Judith Stacy

by The One Month Marriage

  “Like you?”

  “Exactly.”

  Jana rolled her eyes. “Would you please leave? I’m tired, my feet hurt and I want to go to bed.”

  “Oh, here then.”

  Brandon sprang off the vanity bench and dragged over an upholstered chair.

  “Sit down,” he said.

  She didn’t move.

  He gestured to the bed. “If you’d rather, we can go there and—”

  “Never mind.” Jana plopped down in the chair.

  Brandon straddled the bench, caught her ankle and pulled her foot up between his legs.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, yanking down her nightgown.

  “I think you’d enjoy a foot rub,” he told her, cupping her ankle with one hand. He gave her a crooked smile. “I think you’d enjoy a great deal more than that, but you’ll have to settle for my hands on your feet right now.”

  “You’re certainly full of yourself tonight,” she told him, fighting off the warmth of his palm.

  “Let’s see now,” he said, looking over the selection of bottles on the vanity table.

  He scooted a little closer to her and Jana’s whole leg seemed to ignite knowing what rested against her arch.

  “This one should do it.” Brandon dipped the thick cream from the cobalt-blue jar and rubbed it between his hands, warming it. He spread it over her feet, rubbing gently, sliding his long fingers between her toes. Jana tried not to relax, tried not to enjoy it. By the time he went to work on her other foot, she gave up the struggle.

  She could have let him keep at it all night, but knew it was better if he left. At least, that’s what her head told her. The rest of her said something entirely different.

  “I’m sure it’s safe to leave now.”

  “You’re just going to use me, then send me on my way?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Aren’t you going to offer to return the favor?”

  “I don’t think a foot rub is the favor you’d ask for.”

  “I might surprise you,” he said, looking slightly offended.

  “I doubt that.”

  Brandon lowered her foot gently to the floor, then rose from the bench. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” she said.

  He hesitated a moment, then crossed the room and opened the door. He peeked out, then jumped back inside and closed the door.

  “Aunt Rosa is in the hallway,” he whispered.

  “She is not. You’re making that up as an excuse to stay here.”

  “Come see for yourself.”

  Determined to prove a point, Jana walked over and opened the door a crack. She leaned forward, then gasped as her bottom snuggled against Brandon. Glancing over her shoulder she saw him leaning into her.

  “Get off of me,” she said.

  “I’m just trying to see into the hallway,” he said, attempting to look innocent as he stepped back.

  Jana glanced outside, then opened the door wider and stepped into the hallway. “There’s no one out here.”

  Brandon ambled out of Jana’s room. “I could have sworn I saw Aunt Rosa.”

  “Good night, Brandon.”

  She turned to go back into her room, but Brandon stepped in front of her, blocking her path. He eased closer, forcing her against the wall. Gazing down at her, he held her captive with only the look in his eyes.

  “I’ll be in my room all night,” he whispered, “just in case you change your mind and decide to force yourself on me.”

  “That won’t happen,” she told him. But even as she spoke the words, her breath grew short as the heat of his body seeped through her thin robe and gown.

  “Are you sure?” Brandon touched his finger to the spot behind her ear—the one he’d made such good use of this morning in the storage room—and trailed his finger down her throat to the top button of her robe.

  An ache of longing rose in Jana. How she wanted to give in to him, to her own desire. How she wished things could be good between them. That their future could be bright and filled with hope.

  But she’d sealed their marriage to doom in London when she’d decided not to tell Brandon about his child. And it was too late to change that now.

  She allowed herself one last look at him, then tore away and went into her room, closing the door firmly behind her.

  Brandon stared at the door, his body throbbing, fighting against every instinct that urged him to go in after her. If he got her into bed, she’d be his. He’d have her. She wouldn’t leave him again. The bond between them would be too strong for her to break.

  But that was no way to start their marriage over a second time. Brandon grumbled under his breath as he pushed away from her door and went into his own room.

  He’d come up with this idea of getting her into bed, thinking it would solve their problems, but so far the plan only seemed to be working on him. He wanted her now even more than before. He was miserable with need, achy from longing, exhausted with desire.

  And he was still sleeping alone.

  Brandon punched his fist into his open palm. He needed a better plan.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After a second day of squiring Aunt Rosa around town, traveling to the ocean and taking in an orange grove, Jana had to press her lips together to keep from cheering when the woman announced at supper that she planned to be on her way the following morning.

  “So soon?” Jana asked, trying not to sound excited at the news.

  She glanced at Brandon, seated at the far end of the dining table. His expression gave away nothing. Jana had been surprised that he’d spent every moment these past two days with her and his aunt—shopping, driving around in circles, eating delicate sandwiches and sipping tea at restaurants. He hadn’t seemed all that close to his aunt, or any of his family, for that matter.

  Was he glad she intended to leave because he’d tired of playing the good host, the dutiful nephew? Was he anxious to get back to his office?

  Or was it something more? With Brandon, Jana could never be sure.

  “I’m off to San Diego,” Aunt Rosa said. “Meeting friends there, you know.”

  “And where to after that?” Brandon asked.

  Aunt Rosa’s wrinkled brow pulled together. “Somewhere in California, I think.”

  Jana and Brandon exchanged a look. Aunt Rosa was a trifle difficult to deal with, at times, but at her age that was to be expected. During this past year, one thing Jana had discovered she possessed an unceasing supply of was patience. It pleased her to see that Brandon seemed to have the same—at least where his aunt was concerned.

  They finished supper, then retired to the sitting room. Aunt Rosa chatted about the friends she planned to meet in San Diego, how she’d met them, when and where. Jana didn’t know the people and Brandon didn’t seem to know them either, but they let her talk.

  “I’d better retire for the evening,” Jana said, after a while.

  “Well, yes, of course,” Aunt Rosa said. “I suppose I should retire as well.”

  “Good night, then,” Jana said and left the room, leaving Brandon to escort his aunt upstairs.

  When she got to her bedchamber, Jana’s routine was much the same as the night before. A hot bath, a fresh gown and robe. She wiped steam from the bathroom mirror and studied her reflection. Damp and dewy, her hair up, a few tendrils curling around her neck. Pink cheeks. Moist lips.

  Was this the look of a woman who expected to find her husband waiting in her bedchamber?

  Last night. Brandon seated at her vanity table. It had been so long since she’d seen him there, strong and sturdy among her delicate, feminine things.

  Would he be there again tonight?

  Jana pushed the thought—and the little surge of emotion—away and admonished herself. She didn’t want Brandon in her bedchamber.

  But when she stepped out of her dressing room and saw the empty vanity bench, her heart sank. Disappointment settled in her stomach, and she—

  “
Enjoy your bath?”

  She whirled at the sound of his voice and saw him lying on her bed. Stretched out, propped up on a stack of pillows, his hands behind his head and his ankles crossed, he watched her.

  Jana’s heart fluttered. “What are you doing in here?”

  His gaze caressed her for a moment. “I like seeing you right after your bath. Remember, Jana? Those first three months together? You’d let me brush your hair. Did you like that about us?”

  Yes, she remembered. Jana’s heart beat a little harder at the recollection. Yet she couldn’t tell him how much she had enjoyed those times with him. It would be too cruel…giving him false hope.

  “I take it,” Jana said, changing the subject, “that your aunt is loose in the house, spying on us.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Brandon said. “But I’m here tonight for something else.”

  Just what that something else might be sprang up between them. Jana’s breath caught. Brandon sat up on the bed.

  “I wanted to thank you for being such a gracious hostess to my aunt,” he said.

  Jana relaxed a little at this safe topic of conversation.

  “I enjoyed her visit. She’s a little trying, at times, but who isn’t?” Jana said. “Besides, she’s the only member of your family I’ve ever met.”

  She thought he might speak up, volunteer something about his relatives in New York, but he didn’t.

  “So,” Brandon said. “Thank you. It was a difficult two days.”

  “Two days and you didn’t go to your office once,” Jana said, shaking her head in awe. “I don’t remember you ever taking even one day off from your work.”

  “Yeah. That was damn stupid of me.”

  His admission startled her. So did the sincerity in his gaze when he looked up at her.

  “I did a lot of stupid things. Most of them involved you,” he said.

  “When I was in London, I thought of you every day.”

  The confession slipped out before Jana realized what she was saying. But it was true. She’d thought of him because she carried his child. Because she was confused and didn’t know what to do. Because she couldn’t bear facing the same sort of life with him if she returned home.

  Because she feared he’d take her baby from her.

  Surprise showed on Brandon’s face at her unexpected admission. He rose from the bed, but didn’t come any closer.

  “I daydreamed that I’d find myself standing at a window,” Jana went on, “and suddenly, you’d appear. You’d leap from a carriage, charge up the stairs and take me into your arms, begging for forgiveness. You’d confess that you couldn’t live without me and plead with me to return home with you.”

  “But I didn’t,” he said, a pained expression on his face.

  Jana wasn’t sure if it was the memory of his complacency that troubled him, or something else.

  Brandon took a step toward her. “I wanted you to come back, Jana. But I couldn’t…”

  “Couldn’t what?” she asked.

  He opened his mouth as if he wanted to tell her something, then turned away, no longer meeting her gaze.

  She fought the urge to go to him, comfort him, find a way to ease whatever troubled him.

  “It was all my fault,” she said at last. “I was the one who left. I accepted the consequences of my actions.”

  They were quiet for a long while, just looking at each other, both lost in thought.

  “So what happens next?” Brandon proposed.

  Jana shrugged, knowing what she should say—that her deception dictated that she must leave again. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him.

  Or was it that she couldn’t fully accept it herself? Did some tiny part of her cling to the hope that somehow, despite everything that had happened between them, everything that she’d done, their problems might work out?

  Yet could she really expect him to forgive her? Could any man? And did she have a right to ask for his forgiveness?

  “We still have some time left,” Jana said. “Our four weeks isn’t up.”

  “So there’s still hope?”

  “There’s always hope,” she said. But Jana didn’t know how well it would hold up in the face of reality.

  From the look on Brandon’s face, he shared her unspoken opinion. He walked to the door, then stopped and looked back.

  “There must have been something you liked about us, Jana,” he said, his voice almost a plea. “Something, surely…”

  A lump of emotion rose in her throat. “Good night, Brandon,” she whispered.

  He left.

  The commotion in the foyer proved worse at Aunt Rosa’s departure than during her arrival. Her mountain of luggage had nearly doubled due to all the shopping she’d done. Two servants carried piece after piece outside to be loaded into the waiting carriage, while other servants brought more from upstairs. Charles directed their work while Aunt Rosa’s maid fretted in the corner. Charlotte went outside to oversee the packing.

  Aunt Rosa stopped at the edge of the foyer. “Where did all this luggage come from? Charlotte!”

  “These are all yours, Aunt Rosa,” Brandon assured her.

  “Oh, dear,” Aunt Rosa said, latching on to Jana’s arm. “I’m afraid my maid has packed some of your things. Charlotte!”

  “No, really, it’s fine,” Jana told her. “Remember? You and I went shop—”

  “Charlotte!”

  “You and I shopped,” Jana said, trying again. “You bought gifts for—”

  “Charlotte! Where is that girl? There’s been a terrible mistake here. Charlotte!”

  Concerned now because Aunt Rosa seemed to be genuinely troubled, Jana cast a pleading look at Brandon. He touched his aunt’s shoulder gently.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “I’ll get Charlotte. Don’t worry, Aunt Rosa. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “Oh yes, well, thank you, dear,” she said, quieting as he headed out the front door. She looked up at Jana. “He’s such a wonderful boy.”

  Jana smiled. “That’s true.”

  “And so lucky to have found a fine wife like you, Hannah.”

  “That’s kind of you to say,” Jana told her, as a pang of guilt stabbed her stomach.

  “We were all so worried about him,” Aunt Rosa went on. “The trauma, you know.”

  “About his parents?” Jana asked, realizing suddenly that this was the first time since her arrival that she’d been alone with Aunt Rosa.

  The woman shuddered. “It was all so unseemly.”

  “The death of Brandon’s parents?”

  “A scandal, really.” Aunt Rosa pursed her lips together distastefully. “Of course, no one expected anything of Holly, really.”

  “Who’s Holly?”

  “Brandon’s mother. And in that regard, she didn’t disappoint. But after what happened in Europe…” Aunt Rosa’s eyes widened. “Charlotte!”

  “Charlotte’s coming. What happened in Europe?” Jana asked, struggling to keep her voice level.

  “Well, of course, none of us knew. Had we known… But to find out from an outsider.” Aunt Rosa leaned closer to Jana. “She presented herself to be a woman of breeding, but everyone of substance knew Leona Riley was an opportunist.”

  “Leona?” Jana’s heart rose in her throat. “Leona Albright?”

  Aunt Rosa shrugged as if she hadn’t heard the question. “In Europe, on her second marriage by then, so I understand. And there was Brandon. A child. Only ten years old.”

  Jana touched her hand to her forehead. “I—I don’t understand what you’re saying, Aunt Rosa.”

  “Some liberties simply should not be taken,” she replied. “Charlotte! Where is that girl?”

  “Brandon is getting her,” Jana said. “You were telling me something that happened with Brandon in Europe? With Leona?”

  “I was?” Aunt Rosa frowned. “Oh, yes. Of course. Well, my dear, it was a family situation and should have been dealt with as such. Leona had no business�
��”

  “All set.” Brandon’s voice boomed as he walked through the front door.

  Jana gasped. Her gaze flew to him. He stopped abruptly, reading her horrified expression.

  Good gracious, what was Aunt Rosa trying to tell her? A family scandal? Involving Brandon—and Leona Albright?

  Brandon turned to Aunt Rosa, ignoring Jana.

  “Everything’s ready,” he said, taking his aunt’s arm.

  Jana trailed behind, responding automatically to Aunt Rosa’s thanks. She watched from the doorway as Brandon helped the woman into the carriage, slammed the door and waved as they pulled away.

  Seeing him standing in the drive watching the carriage for so long, Jana realized there was a reason Brandon hadn’t gone to work these past two days, and it wasn’t because he wished to visit with his aunt.

  He didn’t want his aunt and Jana to be alone together.

  And when he’d walked into the house just now and seen the expression on Jana’s face, he knew that in those short minutes, Aunt Rosa had told her something Brandon didn’t want her to know.

  He seldom spoke of his family and had led Jana to believe the memories were too painful to speak of. Perhaps they were. But something more had happened.

  Why wouldn’t Brandon tell her?

  And why had she been such a poor wife that she’d never asked?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The sway of the carriage, the familiar route, certainty about what awaited him, soothed Brandon as he headed toward his office in the Bradbury Building. Like a workhorse returned to the field, the sameness of the situation comforted him.

  He’d been away from the office for two days, returning now midmorning on the third. His instructions to his secretary had been heeded. No interruptions. No matter what. Mr. Perkins was a stickler for obeying directives. Two days gone, and Brandon was anxious to return, catch up on things, head off any problems, though he couldn’t imagine that anything catastrophic could have happened during his short absence.