Brenda Joyce - [Francesca Cahill 05] by Deadly Caress Page B

father.
    How had it come to this? Their life had been so perfect, once!
    “Mommy? Don’t cry,” Charlotte whispered, tugging at her skirts.
    Connie sat fully down on the floor, Charlotte crawling quickly onto her lap. “Darling, I am not crying; I merely have dust in my eye.” She smiled brightly. “What shall we do today, sweetheart?”
    “Will you take us to the park, then? Or can we go shopping? Can you buy me a new doll? Or a bonnet with a red ribbon?” Charlotte asked eagerly.
    Connie laughed and it felt good. Although Charlotte resembled Connie exactly, with her perfect oval face, fine features, and bright blue eyes, and she was platinum blond, a shade or two lighter than her mother, she was so much like Francesca in character. Charlotte’s nature was a demanding and curious one. It had never ceased to amaze Connie that she had such a bold and clever daughter.
    “I will take both of you shopping,” Connie decided, as it was too cold to play in the park. The idea of dressing up the girls and taking them to Lord & Taylor became distinctly appealing. However, the evening that loomed ahead worried her—they always had plans; they always went out. Recently Connie had been begging off with a migraine. “Mrs. Partridge? Do you have any idea what plans my husband has made for this evening?”
    “I think he said something about a birthday ball,” the nanny responded, smiling at her. And Connie realized she saw relief in the governess’s eyes.
    Connie stood, dismayed. A ball was an endless affair. She did not want to go—she had no intention of going—Neil could attend without her. He had been attending most functions these days alone. The birthday must be Letitia Hardwick’s. Letitia was a good friend, and once upon a time Connie had adored balls. Now she paused. Letitia was a verysultry brunette who frankly admired Neil. She had told Connie many times how lucky she was to be married to such a man. Letitia’s husband was older, unattractive, and severe. Connie was suddenly afraid.
    She was afraid that Letitia would try to seduce Neil behind her back.
    She told herself not to be absurd. Letitia was her friend. On the other hand, her only real friend was Fran, and Connie suspected but did not know for a fact that Letitia already had had several affairs.
    “Connie,” Neil said from behind her, surprise in his tone.
    She stiffened. All of the joy she had been feeling vanished. There was dread and dismay, but there was also hope.
    She turned and intended to smile, but her frozen facial muscles would not respond. Yet her heart quickened treacherously. She would always find him handsome. No one was more attractive than he.
    But he was not noble. He had only pretended to be.
    Neil was smiling at her, but his expression was strained and there was worry and anxiety in his gaze. “You look wonderful,” he said.
    “Good morning,” Connie said evenly. “I hadn’t realized you were home.”
    Disappointment covered his features. She stiffened, because she knew him so well and she knew her cold manner was hurting him. But this was what he deserved. Wasn’t it? “This is a wonderful surprise,” he said huskily. “How glad I am to see you. Are you feeling better?” he asked. He had shoved his hands in the pockets of his dark trousers, as if he did not know what to do with them.
    “Actually, I do feel better.” She smiled grimly, fortifying herself against him.
    “That is wonderful,” he said, clearly meaning it. He smiled at her, but uncertainly. “Did you have breakfast yet? Can I order you some toast and tea?”
    “I’m not hungry,” Connie said flatly. And she looked her husband in the eye, daring him to dispute her.
    A silence fell.
    “Mommy, we had pancakes this morning! They were so delicious!” Charlotte cried, tugging on Connie’s hand but glancing anxiously back and forth between her parents.
    Connie bit her lip, realizing that her daughter was fully aware of the tension between her and Neil.