“As I explained to Grand’mère and Grand-père before I left, I did not wish to cause them any pain. I simply felt my place was with my husband.”
“Why, Mercy?” Anton again demanded, gesturing angrily. “When are you going to stop avoiding the issue and tell me what’s really going on here? How could you possibly have taken that man back after he treated you so abominably?”
“Actually, Anton, I regret ever confiding in you regarding my marriage. The truth is, I never should have left Julian.”
“What?” he cried.
She held up a hand. “When Julian came after me in Natchez and we at last had an opportunity to talk, I discovered that I’d left him due to a misunderstanding—some false conclusions I’d drawn.”
Anton’s brow knitted in suspicion. “What sort of false conclusions?”
She stood and began to pace. “Do you remember when I told you how I’d spotted Julian with Justine at her cottage, right before I left New Orleans?”
He also rose, setting his jaw in a belligerent line. “Yes. And there was no excuse for your husband’s reprehensible behavior.”
“But there was!” Mercy replied. “You see, while I didn’t know it at the time, Julian and Justine’s son was desperately ill. The boy died that very morning. The two of them were convulsed with grief.”
“My—what a generous conclusion on your part.”
“What do you mean?”
He started toward her, his expression deeply cynical. “I’m stunned at your naiveté, Mercy. How can you so easily dismiss your husband’s infidelity?”
“Anton, Julian’s son died!”
“A son he had out of wedlock, with his octoroon mistress.”
“That was before he married me.”
“Ah, but he didn’t tell you about his mistress and child, did he?” Anton pressed. “Furthermore, he continued to see the woman after you were wed, did he not?” Anton paused to laugh ironically. “Under these very damning circumstances, how can you blithely assume that their relationship is platonic? It’s totally beyond my comprehension.”
Mercy bit her lip in terrible uncertainty. Considering what she had just witnessed at Justine’s house, perhaps she was being naive.
Anton drew close to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. He smiled. “Mercy, I realize you’re infatuated with the man, but those feelings will pass in time. If you continue to stay with him, he’ll only go on hurting and betraying you, having additional illegitimate offspring with that dreadful woman.”
At his brutally accurate words, Mercy stared up at. him in horror and astonishment. Did he somehow know about Justine’s current condition? But then, how could he? Surely his presumption was just a shrewd guess—but, quite possibly, an accurate one, too!
Tightening his grip on her shoulders, Anton went on persuasively. “Come back to Natchez with me, my dear. It’s your home, the place where you belong. Your grandparents miss you and need you desperately, as I do. Indeed, in time, I mean to have you as my wife.”
“Anton, no, I could never—”
Mercy became distracted as Anton glanced sharply away, just for an instant. She stretched on tiptoe, but couldn’t see anything over his tall, broad shoulder. And then he was dragging her into his arms and kissing her boldly.
At first, Mercy was too stunned to fight as Anton’s unwelcomed lips bruised hers. Then she had no cause to fight, as his body was violently pulled from hers.
An instant later, both of them turned to face a murderously glowering Julian. His fists were clenched and veins stood out on his forehead as he confronted them.
“Keep your slimy hands off my wife!” he thundered to Anton.
Mercy gasped in horror. Yet Anton seemed unaffected, briskly brushing off his clothing as if to make clear how offensive he found Julian’s touch. “M’sieur, I have come to fetch Mercy back to her rightful place with her grandparents.”
“By seducing her?” Julian demanded.
“Mercy and I have become quite fond of each other,” Anton went on unflappably, ignoring Mercy’s horrified cry. “In time, after her divorce is official, I intend to make her my wife.”
Anton’s words were so unspeakably incriminating that for an instant, Mercy feared she might faint. Then her dizziness turned to electrified panic as she watched Julian seize Anton’s cravat. Her husband yanked on the silk tie until Anton’s face turned blood red. Mercy started to rush forward, then stopped dead at the violent, warning look Julian flashed her.
“Get the hell out of my house, you goddamned miscreant, or I’ll kill you,” he hissed to Anton.
“You will not stop me, m’sieur,” Anton managed to choke out, though his eyes were bulging. “You’re a coward anyway, as evidenced by the fact that you failed to meet my challenge in Natchez.”
Abruptly Julian released Anton. Shaking a fist at the other man, Julian replied in a blood-chilling voice, “You, sir, may consider yourself challenged once again.”
As Anton smiled in vengeful satisfaction, Mercy rushed to her husband’s side. “Julian, no!”
He threw off her touch. “You will stay the hell out of this!”
“Oh!” she cried, cringing away, angered and hurt by his cruel denouncement.
Meanwhile, Anton was puffed up at his victory. “I’m staying at the St. Louis Hotel,” he informed Julian with vindictive pleasure. “I take it I’ll be hearing from you, sir?”
“My representative will call on you before day’s end.”
“Good day, Mercy.” Anton turned and strode from the room.
The instant he was out of earshot, Mercy turned back to Julian, her eyes wide with fear. “Julian, no, you can’t fight Anton!”
“Just as you couldn’t kiss him just now?”
“I wasn’t kissing him. He was forcing himself on me. I suspect he saw you coming into the room and tried to kiss me just to rile you.”
“Then he succeeded,” Julian drawled.
“But you’re playing right into his hands.”
“Am I?” He advanced on her, his eyes blazing with scorn. “And what about you, my dear, devoted wife? What about all those long days and nights you spent with Gerard on the steamboat—and in Natchez? Did you play into his hands, Mercy? Into his bed?”
“Ooooh!” she seethed, stamping her foot. “How can you think—”
“How can I not think it, damn it!” he roared. “What a fool I’ve been to believe your lies. You must have encouraged Gerard somehow. Why else would that popinjay assume you’re going to become his wife?”
“I never gave him any reason to believe I would marry him.”
“Didn’t you?” Julian mocked. “I sure the hell didn’t see you fighting him off just now.”
With an anguished cry, Mercy raised a hand to her mouth. What could she say to Julian to change his mind? It seemed he was convinced that she had betrayed him with Anton, and there was no reaching him now.
To Julian, Mercy’s silence seemed an admission of guilt. He stared at her with ever-increasing contempt. “Cat got your tongue, Mercy?” he sneered.
She stepped forward with tears in her eyes. “Please, don’t fight him.”
His eyes glittered with raw fury. “Forgive me if I’m unmoved by your pleas to save your lover’s life.”
“He’s not my lover! And I’m not pleading for him. I’m pleading for you—for us.”
For a brief, heart-stopping moment, she spotted a flicker of softening in his blue eyes. “Julian, remember Natchez?” she asked softly, her tear-filled eyes beseeching his. “Remember how I gave myself to you that night? After that, how can you think . . . ?” Her voice trailed off in misery.
Julian was silent, and Mercy observed an exquisite struggle of emotion on his face. But soon, anger once again gave his mouth a cynical twist.
“After that, how can you kiss him?” he demanded savagely.
Mercy could only shake her head in bewilderment. There was no reaching this implacable stranger.
Julian whirled. At the door, he pivoted, pointing a finger at her. “You forget that I issued the challenge this time. And it will not be withdrawn.”
He left the room, and she collapsed on the settee, sobbing.
Chapter Thirty-four
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Mercy seethed with anger, hurt, fear, and frustration. By this time tomorrow, either Anton or Julian might well be dead. Both seemed to anticipate the duel with almost gleeful relish. Damn men and their deadly pride!
She also felt hurt regarding Julian’s unfair accusations just now. How dare he accuse her of cheating with Anton, when he may well have fathered another child with Justine! Was he pointing the finger at her to cover his own guilt?
She knew she would have to confront Julian regarding Justine. But for now the important thing was to keep him alive. Despite all her anger toward him, she still loved him, and she couldn’t bear the thought of his being killed.
She plotted her course of action. Since her husband was acting so very stubborn, she decided it might be best to try to prevail upon Anton first. She wondered how she might persuade him to back off from the duel. She could, of course, offer to return to Natchez with him if he didn’t fight Julian. But that sort of ruse would not really solve anything. For one thing, she was finished with running away from her problems. And if she did return to Natchez, Julian would likely just come after her again, thus setting the entire deadly chain of events between him and Anton into motion once more.