Garden of Shadows by V. C. Andrews Page A

realized that this child woman was his bride! My entire being was shaken. Why hadn't Malcolm told me? I turned to stare at him accusingly, but the face I saw was hardly recognizable as Malcolm's, so contorted was it with shock.
"My God," Malcolm said, "she's pregnant!" I knew what his concerns were--another heir. His face was bright purple and he clenched his hands into fists. "She's pregnant!" he repeated as if to confirm it for himself.
Indeed she was. The otherwise delicate, slender, and fresh-looking young lady with bright chestnut hair looked to me to be in her final months. Garland saw us in the doorway and waved vigorously, taking Alicia by the elbow to lead her on.
He didn't look as though he had aged much since he had begun his journey. I had photographs with which to judge. If anything, taking such a prolonged trip and marrying so beautiful a young woman had made him look younger. I saw a great many physical resemblances between him and Malcolm, of course, but there was a lightness to Garland's step and a warmth in his smile that Malcolm lacked.
Garland was nearly the same height and had the same broad shoulders. He looked fit, vigorous, energetic. It didn't surprise me that such a young girl would be attracted to him. He looked rather dapper in his light sport jacket and tan trousers.
And his wife was positively radiant. She moved lightly, gracefully, toward us for an introduction.
She had large blue eyes and one of those peaches- and-cream complexions usually found only in magazines. She had a soft, gentle mouth and a small, slightly turned-up nose. I was immediately envious of her delicate, feminine features. Her hands were so small and her neck so smooth and graceful. In many ways she reminded me of Corinne, Malcolm's mother, and I understood why Garland Foxworth would have pursued her and taken her for his second wife. When he had first seen her, he probably envisioned Corinne the way she was when he had first set his eyes on her crossing that street in
Charlottesville.
I turned quickly to Malcolm to see his reaction to her. His eyes grew small, his gaze intense. Although he had prepared himself to be stern and coldly formal when they arrived, I saw his face softening. What kind of a woman had he expected? I wondered. Or was she what he had expected and that was why he looked so affected.
"Malcolm, you look absolutely . . . older," his father said, and laughed. "Alicia, this is your stepson. Malcolm, your stepmother, Alicia."
Malcolm looked at his father. I saw the cold sneer come into his face.
"Mother? Welcome, Mother," he said, and extended his hand. Alicia smiled and took it but let go almost immediately and turned to me, as did Garland.
"This," Malcolm said, pronouncing his words sharply, slowly, "is Mrs. Foxworth, Mrs. Malcolm Neal Foxworth. Olivia," he said.
"Well, well. How do you do, Olivia," Garland said. Coldness filled my chest. I could tell from the look on Garland's face that Malcolm had never written him to tell him he had gotten married. Which meant, he didn't even know he had two grandchildren!
"Why didn't you tell me?" Alicia asked Garland. She had such an innocent, simple way about her. Garland, knowing his son well, would rather have ignored this embarrassing moment. I could sense that. Later on, in private, he might discuss it with him and voice his unhappiness about such a surprise. "Garland?"
"Simply because I didn't know, my love," he said, staring at Malcolm. I could see that self-satisfied expression around Malcolm's eyes, the expression he usually took on when he had gotten the better of someone. "How long have you two been married?"
"Well over three years'," Malcolm said.
"We have two children," I said, impatient with the way Malcolm was stalling them in front of the house and rationing the news. "Both boys."
"Both boys? Well, what do you know! Alicia, you're a grandmother before you are a mother. Boys!"
Alicia smiled warmly as Garland embraced her, pressing her to him with such