Sweet Pretender

by Virginia Hart

  So that was it. Arlene was always meeting somebody. "You haven't known whoever-he-is long enough to care very much about him. You can't even have made a true judgment of his character."

  "Oh?" The girl raised her chin and looked down the length of her nose. "You're a fine one to talk, after what you've been up to."

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "Miss Innocent. You've only met Brian a couple of times, and if that wasn't Romeo and Juliet I heard outside my door last night, I'll eat that dress, ruffles and all."

  "You should have lived in another age, baby sister. You can see romance in a pepperoni pizza."

  Her sister flopped back on the pillow and patted a place beside her on the bed. "Let me tell you about the man I met. Todd's witty and handsome and sincere, and—"

  "Enough chatter." Melissa decided against worrying. Her sister fell out of love more quickly than she fell in. So far no male had ever been around long enough to take the place of her first love—music. "I don't know how I'll ever get ready in time for the dance as it is."

  "I knew I could count on you." The younger girl's face looked especially pixieish when her hair was done in all-over ribbon curlers. She also looked a mite smug.

  Melissa froze with a hand on the door. "Count on me for what?"

  "To fix it with Natalie so I don't have to wear that horrid Goldilocks costume for the piano recital."

  "Arlene!"

  "Shh!" The girl pressed a finger to her lips. "I'm Jean, remember? And you'd better get moving. You do look a fright."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "So Jean doesn't care for the dress we chose together when we were shopping?" Natalie asked, fluttering her fingers to dry her freshly applied nail polish.

  "She feels that it's too young for her. Frankly, I agree."

  "How odd." The woman lifted one spidery thin eyebrow. She'd already applied her makeup, and her eyelids were glittery and golden. "It wasn't until she consulted with you that she decided it wasn't right."

  "She didn't want to hurt your feelings."

  "How sweet." Natalie laughed, but there was no mirth in it. "You've always made decisions for her, haven't you? It must be extremely painful to see her grow away from you."

  Melissa felt a warming through her cheeks. It meant her color was rising along with her temper. "The tags are still attached to the dress. If you have the receipt there shouldn't be any trouble with returning it. If you like, I'd be glad to handle it for you."

  "I'm sure you would. You want her to believe that any choice she makes without you is wrong."

  "That's nonsense. If you'd only—"

  "Naturally I cannot force her to wear the dress. You've won. This time." Natalie's voice rose dramatically to drown out Melissa's protest. "But from now on, kindly remember that you are an uninvited guest in this house. Stop your meddling."

  "What you're suggesting is—"

  "I will not hear any more." The woman rose, pressing her hands to her temples. "I will not allow you to upset me tonight of all nights."

  "I'm not trying to—"

  "Ladies!" Brian burst through the door as if he were in a play and someone had just given him his cue. It was an obvious attempt at rescue. The gaiety in his voice by no means matched the concern in his eyes. "Time grows short. Hadn't you better slip into your finery?"

  "I'm not given to violence," Melissa murmured when Natalie had flitted past and up the stairs. "But in another minute, I'd have grabbed her and shaken out all the hairpins from that elegant hairdo."

  "Another time, kitten," he said, "and I'd pay admission to see it. But tonight… the show must go on."

  "What am I doing here?"

  "You're being a caring sister and a good friend. Can you try and pretend none of this happened? For your sister's sake?"

  Melissa squeezed the hand that reached for hers. "I can try."

  "Good girl."

  Melissa made her way upstairs and was on her way to her room when Arlene's door opened a crack. "Wear your white," the girl sang.

  "I'd planned to wear my green."

  "Please. I'm wearing my turquoise and we'd clash. Besides, you look smashing in white. Natalie's gown is black and it'll be a study in contrasts."

  "Will she wear her peaked hat and carry her broom, too?"

  Arlene drew herself up and sniffed. "How dare you say such thing about my dear, darling mother."

  "Easily." Melissa sighed. "Who leads whom around by the nose?"

  "How's that again?"

  "Never mind, pet. I'll see you later."

  Melissa's white dress was a perfect fit, and as usual Arlene was right. It was more daring than anything else she owned, but it was very becoming. It bared one smooth golden shoulder and its side splits showed a ladylike but tantalizing expanse of shapely leg as she walked. The starkness of the clinging crepe de chine made her hair look raven and brought out the jade green of her eyes.

  She and her sister emerged from their rooms simultaneously and showered compliments on each other. The younger girl's hair was a gleaming cap of curls. Her turquoise dress was styled like a Roman toga. Her shoes were silvery straps, and a wide band of silver circled her waist. She looked more beautiful than Melissa had ever seen her look before.

  Natalie looked very glamorous, too, Melissa had to admit. The black dress fit like a second skin until it flared at the knee. She didn't have an excess ounce. Her golden hair, slick and smooth, was fastened with an outsized clip of gold and pearls.

  Brian, looking dashing in a white dinner jacket and tie, gave a low appreciative whistle.

  "You aren't so bad yourself, Unc," Arlene said, tickling him under the chin. "Be sure and save a dance for your poor little old niece."

  "If I can fight my way through the mob of admirers."

  The car wound inland through meadowland and woods until it turned through a gateway, where a guard in a booth took their names and allowed them entrance. At the end of a tree-lined driveway sat the house, every window ablaze with lights. When they got out of the car, a red-jacketed young man whisked it out of sight. Strains of "Smoke Gets in your Eyes" drew them up the flagstone path to the wide porch.

  Natalie, guiding her "daughter" before her, put on a gleaming smile and swept through the open doors, hugging and kissing everyone in sight. Brian and Melissa tagged behind, left to their own devices.

  The hostess was a woman in her sixties with dark, silver-streaked hair and very white skin. The enormous emerald pendant she wore and her vivid green dress only accentuated her pallor. "Natalie," she said. "You haven't changed a whit."

  "Why, thank you, Mrs. Havelock," Natalie gushed, though Melissa would have bet, judging from the older woman's flat tone, that she hadn't meant the remark as a compliment.

  "She's lovely," Mrs. Havelock pronounced, when Natalie presented her temporary daughter. Then she peered through her silver-rimmed glasses at Melissa. "And this is another of your girls?"

  "No. Oh, no. Melissa Brandon is a visitor in our midst. She's in Sandgate as a guest of my brother, Brian. You'd hardly remember Brian, of course. He was so young when we moved."

  Feeling as she did about Melissa, Natalie would have been outraged at being taken for her mother. The outrage showed itself in her too-rapid protests.

  Melissa dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands to keep from smiling too broadly at Natalie's discomfort. She didn't dare to look at Brian. If she did, she would probably burst out laughing.

  When she had composed herself enough to look around, she realized that her sister had disappeared. The girl had slipped into the milling crowd. Natalie would be chewing her fingernails when she noticed her absence.

  Melissa stretched herself as tall as she could and tried to peer over the heads of the people who stood in her line of vision between the entranceway and the ballroom. It was then that she looked directly into Jeremy's eyes. For an electrifying moment she was stunned into silence.

  A tingling began in her fingers and toes, then spiraled up her arms
and legs to center in the pit of her stomach. She implored her sense of humor to come to her rescue, and it didn't fail her. All this was no more than an elaborate stage set, she reminded herself. Everyone was comically miscast. Most of all, Natalie, who was acting the oh, so doting mother, and Brian, who looked painfully uncomfortable in his starched collar and bow tie. Melissa herself was reacting as a smitten teenager might over a man she hardly knew. She and Arlene would have myriad things to laugh about later, when all this was over.

  "Jeremy, my dear," Mrs. Havelock called. "Natalie's here."

  Gravely, he walked over and took one of Natalie's hands. "It's been a long time."

  "Too long." It was clear from the breathless quality in Natalie's voice and in the lingering glances the two exchanged that they had known each other more than casually.

  "The other young woman," Mrs. Havelock continued, "is Melissa Brandon. She's come to share in the fun with us."

  "Miss Brandon and I have met," he said, scanning her as though he had been called upon to guess her weight. "But I must admit I hardly recognized her."

  "You look very different yourself," she countered, deciding that she liked him better the other way. He looked more than a little pompous. His dark hair, attractively shaggy and windblown before, was combed neatly, and his casual denim shirt had been exchanged for a dinner jacket and tie.

  Sparks flew from Natalie's eyes. "You didn't tell me you'd made friends on your nocturnal stroll, Melissa."

  "There was a wounded bird on the beach. Mr. York helped me with it."

  "How like Jeremy. Always befriending poor unfortunates." Natalie glanced around then, discovering for the first time that one of their party was missing. Petulance crept into her voice and caused her fun-loving image to slip another notch. "Now where has my daughter gone? I wanted you to meet her."

  "She's dancing," Mrs. Havelock said. "Didn't you see Todd spirit her away?"

  "No. She didn't say anything to me." Nervously, Natalie's eyes darted to the dance floor. "Yes. There she is. The girl in the blue-green dress. Do you see her, Jeremy? Isn't she breathtaking?"

  Jeremy looked first at Melissa, then to the dance floor. "Your daughter's quite beautiful."

  "Thank you. But don't tell me that very tall young man is Todd—your little brother? I can't believe it. He was only a child when I last saw him."

  Jeremy didn't answer. All his attention was focused on the dancers.

  "They're playing a Cole Porter medley," Natalie cooed, tugging at his arm. "Let's not let it go to waste."

  "You do something to me," Brian said to Melissa under his breath.

  "What?"

  "The song they're playing. 'You Do Something to Me.' Shall we dance, too?"

  "If you like."

  The ballroom was circular with a magnificent crystal chandelier in the center of the high, curved ceiling. Between each of the many windows was a gilt and mahogany-framed mirror, reflecting the swaying dancers again and again, magnifying the size of the already gigantic room. Through glass doors lay a kind of greenhouse with vines, hanging plants and trees everywhere. Long tables had been set up, laden with every imaginable delicacy. It was a feast Melissa would have dug into with enthusiasm another time. Tonight she had little appetite. Why had Jeremy led her to believe that he wouldn't be here?

  He and Natalie made an attractive couple, she admitted grudgingly. They moved together as if they were professional dancers, going through a well-practiced routine. Though they carried on a conversation all the while, they didn't miss a step.

  "You didn't tell me you'd met York." Brian's comment held a definite bite.

  "When did I have the chance to tell you? There's been so much going on. Does it matter?"

  "I wonder. You aren't able to keep your eyes off him."

  Melissa fastened Brian with a sharp look. "I'm only surprised to see him here. He expressed a definite dislike for these celebrations."

  "He could hardly stay away. Mrs. Havelock is his mother-in-law. This is her party, though it's being held in his house."

  His mother-in-law? Her jaw slackened at the impact of Brian's remark. She might have known Jeremy was married. It explained the sudden change in his manner and his reason for withdrawing his invitation when he learned she was with Natalie. Closeness didn't make for comfortable philandering.

  And she'd thought of him as warm and caring, as down-to-earth and human. Hah. That was why love at first sight rarely grew as it did in storybooks. You met someone and something about his voice, his face, his walk—or the way he laughed—settled into your heart. You began to flesh out all the unknown vacant places with bits of your own fantasy. Before you knew it, you were hopelessly enamored of a fairy-tale prince who existed only in your imagination, and you wondered why he appeared to be changing.

  Why couldn't Jeremy York have truly been Eli Campbell?

  "You're surprised that he's married, aren't you?" Brian asked carefully.

  "Yes. He struck me as a born bachelor."

  "You've formed some strong opinions about a man you met only briefly."

  "I have a tendency to do that." Melissa trapped her lower lip between her teeth. Brian, please, she begged silently. I don't need you to change, too. "Is he the one who walked out on Natalie?" she asked slowly, already fearing the answer. "The one you told me about?"

  "The same. Poor Nat didn't have a chance. Wealth makes for tough competition."

  "You're saying he married for money?"

  "What do you think?" He paused, letting his words sink in. "Oh, not because he was poor. Not by a long shot. But money is a powerful drug. The more these people have, the more they covet. The Yorks made theirs in shipping. In case you didn't know, that's a euphemism. It began with smuggling not so many generations back. Now it's all very legal. Steel, plastics—"

  "He told me he builds amusement park rides."

  "That's his own personal baby. He took a gamble, and it paid off. But what kind of gamble was it? If he'd lost a million or two, he wouldn't have felt it."

  "You don't like him?"

  Brian looked down at her. "You could say that I'm jealous."

  "Does money mean so much to you?"

  "It isn't the money that makes me jealous." The arm that circled her waist tightened, drawing her so close against him that she could scarcely breathe. "It's what I see in your face when you look at him that's got me worried."

  "You're imagining things."

  "I don't think so." His voice was getting loud.

  "Brian, people are beginning to look at us."

  "If I'm imagining things, prove it. Let's take a drive. This place is claustrophobic. Nat would understand. We've put in an appearance. That's all she expects."

  "I can't."

  "Can't or won't?"

  "I promised my sister."

  "Her again."

  "Please try to understand," she pleaded, trailing after him as he pushed his way none too gently through the maze of dancers.

  Poor Brian, she thought. Natalie's attitude and playacting had unnerved him, too, and made him ready to leap down anyone's throat at the slightest provocation. He hadn't meant anything he said. She would have gone after him to smooth his feathers if Arlene hadn't popped up at that moment with her young man in tow.

  "Melissa, meet Todd. Todd, meet Melissa," she chirped, pushing them together. "Dance, won't you? I want you to get to know each other. Where's Uncle Brian off to in such a huff? I want to collect the dance he promised." Before Melissa could object, she sailed away.

  Todd might have been very nice. But there was too much of a family resemblance for her to appraise his qualities objectively. He was slimmer and years younger, but his eyes were Jeremy's eyes, and his full, finely molded mouth was Jeremy's mouth. Even his voice was similar.

  He made polite conversation about her job, about the weather and other routine subjects, and she returned polite answers. But her thoughts weren't with her partner or the dance they shared. All she could do was glance about the room
and wonder which of the elegantly gowned women was Jeremy's wife.

  "Have you known Jean long?" Todd asked. "She thinks a lot of you. I would say the whole idea of our dancing is for me to get your approval."

  "I've known her a long time, yes."

  "I've never known anyone quite like her. Is she really only seventeen? She seems older."

  Melissa sighed, hating this deception all over again. "She's mature for her age." It wasn't entirely a lie. Arlene was mature in some ways. In others, she was about ten years old.

  "Do you play the piano, too?"

  "No. I…" She sucked in her breath and held it when she saw that her sister was dancing again. Not with Brian, but with Jeremy.

  Todd chuckled. "You two have a lot in common. She likes to lead, too."

  Melissa mumbled an apology. In her efforts to keep out of Jeremy's way, she'd unconsciously been forcing her partner toward the other side of the dance floor.

  "It's all right," he offered, grinning again. "I like a woman with a mind of her own."

  A fluttering began in her middle. Her sister was trying to attract her attention. Now the two were working their way over. It would be impossible to avoid whatever the girl had in mind. I'll kill her, Melissa promised herself, cringing.

  "Time to change partners. Have you met Todd's brother? Melissa, meet Jeremy. And vice versa. There now. Dance. You're old friends."

  "It appears that this is our dance, like it or not," Jeremy said, taking her into his arms.

  A picture of him asking her if she had a beach card flashed through her mind. It was followed closely by another vision of him on the beach, sending her on her way alone. Now he was honoring her with a dance because it had been forced on him, and nobly he was making the best of it.

  "It isn't compulsory."

  "But it is." His face didn't change. His voice was pleasant, as without effort he held her easily, despite her small struggle to free herself. "I see no reason to hurt Jean's feelings. She's enjoying herself."

  "I'm glad someone is." Defeated, she willed herself to relax. A kick in the shins Would have made him release her, and it was a temptation she would have liked to give in to. But it would have made a scene—a scene that would have spoiled her sister's time. One dance wouldn't kill her, and she'd already made it clear that she wasn't enthusiastic about being his partner.