Her neck straightened. “Ma’am, it isn’t my place.”
My volume rose. “What has he told you about me, about our arrangement?”
“He said that you needed help, and though he doesn’t like the recognition, I know that’s the kind of man he is, the kind who helps those who need it.” Her hand came to my arm. “While it isn’t my place, I must add that he’s also lonely. That isn’t a new development. The first Mrs. Elliott has been gone a long time, well, most of your life. We all hoped he’d decide to move on, not because we didn’t love Miss Trisha and McKenzie, we did. It was because we all care for him, too. It’s been hard on us to watch him when he’s alone. That’s why everyone here is thrilled that you agreed to marry him.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I believe you’ve been misled.”
“I hope that isn’t the case.” She stood. “What may I bring you?”
My head shook as I once again looked out toward the barns and corrals. “I don’t need anything.”
“Eloise,” Marion’s booming voice came from the patio where we’d eaten breakfast the day before. His boots clipped determinedly across the brick and concrete deck, the sound growing louder as he neared. “Bring us coffee. Mrs. Elliott takes hers with cream as I’m sure you recall.”
Mrs. Elliott?
My head snapped toward Marion, yet his attention was on Eloise.
“And then we’ll eat breakfast in the dining room,” he said, “It’s too damn cold out here this morning. Damn Texas winters.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied with a smile as she turned away.
Once Eloise had disappeared into the house, Marion came to a stop near my legs. The gregarious personality from the tournament and yesterday morning was gone, replaced by the more solemn expression of last night. “Madeline, I went to your room to find it empty.”
“That’s because I couldn’t sleep.”
With a sigh, his long legs bent as he lowered himself to the lounge chair near my legs. “I had the same problem.”
My spine straightened. “The same? Were you having problems sleeping because you were once again reduced to a commodity and bartered in a transaction? If that’s the case, please, let’s chat. If your difficulty sleeping was caused by anything other than that demeaning occurrence, I’m afraid I can’t relate.”
He shook his head. “Let me tell you what I’d planned.”
The sound of his voice and his drawl no longer made me smile. On the contrary, it caused the acid in my stomach to churn and percolate in my throat.
I threw back the blanket that had recently brought warmth to my legs and toes, warmth that I didn’t realize I’d been missing. Moving my legs to the other side of the chair and out of his reach, I said, “You’ll have to excuse me, Marion, I’m not feeling well.”
As I stood, he seized my wrist. “Hear me out, Madeline.”
“Why? Why should I listen to you or Andros or any of the vile, contemptuous men who found sadistic pleasure in my agony?” I freed my wrist. “You said yesterday that you and the others thought I was enjoying myself seventeen years ago. Did you hear yourself? Do you truly believe an eighteen-year-old abused and starving child enjoyed having the eyes of men twice and three times her age staring at her, leering, fantasizing, and judging? Is that the kind of lies you told yourself to justify your behavior?”
“Some were closer to your age, such as Antonio.”
The confirmation caused the acid bubbling to move upward in my throat.
“Didn’t you know?” he asked with a sneer.
“I didn’t, but I’m glad he’s dead. One down.”
His grin grew. “We really must move on. There are more pressing matters.”
“My daughter is sixteen years old. Do you believe that I want her near any man who found perverse pleasure in the suffering of a teenager?”
“Andros was there—”
I lifted my hand. “Stop right there.”
“I can assure you that when it comes to Ruby, my intentions are pure.”
“Pure, as in you want to adopt her, you want to claim her as your own, and you want to stake a claim on an empire she has never known or known of her connection. Tell me, is that your definition of pure?”
“As I said,” he replied, standing, the long chair now separating us. “We must move on. There are matters at hand.”
“You know what?” I asked, slapping my thighs as I turned away and then back. “I thought I had moved on. Somewhere and sometime during Ruby’s lifetime, I thought I had moved beyond that horrible night, the hell that preceded it, and the one that followed. I dedicated my life to her and her well-being.”
“That is why you need to hear me out,” Marion said. “We—my men, not Andros’s—have been looking into what happened yesterday.”
“How you sent Antonio Hillman to retrieve the most precious person in my world and how he double-crossed you.”
Marion inhaled. “It appears as though Mr. Hillman had a small aircraft chartered near where his body was found. It was set to fly into Mexico, a small town only seventy miles south of the border. I have private detectives going there today.”
I had to remind myself that this should be new information.
“Why?” I asked, pretending that I wasn’t confident she was now safe with her father. “Do you think Ruby is there?”
“Not via the plane Hillman chartered. But it’s a lead, Madeline. I promise we’ll find her.”
Inhaling, I let out the breath slowly. As I did, I recalled Marion’s first words as he came closer. “Why did you refer to me as Mrs. Elliott? Saying it doesn’t make it so. I can’t and I won’t marry you.”
Marion nodded. “After you left the library last night, Andros and I discussed that possibility.”
My neck straightened. “Of course you did. The two of you have this all worked out.”
Marion reached into the pocket of the suede jacket he was wearing over a light blue button-up, complete with a bolo tie.
My eyes narrowed as I waited for another ribbon or symbol of my servitude.
Held between his thumb and finger was a small velvet box.
My chin rose. “I told you that I don’t care if it’s a ribbon or a ring, I won’t wear it.”
He opened the box. In the early morning sunlight, the diamonds glistened. There was one ridiculously large center stone surrounded by multiple smaller stones. “I contacted a jeweler in Dallas late last night and described what I wanted,” he said. “He worked all night.” Marion plucked the ring from the velvet grasp. “I didn’t know your size and neither did Andros. The jeweler promised me that it can be sized in a matter of hours.”
Of course Andros didn’t know my size. Nothing he ever gave me was purchased by him directly. He gave orders. Others followed.
“It’s lovely, Marion.” Rather ostentatious, but lovely. “I’m not interested. I don’t care that you wasted millions of dollars in a deal with Andros or that you wasted money on that farce of a symbol of servitude. That’s your doing, not mine. I care about my daughter and my freedom. I don’t give a damn what you and Andros decided. The truth is I’ve done my time. I won’t marry you.”