The Great Escape: A Vintage Contemporary Romance

by Thea Harrison

  “And of course they weren’t to know just how I escaped the second time, and that you’d helped me. But, Mike, I still don’t understand. I still don’t know why you did it. How could you do that to me?”

  He rubbed his face tiredly with one hand and stared over it at a group of chattering people walking by. She knew that he wasn’t really seeing them. “Maybe my thinking was wrong. I don’t pretend to be right. I just did what I thought would be the best in the situation I found myself in. I wanted your guardians to believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’d been betrayed, and I didn’t have the time or the safety to test your acting abilities. No one could have acted that bitter, stunned look in your eyes this morning. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you—I knew that you’d handle yourself well in any situation. I just had to be sure of your guardians’ reaction. Everything depended on that, everything. If they’d doubted for one minute the utter reality of the situation, they could have taken you away legally and gotten off scot-free.”

  He’d thought of everything. He’d been far ahead of her the whole time. And it had been she who had betrayed him. “So I was the one who really didn’t trust, then,” she said sadly. Mike stared at her. She explained, “I should have known better than to think you would have given me to my aunt and uncle, and I should have searched for a reason right away instead of believing the surface facts. Oh, Mike, I’m sorry!”

  “Oh, no—don’t, sweetheart, please. How could you know to trust me that way? You’d learned to trust what I told you, and I said to your face that I’d betrayed you. And if you hadn’t believed me right away, I’d have lied and told you anything but the truth. It hurt to see you looking so wounded! I won’t forgive myself for that. Even if everything has worked out successfully, that was terribly wrong of me. It’s I who am sorry, Dee.”

  She smiled at him and put a finger to his lips. “No more self-accusations, please!” she murmured. “I think we’re going to have to agree to differ on this issue, because I think I should have had more faith in you than I did. It was such an obvious contradiction! You were asking me last night to have faith in yourself and not just humanity. You didn’t have to say it in words. I caught what you were really saying to me, and I failed you. I won’t ever doubt you again.”

  Her eyes fell and her face became suddenly so unhappy and uncertain that he was moved to ask, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  She looked away, troubled. “Nothing, not really. Only—oh, Mike, I do wish I knew what was going to happen to me now!” And in the silence that fell between them, as she waited for the reassurance that didn’t come, she began to feel really frightened at what the future would bring.

  Because she knew then. He wouldn’t want to see her any more. This really was the beginning of the end.

  Chapter Ten

  Dee stood nervously before a mirror, straightened her dress, patted her hair, then straightened her dress again. She laughed ruefully at her reflection. Today was like every other day. Today was not so different. She felt just like she had yesterday. It was foolish, the importance that was put on a certain day as opposed to any other day of the year.

  Today was her birthday. She was eighteen, a legal adult. She came into a hell of a lot of money today, though the real power of her inheritance did not come to her until she was twenty-one. Today she was either going to gain a world of happiness or lose it for ever.

  It would be the biggest gamble of her life.

  She checked her slim gold watch for the fiftieth time. Everyone would be here in about an hour. Then she checked her reflection again, restlessly. Her gaze sharpened on herself as she realised the incredible amount of changes that she’d been through in the last eleven months. There was an expression about her eyes, an almost indefinable sense of something there, a hint of capability perhaps, or a touch of calm efficiency. It wasn’t surface appearance; she felt in control of herself, and that had been one of the hardest lessons she’d learned in the last year. She looked—strong.

  Yes, she thought, I’ve changed. What a strange thing it is, this involuntary emotional impulse the world calls love! It comes from nowhere and it takes one by surprise, and it grabs hold of the heart so securely it’s impossible to shake loose. It wouldn’t matter if we married, or didn’t marry, or if we would marry and eventually get a divorce—or if I would never see him again. I love him. All throughout the changes and the pains and highs and lows of my life, that one fact will remain immutable. It may change through the years as I change, but it will never die. Though you may build a life all by yourself or perhaps with someone else, and though you may have some happiness in your life, how could you ever forget that special one you cared for, loved?

  She shook her head bemusedly. It was an unanswerable question to her, just as the very emotion that she was experiencing was incomprehensible to her. She did not know where it came from or why. All that she knew or cared to know was that she loved.

  She checked her watch again and sighed. Aimlessly she travelled from room to room in her huge, spacious, beautiful home as she waited. The darkness that had been her depression was gone. The house was home again. She could look and remember the happiness and the love that she had shared with her family with nostalgia and a misty smile, and yet the keen edge of grief was gone, along with the unhappiness.

  So much had happened in the past month and a half! Her mind still spun with the whirlwind events that had crowded her life lately. At least Judith and Howard and their accomplices had been taken care of. Certainly she would never have to see them again, and that was a huge relief.

  Mr. Whittaker, her solicitor and legal guardian for the past several weeks, had been wonderfully kind. He had graciously allowed her the respect and consideration she had craved, and though he went out of his way to see her several times a week, dining over at the house more often than not and spending long hours with her on the subject of her money management, he had not insisted that she move in with him and had not questioned her authority in running the house. She was given the right to act on her own discretion and judgment, like any other adult, and she had responded accordingly, growing fond of the man.

  A pang of uncertainty and apprehension quivered through her and her palms were so damp that she wiped them down her skirt, grimacing. Then, running down the stairs with her silken black skirt swirling around her slim legs, she checked in the large, elegant dining room to see if the room was ready. It was, with plates set on the antique sideboard for refreshments and on the other side of the room a table set up with various drinks, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic. Then she slipped into the kitchen to keep Mary company.

  One of the things that Dee had done right away after coming home was to look up the housekeeper who had been with the Jansons ever since she could remember. She’d been in luck; Mary hadn’t taken another position but instead had spent the time staying with her sister and “taking a rest”. It had been a joyous reunion and Mary, plump and greying, had eagerly agreed to come back to her former position. It was, she had said, what she’d always wanted. And so she lived with Dee and was more of a friend and companion than paid servant. It was wonderful having her back.

  Hands moving quickly over the trays of refreshments that she was finishing, Mary glanced up quickly and nodded her approval to Dee. “You look just beautiful, sweetie, but do you really think black is quite the thing to wear to your own birthday party?”

  Dee threw back her head and laughed. “I hadn’t even thought of it! I just picked the dress because I liked it best of all the clothes I bought last week. Do you think it’s inappropriate?” She looked down at herself, slightly crestfallen. She didn’t want to change.

  “Oh, no! It’s simply gorgeous on you and you know it!” Mary plunked down a tray noisily and threw some utensils into the large sink. Whenever she was particularly happy, she made quite a lot of noise, happily throwing pots and pans around and usually singing at the top of her tone-deaf voice. She’d been quite noisy, of late. “It makes you look real e
legant, and it slims your figure down nice, too. That wide belt makes your waist look so tiny, I bet I could span my hands around it! You don’t eat enough, my girl. I’m planning on fixing that right away. Just wait until you see what’s for supper!”

  Dee cowered obligingly in the face of the huge carving knife that Mary brandished cheerfully. “But do you think I should put up my hair?” she asked uncertainly. “Or does it look all right down?”

  “You look just fine, except you’re too pale. Why don’t you put some blusher on, for heaven’s sake?” Mary scrutinised Dee’s face with an easiness born of familiarity.

  “I did,” Dee grumbled good-naturedly, putting up an involuntary hand to one cheek. “Should I put more on, do you think?”

  “Well, it certainly couldn’t hurt.” The older woman paused as she eyed the younger girl in front of her and continued musingly, “Strange sort of birthday party you’re having, not knowing many of the people coming and most of them older than you by many years. Not quite what I would call fun, but then,” sniff, “I guess as it’s not my birthday, I can’t be complainin’.”

  “But I’ve already told you, Mary,” Dee explained patiently, “it’s not really a birthday party. It’s just a meeting of certain people because it’s my birthday, not especially for it. You’ll see.”

  She received a suspicious stare. “Why will I see?”

  “Because I want you to be there. Some of what we’ll be discussing involves you, so you’d better hurry—and put on a pretty dress, because you’ll be joining us!” She skittered for the door before Mary could get out any of the astonished expostulations that her opening and closing mouth was forming soundlessly.

  Dee ran up the stairs again, nimble in spite of the high-heeled black shoes she wore, and after peering into the mirror as if she expected a nasty surprise, she grabbed her blusher compact and touched a bit more colour along her cheekbones. It was an improvement. Her watch revealed that it was a quarter till three and guests should be arriving soon.

  Another wave of pure nervousness hit her and she clasped trembling hands in front of her tightly. Strangely enough, she wasn’t nervous about the unknown people that she was about to meet. What was sending her into a near panic was the thought of what Mike’s reaction to her surprise was going to be. She had no idea what he would do.

  The past several weeks had been strange in more ways than one. She’d continued to see Mike frequently and he more often than not dined over at the house along with Mr. Whittaker, becoming good friends with the older man. But they were both occupying a strange sort of never-never-land, not really furthering their relationship and not really breaking things off.

  One night, not long after the climatic confrontation with her former guardians, Mike had stayed for supper and afterwards they had spent some time in the small, intimate family room. Dee had snuggled closer to him and, after an apparent hesitation, he had put his arm around her. But eventually he had gently repelled her tentative advances, saying only that he thought that they both needed some time to reassess their lives and goals. Now that life would be going on more or less normally, they both needed breathing space.

  No matter how gentle the rejection had been, it had still been rejection, and not only a sexual one but a repulsion of the closeness they had shared. It still hurt to think of that night, and the hurt was bottled up with all her uncertainties and insecurities. He had continued to see her with every sign of affection and gladness, and that had been nice and good, but that night still stood between them like a huge brick wall that she slammed into every time. Mike was wonderfully supportive, attentive, stimulating and provoking, but she couldn’t quite act normal around him, self-consciousness making her feel awkward. Theirs was a bizarre combination of affectionate, intimate friendship, and a wary keeping of distance. It was nerve-racking, to say the least. He seemed to be waiting for something, but what she couldn’t say.

  Well, today was the last day. She wouldn’t wait any longer.

  She looked out her bedroom window and could see a car approaching. It was dark green. Mike was early. It would be nice not to have to face all the strangers alone. Mike had no idea of what was going to happen any more than the others. Only she and Mr. Whittaker knew. Dee skipped down the stairs and opened the front door before he had knocked. She smiled up into his lean, serious face.

  “You’re the first,” she said, slightly breathless from both her hurry and from excitement. “I’m glad. Come on in.” She stepped back so that he could enter.

  He looked good, very good. He wore an expensive-looking grey tailored suit with a crisp white shirt and a dark grey tie. His dark hair was combed neatly back and rested well against his nicely shaped head. It revealed the grace of bodyline from his jaw to his temple, down to the nape of his neck and beyond to the powerful curve of his back. As she stared at him, taking in the green brilliance of his gleaming eyes against his dark face, Dee felt a quiver of pure sexual awareness and longing pierce her and had to turn away in order to hide her face.

  Then she was walking briskly down the hall and talking busily, moving so fast that she didn’t see the hand he had stretched out to her and the movement he had made to speak. He watched her a moment, his eyes almost reluctantly appreciative of her slim graceful figure moving down the hall. Then as she paused and glanced curiously back, he gave a small, wry shrug and smiled as he joined her. She fell silent as he approached.

  “You look beautiful,” he told her softly, touching her cheek with a finger. “But then you look beautiful every day. Really, though, was black absolutely necessary?”

  “What is this?” she cried, laughing up into his face. “Everyone thinks my black dress has some sort of deep symbolic significance! I honestly put it on because I like how it looks.”

  One brow cocked, thoughtfully, and his eyes travelled leisurely down her entire length, making her flush delicately. “Yes, well,” he drawled, “I do see what you mean. Is it new?”

  “Mm, yes. I splurged and bought some new clothes last week. Talk about feeling guilty!” she gurgled merrily, swinging away and travelling around the room they had entered, unable to keep still. “I’ve learned thrifty habits in Ohio. It was a chore and a wrench to see all my hard-earned money go on clothes when I was trying so hard to save money for college, and the feeling stuck! Oh, well, it’s a nice habit to get into, I suppose!”

  He had a curious look on his face, she saw, as she turned a smiling glance his way. “Strange indeed. I’m sure the money you spent wouldn’t even make a dent in the inheritance you receive today.”

  Sensitive on the subject, Dee flushed again, but this time from annoyance. “That’s all you can think about, isn’t it?” she demanded, upset. “My stupid money. That’s all anyone can think about, it seems! God, just when I think I’ve found someone who’ll like me just for myself and nothing else, they catch a whiff of that filthy rich stink that somehow hovers around me like a poisonous gas, and suddenly that’s all they can think about! You’re like all the rest—” Unable to go on, she turned and stared stonily at the wall, her slim foot tapping out her temper on the hard wood floor.

  “Will you just stop it!” In two strides Mike was right beside her, turning her forcibly around and shaking her slightly. A thrill of shock and something else rippled through her at his obvious agitation. “I meant nothing of the sort! I merely made a comment on how ironic your reaction was when today is the day you come into a fortune! It’s an obvious subject, not something I dwell on day and night!” The frustration welled up in his eyes and two grim lines cut down the sides of his mouth. His hands tightened on her and then he made an obvious effort to relax. His hands fell away. “Don’t let’s quarrel on your birthday, Dee. It shouldn’t be. You should be happy. Look,” and his hand went to his pocket to pull out a small wrapped package, “I’ve brought you a present.” He offered it to her.

  Unable to resist his gesture of peace and his coaxing smile, Dee smiled and reached out, but instead of taking the present that
lay in his hand, she cupped his hand with both of her own and squeezed affectionately. “I told you not to buy me anything,” she scolded, but the scolding was a gentle one accompanied by a glance she couldn’t quite resist at the gaily wrapped parcel.

  He laughed deeply and pressed it into her hands. “Now, I knew that to be obviously insincere. What woman in the world doesn’t like to open a present? Go on—open it. I think we have the time now.”

  She looked at the package and then peeped up into his face with the beginnings of a twinkle. Then, giving up to the delight of the special unknown quality that wraps every present with the magic of delight, she laughed. “Oh, all right! But you didn’t really have to, you know. I was just happy to have you here today.” Then her fingers went nimbly to the package’s edges, coaxing the paper apart with a careful anticipation that made the man beside her smile to himself. The wrapping was off and discarded without another glance, and she turned the velvet box over and over in her hands with a pleasant puzzling. Jewelery? Her fingers went to the side and pulled the box open gently, and as she as she saw what was inside she gave a gasp of horror and delight. Nestled in the brown velvet inside the box was a glittering, dazzling pure green emerald pendant necklace. The stone was not so large as it was simply perfect, and it seemed to catch the ray of the sunlight that filtered into the airy room, throwing them back again with a magnificent glow. “Oh, dear lord, Mike! This is—well, it’s—it’s just gorgeous, but it’s too—”