Eloquent Silence

by Sandra Brown

  "Yeah, sure. Anything, Mr. Sloan." Now that he had the scoop of the week, Bob Scott was suddenly humble and obsequious.

  For the next few minutes Lauri suffered through having pictures taken with Drake, and a few with Jennifer. She felt like a fool, acting out a charade and agonizing over how they would undo the damage the story would create.

  Just as the reporter was packing up his gear, Betty Groves came running into the room from the kitchen. "What is going on, Lauri?" she asked with her characteristic breathlessness. "I saw all those cars in the driveway. We just got back from Albuquerque." Lauri had been glad that Betty was spending a few days with relatives. It had saved her from having to introduce Betty to her parents, which, under the circumstances, could have proved awkward.

  Now, as Betty stood there with her bright, curious grin and her round, flashing eyes, Lauri felt that she was in a bad dream that went on and on relentlessly. What else could happen? As if in answer to her question, Sam and Sally whirled into the room like miniature tornadoes and pounced on Jennifer, who greeted her friends with equal zest.

  "Who are all these people?" Betty asked over the children's squeals.

  Drake threw up his hands in a gesture of hopeless abdication and laughed loudly. Andrew and Alice stood up and walked over to Betty to introduce themselves.

  To add to the confusion Bob Scott was flashing pictures as quickly as his camera would allow.

  "Her parents?" Lauri heard Betty exclaim. "Well, nice to—"

  "…their wedding…" She heard her mother's voice.

  "…married…" That from Andrew.

  "God, what a mess." This from Drake, spoken under his breath.

  Then she was being embraced by Betty's plump arms. "You're married! Oh, Lauri! Drake! Oh, I'm so happy for you! I said all along – ask Jim if I didn't – that you two belonged together. I just knew you were in love! And little Jennifer! What did she think about it? Oh, I think I'm going to cry!" And with that, Betty burst into tears and cried copiously until long after Drake had escorted Bob Scott to his car.

  The grateful reporter promised the "happy couple" a front-page picture and the foldout story, complete with color pictures. Drake spoke in terse sentences as he nicely, but firmly, packed Mr. Scott into his car.

  Betty graciously offered to take Jennifer home with her for a while so Lauri, Drake, and the Parrishes could have a respite from all the excitement. The Parrishes went to their room to begin packing their things. They would need to leave within an hour to make the first meeting of the pastors' conference scheduled for that night.

  Lauri retreated upstairs and stripped off her clothes. She stepped into the shower and stood under the pounding pressure of the hot water, hoping it might relieve some of the pent-up tension.

  When she finally turned off the taps and opened the clear glass door to reach for a towel, she pulled herself up sharply when she saw Drake standing in the doorway watching her.

  She grabbed the towel and hugged it to her. "Don't bother. I've already seen everything there is to see," he said huskily and started toward her.

  "All right. I won't," Lauri declared harshly as she began to dry herself. Something in the angry set of her shoulders and chin halted him. She did the job thoroughly, mechanically, ignoring him, and that disconcerted him more than if she had run for cover.

  "I warned you once about walking around the house that way," he said.

  "I was taking a shower. I didn't expect an audience." When she finished drying herself, she took a pair of panties out of a drawer and stepped into them, easing them over her smooth, trim thighs. Drake leaned against the dressing table, never taking his eyes off her.

  She reached in the drawer and took out a lacy bra. Before she could put it on, he yanked it out of her hand and flung it to the floor. Her only reaction was to shrug indifferently and pull on her sweater without the benefit of the undergarment. Still taking no notice of him, she put on a pair of slacks she had brought with her into the bathroom.

  No sooner had she zipped them when Drake lunged at her and embraced her fiercely. His lips bruised hers as they crashed onto them. His hands wandered restlessly over her back. She employed every ounce of discipline she possessed not to respond to him and held herself rigid. Finally he lifted his head and said, "You're upset."

  She pushed away from him. "You might say that." Picking up a hairbrush, she began pulling it through her hair.

  "Things got a little out of hand, didn't they?" he asked after long moments of silence.

  "Yes, they did." She put the hairbrush down on the dressing table and faced him squarely. "Do you have any conception of the havoc you've wreaked on my life? My parents' life? Don't you care for anyone but yourself?" She drew a long, shuddering breath. "I'll apologize for my mother's blunder, though at least it was an honest mistake. None of this would have happened if you hadn't told that blatant lie in the first place." Her chin was tilted back in an angle of defiance.

  "Have I placed the blame with anyone else?" he asked quietly. "Is this where I should say something like 'Your sins will find you out' or 'You reap what you sow'?"

  "You always know your lines, don't you?" She stalked past him angrily on her way out of the bathroom, but his hand closed around her arm and drew her against him.

  "Lauri, you little firebrand. Always on the defensive, always spoiling for a fight. For once why don't you just surrender?" His lips brushed across her temple. "Hasn't it occurred to you that I might like the idea of everyone thinking you were my wife? It would certainly protect me from the gossip-mongers. And we could—"

  She shoved away from him with such force that he was stunned. "We could what?" she fairly screamed. "We could go on living in this make-believe world that you've constructed?" she laughed bitterly. "Your arrogance and conceit and insensitivity are a constant source of amazement to me, Drake. Do you think for one moment that I would pretend to be your wife?"

  He turned his back on her and thrust his bands in his pockets in a gesture she knew well. He used it to withdraw into himself. It revealed one small chink in the wall, a particle of vulnerability.

  "I had a wife," he muttered. "I told you—"

  "Oh, yes," she scoffed. "You told me all about your wife. You loved her. And now you want no emotional entanglements."

  She went up to his back and forcibly turned him around so he would have to face her. "Well, let me tell you something for a change. I don't want to be your wife, pretend or otherwise. I find your proposal unappealing, Mr. Sloan. And I can't for the life of me understand your persistent attempts to get me into your bed. Don't you think it will be crowded in there with you, me, and your wife's ghost?"

  The skin on his cheekbones stretched so tautly and the lines around his mouth hardened so visibly that Lauri was afraid he might strike her. He gripped her shoulders painfully and jerked her against him. She could feel the fury that boiled inside him.

  "Lauri, Drake, I'd like to speak with you both a moment if I may." Andrew's voice accompanied a timid knock on the bedroom door.

  It took several seconds for the interruption to penetrate Drake's rage, but slowly she felt the hands on her arms relax until he dropped them to his sides.

  "Daddy," she said waveringly, "what do you want?"

  "I hate to bother you, but it's important. At least to Mother and me it is."

  Lauri cast a wary eye over her shoulder at Drake as she went into the bedroom and said, "Come in."

  Andrew hastened into the room and apologized again for barging in on them. "We have to leave soon, and I wondered if you'd indulge the whim of an old man."

  Out of the corner of her eye, Lauri saw Drake come up to stand beside her. She crossed her arms over her chest as if for protection. "What is it, Daddy?" she asked in a deceptively calm voice.

  "I always felt that you and Paul would have had a better chance if you'd been married by me in our church. I know it's old-fashioned," he said hurriedly when she started to protest. "Please, Lauri, Drake, let me perform a bri
ef wedding ceremony for you before I leave."

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  «^»

  Lauri stared at her father, taking in the import of his words. Drake was standing close beside her. She could almost feel his eyes on the top of her head as they looked down at her. Her father was waiting for her to say something. She laughed nervously and said, "Daddy, that's not necessary."

  "I know that, Lauri, but please humor me. Your mother and I hated having you marry someone we had never met in a cold civil ceremony. When your marriage turned out to be so unhappy for you – and don't try to tell me it wasn't, I know it was – we felt responsible for not being more involved with you and your husband. This time, I want to be a part of your marriage, your family."

  His eyes softened, and he reached out and took her clammy hand in both of his. "It was always my greatest wish that I marry both you and Ellen. I performed her wedding ceremony, remember?" Tears were clogging her throat as she nodded. "Please let me sanction yours to Drake."

  Lauri tried to speak, but her chest was too congested; tears blurred her eyes. How she hated deceiving this kind, loving man who had given her life and wanted only her happiness. She opened her mouth to tell him the truth, but her lips felt rubbery and refused to be controlled.

  She felt the strong support of Drake's arm as he placed it around her shoulders. "We'd be honored, sir. I speak for both of us."

  "Good. Good," Andrew said, bringing his hands together in a hearty clasp that made a clapping sound. His gray eyes shone merrily. "I'll go tell Mother. She'll be so pleased. We'll be downstairs waiting for you." He left the room quickly and shut the door behind him.

  It was debatable who took the initiative, but Lauri found herself wrapped in Drake's arms with her face buried in the curve of his shoulder. All the frustration, anger, and guilt came pouring out in a torrent of tears until his shirt front was damp from the onslaught.

  He said nothing, but only lent his support and comfort. Stroking the auburn head and patting her back, he waited until her tears were spent and she rested against him, deflated and despairing.

  Her words were muffled as she spoke, and he lowered his head over hers in an effort to hear her. "I'm a hypocrite of the worst sort. I rail at you for the lie you told, but I perpetuate that lie with everything I do." She sniffed loudly. "It's just that I couldn't stand to hurt him."

  "Whether you believe this or not, and I doubt that you do, I don't want to see them disillusioned by me either. When I saw that you were trying to find the courage to tell him the truth, I couldn't let it happen. I had to intervene."

  He pushed her from him gently and wiped away the tears that still lingered on her cheeks. "Let's go through this wedding ceremony with dignity. We'll know it does not mean anything. It's not legal. Later on we'll figure out something to tell them." He saw a flash of anger flare in her eyes and anticipated its source. "I won't desert you. I'll take the responsibility too. Now, go wash your face. They're waiting for us." He kissed her lightly on the forehead before she went to restore her face.

  * * *

  "I now pronounce you man and wife. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder." Andrew intoned the words that, had it been legal, would have linked her life to Drake's. "You may kiss your bride, son."

  Drake placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him. His eyes traveled over her face, trying to read it before he leaned down and kissed her sweetly on the lips. It was a brief kiss, but it was potent, and Lauri felt its impact throughout her body.

  They were surrounded by Andrew and Alice, and Betty and the three children, who Alice had insisted be present. She had called Betty and told her to come over for the ceremony. Betty had cried through the short nuptials, but the children had stood quietly, listening in awe and watching Andrew's hands as he reverently signed the words for Jennifer's benefit. Likewise, Lauri and Drake had used sign for their vows.

  At any other time, Lauri would have thought it was the most beautiful marriage ceremony ever. Even if the setting and clothes weren't traditional, she discovered that as she said the vows to Drake, she meant them. It was a moving realization. She pledged him her love and faithfulness of body as well as of spirit, and it wasn't because the witnesses expected her to say the correct words. It was because she wanted to say them to Drake and have him know that she meant them.

  Her lips verbalized what her heart already knew. This deep, unbearable, sweet longing she felt for Drake was love. Love. Yes, she loved him. She could see his faults, and recognize his temperament, but they didn't change her feelings. He provoked her anger as no one else could, but still she loved him.

  It would be in vain, Lauri cautioned herself. For he had loved once – he had loved deeply and eternally – and there was no room in his heart for any other woman except the dead Susan. He had been honest with Lauri; she could be no less. She confessed her love, if not to him, then to herself.

  Drake kissed Betty soundly on the mouth and she swooned theatrically. Then he was laughing and hugging Alice and shaking hands with Andrew who thumped him on the back. He knelt down and lifted Jennifer in his arms and snuggled her against him, tickling her cheek with his mustache, an action that always made her giggle.

  One would almost believe that this was a happy occasion for everyone until they saw the bride's face. It was pale, and periodically her whole body would shudder as if she were trying forcibly to keep a tight rein on her emotions.

  A short time later the Parrishes took their leave. Their luggage had been placed in the trunk of the rental car, and they stood on the front porch saying their final goodbyes.

  Alice had tears in her eyes as she kissed Jennifer, who returned the kiss without reservation. Lauri embraced her parents in turn, clinging to them as if they were a lifeline. When they were in the car and it was moving down the steep lane leading from the house, they waved and called good-byes and promises to telephone and write. And all the while Drake stood beside Lauri, playing the loving husband. In one arm he held Jennifer. The other was secure around Lauri's waist.

  "Boy, what a day, Jennifer," Drake said with a sigh as he collapsed on the sofa and lifted his daughter onto his lap. "Lauri, don't cook anything for dinner. Let's snack tonight. I know you must be tired too."

  "All right, Drake. I'll just put a few things out." She went into the kitchen hastily. Why was she suddenly nervous about being in the same room with him?

  After they had eaten the light meal, Jennifer was bathed and put to bed. She had been wearied by the events of the day and began to show her fatigue during mealtime, when she became petulant.

  Lauri was relieved when the querulous child was tucked in for the night. She returned to the kitchen to load the dishwasher, but saw that Drake had preceded her. The job was almost finished.

  "You shouldn't have bothered, Drake. I would have cleaned this up."

  He smiled over his shoulder. "You had Jennifer to cope with. I took the easy way out."

  "She was exhausted. It's unlike her to behave so badly, especially when you're around. I hope she's not getting sick."

  He laughed as he came up to her and put his arms around her. "You sound just like a mother," he whispered roughly into her hair.

  "Do I?" she asked coolly. She pushed away from him and went to the kitchen sink, acting busy as she filled a glass with water and brought it to her lips.

  He was undaunted by her lack of response and came up behind her, bracing himself against the countertop by placing his hands on either side of her. With his nose he pushed the hair on her neck out of his way and began to tease her skin with love bites.

  "Drake—"

  "This is so incredibly soft," he murmured. A thrill shot through her when she felt the tip of his tongue caressing the back of her earlobe.

  "Please, Drake—" She struggled to turn around, and when he did relent, it was only to allow her to face him. Now her hips were pressed against the counter, and he held her imprisoned with his solid body.

>   He took her hands and placed them on his chest, flattening her palms until she could feel the beat of his heart, the warmth that radiated from his skin, and the crinkling texture of his chest hair under the soft fabric.

  "Lauri, do you realize that in some cultures the marriage isn't even considered legal until the couple is married in church and the union blessed by God? In that case we are married. Civil ceremonies often count for nothing."

  His hands were sifting through her hair. He settled his fingers on her scalp and massaged her temples with his thumbs in a mesmerizing rhythm.

  Starting at her forehead, he kissed it with tenderness before moving over her closed eyelids to her cheeks. Each kiss was slow and deliberate, as if he were embedding his lips in her skin.

  He sipped at her lips, tempting them, tantalizing them, before he took them completely under his. His tongue didn't countenance the barrier of lips and teeth as he gratified its driving desire to plunder her mouth. He moved against her. It was physically apparent that his kiss only symbolized an all-consuming desire to possess her totally.

  Her legs had been rendered useless by his entrapment; the muscles in them had turned to water. But her arms were imbued with strength as she slid them up his chest and closed them around his neck. She moved closer yet, feeling his hard length in delicious contrast to the soft contours of her own body. She was again made aware of that perfect fit, the complement of his maleness to her femaleness.

  "Lauri," he rasped, "you suspend me somewhere between Heaven and Hell. But I swear that this Hell is sweeter than anything I've ever known." He ravaged her neck, but she was a willing victim, submitting to his lips and teeth and tongue, which seemed to know her with more intimacy than she knew herself. They didn't seek vulnerable spots, but knew them instinctively and went to them directly and with unflagging purpose.

  She could be his wife in every sense of the word. She wanted to be, and in her mind she already was. Morally her conscience was clear. Before God and a licensed minister, she had pledged her life and love to this man. Nothing could shake her conviction that the vows she had made to him were valid and binding.