"Where's he gone?" the older woman asked curtly.
"Bobby was thrown from a horse," Elissa said quickly, looking up. "He's got a broken leg and a concussion. King's gone to the hospital."
Margaret whistled. "I knew it would happen one day." She shook her head. "Bobby isn't a rider, for all he keeps trying. Will he be all right?"
"Bess didn't say, apparently," she faltered.
The older woman sat down, staring at Elissa. "That young madam has too much time on her hands and not enough husband," she said bluntly. "I've known both them boys for a long time-watched them fuss and fight and grow into men. Bobby's too eaten up trying to compete with his half brother to be the man he could be. All business, even when he comes to dinner over here. Bess sits there watching him so sadly, and he doesn't see her at all. I understand why he's doing it, mind you, but Bess isn't the kind of woman a man should treat that way. God knows she had a hard enough life, what with her family."
Margaret was good for half an hour on that subject. By the time she got through the alcoholic father and eternally pregnant mother and the abject poverty Bess had grown up in, Elissa felt sorrier for the blonde than she'd ever dreamed she could. But King had gone running when Bess needed him, and that fact stood out above all the rest. Was he simply sorry for Bess and protective of her, or was it something more?
"You don't mind that he went to see about Bobby?" Margaret asked suddenly.
"Oh, heavens, no!" Elissa said. "I would have gone, too, if he'd asked me." She shrugged, biting back tears. "I guess he was thinking that Bess would need some support."
Margaret's eyes narrowed. "Bess loves Bobby," she said quietly. "Sometimes she may flirt with other men, but that's all it ever is. And Kingston asked you to marry him, didn't he?"
"Yes, but that was because we-" Elissa looked up wildly and bit her lip. Her face grew suddenly hot as Margaret pursed her lips and lifted an eyebrow.
"Because he knows I'm in love with him," she amended quickly. "He feels guilty."
"Good. I raised him to have a conscience," she said curtly. "That's right, I was with his mama since he was just a boy. What morals he's got, I put there, no thanks to her. I took over where his dad left off. Poor old fellow, he couldn't take her everlasting roving eye. He was a good man."
Elissa studied her silently. "Is his father still alive?"
Margaret smiled gently. "Very much alive. He's in a nursing home in Phoenix-a good one. We correspond, and I tell him all the news about once a month."
"Oh, shouldn't you tell King?" she asked worriedly.
"Honey, Kingston would go crazy. He thinks his father deserted him, and he's never wanted anything to do with him. I wouldn't dare confess what I've been doing."
"But his father will die one day," Elissa argued.
"It's not my place to say anything," Margaret replied. She searched Elissa's pained eyes. "You could, though. He might listen to you."
Elissa laughed weakly. "I wonder." She stared at the emerald ring on her finger. It felt cold, an empty gesture to appease his guilt, to satisfy his sense of responsibility. Her eyes closed. Last night it had all seemed worth it. In the cold light of reality, with her mind back in control of her body, it seemed wrong. How could she have done it?
It had been a last desperate gamble, she thought miserably. To make him so enslaved that he'd get over Bess. But it hadn't worked. Bess was still number one in his thoughts. It seemed that she always would be.
"If you want him, fight for him," Margaret said gruffly. "You've got an advantage she doesn't. He likes you. All he really feels for her is pity and some leftover affection. She was like a child when she and Bobby got married. Kingston helped her over those first few quarrels."
Elissa studied her slender fingers. "Liking isn't enough."
"Neither is pity," Margaret said, and got up. "Now, you eat a good breakfast. We've got to build up your strength. If Bobby stays in the hospital for any length of time, we'll probably have ourselves a houseguest"
With a sinking feeling, Elissa watched Margaret's broad back disappear. She hadn't considered that King might bring Bess here. But on second thought, of course he would. And what a perfect opportunity for Bess to get through his defenses. And what in the world was Elissa going to do to prevent it?
Sure enough, a few hours later, King came in with a weeping, pale Bess in tow. Bess was still in jod-phurs, gloriously sexy in the expensive silk blouse she wore opened to the deep cleavage between her breasts. Her honey-blond hair in a delicious tangle around her shoulders, and she was clinging to King as if he were a lifeline.
"I'll take her upstairs," King said, glancing at Elissa. "Call Margaret to help her undress, would you? Have you got a nightgown she can borrow?"
"Yes, of course," Elissa said dully, following them. "How's Bobby?"
"He'll be all right," he said, his arm protective around his sister-in-law. "His leg's broken, and he's got a hell of a headache, but he'll be out in a few days."
"Thank God," Elissa sighed. But nobody seconded that, least of all the two people in front of her.
She had only two nightgowns with her, but she spared the blue one for the opposition. Margaret gave it a sinister look as she carried it into the second guest bedroom to the tearful blonde.
Elissa slowly wandered back downstairs. Margaret was getting Bess some soup, and King, forgoing all the pressing business he'd been attending to without a thought to Elissa's lack of company, was proving he had all the time in the world for Bess. And why not? Elissa thought miserably. He loved Bess.
King ate his supper on a tray in Bess's room, to Margaret's blatant fury, leaving Elissa to eat alone or with the housekeeper.
"Idiot!" Margaret flared as she put a bowl of stew in front of Elissa. "Blind man!"
"Don't start feeling sorry for me," Elissa murmured. "I went into this with my eyes open. Nobody dragged me here. On the other hand," she added quietly, staring at the empty symbol on her ring finger, "I think I might see about a flight back to Miami. I'm only going to be in the way here."
"You can't go," Margaret huffed. "If you do, they'll be here alone, and I won't have that kind of gossip." She glared at Elissa. "Your parents wouldn't appreciate your doing that kind of thing, either. No, ma'am, you're stuck. I'm sorry, but there isn't a thing you can do and still live with your conscience."
Ah, Elissa thought, but you don't know what I'm already living with. You haven't a clue. But she didn't say it. Conventions or no conventions, she was getting out of there. If she didn't, seeing King and Bess together was going to kill her. She was brave but not suicidal. Her heart was already breaking.
King still hadn't come out of Bess's bedroom when Elissa went upstairs. Gritting her teeth, she looked in the door, which Margaret had apparently left open.
King was sitting beside the bed, holding hands with a radiant Bess, and they were talking about Bobby. Elissa felt sick all the way to her toes just looking, and then she heard what they were saying.
"I feel so guilty," Bess was saying. "But I couldn't help it, Kingston. You know how he treats me. I'm so alone. He's never going to change; we both know that."
"The horse was a stallion. I've warned him not to try to ride it," he told her.
"But it was because I told him I wanted a divorce," Bess burst out, and Elissa felt her blood run cold. "Oh, Kingston, I can't go on living with a man who doesn't love me anymore. It's so much worse now, and when I'm with you-"
Elissa knocked abruptly on the door; she couldn't bear to hear any more, and it would look as if she were eavesdropping if she waited any longer. They both jerked around, looking stunned by her unexpected appearance.
"How are you feeling?" she asked Bess, schooling her voice and face to show nothing but polite interest and friendliness.
Bess moved restlessly and pulled her hand from King's. "Oh, I-I'm feeling much better, thank you," she stammered. Her face colored. "I'd forgotten you were staying here."
"Under the circumstances, that'
s quite understandable," Elissa said gently, forcing a smile. "I'm sorry about Bobby, but I'm sure he'll be fine."
"They'll let him go home in a few days, they said." Bess sighed, then grimaced. "Back to his papers and business calls. He was already raving because they wouldn't let him have a telephone."
Elissa hesitated, unable to look at King. "Well, take care. I'll say good-night."
She went out, feeling her heart breaking inside, and stiffened when she heard King murmur something to Bess and follow her. She stood in front of her door, waiting for him, her back carefully straight
"I'm glad she's going to be all right," she said, smiling, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. It was just as she'd predicted when she'd said back in Florida that she wouldn't marry him. She'd said that Bess might be free one day, and now it was going to happen. Elissa had represented an urge he couldn't control, but now she was an embarrassment, an obstacle. She stared down at the ring on her finger and knew how he felt and what he was thinking. If only he'd waited a few hours....
"She wasn't hurt," he said curtly. "Just upset. But I had to go to her."
Her, not his brother. She noticed the wording even if he didn't. "Of course."
He hesitated, which was unusual. "Elissa..."
She turned, forcing a smile. "Yes?"
"About last night..." he began slowly.
"Oh, yes. Last night" She pulled off the emerald ring and, taking one of his hands, pressed it into the palm. She stared at his closed fingers, feeling their strength and warmth and remembering all too well how they felt on her bare skin. She closed her eyes and wanted to die of the shame. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"
He took a sharp breath. What did she mean, what he wanted? For God's sake, they'd made love. She'd told him she loved him. They were going to be married. So he'd brought Bess home-what else could he do? Surely, after what they'd shared the night before, Elissa didn't think he was still struggling with a hopeless passion for his sister-in-law?
"What I wanted?" he shot at her angrily. "Did I ask for the damned ring back?"
"Don't tell me the thought hasn't crossed your mind," she returned, staring at him accusingly. "I heard what Bess said, King," she confessed. "About divorcing Bobby. And maybe it's for the best. If they can't get along, and the two of you are... Well, I'm sure it will all work out," she added, lowering her eyes to his broad chest. The first few buttons were open, and involuntarily she wondered if Bess enjoyed touching him there as much as she did.
She turned away. She was about to burst into tears, and that would never do.
He stared at her as if she'd lost her senses. She'd agreed to marry him, and now she was backing out. Of course, he'd thought he wanted Bess, and now Bess was talking divorce. The obstacles to their union would be removed. And yes, he'd once thought he wanted that. But not now. Not anymore. He wanted Elissa, desperately, and here she was, throwing his ring back in his face. He felt suddenly, unreasonably angry.
"And what about you?" he demanded, hands on his hips.
Her chin lifted as she opened the door to her room. "What about me?" she asked curtly.
"You could be pregnant," he said bluntly. He sounded as if he wanted to throw things, starting with her.
"If I am, it's my problem, not yours."
"To hell with that!" he burst out. "It's my problem, as well, and don't you forget it."
His sense of responsibility, she thought miserably. "All right," she said quietly. "But there probably won't be a problem. I'd like to leave tomorrow."
He had to take deep breaths. His eyes flashed at her. "So that's it, is it? A quick one-night stand and you're off? You agreed to marry me, remember."
"That was before," she threw back. "I don't want to marry you anymore. I don't want to become like Bess, tied to a man who doesn't love her, who barely notices she exists! No, sir, not me. That isn't what I want to do with my life. What kind of marriage would it be if every time Bess calls, you go running?"
"Bobby was injured," he reminded her. "I had to go."
"To her," she agreed, lifting her head. "You didn't even ask if I wanted to come. Bess needed you, so you went."
"Of course I went," he ground out with failing patience. His dark eyes flashed at her. "Bess falls apart in a crisis. And if my little brother can't take care of her, I feel responsible for her," he added, recognizing without quite realizing it that he was articulating what had been his own feelings all along. "Anyway, damn it, you aren't making sense."
"On the contrary, I'm finally making perfect sense. I've finally opened my eyes," she snapped. "I can see what's ahead, and I want no part of it. Bess is frail and helpless and needs protecting, is that right? And I'm tough and insensitive and I don't need anybody?"
"That's how it seems to me, lady," he bit off, totally confused now and losing his temper. "You handle yourself just fine without help. You always have. You're too damned independent."
It wounded, but she smiled so that he wouldn't see. "It beats begging people to notice you," she said with a poisonous smile.
"When did you ever have to?" he demanded.
"The minute Bess got within thirty miles of you," she shot back. "And if you're bothered that I might die of love for you, you can forget that, too. I'm un-infatuated! Why don't you go and let Bess cry on you some more? I've got packing to do."
Elissa's blind stubbornness was making him see red. "What will you tell your parents?" he asked coldly.
She took a deep breath. "That I got homesick. What else?" She closed the door behind her and, as an afterthought, locked it. When she heard him stomp off down the hall, she blushed at her own conceit. As if he'd try to come to her, with Bess so handy. She crawled onto her bed, still dressed, and cried until there were no tears left.
By morning, she'd salvaged a bit of her pride. She dressed in one of her own flamboyant creations, a stunning white pant suit with a red silk blouse. She wore heels, as well-red, to match the blouse-and carried a stylish white purse. Her long hair was pulled back into a bun, her makeup carefully applied. She looked sleek and sophisticated, a woman of the world. The fantasy was finally real, but now that she had it, she no longer wanted it. She wore rose-tinted sunglasses to camouflage the ravages of tears.
But she was a trouper. She'd learned from her parents that it always got darkest just before the dawn, so she glittered like sunlight as she joined Bess and King at the breakfast table.
"Well, good morning, glories," she bubbled, glancing from King's dark, shocked face to Bess's pale one. "Isn't it gorgeous traveling weather? Margaret, I'll just have toast and coffee, thanks. I don't manage airplanes very well on a full stomach."
Margaret sighed. "You're still going, then?" she asked, revealing that she knew what was going on.
"Of course," Elissa said brightly. "I made reservations a half hour ago. I've got two hours to get to the airport, and I've ordered a taxi to take me there. Fortunately Jack's Corner is large enough to have one."
"I'll drive you to the airport," King said curtly.
"You will not," Elissa told him. She even smiled. "Don't be silly. You'll have to go to the hospital and see your brother."
"I'm getting a divorce," Bess said quickly to Elissa.
"Yes, I heard," Elissa said, as if it didn't bother her in the least. "It's probably the best thing for both of you, too. I'm sure you'll find someone much more attentive than your husband. He did seem rather too busy for you."
"He works very hard," Bess said defensively, and King glanced at her curiously.
Elissa only smiled. She thanked Margaret, who had deposited a cup of black coffee and two honey-brown pieces of buttered toast at her elbow.
"Do you have a headache?" King asked Elissa.
"Yes," she replied, touching the sunglasses. "But nothing bad enough to prevent me from leaving, if that's what's bothering you."
"For God's sake!" He hit the table with his fist, and Bess jumped. "I haven't asked you to leave!"
"Like hell you haven't!" Eli
ssa gave as good as she got, glaring across the table at him. "I'm not blind! I'm nothing more than an embarrassment to you now. You can't wait to get rid of me!"
"I asked you to many me!" he said shortly.
Bess's eyes widened, and her mouth flew open.
"Marry you? I'd sooner have-have Blake Dona-van!"
"Then go get him, honey. He's available!"
She got up, shaking all over, wanting nothing more than to pick up a chair and hit him over the head with it. Black-eyed devil, sitting there as arrogant as an Indian chief, bursting with bad temper. Well, hers was just as bad, and he wasn't bulldozing over her ever again.
"Thanks, I might just do that," she said, her voice shaking. She turned and stormed back upstairs to finish packing. She'd left the coffee and toast untouched, unable to bear seeing King and Bess together again.
Margaret came up to get her when the taxi arrived. "I wish you wouldn't go," she grumbled.
"I can't fight her," Elissa said simply. "He cares about her in a way he'll never care about me. It isn't something he can help."
"But, honey, what about you?" Margaret asked gently, her eyes so caring that Elissa burst into tears and was gathered up like a child to be comforted. "There, there," Margaret cooed. "He'll come to his senses one day. Men get a little blind sometimes, and Bess has always been special to all of us. He's a little sidetracked right now, but once he's had time to miss you a little, he'll be along-you mark my words."
"Think so? I don't." Elissa wiped her eyes and nose on a handkerchief and crumpled it back into her purse before she readjusted her dark glasses. "There. Do I look terrible?"
"Not at all. Keep your chin up," Margaret advised. "Don't let them see you break down, even if you have to bite your tongue through. Poor Bobby, helpless in the hospital..."
"Poor Bobby may see the light if he can't get to his business for once," Elissa muttered. "What a pity he didn't look sooner; he might have saved himself some heartache."
"I suppose so. Well, you have a safe trip."
"I will. Thank you for being so good to me."
Books By Diana Palmer Page 40
