James's blue eyes went wide with fear, and his face drained of all color. "What in G.o.d's name are you talking about?" He clutched at Alex's wrists. "You're about to rip my suit, young man."

"Your suit?" Alex released the man so suddenly that he staggered, tripped backward over his chair, and sprawled on the floor. "If I rip anything, you miserable little worm, it'll be your head from your shoulders."

Struggling up on one knee, James grasped the chair arm to steady himself. "Explain yourself! You can't come barging in here like this, making threats and raising a ruckus! There are laws to-"

"Laws?" Alex brought his fist down on the table. The serving bowls and candlesticks leaped at the force of the blow, all landing simultaneously with a loud crash. "There are common laws of decency, my friend, that were never written in any of your precious law books. Did you ever once observe any of them? Not with your daughter, that's for d.a.m.ned sure."

Alex leveled a finger at the other man's nose. "Understand this, you pitiful son of a b.i.t.c.h. Annie will never return to this house.

Not as long as I draw breath. Consider my word on that part of our agreement broken, and you'd better give thanks to Almighty G.o.d that's all I've decided to break."

"I don't know what you're talking about," James said tremulously. "I've never mistreated our daughter."

"Never mistreated her?" Alex gave a harsh laugh. "Aside from beating on her every time she stepped out of line, you've neglected to educate her. There are schools for the deaf! And all manner of things that can be done to help them! In all these years, you've never even so much as bought her an ear trumpet! But worse than that, you've let everyone in this town believe she's a moron! How do you sleep at night? Can you tell me that? I sure as h.e.l.l couldn't."

In the wake of that accusation, a stunned silence settled over the room. Through the haze of his anger, Alex brought James's face into clearer focus. What he saw in the other man's expression helped to douse his fury. Not guilt, as he expected, but incredulity mixed with profound relief. It struck Alex then that Annie's parents didn't know. As impossible as it seemed, they honestly didn't know.

Shaking with the last vestiges of rage, he jerked out a chair and dropped onto it as though someone had dealt a blow to the backs of his knees. "She's deaf," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "Not mad, not stupid. Deaf."

Edie sank back onto her seat, one shaking hand clamped over her mouth, the other pressed to her waist. She stared at Alex over the tops of her white-knuckled fingers. After a moment, she dropped her hand. "Annie is not deaf! The girl can hear as well as you or I!"

Alex felt the anger building within him again. "That's an out-and-out lie, and you know it. The girl is deaf. I saw proof of it myself just this afternoon. And don't tell me you haven't.

She didn't invent that fantasy world I found in my attic overnight. She's been playing those games for years. You had to have known about them! At one time or another, you must have come upon her when she was playing make-believe."

The guilt that flashed in Edie's eyes spoke for itself. Never had Alex slapped a woman, but his palm itched to do so now.

Just once, he wished she could see how it felt. She had certainly treated Annie to the experience often enough. "How could you ignore the needs of your own daughter?" he asked in a raw voice. "If helped, deaf people can live nearly normal lives."

"She isn't deaf!" Edie shot to her feet. "Do you think I wouldn't know if such a thing were true? That I haven't wished as much? Even prayed for it? She isn't deaf, I tell you.

If she's turned once when I call her name, she's done so a thousand times. How dare you come bursting into our home, yelling obscenities and accusing us of mistreating her!" She ground a fist against her mouth to stifle a sob. "How dare you?"

His anger completely spent, disgust welling in its place, Alex stood up and pushed his chair back under the table. "And I thought I was blind? My wife is deaf. Stone-deaf." He shot a glance at James, who stood behind his chair, gripping its back as though he couldn't stand without the support. "Notice I said wife. I don't use the term lightly. From this moment on, Annie is a Montgomery and as such is no longer affiliated with this household or anyone in it."

Edie spun to watch as Alex left the room. When he reached the doors, she cried out, the sound more moan than word. He paused to look back at her, seeing her pain, yet separated from it. There was no room within him for sympathy, not for anyone but Annie.

"You can't take our little girl completely away from us,"

she whispered raggedly. "You can't do such a thing! No one could be that heartless."

Alex regarded her with stony distaste. "Call it heartless if you wish, but that is exactly what I intend to do. I don't want either of you anywhere near my wife. Your love, if anyone in his right mind can call it that, has caused her nothing but injury." Looking directly at Edie, he said, "You, madam, are a pitiful excuse for a mother." Turning his gaze toward James, he added, "And you, sir, have made a mockery of the word father."

With that, Alex slammed out of the house, silently vowing that he would never again darken the Trimbles' doorstep.

During the ride home, however, something kept digging at his memory. An elusive something. Something Maddy had once said. He had nearly reached Montgomery Hall when he finally recalled what it was. He and Maddy had been in his study, discussing Annie, and during the course of their conversation, Maddy had ruled out the possibility that Annie might be deaf. She turns when I call her name, she'd said.

As Alex rubbed down his horse and put him away in his stall, those words kept coming back to him. Edie Trimble had said basically the same thing. If she has turned once when I call her name, she has done so a thousand times.

Alex couldn't find it in his heart to regret a single word he had said to the Trimbles. In his estimation, they had deserved all of that, and more. But he was filled with hope by what Edie had told him.

Could it be that Annie wasn't completely deaf? Was it possible that she could hear certain sounds? Alex hurried up to the house, so excited he could scarcely wait to discuss the possibility with Maddy.

At precisely ten o'clock the next morning, Alex hovered outside the nursery, watching Maddy and Annie through the partially open door. The girl, once again dressed in a childish frock, sat at the table, her unfinished breakfast shoved aside, her chin propped on the heel of her hand. Gazing out the barred window, she ignored Maddy, who was making a great show of straightening the bureau drawers. As Alex had instructed her earlier, the housekeeper suddenly looked up from her task and loudly called, "Annie!"

Alex nearly whooped with excitement when Annie turned and fastened questioning eyes on the other woman. Pretending nothing was amiss, Maddy opened another drawer and began refolding the clothes that lay on top. She waited several minutes, allowing Annie plenty of time to direct her attention back outdoors. Then she called the girl's name again. As before, Annie glanced over her shoulder.

She could hear! Alex was so pleased he could scarcely contain himself. Maddy glanced toward the door, met his gaze through the crack, and winked conspiratorially. Alex grinned at her and nodded. After waiting a few minutes, he called Annie's name himself. At the sound of his voice, which was lower in pitch, she never so much as blinked. He called a little louder. Still nothing. After the third try, Maddy yelled her name again, and as before, Annie immediately turned.

"She hears you!" Alex proclaimed as he shoved the door open and strode into the room. "It's because you speak louder and your voice goes shrill when you call her, I think. Do you know what this means, Maddy?" Completely forgetting himself in his excitement, Alex s.n.a.t.c.hed Maddy into his arms and swept her around the room in a two-step. "With the aid of ear trumpets, she may be able to hear us speaking to her. We'll be able to teach her her letters! And to read! Maybe even to talk! Maddy, this is wonderful."

Huffing from the unaccustomed exercise, Maddy cried, "Do stop, Master Alex. Me old heart cannot take all this dancing about!"

Releasing the older woman, Alex turned to Annie. She was watching him with her usual wariness, her blue eyes guarded.

Flashing her a grin, Alex swept one arm across his waist and executed a courtly bow. After he straightened, he said, "May I have the honor of this dance?''

She stared up at him, clearly startled and more than a little suspicious. Then she slid a glance at Maddy. Dancing, Alex determined, was obviously a secret activity, one that could not be indulged in outside the attic.

To h.e.l.l with that. ..

Determined, he closed the distance between them, grasped her hand, and drew her to her feet. Against her wishes, which she made quite apparent by going rigid and stumbling awkwardly within his arm, he swept her into a waltz step.

Deciding his toes could take that punishment and more, Alex stubbornly drew her around the room, his gaze fixed on her averted face.

"I don't think she wants to dance," Maddy needlessly pointed out.

Alex only smiled more broadly. "She loves to dance. She simply doesn't want to dance with me." As he spoke, Annie glanced up. Alex looked into her frightened eyes, wishing with all his heart that she could tell him what was going through her head. Memories of Douglas? Fear of him? Acutely aware of the stiffness of her body and her diminutive stature, he felt his conscience begin to smote him. Slowly he drew to a stop, his gaze still holding hers.

"All right, Annie love, you win this battle. I won't force you to dance with me."

The relief that swept across her face was so unmistakable that Alex chuckled. She could give him that stupid look until h.e.l.l was besieged by snowstorms, and he'd never again fall for it. As long as he looked right at her and spoke distinctly, she understood him perfectly.

"Before I turn you loose, however, you have to pay a price,"

he added softly.

At that, her blue eyes darkened, and he felt her body grow even more rigid. Oh, yes, she understood.

"If you don't want to dance with me," he pressed, "then tell me so."

Maddy drew in a sharp breath. "Master Alex! Fer shame. Ye know the poor wee la.s.s can't speak."

"Oh, but she can," he said, never taking his gaze from Annie's. "And she will, or I'm going to hold her in my arms like this all day."

Annie's eyes widened. Alex grinned. "Well, Annie love?

Turn me down, or dance with me. It's a very simple thing."

Her mouth thinned into a mutinous line. Taking care not to exert too much pressure, Alex tightened his arm around her waist and drew her a little more snugly against him. She raised her chin, the picture of defiance. In response, he began to move around the room again, forcing her to move with him.

"Whisper it to me, Annie love. I know very well you can."

"Oh, Master Alex, have a pity!"

He smiled slowly into Annie's worried eyes. "Tell me no, Annie, or dance with me until dark. Your choice."

He saw her mouth tighten. Then she swallowed. Looking down at her, seeing the struggle she was going through, Alex felt his whole body tense. Fixing her gaze on one of his shirt b.u.t.tons, she finally parted her lips. And then, so quickly he almost missed it, she formed the word, "No."

A burning sensation crawled up the back of Alex's throat.

From her stony expression, he knew she hated him a little for forcing the issue, but he didn't care. By winning this small battle, he had claimed a large victory for both of them.

When he released her, she staggered at the sudden lack of support. Alex caught her elbow to steady her. When her beautiful eyes met his again, he touched a fingertip lightly to her cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered.

After leaving Annie, Alex closeted himself in his study to update his books. That order of business occupied him until lunch, which he ate at his desk. When the maid had cleared away the mess, he rocked back in his chair and propped his feet on his desktop, his folded arms tucked behind his head.

Gazing thoughtfully into s.p.a.ce, he contemplated yet another problem that involved Annie, one that, until this moment, he hadn't allowed himself to consider overmuch.

How could a man woo a timid deaf girl?

He allowed himself a few minutes to recall how he had felt while dancing with her in the attic yesterday, and he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he wanted her in his arms again. It was as simple and as complicated as that. The challenge would be to lure Annie back into his embrace.

Judging by her reaction to their waltz that morning, she wasn't going to be an enthusiastic party to any sort of physical closeness.

Ordinarily, Alex might have gone about things in the usual way, but the direct approach wouldn't work on Annie, and he knew it. For one, she was frightened of him after what Douglas had done to her, and understandably so. For another, her life until now had not prepared her for openness. Her parents had done such a thorough job of keeping Annie and her affliction in the background of their lives that they had made her guarded and secretive as well.

Seduction was his ultimate aim. The question was, how should he go about it? Several minutes pa.s.sed, during which Alex conceived and discarded several ideas. Then a slow smile touched his mouth. How did a man seduce any woman?

He enticed her, of course, with something he knew she couldn't resist.

That afternoon when Maddy came downstairs to oversee the maids in their various household tasks, Annie trailed along behind her as she had been doing for well over a week, the only difference being that today there was a watcher in the house. When he saw that his wife was downstairs, he retired to his study, leaving the door carefully ajar.

Taking up his position in his favorite chair, Alex upended the cooking pot that he had taken from the kitchen. Clamping the pot firmly between his knees, he began to pound on its bottom with a large metal spoon. The resultant sound raised a din to wake the dead. Not satisfied with the tone, he repositioned the pot until the percussion produced a high-pitched ping. Having warned Maddy, the maids, and Frederick in advance, Alex knew that none of them would seek out the source of the sound. Only one person would come ... if she could hear the noise.

Ping! Ping! Plunk! It was, without question, a G.o.dawful ruckus that he was raising, and he felt absolutely ridiculous. A grown man banging on a pot? He only prayed it would work.

Forcing himself not to look toward the door, he pounded incessantly on the kettle, uncertain if Annie could even hear it.

He had about given up hope when he glimpsed movement from the corner of his eye. With renewed enthusiasm, he beat the pot, struggling not to reveal his elation by smiling. In a moment, Annie's worn shoes came into view, and he knew she was standing only a few feet away. He continued to wield the spoon, pretending he hadn't seen her.

Drawn to the noise like metal shavings to a magnet, she came closer. Then closer still. Finally Alex allowed himself to look up. The expression on her face made making a fool of himself worth the embarra.s.sment. Eyes huge and bewildered, she stood there in thrall, her gaze riveted to the spoon.

Alex allowed himself to grin, albeit only slightly, and stopped pounding. At the silence, she jerked and fixed her gaze on him. He held the spoon out to her.

"Want to have a go at it?"

The yearning reflected in her eyes was unmistakable.

Remembering what James had told him about Annie's embarra.s.sing behavior years ago over an organ at church, Alex felt his heart catch. Sound. To Annie, it was elusive and infrequent, a miracle that occasionally broke through the wall of silence that enveloped her. As a child, to her parents'

humiliation and her own d.a.m.nation, she hadn't been able to resist its lure in church and had pressed herself against the organ, making what her father had called "animalistic noises."

As an adult, she was still helplessly drawn to it. Sound. A priceless gift to someone like Annie, and one that he could give her.

Watching the myriad emotions that crossed her face, Alex almost felt ashamed of himself for using sound as a seductive lure. Almost. She was his wife, and by fair means or foul, he meant for this to be more than a sham marriage, not just for his own sake, but hers. Given her affliction, she might never be able to lead a completely normal life, but he could give her something d.a.m.ned close. Love, laughter, companionship.

Soon they would even have a child to raise. Annie was going to play an active role as its mother. He would see to that.

Alex held out the spoon, tempting her without mercy and with only a twinge of conscience. Her lovely eyes went stormy gray with wariness. But he also saw yearning. A yearning so sharp it made him ache for her. In his hand, he held magic. All she had to do was reach out and take it.

Her whole body trembled as she came closer and reached out to grasp the spoon handle. Their fingertips brushed in the exchange, an electrical feeling to Alex and clearly an unsettling one for her.

"Go ahead. Pound on it," he encouraged her.

She drew her gaze from his mouth back to the pot. A glint of excitement came into her eyes. Apparently reluctant to come too close, she leaned forward at the waist to clobber the pot. At the ensuing clank, she blinked. Actually blinked. Alex nearly shouted with jubilation.

"Go ahead! It won't bite you." And neither will I, he silently vowed. He couldn't ruin this for her, not today. Maybe not ever. So much for seduction.

His throat tightened as he watched her smack the kettle bottom again. At the resultant sound, an amazed look swept over her face. Then she smiled. The radiance of that smile so transformed her face that all Alex could do was stare. She lifted her gaze to his, and a feeling arced between them that had nothing to do with seduction and everything to do with budding friendship.

For Alex, it had to be enough. For Annie, it was a new beginning.

Fourteen.

That evening, Annie expected to be served her supper in the nursery as usual, but instead Maddy escorted her downstairs and into the dining room. Though Annie had never been in the room directly before a meal, she had visited there several times with Maddy during the day. The room's hominess and sunshine-yellow accents had always appealed to her, probably because the color reminded her of being outdoors, which she sorely missed. A stone fireplace ran the length of one wall, its simplicity in keeping with the decor. Instead of Irish lace, the sideboard sported a simple, embroidered scarf with a tatted border. Upon it was arranged an a.s.sortment of rose-patterned china, utilitarian serving utensils, and a teapot with chipped gilt trim.

Despite its large dimensions, the room gave off an air of warmth, filling Annie's mind with visions of cheerful fires on cold winter evenings and a close-knit family gathering for hearty meals. Alex reclined on a chair at one end of the long table, his hair agleam in the light from a crystal chandelier, the room's only claim to elegance. With one arm hooked over the chair back and one booted foot propped on his opposite knee, he looked slightly bored and a whole lot impatient. When he spotted her coming into the room, he pushed quickly to his feet.

Stepping around the table, he extended one large hand to her.

In keeping with the room, he was comfortably dressed in a V-necked silk shirt the color of fresh cream, his biscuit-brown riding pants tucked into tall, umber boots. As he approached, Annie took the moment to study him, noticing yet again that he was nothing at all like her papa or the men she'd seen visiting at her parents' house. Instead of the ruffles, jeweled stickpins, and ornate watch chains that those gentlemen usually favored, he wore a plain gold belt buckle and a simple watch chain, the latter tucked through a belt loop. No fancy silk vest. No sparkly rings. No funny-smelling perfume.

When Annie looked at Alex, she thought of sunshine and fresh air, not drawing rooms with the heavy draperies she so despised hanging over the windows. His tawny hair lay in wispy, sun-streaked waves over his forehead, slightly tousled, as though recently stirred by the wind. The collar of his shirt hung open, revealing the burnished planes of his chest. He even walked as if he were outdoors, with a careless air, his stride long and loose, his arms slightly bent and swinging at his sides.

When he came to a stop in front of her, he took her hand, then drew her back to the table, pulling out a chair to the immediate left of his. Realizing that the table had been set for two, she lifted a startled gaze to his. At home, she'd never been allowed to take her meals in the dining room.

"I think a wife should take the evening meal with her husband. Don't you?"