Betrayed, page 24
part #2 of The Cuvier Widows Series
He took his mother's arm and wanted to whisper something to her, but Nicole stayed right behind them, following closely.
When they arrived in the dining room, he pulled out a chair and seated his mother at the table. His father walked into the dining room, carrying a glass of some kind of alcohol.
“Well, if it isn't just like old times,” his father said, clearly under the influence of alcohol as he gazed at Audra.
Oh, God, Max thought. He glimpsed at Nicole, but she was staring at his father. He should have told her before now. He should never have kept this from her, but been honest from the very beginning. Apprehension seized him and he tried to think of any excuse to end this evening, but came up blank.
Max took Nicole by the arm; she barely glanced at him as he seated her at the end of the table.
His mother smiled. “Yes, it is; we're with our son, his new wife, and we're at Rosewood.” She frowned and then scolded, “Sit down, Charles, before you fall down. I'd hoped your drinking wouldn't ruin our first night here.”
Max watched his father raise a brow at his mother and then nod at her as he saluted her with his glass. “Whatever you say, Princess.”
Often, his father called his mother Princess, usually when he was drunk or he wanted to irritate her. Obviously his parents intended to show Nicole their worst behavior the first night they were here. Unease trickled through Max and he feared it could be a dreadfully long evening. Why did they have to come today? If only they'd given him until the end of the harvest. But his mother knew the end of the harvest signaled the beginning of the party season and she wanted to be back among the people who lived along the River Road. She wanted to show that her family occupied their rightful place once again.
He should have told Nicole long before now. But their last few weeks together had been so idyllic that he hadn't wanted to ruin them.
“Where's Paul?” Nicole asked Max.
“He's in the barn helping Moses take care of the horses. He'll join us later.” Max knew Paul had deliberately found an excuse not to dine with the family tonight. His grandmother had a bad habit of trying to teach Paul the art of table manners in front of everyone.
Marie came through the door bringing in the platters of food, set them down on the table, and then departed the room.
Max glanced at Nicole. She seemed so solemn, so quiet this evening, and he couldn't tell if her quietness was because of his parents or something much worse.
After Marie left, Audra looked at Nicole. “Are we to fill our own plates?”
“Since it's usually only the three of us, we've never been formal. If you'd like I could call Marie back and ask her to fill your plate,” Nicole said, her tone almost sarcastic.
Max cringed. His mother must feel that her status had been restored and intended to play the role of the high society matron to the hilt. She seemed to have forgotten those lean years after the sale of Rosewood. The years of living modestly on little money until Max's brokerage had made them quite wealthy.
“No, thank you. I can help myself,” Audra said. “It's just that when—”
“How was the weather when you left New Orleans?” Max asked, interrupting his mother.
She glanced at him oddly and frowned. “You're not that far away from there to know that the weather has turned cooler and is very nice this time of year.” She tilted her head at him. “You have been acting very odd, Maxim. Are you feeling well?”
He chuckled nervously, thinking if only she knew that right now he sat on pins and needles, wishing he were anywhere but here. “I'm fine, just worried about one of our field hands. He was snake bitten this afternoon.”
Audra held up her hand. “Don't discuss it, please. I hate snakes.”
Max glanced at Nicole. She seemed withdrawn and remote, as though her mind dwelled some other place. For a moment silence filled the room as they sat eating. She probably felt nervous meeting his family for the first time.
“Maxim, tell us how you met, Nicole.” his mother said. She turned to Nicole. “She was very secretive when we spoke of your marriage this afternoon. For years I've tried to get him to settle down and marry, but he's refused. Then suddenly he comes home to Rosewood and he marries.”
“Mother, if you would let me speak, I would tell you,” he replied tartly, feeling like a noose hung around his neck.
“Well?” she said, waiting.
Nicole had been quiet all through dinner. He glanced at her and she looked at him, her brows raised. “I thought your mother would rather hear you tell her how we met.”
Max swallowed, feeling like a condemned man. “We met in town at the mercantile. Nicole needed some help and I offered to assist her. From there it was just a matter of time until we married.”
“Dear, you left out the most interesting part,” Nicole said in a quiet voice.
One glance at Nicole confirmed that his world was crumbling beneath him. “What part is that?”
“The part where you told me you were a drifter,” she said, staring at him, her blue eyes burning with anger.
His mother laughed. “Why would you tell this poor girl that you were a drifter, Maxim?” his mother asked as she dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “I'm sorry, Nicole, for laughing, but that is so funny. Whatever made you say such a thing, Maxim?”
Max felt his insides turn cold. The food he'd been pushing around his plate stared back at him. He lifted his gaze to see Nicole staring at him, all the hurt he'd never wanted to put in her eyes glaring at him.
Oh, God, she knew the truth.
“Mother, stop it!" he said, wishing there was some way he could end this debacle.
She put down her napkin and frowned at him. “Whatever is wrong with you? Did you really tell her that you were a drifter?”
Nicole said nothing and he glanced at her anxiously. Her gaze met his with an intense stare that burned him all the way to his heart. She knew. She'd known since this afternoon. That's why she'd been so cool to him. But did she know about the plantation?
“Mother, Nicole assumed I was a drifter and I never told her any different. I should have told her the truth before now. I didn't think you would arrive so soon.”
“What do you mean, ‘so soon'? I've been waiting now for several months to come visit the home I loved. I'd have been here sooner if it hadn't been for your father and your curt note.”
Max glanced at Nicole quickly. He had to tell her now. He stood. “Excuse us; I need to speak with Nicole in private.”
His mother gasped. “Well I never would have thought that my son would leave the dinner table on our first night here.”
Max ignored her and walked around to Nicole's chair. “Nicole, please come with me. There's something I need to say to you in private.”
She gazed up at him and he could see the fear and anger sparkling in the blue depths of her eyes and it chilled him.
Nicole stood her back rigid and straight as he took her elbow and led her outside on the verandah. Her body was stiff and as soon as they were outside alone, she turned upon him.
“Twice now your mother has referred to Rosewood like she's been here before. What besides the fact that you're not a drifter have you not told me?” she said, anger spilling from her.
He took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hand. A cool breeze blew across the field from the river, clanking the spirit bottles together. By now he'd grown accustomed to the sound and he welcomed their clatter.
“What's going on that you have not told me?”
Max cleared his throat, his mouth feeling dry and cottony. There was no way he could get out of telling her any longer, and he wished to God he'd been honest before now. He sighed. “My family once owned Rosewood.”
Nicole blinked and then she turned her back to him and gripped the railing around the verandah with both of her hands. “When?”
“My great-great-grandfather built Rosewood. My grandfather lost it after the Civil War. My mother grew up here,” he said, wishing he could ease the pain he saw in the tense, rigid stance of her body.
For a moment she said nothing, then she whirled around to face him, the realization of everything showing upon her face. She glanced at him, blinking as if blinders had been removed from her eyes. “Why would you lie to me about being a drifter? Unless ... you didn't want me to realize you wanted Rosewood back.” She stared at him, her blue eyes wide with incredulity. “You married me for the plantation, didn't you!”
“I had no choice,” he said. “It was my family obligation. I'd tried several times to buy the plantation from you, but you refused.”
Her eyes grew wide. “You were the one who sent me those letters requesting to buy Rosewood? But your name wasn't listed on the letters.”
“I had my lawyers contact you,” he said quietly.
She clenched her fists, her blue eyes furious. “Damn you, Maxim Viel! Damn you to hell! I didn't want to sell!” She said, her voice rising angrily. “You're no better than Jean!”
She lifted her skirts and hurried down the stairs, running through the kitchen garden down the moonlit path.
The spirit bottles clanged in the breeze, the sound haunting and eerie.
For a moment he watched her go, thinking that maybe she needed a little time. But he couldn't stand the thought of her all alone, hurting this way. He rushed down the stairs, running after her. With a fleeting look in the darkness, he caught a brief glance of her running through the woods. The gazebo.
He ran after her, hastening along the path to the garden tucked away behind some trees. Racing across the bridge, he wanted to call her name, but feared she wouldn't stop if she thought he followed her.
When he reached the little building he found her sitting in the dark crying.
“Nicole,” he said, wanting to hold her but knowing she wouldn't welcome his touch.
“You bastard! How could you marry me knowing how much I was hurting from Jean's deception? Did you think that I'm such easy prey that you could take advantage of me too?”
Max cringed inwardly at the pain in her voice. He deserved her hatred and more.
“No, nothing like that at all. I tried to buy the plantation from you, but you refused to work with my lawyers.”
“I didn't want to sell!” she cried. “Did you just not understand that Rosewood belonged to me now?”
He took a deep breath. “I know, but since the time I was a young boy, I was raised with the purpose of getting Rosewood back in my family. When you wouldn't talk to my lawyers, I came to town to try to speak with you. And then you got sick that day in town and I helped you. And then later, you asked me to marry you and I couldn't turn away from the chance of getting Rosewood back for my family.”
She sobbed in the darkness. “Did you ever consider my feelings, what I wanted?”
“You needed a father for the baby and I saw the chance to get Rosewood for my family. It seemed like the perfect solution at the time,” he said, sitting down on the bench across from her. He wanted to touch her, to help her understand. “I was going to be a better husband to you than Jean.”
“If you were going to be a better husband than Jean, then you should have been honest with me. Did you even once think of telling me the truth?” she asked, her blue eyes staring at him, her face tear- streaked.
He ran his hand through his hair. “I was afraid you wouldn't marry me.”
She wiped the tears from her eyes. “Of course I would never have married you, because I would fear that you would never end—” She stopped and stared at him. “You never had any intention of ending this marriage, did you? You planned on convincing me to let you stay. You lying bastard.”
He couldn't answer. If he did he knew it would be a lie and he'd already lied way too much.
Nicole stood, her body trembling, her eyes large and furious as she stared at him. “You've lied to me about everything. Who you are, your intentions, everything. You're no better than Jean except you didn't involve other women. Take your family and get out now! I want you off my property.”
“No, Nicole. I can't leave you like this.”
“I don't want to see you ever again. I fell in love with you and you betrayed me just like Jean. Get out! Get out now!”
She ran from the gazebo.
“Nicole,” he called after her. “Wait!”
“No, leave me alone,” she cried and hurried through the woods toward the house. “I don't want to see you.”
Max's shoulders slumped. How could it have ended so disastrously?
***
A week passed with Nicole spending much of her time in her room or out at the gazebo. She took her meals in her room, she refused to speak with Max's mother and father, and she never conversed with Max.
The only people she communicated with were the servants, and Marie stared at her worriedly. She'd also come to Nicole several times upset about the orders that Audra had given the servants. Audra, it seemed, wanted to return the plantation to the ways of her childhood and Nicole remained determined that Rosewood would continue to be hers.
Nicole always managed to soothe Marie and tell her to ignore the woman's requests. Soon she would be gone, or so Nicole hoped.
Every night Max would knock on her door and try to coax her into coming out to speak with him. Once he'd even tried to push the door open, but Nicole had locked him out.
She didn't know what to do. Her love for Max still lived within her heart, but she felt so deceived and foolish. She felt as if everything she'd believed about Max was one giant lie. She missed Consuelo fiercely and wished she were here to talk over her choices.
Yet every time she thought of Consuelo, she couldn't help but remember that Max now owned the plantation. That no matter how she'd tried to circumvent this from happening, he'd still managed to get ownership of the land. And he'd never intended to end their marriage. That thought alone left her furious at his obvious deception.
She felt like such a fool. Twice people had mentioned his family living in the area and each time she'd brushed off their memories as nothing of consequence. Yet their recollections should have warned her.
So what did she do now? How could she continue to live here with Max? With his family?
Nicole sighed. If only he'd been honest with her.
No, if he'd been candid with her she would never have married him. If she'd known that he wanted Rosewood, she would have let her child be born illegitimate. She felt so sad, even her reasons for marrying Max were no longer important. Nothing had worked out as planned.
Part of her wanted to curl up in a ball and just give up on keeping Rosewood, to let Max have the plantation she loved. But the stubborn part of her said he didn't deserve the land. He didn't deserve to have her home. He didn't deserve her love.
No matter what happened between the two of them, she wouldn't give him Rosewood.
The party that signaled the end of the harvest season was four days away and she'd done little to prepare for the event. Eventually she would be forced to come out of her room and kick off the first social gathering of the season here at Rosewood.
She would put on a festive face and show the townspeople that she could be an excellent hostess, while her husband would remain an ornamental object at her side. She may have to live with him, but she didn't have to let him break her heart again. And she didn't have to share her love with him again.
***
Max watched the men picking up the burned cane and loading the stalks into the wagons, his thoughts on Nicole. He didn't know what to do. She'd spent the last week in her room, not speaking to him, refusing to come out. He'd tried to force his way into her room, but she'd locked the door against him.
He missed her. He missed her smile, her laughter, and the way her blue eyes twinkled with happiness. He missed the smell of her in the morning and the way she'd cared about his happiness. Paul kept asking for her, and Max didn't know what to tell him. How could he tell his child that he'd just ruined his bond with a woman he discovered he wanted to keep as his wife?
All his life he'd been charged with the duty of growing up to replenish the familial finances and reclaiming the ancestral home. Everyone from his mother to his grandfather had given him this responsibility. And, though he'd obtained both, he couldn't help but wonder if his sacrifices were worth the pain he saw in Nicole's eyes. Did retaining the family land mean hurting anyone who got in his way?
For the first time he questioned the motives that had convinced him to lie to Nicole. If murder were necessary to retrieve the land, would he also have killed to obtain his goal? No. And he should never have hurt Nicole this way. He was an idiot.
He loved Rosewood, but the plantation belonged to Nicole and his family's time had long since passed.
And his grandfather, who preached to him from the time he was a small boy about his familial commitments, no longer lived. No matter how much his mother could wish it otherwise, she had to leave Rosewood. They all did.
The memory of the simple wedding ceremony where he and Nicole pledged their lives to one another came to mind. All his life had been spent in the pursuit of acquiring this land, yet now that he had the land in his grasp, could attaining Rosewood be worth the hurt that Nicole would suffer? Enduring the hate she would feel for him forever?
He'd missed her so badly this last week. He'd done everything he could to see her. He wanted to speak with her, tell her he was sorry, but she'd shut him out completely. And could he blame her?
The words she'd slung at him as she left him that night in the gazebo distressed him. He didn't want to be compared to Jean, yet his actions, though not similar, were still abhorrent.
In the end, he'd wounded Nicole just as Jean had.
Max missed her, he wanted her, and the world didn't seem like a good place without her. Could he have fallen in love with Nicole? Could he have married her for the land and then she'd taken his heart captive? Nicole was a good woman with a strong spirit that survived life's hardships. A gentle person who somehow showed him the important things in life, like his son and a family home. He wanted her by his side, having his children. He wanted her as his wife, the one person who he could turn to whenever he needed someone to comfort him. He wanted Nicole for her strong spirit and giving ways.
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