by Peggy Gaddis
Alison looked down at the tray and then back at Judy and laughed, her heart lighter than it had been in a long, long time.
“Strangely enough, I find I’m practically famished.” She laughed. “And we wouldn’t want to upset Mam’ Chloe, would we?”
“It’s not advisable! She can be a regular terror when she gets upset. See you later, Alison. And I’m so very glad you’re staying,” Judy told her. “I can say goodbye to the others easily, but I’d hate to have to say goodbye to you. And, of course, I’ll miss Roger, too. He’s been very nice.”
“He likes you,” Alison said quietly.
A faint tinge of color touched Judy’s cheek, and she said lightly, “Well, that’s nice. I like him, too.”
With her hand on the doorknob, Judy hesitated a moment, and then she asked, “Did you know he’s not really pursuing Marise? He’s really a sort of bodyguard hired by her trust company and guardian to see she doesn’t get kidnapped and held for ransom.”
Startled, Alison said, “Why, yes, I’ve known that for a long time. But how did you find it out?”
“He told me,” Judy answered. “I don’t know why, but he just came out with it and said I was to keep it confidential. And I have until this moment. But since you aren’t going away with her and her gang, I let it slip. She doesn’t know, does she?”
“Heavenly days, no! I’d hate to think of the towering rage she would be in if she ever discovered the truth. She thinks he’s madly in love with her, and I think she might even consider marrying him one of these days if she’s bored enough. A very brief marriage, of course.”
Judy’s brows went up.
“He’s much too nice for such a fate as that,” she protested, and added, “I have to run along now. But I’ll see you downstairs after the others have gone. We’ll celebrate! I’ll call Sam and ask him to trot along, too.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Alison said happily.
She drew a long breath when the door had closed behind Judy and sat for a moment deep in the happy thought of a future that seemed to be opening out for her in ways she had scarcely dared to dream could ever come to be.
The cars were in the drive an hour later, luggage being loaded aboard following Marise’s carping orders. Tony and Mimi were already in the sedan, with Jerry dozing in the rear.
Roger came swiftly down the stairs and discovered Judy, who was just emerging from the drawing room.
“Well, hello, there,” he greeted her, his voice quite curt, his eyes faintly hostile. “I’ve already congratulated Bix and offered to fight him a duel for your hand. But I know it wouldn’t do me any good. So now all that’s left for me is to offer you my sincere best wishes, even if you are a very lovely liar.”
Judy blinked at him, astonished and resentful.
“How did I lie to you?” she protested hotly.
“By letting me believe you were unattached and fancy-free; how else? What did you want? Did you want me to go on making a fool of myself by being in love with you and hoping that by some miracle you might someday discover that you liked having me around enough to make it a permanent thing?”
“I tried to tell you it was no use.”
“Sure, sure, sure.” His tone threw that back in her face. “But you also told me there was no one else who had a prior claim.”
“There wasn’t—not then.” She was flushed and bright-eyed but could not quite meet his eyes.
“Mean to tell me that all this was so sudden; that you and Bix just looked at each other, and whoosh! That was that!” His tone was mocking, but the look in his eyes was not.
Judy said softly, “I’m terribly sorry, Roger. I didn’t mean to mislead you.”
“You did a beautiful job of it, just the same.”
She looked up at him, very serious, apologetic, anxious to make him understand.
“I’ve been in love with Bix just about all my life,” she told him earnestly, with a little girl’s honesty that he found oddly convincing. “But I had given up hope that he would love me, especially after Marise came and he seemed so taken with her. That was why I told you I wasn’t engaged. I wasn’t then. And I didn’t have much hope I would be, because I knew if it couldn’t be Bix, it wouldn’t be anybody. And I did try to tell you. Only you didn’t seem to want to listen or to believe me.”
He nodded, and his eyes on her flushed, bright-eyed face were tender.
“I know. I’m the world’s prize fool,” he admitted wryly. “I should have known that a girl like you would have been taken long before I came on the scene. But then that’s the way of prize fools. We just keep on hoping and hoping, until we get kicked in the teeth by facts we can no longer ignore.”
From the verandah, Marise called sharply, shrewishly, “Come on, Roger. It’s late.”
Roger’s mouth twisted, and he said half under his breath, “My employer’s voice!”
“If you don’t like looking after her, Roger, why don’t you quit?”
His brows went up slightly, and his smile was bitter and thin.
“Because I told you I was a fool, remember?” he said mockingly.
And then, so unexpectedly that she had no inkling of his intention in time to avoid it, he bent and kissed her firmly. The next moment he strode out of the house, and, standing there, she heard the sound of the car door slam.
A few minutes later Bix came into the house, looking relieved and happier than Judy had seen him since he had held her in his arms and asked her to marry him. He grinned at her, dusting his palms together as though removing the residue of an arduous task.
“And so we speed the parting guests,” he announced happily. “And I’m not even going to scold you for letting Roger kiss you goodbye.”
Her eyes flew wide as, startled, she demanded, “How did you know that he did?”
“Oh, a little bird told me,” he teased her. “You have the look of a girl who has just been kissed, and he came out looking like the cat that has just licked the cream off the family’s morning milk. So I just put two and two together.”
He drew her close and said firmly, “Only it’s not to become a habit, you hear? Letting other men kiss you, I mean.”
She gave herself to his embrace and said joyously, “You won’t ever have to worry about that, darling. I promise.”
He kissed her, sighed happily, looked about the old house and said softly, “Isn’t it quiet and peaceful?”
She looked up at him anxiously.
“Too quiet? Too peaceful?” she asked.
“Just quiet and peaceful enough, the way Oakhill should be; and the way it’s going to be from now on,” he answered happily.
Chapter Twelve
It was late that afternoon when Sam came up the drive from his cottage and found Alison waiting for him on the wide, colonnaded verandah. She was watching for him eagerly, but one look at his face told her that his news was not good even before he spoke.
“I’m sorry as the dickens, Alison,” he told her. “Andy’s mother has decided to spend the summer with her daughter in New England and is leaving almost immediately. She was so sorry she did not know that you were available, but there’s a brand-new grandchild whom she is naturally very anxious to see.”
Alison managed a smile and said quickly, “Well, of course. Anybody could understand that.”
Sam went on, his eyes holding hers, “I’m very sorry I talked you into staying on, Alison.”
Her head went up.
“I’m not, Sam,” she told him swiftly. “I’m so glad that you helped me find the courage I should have dredged up for myself a long time ago.”
“There’s still time for you to join Marise and the others if you want to,” he pointed out.
She shook her head. “There’s nothing I want less, but thanks a lot. Judy said I could stay on here for a while. Wasn’t that kind of her?”
“For my part, I wish you’d stay on here forever.” Sam spoke so quickly that his words seemed to startle him almost as much as they did Aliso
n, whose color deepened, though her eyes still met his steadily.
“So I could be a burden on the Ramseys and the Bullards instead of on Marise?” She shook her head. “At least I earned my way with Marise, and I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do here to justify my existence. However, I’ll try. And maybe eventually somebody else might feel the need of a companion. I could go back to New York and find something, I’m sure.”
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find something here for you,” Sam told her. “That is, if you don’t find living down here too dull to appeal to you after all the excitement and entertainment you’re accustomed to.”
Alison laughed and looked out over the rolling sweep of lawn, dotted by its ancient trees; the long, curving drive with its border of blossoming azaleas. The whole lovely, peaceful scene made her breathe deeply with a warm appreciation of all she could see.
“How could living possibly be dull amid all this beauty and peace and quiet?” she wondered aloud.
Sam’s grin indicated his relief at her words.
“I’m so glad you feel that way,” he admitted. “I was a bit uneasy this morning after I realized that I had talked you into a revolt.”
“Which was long overdue. I’m very grateful to you, because I probably would never have had the courage to do it if you hadn’t.”
“Oh, yes, you would,” Sam protested, a warmth in his eyes that made her heart jerk like a puppet on a string. “You have an enormous amount of courage, along with a lot of other fine qualities.”
There was a mist in her eyes and her lips were tremulous as she said shakily, “You’re very kind. And I don’t seem to be geared to kindness. It sort of makes me come apart at the seams! But thank you very much.”
“For promising you something I couldn’t deliver?” Sam asked, touched by her emotion but sensing that she did not want him to mention or even notice it.
“For being kind enough to want to promise me something, whether you could deliver it or not,” Alison insisted, and now she had herself under better control. “Maybe Mrs. Abbott wouldn’t have liked me, anyway.”
“Oh, she’d have liked you!” Sam seemed unshakably positive about that. “Andy was practically in tears when he learned that you were available for a job with his mother. But of course, a brand-new grandchild takes precedence over even a home Mrs. Abbott loves as much as she does her own.”
“Well, of course. What grandmother wouldn’t be willing to close up her home and travel around the world, if need be, to welcome a grandchild?”
Sam seemed very relieved by her acceptance of his news. After a moment, he went on, “Andy wants to come calling on you.”
Startled, Alison said quickly, “Oh, but I don’t think so.”
“You didn’t find him attractive and want to get to know him better?”
“Well, goodness, I barely met him. How could I know?”
There was a twinkle in Sam’s eyes.
“I got the impression from him that that was the main reason he wanted to come calling,” he told her, slightly amused by her reaction.
“Well, that’s very kind of him, but while I’m a guest here at Oakhill, I don’t think it would be very polite to have callers, do you?”
“Oh, I don’t think the Ramseys would mind.”
“Well, I would!” She was flushed now, faintly defensive, and would no longer meet his eyes. “And I’d much rather not have callers except the ones they invite.”
“They’re very hospitable people,” Sam told her, “and entertained a lot until the Old Gentleman became ill.”
“They’re the kindest, most wonderful people in the world,” Alison said eagerly, and added uncertainly, “Of course, it was Judy who invited me to stay. Mrs. Ramsey hasn’t said a word. Nor has Bix. I suppose with his grandfather so ill, it’s up to Bix to offer such invitations, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so, but I’m sure you needn’t worry about that,” Sam assured her firmly. “For whatever Judy wants will be whatever Bix wants, from now on. I feel quite sure of that.”
Alison studied him earnestly for a moment, wondering if she really had caught the faintest possible note of wistfulness in his voice.
“You are—well, pleased that Bix and Judy are getting married?” she asked hesitantly.
Sam’s brows drew together in a slight frown, and now it was his eyes that avoided hers.
“Since they’ve been in love with each other since they were kids, I think it’s perfect,” he told her.
She knew she should not go on probing, but for some obscure reason she would not face up to, she had to know the truth.
“When we first arrived,” she said, “I got the impression that you were in love with Judy.”
Sam looked up sharply, as though unpleasantly startled by the words. Then he looked away from her and said brusquely, “I thought so, too. But after Bix came back and I saw that she was as much in love with him as ever, I realized that she and I had been drawn together only by the fact that we were both lonely. That can make an awful fool of a guy, as you must surely know by now.”
“I can’t imagine that you’d ever be a fool about anything,” she told him impulsively.
He turned his eyes to meet hers, and now there was deep relief in them.
“Thanks, but I can be and have been an astronomical number of times, as I’m afraid you’ll discover if you stay here as long as I hope you will.”
“I’ll stay as long as they’ll let me,” she promised. “But I doubt very much that I’ll ever catch you making a fool of yourself. Somehow, I just can’t feel you’re the type.”
“Now you’re the one who’s being kind, and I like it,” he assured her. “I like it very much!”
She twinkled at him demurely.
“It was no trouble.” She laughed. “In fact, it might easily become habit-forming—in time, of course.”
“And time, let us hope, is what we have plenty of.”
For a long moment they stood looking at each other. In the golden afterglow of the sunset, with the chatter of the birds all about them, something shimmered between them; something gauzy-winged, iridescently beautiful, fragile as a cobweb. Each of them was aware of it, and for some absurd reason it made Alison suddenly unreasonably shy.
“Well,” she said a trifle hurriedly as though to prevent the cobweb from tightening about them, “I’d better go in and see if Mrs. Ramsey will let me make myself useful.”
Sam, understanding perfectly the reason for her escape and indeed grateful that she had destroyed the shimmering exquisiteness of the moment, nodded and said, “Don’t be too anxious about that. You’re a welcome guest, and they won’t expect you to be useful. You’re decorative enough without that.”
He rose from the big wicker chair and started for the steps, just as Judy came out of the house and hurriedly toward them.
“I thought I heard you two out here.” She beamed happily at them and added, “What about Mrs. Abbott, Sam? Are you driving Alison in to see her?”
Sam explained, and Judy’s happy smile broadened.
“Whoops! That’s wonderful.” She glowed, and added hastily, “I was hoping that Alison would be staying on for a long time, and Mother is, too. Bix thinks he and I should go on a honeymoon, and I didn’t want Mother to be alone while I was gone. It won’t be for more than a week, I’m sure. With the Old Gentleman so ill, I wouldn’t want to be away any longer.”
Sam smiled warmly at Alison. “See? I told you it would all straighten itself out if we just gave it time enough.”
Judy looked from one to the other, puzzled.
“I must have missed a part of this scene,” she admitted. “I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about. Should I?”
“Well, I see no reason why you shouldn’t, Young ’Un,” Sam told her. “Alison was telling me that she couldn’t stay on here forever, and I was trying to tell her how welcome she’d be, even though I realize it’s not my place to tell her that.”
“Why not?” J
udy was frankly puzzled. “You’re part of Oakhill.”
“Such an invitation should come from Bix, Young ’Un,” Sam pointed out. “Or Miz’ Beth.”
Judy shrugged. “Oh, Bix will be delighted, too. I can speak for him and for Miz’ Beth, too.”
Sam raised his eyebrows at Alison and said, “I told you it would be like that, didn’t I?”
Mildly suspicious, Judy asked, “Like what?”
“Like whatever Judy wants, Bix wants, too.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” Her head was up, and there was frostiness in her eyes. “Because whatever Bix wants is what Judy wants.”
Sam spoke to Alison, mildly amused. “Sounds like it might be a very happy marriage, don’t you think? No arguments!”
“Oh, there’ll be arguments, of course,” Judy said happily. “Probably a lot of them, because we are both human. But the arguments can be settled by compromise, not a brawl.”
She changed the subject abruptly and said, “Isn’t that just like me? I was sent out here for a purpose, and instead I let myself get all bogged down in chatter.”
“A not unusual happening,” Sam murmured, his eyes warm on her as Alison could not help but note with a slight sinking of her heart.
“You hush!” ordered Judy childishly, and grinned disarmingly at him. “I was sent out here to tell you that you’re invited to stay to dinner, and Mam’ Chloe won’t take ‘no’ for answer!”
“And knowing Mam’ Chloe as I do, I’d hesitate to refuse her,” Sam said. “I’ll be happy to stay for dinner.”
“It’s a celebration,” Judy announced happily.
“Of the engagement?” Alison asked.
“Golly, no!” Judy laughed. “A celebration of the departure of the invaders.” She added hastily, “We never considered you one of that mob, honey, not even from the first day!”
“Thanks, Judy,” Alison answered. “From the first day, I realized we were invaders, but there was nothing I could do about it.”
“Well, that’s all over and done with. Let’s go in and see what Mam’ Chloe has whipped up for dinner,” Judy said. “She said the freezers were overloaded with fancy vittles,’ and she wanted to get rid of them, so we’d have ‘fancy meals’ for dinner every night.”
