Her Own Rules/Dangerous to Know

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  “Of course. Unless you want to make it earlier. Look, do join us now,” he pressed, and once more tried to draw her into the salon.

  Meredith said softly, “Please, Reed, don’t make a scene here. I just can’t have tea. I’ve some phone calls, and I must change for dinner.”

  He let go of her arm abruptly and stepped away from her. “Very well,” he said, sounding suddenly grudging. “Don’t get frightfully dressed up. I’m taking you slumming tonight.”

  Giving him a fraudulent smile, she murmured, “I’ll see you in a short while, Reed.” Not giving him a chance to say another word, Meredith spun around on her heel and walked rapidly to the elevator.

  Once she was inside her suite, she threw off her cape and unbuttoned the jacket of her cream pantsuit, then went through into the bedroom. Pulling open the wardrobe door, she looked at her clothes hanging there, settled on a black pantsuit for dinner, wishing deep down inside herself that she had never met Reed Jamison.

  CHAPTER SIX

  At precisely six-thirty there was a knock on the door of the suite, and Meredith knew it was Reed Jamison.

  Walking out of the bedroom into the sitting room, buttoning her jacket, she arranged a pleasant smile on her face before opening the door.

  “Not too early, I hope,” Reed said, kissing her on the cheek.

  “Exactly on time,” Meredith replied, and stood back in order to let him walk into the suite. “I’ll just get my bag and coat and we can be off.”

  “Oh but it’s far too early for the restaurant, darling. Why don’t we have a drink here first.” He put his overcoat on a chair and sauntered into the middle of the sitting room. After giving it a sweeping glance, he went to the fireplace, where he draped himself against the mantel, striking an elegant pose.

  “All right,” Meredith said, endeavoring to be gracious, although she couldn’t help wishing he had not come up to the suite. She had fully expected him to phone her from the lobby. Pressing the bell for the floor waiter and clearing her throat, she asked, “What would you like?”

  “Scotch and soda, please, my dear.”

  “Where are we going for dinner?” she asked, making small talk.

  “Ah-ha, that’s a surprise!” he exclaimed.

  “You said we were going slumming.”

  “I’m taking you to a wonderful Chinese restaurant, rather off the beaten track. But you’ll enjoy it. The place has tremendous local color, and the food is the best Chinese in London. Genuine, too, not the bastardized stuff served in fancy West End restaurants.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” she murmured and then moved out into the foyer of the suite as the waiter knocked and then let himself in. After ordering their drinks, she returned to the fireside and sat down.

  Looking at her intently, shifting his stance slightly and leaning forward, Reed said, “I’m really rather put out with you, darling.”

  “Oh?” Meredith stared at him questioningly. “Because I didn’t want to come down to tea and meet your friends?”

  “No, no, of course not. That didn’t matter. But I am somewhat surprised that you went to lunch with Patsy when I had invited you to come over to the house.”

  Meredith was taken aback. “But, Reed, Patsy and I had a lot of business to discuss. I told you last week, when I was still in New York, that I had many things to attend to on this trip, and—”

  “Oh really!” he cut in with a sardonic laugh. “You could have dealt with Patsy on the phone, surely.”

  “No, I couldn’t!” she shot back, her voice rising in exasperation. She was irritated with him; she realized, yet again, that he did not really take her work seriously. Suppressing a rush of impatience, she went on more calmly. “We had business to discuss, and I was anxious to see her.”

  “But not anxious to see me.”

  “Reed, don’t be—”

  There was a loud knock and the waiter entered with the tray of drinks. Meredith got up, thanked him, and handed him some of the coins she kept in the ashtray for tips. After giving Reed his drink, she picked up her own, and sat on the sofa.

  “Cheers,” Reed said, and took a swallow of his scotch and soda.

  “Cheers.” Meredith merely touched the glass to her lips, then put it on the coffee table. She had no desire to drink tonight.

  Once again Reed looked at her; this time he was smiling.

  She was relieved the awkward moment had passed. It struck her that he seemed less morose tonight, and certainly he was in a better mood than he had been earlier, when she had run into him in the lobby.

  “Have you told Patsy you’re planning to move to London within the next few months?” he asked.

  Meredith gaped at him. “What makes you say that, Reed? I’m not moving anywhere.”

  “When I was in New York in November you certainly indicated that you intended to live in London.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Oh Meredith, how can you say such a thing! I practically proposed to you, and I told you it was hard for me to go on like this any longer, that we couldn’t continue our affair if we were separated by the Atlantic Ocean. I made it quite clear I wanted you here with me. Very much so. And you certainly acquiesced.”

  “Reed, that’s not true, I didn’t!”

  “You did!”

  “You imagined it, Reed. Never in a million years would I lead you to believe such a thing.”

  He stared at her incredulously, sudden anger flaring in his dark eyes. “I distinctly remember telling you that I needed you here with me in London. And you agreed to come.”

  Meredith had no recollection of this at all and was about to say so when he came and sat down next to her on the sofa.

  “What’s wrong with you, darling? Why are you behaving like this?” he asked, moving closer, draping his arm along the back of the sofa. “Don’t be difficult, my dear, you know how I feel about you. I need you, Meredith, and I need you here. Not in New York, but living with me in London. I told you this when I was in the States, and I assumed you would get rid of the business and move as soon as you could. Settle here permanently with me.”

  “Reed, you’ve truly misunderstood. I don’t know how that happened . . . but it did, somehow. And I’ve no intention of giving up my business.”

  “Then don’t, darling. If you want to work, you can, although it’s really not necessary. I can support us extremely well, you know that. Forget the gallery that’s not important, merely my hobby. Just remember that I do have a very large private income from my trust. Monty might be inheriting the old man’s title when he dies, after all he is the eldest son, but I’ve got Mummy’s money.”

  Meredith sat gazing at him mutely. She was at a complete loss for words and filled with acute dismay.

  Suddenly, unexpectedly, Reed pulled her into his arms. He was a tall man, well built and strong, and he caught hold of her hard, held her in a viselike grip, pressing his mouth on hers.

  She struggled, managed to partially push him away, and pulled herself up on the sofa, straining to extricate herself from his arms.

  Unexpectedly, Reed let go of her as abruptly as he had grabbed her. Giving her an odd look, he said in a quiet, icy voice, “Why did you pull away from me in such a violent manner as if I’m suddenly a leper? What’s wrong?”

  Meredith bit her lip, said nothing. Then she sprang to her feet, hurried over to the window, and stood looking out.

  A cold silence filled the room.

  Meredith was shaking inside. She wanted to get this over. Be done with him. End the whole thing as gracefully as she could. But he was being difficult, and worse, imagining things that hadn’t happened.

  After a moment or two, when she was calmer, she turned to face him and said slowly, in her kindest voice, “Reed, listen to me . . . things are . . . well, not right between us anymore. They haven’t been for weeks.”

  “How on earth can you say that! We had a wonderful time in New York. Only a month ago, unless I’m sadly mistaken.”

&nb
sp; Meredith shook her head, her dismay intensifying. She wanted to be considerate, to let him down lightly, yet she knew within herself that she must make her feelings absolutely clear to him. “It wasn’t wonderful, Reed, at least not for me. I realized you and I were completely incompatible, and not suited to each other at all. I began to feel ill at ease with you, and I certainly knew our relationship was on the skids, that it couldn’t possibly work.”

  “That’s not so, and you know it. If you lived here and we weren’t conducting our relationship long distance, everything would be entirely different. Please move to London to be with me, Meredith.”

  “Reed, I’ve just told you, as far as I’m concerned we don’t have a future together. And anyway, I have such a huge commitment to my business.”

  “Oh don’t go on so, Meredith. I can’t believe for one moment that you’re such a dyed-in-the-wool career woman as you claim to be. I couldn’t love that kind of woman, and I do love you.”

  Meredith was silent.

  He repeated, “I love you.”

  “Oh Reed, I’m so sorry . . . but I just don’t feel the same way.”

  “That’s not what you led me to believe,” he said softly, his eyes narrowing.

  “I admit I was infatuated with you last fall, that’s true. But it was an infatuation, nothing stronger or more lasting. I can’t make a commitment to you, I just can’t.”

  “It’s been so good between us, Meredith. Why are you saying these things?”

  Taking a deep breath, Meredith plunged in. “I very quickly came to understand that you don’t take my life seriously. Not my personal family life with my children, and certainly not my work. I will not negate my children’s existence for you, or anyone else for that matter, and I will never give up my work. It’s far too important to me. I’ve put too many years and too much effort into my business.”

  “You’re not living up to my expectations of you, Meredith,” he said, his voice suddenly grown cold and disparaging. “Not at all. I thought you were different. I thought you were an old-fashioned woman with old-fashioned values. What a miscalculation on my part. I can’t believe my judgment was so flawed. Or perhaps you simply deceived me.” He raised a dark brow.

  Slowly, and in a cold tone, Meredith answered, “You know, you’ve just put a finger on something of vital importance, Reed. I feel the weight of your expectations, and I just can’t handle that. I began to realize in November that you believe you come first in my life. I’m afraid you don’t. The reason I wanted to see you tonight was to explain this, to tell you about my feelings and to bring our relationship to an end.”

  Reed Jamison was speechless. In all of his forty-one years he had never been discarded by a woman. He had always been the one to end affairs or start them, controlling, manipulating, pulling the puppet’s strings and getting his own way.

  He continued to stare at Meredith. She was the only woman who had ever bested him, and a terrible rage began to fulminate in him. He leapt to his feet, glaring at her. “I’m glad I found out what kind of woman you really are! Before I made the terrible mistake of marrying you!” he shouted.

  Without another word Reed strode across the room, picked up his coat, and left, banging the door behind him with such ferocity the chandelier rattled and swayed on its chain.

  Meredith ran to the door and locked it; she leaned against it for a few seconds. She was shaking. Calming herself, she walked over to the desk, sat down, and dialed Patsy’s number. It rang and rang. She was just about to hang up, when she heard Patsy saying, “Hello?”

  “Patsy, it’s me. Reed was here, and I told him it was over between us. He’s gone . . . he marched out in a fury.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. That you told him, I mean. And naturally he left in a high dudgeon. He’s not used to getting dumped unceremoniously. That’s part of his problem, you know. He’s always been spoilt by women, and he thinks he’s God’s gift to everything that walks in skirts.”

  “Yes, I know what you mean. He’s also a male chauvinist pig, to use a very outdated phrase. However, it is appropriate. That’s something I guess I detected when he was last in New York. He doesn’t take my business seriously, or my life. He’s self-involved, and he just can’t imagine why I’m not rushing over here to set up house with him. He said he wanted me to marry him.”

  “He proposed! Good God! Well, I must say, you must’ve really gotten to him, Meredith my girl. Ever since his divorce from Tina Longdon, he’s been a hit-and-run man.”

  “I’m not sure what that means.”

  “You know, the kind of chap who has an attitude . . . love me on my terms, darling. Thanks for everything. Farewell. Hit-and-run chaps, that’s what we call them over here. I know several women who have suffered at Reed’s hands.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I did, Meredith, at least I tried to warn you as best I could. I did say he was a difficult man.”

  “Actually, you said he was a brooding Byronic hero, or words to that effect, and I never did really understand what you meant by that.”

  “Oh that’s only the role he’s adopted for years. In essence, it’s a pose. But I suppose it has been rather effective, got him a long way with women. Not that he needs a pose, actually His looks aside, he’s charming most of the time, despite that smoldering manner of his.”

  “All too true. But do you think women fall for that . . . for that brooding stance?”

  “Oh yes, I think so. Let’s face it, many do. The smoldering eyes, the soulful expression, the moody demeanor, can be appealing. There are a lot of women who go for the suffering, anguished Heathcliffs of this world. They want to change them, make them happy.” Patsy paused, then said, “Wasn’t that one of the things about him that attracted you?”

  “No,” Meredith answered quickly. “To tell you the truth, it was only this past November, in New York, that he turned morose and moody. It irritated me more than anything else.”

  Patsy laughed. “I bet it did! Anyway, the main thing is you don’t sound any the worse for giving him the boot.”

  Meredith also laughed. “I’m not. Naturally, I’m not thrilled about hurting someone’s feelings. But it had to be done; Reed had to be told. I needed that closure.”

  “I realize you did.”

  “I thought it only fair that Reed knew exactly how I felt. And immediately. It was much better to clear the air, cut it off before it dragged on any longer. These kinds of situations can end in such bitterness.”

  “Don’t I know it!” Patsy exclaimed. “Tony’s been bitter about our divorce for years. Blames me, of course. Listen, do you want to come over for supper? Or we could go out if you like, if you don’t want to be alone . . .” Patsy’s voice trailed off.

  “That’s sweet of you, but I want to stay in tonight. I’ll order room service and pack. You did say you were picking me up at six tomorrow morning, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. Sorry about that, but we do have to leave early. We’ll be about four hours on the road, three and a half if the traffic’s light. We’ll spend a couple of hours in Keswick and then head down to Ripon. We’ve a great deal to do in one day. In fact, we might have to spend the night in Ripon.”

  “No problem. And Patsy?”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t think I hurt his feelings too much, do you?”

  “You may have. Don’t underestimate the effect you had on him.”

  “I’ve probably damaged his ego, that’s all.”

  “Oh definitely, Meredith, I’m certain of that. But I also believe that our Reed, the glamorous playboy, fell rather heavily for you. That’s always been my opinion. Oh well, what can one do . . . so he finally met his Waterloo.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Meredith found it hard to fall asleep.

  For a long time she tossed and turned until finally, in exasperation, she got out of bed. After putting on a warm woolen dressing gown, she went and sat on the sofa in the sitting room. Her mind was racing.
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br />   She had not drawn the heavy velvet draperies earlier, and moonlight was filtering in through the muslin curtains that hung against the window-panes. Everything had a silvery sheen from this natural light, and the room was peaceful.

  Meredith leaned back against the silk cushions of the sofa, thinking of Reed. How unpleasant their parting had been, and how foolish she had been to get involved with him in the first place. She was forty-four years old; she ought to have known better.

  How unlucky she was with men. Always.

  No, that was not quite true.

  There had been one man. Once. A man who had been exactly right for her. He was dead. He had died too young. Such an untimely death . . . that’s what they had all said. And how truthfully they had spoken.

  To die at the age of thirty-six was some terrible trick of God’s, wasn’t it?

  Meredith had asked herself this question a thousand times. She had striven hard to find some special meaning in that awful, untimely death. She had found nothing. There was no meaning in it. None at all.

  And all she had been left with was a void.

  Of course there had been Cat, just a toddler, and Amelia, poor Amelia, and they had shared that void with her, and the grief. How they had mourned him . . . endlessly . . . she and Amelia. His women. The women who had loved him.

  I’ll always mourn him, Meredith thought, the old familiar sadness rising in her, filling her throat. Oh Jack, why did you die? How many times had she asked herself that in the silence of her mind. There was no answer. There had never been an answer. Not ever in twenty-two years.

  And how many times had she asked herself when she would meet another man like Jack. She never would, she knew that now, because men who were like him were among the very few. And they were already spoken for. Jack had been spoken for early on in his life, when he was only twenty-two. And he had married that youthful love of his. Amelia. Then one terrible day she had been thrown by her horse. When she was only twenty-five and pregnant. And she had lost the baby and been crippled for life, a paraplegic trapped in a wheelchair. But he loved her; he would always love and cherish Amelia and she would always be his wife; he had told Meredith that and she had understood. And she had loved Amelia and Amelia had loved her and Jack; and Cat, she had loved her, too. Amelia had given them her blessing in her own silent, smiling way, full of approval, and gratitude for their love and kindness and loyalty.