The Silken Web

by Sandra Brown

  “You loved him, didn’t you?”

  She looked away from him, her eyes darting around the room, resting first on one object and then another, anything to keep them busy and away from Seth’s discerning gaze.

  “Kathleen?”

  Then she did look at him, and his face was full of such tenderness that she collapsed under its compassion. “Yes,” she sobbed, and buried her face once again in the handkerchief. “And I still do. God forgive me, but I do.”

  “Does he know about—?”

  “No!” she cried. “He never will. I’ll never see him again. He has another life, a…” She couldn’t tell Seth that Erik had a wife. She’d retain that much honor in his eyes. “To me, it’s as though he’s dead.”

  She got up and walked to the window. Her arms were wrapped defensively around her waist. She hadn’t heard the motor of his wheelchair approaching her, and jumped when he spoke directly behind her.

  “Why are you leaving Kirchoff’s?”

  Kathleen whirled around in disbelief that he needed to ask. “Why?” she said incredulously. Hadn’t he heard a thing she had said? “Why? I think the reason is obvious. I’m pregnant, Seth. In a few months, I’ll be as big as a blimp. And a few months after that, I’ll have a newborn baby to take care of.”

  “I know the facts of life, Kathleen,” he said without emotion, but he was smiling. “There’s no clause in your contract that says pregnancy would prohibit you from doing your job. That’s illegal, and besides, we’re not as stuffy and unenlightened as that! Professional women are no longer restricted from having children. Are you afraid it would be too much for you?”

  She answered slowly, a glimmer of hope beginning to shine on an otherwise bleak horizon. “No, but—”

  “What did you intend to do?”

  “Well,” she said evasively, “I thought I’d get a lower-profile job. And then, after the baby came, when I was able to go back to work, I’d put the baby in a day—”

  “In a day-care center, where he’ll grow up without you, without the proper attention an infant needs?”

  “No,” Kathleen said angrily. “I’d make sure that it was a good one.”

  “That’s still unacceptable, Kathleen. Come here.” He took her hand and pulled her down toward his lap.

  “Seth,” she gasped. “What are you… I’ll hurt you,” she said as she landed with a plop on his thighs.

  He laughed. “How I wish you could!” Then he sobered and drew her closer, placing one arm around her back and the other around her waist. “Kathleen, I wish I could feel something in my legs. Even pain. I can’t feel anything from the waist down. It’s dead.” His eyes pierced into hers. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

  She looked away, momentarily embarrassed, then back at him. It was hard to remain embarrassed with someone as unpretentious and open as Seth. “Yes, I think so,” she murmured.

  “Then you know that I’ll never be able to have a baby, a family, though that was one of my fondest desires. And as much as I’d like to in my mind,” he stroked her cheek with fleeting fingers, “I couldn’t impose any physical demands on a woman.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Will you marry me, Kathleen?”

  It was her turn to stare now. The unexpected proposal had import enough, but what was even more astonishing was that it had come when she had just divulged that she was carrying another man’s child and that she loved that man. Had Seth gone mad?

  “Seth, you—”

  “I want you for my wife,” he finished simply. “I love you, Kathleen. I have from the moment you walked into my office that first day. I know you don’t love me. You love the father of your baby, and I truly would think less of you if you didn’t. But he isn’t here. I am. I want you. I want your child. Please, Kathleen, come into my life. Such as it is.” He smiled sadly, and only one side of his sculpted mouth lifted at the corner.

  “I’m asking a lot, I realize,” he continued after a moment. “I know that a healthy woman like you needs more of a man than I can be.” His voice took on a touching desperation. “But I can give you security, a name for your child, an opulent lifestyle—”

  “Seth, please.” She pressed her fingers against his lips to still them. “Your wealth doesn’t matter to me. What you’re offering is too generous even to consider. Your side of the giving far outweighs mine.”

  “Let me worry about that,” he said, drawing her against his chest and placing her head on his shoulder. “Live in my house, let me see you every day, work with me, help me realize my vision, imbue me with your lively spirit.”

  “Seth,” she whispered against the warm, fragrant skin of his throat. Could she do it? Was this the answer to her dilemma? She had the highest regard for him. Maybe it bordered on love. He was honest, idealistic, trusting and tolerant. What more could one ask of a man?

  His physical limitations didn’t even figure into her decision. She had loved once. To Erik, she had given her body, all she had to give, and she was certain that she could never love any man with that single-minded passion again. She would never see Erik again. Even if she did, he belonged to someone else. They could never have a life together.

  She still loved him. No longer did she try to deny that indelible fact. She loved him. A life with Seth wouldn’t be as blissful, as electric. She wouldn’t get breathless each time she anticipated seeing him and, upon sight, have even the highest anticipation dimmed by the reality. She would never know again that transcendence of body, soul and mind, that oneness with another being that could only happen through loving.

  But her life with Seth would be a good one. He would cherish her and her child. It would be quiet and peaceful. They would work side by side, each doing something they loved. She would know kindness and… honesty.

  “You don’t have to give me an answer today, but I’d be elated if you’d say yes right now,” Seth said.

  She sat up and placed her hands on the lapels of his coat. “Do you know what you’re bargaining for?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll marry you, Seth. Happily and without hesitation.”

  He kissed her softly on the lips. It was a kiss empty of passion, but tender. It sealed the covenant. When he pulled away, he said, “We’re of different… tribes, so to speak. Does it bother you that I’m Jewish?”

  “Not if it doesn’t bother you that I’m Christian.”

  He laughed. “All I ask is that if the baby’s a boy, we have him circumcised on the eighth day of his life according to our tradition.”

  “Of course. And may he celebrate Christmas and Easter until he’s old enough to decide religions for himself?”

  “Certainly.” His eyes wandered leisurely over her face, adoring each feature. Finally, he said gruffly, “I love you, Kathleen.”

  She banished the picture in her mind of azure eyes that sparkled like water, hair that shone golden in the sunlight, a mustache that framed flashing white teeth, and tried to focus her attention on the dark, loving face close to hers. “I know you do, Seth, I know.”

  * * *

  “Surely you’re joking.” Hazel Kirchoff was seated in her beautifully, tastefully, expensively decorated living room on the peach silk cushions of her half-circle couch. Her hands were folded gracefully in her lap, her ankles crossed with exemplary deportment, her posture straight, as had been taught her in the private school she had attended as a young girl.

  “No, I’m not. Kathleen and I are getting married this Sunday afternoon in Judge Walter’s chambers. He owes us a favor. Remember? We ordered that mink stole for Mrs.—”

  “Seth, I’m well aware of the favor we did for the judge,” she snapped. “Would you kindly tell me what you can possibly be thinking when you say that you’re marrying that little… Ms. Haley.”

  Seth grinned as he wheeled over to the antique rosewood sideboard and poured himself another scotch. “Surprised? I am, too.”

  “The only thing that surprises me is t
hat my rational, intelligent brother is babbling like an idiot. You can’t really mean that you and Ms. Haley are getting married. It’s preposterous!”

  “I agree!” he said cheerfully. “But strange as it may seem, it’s true.”

  The agitation on Hazel’s face didn’t reveal a fraction of the fury raging within her. She had known that girl meant trouble. Beauty and brains were incompatible attributes. What her brother considered intelligence, Hazel recognized as cunning. Kathleen had schemed her way into the corporation, the thing that Hazel held most dear. Now she was invading her family and home, too. She had craftily besotted Seth, who, God knew, would welcome the attention of any woman.

  Their mother had died when Hazel was twenty-four. Seth, a late-in-life baby, had been only eleven. Hazel had taken care of and protected him ever since. It wasn’t an obligation she had asked for or particularly enjoyed, but damned if she would be usurped.

  Belying the tumult inside her, she smiled and said, “Why don’t you tell me about it, Seth, dear.”

  Eagerly, Seth launched into an account of Kathleen’s merits. The more Hazel listened, the more she cursed her brother for the fool she had always thought him to be. His acts of generosity irritated her. His patience, his acceptance of his disability, all grated on her. Why didn’t he feel anger, bitterness? He was weak. Just like their father, for whom she had always harbored the deepest disdain.

  When Seth finally paused long enough to take a sip of scotch, she put her lips to her sherry glass, though she really didn’t drink any. She despised the stuff. Her solace came from the secret bottle of vodka stashed in a drawer in her bedroom.

  She smiled sweetly, the expression on her face barely more than a grimace. “I know how talented and beautiful Ms. Haley is, Seth.” The words stuck to her throat like bad-tasting medicine. “But what do we know about her?”

  “She was raised in an orphanage after the death of her parents.” He went on to capsulize Kathleen’s life for his sister, much as Kathleen had done for him the afternoon he had proposed.

  The more he talked about Kathleen, the brighter his eyes shone and the more the burning, sinking feeling in her stomach pained Hazel. “Seth, darling,” she said gently, “forgive my indelicacy, but you can’t… I mean… it won’t be a traditional marriage.” She managed to force a blush and look awkwardly down at her hands, all the time thinking that her brother couldn’t satisfy that slut in a million years. She had seen the way Kathleen used those beguiling eyes and that small, lithe body to full advantage, torturing her stupid brother into thinking that he was a man again.

  “I know, Hazel,” Seth said sadly. “However, providence has compensated for that. You see, even now, Kathleen is carrying the Kirchoff heir. She’s expecting a baby in the spring.”

  The words had a devastating effect on Hazel’s false composure. “What!” she gasped. Her face grew hideous, all the ugliness in her soul suddenly becoming evident in that moment when the facade was down. The whore was pregnant! That didn’t surprise Hazel. What did surprise her was the bitch’s audacity to try to dump her bastard on the Kirchoffs. “You’re going to marry a whore pregnant with someone else’s bastard? You intend to name that scum as your heir?”

  Seth was momentarily shocked by Hazel’s coarse tirade. Since her one love affair had gone awry many years ago, Seth knew his sister avoided men except on a professional basis. He placed his highball glass on the parqueted top of the coffee table and wheeled his chair closer to her. He knew she must be extremely upset to react so violently. Perhaps he should have broached the subject more gently, instead of letting his happiness run rampant and without discretion.

  “Hazel,” he said kindly, “I know that this comes as a surprise to you, and you’re naturally suspicious of Kathleen’s motives, but I must ask you not to speak about her in those terms. I love her very much.”

  Hazel stared at him in disbelief, wondering if he had any inkling as to how imbecilic he sounded.

  “The man… the father of her child hurt her deeply. She loved him. Kathleen couldn’t have given herself to him had she not.”

  That’s what you think, Hazel sneered silently. That whore would open up her long, slender legs for any man. And you, my stupid brother, are sadly lacking in that department.

  “Please give her a chance, Hazel. I know you’ll come to love her as I do. And the child. It will be your niece or nephew, after all.” He smiled.

  Hazel forced her face to remain inscrutable. What choice did she have? If she spit out the harsh words that were churning inside her, clamoring for release, Seth might possibly turn on her. He was obviously besotted with the woman.

  As it was, she still held the reins of control over him. The best guarantee she had of keeping them was to accept this tramp into her house and, in Seth’s view, play the simpering spinster sister-in-law. It wouldn’t be difficult. It wasn’t far from the role she had been playing for years—the doting sister—when all the while, the very sight of Seth repulsed her. She must protect her first love, the store. Hazel forced herself to ask calmly, “What about her job at the store?”

  “She’ll retain it. I’ve insisted. But I want her to hire an assistant to be in training to take over when the baby arrives.”

  That wasn’t the best option to Hazel’s mind, but she could work around it. Even to herself, her smile felt false as she said, “Forgive me, Seth, for what I said. I was too stunned to think rationally.” She raised her hand to his dark hair and brushed back a few vagrant strands. “I guess I’m having a typical jealous reaction. You’ve been more like a son than a brother. Now I’m losing you to another woman.”

  He caught her hand and pressed it to his cheek. “You’re not losing me. We’re going to be a family. All of us together.”

  “Yes,” she murmured as he wheeled away to ask George to bring a magnum of champagne. Of one thing Hazel was certain, if she had to murder the woman, her bastard and Seth himself, that slut wouldn’t inherit one red cent of the money that rightfully belonged to Hazel Kirchoff.

  * * *

  “I just can’t believe it, B. J.” Edna said. “She’s married?”

  “That’s what the letter says, but I’m damned if I can believe it either.” He raked his hand through his grizzled gray hair. “Who is the guy again?”

  “She says his name is Seth Kirchoff and that he owns the department store she’s working for. In San Francisco, of all places. They were married last Sunday. She says she’s moving into his house this weekend.”

  “You figure he’s rich?”

  Edna scanned the paper she was holding in her hand. “Well, if this stationery with her new initials embossed on it is any indication, I’d say yes,” Edna commented caustically. As she read the letter again, she asked, “B. J., aren’t you surprised?”

  “Nothing surprises me anymore,” he grumbled.

  Edna spun around and glared at him. “Will you put down that damn newspaper and talk to me about this! You aren’t going to hide behind that screen. I know that you’re hurt by her behavior, too. Now let’s talk about it.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Kathleen’s got a new husband and a new life. That’s all there is to it,” he said firmly.

  “No, that’s not all there is to it. Don’t you think we should tell him—?”

  “No!” B. J. said adamantly. There was no doubt in his mind to whom Edna was referring.

  “But we promised to let him know if we heard from her.”

  “We did no such thing, Edna, and don’t try to trick me into thinking we did.”

  She gnawed her lip as she thought of a new tack. “Maybe we should just let him know that she is alive and well—”

  “And living in San Francisco with a new rich husband. Do you think that would be kind?” he demanded.

  “No,” she sighed, and slumped down in a chair at the kitchen table where they had been enjoying a leisurely breakfast until the mail had been delivered.

  “All right then,” B. J. said, grateful
that the unpleasant issue had been settled. “Pour me some more coffee.”

  * * *

  Erik stared down into the amber liquid in his glass as if it held the answers to all the mysteries of the universe. Maybe if he looked at it hard enough, deep enough, he would find the solution to his own misery.

  The sound of laughter came from the other side of the bar, from a booth where three couples were sharing a pitcher of beer and congenial conversation. He turned his back on them as a wave of loneliness struck him. Had he ever been part of a group, fit in anywhere? At one time, his peers at work had included him when they went out after hours for a drink. But his drinking had become too serious, his mood too morose, his temper too volatile to be attractive to other people.

  When he had finally been able to go back to work after the airplane accident, he was angry to the point of madness. He had finally produced the piece on the innovative orphanages he had been assigned to do, but each day he worked on it was torture. Each time he played the videotapes of Mountain View, his gut would be wrenched anew. If he saw Kathleen’s image on the monitor, he would smash his fist into his palm as though wishing it were she he was crushing.

  “You took your sweet time, ol’ buddy,” his producer said when he finally submitted the piece for air play.

  “Go to hell,” Erik grumbled as he headed for the door.

  “Wait a minute, Gudjonsen,” the man called him back, but quelled under the forbidding look Erik leveled at him. “Listen, I know it’s none of my business,” he said bravely, “but ever since you came back after that airplane accident, you’ve had a burr up your ass. There are some people around here who are getting pretty fed up with this attitude of yours. I like you, Erik. You’re a terrific talent and I hate to see a career wasted and shot to hell because of a chip on someone’s shoulder. If there’s anything I can do—”

  “As you said, it’s none of your business,” Erik snarled, and slammed out the door.