The Saxon Brides: Mistaken Mistress. Tessa Radley
and Megan.”
Of course, there was no mention of his real parents, or the sibling who had been robbed of the chance to know and love him.
The hymns reverberated around Alyssa, moving her until her heart ached so much she thought it might burst. Then Joshua stood and started to talk about Roland, and her heart shattered.
By the time she arrived at the cemetery on the farm where Saxons had been buried for nearly a century, Alyssa was so wrung out by emotion that her legs felt a little shaky.
She’d debated about the wisdom of coming to the burial. She’d known it would be upsetting. The last funeral she’d attended had been her adoptive mother’s—and that had been simply awful. But in the end, the need to see her brother—her flesh and blood—laid finally to rest had won out. Perhaps now she might get some peace, too.
The first person she recognised as she made her way through the white-painted picket gate was Joshua.
She hesitated. He hadn’t seen her yet.
Alyssa halted a distance off from where the Saxons crowded around the grave and sneaked another look at Joshua.
His arm was around his white-faced mother and on his other side stood his sister, Megan, sobbing into a hanky. Behind them stood Heath and Phillip Saxon, looking solemn. Amy hovered dry-eyed at the edge of the raw grave, her expression bleak.
From her vantage point, Alyssa could see the rows upon rows of vines planted on the hills that lay below the cemetery. They would only just be starting to bud for the coming summer. It struck her that, unlike the vines, Roland would never see another summer.
Blinking back a fresh prick of tears, she barely noticed the breeze that swept her hair off her face as she listened to the priest delivering the prayer.
“Amen,” she murmured with the rest of the crowd as it ended.
“Don’t plan on staying,” Joshua said very softly from behind her.
She didn’t turn her head to look at him. She hadn’t heard him approach. But every hair on her nape stood up. “I won’t.”
“Good.” He moved to stand beside her as the final hymn started. “I don’t want Amy suffering any more than she already is.”
Alyssa stared at the words on the sheet of paper in her hand and stifled an impatient sigh. Amy. His parents. That’s all he could think about. What about her? “Please believe me, I’m not going to do anything to harm Amy.”
He gave her a hard look. “I wouldn’t let you.” His eyes scanned her face. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, as he examined every inch of her face.
“Well?”
“You’re beautiful.” His tone was dispassionate. Unmoved. He might have been studying an inanimate block of marble.
“Thanks,” she said tersely, her gaze dropping away from his. The knowledge that he considered her beautiful didn’t bring satisfaction. Joshua didn’t even like her—the real Alyssa Blake beneath the veneer—he’d made that clear enough.
A disturbing thought struck her. Perhaps he fancied Amy? And, now with Roland out of the way, did that mean Joshua expected a chance with his brother’s grief-stricken fiancée?
She gave him a covert glance from behind her lashes. “Amy’s beautiful, too.”
He stilled, the skin over his slanted cheekbones suddenly taut. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Her lashes swept up. Her eyes clashed with his frigid ones. “Just that you seem to admire her immensely.”
“You think I have the hots for my brother’s fiancée?” Darkness moved in his eyes.
“It would be understandable.”
Amy would be the perfect wife for Joshua Saxon. She was even Kay’s goddaughter. It was a no-brainer. “Amy is vulnerable right now. You’ll need to take care that she doesn’t view you as a rebound relationship.”
“I don’t need your pop-psychology advice. I don’t poach my brothers’ women.” His gaze was bleak. “Or at least, I never did. Not until the night I met you.”
What was that cryptic statement supposed to mean? A burst of adrenaline shot through Alyssa, quickly followed by a flare of desire.
What would happen if he learned Roland wasn’t his real brother. And that she, Alyssa, was Roland’s younger sister.
And what was the point of agonizing over it all. It was moot. Because Joshua would never learn the truth.
Despite the pale golden light of the sun, a cold shiver started at the base of her neck and inched down her spine, leaving Alyssa feeling like an emotional wasteland.
He moved away and Alyssa shut her eyes, and let the singing voices swirl around her. After what seemed an interminable time she heard car doors slam, the roar of engines starting.
Her shoulders sagged with relief. Conscious of the careless caress of the wind on her skin, of a tui whistling in a nearby phutukawa tree, Alyssa stood still as the cemetery rapidly emptied.
Finally, she opened her eyes. Only a few people remained. Joshua was gone. But the memory of his intensity as he’d told her that he didn’t want Amy suffering any more than she already was, remained vivid. What would it be like to be the focus of all that masculine protection?
She wished….
What was the point of wishing? The connection she’d sensed with Joshua had ended the minute he learned who she was. She was accustomed to being alone. As the indulged, only child of two older parents she’d grown up curiously isolated. She’d been thirteen when she’d discovered that she was adopted, that she’d been born Alice McKay—not Alyssa Blake.
She’d been so excited at the prospect of finding siblings … more family. But her mother had cried at the idea of Alyssa searching for her birth parents. For years Alyssa had put it off, fearful of upsetting Margaret. But finally she’d been compelled to make a start, secretly. Only after her mother’s death three years ago had she been able to focus single-mindedly on her quest.
She’d never tracked down her birth father. But she’d found her vacant-eyed birth mother in an institute for stroke victims and she’d become a regular visitor. But from the moment Alyssa discovered that she had a brother, she hadn’t rested.
She’d wanted to find him … Roland.
And now Roland was gone forever.
A cloud drifted across the sky and passed over the face of the sun, blocking out the sunlight and casting a shadow over the mound where Roland lay. Alyssa shivered.
Why? Why had she not forced the issue with Roland sooner, made him see her. They could’ve had a few weeks … months. She sighed. But would extra time have made any difference?
Alyssa supposed it wasn’t a big deal to him. Roland hadn’t needed a sister; he’d already had a sister—and two brothers. A whole proud, supportive family.
While, to her, finding her brother had become everything.
“Alice….” Kay spoke hesitantly from beside her.
She gave a start of surprise. “Call me Alyssa.” Alice was gone. Buried in the ground as surely as Roland was. Alice had existed only as evidence that she had once been someone else … someone with a brother.
Coming to a decision, Alyssa said flatly, “Joshua thinks that I’m Roland’s lover.” Alyssa still felt sullied by the accusation in his eyes. “I don’t like it—especially not since Roland was already engaged. I’d like you tell Joshua the truth, please.”
Kay shook her head, and gestured to the raw, new grave. “Roland is dead. Phillip and I don’t want the trauma of explaining to the children that he was never their blood brother.”
Children?