Love, Come to Me(104)

“And I’ll be right by his side.” Lucy stared at her without blinking. “I’ll follow him wherever he goes.”

“You couldn’t fit in where he belongs. Not if you stayed there a hundred years.” Suddenly Raine’s control broke and contempt edged her voice, making her sound curiously young. “How did you get him to marry you? You’re nothing like the women he was brought up with. He never showed any interest at all in your kind—”

“Until he decided he wanted to get married.”

Raine was speechless. She looked at Lucy’s small, set face for a long time, and then her expression went blank, as if a shutter had been drawn closed. “You must accept my apology, Lucinda. I didn’t mean to fly off the handle . . . I didn’t know what I was saying. I have been . . . upset since Clay’s death. I have not been myself.” Lucy nodded warily, pushing her chair back and standing up. Slowly Raine did the same. “Let’s forget all about our talk this morning. You won’t mention it to anyone, I hope.”

“Not unless I see the need to.”

Raine bit her lip, looking defenseless and lost. “Forgive me for what I said. Any fool could see that you’re a good wife to Heath.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Lucy said, finding to her disgust that there was nothing she could do but be courteous in the face of Raine’s distress. Oh, if only she could say what she really thought! “You have been through a difficult time. I can only imagine what it would be like to lose a husband.” She paused deliberately before adding, “In fact, just thinking about it makes me appreciate what I have all the more.”

“I’m glad to hear that you appreciate Heath. He is a very special man. I’ve always thought so.”

“According to Amy, you were married to a very special man yourself.”

“Yes. Clay was quite something.” There was little sign of emotion on Raine’s face. “At one time you could have said that Clay and Heath favored each other. But the war changed them both. Clay went in one direction, and Heath in the other. They both surprised us all.”

Feeling chilled by the odd silver gleam in the other woman’s eyes, Lucy nodded and turned away. She would have been even more disturbed had she seen the smile that curved Raine’s soft mouth as she left the room.

That night Lucy acknowledged privately that the situation was going to be even more of a strain than she had anticipated. She was desperate to be alone with Heath, but they didn’t have the time or the opportunity for that. Their guests seemed to have a monopoly on his attention, and she had barely exchanged ten words with him since he had gotten home. When they all retired for the evening, Lucy emerged from her bath, slipped on a robe and went to the bedroom with the intention of talking with him. She was just in time to see Raine’s slim silhouette in the semidarkness of the hallway. The muffled sound of drawers sliding open and shut came from inside the room as Heath prepared for bed. Unaware of her astounded audience, Raine opened the door quietly.

Pure outrage swept over Lucy. What did Raine think she was doing? What did she intend to accomplish? This was too much! Never in her life had Lucy felt the urge to attack someone physically, but at the moment she longed to put her hands on the dangling nut brown ringlets that adorned Raine’s head and pull them out one by one.

“Raine,” Lucy said, and the quiet, crisp snap of her voice caused the other woman to freeze in the middle of stepping through the doorway. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Oh . . . ,” Raine said, and blushed brightly, looking around in confusion. “Goodness, I . . . well, I just can’t find my way around here. There are so many rooms, and . . . I must have gotten myself turned around the wrong way. I’m so sorry—”

The door swung open all the way, and Heath stood there in trousers and bare feet, his unbuttoned shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and the trim expanse of his abdomen. Surprise flickered in his eyes as he saw Raine, and then his glance moved to Lucy. “What’s going on?”

“Raine forgot that her room is at the other end of the hallway,” she said softly. “But then, it must be confusing, with all these doors. And it’s such a big house.” She looked at the other woman. “Your room is in that direction, Raine. Next time just remember to turn right at the top of the stairs.”

Raine flushed and murmured an apology, walking to her own room with rustling skirts. A delicate fragrance of flowers floated in her wake. Lucy waited until the graceful feminine figure had disappeared before she fixed Heath with an accusing stare.

He sighed tautly. “Don’t start.”

She swept past him into the bedroom, heading for her dressing table with her chin thrust high. Snatching up a heavy silver brush, she dragged it through the wild chestnut torrent of her hair so roughly that she could feel the scratch of the bristles on her scalp. Heath sat on the bed and watched her silently, his eyes wandering freely over her silk-draped body before returning to her face.

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that she has a rotten sense of direction,” Lucy said through gritted teeth. After slamming down the brush, she separated her hair into locks and began the nightly ritual of braiding it. “This whole situation is ridiculous. I’m a fool for putting up with it.” As Heath said something under his breath, she glared at him. “What did you say?”