by Ann Cristy
"How like you to act the village idiot, Lucas," Alice commented. "Well, if you don't wear tails, you shall be the only one who does not." She rolled her eyes at Misty, who smiled back weakly. "How can you think of shaming your new wife that way?"
Betsy giggled. "Misty's not ashamed of Luc. Are you, Misty?"
"No, of course not."
"Well of course she's not ashamed now, but think how she'll feel when you arrive at the club without any clothes on."
"I could put a jewel in my navel," Luc offered.
"Fig leaf would be better," John said, then coughed behind his hand.
"Come, girls, this is getting us nowhere. We have to get you some clothes. We'll go to Saks. We'll get your shoes at Lord and Taylor. I like their shoes." Alice's voice floated behind her as she urged the girls to kiss Misty good-bye and herded them into the foyer.
"John," Luc said in a warning tone.
John held up his hand, palm out. "Don't start with me, Luc. She's your sister. Besides, I wouldn't interfere if I could. Alice is having a marvelous time. She's sunny in the morning, and she greets me at the door in the evening with a smile."
"What? No rose in her teeth and martini in her hand?" Luc teased, reaching out to pull Misty to his side.
"Ummm? Not a bad idea. I'll suggest it while I'm following the group through Saks. I relish the thought that all the bills will be going directly to you."
"Pirate," Luc accused mildly as he and Misty followed John to the front door. "Don't forget that they'll need recreational clothes, not just ball gowns."
"I'm sure Alice has a list." John laughed and closed the door after himself.
Misty turned at once to confront Luc. "Wait until we're back in the living room, darling," he said. "You can ring for more coffee before you berate me." He chuckled and chucked her under the chin.
"Luc, it isn't funny! You can't let Alice run up big bills for my sisters. They have enough clothes." Misty bit her lip.
"Would you mind buying wardrobes for them if you had the money to do it?" He sat down on the couch and pulled her into his lap, cuddling her close.
"Stop. Mrs. Wheaton will come in any minute." She pushed against him, laughing. "And, no, of course I wouldn't mind buying clothes for my sisters." She paused as he chuckled. "You tricked me," she accused, pulling gently on his hair.
"Maybe a little. The point is, darling, we're well able to pay for any number of wardrobes Alice thinks necessary. If you like, I'll arrange for your accountant to pay the bills instead of mine."
"I have an accountant?" Misty asked, her voice faint.
"Of course. A very good man from the same firm the family has always used. You won't mind that, will you?"
"Huh? No, I guess not. Oh, here comes Mrs. Wheaton." Misty's voice failed as the older woman entered carrying a silver coffeepot, which she put on the serving cart. She smiled at Misty and Luc.
Misty wriggled on Luc's lap, feeling embarrassed, but he held her still with a minimum of effort. "Darling," he whispered in her ear as the housekeeper replenished the cream and sugar, "you're arousing me."
"Eeek!" Misty squeaked. "Stop that!" she hissed, giving Mrs. Wheaton a weak smile when the older woman looked up in query. "Ah, nice weather we're having," Misty said.
Mrs. Wheaton looked momentarily puzzled. "There's a travelers' warning out, and the snow has turned to sleet, but I guess you like cold weather, don't you, Mrs. Harrison?" Mrs. Wheaton lifted the empty silver pot and left the room.
"Yes, you do like cold weather, don't you, Mrs. Harrison?" Luc teased, burying his nose in her neck. "In fact, the next time we go to Sweetgum, I'm going to make love to you in the snow."
"You'll be arrested," Misty said, trying not to laugh. "You're much too sure of yourself."
"I'm sure of the way I feel about you." He settled her more comfortably on his lap. "Now, I talked to Mother this morning, and she's inviting us over on Saturday to introduce the new Mrs. Harrison to some friends. I told her I thought we could make it, but that I had to check with you first."
Misty stiffened. "How many friends?"
"Just a few. She doesn't like to seat more than thirty in her dining room, even though she has room for sixty."
"Thirty? Sixty? Oh, my goodness," Misty groaned.
"If being the guest of honor bothers you, I'll tell Mother we can't come."
"We can't do that to your mother." Misty raised her head from his chest. "Doesn't your family ever do anything on a small scale?"
"I guess not," Luc said thoughtfully.
She tightened her arms around his neck. "Luc, it rather frightened me that my sisters made no move to kiss my parents, or express a wish to go with them. It makes me think I've been blind all these years not to have seen that they were going through the same thing I did." "I don't think they suffered as much as you did. Truly, honey, I mean that. The three of them are close in age, so they could support one another, while you, being consi
derably older, had to face it on your own. I watched your sisters while your parents were here. I saw the same pity in their faces that I saw on yours, but not the same anxiety."
"Oh, Luc." Misty sobbed into his neck.
He held her for long minutes, comforting her. Then he stood and pulled her up to face him. "Now we're going to change and go to see a designer I know."
'One that you used with your mistresses, you mean," Misty teased. She punched his arm, feeling buoyant with happiness because she was with Luc.
"Mrs. Harrison! I'm shocked," he exclaimed with mock indignation. "Insinuating such a thing about your husband." He cupped his hands on her bent elbows, and hoisted her up his body until they were mouth to mouth. "Shame on you," he whispered against her lips. "My feelings are hurt. Kiss me and make it better."
"You fool." Misty's laughter faded as his mouth claimed hers. They kissed deeply, their mouths moving on each other as though they were seeking the secret of life.
Luc pulled away first, breathing hard. "Lord, wife, we'd better go now, or we'll be up the stairs and in bed before you know it." He let her slide down his body.
"So? Who's arguing?" Misty stretched up and licked the corner of his mouth.
His face flushed, his eyes narrowing on her. He placed his palms on either side of her face. "Siren," he whispered.
"Yes."
"When we come home, we're going to have a nice, leisurely soak in a hot tub, then—"
"Let's do it now," Misty urged.
"No. You're just trying to turn me away from my objective."
"But, Luc, Morey designs all my clothes. I like his work."
Luc regarded her for long minutes. "All right. But let's just see if Charine has anything that would suit you. Then we'll drive to Morey's place and take a look."
Misty nodded. "But please don't buy me too much. I'd like to give some of what I have to the poor." She paused, watching him. "I... I can use the money I earn at the Terrace—ah, I know you give to many charities..."
"Darling, I'll write out a check to any organization you name." He shook his head. "Just when I think I have you figured out, you show another unexpected facet of yourself."
They freshened up, changed their clothes, and went down to the garage after Mrs. Wheaton informed them that Melton had arrived.
"I asked the chauffeur for the Rolls to come over today," Luc explained. "I thought it would be easier if we didn't have to fight traffic." He held open the door for her, nodding a greeting to Melton. "Comfortable?" Luc asked Misty.
"Luc..." Misty had pressed a switch that opened up a small bar with a desk and a telephone. "A person could practically live in here!"
"Great place for a seduction." He grinned when she glared at him. "No, I have never seduced a woman in the back seat of the Rolls. Would you like to be the first?"
"Yes." She laughed when his mouth dropped open. It delighted her to catch him off guard for once. He was always taking her by surprise.
"Next time I'll drive the Rolls, we'll park it someplace, and
we'll see what we can do," Luc promised.
"Not in the middle of Manhattan!"
"And why not?" he teased.
They were still bantering when the sleek vehicle pulled up in front of a posh shop on Madison Avenue.
"It looks very expensive," Misty said as they got out. She watched over her shoulder as the Rolls merged into traffic.
"Just take a look at a few things," Luc urged. "We won't buy much. We can get most of your things at Morey's. In fact, how about suggesting to Alice that he make your sisters' debutante dresses? Alice would be bound to tell her friends about Morey." Luc shrugged as they approached a glass door bearing the name Charine in gold scrollwork. "Come on, darling."
The salon was lavishly decorated in cream and turquoise colors. Misty was a little nervous. She didn't feel comfortable in places like this, where the salespeople were often patronizing. Although she had learned to handle that sort of behavior at the Terrace Hotel, she preferred to avoid such places.
A tall woman with black hair in a French twist and wearing a beige silk dress came toward them, smiling. "Mr. Harrison, how nice to see you. I'm afraid Charine isn't here today, but may I help with something?"
"Hello, Lois." Luc smiled. He spoke quietly to the woman, and she nodded agreeably and walked toward the back of the shop.
Misty felt as if she'd just received a hard blow. Unreasoning anger and jealousy swept over her because her husband had just smiled at the woman. She sucked her breath in sharply, trying to control her irrational emotions.
"Darling? What is it?" Luc bent over her.
"I'm going to sock her if she smiles at you again. How did you know her name? How many women have you brought here?" The questions tumbled from Misty's mouth. She pressed her lips together in an effort to stop them. Luc grinned, and her temper flared. "And don't you dare laugh, Lucas Harrison," she fumed, which made him laugh out loud. Just then Lois and another woman arrived carrying several dresses over their arms.
Still chuckling, Luc turned to face them. "Would it be possible for someone to model them for my wife?"
Lois looked momentarily overcome by surprise. "Your wife? Well, congratulations, Mr. Harrison. I didn't see an announcement in the paper."
"No doubt it will appear this week sometime."
Lois nodded. "Won't you both follow me?" She led them into an inner room with several Louis Quinze chairs arranged in a semicircle in front of a tiny stage one step up from the floor. In minutes the curtains parted, and a model glided forward wearing a low-cut flame-colored dress.
Luc frowned. "That's not your color."
Misty was about to agree when the model turned, and the color took on more cherry tones. "It might suit me," she mused.
"I don't want anything to detract from the color of your hair," Luc said, reaching up to wrap a strand around his finger.
Dresses, suits, and coats followed in quick succession, but Misty's thoughts kept returning to the first dress she'd seen. When the women finished showing her the garments, she asked to try on the red dress.
It fit perfectly. Misty stared at herself in the three-way mirror in the dressing room. "You were right, Mrs. Harrison," said Lois. "That dress suits you wonderfully. It emphasizes your glorious hair."
Misty looked down at the dress. "I'd like to show it to my husband, please."
The medium-heeled black pumps she was wearing didn't look quite right with the knee-length silk chiffon that wafted about her like scarlet flames. The many-tiered skirt was cut on the bias with a ruffle that went from breast to hem, delineating her every curve.
Luc was lounging in a chair talking to a salesclerk next to him. When he saw Misty he rose at once. "Darling, you were right. That dress is sensational on you. We'll take it, Lois. And I want all the accessories." He leaned down to kiss Misty, his smile wide, his eyes hot. "Are you sure there's nothing else you'd like to try on while you're here?"
"No, thank you, Luc. This dress is all I could possibly want."
He nodded and kissed her. Misty watched as he signed the bill, chatting with Lois, who stood at his shoulder laughing. Misty's temper rose.
When they stepped out into the crisp January day, she took hold of her husband's arm. "I don't know what you ever were to that woman, but I do know she has designs on you."
Luc looked down at her in amazement. "She didn't have a chance before I met you. She has a lot less chance now."
Misty let out a sigh of relief. She was beaming up at him as Melton pulled up to the curb in the Rolls. But Luc didn't seem to notice that their driver had arrived. He was taking her into his arms, his eyes alight with passion.
"Luc!" Misty stared up at him, perplexed by his determined expression. "Melton is here."
"What? Oh, yes. Let's go." He ushered her into the car and climbed in after her, keeping her close to his side as he reached into his breast pocket and brought out a jeweler's case with the name Carrier's inside the lid.
"A diamond pendant!" Misty exclaimed. "Oh, Luc, it's too much." "I think this necklace will go very nicely with that new dress. I bought it when I had your engagement stone reset." His lazy grin widened as she gasped in astonishment.
"A necklace and earrings and two rings," she whispered, studying the diamond pendant.
"The emerald in your engagement ring isn't new. It belonged to my Grandmother Stuyvesant. I purchased the other items right after Christmas when I decided that you were going to be very special to me. Do you think the pendant will go nicely with your new dress?"
"I think it would look exquisite with a washcloth," she muttered.
"Mystique, what a great idea! Tonight after dinner I want you to wear your diamond and a washcloth."
Misty laughed and snuggled closer to him. When he gasped she looked up at him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I've just discovered what my favorite thing is." Luc kissed her hard, forestalling further any questions. "It's your wonderful laugh, my sweet."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Married life was exciting! At least Misty found it so. She was contemplating the thought as she bent over the keyboard in the Edwardian Room of the Terrace Hotel. She smiled to herself as she thought of Luc and how he would be coming soon to pick her up. He'd take her home ... and make love to her. Imagining it sent a tremor of excitement through her, and she hit two keys at once with her middle finger. Don't think of Luc while you're playing, she chided herself, forcing herself to concentrate on the music.
But in moments her thoughts had slipped back to Luc. He held her continually in thrall. He had merged her life completely with his. They had been married for only six weeks, yet Misty could scarcely remember what life had been like without him. She performed only two nights a week now, Tuesdays and Thursdays, and instead of playing until two or three in the morning, she finished at twelve, when Luc arrived to drive her home. Her breath rasped in her throat at the thought of going home with him.
"Hey, Mystique," Willis whispered, "you just played 'My Man' three times in a row."
Misty looked up at Willis, biting her lip. "I have to concentrate better."
"Not that it wasn't nice." Willis winked at her.
She shook her head and gave a half-laugh, half-groan. "No more daydreaming, I promise."
She switched to the Ravel Bolero, welcoming the intricate fingering since it forced her to concentrate on every nuance.
When she looked up sometime later in response to a burst of applause, the first person she saw was her husband. Her face broke into a brilliant smile. She had given up any pretense of acting aloof with him. Although she hadn't said the words "I love you" out loud, she was more committed to Lucas Stuyvesant Harrison than she had ever been to anyone.
She moved her hands on the keyboard in a complicated introduction to one of her favorite love songs, "Something Was Missing," from the musical Annie. On impulse she did something that she rarely did; she tilted up the piano mike and sang the lovely words of the melody. Not once as she sang did she take her eyes off Luc.
> When she finished several people came up to the piano and made requests. She played the songs they asked to hear, but she didn't sing.
At midnight Luc left his seat and walked up to her. He took her arm and lifted her from the piano bench, keeping his arm around her waist as they walked along the hall to the small dressing room. "Uh-uh, not tonight, angel," he said when she paused. "I had your clothes put in the penthouse suite. You can change there."
"Luc, I thought we went all through that. I don't mind that the—"
"Dressing room is so small. Yes, I know. But I thought we'd stay here tonight and go home in the morning, so I had your clothes moved to our suite."
"Why? I mean, it's just as easy..." Her voice trailed off as she saw the harsh look on his face. "Luc?"
"We've been married for six weeks today. I thought you might want to celebrate," he said stiffly as they stepped into the elevator.
"Oh, I do." Misty slipped her arms around his waist under his jacket. "I didn't think you would remember." She glanced up at him. "I thought men always ignored those things."
"I'm not likely to forget my own marriage." She noted a slight edge to his voice.
The elevator doors opened. Misty kept her arm around him as they walked into their suite. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," she said.
Luc loosened her arm from around him and headed toward the bathroom, his back rigid. Misty stood looking at the closed door, then walked over to the windows and stared out at the Manhattan skyline. The bathroom door opened a few minutes later, but she stayed where she was. She sensed Luc's presence close behind her.
"I'm sorry. I was hurt," he murmured. "I didn't think I could ever feel that way—like a child."
She turned slowly and looked up at him. "I know. We still don't know each other well enough not to be sensitive about what we say."
"Smile at me, darling," Luc said huskily.
"You always say that to me." Warmth suffused her face.
Inch by inch he pulled her toward him until they were lightly touching all along their two lengths. "I thought by now you knew that your smile was one of my favorite things."
