A matron fluttered up and kissed Megan’s cheek. “Delightful party, darling. Where’s that delicious husband of yours?”
“Rand had a business emergency. He’s so sorry he couldn’t be here.”
Molly had heard her utter exactly the same words, with precisely the same inflection, at least a dozen times since the party began. Was Rand’s absence the reason Megan seemed so drained and tired? A party this size would be stress enough, of course, even without a missing host.
The band switched from background music to dance numbers, the crowd fell back to leave the center of the atrium free, and Alix and Bernie took the floor for their anniversary waltz.
Thirty years, Molly thought. Three long decades of living together, raising children, building a home. How had they done it?
What I really want to know is how much it mattered whether or not they loved each other. Had love been like the extra touch of spice which made a dish extraordinary, even though it tasted perfectly good without that last ingredient? Or had it been like the lubricant in an engine that kept the pieces from grating intolerably against each other, eventually to overheat and destroy the whole mechanism?
And how about a one-sided love? Would that be better or worse for a marriage than having none at all?
“I believe,” Luke said behind her, “this is my dance.”
With a sense of unreality, Molly stepped into his arms.
They hadn’t danced together since their dutiful single turn around the floor at Megan’s wedding. And he hadn’t held her since that incendiary kiss in Oakwood’s drive more than a week ago. She tried not to remember what that had felt like, for if she ever needed all her wits about her, it was now. But the warmth of his fingers clasping hers, the weight of his other hand at the small of her back, the brush of his cheek against her hair awakened every sensual memory from that night
She was startled to realize, however, that in some ways this embrace was even more erotic. The ebb and flow of the music, the movement of their bodies in a rhythmic pattern sent her pulse racing. And the restraint imposed by the crowd added a piquant edge. There were so many things they couldn’t do with all the world watching—and that made her want them all the more.
He whispered, “Molly, what—”
She said hastily, “Was Bailey all right? She didn’t give you any trouble about staying at Oakwood, I mean? After that scene last night—”
“She was fine as soon as Watkins promised to take her and Lucky for a walk. You’re procrastinating, Molly.”
Breathlessly she plunged on. “She wanted so badly to come to the party, but it’s not the sort of thing for children, is it?”
“Megan’s parties never are. Molly, you told me you’d answer at your parents’ party. I’m waiting.”
The time for analyzing was over. Molly had argued the question over and over and reached no firm conclusion. The answer would have to come from her heart.
She closed her eyes and looked deep within herself and said, “Yes.”
As if on cue, the music shifted to a slower tempo, and with increased assurance Luke drew her closer. “Shall we tell everyone right now?”
He didn’t sound happy about it, she thought with a trickle of uneasiness, or even particularly pleased. He sounded triumphant.
As if he’d won a battle...or maybe the whole war.
CHAPTER TEN
ANNOUNCE their engagement—when the prospective bride was already half-regretting her answer and really wanted nothing more than to climb into a damp cave and pretend to be a mushroom?
“No,” Molly said hastily. “I mean... This is my parents’ special night.”
“Don’t you think our announcement would make it even more special?”
“I think it would be very rude not to tell our families first. And what about Bailey? Surely she shouldn’t be the last to know.”
“I doubt she’ll file a complaint with the etiquette department,” Luke said dryly.
“What’s the rush, anyway?” But Molly knew, of course. He wanted her to make a public commitment. The expectations of friends and family would assure she wouldn’t change her mind. Luke was no fool. He understood a decision that had taken a week to form wasn’t more solid than a snap decision but a whole lot more fluid.
From the corner of her eye she caught rapid movement at the far side of the atrium—people hurrying toward a patch of brilliant apricot which lay on the floor.
“It’s Megan,” she said. “Something’s very wrong.”
She pulled away from him and hurried across the room. By the time she reached the edge of the confusion, Megan was sitting up, leaning against a male guest who’d knelt beside her and trying to smile. “I felt a little faint, that’s all,” she said, but there was no substance to her voice. Molly could hardly hear her. “Please, go on and enjoy the party.” She caught Molly’s eye. Her gaze was a desperate plea.
Molly pushed through the crowd and sank to the floor. Her skirt formed a pool of teal-blue silk against the cold marble. “Meg, what is it?”
“It’s happening again,” Megan whispered. “Come with me...please?”
Another miscarriage? Oh, no... “Try to keep me away. Will you all move back and give her some air?” Molly looked around wildly, but she couldn’t see Luke. Her mother was there, though. Alix promptly began shooing people off to the dance floor, the dining room, the terrace.
Luke appeared out of nowhere. Molly didn’t want to admit the rush of relief she felt at knowing he was there beside her.
He bent over Megan. “It’s the hospital for you, my dear. I told the valet to bring my car around.”
She managed a feeble smile. “You have something against ambulances, Hudson?”
In the Jaguar’s back seat, Molly blotted perspiration from Megan’s forehead. She’d thought her colorless before. Now she was pasty white.
Luke was frowning. “How long’s this been going on, Meg?”
“A couple of days. Last time it took a whole week, so I thought surely I could get through the party. And don’t look at me that way, Luke. Just because I didn’t want to ruin Mother and Dad’s special day—”
Molly muttered, “You should have been in bed instead of giving a party.”
“It wasn’t the party that caused this. Believe me, I know the signs. And my doctor said bed rest wouldn’t change a thing, so I might as well go about my normal activities.”
Much later, as Molly paced the waiting room and Luke flipped through a magazine, she said, with a trace of acid, “I wonder if Megan’s doctor knows she includes a party for three hundred in her definition of normal activities.”
Luke didn’t look up from the pages of Fortune. “He’s probably right that it wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“Shouldn’t somebody try to find Rand?”
“Why? If Megan wants him, she’ll ask for him.”
“That’s pretty hard-hearted of you. He has a right....” Molly’s voice trailed off. And a responsibility. If Megan knew two days ago that this was happening, and Rand went off on business anyway...
“I see you’re finally getting around to wondering why we’re the ones sitting in the waiting room,” Luke murmured. “If we keep making visits of this frequency and duration, you know, they’re going to have to put up a bronze plaque in our honor.”
“At least we’re better dressed this time.”
“Speak for yourself. Given a choice between wet running shoes and a bow tie...” He tugged the tie loose and stuffed it in his pocket. “But as long as we’re sitting here, we might as well accomplish something. There’s the matter of setting a wedding date, for one thing.”
Molly’s stomach tightened. “I suppose you want to make it soon.”
“Any reason not to? A big white wedding would be in rather poor taste, so there’s no real reason to delay, is there?”
I wish there was, Molly thought. But slowly, she shook her head.
Near midnight, when the worst was over, Luke left to break
the news to Bernie and Alix, and Molly stayed at Megan’s bedside, stroking her hair and talking softly.
“You’re treating me the same way you did Bailey when she was here,” Megan said finally.
Was the reminder of the child like salt in the wound? “I’m sorry.”
“No—I meant it’s nice to be pampered.” She closed her eyes. “It’s for the best, I know.”
“Maybe so, though it doesn’t hurt any less.” Molly added carefully, “Perhaps, when you’ve had time to heal, you’ll think about adopting. Once a baby’s in your arms, it doesn’t matter whether you carried him or not—”
“I know that. But Rand would never agree to giving his name to a child who wasn’t of his blood, one who might have tainted genes. As if the two I’ve lost didn’t... But of course, he’s certain that’s my fault. My blue-collar ancestry.”
Molly was horrified at the matter-of-fact note in Megan’s voice.
“I guess he thought his own blood would be rich enough to make the difference. But when I miscarried his heir... And then I couldn’t seem to get pregnant again. Well, of course I was to blame. You wondered, didn’t you, why I was so unhappy about what should be wonderful news?”
Molly said wryly, “I’m beginning to understand.”
“I was working up my nerve to tell Rand I wanted out when I realized I was pregnant again. And I knew that if I carried the baby to term, he would consider that child his personal property—and if I divorced him, I’d lose my child just as surely as I had the first one. So I decided to keep quiet.”
“You didn’t even tell him?”
Megan shook her head. “If I got through the dangerous time, then of course he’d have to know. And if so, my only option would be to make the best of it. Keep a stiff upper lip and all that.” She shrugged. “In a horrible way, I feel almost relieved. I’ll grieve my baby, of course. But I’m not facing a life sentence any more, tied to a man who doesn’t love me.”
Her voice trailed off, and for a moment, Molly thought she’d drifted into sleep.
A life sentence... tied to a man who doesn’t love me.
“Mother will probably never speak to me again,” Megan said. “Giving up all that lovely money and my social position. It’s ironic, isn’t it? In the space of a couple of weeks we’ve changed places entirely, in her estimation. You’re in the bosom of the Hudson family, and I’m an outcast.”
“I don’t think I’d go quite that far about either of us.”
Megan didn’t seem to hear. “Well, she’s just going to have to lump it. As soon as Rand gets back from his business trip...”
Something about her inflection warned Molly. “It isn’t a business trip?”
“Of course it isn’t. He only married me because he wanted a son to carry on the dynasty and because he liked the idea of a wife who was so dependent that she could never walk out no matter how many other women he had. That part backfired, though, because if he was the one who wanted a divorce it would cost him more in a settlement. So he stayed. And I grew more miserable, until I couldn’t take it any more...”
Eventually she dozed, but Molly stood for a long time beside the bed, still holding Megan’s hand and listening to the chilling echo of her words.
Facing a life sentence. Tied to a man who doesn’t love me. He only married me because he wanted a son.
There was an eerie familiarity to the phrases.
Luke’s not Rand, Molly told herself. It wasn’t fair to compare them. Nevertheless...
Megan had loved Rand once. Molly would never forget the radiance in her sister’s face on her wedding day. But her love hadn’t been enough to hold the marriage together. Weighed in the balance against a man who didn’t love her, a man who only wanted his child, Megan’s love hadn’t stood a chance. Her love hadn’t changed Rand, and in the end it had been crushed to death under the weight of her resentment and pain.
And what about Molly and her love for Luke? Would her case be any different? Luke had been straightforward from the beginning, as she suspected Rand hadn’t He’d admitted he didn’t love her, admitted that his main motivation was his daughter. But was honesty a substitute for caring?
Could she afford to take the chance—with herself and with Bailey?
Molly was lying in a lounge chair behind the house, basking in the sunlight and catching up on her rest, when Luke came through the sliding doors onto the deck.
He had never looked better, Molly thought. His worn jeans hugged trim hips, and his lightweight coffee-brown sweater made his eyes look even bigger and more inviting. As she caught his gaze he smiled at her, a slow smile that reached straight through her and turned her heart upside down.
But she couldn’t let a smile outweigh what she knew was right. She sat up a little straighter. “Hi. There’s some lemonade on the table.”
He shook his head and pulled a chair around. “Your mother told me Megan’s here.”
“She and Bailey are curled up together having a nap. Meg didn’t want to go back to that house.” Molly deliberately didn’t say home, but it was apparent Luke knew what she meant. “And since Mother didn’t disown her, after all—”
“Megan told you everything, then?”
Molly nodded. “At least, I hope she isn’t still leaving something out. I understand why she kept quiet The fewer people who knew, the easier to maintain her dignity if she had to stay in the situation. But—” But she told you, Molly thought. And I want to know why.
“It’s going to be close quarters with all of you here.”
“We’ll make room. It probably won’t be for long, anyway.”
“Is that why you wanted to talk to me? We can move the wedding date up.”
Molly stared at her fingernails. Tell him. You have to tell him.
“Remember?” Luke prompted. “You left a message for me that you wanted to talk to me about the wedding.”
“I didn’t put it quite that way.”
“No, you were very discreet. Watkins didn’t quite lose his professional demeanor, but it was plain that he was dying to know what you were talking about.” He reached into his pocket. “I thought you should have this right away.”
He tossed a small white velvet box into her lap. Molly picked it up, but she didn’t open it. She didn’t need to. The only question was what diamond cut he’d chosen and how it was set. Even the stone’s size, she thought, was fairly predictable. For Luke Hudson’s bride, only large would do.
If Molly hadn’t already been certain of what she must do, that simple action of his would have clarified her thinking. A man in love didn’t toss a diamond ring, he put it on his beloved’s finger. She gave Luke some credit for not pretending a sentiment he didn’t feel. But the missing tenderness was just one more piece of evidence in the chain that had brought her to this moment.
She threw the box back, and he fielded it easily. “I’m not moving the wedding up, Luke. I’m calling it off.”
“You can’t.” He stood and dropped the box into her lap. “You gave your word.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind.”
“No, Molly. You had more than a week to think about it. And you can’t say I pestered you. I never said a thing.”
No, he hadn’t, she admitted. After their initial discussion, his efforts to influence her decision had been strictly nonverbal.
She followed him to the deck rail, where he stood with hands braced, and set the box carefully between his thumbs. “I’m a rat,” she said. “I can’t be trusted. I’ve led you on once. I could do it again. I’ve lost my mind altogether. You’ve had a lucky escape. Take your pick, Luke, I don’t care. But let this be the end of it—so it doesn’t hurt Bailey.”
He picked up the velvet box and tossed it gently from one hand to the other as if he was toying with a hardboiled egg.
“Why?”
“I told you—”
“No. I mean the reason, not the string of excuses.” He didn’t sound hurt or offended or resentful—only curious.
>
She hesitated. He’d been honest with her, she reminded herself, all the way through. Out of simple respect, she couldn’t reciprocate with a lie.
But she certainly couldn’t tell the truth.
She didn’t look at him but at the lake, shimmering blue under the brilliant sun. “I don’t think it’s any of your business,” she said honestly. “I’ve given you my decision, and it stands.”
“That’s what you implied last night, too—that you meant what you said.” His voice was too calm, she thought, and she felt a shiver of fear. “But if your decisions are so very flexible, perhaps a little persuasion is in order.”
Molly tried to move away, but his arm clamped around her and pulled her tight against him. His first kiss was demanding, almost violent—but she still couldn’t keep herself entirely aloof, and with the first hint of her response his entire attitude changed. He caressed instead of attacked, asked rather than commanded. And where continued ferocity would have hardened her resolve, his gentleness seized her soul and shook it and made it even more fully his. By the time he let her go, every cell of Molly’s body was trembling.
“Well, now,” he drawled. “We’ve once more established that you’re not indifferent to me.”
Not that it seemed to make any real difference to him.
Shaken to the core, Molly had to take a second to compose herself before she could answer. “You’re right, Luke. I’m not indifferent. Offended is more like it.” She stalked across the deck and turned at the door for one last look at the man she loved. After today, he would be the father of her daughter, and nothing more.
Luke was in the midst of his mail on Wednesday morning when his secretary came in. “Excuse me, sir,” she said. “But Ms. Matthews would like to speak with you. She said she’d wait.”
Luke’s hand clenched on the mini recorder. Molly had said she wanted to talk to him on Sunday, too—but instead she’d made her grandstand announcement and refused to discuss it. What was going on now? Yet another change of mind? “Tell her I’ll be a few minutes. Wanda.”
The Boss and the Baby Page 16
