledged them.

  Lee Terris floated from the back of the house in time to say she was disappointed that Bruno wasn’t staying. He was such a stimulating conversationalist. Then she shrugged and walked straight to Rafe.

  Gareth stepped in front of her, catching her uplifted arms, then gripping her in a bear hug. “I love it when you get physical, Lee, baby.” He gave her a resounding smack on the lips.

  Although Lee smiled when Gavin laughed, Cady could see the angry glitter in her eyes.

  Emmett herded them into the ballroom-size front room, where the priceless Sheraton furniture that had been collected by Rafe’s mother was interspersed with overstuffed couches that would bear the weight of men like the Densmores, who demanded comfort over style.

  Samson served the drinks. He was quick to make Cady’s mineral water and lime and serve it to her even as Emmett muttered about the milksop swill drunk by his daughter-in-law. The boys drank beer. Lee Terris had a martini. Rafe and his father drank Irish whiskey with no ice and little water.

  When Rafe’s sisters arrived in a swirl of children and subdued husbands, Samson bustled about fixing drinks for them as well. He made a pitcher of sweet Manhattans for Aileen and Aveen and their husbands. For the children—two boys and a girl—he poured root beer that he himself had made into old-fashioned glass mugs.

  “Cady, that dress! It’s lovely.” Aveen said it as if she were offended.

  Gareth crept up behind Cady. “What a traitor you are, Cady. Being well dressed when you should look dowdy.” His voice went an octave higher. “My dear, you will never get along in this world if you’re going to be fashionable, intelligent, and gorgeous.” His voice was loud enough so that both Aveen and Aileen looked at him and frowned.

  “Don’t be a bigger fool than you can help, Gareth,” Aileen said repressively, looking at him down her long, thin nose.

  “Don’t try any of those schoolmarm airs with me, sister dear,” Gareth shot back. “I’m not your husband… and I won’t be trounced on by your size-ten shoes.”

  Aileen seemed to swell. Gareth’s chin jutted forward. Gavin made a move toward his twin. Cady stared at Aileen’s husband, David Bailey. His face had taken on an ugly crimson cast as he looked from his brother-in-law to his wife and back again.

  Without thinking, Cady walked to Dave’s side and took hold of his arm. He looked down at her, an angry glitter in his eyes. “I don’t know how you’ve kept from tying her up and putting her in the attic all these years,” Cady said lightly, grinning up at him.

  He put one hand over hers, his expression relaxing. “Maybe that’s exactly what I will do.” He looked back at his wife, who now stood nose to nose facing her brother, their voices low but still piercing enough to have turned the heads of the children. “Aileen, shut up and sit down. Now.” Dave’s voice wasn’t loud, but it penetrated the heated argument and the concentration of most of the others in the room. His two children, two-year-old Mara and ten-year-old Emmett, stared at their father, mouths agape, circles of root beer on their lips. Aileen started as though someone had stuck a pin in her. Emmett scowled. Aveen looked affronted; her husband, Harrison Colby, looked hopeful.

  Aileen turned slowly away from a surprised Gareth, a wide-eyed Gavin at his side muttering, “That tears it.” She drew herself up to her full height, her nostrils flaring as her mouth opened to speak.

  “And don’t bother to begin one of your long-winded discourses, either.” Dave spoke through his teeth. “I’m fed up with it and I’m fed up with your damn argumentative family.” He jabbed his finger at her. “And if you make one comment, I’ll take the kids and get out of here and you can stay in this bear’s den.”

  The silence would have been total if it weren’t for Rafe going to the bar, pouring a drink, and carrying it to his brother-in-law, saluting him with it before handing it to him.

  “What the hell do you mean talking to my daughter that way?” Emmett came alive out of his stunned silence.

  “If you don’t like it, I’ll leave.” Dave took a long swallow of his drink, the tremor in his hand barely discernible to Cady. “And if I do, I’m not coming back.”

  “How dare you!” Aveen sputtered, starting to step forward.

  All at once Aveen’s husband, Harrison, rose and took hold of her arm. “Mind your own business, Aveen. If you say anything else, I’ll leave with Dave.”

  Rafe went back to the bar, made another drink, and handed it to his other brother-in-law, saluting him in the same way.

  Aileen and Aveen stared at their husbands while Emmett’s color fluctuated from magenta to scarlet to putty.

  Samson reentered the room, ran a quick eye around, cleared his throat, and announced, “Dinner. It’s hot.”

  Dave took another swallow of his drink and offered his arm to Cady. Harrison came up on her other side and took hold of her other hand. “Warmonger,” he whispered. “I haven’t felt so good being at Durra in a long, long time.” He grinned over her head at Dave. They strolled past Emmett through the double-doored archway into the spacious dining room. The others followed in desultory fashion.

  When they were all seated, the children included, since Emmett insisted that his grandchildren dine with their elders when they came to Durra, Rafe rose to his feet, wineglass in hand. “I’d like to propose a toast. To my wife, Cady, who takes on all comers and wins.” He gave Cady an enigmatic smile, then emptied his wineglass in two long swallows.

  Her two brothers-in-law and the twins jumped to their feet as well and shouted, “To Cady,” then quaffed their wine. Then they looked at the sisters and Emmett.

  Emmett’s mouth worked as though he had hot peppers in it, but he raised his glass and mumbled, “To Cady.” Aileen and Aveen took deep breaths, watching their husbands as though they had turned into tigers before their eyes. “To Cady,” the cold voices echoed. Lee Terris reluctantly did the same.

  The conversation at dinner was not the usual. The norm at Durra was for Aileen and Aveen to hold forth on every subject, deferring only to their father. Tonight, as though someone had untied their tongues, Dave and Harrison took the conversational gambit between their teeth and worried it like puppies with a bone. Cady would have been deeply impressed with the knowledge and scope of her brothers-in-law if she hadn’t been so immersed in her own misery.

  After the first shock of hearing their in-laws discourse on the advantages of having technicians from Germany in their factories, Gavin and Gareth jumped in with their own animated accounts of skiing in Germany the previous year and how intrepid they had found the Germans on the slopes.

  Cady laughed with the others from time to time, but she felt her husband’s eyes on her, t
hat blue-gray peeling back her skin and picking apart her mind. She was convinced that if Rafe chose to, he could indeed read her mind.

  When dessert was offered, Cady declined, contenting herself with the grapes that accompanied the cheese board. Her stomach seemed to be doing flip-flops, and she had a full, uncomfortably swollen feeling.

  All at once she sat straight up in her chair, heat rising from her toes and the tips of her fingers. She hadn’t had a period in quite a while. Even discounting her totally irregular cycle, she should have had one by now. What was it Samson had said to her earlier? She had a different look to her tonight. Could that superstitious Irishman have seen what she hadn’t yet guessed?

  “My dear Cady, you look positively green,” Lee Terris cooed from her place across the table. “I hope you’re not going to condemn the cooking at Durra.” The superbly groomed brunette sipped at her wine. “It doesn’t seem to bother you if you insult the Densmores.” The voice had a velvet lilt that just carried to Emmett’s ears.

  “I wouldn’t like anyone coming to Durra and insulting me.” He seemed still to be simmering from the actions of his sons-in-law.

  Gavin leaned close to Cady, his body like a protective shield. “Cady didn’t say anything.” He looked over at Lee, his face contorting in dislike. “And I don’t know where the hell you got the idea that you could come here and insult anyone. If you insult my sister-in-law, I’ll take it personally.”

  Rafe’s body seemed to stiffen as he caught fragments of what Gavin was saying. He was too far up the table to have heard it all, but the grim look on his face when he glanced from his brother to Lee boded ill for someone.

  Lee looked at Rafe, her smile strained. “I think this silly conversation has gone far enough. Aileen, do tell us about the Christmas party planned at Bethesda.”

  “Don’t forget the Christmas party I’m having here,” Emmett interrupted. “Lee is helping me with it, and I expect you all to attend.”

  The evening wound down early. Cady had a feeling she wasn’t the only one glad to see it come to an end.