The Widow and the Wastrel Page 7

  Silently she acknowledged that his dark evening clothes suited him. It wasn't until they had arrived at the club that she noticed it was not the suit she had picked out for him. The entrance lights fully illuminated the expertly tailored suit as he opened the car door for her, offering a hand out. Elizabeth frowned her bewilderment. The material of his suit and the white silk shirt were much more expensive than any she had seen locally.

  "What's the matter?" One corner of his mouth lifted as he tossed the car keys to the parking attendant. He touched the dark lapel with his finger. "Don't you like the suit?"

  "Yes," she answered quickly, avoiding the roguish light glittering in his eyes. She made a pretense of adjusting her rectangular shawl. "It's just that you didn’t mention that you'd bought anything when you went to Cleveland last week."

  "I wasn't aware that I needed to," he replied, lightly touching her elbow to guide her around the car to where Rebecca waited.

  Pressing her lips tightly together, Elizabeth didn't comment. Jed had been absent most of the week, a situation that had preyed on her nerves since she had never been entirely certain when he might turn up. His explanations, even to his mother, as to where he had been were vague and uninformative. Elizabeth couldn't make up her mind whether his mysteriousness was deliberate or merely an extension of his personality.

  When they reached Rebecca's side, she preceded them into the club, her head tilted regally as though she were leading a royal procession. In answer, heads turned at their approach. Curiosity was the main reaction, cloaked in the guise of greeting. The farther they walked into the small reception area where cocktails were being served, the more conscious Elizabeth became of another reaction.

  Her gaze slid sideways to the man at her side. Six foot, lean, with thick, carelessly waving tobacco brown hair and rakishly carved features, Jed Carrel was a compellingly attractive man. He was not the handsomest or the tallest man in the room. And Elizabeth realized that he was not holding everyone's attention simply because he was a Carrel or because he was a Carrel who had become an outcast by his family.

  Perhaps a part of it was the worldly look in his eyes, that intimation that he had seen and experienced much without ever revealing what had happened. But more, Elizabeth knew, with a certainty that it was the potent virility, his maleness that silently challenged women.

  She was still making a surreptitious study of him when Jed turned his head and held her gaze. In that charged second she knew that he had been aware of her inspection all along. It was there in the laughing glitter of his eyes.

  "What do you suppose they're thinking?" he murmured to her in an aside as he nodded and greeted the various people who were acknowledging them.

  Elizabeth gave a quick hello to Mr. Shaw and his wife before answering Jed's question in a voice as soft as his. "That you've grown into a fine-looking man." The smile she gave him as she looked into his face was cool and controlled. "No doubt the mothers are wondering if they should let their daughters near you and—" pausing for emphasis, "whether they're too old to catch you themselves."

  His quiet chuckle touched only her ears. "I didn't expect cynicism from you, Liza."

  The captivation in his smile caught her by surprise. She hadn't realized he could be so charming if he chose. She quickly averted her gaze, feeling the warmth rising in her neck, but bringing only an attractive pink tint to her cheeks.

  "I didn't mean it to sound cynical," she replied.

  At that moment Barbara Hopkins detached herself from a younger group of adults and glided forward to meet Elizabeth. Her friend's eyes kept straying to Jed, leaving Elizabeth in little doubt as to whom she was really interested in meeting. It was only natural, she supposed. After all, Jed could be classified as an eligible bachelor and there wasn't an abundance of unattached males in Carrelville.

  "Elizabeth!" Barbara called gaily, reaching out with a ringed hand in greeting. "That's a stunning gown."

  Patiently Elizabeth returned the greeting and compliment, before introducing Jed. Barbara's coy gaze vaguely irritated Elizabeth when it was directed at Jed, but he didn't seem to find it too sweet.

  "So you are Elizabeth's tennis friend?" he smiled, holding Barbara's hand longer than Elizabeth thought was necessary.

  "Oh, yes, we play at least once a week. Do you play, Mr. Carrel?"

  "Jed, please," he corrected smoothly with a brief inquiring tilt of his head, "if I may call you Barbara?" His answer was a wide, satisfied smile of agreement, "I do play tennis, although not recently."

  "Perhaps we can arrange a game of doubles." Barbara glanced pointedly at Elizabeth, letting her know it wasn't an idle suggestion. "You'll have to persuade Allan to be your partner."

  The reference to Allan Marsden made Elizabeth conscious of the man standing to her left. At the mention of his name, he stepped forward, handing Elizabeth one of the drinks he held in his hand.

  "Hello, Elizabeth. I've been waiting for you to come." He smiled pleasantly as he spoke, a vague questioning light in his eyes.

  Not meeting his gaze squarely, she replied, "there was a last-minute adjustment of the schedules," completely aware that she had put him off escorting her tonight because she was supposed to be here early.

  Jed's hand shifted from her elbow to the back of her waist as he leaned around her, a faint intimacy in his touch that she found unnerving. "You must be Allan Marsden. Elizabeth has mentioned you." He extended his hand. "I'm Jed Carrel."

  "Welcome home," Allan said, shaking the hand firmly and smiling. "I imagine that's been said to you many times."

  Tawny eyes slid to Elizabeth, mocking her quickly ricocheting look. "Not all that many times that I've grown tired of hearing it," Jed responded.

  Her fingers tightened around the cocktail glass Allan had given her as she wondered if anyone had told Jed that before. Certainly she hadn't, and neither had his mother. It would be ironic if his first words of welcome were given by a stranger. Ironic and cruel.

  "I see you've been here long enough to locate the cocktail bar," Jed observed, glancing to the iced drink in Allan's hand.

  "Let me show you where it is," Barbara offered quickly.

  Her friend was wasting no time in staking a claim on Jed, Elizabeth thought with a flash of bitterness that surprised her. Jed's gaze laughed openly at the darkening green of her eyes.

  "You will excuse me, won't you, little sister?" The grooves around his mouth deepened with a suppressed smile.

  "Of course," she nodded. Her skin felt suddenly cool where his hand had warmed the back of her waist. Some of the chill crept into her voice, tight and dull.

  "He certainly isn't what I expected," Allan commented quietly as he watched Jed being slowly led through the crowd by Barbara.

  "Oh? Why not?" Elizabeth asked. Her attempt at vague interest came out frosty and defensive.

  Allan glanced at her sharply, taking his time in wording his answer. "From the rumors I've heard since his return, I suppose I expected someone more belligerent and arrogant. His self-assurance and easy charm caught me by surprise, I guess."

  "I suppose it would." Elizabeth didn't want to discuss Jed, averting her gaze from his hypnotic form still discernible on the far side of the room.

  "Was your husband like him?"

  "They were very nearly total opposites," she answered curtly. Then with an abrupt change of subject, she inserted, "I want to apologize for the mixup this evening. I hope you didn't arrive too early thinking to find me here."

  "No, I didn't." Allan followed her lead.

  But it was impossible to completely avoid the topic of Jed. Nearly everyone she and Allan talked to had some comment or question about him. And her sensitive radar never lost track of where he was located in the room. No matter how casually she glanced around the room, her gaze invariably homed in on Jed. She couldn't avoid noticing that he had that ability to hold himself apart from others, while appearing to join in with their laughter and conversation.

  At the long dinner ta
ble, Elizabeth and Allan were seated on the opposite side of the table from Jed and ever-constant Barbara. Fortunately they were several chairs down the table. Yet Elizabeth couldn't avoid seeing him whenever she glanced in that direction.

  As the meal progressed, she found herself becoming sickened by her girlfriend's actions. The way Barbara kept leaning confidentially toward him and accidentally brushing against him robbed her appetite. The boldness of the flirtation left little to the imagination of the onlookers, and they were many. Jed did not rebuff Barbara's advances. In fact, Elizabeth was certain that the amused interest in his eyes was meant to encourage.

  By the time the last course was served, anger was smouldering inside her, igniting into hot flames whenever her eyes wavered toward Jed, which was becoming increasingly often. The merry sound of Barbara's laughter drew her gaze again, and this time it was met and held by Jed's. As his mouth quirked in lazy amusement at one corner, Elizabeth realized her eyes were revealing her distaste and disgust for their conduct.

  Then Barbara's hand was touching the sleeve of his suit jacket in light possession, drawing his attention back to her. Elizabeth stared at her untouched dessert plate, her nerves so taut that she felt at any moment they would snap. Smiling stiffly at Allan, she excused herself from the table. She cursed silently at the way she was drawing attention to herself, but she didn't care. She had to get away from the table to regain her perspective.

  In the powder room, she waved aside the administrations of the attendant, taking deep, calming breaths and willing herself to relax the tense cords in her neck. Turning on the cold water tap, she let the chilling liquid stream over the insides of her wrists to cool the feverish heat in her veins.

  When she left the powder room, Elizabeth still didn't feel sufficiently in control to return to the table. Luckily her role as chairman of the dinner committee allowed her to enter the kitchens without a questioning look as to her motives. She deliberately took her time waiting until the moment when the guests were leaving the dining area to return to the reception room where a small dance band had been engaged to play.

  Unfortunately Allan was standing with Jed and Barbara. Elizabeth hesitated for an instant, about to change direction, when Jed saw her. Fixing a smile on her face, she tried to pretend that she had just that moment seen them, but she didn't think Jed was fooled.

  "Is everything in order?" Allan inquired with a welcoming smile.

  "It seems to be," she answered in what she hoped sounded like a satisfied sigh.

  "I'm glad my only responsibility was in selling tickets," said Barbara, her hand resting on the inside of Jed's arm. "Now I can simply enjoy the party."

  "How astute of Elizabeth to select you to sell tickets," Jed murmured, glancing at the blonde. "I doubt that there was a man in town who refused to buy one from you, unless his wife was around."

  "Jed Carrel!" Barbara sounded properly shocked, but it was only a pose.

  Elizabeth moistened her lips and turned to Allan. "I hear the band is very good," she said.

  As if on cue, the, band struck the opening chord of the first song. A hand lightly touched her arm. Elizabeth stared at its owner, unable to keep the disdain from glittering viridescently in her eyes at Jed's touch.

  "It's only fitting," he said quietly, a mocking challenge in his gaze, "that since a Carrel is mainly responsible for this evening, we should lead the first dance."

  If she hadn't been so certain that it was what Jed expected, she would have refused. Instead she inclined her head in agreement and allowed him to take her hand. She sensed that neither Allan nor Barbara approved, but there wasn't any way they could protest.

  Two couples had started on to the empty dance floor at the band's prelude to 'Beautiful Ohio'. They stepped near the edge when they saw Jed leading Elizabeth on to the floor. In the center of the floor, he turned her into his arms and stopped. His eyes swept over her almost grimly unenthusiastic expression with a lazily relaxed study.

  "I feel as if I'm holding a cold fish. Loosen up, Liza," Jed chided softly. "And smile. You're not going to an execution."

  "I'm not?" But she smiled sweetly, forcing her muscles to become pliant under his gliding touch as he led her into the first step.

  The firm pressure of the hand at her back made it easy for her to follow his lead. With each step she became more fluid, the rigidity lessening as if answering the challenge of his natural grace. From the first he had held her gaze. Now Elizabeth found herself becoming fascinated by the darkening amber hues. They glided twice around the floor before the first couple joined them. Jed slowed their steps and confined their route to a smaller area of the floor.

  "Isn't it better to have these duty dances over in the beginning?" The spell of the dreamy, sentimental tune was broken by his faintly sarcastic tone.

  Breaking free of his compelling features, Elizabeth stared at the contrast of the white shirt collar against the dark tan of his throat. Her own throat felt dry and parched, caused no doubt by the heat that was emanating from the hand spread on her back and the rock-firm muscles of his thighs.

  "Yes, much better," Elizabeth agreed huskily, straining slightly against his arm so she wouldn't be held too closely against his hips.

  "Now everyone is saying how very well we dance together." From her side vision she could see that his eyes never left her face, although her own made a quick sweep of the room to affirm his statement. They were the object of much interested scrutiny, "Had I not danced with you, they would have been wondering all night why."

  "Would you have cared?" she challenged.

  Jed grinned. "I wonder what the townspeople would say if they knew how easily sarcasm slips from the alluring mouth of the young and beautiful widow Carrel. That's what they call you, you know—the young widow Carrel." The line of his firm mouth became crooked with derision. "They regard you as a courageous figure, rising above the tragedy that befell you so young, always behaving with the utmost decorum, and faithful to the loving memory of your husband. Perhaps you should apply for sainthood?"

  A betraying crimson flush raged across her face. "Must you make it sound as if it's something I should be ashamed of?"

  "Blushing—another rare commodity." There was the sensation of an invisible shrug. "I've always been skeptical of the "goody two-shoes" in the world, maybe because very early in life I became tired of being reminded what a good boy Jeremy was when I knew all along that he wasn't any different from me. I took the blame for some of his pranks too many times."

  "Must we discuss Jerry?" Elizabeth demanded uneasily. There was the sickening knowledge that she couldn't visualize her husband's face without the benefit of his picture.

  "Is the memory too painful?" Jed taunted, his eyes narrowing on her averted profile.

  Ebony dark curls touched the bareness of her back as she tilted her head to direct the flaring resentment in her green eyes up to his face. She longed to startle him with the admission that her recollection of those brief moments as Jeremy's wife was hazy, that she had almost forgotten he had ever existed until Jed returned. The memory of her first meeting with Jed was clearer and more vivid than her wedding night with her husband, his brother. She obeyed the inner caution that checked the admission.

  "Think what you like," she replied bitterly. "You will anyway, regardless of what I say."

  "Do you know what I'm thinking?" he murmured with piercing softness. "I'm curious why you're so defensive every time I mention his name."

  "Maybe it's because, you are so offensive," she retorted.

  The song ended and she moved as swiftly as possible out of his arms. Her legs were treacherously unsteady. She realized that they had been all along, but the firmness of Jed's supporting hold had blinded her to it. His rangy stride had him at her side almost instantly, an arm circling the back of her waist as he guided her off the dance floor.

  "Out of condition?" he mocked in an undertone.

  "I believe it's the immense relief I feel that I don't have to dance wi
th you again," Elizabeth muttered savagely beneath her breath.

  "Ah, there's your adoring Allan," Jed smiled wickedly, "waiting patiently for me to return you to him. Do you know, he reminds me of Jerry?"

  "He doesn't look at all like him," she answered sharply, secure in that statement since Alan was light-complected and Jeremy had been dark.

  "Not in looks," he chuckled, "in temperament. Your Allan will never make waves. He'd be too concerned he'd upset the boat he was in."

  "What's the matter, Jed?" Her temper flared. "Are you jealous because Allan has made a success of his life while you've come home a failure?"

  "Oh, Liza!" Anger trembled in the sighing way Jed spoke her name despite the tight control in his voice. He breathed in deeply, caution lights flashing in his narrowed look. "You make waves, too, don't you?"

  Elizabeth almost ran the last few steps to Allan, intimidated more than she cared to admit by the anger she had provoked. There was the frightening knowledge that she had been making waves and the last one had nearly swamped her boat. Allan was the lifeline and she clung to his hand tightly.

  Barbara had been waiting with Allan and she stepped forward quickly to meet Jed. He smiled at her as if in answer to the silent promise in her eyes. The same feeling of distaste began to tie Elizabeth's stomach into knots again.

  "I'm in need of a drink, Barbara," Jed stated, sliding a still smouldering look to Elizabeth. "Why don't you lead me to the bar again?"

  "Would you like a cocktail?" Allan offered.

  Elizabeth felt in need of a burning jolt of alcohol, but not for anything did she want to follow Jed and Barbara. She refused firmly, the vigorous shake of her head trying to dispel the warning voices that kept whispering to her.

  The evening had been hopelessly ruined, but she fought against it, determined to have as much fun as Jed. Allan was most attentive and her smiles and laughter encouraged him even more. It was unkind and unfair to focus her green eyes on him whenever Jed's shadow fell on her. No matter how hard she tried, Elizabeth was unable to ignore him.