No, she had to stop thinking about such matters. Her main concern now must be deciding what she would say to the esteemed Dr. Humphrey. Brenna entertained no illusions about gaining any real justice out of the mess. But it had become important to let the man know she was well aware of what he had done and what she thought of him for doing it. She was the only one who could stand up for her own rights. It had been wrong to hope that Damon would stand beside her. Some things a person had to do for herself. If there was ever a philosophical bit of truth, that was it!
The apartment she had left for the summer seemed almost unwilling to welcome her back so soon. It was closed up and too neat, just as she had left it. There was also no food in the place.
Hours later, tired by the drive and her own nervous tension, Brenna crawled between the cold sheets, turned on her electric blanket, and fell asleep. And dreamed of a man with silver-gray eyes.
She chose her clothes with care the following evening, the kind of clothes that a woman would wear when she knew she would be standing alone. She wasn’t about to fade into the room on this particular occasion. The suit was classic white, spare and cleanly designed with a rakish shape to the upstanding collar that framed her throat. Underneath she wore a chrome-yellow silk blouse. The contrast with her dark hair and the yellow-heeled white leather pumps made an impact that would not go unnoticed. Standing in front of her bedroom mirror, she twisted her hair into a sleek, severe knot and added a yellow and turquoise bracelet to one wrist. The amber in her eyes seemed almost gold as she stared critically back at herself. Would anyone else notice the tension and, yes, the fear in those eyes?
Deliberately choosing to arrive late at the on-campus faculty club, Brenna walked through the quiet grounds with a firm stride that belied her inner nervousness. The college was operating some special summer programs this year, but even with those in progress there wasn’t nearly the usual bustle of students and faculty as there was during the academic year.
The understated elegance of the faculty club was the result of a bequest from a generous alumnus. The room had been designed to resemble the gracious library of an English manor house and, as was appropriate, sherry would be the beverage served. Brenna wasn’t surprised to see the delicate little tea sandwiches that accompanied it. The staff of the campus cafeteria somehow always managed to produce fairly interesting tidbits for these occasions.
The subdued hum of conversation was as appropriate as the little sandwiches and the sherry. The room was full of faculty members from all of the college’s various department, including the library. Brenna stood silently in the doorway for a moment absorbing the scene. Dr. Paul Humphrey was, naturally, the focus of attention of the most important of the evening’s guests. The provost and his wife, the head of the library, and several other notables stood grouped around the retiring faculty member. At Humphrey’s right hand stood Damon Fielding.
“Brenna! You made it! I’m so glad you got my note.”
Diana Bergen came quickly toward her, her attractive features cheerfully drawn into a smile of welcome. She was a couple of years older than Brenna and had recently been promoted to associate professor in the philosophy department.
“Thanks for thinking of me when you heard the news, Diana.” Brenna accepted the delicate glass of sherry and took a sip. She was going to need it.
“I really thought it would be a good idea for you to show up.” Diana nodded, glancing over her shoulder at the group surrounding Paul Humphrey. “I know Humphrey is a little pompous and no one’s going to be overly sad to see him leave, but it’s important to be seen at functions like this. A good opportunity to show the provost you have a proper respect for senior members of the faculty community,” she added with a knowing little chuckle.
A few weeks ago Brenna wouldn’t have thought twice about the little customs, niceties, and command performances demanded of a junior faculty member. A certain amount of socializing was important in any job, and she would be the last to belittle the civilizing factor of good manners. But there was no denying that her view was jaundiced this evening. A glance around the room seemed to show nothing but people playing the subtle political game of climbing the academic ladder. Would any of these people even want to know about what had happened to her? Would they care that she had been Humphrey’s victim, or would they just as soon never hear about it? She guessed the latter. Once they knew about it, they would have to take sides, and the only sensible side to take was Humphrey’s. Humphrey, of course, would deny the whole incident.
She didn’t have the right to involve anyone else, anyway, Brenna reminded herself as she circulated quietly through the crowd. This was between herself and Paul Humphrey. She glanced again at his aristocratic profile as he held court in the center of the elegant Oriental carpet. He was a tall man, his thick mane of snow-white hair lending him a patrician air. Somehow she was going to have to manage to get him off by himself.
As she watched him through coolly narrowed eyes, sipping at her sherry, Damon Fielding glanced across the room and saw her. She saw the surprise and dismay in his eyes, and then he was moving toward her.
“Brenna!” He sounded wary. “I’m glad you decided to come tonight. It’s about time you realized the facts of academic life. As you can see, Humphrey is virtually out the door. You won’t have to work for him in the fall. No point in making a scene now, is there? It was an unpleasant incident but not one worth ruining your image with the rest of the faculty and the provost. I guarantee things will be different when I take over Humphrey’s position!”
“Is it settled then? You’ll be appointed head?” she queried.
“It’s definite. In fact, Humphrey decided to bow out early just so that I could take over a little sooner than planned.” There was no hiding the satisfaction in him and he proved it with his next words. “I also want you to know I’m not holding a grudge about what happened in Tahoe, Brenna. I realize you were under a great deal of strain at the time.”
“Thank you, Damon,” Brenna said slowly, surprised at the magnanimousness of the statement. It gave her the opening to make her own apology and she seized it quickly. “I was so shocked when my neighbor struck you. He overreacted, of course, but you must see how it happened,” she added earnestly. “He saw us arguing and he had no way of knowing at the time who you were.”
Damon’s mouth twisted ruefully and his handsome face seemed to soften with genuine understanding. “I should never have slapped you. That was really all he had a chance to see, and he reacted to it without stopping to ask questions first, didn’t he?”
“Something like that, I’m afraid. I’m—I’m sorry I provoked you, Damon. I had no right to say the things I did. No right at all.”
“Brenna, who was he?” Damon demanded with an underlying urgency.
“My neighbor.” Her eyes flickered briefly across the room to track Humphrey’s movements.
“Someone important to you?” Damon persisted. “I was angry at the time and implied a few things I had no right to imply.”
“He’s my neighbor for the summer, Damon. A friend.” How could she possibly begin to explain Ryder Sterne’s role in her life when she hadn’t figured it out herself?
“I see. Did you tell him about us?” Damon sounded almost cautious now. “Did you explain why we were arguing that morning? Who I am?”
“I told him who you are,” Brenna admitted slowly.
“Good,” he murmured, apparently relieved. “Then he knows what the situation between you and me is.”
Brenna looked at him, thinking how she had intended to try to explain Ryder to Damon. She knew now that would be a pointless effort because she didn’t have all the right words to attempt such an explanation. In any event there really wasn’t time. She was here on another mission altogether this evening, one Damon seemed to have all too quickly misconstrued. Brenna took a deep breath.
“Damon, I came here tonight because I’m going to confront Humphrey.”
His expression of sat
isfaction faded into one that, if she hadn’t known better, Brenna might have taken for fear.
“You can’t! What would be the point? For God’s sake, he’s literally out the door! What good can it do you to confront him tonight? Let it be, Brenna, just let it be, will you? You’ll only be doing yourself an incredible amount of damage!”
“I just want him to know I’m aware of what he did to me, Damon,” she said steadily. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to get involved or take sides. I should never have done that in the first place. This is strictly between Humphrey and myself.” She smiled a little grimly. “If it makes you feel any better, rest assured I’m not even going to cause a major scene. That’s not my way. I’m not going to stand here and yell at him at the top of my lungs. That would be a—a form of violence, wouldn’t it? I’m really not a very violent person. I’m going to take him quietly aside and confront him with what he did. I just want him to know that I know and I want him to be aware of what I think of him. That’s all the revenge I’m seeking, Damon, believe me.”
“He could still hurt your career, Brenna.”
“From out of retirement?”
“Going into retirement doesn’t mean he’ll be giving up all his associations and his friendships, damn it! He could still put a word or two in certain ears and influence certain people against you!” he argued urgently.
“I’ll have to take the risk, Damon. I want to be sure he knows what I think about him for lowering the honor of his profession to this extent.”
“Honor!” Damon exploded vengefully. “What the hell does honor have to do with a career? Brenna, compromises have to be made in every line of work. Let this matter go and your own career can only benefit. It will be worth it to your future to be rational about this!”
She looked at him levelly. “You mean because I won’t be running the risk of Humphrey trying to damage my career?”
“I mean,” he declared with emphasis, “that if you’ll let things ride, I will personally make it worth your while.” He returned her astonished expression with one of cool defiance.
“What on earth… ? Damon, what are you saying?”
“I’m going to be the new department head, Brenna.”
“Yes, I understand that, but…”
“And as such I will be in a position to, shall we say, compensate you for what the outgoing department head did to you.” He waited, watching her narrowly, the way Brenna imagined a high-powered chief of a large corporation might watch a junior manager to whom he had just offered something akin to a bribe.
“Compensate me,” she echoed flatly.
“As head of the philosophy department I will have a lot of influence over matters such as promotion and tenure and even publication. You’ll find it will be worth your while not to take any step tonight that will jeopardize your career.”
“Damon, are you trying to bribe me?” she whispered in mingled astonishment and dismay. She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
“I can’t seem to talk sense into you,” he bit out angrily. “And I care too much about you to let you ruin your future. If bribing you to keep silent is what it takes to make you act reasonably this evening, then that’s what I’m doing, yes!”
“Oh, Damon,” she murmured with a sad little shake of her head. “You just don’t understand, and I honestly don’t know how to explain any further.” But Ryder understood, Brenna thought fleetingly. Ryder comprehended matters of personal justice and honor and ethics even though he’d never made a formal study of them. How could Damon, who had made a formal study of them, be so blind? “I appreciate your intentions but I can’t let the matter drop. I feel I have to say something to Humphrey. I wonder how many times he’s published other people’s work as his own?”
“You’re going to go through with this act of stupidity even though nothing you say or do will change the situation? Brenna, listen to me!”
But it was too late for further remonstrations on Damon’s part. Even as he opened his mouth to continue the argument, a well-modulated masculine voice was breaking in on his words. “Ah, there you are, Fielding. Wondered where you’d gone. Should have guessed when I saw our charming Miss Llewellyn in the crowd, though! So glad to see you again, Brenna, my dear.” Paul Humphrey inclined his head with an Old World grace. “Very thoughtful of you to come back for this little farewell the faculty arranged for me. I understood you were spending the summer in Tahoe?”
So charming, so aristocratic and courtly. So esteemed in his profession. Brenna found herself at a loss to understand how this man could look her in the eye and try to charm her as if nothing had happened. She was aware of a thrill of apprehension. Even when you knew you were right, it wasn’t always easy to face this kind of scene, she thought. Brenna met the benign gaze with determination.
“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Dr. Humphrey.” Her adrenaline switched into high gear. She would never have a better opportunity. There was only Damon to witness the confrontation, and that didn’t really matter since he knew the facts. If he chose to hang around while she faced Paul Humphrey with her accusations, that was his business, but Brenna wondered why he didn’t decide to drift off and leave her to her fate. “You see, there was something I wanted to discuss with you before you retired.”
Paul Humphrey smiled charmingly. “You needn’t worry about my disappearing entirely, my dear. I fully intend to take advantage of all the privileges belonging to retired faculty members. I expect you’ll see me around—I understand I’m even going to be allowed to maintain an office in the north wing of the library. Just an old war horse, I’m afraid. I wouldn’t be able to stay totally out of harness. But I am going to take a vacation before I adjust to my new role in life. A trip to Greece that my wife and I have been promising ourselves for years,” he confided jovially.
“Dr. Humphrey, I really must speak to you,” Brenna began formally, her stomach twisting into a knot of tension. This was ridiculous. She must stand up for her rights. She must let this man know what she thought of him. She owed it to herself and to the honor of her profession.
“Of course, my dear.” He winked broadly. “But I’ll bet I can guess what it is you want to discuss!”
Brenna parted her lips to begin the quiet accusation, but before she could get the first words out of her mouth she became aware of two things almost simultaneously.
The first was the utterly beseeching expression on Damon Fielding’s face. He was silently pleading with her not to continue. Does he really care that much about my future career? she wondered, taken aback.
The second factor that impinged on her consciousness at that crucial juncture was a faint sensation of heightened awareness. It was the kind of sensation that made you turn your head in a crowd and look around to see who was watching you.
For a split second Brenna succumbed to the primitive pull and slid a quick, uneasy glance toward the door. She turned her head just in time to see Ryder enter the room.
For an instant she couldn’t move, quite stunned by his presence. What was Ryder doing there? In the next moment she realized that there could be only one explanation. He hadn’t trusted her to return to Tahoe.
The knowledge of that mistrust bit deep. It was suddenly more important than anything else this evening, including her confrontation with Paul Humphrey. Ryder hadn’t trusted her to keep her word!
Across the room, Ryder’s glance collided with hers. He barely nodded at the polite but curious hostess who was pushing a delicate sherry glass into his hand. His silver eyes never left Brenna’s as he started toward her.
It was like watching a jungle cat glide across the room, Ryder had dressed for the occasion, but apparently without any concern for the style of masculine dress favored in the pompous atmosphere of a faculty club. He certainly wasn’t wearing anything like the British tweeds or the quiet, conservative suits that predominated in the room. The fawn-colored sportcoat was cut with Continental flair, not British conservatism, and it was shap
ed out of the supplest of suedes. The slacks were a darker brown, lean-fitting and expensive. The tie was a bold splash of gold and brown and it was worn over a brown silk shirt. With his tawny hair, he resembled a lion to Brenna’s stricken gaze.
“I beg your pardon, my dear,” Paul Humphrey prompted politely in a bid to regain her attention.
She forced herself to turn back to the task at hand, fiercely aware of the fact that Ryder was almost upon her. She could only tackle one thing at a time, she reminded herself. Ryder’s mistrust would have to be dealt with later.
“Brenna, please!” Damon’s tight voice broke into her concentration.
“About the paper you’re publishing on the subject of computer ethics, Dr. Humphrey,” she began challengingly, feeling as if everything were happening at once and knowing she had to regain control of herself and the situation.
“Ah, yes,” Humphrey nodded imperturbably. “I’m not at all surprised you’re interested in it. I hope you’ll be able to get something useful out of it for your own project. I understand you’re working on a related issue?” One white brow arched in polite inquiry.
Brenna nearly choked on her last sip of sherry. “Get something useful out of it!”
“Brenna, listen to me!”
Damon again. With a flash of insight triggered by the knowledge of Ryder’s presence behind her, Brenna realized she was strangely glad that Damon Fielding had chosen not to stand beside her in this matter. For if he had, she would need to feel somewhat obligated to him, and the last thing she wanted now was a feeling of obligation toward Damon. She wanted to be free, totally free, to go to Ryder. The impact of that knowledge was almost overwhelming.
“Yes, indeed,” Dr. Humphrey was continuing expansively. “But quite frankly, if it’s clarification or amplification you need, I suggest you talk to Dr. Fielding, here.”
Affair of Honor Page 15
