When Next We Love (17 page)

Leigh didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. When she opened her mouth, it was the first that came out—a hollow laugh, dry and bitter, verging on hysteria. “You’re an idiot, Derek, an honest to God idiot! You told me a few days ago you’d never marry because of me, and now you’re contemplating marrying me! Because I was such a rotten wife to Richard! What a deal you’re making for yourself, Mallory. Are you seeking revenge on me, or on yourself?”

He walked to her slowly and cupped her chin in his hand. “Maybe both of us, love, maybe both of us.” Then he walked past her and she heard him move into her bedroom.

She followed him to find him pulling clothing from her closet.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded.

“Getting your things,” Derek said curtly. “You heard me earlier, we’re going back to Star Island.”

“You may be, I’m not.”

“Oh, you’re coming, Leigh,” he replied, finishing with the closet and moving on to her dresser. “You’re coming with me if I have to truss you up like a spitted deer and throw you in the car myself.”

Leigh’s mouth worked furiously as she searched for the right words to say. “You can’t do this! You can’t take me against my will! It’s against the law!”

“Really? We’ll see.” He dragged two suitcases across the room and tossed them onto the bed. “Shall you pack or shall I?” As Leigh continued to stare at him speechlessly, he shrugged and began to stuff her clothing into the suitcases.

“This is all very interesting,” she finally said coolly. “But tell me, Mr. Mallory, how do you plan to make me marry you? You can hardly spit a bride like a deer and walk down the aisle with her. And I will never marry you willingly. I will never go through another marriage like—”

“Your marriage with Richard?” Derek jeered.

“Yes, my marriage with Richard.”

“That’s right, love, you won’t. I’m not Richard. But cheer up. If you manage to divorce me, you’ll be twice as rich.”

Leigh choked back laughter and sat on the bed to watch him. He was dead serious! She blinked back tears. There was nothing in the world she could desire more than a lifetime commitment to him. In her secret dreams she had prayed that Derek would one day discover that he loved her with all his heart, needed her like air to breathe, cherished her as she did him.

And now he was planning to make her his wife. But he didn’t love, need, or cherish her. He simply wanted to make sure she had no other life. He would bring her to heel, dominate and overpower her. Then he would go about with his own life, traveling, staying out, seeing whomever else he so desired.
Just like Richard.

But she had fallen out of love with Richard and his behavior had become bearable. Richard, after their whirlwind courtship when she had given her heart, had quickly proved himself to be an unprincipled liar, weak despite the front he showed the world.

There was no weakness in Derek Mallory. In twenty years he had never thrown a professional temper tantrum, never been accused of anything but a judicious and fair mind, never been attributed characteristics other than generosity, toleration, and dignity.

She would never fall out of love with Derek. And the pain would be forever unbearable. No, she couldn’t marry him. Even as her pulses quickened at the thought and her heart pleaded that it was better to have a fraction of his time than nothing, her mind rebelled. He could force her to Star Island, but he could never make her say the words that would bind her to a life of never-ending misery and despair:

“Are you ready?”

Leigh snapped into the present. “Now?”

“Yes, now,” he barked impatiently. His eyes roamed over her half-prone position on the bed. “Unless that’s an invitation?”

She scrambled up. “I—I have to write Maria a note. That is,” she drawled tartly, “unless you’ve already told her we’re leaving again?”

“Write your note. I’ll be packing the car.”

Leigh stalked into the kitchen and began to write her note to Maria, explaining that she would probably be gone for several weeks. She was in such a turmoil that the pen ripped through the paper and she had to start over. After she had done so, adding Derek’s phone number in case the housekeeper should have difficulty finding it if necessary, she wrote out an advance check for the next month. Glancing at her wristwatch, she noticed that the procedure had taken her much longer than she had expected. She was surprised that Derek had not come after her to bully her into hurrying!

She moved into the living room but he wasn’t there. A quick glance out the front door showed her that the Audi was packed, but there was no sign of Derek. Puzzled, she walked tentatively down the hall to her bedroom. The door to the room she had shared with Richard stood ajar. She paused and looked in.

Derek was standing very still by Richard’s heavy oak desk. His eyes were clouded, seeing nothing, his face white beneath his tan. His strange appearance astounded Leigh so that she, too, stood still for several seconds, watching him. Then she called his name softly, but he didn’t hear her.

“Derek!” she called again, more loudly. He started, like a man coming out of a trance, and turned slowly to her. “I’m ready,” she said, softly again, unable to fathom the haunted air about him.

A tremor shot through him. He shook himself, as if to remove an unwanted and annoying insect. A faint smile curved his lips but did not reach his eyes. “Good. Did you get the music?”

“The music?” Leigh queried faintly.

“The music. Your rough drafts.”

“No, I’ll run up and get them now.” But she didn’t run. She watched him, completely puzzled and not at all sure he was all right. “What are you doing in here?” she finally asked.

“The phone …” he said vaguely. “I wanted to let James and Emma know that we were coming back.”

Leigh didn’t dispute him, yet his answer made no sense. There were phones all over the house. “I’ll go on up and get the music then …” she said, backing out of the room.

“You don’t come in here much, do you?” Derek asked suddenly.

“No, no I don’t.” Leigh’s eyes moved over the room, taking in the queen-size water bed that Richard had adored, the Florida pine paneling, the heavy Victorian dressers and desk. “No,” she said again. “I moved my things out the day I heard about Richard’s … accident. I haven’t been in here since. Maria comes in to clean.”

“Richard’s things are still all here?”

Leigh wasn’t sure if he were asking her a question or making a rhetorical statement. “I haven’t touched anything of Richard’s,” she said. “I always tell myself I have to get to it but I never do.”

Derek nodded as if her words had been the answer to a deep and mystifying puzzle. “Go on,” he said gently, “get the music. I’ll check the doors and be in the car.”

Amazed and incredulous at his abrupt change of behavior, Leigh backed the rest of the way out of the room. She sprinted up the stairway to the studio where she kept her work, organized the composition and her scribbled pages of notes, bound them, and hurried on out to the car. Derek waited at the steering wheel, his eyes dark and pensive, strangely distant. They focused on her sadly as she hopped into the passenger seat.

“Leigh, you’re right. I can’t make you come to Star Island if you don’t want to. I think your work should be published, but I have no right to force you to work on it. We can hire Samantha.”

He wasn’t taunting her in any way, Leigh saw. In the few minutes that she had spent wording her note, something had happened to change him drastically. But what? She wasn’t sure that she liked his new solicitude and uncanny remoteness.

“I—I don’t mind working with the group,” she said stiffly.

Some emotion raced swiftly through his golden eyes, an emotion Leigh couldn’t begin to understand. He turned the key in the ignition and stared straight ahead, his attention on the road.

They rode in silence for miles, neither thinking even to switch on the car radio to alleviate the stilted tension between them. Leigh finally remarked on the beauty of the endless water as they passed over the remarkable seven-mile bridge that spanned the lower islands. Derek responded with an absent yes, and Leigh gave up all attempts at conversation. She didn’t speak again until they cleared the Keys and were coming upon the mainland and it wasn’t by choice then. The rumblings in her stomach were becoming embarrassingly loud.

“Do you think we could stop to eat?” she asked hesitantly.

Once again Derek looked as if he had been snapped out of a trance.

“I’m sorry. We have gone hours without a meal. Will Durty Nelly’s be all right?” he replied.

“Lovely.”

Despite its disreputable name, Durty Nelly’s was a particularly fine crab house. Derek and Leigh both ordered the specialty, crabs, and draft beers. When the waitress had bustled on her way, Derek watched Leigh’s face, his soul-searching eyes oddly intent. Their beers arrived and he sipped his, lit two cigarettes and handed her one.

“I want you to know,” he said in a cloud of smoke, “that I’m very sorry. About everything.”

Leigh lowered her eyes nervously, unsure of how to relate to this new person. She inhaled, exhaled, and sipped her beer.

“I’m glad you’ve decided to work on the album,” he continued. “You are a talented lady, and your light shouldn’t be hidden under a bushel. But you won’t be harassed anymore by me. It’s reasonable that you stay at my house, but you’re free to come and go as you choose. I’ll introduce you to the dogs so that you won’t have any trouble with them.” He paused, sipped his beer again, and absently swiped at the long-gone mustache. He opened his mouth, closed it, and took another long swallow. “About last night …”

Leigh uttered a muffled protest and waved her hand. Her eyes were glued on her table mat; she couldn’t raise them to meet his. His hand caught hers in the air and covered it on the table.

“No, Leigh,” he said. “Listen to what I’ve got to say. I’m sorry about that too. Very sorry. I promise nothing like that will happen again either. I’d like to go into this as friends. Do you think we can?”

Leigh was speechless, her heart torn in two. That Derek was being unerringly kind, apologetic, and gentle was something that she should love. But what did it mean? Did he no longer want her? Had their evening together, the one that had brought her to a heavenly cloud despite everything, been nothing to him at all? Had he decided she was not worth pursuing? Not until this moment, not until his promise that he would leave her alone, did she realize that, whatever the bitterness, whatever the antagonism that raged between them, she wanted him desperately—on any terms. His vile temper was preferable to his total rejection.

“Leigh?” he prompted.

“Yes, yes we can be friends.” She did not trust herself to look up yet and spoke to the table. She moistened her lips. She didn’t dare ask him about his sudden change of heart yet; she would hope the opportunity came later when she was in better control. But maybe now he would answer a few of the questions that had plagued her since she first came to his house. “Will you tell me, though, why you invited me to Star Island? And did you have something to do with my car not starting?”

“I did nothing to your car,” he said, “and I invited you to Star Island for two reasons. The first is the music. I’ll only tell you the second reason if you’ll give me an honest answer to one of my questions.”

Pinpricks of fear were gathering at her neck. She knew he was going to ask her about Atlanta. She had to find a way to hedge him. Taking a sip of beer, she finally raised her eyes to his. “If you didn’t damage my car, how did it happen that I was there with Lavinia White?”

“Lavinia had scheduled an interview with me before I was even sure that you were coming. If you remember, I wasn’t responsible for your entering into the interview. I didn’t lock you out of your room.”

Leigh flushed slightly. “But you did call her with all the information about our supposed romance. You must have. The people we met at Pennekamp had already read all about it!”

Derek frowned, puzzled himself. “No, I didn’t call her. But then, again, if you remember, I wasn’t the one to make the first announcement about a marriage. You told John and Roger and the group—”

“But you know why I did that!” Leigh exclaimed.

“Do I?”

“Of course!” Leigh retorted, “I was calling your bluff!”

“Well”—he shrugged indifferently—“it doesn’t matter. But I would assume one of the group spoke with Lavinia. Roger, probably. He usually handles most of our public relations. Now,” his voice lowered and he stared into her eyes intently, “my turn. I want to know—”

“Here we are!” The waitress cheerfully swooped into the conversation by producing Leigh’s steaming plate with a flourish and then Derek’s. “Can I get you anything else for the moment?”

“No, no thank you,” Derek replied, controlling his impatience. “Oh, yes, two more beers please.”

“Certainly,” the rosy-cheeked waitress replied. She was a heavyset lady of about forty. As she responded to Derek, she began to study him more thoroughly. “English, sir, are you?” she asked politely.

“Yes,” Derek said shortly. It wasn’t like him to be rude and Leigh could see he was wincing at his own behavior. He glanced to the woman and smiled. “I’m originally from Northumbria.”

The waitress suddenly sucked in her breath and exclaimed, “La-di-da! I know who you are now. You looked so familiar! You’re the singing star! Oh, if my daughter could see me here! But, oh, honey!” She chuckled. “What the young don’t know! Her father and I spent many a night by a warm fireside with your music ourselves.”

Her voice was growing louder and Derek was beginning to regret his decision to be polite. “Please!” he shushed her. “I am Derek Mallory, but it’s not me you listen to, it’s the group, the London Company. And, if you don’t mind, I really don’t want to be recognized.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Of course.” The waitress lowered her voice. “But would you do me a favor? Could I have an autograph—for my daughter?”

Derek grinned more easily. “Get me a paper quietly,” he promised. “And I’ll sign all the autographs you want!”

“Thank you!” Flustered and happy, she hurried away.

Leigh plunged in quickly to keep him from getting to his question. “Now see,” she whispered teasingly. “You were recognized and it wasn’t my fault at all!”