And in the end, after thinking about it for a while, he decided not to call her.
But Elizabeth took matters in her own hands a month later when she came to New York to visit her brother. She looked him up in the phone book and called him. She called him on a Saturday, and he was surprised to hear her voice. He had been on his way out to play squash with friends from the office.
Is it a bad time? She sounded, as always, very mature, and he smiled as he looked out the window and juggled his racket.
Not at all. How've you been?
Fine. Vassar is a little better this term. She didn't tell him she'd been going out with one of her professors. But boys her own age always bored her. I was wondering if you wanted to go to the theater tonight. We have a spare ticket.
Are you here with your parents?
No. I'm staying with my brother and his wife. We're going to see Summer and Smoke at the Music Box Theater. Have you seen it?
No, he smiled, but I'd like to. What the hell, how dangerous could it be with her brother there? He didn't trust himself with her. He didn't want to get involved with someone quits so intent on her future. He still remembered her answer when he asked her what she was looking for in life, and she had answered, someone important.
We're having dinner at Chambord before the theater. Why don't you meet us there? Say, at six?
Fine. I'll meet you there. And thank you, Elizabeth. He wasn't sure if he should apologize for not calling her, but decided it was best not to say it. And she certainly made things easy for him. The best restaurant, the best show, and an introduction to her illustrious brother, Ian Barclay.
Spencer arrived at the restaurant precisely on time, and recognized her instantly, in a well-cut black evening suit and a small black velvet hat perched atop a very appealing new hairdo. She seemed to take a lot of care about how she looked, and he liked that about her. She was good-looking and chic, and she always made an impression. For a girl not yet twenty, she had a lot of style, and so did her brother Ian. Spencer found him to be an intelligent man, although a little forceful about his political ideas. But in spite of that, Spencer liked him. His wife was a very attractive English girl he had met while flying bombing raids with the RAF. She was the daughter of Lord Wingham, and Elizabeth made sure that Spencer knew it. Her life was filled with important names and illustrious people with powerful occupations. In an odd way, it made him feel powerful just being with her, as though some of it might rub off. They were all so damn sure of who they were, and where they were going, and it was easy to see why it all mattered to her so much. Ian and Sarah talked about spending Christmas at St. Moritz, and they had just been to Venice that summer. They had gone to Rome afterward, and had had a private audience with Pope Pius, because he knew her father. She had the enormous ease of the aristocracy, and seemed to expect that everyone knew the same people she did.
They enjoyed the play, and Spencer invited them to the Stork Club afterward, and they all danced and talked and laughed, and after that they went back to the Barclays' apartment on Sutton Place. They had no children yet, and Sarah was far more interested in her horses. She talked about jumpers and hunters, and they invited him to ride with them sometime. It was all very pleasant, and this time when Spencer told Elizabeth he'd call her, he meant it. He felt he owed her something after the pleasant evening he had spent, which was precisely what she had intended.
He called her two weeks afterward, and he would have called her sooner, he explained, except that he'd been buried in work at the office. But she didn't scold him for not calling. They made a date for the following weekend. She stayed at her brother's again, and Spencer took her to dinner and dancing at the Stork Club. He wasn't intent on impressing her, but Elizabeth wasn't the kind of girl one could take anywhere except the very best places. He told her about the cases he'd been working on, mostly litigation that involved business or taxes. It was interesting work, and she made intelligent comments. And that night, when he took her home, they stood outside her brother's apartment, and he kissed her.
I had a lovely time, she said quietly, but there was something warm in her eyes just for him that didn't go unnoticed.
So did I. And he meant it. She was good company, and she looked smashing in a silver dress her sister-in-law had brought her from Paris.
What are you doing next weekend?
I have exams. She laughed. Stupid, isn't it? It plays havoc with my social life. They both laughed and he suggested she come back to New York the following weekend.
She did, and they went out again, and this time the kisses were a little more fervent. Her brother and sister-in-law were away for the weekend that time, at a hunt in New Jersey, and she invited Spencer in for drinks at the end of the evening. They sat on the couch for a long time, kissing and talking. And afterward he felt guilty about it. She was too young for him to be toying with her, and he couldn't imagine that it would lead anywhere. Her world was more than a little beyond him. He wasn't in love with her, but he was attracted to her physically, and he knew that he liked her. He liked the sense of power that flowed so freely in her world, yet he was also aware of a certain lack of warmth. Everything was very calculated and cold. But as a tourist in that world, he had to admit that it was amusing.
Elizabeth had told him she was going home for Thanksgiving with her parents, to San Francisco. But he promised to call her when she got back. And when he did, she invited him to Palm Beach for Christmas.
Wouldn't that be a little awkward, with your parents? He sounded startled, but she only laughed at him.
Don't be silly, Spencer. They like you.
I really ought to stay here. Christmas is a little rough on my parents now. And Barbara had told them she wasn't bringing the children in from Boston. She was involved in a serious romance, and she wanted them with her. He knew his parents were going to be very lonely, and Christmas always reminded them of the son they had lost more than the one they hadn't. All of that raced through his mind, as he mulled over her unexpected invitation.
Why don't you come down later then? I'll be there until after New Year's. You can stay at the house, we have dozens of guest rooms. A pronouncement he suspected accurately was no exaggeration.
I'll see if I can get the time off, and I'll call you. He called her before she left for Florida, and much to his own surprise, he accepted. He still wasn't sure what he was doing with her, but whatever it was, it was not unpleasant.
Christmas passed uneventfully for him, and two days afterward, he began a week's holiday from work, and flew to Palm Beach to stay with the Barclays. They were gracious and kind, and the house seemed to be filled with guests like him, and Elizabeth's elder brother, Gregory, was there. He worked for the Treasury, and was a typically conservative banker. He was married, but his wife wasn't there, and no one seemed anxious to discuss it, and Spencer didn't pry. He was too busy with Elizabeth to care. They went to every party in town, and he decided he had never seen so many diamonds. Elizabeth herself wore a different evening gown every night, and a pretty little tiara her parents had given her the year before when she made her debut.
Well, she asked him as they lay on the beach one day, are you having fun?
He laughed at the question. She was always direct with him, but he had decided he liked it. There was no playing around with her, no beating around the bush, no asking her what she really meant by that, she always told him. Of course I am. What do you think? This is heaven. I may never go back to work, or New York.
Good. Then I'll quit school, and we can run away to Cuba. They had flown over once for a night of dancing and gambling at the casino. It had been an incredible week, and Spencer had to admit that he loved it. It was an easy life, filled with civilized people with interesting things to say and beautiful women covered with diamonds. It would be too easy to get used to it, but to what purpose? It was her life, not his. But at least for a little while, it was amusing.
Are you liking school any better now? He rolled over on one el
bow to look at her. She looked splendid in a red bathing suit, and a dark tan that set off her auburn hair and dark eyes. She was a very pretty girl, and he liked her.
Not much. I still feel as though I'm wasting time there.
I can see why. He glanced at the butler approaching with lemonade and rum punches on a silver tray and turned to look at her again. It's awfully hard to go from this to school, and remember why you wanted to go there in the first place.
To tell you the truth, she grinned happily, I didn't.
Well, you can't be a lawyer if you don't go to college. He smiled and helped himself to the lemonade as she sipped a rum punch and smiled at him beneath the brim of her sun hat.
I guess I won't be a lawyer then. She sounded as though she was teasing and he laughed at her.
Then what'll you do instead, Miss Barclay? Run for president?
Maybe I'll just marry one.
He looked at her half seriously. It would suit you.
Would you like to run for president one day, Mr. Hill? He felt faintly uncomfortable at the gist of the conversation but he only smiled at her as he shook his head and played with the lemonade. She was a strong girl, and they were powerful people. You couldn't play with them for long. And in a way, Spencer was almost afraid to. Inside, beneath the cool air he put on for her, he was a gentle soul, and he cared about other things. Things the Barclays never even dreamed of.
Being president has never been one of my ambitions.
Senator, then. You'd be marvelous in public service.
What makes you think so?
You like people, you work hard, you're honest and direct and you're bright. She smiled again. And you know the right people. He wasn't sure he liked what she was saying, and he fell silent as he looked out at the ocean. He wondered if he had gone too far with her. Maybe coming to Palm Beach had been a mistake, but it was too late to change that. He was going back to New York in two days, and maybe after that he wouldn't see her for a while. She was watching him as he ran it all through his head, and she laughed. Don't look so nervous, Spencer. I'm not going to attack you. I was just telling you what I thought.
You have a disquieting way of doing that sometimes, Elizabeth. I get the feeling occasionally that you always get what you want. I mean always. And he didn't want it to be him. At least not for the moment. Not until he felt more for her than he did just then. And he wasn't sure he ever would. They were good friends. But they were very different.
What's wrong with getting what you want?
Nothing, as long as everyone agrees it's what they want too. He said it quietly and she regarded him with probing eyes.
And is it what everyone wants? She said the words so pointedly that he almost trembled.
Why don't we go for a swim? He didn't want to answer her. He wasn't ready to say what she wanted to hear, and he didn't know if he ever would be. He still cherished dreams of a woman who needed him, who was gentle and kind and warm and loving. And Elizabeth was some of those things, but not many. She was other things instead. Other things that he had not yet made his peace with.
You didn't answer my question. She looked up at him as he stood beside her, and he knew there was no running away from her. There was nothing to do but tell her the truth. Elizabeth demanded nothing less of anyone, and certainly not of Spencer.
I don't know yet.
She nodded, as though thinking it over, and then looked into his eyes again. I think we'd be a good team, you and I. We have the strength and the brains to do some interesting things together. She made it sound like a business deal and it depressed him.
Like what? Run a corporation?
Maybe. Or politics. Or just be like Ian and Sarah.
With their horses and their friends, and their hunts and their clubs, and her father's castle. Elizabeth, he sat down again and looked at her, I'm not like them. I'm different. I want other things.
Like what? She seemed puzzled.
Like children. You never even think of that, do you? But she looked startled when he said the words. Children had never been important to her.
We could have them too, like diamonds or racehorses or investments. She made them sound like a possession to put in the back of her closet. But there are other more important things in life.
Like what? he said again, amazed by the way she saw things. What's more important than that?
Don't be ridiculous, Spencer. Accomplishment, achievement, making a place for oneself.
Like your father? It was a veiled criticism, but she didn't hear it.
That's right. You could be in his shoes one day, if you wanted to.
The trouble is, he looked at her ruefully, I'm not sure I want to. Can you understand that?
Yes, she nodded slowly at him, I think you're afraid to. I think you're afraid to be confused with your brother again. But you're not him, Spencer, you're you, and there's a lot waiting for you out there, if you'll just go and get it. But he still wasn't sure that he would ever care enough to make it worth the trouble. But on the other hand, he couldn't imagine working on tax cases for the rest of his life at Anderson, Vincent, and Sawbrook. Just what was he going to do when he grew up? He still hadn't made his mind up about the future.
I want to make the right decisions.
So do I. But I think I see more than you do.
What makes you so sure? You're twenty years old. You don't know a damn thing about life yet. He was suddenly angry. In a veiled way, she was proposing to him, and she sounded as though she was trying to talk him into buying a piece of property, like a house or a car or an object. And he wanted to be the one to ask her, if that was what he decided. But he hadn't, and he didn't think he ever would. He didn't love her.
I know more about life than you think. I know where I'm going at least, which is more than you do.
Maybe you're right. He stood up again and looked out at the ocean. I'm going for a swim. He walked into the ocean then and was gone for half an hour, and she didn't press him again, but what she had said had shaken him. After that, he was careful not to say anything that could be misinterpreted. But before he left, she came to his room, and faced him again. And there was no avoiding her eyes this time. Spencer watched her, feeling hunted.
I just want you to know that I love you.
Elizabeth, don't ' please ' It hurt him not to be able to tell her he loved her too. Don't do this.
Why not? And I meant what I said on the beach the other day. I think we could do great things together.
He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. I'm the one who's supposed to propose, kid, and when I do, you'll know it.
Will I? Her eyes taunted him as he approached her.
Count on it. He pulled her close to him then, and kissed her. She was so damn forceful that it made him want to seduce her just to show her who was boss, who was in control, and if he had any say about it, it wasn't going to be Elizabeth Barclay. But his plans went awry again. Being with her was like playing with fire, and he was never sure afterward who had seduced whom, all he knew was that they had made love, and he liked it. Her body filled him with hunger and passion, and there was an irresistible desire to control her, in bed if nowhere else. She was an interesting lover, and he also knew without discussing it with her, that she wasn't a virgin.
She drove him to the airport when he left, and he looked at her for a long time, not sure what to do. He needed time to think, and he was anxious to get back to New York now.
I'll be back at school next week.
He kissed her softly and wanted to make love to her again, annoyed at himself for being in her power even for a moment. In more ways than he knew, she was stronger than he was.
I'll call you.
He waved as he got on the plane, and he saw her standing there as they taxied down the runway, in her sundress and her big hat, her eyes searching him out even as they lifted into the air. He felt as though he would never get away from her now. He was no longer sure if he wanted to. Maybe she was right.
Maybe she could help him find what he wanted. He wasn't sure of anything anymore, and the worst of it was that as they landed in the snows of New York, he knew that he missed her.
Christmas on the ranch was depressing that year. It was their first Christmas since her father had died, and all the joy seemed to have gone out of their lives. Becky spent the day with them with her children, and Tom turned up in time for dinner, reeking of booze, and openly eyeing Crystal. When he left again, Becky burst into tears and accused her of flirting with him, and Crystal was horrified. She couldn't even tell her how much she disliked him.
The family went to church together the next day, and her mother cried bitterly, thinking of the husband she had lost, and how her life had changed since then. The only joy for Crystal was the solace she always derived from singing with the congregation. They went home after that, and Crystal quietly silpped away to bring gifts to Boyd and Hiroko. Little Jane was eight months old by then and crawling all over their living room, gurgling happily and pulling herself up on Crystal's knees as they watched her. They had a tiny tree, and Crystal gave them her gifts. She had made a sweater for Hiroko, her first attempt, and a scarf for Boyd, and she had bought a doll for Jane, which she happily chewed on. For Crystal, Christmas was happier here. It was a house filled with love and warm hearts, unlike the bleak silence in her own house. Becky knew that Tom was cheating on her, and she had heard the rumors about Ginny Webster, but she seemed intent on blaming Crystal for everything, as though Crystal were to blame for it all. She insisted frequently that her sister was making eyes at her husband, and Olivia had accused her more than once of encouraging him, which brought tears to Crystal's eyes. She had done nothing to deserve their accusations, but she seemed helpless against them.
Star (1989) Page 11
