The Amorous Heiress

by Carrie Alexander

  “I did the same thing with Jed. Only he ended up seducing me, I think.”

  “Sounds familiar,” April cooed, still smiling. After a moment, she gave herself a shake and returned to the subject at hand, fluttering her lashes suggestively. “So how was he?”

  Gussy’s mouth opened and closed. There were no words. She waved her hands in the air, her expression beatific.

  April beamed. “Do you love him? No, don’t bother answering that I can see you do.”

  Gussy levered herself up to her elbows. “You can?”

  “A blind woman could.”

  “Grandmother and Great-grandfather can’t.”

  April dismissed them with a shrug. “There’s a difference. Those two are willfully blind. And they’ll stay that way until you push their noses in the truth.” She paused to consider. “Are you going to push their noses in it? You realize, of course, that Grandmother has told Mom and Dad that you’re going to marry Andrews.”

  Gussy groaned and fell flat again. She pounded her fists against the mattress. “I have to tell them, but I don’t know how.”

  “You could elope and save yourself the trauma.”

  “I don’t want to elope. I want to stand up before everyone and say ‘I love Jed Kelley and you can’t stop me.’” Gussy stared at the ruffled canopy, trying to picture herself turning into a gutsy, take-charge woman. Visualization was supposed to work wonders. “I want Jed to be sure of me, and proud of me. I want to be proud of both of us, together, without apology.”

  April took Gussy’s hands and pulled her upright. “Then your birthday dinner is the perfect time to do it. I’ll be there to back you up, darling Gus. And so will Tony.”

  Gussy sagged. All she could visualize was herself, meekly backing down. “But you know what a mouse I can be…”

  “Not anymore,” April said, her hands clutching Gussy’s. She gave them a shake. “Not anymore.”

  GUSSY WENT OUTSIDE with the centerpiece, the last touch to the elaborate table arrangement. The evening was balmy and the ocean gently rolling, the orb of the setting sun shooting rays that gilded the tops of its midnight blue swells. Pots of scented geraniums ringed the seaside terrace, showy with blossoms.

  This is it, she told herself for the hundredth time that day. This was the new Gussy’s defining moment—if the old Gussy dared.

  It was a rare occasion, having all members of the family on hand. And for her birthday, at that. Well, she’d wanted to be the star of the show, the director of her life…and this was it.

  Unfortunately, she was having second thoughts.

  What if Great-grandfather refused to accept Jed? What if he rescinded control of Gussy’s trust fund? What if her parents joined her grandmother in united disapproval?

  She couldn’t bring herself to care about the money, especially now that she’d found a way to earn her own living, but she did yearn for her parents’ acceptance and praise. She’d always wanted it; it was the very reason she’d been so good and obedient all her life. April had gained their approval with her vivacious personality and flamboyant ways, but Gussy had believed herself too dull and quiet to attract such notice. She had to be perfectly behaved instead, never causing a worry or an upset. Even though Philip and Nathalie had always shown her love, the fact was that they were also usually halfway around the world. Last year’s birthday card had come from Tibet, three weeks late but with an interesting stamp to add to her collection.

  “Congratulations, Gussy.”

  “Jed?” She spun around, searching the terrace. He came up the steps from the direction of the rose garden, ruggedly handsome in his denim work shirt and worn jeans. Her attempt at a small chuckle of good humor caught in her throat. “Congratulations on reaching the ripe old age of twenty-five?”

  “You didn’t hear?” He came closer, eyes crinkling and teeth flashing in a wide smile. “You’ve won, Gussy. I just had word from one of the committee members. They chose Beatrice Hyde Garden Designs.”

  She gasped. “Nobody told me.”

  “Maybe they called Mrs. Hyde.”

  Gussy took a careful step, the sole of one of her sandals scraping on the stones. “Is this a joke? I can’t quite believe it.”

  Jed touched the side of her face, his fingers threading through the loose brown hair caught neatly by her satin headband. His thumb flicked one of her teardrop-pearl earrings affectionately. “Believe it, sweetheart. I’d wager that you’re the only one involved who’s surprised you got the job.”

  When he kissed her cheek, her knees turned gelatinous. “What do you mean?” Her fingers clung to his denim pockets. “I have to sit.”

  He brought her to one of the teak patio chairs and eased her onto it, squatting beside her, his jeans stretched tight around his muscular thighs and his hand placed in her lap, his fingers twining gently with hers. Here was the biggest—the only—professional triumph of her life and all she could focus on was the puckered white seams of his jeans and the calluses on his fingertips and how his dark hair looked now that it had grown some, lying sleek and flat along his skull, shining like the pelt of a wildcat.

  “What I meant was that your garden design was clearly the best. You even managed to get through to Jellicoe, no mean feat. Congratulations, Gussy. I’m proud of you.”

  Smiling, she closed her eyes to absorb the news. Pinwheels flared on her inner eyelids; starbursts showered inside her head. “I did it,” she whispered. It’s happening, she thought. This really is it.

  “Yes, you did it. You were great. I’d say sheer genius, but I don’t want to lose all my clients once word gets out about you.”

  Her eyes sparkled when she laughed. She’d never known such extravagant praise. “I just don’t believe we got the job. And here I thought Jellicoe and Mrs. Hyde seemed so antagonistic toward each other.”

  “That was odd, I admit.” He grinned and squeezed her hand. “I’m wondering if there’s more there than meets the eye. Perhaps Jellicoe’s prejudice against women springs from a specific incident with a specific lady gardener.”

  Gussy’s brows knitted. “But I won the job fair and square?”

  “No doubt about it.”

  “And you don’t mind losing out yourself?”

  He squeezed her hand again. “I’ll survive the disappointment.”

  Marian Throckmorton bustled out of the house, dressed in tailored checkerboard Chanel and carrying several glass votive candleholders. “I thought we should have candlelight for your—” She stopped, thunderstruck. “Augustina?”

  “Grandmother, I’ve had wonderful news!” Gussy stood, keeping hold of Jed’s hand even when he would’ve pulled away. “I want to wait for everyone to get here before I…but wait a minute. Were there any calls for me?”

  Marian hadn’t moved an iota. “Thwaite answered a call. I told him I didn’t want your birthday dinner disrupted with such goings-on.” Her gaze searched Gussy’s and Jed’s expressions, then dropped again to their joined hands. “Augustina?”

  “But you had no right to do that,” Gussy blurted. “That was the call I was waiting for!”

  “Augustina!”

  Gussy froze, realizing what she’d done. Her hand quivered in Jed’s.

  April came outside, her fists thrust deep in the slash pockets of an emerald green silk robe. “Did one of you take my soap?” Her blond hair was knotted messily at the top of her head and her feet were bare. “I wouldn’t normally mind, but it was a fresh thirty-six-dollar bar of scented Helena Von Duberstein. Tony says I can’t buy it in Guatemala, so I’d really like it back if someone borrowed it.” Having just noticed Jed, she propped her hands in a steeple beneath her chin and smiled bewitchingly. “Pretty please?”

  He grinned. “I’m always losing track of my soap, too.”

  Gussy stirred at last. “Oh, April—this is Jed Kelley.” She brought her hand up, remembering too late that it was knotted with Jed’s. Her grandmother’s eyes were starting to bulge, locked in amazement on the telling connecti
on. “Jed, April Farentino, my sister,” Gussy finished weakly. “I believe Jed suspects me of stealing his soap.”

  The slow hissing sound that was Grandmother’s escaping breath told Gussy that she’d said the wrong thing.

  “It’s a strange and mysterious occurrence, this disappearing soap,” Jed said, offering April an easy smile.

  “Positively baffling,” she agreed sunnily.

  Gussy remembered something from her dog’s puppyhood, not all that long ago. “Percy.” She scanned the terrace. “Percy?”

  A flutter of movement came from beneath the table. Everyone but Marian, who was still wooden with shock, bent to look. Percy wagged his tail tentatively, looking up at them with round, liquid-velvet eyes. A froth of scented soap bubbles drooled from his jowls, puddling on the pink granite stones.

  “Oh, Percy!” Gussy got down on her hands and knees and pulled the dog out by his collar, his toenails scraping against rock and his hind end dragging. “No, Percy, bad dog.” He sat and grinned and shook his head, sending soapy flecks flying in all directions. Gussy looked at April and Jed apologetically. “I forgot. It’s not the taste of skin he likes so much as it’s soap. We all learned to keep our soap out of reach. Percy’s nuts about soap.”

  “In that case, I hope he enjoyed the taste of lily of the valley.” April giggled. “Thirty-six bucks’ worth!”

  Jed laughed. “All he got at my place were those cheap little hotel bars I picked up on the road. I guess he considered them appetizers.”

  “He likes hand lotion, too,” Gussy said. “He always tries to lick my hands after—”

  Marian interrupted. “April, go inside, please. You’re not presentable.” Her stare pierced Gussy. “Augustina, take your dog away and then I will see you privately in the library.” Each word was precise and razor sharp.

  April made a face behind her grandmother’s back and tiptoed toward the French doors. “Jed, I hope you’re staying for dinner. We’re celebrating Gussy’s birthday.” She touched her hair. “In ten minutes—yikes!”

  He glanced at Marian. “I don’t think—”

  “Yes, please join us, Jed,” Gussy said quickly, not looking at her grandmother. She concentrated only on the amazing depth of his bright blue eyes. “Please.”

  “All right.” He traced his fingertip down her arm, gave her hand one last squeeze, said, “See you then, Mrs. Throckmorton,” and swiftly left the scene.

  Gussy turned, wavering on her feet but determined that she wouldn’t be called into the library like a naughty child. “Grandmother, I’ll bring Percy away, but I don’t believe we have time for a private…consultation.”

  Surprisingly, Marian looked at the stubborn set of her granddaughter’s jaw and conceded the point without argument. “Then I will simply say this, Augustina, and I suggest you listen closely. Andrews is also invited tonight, and your great-grandfather and I are expecting to celebrate more than your birthday. Mr. Kelley is the gardener. He will have no part in this.”

  Gussy fought to control her reaction, but she couldn’t stop the words that popped out of her mouth, which seemed to be on autopilot. “Yes, ma’am.”

  THE PARTY HAD an edge to it. A sharp, slicing edge, the kind that cut to the quick before a person has a chance to blink, laying bare the bone, revealing the heart of the matter for all to see.

  This is it, Gussy thought again, opening Andrews’s gift to find a small velvet ring box. Inside was a rather large yellow diamond, cushion cut, set in swirls of gold with many tiny diamond chips and four gaudy rubies. She snapped the box shut, one quick look enough to tell her that what had been Andrews’s grandmother’s style wasn’t hers. And Andrews must have known it; he was looking rather peaked, and he kept glancing down the table at Jed, making tiny, nervous hitches with the corners of his lips. Poor, well-meaning Andrews—he’d been manipulated, too.

  Hoping to keep this discreet, Gussy slid the ring box across the tablecloth. “I’m sorry, Andrews,” she whispered under cover of Thwaite wheeling the rolling cart across the paving stones, rattling dessert plates as he cleared the table. “I can’t accept this.”

  Andrews seemed resigned. “I didn’t think so, but your grandmother insisted.”

  “Augustina?” At the far end of the table Marian craned her neck. “What have you got? I’m sure our dear Andrews was most thoughtful.”

  “I am sorry,” Gussy said quietly to Andrews, doing her best to pretend she hadn’t heard her grandmother. “I never meant to hurt your feelings.” She paused. “Why don’t you ask out Sally Barnes? She’s told me she thinks you’re quite handsome.”

  “The redhead with all the freckles?” Andrews looked astonished. “But she’s a local.”

  Gussy tilted up her chin. “So what?”

  “Augustina?” Marian persisted, the level of her voice actually raised. “Show us Andrews’s gift, please.”

  Gussy stood. “As I am not accepting it,” she said deliberately, “I believe that would be inappropriate.”

  April arched her brows. “And, goodness, we Fairchild girls are never inappropriate.” Tony, seated beside her, exchanged a broad wink and fed her the last bite of his birthday cake.

  “I must insist,” Marian said.

  “Non,” Nathalie said firmly. “Mother, I believe Gussy has made her choice. It is not for us to decide otherwise.”

  Philip frowned. “You mean she doesn’t want to marry Andrews?”

  “I never wanted to marry Andrews,” Gussy announced, her hands splayed on the tablecloth. Inside, she was soaring. She felt ten feet tall, inviolable, invincible. Taking charge was not so hard as she’d built it up to be; she’d simply had to open her mouth and do it. Nothing could stop her now, hot even—

  “Great-grandfather!” Gussy exclaimed.

  The evening nurse, Miss Ingersdottir from Iceland, had pushed Elias Throckmorton out to the terrace in an old rattan-and-teak deck chair, as he stubbornly refused modern wheelchairs. Everyone was quiet; the only sounds to be heard were the creak of the wheels and the shush-shush of the ocean. Then they all burst into voice at once, with cries of “How wonderful you’ve joined us!” and “Dear Grandpère!”

  Elias hushed them with a twitch of his forefinger. His cloudy black eyes searched the candlelit faces of the guests; he often didn’t recognize even the members of his immediate family. His gaze stopped at Jed. “You’re the fellow who wants to marry my granddaughter?”

  Marian gaped. She motioned to Andrews frantically, drawing him closer, intending to present him to Elias as their chosen groom.

  Jed said, “Yes.”

  At this declaration, Gussy caught her breath and held on tight to her hard-won conviction even as she melted into the warm wave washing over her. April took her hand; Tony left his seat to put his arm around her waist.

  Gussy stared at Jed, her eyes limpid, her smile trembling.

  After a brief glance at Gussy, Jed looked Elias Throckmòrton square in the face. Rugs and blankets were piled so high in the deck chair that a pair of sunken, beady eyes, a prominent nose and the pale, freckled dome of a bald head were all that he could see of Gussy’s formidable great-grandfather. That, and the spindly fingers hooked like talons over the green binding of an Adirondack blanket.

  A twig-thin index finger pointed at Jed. “I’m here to see that you propose properly.”

  Jed was stunned to discover that the elderly man’s hold over the household was strictly psychological. He’d been imagining Elias Throckmorton as a burly bear of a guy even in his nineties, with a voice like a growl and a biting glare that could strike fear into the heart of man, woman or child. Instead, here was this tiny, swaddled figure, with a skull as fragile as an eggshell and a voice as weak as cambric tea. At most, there was a certain severity swimming in Elias’s watering eyes, a faint echo of the tyrant he might have been.

  Even so, Jed angled his head compliantly. “Whatever you say, sir.”

  “This is Andrews Lowell.” Marian nudged him forward. “Go on,
Andrews, speak up,” she hissed into his ear.

  “Which one is Gussy marrying?” Philip asked his wife.

  “Good question.” Nathalie’s sleek, brunette pageboy swung against her cheeks as she looked from one candidate to the other. “Ooh-la-la, how interesting.”

  “What? Who?” Elias demanded hoarsely.

  “The ocean chill,” Nurse Ingersdottir said. “We must go in.”

  “Now,” Marian told Andrews.

  Gussy took a deep breath. “I will not marry—”

  “Yes, you will.” Elias roused himself to a weak screech that sounded like a turntable needle rasping across a record. “I instructed you to marry this young man and I meant it.” He scrabbled at the blankets, his vulture face looming from their depths. “He will ask and you will accept.”

  Gussy looked at Jed, trying to send a message.

  Jed looked silently at Gussy, needing none. He’d already made up his mind.

  “Now,” Marian said again.

  Andrews opened his mouth.

  Gussy closed her eyes, preparing to reject the proposal because she knew Jed needed to hear the no almost as much as she needed to say it.

  And then it came, the question she’d been dreading: “Gussy, will you marry me?”

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Gussy reached her bedroom, grateful for the dark haven of peace and quiet. The uproar caused by her acceptance of the proposal had whirled around her like a tornado, but she’d stood calmly at its center, certain that she had done the right and proper thing. Fortunately, Great-grandfather hadn’t been quite sure what was going on, and the nurse had wheeled him away before Grandmother had gotten to him, demanding a retraction.

  In any case, it was too late. Gussy was now firmly engaged, and there was no way she’d allow anyone to change that fact.

  She stepped out of her sandals. Unbuttoning, she walked to the window that overlooked the front garden and raised the sash. The cool night air caressed her skin as she slipped out of her yellow silk blouse and skirt, letting them fall to the carpet. Her slip followed with a soft rustle as it slid against her bare legs.