The Widow and the Wastrel

by Janet Dailey

  "Still striving for status, I see."

  "I don't like the name Liza. It sounds—"

  "Common was the adjective I believe you used before," he reminded her. "It was shortly after you became engaged to my brother and you were trying to appear the poised and sophisticated young lady to impress my mother. You became very angry when I called you that in front of them."

  "I remember." A tautness crept into her expression as she averted her eyes from the watchfulness of his.

  "Where's Mother?"

  "At a luncheon in town," Elizabeth replied.

  "Of course, it's Thursday, isn't it? I had forgotten that she holds court every Thursday." A hard smile moved over his mouth, somewhat cynical and derisive.

  "If you would like to clean up, the room at the end of the stairs is empty. You can put your things there. There are fresh towels in the bathroom."

  His expression didn't change. "Is that a subtle hint that you find my appearance less than presentable?" Jed Carrel queried mockingly. "It was a hot, dusty walk out here."

  "Do you mean you walked from town?" She frowned at him in surprise.

  He glanced down at his dust-covered shoes and slacks. "My feet were the only transportation available. The local taxi was no doubt ferrying Mother's lady friends to their weekly luncheon with the Queen."

  "You could have waited," Elizabeth murmured automatically.

  "I was anxious to see if Thomas Wolfe was right, that you can't go home again. So far I would say hers right. My old room at the head of the stairs is in use?"

  "It's Amy's now." She bristled faintly at his implication. They had met only once. They were virtually strangers, so why should he expect her to welcome him back with open arms?

  "Amy?" Jed questioned with a dark brow arched in inquiry.

  "My daughter." Her chin lifted fractionally to a defiant angle.

  Again there was the cynical movement of his mouth that was supposed to resemble a smile. "Oh, yes," he nodded. "I remember Jerry left you with a child. Amy, that was my grandmother's name."

  "That was her namesake," Elizabeth admitted.

  "Mother must have liked that. Or was it her suggestion?"

  His mocking jibe struck home, but Elizabeth wouldn't acknowledge it. "Several names were discussed before Amy was born." She turned away abruptly. "Have you eaten? Would you like me to fix you a light lunch?"

  "Breakfast, please," he requested instead. "I haven't adjusted to the time zones yet. For me, it's tomorrow morning. Omelette and toast will be fine."

  He was picking up his duffle bag and striding with catlike smoothness for the stairway door. Elizabeth stared after the lean, masculine figure. After almost nine years she couldn't be blamed for not expecting to see her husband's brother again, or for practically forgetting his existence. In the last few years, his name had only been mentioned once that she could recall, and that had been when Rebecca, his mother, had wanted to notify him of his father's death. Just once.

  They had only received three cards from him that Elizabeth could remember, short little notes that had been postmarked in different foreign ports ranging from the Pacific Islands to South-east Asia. His name had almost been forbidden from the very first.

  Naturally when Elizabeth had first met Jeremy, she had been aware that he had a brother, younger by little more than a year. Jed was a wild one, the gossips had said, expelled from schools and colleges, ignoring every edict and principle of social behavior that his family stood for.

  Her only interest had been in Jeremy. The escapades of his brother were of little importance. If she had thought of him at all, it had only been a concern that she should approve of her as a future member of the family. She had always known in the back of her mind that if Jeremy's family didn't approve of her, there would be no marriage regardless of how much he had professed to love her.

  Unconscious of her actions, Elizabeth turned to the kitchen, caught up in the memories of the past, a trip backward that had already begun before Jed's sudden arrival. Now her thoughts focused on her single meeting with him.

  It had occurred only a day or two after Jeremy had proposed. She had met his parents once, briefly at a dance he had taken her to at the country club. After his proposal, she had been invited to dinner. Elizabeth had been afraid it was very significant that Jeremy had not yet given her an engagement ring.

  When they had arrived here at his house, she had been a bundle of nerves, terrified that she would do or say the wrong thing. Jeremy had offered little support, growing more silent with each step they had taken toward the door. His parents and Jed had been in the living room awaiting their arrival. The hostile atmosphere had almost smothered Elizabeth. She had been certain the silent animosity was directed at her. It was quite a while before she realized their censure was directed at Jed.

  Initially he had been silent, not the silence of disapproval, but of cynical amusement. Although he had never uttered a word to confirm it, Elizabeth had the distinct, feeling that his parents' approval or disapproval of the girl he wanted to marry would not have affected his decision and he found it amusing that Jeremy sought it so earnestly. At the time, Elizabeth had been angered that he couldn't understand the necessity for it.

  Except for an initial greeting and an odd comment at the dinner table, Jed had not addressed any conversation directly to her. Not that she had cared. In fact, she had been glad that he hadn't singled her out for attention in case his parents' anger rubbed off on to her. There had been an inner sensation that he knew she had silently taken the side against him and knew why.

  After coffee had been taken in the living room, a tiny voice had suggested that this was the time to make a discreet withdrawal and give Jeremy an opportunity to speak to his parents in private. The smile of approval that had flashed across Jeremy's face when she asked to be excused to freshen up had told her that the suggestion was a wise one.

  She had fussed with her hair and make-up and lingered as long as she dared before venturing into the hallway, crossing her fingers that she wasn't returning too soon. Jed was in the hallway. Something in his manner had prevented Elizabeth from walking past him.

  "So you're the angel of virtue that has captured my elusive brother," he had murmured softly, almost mockingly. "You look more like a dark-haired witch to me."

  Her nervousness had increased with her uncertainty how to reply, to his comment. It was one of those horrible moments when no suitable response came to mind.

  She had stoned weakly. "Jeremy will be wondering where I am. Excuse me."

  The light touch of his hand on her arm had stopped her. "Doesn't it bother you that they're in there deciding whether to allow you the dubious privilege of becoming a member of the Carrel family?" He had frowned.

  "I wouldn't marry Jeremy without his parents' permission," she had answered, her expression adding that to do otherwise would be insane.

  "How old are you?" Unusual hazel-gold eyes swept her oval face and slender figure, inspecting her with swift appraisal.

  "Seventeen. Quite old enough to know my own mind I'm sure," Elizabeth had asserted defiantly.

  "And you're in love with the idea of becoming Mrs. Jeremy Carrel," Jed had mocked.

  "More than anything else I want to be his wife. I love him."

  "Yet you wouldn't marry him if my parents disapproved," he scoffed.

  "Of course not," she had answered.

  "I don't believe you really love him or you'd fight tooth and nail to have him instead of passively waiting for someone else to give the verdict as to whether you'll marry him or not."

  "It's my life and my decision and none of your business!" His cutting jibe prompted a stinging retort.

  "Don't marry him, Elizabeth." There was a hard, warning note in his tone. "Don't get caught up in the so-called glamor of the Carrel name and make a mistake you'll regret."

  "Aren't you being premature?" she had asked haughtily. "It's possible that your parents will disapprove of me."

  "Oh, the
y will approve." A corner of his mouth curled cynically upward. "My moralistic father sees you as pure and untouched and has investigated your background sufficiently to be certain there's not a breath of scandal attached to your name. Mother is glorying in the almost worshipful attention you've been paying her. She's already deciding that she can mold you into the type of daughter-in-law she wants, as subservient to her wishes as Jeremy is."

  "That's not a very nice way to talk about your parents." The elation she had felt at his initial statement that they would give her permission for the marriage was taken away by his sarcastic analysis of their reason.

  "The truth is often unkind, Liza."

  "My name is Elizabeth." Her dislike of him had increased when he shortened her name. "I don't like nicknames. They're so common."

  "And Elizabeth is filled with all sorts of royal connotations, isn't it?" Jed mocked. "Forgive me if I don't bow."

  "Forgive me if I find it hard to believe that you and Jeremy are brothers," Elizabeth retorted acidly.

  "Don't apologize for that. That's been a puzzle almost since the day I was born. All I've heard is why can't you be more like your brother." Jed laughed with unconcealed bitterness. "I make too many waves, but I don't intend to change. I'm not like Jerry. I'm not content to walk in my father's shadow. I'll blaze my own trail in life."

  "So you condemn Jeremy because he is joining your father's firm," she replied coldly.

  "Not if that's what he wants."

  "Do you question that he knows?"

  "The same way that I question if you know," he replied.

  "I know exactly what I want. To marry Jeremy," Elizabeth stated without qualification.

  "Do you?"

  His fingers closed over her chin and tilted it up. Her green eyes rounded in surprise as she stared into the lean face bending closer to hers. The astonishment at his action was so complete that she had made not one word of protest nor attempted to draw away. Nor was she prepared for the hard, passionate possession of his kiss, the raging fire scorching through her veins. Inexperience had held her frightened by what was happening. When the bruising pressure had been lifted, Elizabeth had only been able to stare into the satisfied gleam of his gold-flecked eyes, reminiscent of a cat playing with its prey.

  "I doubt that Jeremy has ever kissed you like that, Liza," Jed had smiled mirthlessly. "His emotions are too severely checked to permit it."

  "I certainly hope not," Elizabeth had whispered breathlessly, a frightened pulse throbbing in her throat.

  She and Jeremy had kissed many times. Warm satisfying exchanges they were, too. But never had she been left with the sensation that she was about to be seduced.

  "Jerry r-respects me too much to treat me like that," she had added in a more forceful voice that was still quivering slightly.

  "Is that what you want from him? His respect and the Carrel name?" He was laughing at her youth, but she was powerless to stop it. "He will be making love to you, you know."

  "But with gentleness and consideration." A flush began creeping into her cheeks at his open discussion of such an intimate subject.

  "I hope some day, Liza, you'll be honest enough to tell me if that's what you really want." He had sounded almost sorry for her.

  "How dare you speak to me like this? How dare you treat me this way?" she had demanded, now angry that be thought she should be pitied.

  "You've got to wake up, little Liza. Jeremy isn't the man for you," Jed had pointed out smoothly, showing amusement at her display of temper.

  "What's going on here?" Jeremy was visibly bristling at the end of the hallway, his dark eyes looking accusingly at Jed and Elizabeth.

  With a guilty start, she had pulled away from the band that was curled along the side of her neck in an obvious caress. She had been frightened that Jeremy would misunderstand and think she had invited this accidental meeting with his brother.

  "I was just coming in—" she had begun to explain, but Jed broke in calmly.

  "Yes, she was," he agreed, "but I waylaid her before she could hurry back to the safety of your side. I wanted to be the first to kiss your official bride-to-be. I didn't want her to have any doubts that I would welcome her into the house with open arms."

  The suggestive emphasis Jed placed on the last brought a stormy thundercloud into Jeremy's expression. Elizabeth had sensed that Jed was deliberately goading him into anger.

  "You keep away from Elizabeth, Jed," Jeremy had growled.

  "Then congratulations are in order." Jed turned to Elizabeth, who was still too paralyzed to move and smiled. "The verdict is in and the sentence is about to be life. I wouldn't expect much mercy if I were you, Liza. The Carrel family isn't a forgiving lot—know from first-hand experience."

  "Elizabeth, come here," Jeremy ordered crisply.

  As she started to walk by Jed, she read the silent message in his hazel gold eyes, repeating again that she was making a mistake. Her reply was to practically run to Jeremy's side, letting his arm circle her shoulders and draw her to him. She smiled into his face, seeing that her quick obedience had dulled the edge to most of hit anger.

  Then Jeremy's dark eyes had turned to his brother, standing alone several feet away, the expression in Jed's eyes shielded by half-closed eyelids.

  "Mother suggested that for appearances’ sake you should be the best man," Jeremy had announced.

  "I suppose I'm supposed to be honored to be included in the festivities at all. Do you think by giving me a major role that it will put me on my best behavior?" Jed had mocked.

  "I've made my wishes known," Jeremy had stated stiffly. "I would like to have you as my best man. It's up to you to accept or refuse."

  Without answering, Jed had turned and walked away.

  Chapter Two

  A FLASH of total recall brought vividly back to life that long-forgotten incident. Elizabeth's fingertips were unconsciously pressed against her lips. In retrospect, Jed's kiss did not seem nearly so frightening or unpleasant. The discovery was very unsettling because it was so at odds with her opinion of him.

  Jed had not been best man at their wedding. In fact, a few days after her introduction to him, Jeremy told her that he had left for parts unknown. Although he had not added it, Elizabeth had sensed that Jeremy wished his brother Godspeed and a long journey. Secretly she had been surprised that his parents had endorsed the thought, but mostly she had felt relief that Jed would not be around.

  In appearance, he and Jeremy had not resembled each other except for the brown hair. Jeremy had been an inch or two taller than Jed's six feet. His frame had been broader and more muscular in appearance than Jed's lean build. In Elizabeth's judgment, Jeremy had been the handsomer of the two, with a fine strong face that was youthfully manly.

  At twenty-three there had been a chiseled hardness to Jed's features that the years had seemed to intensify, making him appear more cynical and ragged. Yet it had been his overpowering sense of maleness that had left Elizabeth feeling so naively insecure and inexperienced. She had known that she could become the kind of socially acceptable wife that Jeremy wanted, but the thought of Jed as her brother-in-law had filled her with trepidation. Then he had removed himself, taking with him her fear and uncertainly.

  Now Jed had returned. Why? It was a question without an answer, one that he had dodged successfully when she had asked him. If he had returned after Jeremy's death or his father's, Elizabeth would have understood. But there seemed little purpose for his return. She couldn't believe it was prompted by any sense of family loyalty or any driving desire to return to the home of his birth.

  If it had been that, he wouldn't have returned looking like a common tramp, dirty and disheveled. No, if he had hoped to get back in good graces with his mother as the only remaining male member of the family, he would have made his homecoming in a more auspicious manner. He would have spent his last cent to look the part of a Carrel and not come walking across fields carrying a knapsack on his back, unshaven and unkempt.


  "A penny for your thoughts—or is it more expensive to know what a Carrel is thinking?"

  Elizabeth blinked into a pair of gold-brown eyes, catlike like the rest of Jed Carrel, always insinuating a lazy feline arrogance. She didn't have to be told it was a pose, that he could respond with catlike swiftness.

  "They—" She took a deep breath to control the sudden acceleration of her pulse. "They aren't worth a penny."

  "My omelette?" Jed prodded mockingly when she continued to stare at him.

  "Right away."

  She turned quickly to the refrigerator, tearing her gaze from the transformation that had occurred in the space of a few minutes. The beard growth was gone, revealing a lean jaw and high cheekbones. The heady scent of some male aftershave lotion drifted around her nose. His tobacco brown hair gleamed a darker brown, courtesy of the shower spray; its natural waywardness even when combed properly giving him a more rakish appearance.

  But again she had been struck by his maleness, her awareness awakened by the crisp, white, short-sleeved shirt only partially buttoned. The tanned skin of his bare arms rippled with sinewy muscles and the dark curling hair on his chest heightened the teak shade of his tan. His leanness made his strength seem primitively masculine. An inner sense told her that even when he was in formal clothing the impression would be just as strong.

  It was difficult to work with her usual efficiency in the kitchen while his eyes watched her every move. Elizabeth forced herself to concentrate on what she was doing.

  She glanced to where he sat straddling a kitchen chair to ask, "Do you want your omelette plain or with cheese or ham?"

  "Plain is fine," led answered.

  He waited until she had served his omelette and toast before making further conversation. "Where's your daughter?" he asked.

  "In town with Rebecca. She has a piano lesson shortly after noon."

  "Does she play as well as her mother?"

  The question flustered Elizabeth. For an instant she found it difficult to assimilate that Jed was referring to her.

  "Amy is just a beginner." She reached for the coffee pot to pour herself a cup, uncaring of the hotness of the day's temperature. "She's only been taking lessons for a little over a year. But she's quite good."