The Widow and the Wastrel (14 page)

"I—I'm all right," Elizabeth murmured, trying to withdraw her grazed elbow from Jed's hold.

"She fell down," Amy explained.

"So I noticed," Jed murmured dryly, completely ignoring Allan who hovered to one side, his position usurped by the firm authority that had accompanied Jed's arrival. "Is your middle name Grace?"

The pink intensified in her cheeks. "I simply misjudged the step."

"Did you twist your ankle?" His fingers scorched an inquisitive trail along her shinbone to her ankle.

"I may not be a practising physician, but I am a doctor," Allan inserted sharply, trying to reassert his position as Elizabeth's rescuer.

"And I've probably treated more injuries and illnesses than you have," Jed snapped. Evidently satisfied that there was no indication of a sprain, he slipped a supporting arm around her waist. "Let's get you on your feet."

"I'm all right," Elizabeth repeated.

"Heavens, Jed, there isn't anything wrong with her," Barbara cut in. "Allan can take care of her."

The blonde's comment wasn't even acknowledged as Jed lifted Elizabeth to her feet. She didn't know whether to blame the light headedness on the fall or the steel band holding her so close to his lean, muscular hips and thighs. The malevolent dislike in Barbara's cold blue eyes did make her reel instinctively toward Jed in search of protection. His arms tightened around her.

"I'll carry you to the car," he stated, sliding his other arm under the back of her legs and easily swinging her off her feet.

Unfortunately for the man standing toward the back of the crowd, the faint buzz of concerned voices stopped just as he murmured to a friend, "I bet he's carried her to far more intimate and comfortable places than that!"

A rigid stillness entered Jed's features as dangerous cat-gold eyes narrowed unerringly on the man who had made the jeering comment. The ruthless set of his jaw was intimidating. Elizabeth shivered uncontrollably when he slowly lowered her to her feet.

"I believe you owe the lady an apology, Mick." Jed spoke with ominous softness.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Jed." The man named Mick shifted uncomfortably, as the crowd parted between the two men.

The air crackled, invisible electricity snapping at coiled nerves. The arm Jed had kept around her waist was a suffocating iron band. Elizabeth knew he wasn't aware of the force he was applying. She also knew Jed wouldn't relent from his stand until the man had apologized for his slighting remark.

"Please." Jed paid no notice to her request for his attention, so Elizabeth turned to Mick. "There's no need for you to apologize," she insisted with quiet pride. "You were only voicing the suspicions of everyone here in this town. I can't expect you to be the only one to apologize."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carrel." His gaze skittered across her face to Jed's and fell away.

"Here's your packages, Mrs. Carrel." Another one of the group stepped forward to hand her the packages that had fallen to the street.

Jed took them before Elizabeth had a chance, giving one to Amy. "You're big enough to carry this." The other he retained while keeping an arm firmly circling Elizabeth's waist. She couldn't very well protest without causing more comment. Besides, she partially welcomed his strong support.

"Elizabeth, let me take you to the hospital," Allan offered quietly. "You should have those grazes cleaned and disinfected."

The crowd had begun to thin, the excitement over. The sting in her scraped elbows was becoming more pronounced, but Elizabeth's only wish was to leave—as quickly as possible.

"It's really not necessary," she refused with a weakly polite smile.

"They should be taken care of," he reiterated.

"I'll see to it," Jed said firmly. His jaw was still clenched, the savage anger not yet fully abated.

"What about me?" Barbara demanded.

"I'll see you later." The light had changed again and Jed was pushing Amy to start across the street to the car, not at all concerned or interested in Barbara's indignant outburst.

"I might be busy," she retorted haughtily.

Except for a cynical twist of his mouth, there was no reaction from Jed as he began half carrying, half guiding Elizabeth across the street. Secretly Elizabeth thought he was mocking Barbara's boldly false statement that she might reject him. It was disturbing to acknowledge that he was right. There were very few women who wouldn't take him back. And she had the dreadful feeling she was among them, and it was a severe blow to her pride.

"Well, you've done it now, little miss diplomat," Jed snapped as he slammed the car door shut. "Where are the keys?"

Elizabeth fumbled nervously through her bag and handed them to him. Huddling next to the door, she heard the motor spring to life, growling with all the suppressed power of its driver.

"I didn't do anything wrong. Unless you call avoiding a fight wrong?" she challenged defensively.

"Whether you like it or not, you've been labeled as my property." As they left the city limits, he accelerated until the car was whizzing by the telephone poles at an alarming rate.

"What does that mean?" Amy leaned forward over Elizabeth's seat.

But Elizabeth chose to ignore the question. "If I have, it's due just as much to your actions," she retorted.

"Because I chose to take offence on your behalf at that man's remarks?" Jed mocked, quirking a brow briefly in her direction. "Did it ever occur to you that I might have been defending your "good name," there was a definite sarcasm in the last, "as my sister-in-law and not as—" He glanced in the back seat to Amy's expression of round-eyed interest and didn't finish the sentence.

"What does it mean, Momma? How can you be Uncle Jed's property? I thought you couldn't own people?" Amy persisted, taking advantage of the slight lull in the conversation.

"You can't own people," Elizabeth replied with brittle patience.

"Then what does it mean?"

"It's like going steady, Amy," Jed answered this time with the same controlled tone. "We aren't supposed to date anyone else but each other. That's what I mean."

"Mom can't go out with anyone but you? Not even Mr. Marsden?"

"That's right," Jed clipped.

"Good!" Amy declared with one vigorous nod of satisfaction. "I don't like him very much."

"Amy!" Elizabeth's outcry was automatic.

But Jed had thrown his head back and was laughing. The deep, hearty sound was contagious. It played with the corners of Elizabeth's mouth until she too began laughing.

"Oh, Amy!" Jed shook his head with a sobering sigh as he turned the car into the house lane. "You're a treasure. Let's get your mother's arm fixed up, then see if we can persuade your grandmother to let us have lunch outside."

"Like a picnic? Terrific!" Amy agreed. "But Grandmother hates to eat outside, There's too many bugs.

"No worry," Elizabeth was still smiling. "Your grandmother won't be here for lunch today. It's—" An expression of dismay swept across her face. "Oh, Amy, it's Thursday! Your piano lesson."

"Oh, Mom, no!" Amy wailed.

"Come on, Liza." Jed switched the motor off and turned to her. "What's one piano lesson in a lifetime of piano lessons?" he chided gently. "Call her teacher and tell her the car won't start."

"Please, Mom," Amy echoed, adding her persuasions to those of her advocate.

"What if we eat later after your piano lesson?" Elizabeth suggested. "You can skip practising this time and we'll still have our lunch outdoors, if you like."

"Instead of that," Jed countered, "why don't you let Amy practise for half an hour while you’re getting lunch and skip the lesson?"

"Wouldn't that be just as good, Mom, please?"

"Well, all right," Elizabeth agreed finally, glowing a bit under the admiring wink Jed bestowed on her. Amy's shriek of gladness forced her to add a cautioning note, "But only if you practise for half an hour."

"I will!" her daughter promised fervently, pushing open the door and hopping out of the car. "I'll start right now."

She was ready to race for the house when Jed whistled her to a stop. "Don't go in empty-handed," he told her. "Take one of the packages."

Grabbing one of the packages from the back seat, Amy was careering, toward the front door again, not waiting for Jed and Elizabeth. He tucked the remaining two packages under his arm and stepped from the car when Elizabeth did.

"You would have thought I'd given her the moon," she smiled ruefully after her daughter.

"Playing hookey is always fun, even if you have permission." His lazy smile was captivating as he fell into step beside her.

"I've heard you were an expert at playing hookey," she teased.

"I probably was absent as much as I was present," he admitted with a twinkle. "Absolutely incorrigible" was the way the truant officer described me. I'm not exactly proud of it, but I probably learned earlier than most how to apply what school had taught me to the realities of living."

"I remember," Elizabeth murmured with a flash of recall, "your father once said that you had a very analytical and logical mind and that you could have been a brilliant lawyer if you weren't so—" she hesitated.

"Incorrigible," he supplied mockingly. "When did he make that concession that I might possibly have some brains?"

"Shortly after Jeremy was killed." He held the front door open for her. "I think he was really hoping you would come back then."

"To his way of life." There was a bitter, downward twist to his mouth. "Come on, let's get your arm cleaned."

"I'm sure he only wanted what he thought was best for you," she murmured.

"I have no doubt he meant well." Jed motioned her toward a kitchen chair and walked to the cabinet where the first-aid kit was kept. "I forgave him for his intentions a long time ago. The trouble is he never forgave me for choosing my own style of life."

In the next instant, antiseptic was burning the scrape on her elbow. Her quickly drawn gasp of pain brought an apologetic smile, but Jed continued until it was clean. By then the conversation was forgotten and Amy was faithfully at the piano practising.

While Jed disappeared to wash, Elizabeth telephoned Mrs. Banks, Amy's piano teacher. Thankfully the woman accepted her explanation. Elizabeth hadn't pretended any car trouble, merely stating that Amy wouldn't be keeping her lesson today.

Working in the kitchen had always been satisfying to her, but she discovered there was a special contentment within as she set about fixing the noon meal for just the three of them. When she spied Jed standing on the patio, she realized it was the way she wanted it to be for always.

The depth of her love for the lean, virile man standing out there frightened her. She knew she had jumped into very deep water. For the present Jed was holding on to her. But what would she do if he ever let go? With Jeremy, she had only been playing in the shallows. Now she was in over her head.

Elizabeth turned from the window, fighting back the panic that nearly sent her racing to Jed's arms seeking some reassurance that he cared with more than just physical passion. The agonizing pain of the morning was vividly recalled, that twisting, sickening jealousy when she had seen him with Barbara. And Barbara expected to see him again today.

It was difficult to regain the sensation of contentment. Tensely Elizabeth waited all through lunch for the moment Jed would say he was going. While she cleared the table, Amy persuaded him to play a game of croquet. Elizabeth sensed that behind his laughter and his teasing conversation with her daughter, his mind was thinking of something or someone else. It was difficult to know if it was her imagination.

The game was over with Jed the winner when Elizabeth finished washing up the lunch dishes. She brought a fresh pitcher of lemonade with her as she returned to the patio. Jed was just leaning back in one of the lounge chairs when he saw her.

"You read my mind," he smiled lazily. "We'll drink that whole pitcherful before this afternoon is over, It's going to be hot."

She steadied her shaking hand as she poured him a glass. "What about Barbara?" Elizabeth tried to sound nonchalant.

"What about her?" After wiping the beads of perspiration from his forehead, he took the glass, sipping it appreciatively.

"Isn't she expecting you this afternoon?"

He ran an amused eye over her face, as if sensing the underlying urgency in her question. "It wasn't anything definite." He leaned his head back against the cushion, running the ice-cold glass along his temple. "Besides, it's too hot to play tennis this afternoon."

"Is that what you were going to do?" Elizabeth murmured.

"What did you think?" Jed mocked, examining her downcast gaze over the brim of his glass.

"I didn't think," she answered, looking anywhere but at him. She didn't actually believe Barbara planned to play tennis all afternoon and certainly not if she had Jed all to herself.

"Liar," he taunted. "I think I detected a tint of jealous green in your eyes just then."

"You…you must have been imagining it."

"That's a pity." Jed closed his eyes against the sun, amusement teasing the corners of his mouth. "Since I made my preference for the company of the young widow Carrel and her daughter instead of the pleasures of her friend so obvious, I foolishly hoped she might unbend from her straightlaced ways enough to admit that she wanted mine."