but the desire to persist burned in him like a well-stoked fire.
She stared into her tea. “His concern for others. He was a warm, generous man.”
“Generous with Halliday money,” he agreed.
Her lips flattened into a line of displeasure, and she looked up. “When we met, I had no idea that Stephen had resources.”
“No idea, Claire?”
“You didn’t have much respect for your brother, did you?” she asked, taking him by surprise.
“Why do you ask?”
“You thought him foolish enough to marry a woman who was out for his fortune.”
“Are you?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I denied it.”
Nicholas held his cup by the rim, and considered the truth of her words. “Let’s just say my brother didn’t always make the wisest decisions.”
“The decisions you wanted him to make, in other words.”
He set the cup down, glanced at the waning fire and got up to add a log that should burn most of the night. He was deliberately inciting her. He was grieving for his brother and her presence irritated him, so he baited her.
“How does this new life compare to the one you had in New York?” he asked.
“My life is nothing like it was before. Nor is it anything like I anticipated it being.”
“In what way?”
“In the obvious way. Stephen is gone.”
“He took you to Europe before bringing you to meet his family. Didn’t you think that was odd?”
“Not at all. If you treated him with as much disdain as you treat me, he wouldn’t have had a pleasant start for his honeymoon. Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Treat him with disdain.”
He didn’t like anyone turning the tables on him. “Didn’t he tell you all about his family?” he asked.
“No. He didn’t. I didn’t know anything about you until I was almost here.”
“So you just fell head over heels in love with my brother and married him without knowing his background or even whether or not he was capable of taking care of you. Didn’t you wonder how he earned a living? Or if he did?”
“I knew about his plays. They were successful productions in the East.”
“So you thought you were marrying a struggling playwright. Then lo and behold, it turns out his family has made a fortune in the iron industry.”
“I never asked for a cent of your money,” she said, blue eyes flashing. “You’re the one who came for me—who carried me out of that hospital. You’re the one who brought me here. Leda insisted I have the clothing. I’ve accepted everything because she wanted me to have it.”
And as Stephen’s wife, all that was due her. And more. Being rude to Claire wasn’t going to bring Stephen back, and holding her responsible was only a small comfort.
At odds with his resentment was his appreciation of someone to keep his mother’s spirits up and to give her days purpose and pleasure. Claire had been nothing but a comfort and companion for Leda. A fact that ate at him.
“You’re a Halliday now,” he said, turning back to her, “no matter what you were before. No matter why Stephen married you. And that makes you my responsibility. It also gives you responsibilities.”
“And what would those responsibilities be?”
“We’ll discuss that tomorrow. I have a few papers to go over tonight.”
“And a bottle of brandy to finish.”
“If I see fit.”
“I’m sure you’ll see fit.”
“Good night.” He left and closed the door, admiring her for holding her own while at the same he congratulated himself for being right. At last her true colors were bleeding through. She wasn’t the demure little flower she pretended.
Weariness caught up to him. The days had to get easier after this one. He’d thought giving his mother the news of the train crash had been hard. He’d thought identifying Stephen’s body and shipping it home had been difficult. He thought finding Claire alive and making the arrangements for her and the baby had been tiring.
Appearing today before friends and family had taken every last ounce of reserve he had left. Nothing could ever be this difficult again.
Unless of course, it was fighting this sordid attraction to his sister-in-law and sorting through the feelings of betrayal that had come to haunt his nights.
He was testing her, purely and simply. And she was failing miserably because of her total unpreparedness. She didn’t have a clue who Stephen or Claire Halliday were. And since it appeared her stay with the Hallidays was stretching into infinity, she’d better do something about her lack of information. Soon.
She could learn about Stephen from Leda. The woman loved to talk about him, and it would seem only natural to discuss and share their loss.
Claire, however, was another matter. The more Sarah thought about it, the more she became convinced that Nicholas would have had Claire investigated to protect the family’s interests. And if that were so, the results of the investigation were in his office somewhere, probably in that enormous, organized desk. If she could read the report she’d at least have an idea of who she was supposed to be playing. She’d know the same things that Nicholas knew.
She learned from Leda and the servants that he went to the foundry each day, and she formulated a plan.
The next day at supper she invited Leda to come to her room that evening, and when the woman arrived, they sipped tea and played cribbage by the fire.
“Tell me all about Stephen when he was a boy,” Sarah begged.
Leda smiled a forlorn smile. “He was as delightful as a boy as he was as a man,” she said. “He got into his share of mischief, mind you, but he was sweet and loving.”
“What about when he was in school?”
Leda told her story upon story, and as Sarah had hoped, she reflected on something in his adulthood from time to time. Sarah hung on every word, asking questions and joining her laughter and her tears. She felt close to Leda Halliday, closer than she had a right to, and she appreciated the time and the concern that the woman afforded her. Being there for solace and companionship was the least she could do.
She dreaded that one day she would have to tell her the truth and see the anguish her masquerade had wrought.
Once the hour grew late, Leda left for her own quarters, and Sarah
