Love Be Mine (The Louisiana Ladies Series, Book 3) (26 page)

Her face shuttered and outwardly serene, she said slowly, "I see. Business would, of course, be a priority with you."

"It is why I came to New Orleans in the first place—or have you forgotten?" he asked curtly. Her apparent indifference to his decision to remain in the city was a lash on his already uncertain temper, and he was stunned at how angry he was at her reaction. He never got angry! And not over something so silly as a woman's tone of voice. Scowling, he quickened his pace. The separation couldn't come quickly enough for him. He wasn't going to push himself where he wasn't wanted.

It was a silent, tense, ride back to New Orleans, and Micaela longed for the easy companionship they had shared during their outward journey. She should not be hurt over his decision, she told herself repeatedly. She knew he had married her for business reasons, and she should be grateful that he had been as kind and considerate to her as he had been. The problem was, she didn't feel very grateful—she felt abandoned. Deserted. And very angry.

Dinner that evening was a stiff, stilted affair. Neither of them could wait for it to be over. It was with relief that they departed the dining room. For the first time since their marriage, Hugh went out, leaving Micaela home alone. More telling, it was also the first night that they slept in separate bedrooms.

Staring dry-eyed at the linen canopy over her bed, Micaela tried to tell herself she was glad that he was finally showing his true colors. Elated that there was no longer any pretense between them. Now she understood precisely where she stood. Their marriage was nothing more than a business arrangement to him. Oh, he was generous and had treated her considerately; he had done his duty by her and now, except for occasional visits to her bedroom when the mood struck him, she would simply be his social hostess. Despair crashed down on her, and her heart felt like ice in her chest. Even worse, she feared that these emotions would visit her often in the coming years, for she realized with a stab of anguish that she had committed the greatest folly of all and had fallen deeply in love with her husband.

Chapter 12

The constraint which had risen between them the day they visited the Justine property did not dissipate during the following week. Like an untreated wound, it festered and throbbed, and the distance and chilliness between them grew, until they each stood on opposite sides of an ever-widening, ever-deepening chasm.

Micaela retreated behind an icily polite barrier. So hurt by his defection from her bed, and by the bitter knowledge that he seemed thoroughly content to banish her to the country, she couldn't do anything but act as if it was a matter of supreme indifference to her. Briefly she considered discussing the situation with Lisette, but in the end she decided against it. Micaela had a great deal of pride, and things would have to get much worse before she ran to Lisette like a child with her difficulties. Certainly her mother could not change the fact that she had been fool enough to fall in love with him—which only made her more sensitive and wounded by the situation and unwilling to discuss it with anyone. Determined never to let him know how very much he had come to mean to her, vowing never to let him know how deeply he had hurt her, she kept a cool smile firmly planted on her lips and treated him with a scrupulously polite manner. Seeing the serene expression on her lovely face, no one would have ever guessed that she felt as if she were dying inside.

For Hugh the situation was not much better. If anything it was worse, because it had been his decision to abandon her bed and his decision not to accompany her to the Justine property, and he was bitterly aware of it. But having carved out a position, he found himself with no way of retreating—not without sinking his pride, and God knew his wife gave him no indication that she would care if he
did
sink his pride and ingratiate himself into her bed. After allowing his anger to dictate he sleep alone that first night, Hugh found himself unable to stride into her room the next night and resume his place in her bed, though he wanted to badly. There was too much unsaid between them, and he was damned if he was going to apologize for deciding to remain in the city. With righteous indignation, he told himself that he had business to attend to, and Micaela was just going to have to learn to accept it. His decision was a logical and necessary one, and yet he would concede that he would have given much to change the situation. But in the face of her indifference, he found the conciliatory words dying on his lips. He cursed himself for a weak-willed creature, but every day it became harder and harder to reestablish the rapport of their first weeks of marriage.

The time had passed swiftly, however, and both had been busy. Frustrated and angry at the increasing distance between them, yet unable to breach it, Hugh had buried himself in work at the firm. It was very late most nights when he returned home. Micaela, hiding the ache in her heart, had spent several mornings, with Lisette at her side, picking out furnishings and whatnots for the new house. There had been packing to oversee and the partial closing of the house in the city to manage. Hugh, never realizing that each word was more salt rubbed into Micaela's already wounded sensibilities, had stated that he did not intend to spend a great deal of time at the house, that he would be occupied with business the majority of the time and that he only needed a few rooms for his own use. The rest of the house could be closed, the rugs rolled up; the furniture stacked and protected by dustcovers until Micaela's return in the fall. Except for a few servants necessary for Hugh's comfort, the remainder would be put to work on the Justine property.

Since everything needed from the town house had been sent ahead, that last morning in New Orleans, there was nothing to be done except for Hugh to escort his wife and mother-in-law to the plantation. The three of them would not have fit comfortably in Hugh's gig and Lisette had sensibly suggested that they use the Dupree family carriage. Hugh readily agreed and made a mental note about seeing to the purchase of a carriage for future use, and perhaps a well-sprung cart for his wife's use. A wry grin crossed his face. It was a good thing, the way he had been spending money lately, he admitted to himself, that his purse
was
a rather full one.

The departure from the city went smoothly, Lisette's chatter covering any silence between the newlyweds. If Lisette had noticed the coolness between Hugh and Micaela, she had not commented on it.

Micaela was grateful for her mother's company. It would have been agony to be alone with Hugh, knowing that these few, precious hours might be the last she would share with him for some time. Without her mother's presence, she might have thrown herself into his arms and begged him not to leave her. She shuddered at the thought. How could she be so weak? And when had she turned into such a mewling, clinging creature?

Reminding herself about the importance of maintaining the facade which she had erected this past week, she straightened in the seat, and said, "I am so pleased that you are going to be staying with me,
Maman.
I shall be glad of your advice on some of the furnishings and their placement in the house on the Justine property."

"Are you always going to call your new home the 'Justine property'?" Lisette asked. "I believe when
Madame
Justine's husband built the new house for her, he named the place
Par Amour.
I have always thought it a most romantic name. Will you keep the name, do you think?"

A sardonic expression crossed Hugh's face.
Par Amour!
For Love! He nearly laughed aloud. Nothing could be farther from the truth. He and his bride were not in a state of armed war, but they were not far from it.

"It has a nice ring to it," he said carelessly. His eyes on Micaela's averted features, he asked politely, "What do you think, my dear?"

For a brief second their eyes met. Then glancing away from the steady gray gaze, Micaela murmured, "It sounds fine. Whatever you think is best."

"Well then," Hugh said with false heartiness, "our new home is no longer the Justine property, but
Par Amour."

The trip passed swiftly, the day pleasant despite the increasing heat and humidity. Any awkwardness between Hugh and Micaela was covered by Lisette's enthusiasm for the journey and her excitement to see the house. A rapt expression on her face when the main building came into view, she exclaimed, "Ah,
petite,
it is everything I could have wished for you. It is beautiful! And you say that there is a lake, too? We shall have a wonderful summer here,
oui?"

Micaela forced a gay note into her voice. "Oh,
oui, Maman!
There will be much for us to do and explore."

Hugh felt a stab of envy. He would have, he realized, given much to be the one to discover the delights of the property with his wife. It was obvious, however, that his wife could hardly wait to see the last of him. He scowled.

Having seen Micaela and Lisette settled into the house, and having been treated to more of Micaela's indifference, Hugh decided that there was no reason to continue to inflict his unwanted presence upon her. After a light repast, Hugh rose from the table, which was situated on the charming, flower-ringed terrace at the side of the house and said abruptly, "I think I should start back to the city now." He sent Micaela a long look. "There is no reason for me to remain any longer."

Micaela's face froze. Concealing the knife blade of agony that had gone through her at his words, she said calmly, "Naturally, you wish to be back in the city." She flashed him a blinding smile, and added, "We shall not keep you." Only she knew how much it cost her to act so careless.

Hugh's jaw tightened. "Will you walk with me to the carriageway?" He glanced at Lisette's serene face. "Do you mind if I take your daughter away for a few minutes,
madame?"'

Lisette smiled at him. "I would have been surprised if you did not seek a private moment in which to say good-bye. Go."

Micaela schooled herself to remain outwardly sedate, a polite smile firmly plastered on her lips, but inwardly... ah, inwardly, she was fighting the urge to clasp his arm, his hand, and plead with him that he not leave her like this. That he stay and they attempt to heal this horrible, stupid rift that had grown up so suddenly between them.

When they reached the front of the house where the coach and horses were waiting for him, Hugh stopped and stared down at Micaela, his face unreadable. "If you need anything..."

"If I need anything," she said calmly, her heart aching and bleeding inside of her, "I shall write to you and let you know." Her fingernails were biting into the palms of her clasped hands to keep them from touching him, and her throat was tight with unshed tears. Ah,
Dieu,
but this was killing her!

A silence fell between them and Micaela was horrified to hear herself asking, "When shall we expect your return?"

"Does it matter?" Hugh inquired coolly, smarting from her nonchalant attitude. They would not see each other for several weeks. Couldn't she at least act as if she would miss him a little? Harshly, he said, "I think you and your mother will do just fine without me, and I intend to be very busy."

"Of course, I do not doubt it for a moment," she retorted, her fingernails almost drawing blood at the effort not to touch him.

"Then I suppose we have nothing; else to say, do we?"

"Non!"

His mouth grim, Hugh started for the coach, then abruptly he swung around. "The hell with this!" he snarled, and dragged Micaela into his arms.

He kissed her a long time, his mouth plundering and pleasuring at the same time. Her lips parted for him and without volition her arms crept around his neck and her body swayed into his. They remained locked together for endless minutes, then, with a muttered oath, Hugh thrust her from him. His eyes glittering with tightly controlled emotion, he muttered, "Something to remind you of me while I am gone!"

Without another word, he leaped into the coach and barked out the command to leave.

Her mouth swollen from his kiss, Micaela stood staring until the coach disappeared from sight, unaware of the tears leaking from her eyes. She was so lost in her own misery that she didn't hear Lisette softly call her name or hear her mother's approach. It wasn't until she felt her mother's arms around her shoulders that she became aware of her presence.

"Oh,
Maman!"
she sobbed. "I just want to die! Everything is so awful, and I do not think it can ever be fixed!"