A Path Toward Love (23 page)

When he'd drained the glass and returned it to a waiter passing by, his Aunt Georgia appeared and pinned him to the wall right beneath a black bear's head. The poor, dead creature gazed down at him and seemed to empathize with sad, glassy eyes.

His aunt rose to her full height of five feet ten inches. Unlike most women, she only had to raise her chin slightly to meet his gaze almost eye to eye. In her high-heeled dance slippers she stood only a few inches shorter than he, and despite his own large frame, she must've outweighed him by fifty pounds. Her contralto voice rose clearly over the music.

“I've been watching Katherine,” she said in a guttural whisper. “Her gaze follows you wherever you go.”

Shocked his aunt would notice, he tried to hide his grin. “You must be mistaken. You know we've been friends for ages. But never anything more.”

Looking around, he saw Katherine across the room chatting with Randy. But, sure enough, she was glancing in his direction.

His aunt toyed with her long strand of pearls dangling over the bodice of her chocolate brown gown. “I'm wondering if you've given any thought to marrying? You're certainly at the right age.”

His throat dried. “You don't mean to Katherine, do you?” His attempt at a joke fell flat. He shouldn't tease her about something so near and dear to her heart.

“Of course not. We all expect her to marry Randy. Eventually. There's no question about that. I'm talking about
you
, Andrew. Do you have an interest in anyone?”

He shifted his weight from one foot to another. As much as he appreciated his aunt, he'd never let her manage his life as she was attempting to manage Randy's. Why was she suddenly so interested in his future plans? Did she perceive him as a threat?

“Not yet. To be blunt, I'm not in a financial position to marry.”

His parents had left him a small inheritance, but it was miniscule compared to the fortunes of the upper crust. He lived with Aunt Georgia and Uncle Clarence in their Fifth Avenue mansion, but if he married, he'd need a great deal of money to build a home and support a wife. The only ladies he knew came from the upper class. Yet no heiress would consider him a good catch. The only thing he had going in his favor was that his future at Mr. Wainwright's railroad appeared bright—that is, if he didn't lose his job over Katherine. His eyes returned to her. Right now he had a small nest egg, but it might take a decade to acquire a fortune large enough to be worthy of her interest. But could Katherine wait that long?

Aunt Georgia settled her gaze on a gaggle of young ladies across the dance floor giggling behind their fans. She gestured toward them. “Any one of those young ladies over there would certainly have you, regardless of your financial standing.”

He knew better. His lack of financial resources kept him firmly off-limits for all but the lowest in their social set, none of whom were present at the dance. “Which one do you suggest, Aunt?” he asked idly.

She scanned the different groups of girls, scarcely nineteen or twenty years old. Not a spinster or poor relation among them. “Perhaps Gertrude Breen or Jane Van Horn. They're both beauties. Do you have a preference?”

“No, not between Gertrude and Jane.”

“In that case why not ask Miss Van Horn to dance? She's so tall, she'll be thrilled with an even taller gentleman. They're hard to find, you know.” Aunt Georgia smiled. She topped her short, slight husband by several inches but didn't seem to mind a bit.

“All right, if you wish.” He bowed and made his way around the perimeter of the polished dance floor, weaving through knots of chattering friends. At least the decision had been made for him. He could dance with both Jane and Gertrude and then excuse himself for the evening.

When he asked Miss Van Horn to dance, her pinched smile vanished. “Yes, I'd be delighted.”

They glided through a waltz and swirled between the lines of dancers in a Virginia reel. But when he returned her to her friends, Mrs. Van Horn appeared with Rodney Peck, one of New York's richest heirs with a taste for polo and his father's mistresses.

“Good evening, Mr. Townsend,” Mamie Van Horn said between clenched teeth as she nudged closer to her daughter. “Jane dear, Rodney just mentioned he'd adore dancing with you. You don't want to disappoint him, do you?”

Andrew slipped away, his face hot from Mrs. Van Horn's intentional slight. He knew his aunt was wrong about his chances to marry well, and this proved it. Society daughters might find him acceptable, but their mothers didn't. He leaned against the rough wood of the wall, avoiding a crossed pair of snowshoes.

Dancers galloped to a catchy German polka and veered perilously close. Flying past him were Katherine and Randy again. Randy's face glowed, but Katherine appeared . . . delightfully distracted. Did he dare hope that she was still thinking about him? Them?

No one attracted him as much as she did, and no matter what anyone wanted, he wouldn't settle for second-best. But should he fight for Katherine when they both had so much to lose? He'd have to search his soul long and hard and pray for an answer. Because even if he were willing to give up his excellent position with Mr. Wainwright, he wasn't certain Katherine would thwart her family's desires for her future again.

After the dance, Randy offered Katherine his arm and together they strolled down the dark walkway. Other guests ambled toward the dining hall, where a midnight supper was in progress.

“Thank you for tonight, Randy,” she said, glancing sideways. “I didn't realize how much I missed dancing.” During her mourning period, and for the months following, she'd seldom socialized with her neighbors. There just wasn't enough time.

“I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. Leisure time isn't so bad, now is it?”

She hesitated a moment too long. “No, of course not. Interspersed with good purpose.”

He frowned. “You're not considering returning to Florida, are you? Don't tell me you like the heat and humidity in July and August, and all those awful bugs buzzing around and biting.”

She laughed. “I much prefer Camp Birchwood in the summer, but I do enjoy Florida during the rest of the year. And the groves . . . I so wish I could be there, just to make sure all is well, then return here to enjoy more of the summer. That's the difficulty, Randy. I want both.” She shook her head. “Does that make me greedy?”

He stared at her. “Greedy? No. Torn, perhaps. Like you belong in two different worlds.”

She looked up at him in wonder. That was exactly how she felt, in so many different ways. “You're right.”

He reached over and tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear and she stilled, resisting the urge to move away. “The tearing away might hurt for a while, Kat. But then it'd be over. Sometimes difficult choices have to be made. You should come back to our world. This world. Where you belong.”

She considered his words. “Maybe. Or maybe I belong there, not here.”

He stopped and let a few couples pass by. “What can possibly compare to this?” His eyes narrowed with a serious look she'd seldom seen before. “Return home, Katherine, do as your mother desires, and you can run off to Florida on holiday whenever you wish. Why go against her? Why choose such a difficult path?”

Katherine shrugged. “Sometimes the harder path leads to the most rewarding vistas. I could choose the easier way, the path of least resistance, but just think what I might be missing.”

He gripped her gloved fingers and pressed a little too tight. “Katherine, I'd be devastated if you left again. You belong with your family—and with me.”

“Thank you,” she managed to murmur. “You've been so kind in how you've welcomed me home, Randy. I'll always be grateful for that.”

For a moment she feared he'd leap ahead and propose marriage right here on the dimly lit walkway, but instead, he swallowed hard and loosened his grasp. “You mean a lot to me, Kat, and you always have. We've had such good times together in the past, and I hope we will in the future.”

Lifting her lips in a stiff smile, she kept her voice noncommittal. “I'm sure we will.” Katherine waited a few more nerve-wracking seconds for Randy to continue and make his intentions clear, if indeed he had any.

Randy looked like a man in search of just the right words, but definitely not someone driven mad by love. He didn't incite a passion that smoldered beneath his light-hearted personality, but she didn't mind at all. In fact, relief loosened all the knots in her stomach.
He feels the same about me as I do for him
.

Randy's shoulders tensed. “Are you listening to me?”

Blushing, she shook her head and focused her gaze back on his blinking eyes. “Forgive me, my mind drifted for a second.”

“I was saying we should spend more time really getting reacquainted. Let's do all the things we used to do when we were young. If I can pry you out of your Aunt Letty's cabin.”

Did he feel true affection for her or was he merely playing a role in a script written by their mothers?

She had to find out before Act Two began.

Chapter Fourteen

H
ours after Andrew retired, Randy pushed open their bedroom door and sang a tune in his rich tenor voice. Andrew buried his head under the soft pillow and tried to ignore his cousin.

Randy fell silent for a moment. Then, “Katherine's going to marry me. I'm convinced of it,” Randy crowed in the semidarkness lit only by the flicker of a kerosene lamp between their twin beds.

Andrew forced himself to casually rise, his heart pounding in his ears. “Have you asked her?” He turned up the bedside lamp, despising the slight shake in his hand.

“No, not yet.” Randy stood by his wardrobe, his hands jammed on his hips, his grin triumphant.

“Then how can you be so sure? Just because the mothers want it to happen doesn't mean Katherine does.” He hadn't meant to sound so grumpy—and jealous. Fortunately, Randy was not prone to take offense.

“She seemed amenable to me.” Randy kicked off his shoes scuffed from dancing all evening. “Who can tell what a woman is really thinking?”

Shaking his head, Andrew said, “You ask her. But I predict you won't catch Katherine as easily as you think. She's not ready for another marriage, or even courtship, as far as I can tell. And she plans to return to Florida to see to her harvest.”

“Or so she says. Maybe she's just playing hard to get. With my outrageous charm, combined with the pressure our mothers are exerting, I don't see how she can resist.”

Andrew felt sure Randy couldn't fight them either. Always one to take the easy route, he'd undoubtedly fold like a bad hand of cards. “Don't you fear . . . growing tired of her? I mean, since you're merely friends?” He was taking a stab, hoping it was true.

Randy winced. He pulled off his formal jacket and bow tie and tossed both on a chair for his valet to pick up. “You're not giving me much credit, Andrew. I shall never tire of Katherine. We're dear friends and everyone says that makes for the finest of marriages. Mother says that once I forget my flirtatious ways and settle down, I'll make for quite a good husband. I wager she's right.”

Andrew managed to make a sound that might pass as agreement. Over the course of the last several years he'd watched his cousin raise the hopes of many debutantes, and then drop them when he grew bored. He easily moved on to his next conquest without a backward glance. How would marriage change him? He doubted it would, regardless of what he said. He was merely parroting his mother. And if he fell into affair after affair, how would that affect Katherine, especially after Charles's infidelity?