by Susan Fox
Instead, submitting to the tour seemed to have signaled to him some measure of her consent. Allison shook her head. “Mr. Sumner—please understand. As flattering as your proposal is, I can’t possibly marry you.”
The hard gaze he leveled on her made her uneasy. “Not good enough, huh?”
It took her a moment to recover from the blunt question. And a moment more to register the flash of emotion behind the words.
“Good enough has nothing to do with my refusal, Mr. Sumner. We don’t know each other,” she emphasized with gentle candor.
“And if we knew each other?”
The question unsettled her and Allison fought to suppress her sudden, secret reaction to the idea as she tried to give him a calm answer.
“We could know each other well and still not have the kind of love a marriage requires. I can’t marry a man I’m not in love with. And I don’t think you’d truly be happy marrying a woman you aren’t in love with, either.”
“Love…” The cynical gleam in his gaze chided her. “Love’s nothing more than a rush of lust and hormones that fools mistake for sentiment. Soon as the lust is satisfied, the hormones settle. That’s when those same fools think they’ve fallen out of love.” His faint emphasis mocked the word.
Allison was taken aback. “You don’t believe in love?”
The level look he gave her somehow made her sad. “Love’s right up there with Santa and the Easter Bunny, Miz Lancaster. Kid myths, but myths all the same,” he said, then went on somberly. “I wasn’t born to wealth and I’m not college educated, but I’m steady, reliable and hardworking. I’ll be a faithful, sober husband, a good father to my kids and a good provider to a faithful wife.”
Allison glanced away, caught off guard by the intensity of his declaration, but struck by the absolute sincerity of it. Love was a myth to him, yet the things he wanted couldn’t be achieved without it.
Thoughts of her aunt Petula’s loveless marriage to Charles filled her mind. Uncle Charles had never been faithful to Aunt Pet and had never provided anything for Pet that hadn’t originally come from her large inheritance. Because Charles had never loved her aunt, he’d never been interested in having children with her. Because he’d never loved her, their home was anything but warm and loving.
Allison’s memories of her own parents, killed when she was only nine, were of two people completely in love who doted on each other and on the child their love had created. Allison hungered for that kind of love, that kind of marriage.
The alternative, represented by Charles and Petula’s coldly formal relationship, was unacceptable. No matter how wonderful Blue’s pledge sounded now, how long would it take for the loveless union he wanted to go wrong?
Allison made herself look directly at Blue as she spoke. “Those are honorable goals, Mr. Sumner. I think you must be quite a good man to have them.” She hesitated, clenching her handbag in front of her to keep her hands from fluttering as wildly as her insides were fluttering. “But I can’t marry a man who doesn’t value love.”
Blue didn’t blink, didn’t seem to even take a breath before he drawled, “Then your answer is no.”
Allison somehow maintained eye contact with the burning probe of his gaze. “My answer is no.”
Blue glanced down briefly, his eyes hidden by the brim of the Stetson he’d worn during their tour of the house. At just the moment Allison felt a strange tug of sympathy, the black hat brim lifted to reveal the determination in his gaze.
His low, “Then I’ll have to find a way to change your mind,” came out in a raspy drawl that sent a flood of heat through her. The way he was looking at her now—as if he were about to grab her up and carry her off to a cave somewhere—made his declaration as much a threat as a promise.
A confusing mix of dismay and excitement sent color into her cheeks and a flush over her skin. Allison couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. The peculiar attraction she’d felt toward Blue in the past suddenly escalated to something breathlessly sensual and compelling. The notion that he meant to change her mind about marrying him was dizzying.
But the fact that he might somehow be successful terrified her. Surely she could never be seduced into marrying a stranger who didn’t believe in love. But as she stood there frozen, unable to look away from Blue Sumner’s ruggedly handsome face, she realized she might be in danger of doing just that.
Somehow, she regained her composure. Her stiff, “Good afternoon, Mr. Sumner,” and her abrupt turn and stilted exit from the huge kitchen did nothing to break the sensual pull between them. Though she was aware that Blue’s booted stride echoed hers down the long hall to the entry and the front door, she managed to maintain a dignified pace.
She didn’t breathe normally until she was safely out the door and was halfway down the graveled driveway to where she’d left her car.
CHAPTER TWO
ALLISON’S nerves were still jittery by the time she returned to town. To her surprise, Uncle Charles had come home early from the bank, and he was waiting in the formal living room with Aunt Petula when she came in.
“Hello, dear,” Aunt Pet called as Allison walked into the tastefully appointed room. Petula was sitting on one of the three white sofas that were grouped around the low crystal coffee table. Charles stood near the liquor cabinet, his face expectant. A bottle of champagne rested in a silver bucket of shaped ice on a sofa table.
Allison’s soft, “Hello all,” was cautious as she stopped at the sofa and rested a hand on its back. She saw at a glance that Aunt Pet’s expression was tense. Charles was almost never home in the middle of a banking day. The bucket of champagne and the warm look Charles was giving her combined to send a tiny arrow of alarm through her.
Charles didn’t hesitate. “We trust you and Mr. Sumner have set the date.”
Allison stared a moment as a feeling of unreality slipped over her. Charles was clearly pleased and excited. A swift glance at Aunt Pet caught Pet’s nervous smile. All at once she realized that both of them must have expected her to accept Blue Sumner’s astonishing marriage proposal.
Though Charles had already made it clear, in spite of her objections, that he was strongly in favor of her accepting Blue’s proposal, until that moment she hadn’t realized how eager he was for a marriage—and how certain he was that she’d accept. Which was amazing because she and Blue Sumner were complete strangers with almost nothing in common!
She answered hesitantly, “Well…no, Uncle.”
“But you went out and spoke to him, saw the house,” Charles prompted cheerily. “I’m certain he’ll allow you to decorate it as you like. Most men are inept at that sort of thing,” he went on, oblivious to Allison’s growing look of alarm. “Sumner might have a lot of rough edges, but he’s filthy rich now, and I doubt there’s anything material he would deny you, as long as you’re willing to make him a proper wife.”
Allison quickly said, “I’ve rejected Mr. Sumner’s proposal, Uncle.”
Charles hesitated in the process of opening the champagne bottle to glance over at her, his wide smile faltering. “What was that?”
The silence stretched. Suddenly she was hesitant to repeat the words. Her mouth went dry. “I’ve rejected Mr. Sumner’s proposal. I was as diplomatic as possible,” she assured him when she saw the pleasantness drain from his face. “I’m certain he sees, as do I, that it would be better for him to wait and marry someone he’s in love with.”
Charles eased the bottle back down into the ice. His face flushed and his mouth flattened to a harsh line. He glared over at Petula, who was staring down at her clasped hands.
“I thought I made it clear to both of you—” his angry glance included Allison “—how important this marriage is. I’d hoped to avoid reminding either of you of the reason Chaney Bank is on the verge of insolvency, but I can see now that I should have been more direct.”
A sick feeling swept Allison. The bank was struggling and Charles blamed her. Her college friend, John Blake, had worked at th
e bank until three weeks ago. Because he’d been so bright and capable, Charles had rapidly advanced him. Later, when an internal audit showed a huge amount of money missing from the accounts, Charles had suspected John right away.
He claimed that her reluctance to believe John capable of embezzlement had made him look elsewhere for a culprit, which resulted in the loss of an even greater sum. Days later, John Blake abruptly quit his job and left town. It was shortly after that when Charles realized not only the extent of the embezzlement, but that her friend was undoubtedly the thief.
“I never would have hired John Blake were it not for my affection for you, Allison, and my regard for your wishes,” he said, his cultured voice arrogantly smooth, though he was clearly very angry. “Now, I think you should feel obligated to honor mine.”
Allison felt as if a subtle trap were closing on her. She rallied to evade it. “Have you notified the authorities?” She still couldn’t believe that John was a thief, and Charles’s certainty in the matter—as well as his method of dealing with the theft—continued to distress her.
“I explained why I wanted to handle the situation discreetly,” he snapped. “I can’t help that the private investigators I’ve hired haven’t been able to turn up anything.”
“Surely the accounts were federally insured against the loss,” she reasoned. “Besides, federal authorities have more resources—”
“That may be,” he said, cutting in irritably, his voice rising, “but the bank can hardly afford to have it become common knowledge that one of our own employees embezzled enough money to leave the bank insolvent.”
Charles’s face was mottled and he was glaring almost hatefully at her. Allison was shocked.
“Blue Sumner can give this bank the kind of business it needs to stay on its feet,” he declared. “You, my dear, are the woman he has chosen to marry. Once he’s a member of the family, I’m certain he’ll be more open to not only transferring his accounts to us, but he’ll naturally turn to me to be his financial advisor.”
Allison saw a small chance to avoid her part in Charles’s plan and dared to ask, “Has he guaranteed that he will transfer his accounts and have you advise him?” On one hand, it would be foolish for Charles to marry her off to a rich stranger in order to attract his business, with no guarantee that he’d do so. On another, marrying her off to Blue Sumner to get his business and have access to his money was tantamount to selling her.
Charles pointed at her as if he were scolding a naughty child. “You do your part and accept his proposal. Leave the business end of it to me.”
Allison felt dizzy. Charles’s scheme to save the bank was unbelievable. Unbelievable and medieval and ridiculous.
Charles’s harsh, “You talk to her, Petula,” tightened the knot of dread in her middle. “Maybe you can make her see what an ingrate she’s become. I’m going back to the bank.”
Neither Allison nor Petula spoke as Charles stalked through the house and slammed out the front door. Allison released a shaky breath and looked over at her Aunt Petula.
Petula Lancaster Wallace was still a beautiful woman. Though well into her fifties, her hair was still blond, her fair skin still taut and the only wrinkles she had of note were faint ones at the corners of her eyes and around her lovely mouth.
But Aunt Petula seemed to have aged a good ten years during Charles’s brief tirade.
Allison stepped forward and came around the edge of the sofa to sit down opposite Petula, the crystal table between them. The silence in the wake of Charles’s temper was ominous. Petula’s delicate fingers were shaking and she wouldn’t meet Allison’s gaze.
Allison felt her heart swelling. Petula had taken her in after her parents had been killed. No one else in their far-flung family had seemed to want her, but Aunt Pet had.
Petula’s motivation to take her in had far surpassed her sense of duty to raise her younger brother’s only child. Petula had genuinely loved her and wanted her, and somehow she’d managed to soften the pain of the incredible loss Allison had suffered and brighten the life of a grief-stricken child.
Not surprisingly, Allison dearly loved her aunt, and Petula’s happiness and well-being were even more important to her than her own.
And because it was suddenly all coming home to Allison that the bank was much worse off than she’d thought and that Aunt Pet seemed even more upset in her own way than Charles had been, Allison couldn’t help feeling a little desperate. Finally she spoke.
“Is the bank truly so bad off that I might need to…” Her voice drifted off. Somehow she’d not been able to say the words “marry Mr. Sumner.” “Forgive me, Auntie, but I’m…stunned.” Her soft words seemed to increase Pet’s distress.
Petula’s blue gaze lifted to hers and welled tragically. Before she could speak, Allison quickly stood and rounded the table to sit with her aunt and take her small, beringed fingers in hers.
“Aunt Pet?”
Petula squeezed her eyes shut and a tear slipped down her pale cheek. Her choked, “I’m afraid the bank is quite bad off,” was the prelude to more tears.
Stricken by her aunt’s distress, Allison hugged Petula and felt tears sting her own eyes. Aunt Pet rarely cried. She was always pleasant and mild-mannered, and considered strong emotional displays a breach of etiquette.
Pet returned her hug almost fiercely. When she managed to get control of herself, she leaned back to lift a trembling hand to Allison’s cheek.
“Oh, my sweet girl, the last thing I want is for you to marry some Neanderthal, whose only claim to respectability is that he’s savvy enough to use his new fortune to buy it.” Her fragile features stiffened and her pale cheeks flushed with fresh spirit. “I don’t care if the bank closes and Charles loses everything. There must be some other solution than to condemn you to a loveless marriage to a cowboy.”
Secretly Allison was heartsick. In spite of Pet’s declaration, she was suddenly terrified that marriage to Blue Sumner would turn out to be the only solution to the bank’s problems. Even worse, she was afraid that marrying Blue Sumner would turn out to be no solution at all.
Two days later, Allison found herself back at the Sumner Ranch in the late afternoon. Her aunt was now bedridden with nerves. Dr. Evans had been out to see her, but other than assuring them that Pet would be all right and that she’d probably be up and around soon, there’d been no substantial change in her condition.
The situation at the bank was little better. Charles hadn’t missed an opportunity to pressure her, and her own secret feelings of guilt about John Blake had worn her down. Finally she agreed to go to the Sumner Ranch to speak again with Blue.
Charles had assured her that he’d already phoned Blue and had, he claimed, smoothed things over. Allison couldn’t imagine that it had been that simple. If Blue had any pride at all, giving a woman a second opportunity to turn down his marriage proposal would be anathema to him.
Allison’s own pride was choking her. It was bad enough that she was virtually being sold. It was even worse to have to humble herself and drive out to the ranch to grovel before a man who might delight in turning the tables and rejecting her.
Two days ago, she would have rejoiced at the notion that Blue would lose interest in marrying her. But after two days of Aunt Pet’s depression and distress, Allison realized she was willing to do anything to help her aunt recover.
For all Pet’s talk of wanting to spare her an arranged marriage, Allison was beginning to believe it was impossible to save the bank any other way. Pet had been born to wealth and had lived an upper-class lifestyle. Allison knew well the terror of the rich when it came to thoughts of losing their fortune.
And Pet’s fear of public scandal was almost pathological. If the bank failed, Charles would naturally be considered responsible. His judgment would be suspect because of his failure to notify the proper authorities in a timely manner, and therefore his financial reputation would be sullied. Allison had no idea how it would all impact their personal fina
nces, but the chance that it might prove disastrous was enough to make her take this desperate step.
Aunt Pet had loved her and given her a good home with all the financial advantages a child could possibly have. Allison would never be able to repay her Aunt’s generosity but, as Charles had so brutally pointed out, marrying Blue was her one grand opportunity to do so.
And so she walked up the sidewalk to the veranda that surrounded the new mansion. Today was Sunday, so there were no workers around. Though she was naturally apprehensive about being alone with Blue, in many ways it was a blessing. No one would be around to witness the scene if he’d changed his mind about giving her another chance.
And, if she was truly going to marry him, she’d be alone with him often. She might as well begin to adjust to him now, however much the notion panicked her.
The large double doors were closed, their oval etched glass panels providing a framed view of the huge empty entry hall beyond. Allison walked up to the door, then caught sight of the doorbell on the right and put out a hand to press the button. She listened nervously to the chimes as they sounded a series of deep-pitched tones.
Blue had watched Allison approach the house from the shelf-lined front room of the mansion, which would eventually be the den. He’d glimpsed the apprehension on her lovely face when she’d stepped out of her car. He’d seen the resolute squaring of her narrow shoulders as she’d started up the walk, then the determined concealment of her feelings when she’d blanked her expression.
His pride hadn’t suffered at all when she’d refused to marry him the other day, but it was taking a beating now. Charles Wallace’s spineless groveling on the phone had turned his stomach, but the sense he had that Wallace had bullied Ms. Allison into changing her mind shamed him a little.
Though Blue had never wanted her to have any real choice about marrying him, the actual follow-through of his plan to get her made him feel as if he’d abused her somehow. Demeaned wasn’t a word in his normal vocabulary, but he felt like maybe he’d managed to demean them both. Particularly since she’d seemed to set a lot of store by love, an emotion that by habit and necessity, he’d learned to ignore.
