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Authors: Karen Welch

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BOOK: Shannon's Daughter
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Hoping
the knot in his tie would pass if he encountered anyone on the way to his
room,
he again took Peg by the shoulders and turned her
toward the ballroom.
 
“Listen to me,
brat.
 
I want you to go straight to
whatever you’re supposed to be doing tonight.
 
Find Mrs. Leary and get your hair washed.
 
No lurking in the hall waiting to distract me,
no more luring me into cupboards and absolutely no more. . .”
 
He involuntarily glanced over his shoulder at
the room’s entrance and dropped his voice to an emphatic hiss.
 
“No more kissing!
 
Promise?”

She
turned to him, disappointment evident in her eyes and the downturn of her
mouth.
 
“You didn’t like it.”

“No, I
didn’t like it!
 
I
adored
it!
 
That’s the whole
trouble.
 
You’re testing my upbringing as
a gentleman and proving me a failure!
 
Peg, please,
don’t
look like that!”
 
It was impossible not to reach out and touch
her cheek when her eyes glimmered with tears.
 
“Sweetheart,” he went on softly, “you can’t expect me to resist if you
offer yourself so freely.
 
Don’t you
understand that a man has pathetically little aversion to taking whatever he
desires, regardless of how wrong he may know it would be?”

Her
eyes brightened perceptibly.
 
“You really desire.me?”

“Good
God, Peg, of course I do!
 
Any man
would.
 
That’s just my point.”

She
seemed to mull over the idea, her eyes never leaving his.
 
“And I guess that’s what I feel for you.
 
Desire, I mean.
 
So why do we have to resist it?
 
Isn’t that what a man and woman are supposed
to feel for each other?”

He took
a moment to grasp the truth of the matter.
 
Difficult as it was to believe, it appeared Peg had been so sheltered,
or so disinterested, that she really had no idea of the dangers associated with
desire.
 
Her exclusive Catholic girls’
school should have provided a more comprehensive education.
 
It had ironically fallen to him to teach her
not only the pleasures of the thing, but the hazards.
 

“Peg,
surely you understand the result of giving in to our desire?
 
Not that I would ever want to hurt you, but
even I can’t guarantee my conduct if given certain opportunities.”

She
made a little face.
 
“You’re being stuffy
again.
 
You do that when you’re
uncomfortable, don’t you?”

He
smiled down at her, relieved at a glimpse of the old Peg.
 
“Yes, I expect so.
 
Let me try again.
 
When we kiss like that, and most especially
when you touch me the way you did just now, my body responds to you in a way
that—no matter what my mind says—I can’t control.
 
When a man becomes aroused, the urge to make
love becomes overwhelming.
 
Do you
understand?”
 

Her
answer was far from encouraging.
 
“You
wanted to make love to me?”

He let
out an exasperated groan.
 
“Never mind
what I wanted.
 
What I’m trying to tell
you is that you can’t afford to push any man too far.
 
The consequences could be dire.”

“Now
you’re talking about getting pregnant, aren’t you?”

“That
and other things as well.
 
There are emotions involved in the act of
making love, especially for a woman.
 
You
could be hurt in so many ways, simply by giving in to a moment of passion with
a man who didn’t really care about you.
 
Surely even you can understand that!”

“What
do you mean, even me?”
 
Anger sparked in her eyes so suddenly he felt
as though he’d been struck.

“Only
that you seem to be so innocent of these things.
 
Didn’t they teach you anything in school
about the evils of men and the weakness of the flesh?
 
I thought Catholic children were raised on
the consequences of sin.”

As
quickly as it had flared, her anger evaporated and she smiled.
 
“They are.
 
But I don’t believe something’s really a sin unless it hurts
someone.
 
I suppose there was something
about all that other, too, but I wasn’t really interested.
 
I never thought I’d need to know, since I
have no intention of getting involved with men that way.”
 

“Is
that right?
 
So what exactly did you
think you were doing with me in that cupboard just now?”
 
He smiled back, struck by something almost impertinent
in her expression.

“But you’re
different.
 
You don’t see me just as
Michael Shannon’s daughter.
 
You know me.
 
And I think you care about me, at least a
little.”
 

“And
other men will care about you too.
 
Give
them time.
 
Before long, the street out
front will be lined with men who want to show you how much they care.”

She
turned away with a little humph of disgust.
 
“And they can stay out there.
 
Kendall,
don’t you understand that no one will ever be attracted to
me
?
 
They’ll be attracted to
my father’s daughter, just the way they will be to his money and his
power.”
 

Stunned
by the matter-of-factness in her voice, he reached out to catch her arm.
 
“You don’t really believe that?”

“Of
course I do.
 
I know it.
 
I’ve always known it.
 
I am my father’s daughter
and
his heir.
 
Any man who
looks at me will see that and only that.
 
But I thought you were different.”

He
pulled her gently into his arms, overcome by the need to prove that he was
indeed different.
 
“Oh my darling girl,
you’re so wrong.
 
One day, you’ll meet a
man worthy of you, who’ll love you for the woman you are.
 
You’re much too young yet to give up on what
every girl dreams of.”

She was
rigid in his arms, a sign he’d failed to convince her.
 
“It’s all right, you know.
 
It’s enough to find out that at least a man
like you thinks I’m desirable.”
 
Her
voice, muffled against his chest, was still matter-of-fact.
 
In another minute, he would have to show her
just how desirable she was, and just how much he cared.
 
Holding her like this set his heart pounding in
a different rhythm, one driven by his desire, not to make love to her, but to
prove to her just how deserving she was of a man’s devotion.
 

“You’re
wrong, and I intend to keep trying to prove that.
 
But for now, it’s getting late.
 
They’ll come looking for you, if you don’t go
back downstairs.”

“What
are you going to do?”

“Me?
 
I’m going to get my violin, lock myself in
here and practice.”
 
At least, he wanted
to add, that’s something I know how to do.
 
Erasing a lifetime of disillusionment would be another matter
altogether.

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

For
almost two hours he sought calm and balance in the music.
 
As evidence of just how deeply Peg had
affected him, he failed to find more than a return to reason.
 
The impact of not only his desire for her and
his recognition of how vulnerable she was, but his intensely emotional response
to her, had shaken him badly.
 
Most
unsettling of all, he was eager for more of the same, which caused him to
repeatedly lose focus as his mind wandered to where she might be just now and
what she might be doing.

Impatiently
laying aside his instrument, he stepped onto the balcony overlooking the dark
garden below.
 
The air, surprisingly
fresh for a summer night in the city, touched his face and stirred through his
hair as he inhaled deeply, releasing his breath in an audible sigh.
 

“Hi!
 
Have you finished practicing?”
 
He started, taking a step back at the sound of
Peg’s voice from directly below.
 
His
eyes adjusting to the darkness, he could just make out a seated figure in the
shadows.
 

“Good
heavens!
 
Are you still up?”

“Of
course I am.
 
I’m drying my hair.
 
Have you finished?
 
It was nice.
 
I’ve been listening.”
 
Still
unable to make out her face, he smiled down nonetheless.

“Have
you?
 
Yes, I’m done for the night.”

“Then
come down here.
 
If you need a snack, there’s
lemonade and cookies.”
 
And you, he
added.
 
God help me, but what I need is
you.

He
forced himself to calmly pack the violin and return it to his room, all the
while telling himself that this time he would take control of the
situation.
 
In all of his encounters with
women, he made it a rule never to let his emotions become engaged.
 
Why should Peg, so obviously out of his
reach, do what others, easily available and far more experienced, had not?
 
He headed downstairs determined to prove that
he could keep his head, see past the allure of youthful flirtation, and put her
in her proper place before she ran roughshod over him again.

The
sound of voices in the study warned him that the others were still up.
 
At the foot of the stairs he turned sharply
toward the rear of the house, very nearly colliding with his mother.
 

“Goodness,
darling, you’re in a hurry!”

“Not
really.
 
Just heading
to the kitchen for something cold to drink.
 
You’re up past your bedtime, aren’t you?”

“Just
going up now.
 
Did you practice?”
 
She leaned against the banister, settling in
for a chat.

“Yes.
 
And now please excuse me, Mum, but I’ll say
goodnight.
 
I really am parched.”
 
He could feel her gaze following his rapid
retreat toward the kitchen.
 
Interrogation avoided for tonight, but at some point he’d have to face
the inevitable.
 
Eloise would not rest
until she spoke her mind with regard to Peg and the time he was spending with
her.
 
Just how he would divert her from
the truth, he hadn’t decided, but telling her anything close to the facts was
out of the question.
 

The
kitchen was deserted.
 
Through the bay
window, he spotted Peg reclining in a lounge chair, her hair draped over the
back.
 
His steps slowed as he took in the
luxuriant waves all but touching the brick floor of the patio.
 
He was captivated, imagining the silky
strands sifting through his fingers, releasing the scent of lemons beneath his
touch.
 
“Steady, Gregg, steady.
 
The night is young,” he muttered as he
approached the door.
 
A shiver of uncertainty
crept along his spine.
 
He was walking blithely
into what might well be another ambush.

“There
you are.
 
I thought you’d decided not to
come after all.”
 
Peg raised a hand in
greeting.
 
“Help yourself.
 
I’d get up, but I’m too comfortable.”

A
little table near her chaise bore a plate of biscuits, a pitcher and two glasses.
 
He took up the sweating pitcher and filled a
tall glass.
 
The only seat close by was a
low bench and he eased himself across from her, grateful that his position gave
him the advantage of seeing without being seen.
 
Peg had changed into shorts and a simple sleeveless blouse covered in
tiny flowers.
 
Caught in the light from
the window, her long legs were crossed gracefully on the chaise, while the rest
of her remained cloaked in soft shadow.
 
He held his breath for a moment, drinking in the sight before chuckling
at her greeting.
 

“You do
look relaxed.”

“It’s
been a long day.
 
And I love having my
hair washed.
 
The music helped too.
 
It sounded sad.”

“Bruch.
 
Not sad, just meditative.
 
I must say, you have an awful lot of
hair.
 
It’s quite amazing to see it
hanging loose like that.”

“I’ve
never really cut it.
 
I will, I’m sure,
someday.
 
It’s an awful lot of
trouble.”
 
With one slender arm, she
reached back to touch the trailing waves.

“I
don’t remember it curling up like that when you were younger.”

“It
only does this when it’s first washed.
 
A
few days in braids and it’ll straighten out.”

“I
quite like it this way.”
 
He hadn’t
intended for the comment to sound so awed, but at just that moment she sat up,
shaking her head and sending a cascade around her shoulders.

“Thank
you.
 
No one ever sees it like this.
 
It’s not at all fashionable to go around with
your hair hanging down to your waist.
 
Connie makes fun of me.”

“Connie
clearly has no eye for beauty.”

Peg
laughed softly.
 
“That’s another
compliment, isn’t it?

“Yes, I
admit it.
 
You seem to drag them out of
me.
 
Especially when you look like you do
just now.”
 
He was making love to her
with his eyes, stroking those satiny legs and burying his face in her
hair.
 
Fortunately, his face was
concealed by darkness, but his wretched voice was another matter entirely.
 
He cleared his throat in an effort to gain
control, the very thing he’d so arrogantly vowed to maintain in her presence.

“Kendall,
are you flirting with me now?”

“I’m
afraid so.
 
Perhaps it’s the effects of
this lemonade.”
 

She
laughed again.
 
“I thought maybe it was
because of what happened upstairs.”
 
She
sat forward, hugging her knees and bringing her face into the light.
 
“I probably owe you an apology.
 
I got very carried away.
 
I don’t suppose a nice girl does that to a
man, does she?
 
Maybe now you don’t think
I’m a nice girl?”

“On
the contrary.
 
I think you’re extremely nice, just a bit
impulsive.
 
I thought we agreed to forget
what happened up there.”

Sitting
cross-legged on the foot of the chaise, Peg gathered her hair beneath one ear
and began twisting it into a loose braid.
 
Mesmerized by the deft motion of her fingers through the gleaming
chestnut lengths, he lost the train of their conversation until she said with a
sigh, “I don’t really want to forget it though.
 
It was very nice.
 
I liked it a
lot, you know.”

Setting
aside his glass, he leaned forward.
 
“I’ll tell you a little secret.
 
I
liked it, too.
 
Far more than I should
have.”

“I
still don’t quite understand what’s wrong with it.
 
I’ve been sitting here thinking about it and
I know you’re trying to be a gentleman, but if I want you to kiss me, why
shouldn’t you?
 
Other boys have tried to
and I said no, but I would never say no to you.
 
I like you.”
 
The fact that she
was looking him straight in the eye with the most earnest of expressions sent a
thrill pulsing through his chest.
 

“And I
like you, Peg.
 
You make it very
difficult to argue with that sort of logic.
 
But I must remind you that we’re hardly two ordinary people.
 
My mother is married to your uncle.
 
I’m a guest in your father’s house.
 
Then there’s the fact that I’m a good bit
older and more experienced and therefore the one who would be held responsible
should anyone disapprove of our interest in one another.”

“I’d
take the blame, if anyone got upset.
 
I’m
not a child, you know.”
 
She twisted her
lips in a pout, her eyes glittering.
 
“And maybe your mother wouldn’t approve, but I’m pretty sure I could
make Dad see there’s nothing wrong with our being friends.
 
Especially if I tell him how much I enjoy
your company and how protective of me you are.”

“Have
you ever lost an argument, brat?
 
Your
skills at debate are commendable.
 
I’ll
be damned if I can come up with any reason not to follow you into the nearest
cupboard whenever possible when you put it like that.”
 
He took a deep breath, watching as she
finished off the braid with a scrap of ribbon, blue like the ones on she’d worn
that day in Ireland, when she
had
been a child and he had first been overwhelmed with his unexplainable
attachment to her.
 
“But seriously, there
must be rules in this friendship.
 
And
you must abide by them.
 
No more attacking
me when my guard is down and dragging me into cupboards the way you did
tonight.”

She
frowned, tossing the braid over her shoulder.
 
“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not really.
 
And it was a closet, not a cupboard.
 
You’re in New York now.
 
But if
you agree to stop lecturing me, I’ll agree to a little more restraint.
 
How’s that?”

“A
little more?
 
Is that the best you can do?”

She
nodded solemnly.
 
“I think so.”

“Ah.
 
Well, at least I’ve been warned.”
 
He took her hand, studying it for a moment in
the light.
 
“You realize you’re
compromising all of my principles?
 
I was
determined to keep you at arm’s length.”

The
frown deepened.
 
“Why were you determined
to keep me at arm’s length?”

“Because
I’m not the man for you, Peg.
 
I never will be.
 
As long as we keep that in mind and stay
within the bounds of friendship, I suppose we can allow ourselves to enjoy one
another a bit.”

“I
promise I won’t fall in love with you, if that’s what you’re worried about.
 
I may have a little crush on you,
though.
 
I think I have ever since that
summer in Ireland.
 
Does that sound ridiculous
to you, that a fifteen-year-old girl could have feelings like that for a grown
man?”

“No,
brat, not ridiculous at all.
 
If you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll
confess to something myself.”
 
Clasping
her hand between his palms, he touched her fingertips to his lips.

“What’s
that?”

“I
think I’ve had a crush on you too.
 
And
I’m pretty sure that does sound ridiculous.”
 
When he released her hand and reached for her, she slid to the edge of
the chaise, opening her arms.
 
Shrouded in
darkness now, he gathered her close, not passionately but tenderly, sensing
something soft and needy in her as she hugged him tightly.
 
“Promise me something else?”

“Yes?”

BOOK: Shannon's Daughter
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