With Autumn's Return (Westward Winds Book #3): A Novel by Amanda Cabot Page B

of a moon skirted beneath a passing cloud, Elizabeth considered Jason’s statement. It sounded as though his childhood had been lonely. Though she suspected she knew the answer, she felt compelled to ask, “Do you have any siblings?”
    The evening was dark, but not so dark that Elizabeth could not see Jason’s expression. His lips curved into a grimace. “My mother died when I was born, and my father never remarried. When I was old enough to understand, he told me that Mrs. Moran had set her cap for him, but he wouldn’tdishonor my mother’s memory by marrying someone he didn’t love.”
    And Mrs. Moran had taken out her frustration on Jason. Elizabeth closed her eyes, searching for something amusing to say to lift his spirits, but try though she might, she could find nothing.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “Everyone deserves to be loved.”
    “You don’t need to pity me. My father loved me in his own way, and the experience taught me a lesson. No matter what I have to do, my children will not be raised by a housekeeper. They’ll have a mother with them every hour of the day and night. They’ll never be left alone.”
    Though he said nothing more, Elizabeth’s imagination conjured the image of a small boy in the throes of a nightmare, waking and having no one to comfort him. Poor Jason.
    “Have you been to the park before?” Jason asked as he turned the carriage toward the center. The message was clear: there would be no further discussion of his childhood tonight.
    “Not at night.” Though the park was beautiful during the day, moonlight gave it a special allure. The curving roads seemed mysterious, and were she so inclined, Elizabeth would have called them romantic. But tonight was not a night for romance. Tonight was business, a night for developing relationships with potential patients.
    She settled back on the seat, trying to relax while her mind whirled at the realization that the evening hadn’t turned out the way she had expected. She might not have gained any patients, might instead have alienated several, but she had accomplished at least one thing. Not only had she and Jason forged a truce, but she was beginning to believe she’d been mistaken about him. In the time they’d been together, she hadseen his arrogance disappear, falling away like a butterfly’s chrysalis, revealing a man with surprising vulnerabilities as well as fundamental strengths. Though she knew her sister would crow with triumph were Elizabeth to admit it, Charlotte had been right. Jason was charming.

     
    Count to ten. Nelson Chadwick clenched his fists, knowing that counting to ten or even to ten thousand would not dissipate the anger that surged through him. What he wanted was to wipe the smirk off his wife’s face. He’d said nothing while they were at the Taggerts’, for he had no intention of creating a scene that would be reported to every busybody in Cheyenne. He’d kept his lips pressed firmly together as they’d driven home, but now that they were inside the house that Tabitha had made over to suit her, he could no longer remain silent.
    “How could you behave like that?” he demanded, anger coloring his words and turning his voice harsh as he closed the door to the small parlor behind them. Though he doubted the servants had any illusions about the state of his marriage, there was no point in exposing them to the sordid details, even though the generous salaries he paid would ensure their silence. His staff was loyal; his wife was not.
    “Like what?” The smile that accompanied Tabitha’s seemingly innocent question was the sweet one that had fooled him at the beginning. It fooled him no longer.
    “Like a slut.” He spat the words. “You’re my wife, Tabitha. I expect you to remember that and act accordingly.”
    Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her smile faded. “I danced the first dance with you. What more did you want? You wereout of breath by the end of it. I did you a favor by letting you sit