An Irresistible Impulse (17 page)

Her nightgown slid from her body as though it hadn’t belonged there at all. He undressed as quickly. And then he came to her, adoring her body as only he could do. Every part of her was his, and he gloried in the possession. He left no small spot untouched by his hands, his lips, his tongue.

She opened herself to him without restraint, expressing her love through total abandonment to his passion. His passion…her own…there was no distinction between the two. When he finally entered her, they were one as they’d been destined to be. Their union was the only thing that made sense.

Too fast it was ended. When Ben slid from
her bed before dawn and dressed, she watched him in sorrow. Then, without a word, he took her in his arms for a silent goodbye, a last, heart-rending embrace. And he was gone.

She felt as if she were the one awaiting judgment, with the outcome a sadly forgone conclusion. Yes, Ben had come to her, but it hadn’t proven anything other than that he’d understood her anguish, perhaps even needed solace of his own. After all,
he
was the one sharing the burden of judgment for that other trial, not Abby.

It hurt. Everything hurt. The trial…the prospect of returning home at any time…Ben. Especially Ben. He didn’t want love, didn’t want marriage. It would all be over soon.

The morning crept along through her silent misery. By afternoon she feared she couldn’t take much more. Time was a knife twisting, twisting in her heart.

Then, late in the afternoon, word finally came. The jury had reached a decision. To Abby’s surprise, even the alternates were expected
to be in the courtroom when the verdict was read.

Heart pounding, she joined Grace and Joan for that short, final drive to the courthouse. Legs wobbly, she climbed to the second floor courtroom and passed through its large leather doors.

The tension within hit her like a gust of hot, stifling air. The room was filled to over-flowing, its back walls lined with those who hadn’t found seats. All waited uneasily for the jury, then the judges to take their places.

Abby was shown to a seat just in front of the raised jury box. Looking toward the defendant, whose pallor reflected his own state of anxiety, she could almost sympathize with him. To fear that one’s life was about to change drastically…and for the worse…

She swung around when the rear doors opened and the jury returned, single file, down the aisle. Their expressions were uniformly grave, their eyes straight ahead. That they’d been through their own form of hell was obvious.

Ben’s face was drawn, his back straight. His eyes met hers for only an instant, telling her nothing but that he too had reached the end of a tautly held rope. Stomach knotting, she watched him move on to his place in the jury box.

Then the court officer banged her gavel, the courtroom stood, the judges returned, and everyone sat.

“Have you reached a verdict?”

The foreman, Bernie Langenbach, stood with a small piece of paper in his hand. “We have, your honor.”

“Will the clerk of court please read the verdict.”

The clerk stepped forward, took the paper from Bernie, and unfolded it. Abby held her breath.

“The defendant, Derek Bradley, is found…guilty.”

Guilty. On both counts. Shaken by the implication of the finding, Abby looked sharply down. Would
she
have voted for guilty had she been part of that final process? Would she have agreed with the others that the defendant had acted on reason, as opposed to that irresistible impulse, as the defense had argued?

Once, the answer would have been simple. Human beings were creatures of reason. She was. Ben was. Yet…hadn’t
they
acted on impulse, giving in to an irresistible impulse night after night?

Stunned, she barely heard the burst of noise in the courtroom, much less the judge’s dismissal. When Grace touched her arm and
indicated that the jury would return to its room for a final time, she stood. The other thirteen had gone before her. It was over.

If she thought she’d cried herself out last night, she was wrong. To her dismay, her eyes again filled with tears. It took every bit of determination she possessed to hold them in check.

As though aware of her state, Grace kept a firm hold of her elbow. The courtroom had suddenly come alive, spectators now swarming restlessly toward the aisles, waiting only for the trial participants to clear the room before surging forward.

“Hold on, Abby,” the court officer spoke kindly by her ear. “We’re almost there.”

They reached the doors, then worked their way down the winding stairs to arrive, moments later, at the jury room. When Grace suddenly vanished, Abby found herself alone.

This was where it had begun over three weeks before, where she’d seen Ben for the very first time. Then, she’d been composed, self-confident, in high spirits. Now she fought tears.

Where was he? She scanned the small groups of jurors. Ben wasn’t there! Had he gone already?
Gone?

“Abby!” He came on the run from behind to grab her arm and turn her. He was tense,
unsmiling, and short of breath. “Marry me, Abby. I’ve just spoken to the judge. He’ll do it now.”

Her eyes widened. Her heart thundered loudly. Then, without so much as an instant’s thought, she nodded.

Only then did Ben come to life. “Uh…yes.” Turning to Abby, he lowered his head and kissed her. Her lips were the only warm part of her body. He lingered, as caught in a trance as he’d been moments before. Abby,
too, savored that instant. It seemed the only reality.

Then the judge cleared his throat again, and they broke apart in time to accept his handshake. “Congratulations to both of you. I must say that this is a new one for me.” He looked from one to the other. “It’ll make quite a story for the grandchildren.” Then, for the first time, this man who’d given meaning to the phrase “sober as a judge” smiled. “Good luck to you.”

They stood in the judge’s lobby beyond the now-empty courtroom. Because of the unusual circumstances, the judge had waived the normal waiting period and consented to perform the ceremony there and then. It had been a brief exchange of vows, with Patsy and Brian serving as witnesses.

Now, as the judge stepped back, Brian shook hands with Ben while Patsy turned to hug Abby. “Congratulations, Abby! I knew it would work,” she whispered gaily. “Be happy!”

Abby couldn’t speak. She hadn’t said a word since “I do,” and very little before that. It had all happened so quickly that she was breathless. But her eyes were bright, and she managed a smile. Then, with a final squeeze for support, Patsy made way for Brian.

“Congratulations, Abby. You’ve got a good man.”

Again, she could only smile and nod. When Ben’s arm slipped around her waist, she was relieved.
Someone
had to take control, and she seemed totally helpless.

“Let’s go, Abby. We’ve got lots to do.”

It wasn’t the most romantic thought, or the most comforting. It was, however, practical. The vans were waiting to take them for the final time back to the inn, where their fellow jurors joined in an impromptu celebration thrown by the Abbotts. There was champagne to toast the newlyweds, caviar and Brie to accompany it, and a huge cake with a sugar-scripted message of farewell for them all.

Bags were packed, final goodbyes said. Then Abby found herself in the back seat of a cab, alone with her husband. It was the first quiet moment they’d had together since the night before.

For several long seconds the cabbie seemed to be the only one capable of functioning, directing the cab down the drive to the main road while his passengers sat silently.

Then Ben let out a tired sigh. “It’s hard to believe everything’s over.” He didn’t look at her.

She felt as awkward as he seemed to. “Was it…terrible…reaching that verdict?”

“Bad enough.” His mouth clamped shut. He obviously didn’t want to discuss it.

“Where are we going first…your place or mine?”

His eyes remained glued to the dusk-shrouded scenery. “Mine. We owe ourselves a rest. Yours we’ll save for tomorrow.”

“News of the verdict will be all over the papers. I’ll have to make some calls. Maybe I should…should plan to go in to work tomorrow?”

Ben looked at her for the first time. “No! I mean, take the day off. Hell, you were just married!”

Married? She couldn’t quite believe it. Her mind felt numb. It was enough to anticipate returning to normal after three weeks’ hiatus. Normal was no more. That the world she returned to would be inexorably different from the one she’d left she couldn’t yet grasp.

“Are
you
taking tomorrow off?”

“I’ll try,” he said. She chose to attribute his curtness to fatigue.

“And Saturday?” He’d said he had classes on Saturday mornings. She had her own, for that matter.

“If I can.” No promises either way.

No promises. Abby averted her gaze. There
had
been no promises made…even
in spite of the vows they’d taken in the judge’s chambers. What they’d done so impulsively had been simply to ensure that they’d stay together. For whatever his reasons, Ben hadn’t wanted to let Abby slip from his life any more than she’d wanted it. But, just as he’d warned that first night they’d made love, he’d made no promises. And he now sat beside her, her husband, an unknown in many ways. The thought sent a ripple of apprehension through her.

“Are you all right?”

She turned toward him. “Uh-huh.”

“You look pale.”

“It’s been a…a…” She couldn’t find the right word. “…long day.” That was one way of putting it. Totally understated. Not quite exact. But did she want to call her wedding day—her
wedding day?
—night-marish? Or bizarre? Or basically nonsensical? Ben seemed tense enough on his own without having to deal with her overwrought emotions.

“What will you tell Sean?”

She caught her breath. “That I…I need another day’s rest. He can do without me until Monday.”

“I mean about
us
.”

Their gazes locked and she sensed a wariness in him. Anxious to ease it, she answered without hesitation. “That we’re married.”
Hard as it was to believe, it was fact. And Sean of all people deserved to be told quickly. News must have already reached him that the trial was over; even now he was probably trying to reach her on the phone.

“He may give you a hard time.”

“I can handle it…and besides, there’s nothing he can do.” It was done. She
was
Mrs. Benjamin J. Wyeth. Little by little, the enormity of it crept through her numbness, leaving her senses all ajangle.

“Are you sorry?” he asked, still cautious.

“Sorry? Of course not! I”—she caught herself just in time—“I…knew what I was doing.” Barely…but that was secondary. The fact that she loved him covered for all the thought she
hadn’t
given to their marriage.

“Will your family be shocked?”

“Probably. They’d given up on me.”

He seemed to relax momentarily and actually permitted a half-smile. “Why would that be? You’re not exactly…” he skimmed her length appreciatively, “…over the hill.”

“No.” Her own lips twitched. How much better she felt when he warmed to her! “But I’ve fought them whenever the subject has come up.”

“Ahhhh. Your mother.” He recalled an early argument they’d had beneath the oak at the inn.

She nodded. “My mother. Once the shock
wears off, she’ll be thrilled!…What about you?” Her voice took on a pert note of teasing. “What’ll the reaction be on campus when word spreads that its bachelor professor is a bachelor no more?”

“There’s bound to be a riot. All those coeds who wait after class for special assignments—”

“You’re kidding me,” she broke in.

“Well…maybe no riot.”

“What about the
coeds?
You only talked about Alexandra. What’s this about
coeds?
”

“Jealous?”

“Yes!” This was the man she loved!

Ben’s eye caught the determined tilt of her chin. His smile faded, as did all sense of play. “You needn’t be. I took that vow of loyalty today, too. I’ll live up to it.”

“I know you will,” she said softly, believing it firmly. He’d be faithful; he was that kind of man. As for allowing himself to love her…that was something else. “Are
you
sorry, Ben?”

He didn’t answer for a while, simply gripped the handrail and stared at the dimming roadway. Abby felt her palms grow clammy. Finally, he turned to look at her. “No, Abby. I’m not sorry.”

But he said nothing more. She wanted to ask why he
had
married her, why the idea had come to him in the first place, but there
was that small part of her that feared his answer. Better to leave well enough alone, she mused, shifting her gaze to the window.

Darkness had fallen since they’d left the inn. By the time they reached the outskirts of Quechee, there was little to see. At Ben’s direction, the cab left the main road and traveled up a long private way before coming to a halt at the top of a rise.

Abby swallowed hard, realizing that this was
her
home now as well. As if sensing her apprehension, Ben helped her from the cab and kept her hand in his during the walk to the door.

The pale silver light of a demi-moon illuminated the outline of a modern home, more sprawling than tall, spreading silently to either side of its large front door. Even at first glance and in the dark, the house had the same clean-cut, casual air as its owner. Modern, but definitely Ivy League.

“Did you build it yourself?”

He opened the door and released her hand to let her walk in. Reaching to the side, he flipped on the lights. “I had it built for me, if that’s what you mean. I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted and couldn’t find it ready-made.”

“I can see why!” she exclaimed, delighted by the way the foyer led into an open, semi-circular living room off which the rest of the
house branched. With tour-guide formality, Ben pointed to the left and the dining room, kitchen, and laundry, then to the right and the bedrooms, bathrooms, and studies. Straight ahead were sliding glass doors that opened to…

“A deck and patio,” he meshed his words with her thoughts. “If the summer season were longer up here, I might have put in a pool. It’s still possible….” He shook his head slowly, his face a mask of momentary confusion. “
Anything’s
possible….” His voice trailed off, and he turned abruptly to retrieve their bags from the door. “Come on. I’ll show you my…our room.”

He led and she followed. They were husband and wife; one would never have guessed it. Except for momentary lapses, he was reserved, and she was uneasy. That they’d loved so wildly in each other’s arms for the past four nights, that they’d shared such warm and tender times together seemed impossible.

Ben showed her to the bedroom and put their bags on the bed. He made room in the closet for those clothes she had with her, then turned to unpack his own things. When he was finished, he excused himself and disappeared.

Emotionally drained, Abby collapsed onto the bed. It was the first moment she’d had to
herself since…since that afternoon, before the jury had come in. So much had happened! She simply couldn’t assimilate it.

She was Ben’s wife. His
wife!
He’d asked…she’d accepted. Just like that. By rights, she should be thrilled. Wasn’t she now guaranteed a life with him? Wasn’t that what she wanted?

Why, then, this terrible awkwardness between them? She loved Ben; she knew that. And she believed that Ben felt very strongly about her. But love? He wouldn’t permit himself to love her. And he seemed unhappy.
That
was what bothered her most.

Restless despite her exhaustion, she rolled to her feet and went into the bathroom to freshen up. The past three weeks had weaned her from her own home in South Woodstock, yet the newness of this place startled her. She opened the medicine chest to see
his
things—his comb and brush, his razor, his shaving cream. She turned around to see
his
towels hanging in rich terry splendor on the racks. She looked at the large stall shower and the oversized tub adjacent to it. Which did
he
use? Which would he use with
her? Would
he shower or bathe with her as they’d done so daringly at the inn?

Turning back to the sink, Abby reached for her makeup and analyzed what repairs were needed. The mirror reflected the image
of a young woman whose pale face and shadowed eyes betrayed the upheaval in her life during the past hours. Nothing could be done about the upheaval; the best she could do was to apply blusher to correct the pallor and put a touch of foundation under her eyes. It was a slight improvement.

Then she reached for her brush and worked through the thickness of her hair with long, even strokes, stopping only when it shone. Better.

Looking down, she tucked her silk blouse more neatly into the waistband of her soft wool skirt. Cream silk, loden wool. Not quite a wedding gown…but then, it didn’t really matter. The end result had been the same.

With that one thought, the weight of what she’d done hit her again, nearly negating her attempts to appear composed. Her stomach churned; her hands shook. Was she really married to Ben? Was she really
married?
In her wildest dreams, she never would have imagined the possibility when she’d left her home to do jury duty. Married! To Ben!…Bizarre!

Still edgy, she left the bedroom. There were phone calls to be made. She desperately needed to feel in touch with reality. Perhaps when she shared the news with her family and friends, it would make more sense.

Ben sat behind his desk in a study diagonally
down the hall from the bedroom. The chair was angled sideways, and he leaned far back in it, so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t see Abby at first.

“Ben?” she called softly.

His head swung around. As quickly, he sat forward. “I’m sorry. Have you been standing there long?”

“No. I just thought…maybe I should contact my friends. They’ll be worried when they find I’m not home.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh…sure. There’s a phone in the den. You can be comfortable there.”

“The den?” She pointed to her left.