Done in pale blues and whites, it looked like a bedroom out of a dream. He’d remembered that blue was her favorite color, she thought, or was that its original color and she was just reading too much into it?
“The nursery’s right through here.” Mrs. Rutledge opened the door to a small adjoining room. “This gets the morning sun,” she told her. Right now, rain pounded against the panes. “When it’s available.”
Joanna crossed to the crib, looking at it in awe. It was an antique. Mrs. Rutledge placed the baby in it, then covered the infant with a blanket.
Joanna looked at the woman. “Where did you—?”
“This used to be Mr. Rick’s. I had it taken out of storage when I heard you would be staying with us.”
“Temporarily,” Joanna interjected.
“We’re all here temporarily, Miss Joanna,” Mrs. Rutledge replied. “On our way to other places.” She smiled warmly. “No reason we can’t be comfortable while we’re here, is there?”
Joanna slanted a glance toward Rick. Damn, but her heart was going to be in jeopardy again, she just knew it. “That depends on what that comfort costs.”
“Not a dime, Joanna, not a dime.”
She turned to him. “You know I can’t accept all this.”
“We’ll discuss it later,” he told her. “I’ve got to be going.” She still looked frail to him somehow. Squelching the protective feeling stirring within him, he drew Joanna aside. “You’ll be all right?”
“I have Mrs. Rutledge, how could I not be?” She looked around her. “You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble, you know.”
Maybe not, but he’d wanted to. Maybe she still had some kind of hold on him, despite everything. “I didn’t,” he lied. “All I did was tell Mrs. Rutledge and she did the rest.” He caught Mrs. Rutledge looking at him. The woman, he knew, didn’t approve of lies.
He was lying, Joanna thought. She could always tell when he was lying. His tone changed. Moved, she brushed a kiss against his check. He jerked back as if she’d burned him.
Flustered, she took a step back herself. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Stupid to overreact that way, he upbraided himself. It was just that he didn’t want to start anything. Then why did you bring her here? “It’s just been a while, that’s all.”
Despite his resolve, Rick couldn’t hold back the warmth that insisted on spreading through him. There’d been women since Joanna had left his life. A host of women. In the beginning, he’d tried to lose himself in them, to engage in hot, mindless sex intended to burn away her very memory. It didn’t, and he’d learned soon enough how futile that effort was.
Even so, for a year after he’d left Bedford, he’d forced himself to remain active on the social scene until he’d finally abandoned the futile effort.
No one had ever affected him the way she had.
You never forget your first love. Mrs. Rutledge had told him that. Mrs. Rutledge had an annoying habit of being right.
“I leave her in your capable hands, Mrs. Rutledge,” he said to the housekeeper. With that, he left the room.
“He’s never been the same, you know,” the woman confided once Rick was safely out the door. “Not since you left.” Mrs. Rutledge silently closed the nursery door and gently ushered Joanna to her bed. “I just thought you’d want to know that.”
Joanna didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want to feel guilty about doing something that had cost her more than anyone could ever guess. “Mrs. Rutledge—”
The woman held up her hands. “I’m not asking you why you broke it off with him. I’m sure you had your reasons. It’s none of my affair what happened between the two of you.” She drew back the comforter and waited for Joanna to sit down. “I just think you should know that you were the only ray of sunshine this house had seen in a very long time and when you left, the light went out. Out of the house and out of his eyes.”
She spread the comforter over Joanna much the way she had over the baby, then crossed to the doorway. “I’ll just be down the hall. Call me if there’s anything you need. Anything,” she underlined.
Suddenly exhausted, Joanna was having trouble keeping her eyes open. “I just want to close my eyes for a few minutes.”
The woman nodded her approval as she slowly eased the door closed.
Five
The sound of persistent tapping made its way into Joanna’s consciousness, rousing her brain and lifting it from the depths of sleep. Raindrops, she realized. Raindrops were hitting the window panes.
Joanna forced her eyes open. The room was nestled in darkness.
She wasn’t alone.
She bolted upright, a sense of fear blanketing her. The shape she’d vaguely discerned took on form. Rick was standing beside the bed, looking down at her.
“Wha-what are you doing here?”
He grinned, the left corner of his mouth rising a little higher than the right. She’d teased him more than once about his lop-sided grin.
“You keep asking me that. My house, remember?”
It took a second, but she did remember. Remember everything. The fire, Rachel being born, Mrs. Rutledge. She sighed. “Oh, right. I remember.”
“You feel up to dinner? Or do you want me to have Mrs. Rutledge bring you a tray?”
She couldn’t allow herself to be waited on, no matter how tempting. “I’m not an invalid.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” Rick crossed to the doorway. “Mrs. Rutledge is right outside. I’ll see you in the dining room,” he told her as he left.
She felt foolish. She’d only meant to close her eyes for a few minutes. How long had she been asleep? She glanced at the clock on the night stand.
“Omigod,” she cried out loud, “it’s almost six o’clock. I slept over five hours.”
Mrs. Rutledge stuck her head in from the nursery. “Certainly looks that way.”
When Rick had said the housekeeper was outside, she’d thought he meant the hallway. She didn’t realize he was talking about the nursery. Joanna quickly swung her legs down from the bed. “The baby—”
For an older woman, Mrs. Rutledge knew how to move fast without giving the impression of moving at all. She was beside her before Joanna could finish her sentence, placing a hand on her shoulder to keep the new mother from leaping up and possibly hurting something.
“She’s fine, dear. I’ve been in to check on her several times.” She smiled warmly at Joanna. “You, too. You were easier. You didn’t need any changing or feeding.”
It was her responsibility to care for the baby, not the housekeeper’s. Some mother she made. Joanna dragged her hand through her hair and looked at the other woman, guilt nibbling away at her. “You changed her?”
Because it was already dark, Mrs. Rutledge went to the windows and began drawing the drapes.
“I’m from a large family, dear. Took care of my share of babies. Things haven’t changed all that much. One end eats, the other eliminates.” She saw Joanna looking toward the next room. “You can reassure yourself about Rachel’s condition and even have enough time to freshen up before dinner.”
“Dinner,” Joanna echoed, trying to straighten out the jumble in her head. “Rick said something about that just now.”
She wasn’t altogether sure she was up to facing him over a meal. She’d had some pretty erotic dreams just now, all of which had involved him. With their effect still hovering over her brain, it became rather difficult for her to remember to keep her distance from him.
Mrs. Rutledge crossed back to her, folding her hands rather primly before her.
“He arrived home half an hour ago.” She smiled. “He came in and checked on you himself, couldn’t believe you were still sleeping. He also took over Rachel’s last feeding.”
She stared at the housekeeper as if the woman had just told her Rick had sprouted wings and flown over the house. “He fed Rachel?”
The woman nodded. “Didn’t do that bad a job of it, either.” Mrs. Rutl
edge smiled. “Man’s a natural. Some men should be fathers,” the housekeeper said pointedly, looking at Joanna.
“Mrs. Rutledge—” This was going into territory she didn’t feel up to dealing with tonight.
Like a seasoned stock-car driver negotiating a track, Mrs. Rutledge effortlessly changed the course of the conversation. “There’s a fresh dress for you hanging in the closet.”
“Fresh dress?” Surprised, Joanna turned and looked over her shoulder toward the mirrored closet.
“Mr. Rick picked it up on his way home. If you ask me, the man’s got a flair for shopping as well. Not many of those around these days.” Her work here was finished. Mrs. Rutledge crossed to the doorway. “Dinner’s in the dining room at six-thirty.”
Still sitting on the bed, Joanna scooted back and pulled her legs up to her, encircling them with her arms as she leaned her head against her knee.
This had to be a dream, she thought. A housekeeper who doubled as a nanny, new clothes that magically appeared when she needed them. And a Prince Charming who fed and burped babies. A dream all right.
She slowly shook her head. It was tempting, so tempting to pretend that things could go back to the way they had once been.
But they couldn’t. Too much had happened, too much time had gone by. You could go home again, but only to visit, not to stay.
Needing to center herself, to touch base with the reality that was her life, Joanna got up and went to see her baby.
The dress fit.
But then, she’d never doubted that it would. After all, Rick had picked it out and he had always had an eye for color, for sizes. For everything that mattered. He was, she thought, pretty nearly perfect.
And not hers anymore. He might have saved her, might have brought her here for old times’ sake, but she couldn’t allow herself to confuse kindness with what they’d once had.
And didn’t have anymore, she reminded herself.
As she’d slipped on the light-blue dress, the fabric felt soft and feminine against her skin. It made her feel the same.
Joanna smiled at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair into place. Blond waves fell, framing her face. How was it that he always knew just what to do? Except once, of course, she amended.
But that was all in the past and it had to stay there. For both their sakes.
Ready, she tiptoed into the next room. Rachel was asleep again.
She felt a tug at her heart, seeing the baby in what had been Rick’s old crib. This was the way things should have been.
But they weren’t, and she should be grateful for what was, not regretful about what wasn’t.
Joanna looked down at Rachel a moment longer, before stealing off. Best baby in the whole world, she thought. Of course, her first night alone was still ahead of her. That would be the real trial by fire.
So would going in and facing Rick over dinner, she thought.
The irony of the situation struck her full force. There was a time, she mused, when it wouldn’t have been necessary to brace herself in order to see him. There was a time when she would have raced into the dining room on winged feet instead of leaden ones.
“I can do this,” she told herself as she left the room.
After taking one wrong turn, she found her way to the dining room. Rick was already seated, sipping a glass of wine. He rose in his chair when she entered.
“Your manners always were impeccable,” she told him as she walked in.
The dining room, like the rest of the estate, was formal, with a long table designed for entertaining large parties of people. There were four tall, white tapered candles, set in silver, with flames softly teasing the air. Her place setting, she noted, was opposite his, all the way at the other end of the table. She wondered if she needed to drop bread crumbs to find her way back.
“Training,” he murmured. His eyes swept over her, appreciating the silhouette she cast. If there were any remnants of her pregnancy, he certainly couldn’t detect them. She was as trim as he remembered her. As trim as she appeared in his dreams. He banked down the ache he felt in his loins. “The dress looks nice on you.”
As if she were bringing out the best in the dress instead of the other way around. Her mouth curved. The man had always known his way around a compliment.
Seating herself, Joanna looked down at the garment. “Thank you. Again.”
“Wine?” he asked. He held his glass aloft when she didn’t seem to hear. “Or are you—?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not nursing her.” Her voice seemed to disappear into the atmosphere. She raised her voice. “Rachel’s perfect in every way, but she has an allergy.” She gave a small shrug. “To me, it would seem, or at least to my milk. The doctor said she’s better off with a formula.” She saw that he was beginning to rise and guessed at his intent. “But I’ll pass on the wine right now. It’ll just make me sleepy.”
Although, sitting here, looking at him, was making her anything but sleepy. Anticipation seemed to be jumping through her veins, even though she knew there was nothing to anticipate.
He sat down again. Joanna toyed with her thoughts for exactly two seconds before giving voice to them. “You know, you can’t just keep buying me things.”
It appeared to her as if he was looking at her pointedly, although at this distance, she wasn’t sure. “There was a time I would have bought you anything.”
She lowered her eyes to her plate. Prime rib. Her favorite. Mrs. Rutledge had outdone herself. “And there was a time I would have let you, but right now, I’m beginning to feel like an indentured servant.”
After taking another sip, Rick set down his glass. “If I recall my history correctly, the bargain was usually for seven years. Recalculating that to take in approximately two hundred and fifty years of inflation, I’d say the length of time would probably be extended to something like thirty-two years now.”
Her fingers tightened around her fork. Was he saying that he wanted her in his life? No, that was only wishful thinking on her part.
“I’ll pay you back in cash, if you don’t mind.” Was he frowning? She certainly couldn’t tell. The candles weren’t giving enough illumination and the light from the chandelier had been dimmed. “I could have worn the suit you bought.”
“You fell asleep in that,” he pointed out. “The alternative was to have Mrs. Rutledge unearth one of my mother’s dresses for you out of the attic.” He knew exactly how she would have reacted to that. It was no secret that his mother had never had any use for her. “I don’t think you would have wanted that.”
“No, you’re right.” She saw him cock his head. He hadn’t heard her. “I said, you’re right.” She frowned. “You know, I’m beginning to think I know why your parents drifted apart. It was this table. It’s longer than the boundaries for Rhode Island.”
Picking up the corners of her place setting, Joanna abruptly rose to her feet and slid the setting along the surface of the table until she reached the last chair directly to his right. Leaving her place setting there, she went back to retrieve her glass. She put it next to her plate and sat down triumphantly.
“There.”
He’d watched her in amusement, remembering how her very presence had brought a freshness into his life that he had been utterly unaware was missing. Until she came. “I thought you might be more comfortable over there.”
“I was getting hoarse over there,” she contradicted. “I couldn’t see your eyes from where I was sitting.”
“And that’s important?”
“Haven’t you heard? Eyes are the windows to the soul.” She realized that her eyes were smiling into his. God, but she had missed him. Missed him with every fiber of her being. It wasn’t easy being noble. “Did your parents always eat like that?”
He shrugged. “When they ate together at all, yes. But most of the time they weren’t even here. My father kept late hours and was away on business a great deal. My mother had her clubs, her charity work, it pretty much
kept her out of the house. The only time they were here together was when they entertained.” He looked around the room. It had always felt cold to him, even in the dead of summer. “I took a lot of my meals alone in here.”
She could see him, a lost boy hungering for more than food at mealtimes. Something else to hold against his mother. Why did women have children if they didn’t want to be with them? What organization could possibly have had a better claim to her time and her heart than her own son? “Charity begins at home.”
Joanna said it with such fierceness, he had to struggle not to smile. She hadn’t lost any of her feistiness, he noted. He realized that it pleased him. “My mother always thought that a very trite saying.”
Joanna took a long sip of cold water, not trusting herself to answer right away. Maybe it was disrespectful to speak ill of the dead, but there was nothing about the late socialite that Joanna had liked.
“No offense, but your mother always had a way of belittling people and making them feel as if they were beneath her.”
This time, he did smile. “None taken. She wasn’t exactly cut out of the same cloth that Mother Teresa was.” It was something he’d made his peace with as a young boy. He’d actually thought that everyone’s mother was like this. Until he’d met Joanna’s, and in Joanna’s case, the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. “I always envied the bond you had with your mother.”
“I was lucky.” Joanna smiled. Her mother was probably her favorite topic.
Her wording struck him as ironic. “Not many people would have said that—” He stopped abruptly, realizing what he’d almost said.
He was referring to her mother’s circumstances. The reason his parents had come to her and said what they had. She raised her chin defensively. She wasn’t ashamed of who she was.
“In my place?” she guessed, concluding his thought. “Why, because my father did the proverbial disappearing act right after my mother told him she was pregnant? Because my mother had to raise me alone?”
A Bachelor and a Baby Page 6
