The Widow and the Wastrel (4 page)

"Don't discount the pull of your childhood home. You can pull the roots out, but you always leave some behind," Jed replied.

"Is that why you've come?" she asked, still not accepting the slightly ambiguous answer he'd come up with.

"That's why I've come here," he agreed. "But I think I returned to the States for a breath of civilization."

"When will you be leaving?"

"Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never," he shrugged, white teeth flashing as he bit into the slice of toast.

"I don't understand why you've come back now." She brushed the raven hair away from her face, a tiny frown creasing her forehead.

"You probably don't even know why I left, do you?" The hard mouth moved into a wry smile.

"I know you argued with your parents," Elizabeth hedged.

Jed pushed the empty plate towards the center of the table. "All the time I was growing up it was one argument after another. Foolishly I kept believing that I could make my parents understand that all I wanted was to live my own life. When you and Jeremy became engaged, I'd been kicked out of three law schools. My father gave me the news that night that he had used his influence and money to get me accepted into another. He refused to accept that I didn't want to be a lawyer, that I wanted no part of the family business. A couple of days later I left."

"I see," she murmured.

"I doubt it." His voice was coated with bitter mockery. It brought her head up sharply. "Truthfully I didn't expect to find you here when I came back."

"Where did you think I'd be?" Elizabeth laughed shortly in confusion.

"Married. You're a beautiful woman." It was a statement more than a compliment. "I can't believe there haven't been offers."

"I haven't dated all that much since Jeremy died, and not with anyone on a regular basis." Elizabeth turned her back on him, seeking to change the subject. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Please." When she set the cup before him, Jed asked, "Why have you avoided seeing anyone regularly?"

"I haven't avoided it," she answered sharply, responding to the hint of mockery in his tone. "I simply haven't had a great deal of free time. A person doesn't when they have children."

"Free time can be arranged if the desire is great enough," he observed. "Wasn't Jerry able to arouse a great enough desire?"

His jeering question jerked her chin up. "We were very happy together," Elizabeth stated with a frigid anger. "Which is probably why I haven't been interested in anyone else."

"Do you enjoy being the beautiful Carrel widow, challenging the men you meet to win your favors?" Jed inquired with biting softness. "Or are you afraid that some man will show you how very inadequate Jeremy was?" His gaze slid to her mouth as if to evoke the memory of his kiss.

Elizabeth pivoted sharply away from the table, walking to the counter to set her cup down. "Jeremy was very adequate and I have a daughter to prove it. Your questions are becoming much too personal and bordering on insolence."

"The ability to procreate is not indicative of a man's prowess to arouse a woman's desires," he laughed arrogantly. "Was his respect and gentleness as satisfying as you thought it would be?"

"Yes!" she flashed angrily.

"Honestly?" Jed prodded softly, and she realized he had come quietly up behind her.

"Yes, honestly," Elizabeth declared firmly. A bitter anger rose in her throat. "You haven't changed, Jed. I thought you were insulting and arrogant the first time I met you, and the years in between haven't altered that. You tried to turn me against Jeremy then and you're still doing it now when he isn't here to defend himself. I think that's disgusting and contemptible!"

"Seeing you again has brought back the memory of our first and only meeting, too," he answered with serious thoughtfulness. "You were an extraordinarily bewitching young creature, tantalizingly innocent and desirable. My mind tells me that you're mature and no longer innocent, but my eyes insist that you're still inexperienced. As a woman," his voice became husky and caressing, "you are even more desirable than you were as a girl."

"Stop it!" She wanted to close her ears to his voice, but it was impossible.

"Looking back, part of the reason I left was you. That night I couldn't stop myself from kissing you, even though I knew I'd frightened you. I frighten you now, too." His hands closed over the soft flesh of her upper arms. "You're trembling."

She closed her eyes to stop the quivering response at his touch. "From disgust," she murmured wildly, needing to explain the reason for her disturbance.

"At least give me credit for leaving." There was a smile in his voice. "Had I stayed I probably wouldn't have been able to resist the temptation to make love to you, even if you were my brother's wife. Now—" Jed slid his hands down her arms, letting his fingers close around her slender wrists. Crossing her arms in front of her, he drew her shoulders back against his chest, "Now I can hold you like this, bury my face in your silken black hair." Elizabeth gasped in shock as he proceeded to let his action follow his words. "And—"

"Let me go!" She tried to twist away from the sensuous nuzzling near her ear.

There was silent laughter in the warm breath that caressed her cheek and throat. Elizabeth discovered that Jed found her struggles amusing, aware that his superior strength would counter any attempt to be free.

"Elizabeth!" The startled and censorious voice came from the hallway door.

Flames of red burned her cheeks as Jed slowly released her, his tawny eyes laughing at her embarrassment as Elizabeth turned to face her mother-in-law. Jed did not turn immediately, keeping his back to his mother.

"Rebecca—" Elizabeth began, fighting to regain her composure and rid herself of the absurd sensation that she had done something to feel guilty about.

But she wasn't allowed the opportunity of identifying Jed as Rebecca Carrel broke in with haughty indignation, "What were you thinking, carrying on like that, Elizabeth? What if Amy had come running here and seen you in the arms of this stranger? Who is this—"

"Hello, Mother." Jed turned and spoke before she finished her slashing barrage of questions.

Rebecca's mouth snapped shut grimly, a finely drawn, charcoal eyebrow arching in something considerably less than overwhelming joy at her son's return.

"Your brother and your father have been in their graves for quite a while, Jed. Why have you bothered to come back now?" she asked shortly.

The firm line of his mouth thinned into a cold smile. "I must have been drawn by your overwhelming motherly love," he responded cynically. With negligent ease, he walked over and mockingly kissed her cheek.

"How long do you intend to stay? Or are you just passing through?" His mother's expression was still rigidly controlled.

"I haven't made any plans," Jed shrugged, squarely meeting her dark gaze.

"I can believe that," Rebecca agreed with cutting reproval. "Your father and I did everything we could to prepare you for a decent role in life and you threw all of it aside, even the opportunity for a college education. You refused to plan, always insisting that you knew it all and refusing to listen to us. What has it gained you, Jed? You’ve hopped all over the Pacific and what do you have to show for it?"

The only indication Elizabeth saw which revealed Jed's determined control of his temper was the slight clenching of his jaw. Otherwise he withstood his mother's tirade without any show of emotion.

"I haven't come back to argue whether what happened in the past was right or wrong, Mother," he replied calmly. "I guess I wanted to come back when I'd made my fortune." He smiled in self-reproach. "When I received your letter about a year after it was written and realized that Dad was gone, I knew I had too much of the same Carrel pride, that I'd condemned, I've come home to make peace with you, Mother."

Again there was the long, measured look between them. Elizabeth unconsciously held her breath, believing the sincerity in Jed's voice yet uncertain whether his mother did.

"You can have the room at the end of the stairs as long as you're here," Rebecca said at last. "Amy, Jeremy's daughter, has your old room."

"Yes, Liza already offered me the use of the other room shortly after I arrived. I—" he glanced down at his fresh clothes—"I needed to clean up after walking from town."

"You walked from town!" his mother exclaimed in distressed anger. "Did anyone see you? For heaven's sake, why didn't you take a taxi? What will people think if they saw you walking along the highway?"

"If anyone had seen me, they would probably have thought that I was on my way home," Jed reasoned dryly.

"I wish you would be more conscious of our position in the community," his mother sighed rather bitterly.

At that moment, Amy appeared in the kitchen doorway having changed into an everyday outfit of shorts and top. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the stranger in their midst. Elizabeth realized it was probably the first time her daughter had seen a man in the house during the daytime since before her grandfather had passed away.

As she made her way to Elizabeth, Amy kept her curious brown eyes centered on Jed. There was no shyness in her silent appraisal, nor did she flinch from his returning look.

"Hello, Amy." Jed's greeting was casual, not forcing any undue warmth or gladness into his voice.

Amy tilted her dark head back to look at Elizabeth. "Who is he?" she demanded in a bold, clear voice that bordered on rudeness.

"Your manners, Amy," Rebecca reprimanded sharply.

Except for a stubborn tightening of her mouth, Amy pretended not to have heard her grandmother's reproval. Elizabeth had the fleeting thought that her daughter's slightly rebellious nature might have come from her uncle.
 

"This is your uncle Jed, Amy. He was your father's brother," Elizabeth explained patiently.

Curiosity still remained the uppermost emotion as she turned her attention back to Jed. "Hello," she greeted him naturally. "Did you know my father?"

"Yes, we grew up together," Jed answered, calmly returning her intent scrutiny of him.

"Did you know me when I was a baby?"

"No, I was on the other side of the world when you were born."

His response did not impress Amy. "I didn't know my father. He died before I was born, you know," she informed him with marked indifference.

"I knew that," he nodded.

"Did you like my father?"

"Oh, Amy, what a question to ask!" There was a brittle quality to the laughter Elizabeth forced through her throat, as she tossed a pleading look to Jed. "He was your uncle's brother. Of course he liked him."

"That's not exactly true," he ignored her silent request to keep Jeremy's memory untarnished.

"Jed!" Elizabeth appealed to him angrily.

"He was my brother," Jed continued with a faint smile grooving the side of his mouth. "Because he was my brother, I loved him. But I didn't necessarily like him. Brothers tend to fight and argue a lot, Amy. Your father and I didn't agree on a lot of things."

"What did you fight about?" Amy tilted her head interestedly to the side.

"That's enough questions, Amy," Rebecca broke in coldly. "Your uncle is probably very tired after his long journey and you're supposed to be practising the piano. Mrs. Banks told me you didn't do very well today, so from now on you'll practise an extra fifteen minutes at the piano every day."

"Oh, Mother, no!" Amy made her angry protest to Elizabeth, frowning her appeal for the edict to be rescinded.

"You'd better do as your grandmother suggests," Elizabeth answered quietly. "If you do better at your next lesson, we'll consider eliminating the extra fifteen minutes."

"Mrs. Banks is stupid," Amy grumbled.

"I was going to swim in the pool after a while," Jed inserted quietly, too quietly Elizabeth thought. "Perhaps you can join me when you're finished with your practice, Amy."

The frown was replaced by an immediate smile as Amy opened her mouth to heartily accept his invitation.

"I believe you've forgotten, Jed," his mother spoke sharply, "but in this house, there are no rewards or bribes for doing what you are supposed to do."

With that parting shot, Rebecca Carrel pivoted mound and left the kitchen. Seconds of heavy silence ticked by as Jed stared after her, yellow fire smoldering in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Amy," he said simply, turning back to the crestfallen child. "Maybe another day."

"Yes, maybe," she sighed as if she didn't hold out much hope for that nebulous day to come. Her feet were dragging noticeably as she left the room.

"Nothing's changed," Jed muttered bitterly beneath his breath.

Elizabeth knew the comment was not directed to her, but at his mother's insistence on strict discipline. Several times she herself had protested in Amy's behalf, but Rebecca's argument that it was for the good of the child always seemed a valid one. Besides, Amy's spirit had never faded under the unbending rules of the house. In fact, Elizabeth was convinced it was the only way to keep her assertive personality under control. On her own she wouldn't have been as unwavering as Rebecca.