yes?'
'Like I said before. This is none of your business.'
'But I must have my say, because I am now involved.'
'How do you figure that?'
Quinn's voice was flat and unemotional. 'I'll kill you if you try.'
'Any other man, yes. But not me, I think, because I have warned you. You are a fair man, and you'll know that you have only yourself to blame if you lose her.'
'Your time's up, Brandt.'
Without another word, Quinn strode to his carriage, rousing the napping coachman with a none too gentle kick before he pushed him to the side and grabbed the reins himself. Gravel sprayed from the wheels as the carriage tore off down the drive.
Quinn was halfway to Televea before he changed his mind and turned the horses toward Kate Malloy's, where he got quietly and thoroughly drunk. When he got home, he found his own bed empty and the door that connected their rooms firmly locked against him.
Grimly he pulled back his foot, ready to break it down, but then he stopped himself. What was the use? She had seen him kissing Anna, and he was damned if he owed her any explanations. She wasn't going to lead him around on a leash like a trained dog! It was time she understood that he didn't need her. God damn it, he didn't need anyone!
Chapter Thirty-six
Wolf Brandt and Anna von Furst were quickly accepted by Cape Crosse society. The women of the community were delighted to have a baroness in their midst, even one as aloof as Anna, but they barely knew what to make of her handsome brother, who kissed their hands so elegantly and smiled at them in a way that sent blood rushing to their cheeks.
Even Emily Lester was not unaffected. One November afternoon, she laughingly confided to Noelle, 'You know how I love Julian, but I declare, that Mr. Brandt gives me naughty thoughts. The same ones, as a matter of fact, that I had about Quinn when I was sixteen!'
Noelle laughed with her but then quickly changed the subject, for she didn't want to discuss either her husband or Wolf Brandt with Emily. Since the disastrous evening with Brandt and Anna, she and Quinn had barely seen each other. At the few social functions they could not avoid attending, the strain between them was almost intolerable. Riding in a closed carriage at his side, walking into a room on his arm, sitting across the dinner table from him, all of these were difficult enough, but even worse were those moments when something happened to amuse them both, and they would catch each other's eyes in an instant of total communication only to remember what was between them and quickly turn away.
Noelle decided that she could no longer remain in Cape Crosse, but having made her decision, she did no more.
November turned into December. It seemed that wherever they went, they met Wolf and Anna. Noelle was forced to admit that there was no way she could fault Anna's behavior in public. She treated Noelle politely and was as formal with Quinn as she was with the other men in the community. No one suspected that they were more than acquaintances. As for Wolf Brandt, Noelle was growing to depend on him more each day.
They came across each other so frequently when she was riding Chestnut Lady that they no longer bothered pretending the meetings were accidental. She felt easy with him. He made no demands on her, never pressed her for more than she was willing to give, never touched her except to take her hand when they met. When she was with him, she felt the sadness lift from her and, along with it, the sense of lethargy that seemed to have claimed her. Something of it must have shown in her face, because when they would meet at the shipyard, she could feel Quinn's eyes boring into her, watching the two of them, the warning clear in his cold, probing gaze. More than anything, Noelle wanted to fall in love with Brandt. Then, she knew, Quinn would have finally lost his hold on her.
It didn't happen. Instead, she came to the painful realization that her love for Quinn had more than one easy dimension. She loved the body of him, the taste and feel and sex of him. But those were all transient and, given time and distance, would surely fade. It was the deeper facet of her love for him that she knew would not be given up so easily, for she had come to love the man he could be if he were only free of the bitterness that shackled him, the bitterness that turned honest laughter into mockery, pride into arrogance, and anger into contempt.
January came and with it, Wheeler and Thea Talbot's ball. As Noelle left the bedroom where the women were straightening their gowns and touching up their hair, she heard a soft giggle. Peering around the comer to investigate, she saw a small towhead pressed against the far edge of the railing that circled the stairwell. It was a good hiding place. The corner was dark, and there was a skirted table that concealed her from the view of the well-dressed guests who passed in the hallway below. She spun around as she heard the rustling gown behind her.
'You needn't look so guilty,' Noelle whispered. 'I won't tell on you.'
Eight-year-old Elizabeth Talbot regarded her shyly. 'I just couldn't go to bed until I'd seen everybody.'
'No, of course you couldn't,' Noelle solemnly agreed.
'You look like a princess, Mrs. Copeland.'
'Thank you.' She smiled, noting with some amusement that 'princess' was not the easiest word to manage for a little girl who had two front teeth missing.
'I never saw a dress with feathers on it. They look like they're tickling your chest.'
'They are, Elizabeth,' Noelle said, laughing, for the fine snowy plumes were indeed pleasantly tickling her shoulders and the swelling tops of her breasts. She pulled up a small wooden stool and sat chatting quietly and looking out over the hallway below with the child.
'There's Mr. Copeland!' Elizabeth exclaimed as the butler admitted Quinn.
The excitement in her voice told Noelle that the little girl had a childish crush on her husband. It seemed that youth offered no immunity to his fascination.
'Why didn't he come with you?'
'H-he had to work late, so I traveled with Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.'
'I think Mr. Copeland is the handsomest man in Cape Crosse. Do you think he is?'
'Well, I-yes, I suppose he is.'
They sat silently and watched the brightly colored pattern of people pass beneath them, their thoughts traveling in remarkably similar directions. As the orchestra began to play Elizabeth's small, bare feet tapped out the rhythm on the carpet. Finally, unable to resist the music, she stood and spun around, her nightdress billowing out to reveal thin, pale calves.
'When I grow up, I want to marry someone just like Mr. Copeland and go to a ball and wear a white dress with pretty white feathers on it and have silver slippers on my feet and dance and drink champagne and-'
'What's this? I thought all of the beautiful women were downstairs.'
Mortified, Elizabeth stopped where she was. Blushing to the roots of her pale hair, she dropped Quinn an awkward curtsy.
Quickly Noelle came to the child's rescue. 'Doesn't Elizabeth move gracefully? It's a shame children aren't permitted in the ballroom.'
'Perhaps we'll just have to move the ballroom up here. May I have the pleasure of this dance?'
Elizabeth's eyes flew to Noelle. She smiled her encouragement.
Quinn bowed solemnly and then took Elizabeth in his arms. She was such a tiny child and he so large that Noelle should have been amused, but she wasn't. Instead, she felt tears gathering behind her lids at the courtesy and gentleness with which he led the young girl in the long white nightgown through the steps of the dance. If only
