Wild Star (Star Quartet 3)

“Good,” Saint said. “I suggest, gentlemen, that we waste no more time. Let’s track down Ira Butler.”

EIGHTEEN

Eileen reluctantly ushered the three men into the Butler drawing room. Both Ira and Irene were present, and it was her face that drew Brent’s attention. She’s scared silly, he thought. And they both know. Oh yes, they know why we’re here.

“Gentlemen,” Ira said in a thin, calm voice. “May I ask why you have honored my sister and me with your visit?”

Del Saxton moved forward. “Do you want your sister to remain, Ira?”

It was Irene who walked forward, her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “I will stay, Mr. Saxton.”

“Very well then,” Del said.

“We are here about Byrony,” Brent said.

“So,” Irene said, “the little slut came running to you. What filth did she tell you?”

“It’s no use, Irene,” Ira said. He sounded incredibly weary.

“What do you mean?” Irene said. “For God’s sake, Ira, get a hold of yourself. These gentlemen know nothing.”

Brent saw clearly what Byrony’s life had been like. But he also saw the fear, the desperation in Irene Butler’s face.

“We happen to know everything, finally,” Brent said. “If you hadn’t tried to poison her, Butler, if you had but trusted her, she would never have said a word. Never.”

“She ran to you, her lover,” Irene said. “I know her sort—a tramp, just like her silly mother. I knew she would betray me, I—”

“That’s enough,” Brent said. He looked from Irene to Ira, then said, “It is time to end this farce. If you do nothing foolish, I doubt anyone will ever think that Michelle is a product of your union. But don’t doubt it, you will do exactly as we say, or you won’t survive.”

“What is it you want?” Ira asked. He turned away as he spoke, and walked to the front windows. He appeared almost disinterested.

Del said, “The marriage will be annulled, immediately. None of us feel it precisely fair that Byrony be considered a fallen woman—a wife who’s deserted her husband and child—thus you will bear the brunt of whatever scandal there is. You will admit that the child is Irene’s, that the child is the result of her relations with another man, a man who was tragically killed, if you wish. I’m certain that if you put your heads together, you’ll come up with a very affecting tale to justify what you did. As Brent said, I can’t imagine that anyone would draw the conclusion that Michelle is the result of incest. If you do it properly, I imagine that San Francisco society will forgive your charade in a very short time.”

Saint spoke for the first time. “Ira, I’ve known you for several years. What you’ve done—I don’t refer to you and Irene, that’s none of my business—but what you did to Byrony, well

, that’s tough to swallow. You hurt her badly, and I don’t refer simply to your use of poison and your tale of her being insane. I have to admit that for the first time in my life I want to strangle another human being. You’ll do as you’re told, Ira.”

“Yes,” Ira said, his back still to them, “I will do as you ask.” He turned then, slowly. “I would like to know one thing,” he said, his eyes on Brent. “I had no idea that Byrony even knew you, Hammond. Is Irene right? Has she been your mistress?”

For a long moment Brent simply stared at him. Then he threw back his head and laughed deeply. “My God, man, did you know your—wife—so little? If you weren’t so pathetic, I’d knock your teeth down your throat.”

“Please don’t do that, Brent,” Saint said. “Ira’s got healthy straight teeth.”

“She was, wasn’t she, damn you, Brent Hammond.” Irene shouted. “God, that’s where she belongs. Running off with a gambler whose partner is a whore!”

Brent’s expression became quite cruel, but his voice was an amused drawl. “You amaze me, Miss Butler, you truly do. You appear so determined to paint Byrony a slut—I would suggest that you look to yourself instead. As for Maggie, she is honorable and loyal and you aren’t fit to be in the same room with her. For your information, Butler,” he added, “your wife was trying to escape you that night. I was fortunate enough to be on hand to help her.”

Ira felt ill. Indeed, he looked so white, Saint moved to him. “No,” Ira said quietly. “Living a lie—well, one isn’t always rational. So many things to regret—We will do as you wish. Don’t send Byrony back to her parents. Her father is cruel. He would abuse her endlessly.”

Del said, slanting a look toward Brent, “Who knows? Perhaps it would be best for her to return home. After all, what does she have here?”

Brent said very clearly, “As soon as the annulment is granted, I’m going to marry her.”

Byrony sat in Brent’s favorite chair, her legs tucked beneath her, a book lying unread on her lap. Nero had come to check on her once, to make certain, she supposed, that she wasn’t preparing to bolt. Maggie had shared lunch with her. But now she was alone again.

When have I ever really not been alone? she wondered. And now, soon, she would be alone again. She shook her head to clear her mind of the endless stream of questions that had no answers.

She heard the door to the outer office close, heard Brent’s footsteps coming toward the bedroom. It was odd, she thought, that she knew it was he, recognized the sound of his step. She met his eyes as he stepped into the bedroom. For a long moment they simply stared at each other, not saying anything.