by Diana Palmer
Kittie was short with her and with everyone else in the house. She was wearing a huge diamond on her ring finger, and she was never six inches away from Jason except at night. They stayed for a week, during which Gracie and the other members of the household found reasons not to interact with the visitors. Jason took his fiancée to any number of cultural events, including the ballet and the symphony. It puzzled Gracie that Jason hadn’t taken Kittie down to the ranch, until she overheard the woman holding forth on her views about smelly cattle and spending time in a glorified shack with dirty cowboys milling around.
Kittie didn’t lose an opportunity to tell the women of the house that changes were going to be made when she came back to spend Thanksgiving. For one thing, they needed a better caterer, and for another, the house was absolutely Gothic in its decor. It needed remodeling badly. Gracie’s room, she added with menace, was like a child’s room, all lace and pink and white, and needed updating. Of course, she said for the umpteenth time, it was really bighearted of Jason to let his stepsister live with him, but wasn’t Gracie old enough to support herself by now? She alluded to Mrs. Harcourt’s age and muttered that she was beyond ancient, like the chauffeur. And that Dilly was an absolute embarrassment! She looked far too country to work in a mansion.
Not that Kittie made those remarks in front of Jason. When he was around, she praised everybody, even Gracie. That way, if anybody complained about her to Jason, he’d know they were lying.
Jason tolerated Kittie’s advances, but if Gracie had been watching, she might have noticed that all the overtures were hers. He seemed to be playing a waiting game with regard to the lovely model.
He didn’t spend five minutes alone with Gracie, which was a relief to her. She was still shell-shocked by his sudden engagement. She’d always thought that he’d marry one day, but she’d expected it to be a woman he knew, someone who shared his background. This model was like someone from another planet. Yes, she was beautiful and cultured and worldly. But she was joyless. She liked the house, but only for its possessions. Sentiment had no place in her life. She liked cold, hard cash and men. Gracie overheard her talking to someone on the phone, bragging about her sexual exploits with a variety of men. She was engaged to a man who was dynamite in bed, she told the listener, so as long as he could satisfy her, she’d stay with him. But there was a Middle-Eastern prince who also coveted her, and he was much richer than Jason. Relationships were such a bother, she sighed. Men only wanted sex, but when they were rich, it was no hardship for her. She could fake pleasure as long as the gifts she got in return were expensive.
Gracie, who’d never known even one man intimately, was shocked by the woman’s attitude. Was that really the meaning of life, to have sex with as many people as possible so that you fit in the status quo? It seemed a particularly empty life to Gracie, who was happy with the simplest things and wanted no part of orgies. It must be in the upbringing, she decided. Then she remembered hers and shuddered.
SHE DROVE DOWN TO Jacobsville several days after Mrs. Harcourt’s birthday in desperation to escape the constant sight of Kittie plastered to Jason. There was an endless influx of visitors to the mansion, as well, mostly rich and famous people whom Jason knew that Kittie wanted to become acquainted with. That was after the shopping spree at Neiman Marcus, from which the redhead came home with numerous boxes of expensive clothing, shoes, perfume and jewelry.
“Yes, we know about your new houseguest,” Barbara said sympathetically. She could read the misery in Gracie’s face. “Is he really going to marry her?”
“How do you know about her?” Gracie asked.
“He was showing her off at the ballet. Rick went along as an off-duty bodyguard for Keely Welsh when she went there with Clark Sinclair.”
Gracie sighed. “Well, she’s beautiful.”
“Rick wasn’t impressed. She snubbed him. He wasn’t rich, you see.”
“I thought she’d probably be like that,” she replied. “Jason seems to be very happy with her.”
“I’m sorry.”
She moved a shoulder. “It was inevitable that he’d get married someday. But I can’t live with her.” She sighed miserably. “I have to get a job and go to work. I have to find a place to live.”
“Gracie, don’t jump the gun,” Barbara said gently. “It’s a long way from an engagement to the altar.”
“She says they’ll marry at Christmas,” she moaned.
Barbara winced. “Maybe…”
“Maybe not.” She swallowed. “I could teach, you know. I have a degree in history. Maybe there’s a night job as an adjunct at the community college. I could teach that without a master’s degree.”
Barbara hesitated. Then she sighed. “Okay, I know the president of the college. I’ll call him tonight.”
Gracie smiled. “Thanks. I’ll have to find a place to live…”
“No, you won’t. You can stay with me.”
“Oh, I couldn’t impose,” she began.
“I’ll enjoy having the company. Rick’s almost never home lately. I’d love to just have somebody to talk to.”
“As if you don’t talk to people every day,” Gracie teased.
“It isn’t the same as talking to a friend. When do you want to start?” She hesitated. “May I make a suggestion? Wait until spring semester. That starts in January. By then, you may not want or need a job.”
“Or I may need one desperately,” Gracie replied. “I need to find something for Mrs. Harcourt and Dilly and John, too. Kittie will boot them out before she boots me out.”
“Jason won’t let that happen.”
“You don’t know this woman,” Gracie insisted. “She’ll force them to leave and tell Jason it was their own decision and she couldn’t talk them out of it. She’s a master at manipulation.” She looked worried. “Can I bring Mumbles?”
“Your cat?”
She nodded. “He’s been at the vet’s for the past three weeks, while they get him over a kidney infection. He’s old, you know, and he won’t last many more years, but I can’t leave him behind.”
“I love cats. Bring him along.”
She brightened. “You’re the nicest friend I’ve got.”
“Well, I could return that compliment,” Barbara replied. “Now stop thinking doom and gloom and let’s have some pie!”
5
AS IT WAS, JASON DID speak to Gracie just before he and Kittie were driven to the airport by a somber John. Gracie had brought old Mumbles home from the vet, his kidney infection cured. He was a huge feline with big blue eyes and orange tips on his ears and tail. His fur was long and luxurious, and Gracie kept it brushed. With his rhinestone collar, Mumbles was the very picture of a pampered pet. But his beauty made no impression on Kittie, who no sooner walked into the living room where the big cat was occupying a cushy armchair, than she started sneezing her head off. Gracie had removed him to her room with apologies, but Kittie hadn’t even answered her. She’d given Gracie a look that promised retribution.
And here it was. Jason looked down at her with smoldering eyes in a taciturn face. “You’ll have to do something about Mumbles before we come back for Thanksgiving, Gracie,” he told her quietly. “Kittie’s allergic to cats.”
How ironic, she thought, but didn’t say it. “What would you like me to do with him, Jason?” she asked worriedly.
“He can’t be in the house with Kittie,” he said, averting his gaze. This stupid engagement was carrying a high price tag already.
“He’s twelve years old and he’s never been outside in his life,” she said miserably. “I can’t put him out in the yard.”
“Kittie’s allergic to cats,” he repeated tersely. “She was only sneezing yesterday, but she usually breaks out in hives when she gets around them.”
Gracie didn’t let him see her eyes. She mustn’t cry.
“Oh, for God’s sake, he’s only an old cat—not a child!” he shouted, angered out of all proportion by the possibility of tears. It was
killing him to hurt her like this! He’d given her the damned cat. It had been a revelation, the way she reacted to the gift. He’d wondered if she’d ever had a present in her whole young life. And now the cat was the cause of a major argument with Kittie, who wouldn’t compromise and Jason was caught in the cross-fire between a fiancée he didn’t want and the woman he ached to have who didn’t want him. He was furious at his own feeling of helplessness.
The whip of his voice caused Gracie to actually back away from him. Her face was paper-white. It had been years since he’d snapped at her like that, since he’d looked so harsh. It was the end of everything. Kittie hated her and was searching for ways to make her move out of the house. The staff was miserable and resigned to being pushed out, as well. She was sorry about Kittie’s allergies, but poor Mumbles was old and sick and had no place to go. Now Jason seemed to be leading up to the possibility of euthanasia!
“He’s old, Gracie,” he said harshly. “He doesn’t have much time left, anyway. It might be a mercy to just put him down.”
“I am not having him put down!” she burst out. Her lower lip trembled. She couldn’t remember ever standing up to Jason before. But she was fighting for Mumbles, now, for his very life. Her fists clenched at her side. “If you want us both to leave, just say so.”
“And what would you do?” he asked hotly. “Get a job? What are you qualified to do except give teas and hostess parties, Gracie?” he added coldly.
She reacted to the words as if he’d slapped her, and he could have bitten his tongue for the slip.
“I am not an idiot, Jason,” Gracie replied tightly. “And maybe I can do a lot of things you don’t think I can do!”
He didn’t say a word. He just looked at her.
That was the last straw. So that was what he really thought of her, out in the open. He’d never demeaned her like that before. Hurt and furious, she turned on her heel and ran up the staircase to her room as if the hounds of hell were on her heels. Once she was safely inside, she locked the door and sat by the window, shaking all over. This was the only real home she’d ever known. She’d felt secure in this house. She and the staff had loved each other, nurtured each other. Mumbles had been part of the joy she felt in living here for over twelve years, ever since Jason had given him to her as a Christmas present. And now, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. Once that vicious redhead had walked in the door, it was all over. She was going to lose everything she loved. Her family, her home, even her cat. And especially Jason!
There was a loud rap on the door. “Gracie!” Jason called urgently.
She didn’t answer him. Her heart was breaking.
He tried the door. It wouldn’t open.
There was another pause. “Gracie,” he called again, less angrily.
He muttered something. A minute later, she heard his footsteps fading away. Gracie knew then that she was going to be gone before he and his fiancée came back at Thanksgiving.
“ISN’T YOUR STEPSISTER even going to say goodbye to us?” Kittie asked in her soft, husky voice as they climbed into the limousine.
His face hardened. “She’s upset about the cat.”
“It’s just a cat,” she said breezily. “She can get another one when she has a house of her own.”
He frowned. “What do you mean—a house of her own?”
“Well, darling, you don’t expect her to live with us?” she exclaimed, horrified. “I mean, what would people think? Besides, I’m not sharing you with other people. Especially not a grasping, greedy woman like that.”
“Gracie isn’t greedy,” he said curtly.
“She isn’t making any effort to support herself, now, is she?” she asked. “All these years, living off you, letting you pay for everything she owns—even her clothes. It isn’t right. I’m sure people must gossip about the two of you.”
He was feeling royally sick to his stomach. His little game of payback had destroyed his family. He got a glimpse of John’s pale, set face in the rearview mirror. He’d have to make sure he spoke to the man—and to Dilly—when he came back, to reassure them about their place with him. And especially Mrs. Harcourt, he thought miserably. She’d been so happy that he’d remembered her birthday, only to have Kittie treat her like a servant. He closed his eyes on a wave of pain. She’d had so little in her life. All her sacrifices, and his father hadn’t left her a dime. Jason had tried to make sure she was appreciated ever since. He should have said something when Kittie insulted her. And Gracie… She was heartsick about her poor old cat and he’d made matters worse by unleashing his anger on her moments ago.
Kittie saw an opportunity and took it. “You know,” she said in a confidential tone, easing closer to him and toying with his shirt collar, “she’s in her midtwenties and unmarried. Doesn’t that suggest to you that she doesn’t want to rock the boat?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, if she marries, she loses everything…doesn’t she? You’re not likely to keep supporting her in such an extravagant manner. She can’t afford to marry, can she?”
The terrible suggestion unnerved him. He’d never looked at it in that light. Was Gracie so attached to her lifestyle that she stayed single not because she’d never found a man she could love, but because she wouldn’t be coddled by Jason anymore? Surely not! He knew she wasn’t a selfish woman. Still…
“Are you all right, darling?” Kittie asked, concerned. “You don’t look well.”
He swallowed the pride he was choking on. “I’m working on a buyout of a German computer company,” he said tersely. “It’s been frustrating.”
She moved close to him and curled up at his side. “I can take care of frustration,” she purred. “You just wait and see.”
It would be a long wait, he thought miserably. His body had absolutely no interest in her, despite her fabled, sultry beauty. He was unable to make love to her, a fact he’d managed to camouflage with excuses. Her long trip overseas would give him breathing space. But he didn’t hold out much hope that he was going to be able to honor the halfhearted commitment he’d made to her. His wounded pride over Gracie’s rejection had served him up on a platter to Kittie. As for his thought that he might have gotten her pregnant, that was a laugh. He’d seen her little container of birth-control pills, which she kept on the bedside table.
She’d been amused about their so-called encounter the night he was drunk, when he’d gone fishing in conversation for the chances of her becoming pregnant. Children, she’d scoffed, that wasn’t for her. She was a maniac about birth control. Her career was the most important thing in her life. She had no desire to change diapers and give bottles and lose her figure. Besides, she laughed, Jason hadn’t even been capable. He’d passed out on the bed and left her to undress him. Later, when he was through all the stress produced by his merger, she said in a world-wise tone, he could make this enforced abstinence up to her. She knew it was business pressure that had made him temporarily incapable. It happened to men sometimes, she said wisely. In fact, her last boyfriend had been similarly afflicted from time to time. So had her other lovers.
Jason felt a skirl of distaste when she bragged about her conquests. He’d heard younger men boasting about how many women they’d had, and it had disgusted him. It reminded him of his father, who’d never been faithful to any of his wives. Jason had never wanted to be like him.
Kittie kept trying to seduce him, but she seemed to realize that he wasn’t attracted to her and, worse, she seemed to feel that Gracie was to blame for it. It had made for some catty and insulting remarks that he’d ignored, but he wouldn’t be able to ignore them indefinitely. When she was through with her overseas shoots, he was going to have to find some way to break off the engagement. Perhaps with something very expensive that she craved. He knew already that it was his wealth that kept her at his side. She’d insinuated that Gracie stayed around for the same reason. He didn’t want to believe that. But what did he really know about the background of the woman he’d s
hared his home with for so long? Her past was mysterious. His eyes narrowed. He was going to have to do some digging, he decided. He didn’t like secrets.
He managed a word alone with John at the airport, but the other man was quiet and unresponsive, refusing to meet his eyes.
“We’ll work all this out by Christmas,” Jason told his chauffeur firmly.
John’s thin shoulders rose and fell. “Nothing to work out, Mr. Pendleton,” he said politely. “We’re all too old to still be doing these jobs anyway, like your fiancée said. Have a good trip.”
“John!”
But the chauffeur was already in the car, driving away.
Jason cursed roundly. He barely heard Kittie calling him from the entrance to the terminal.
He phoned the house while Kittie was in the restroom. Mrs. Harcourt answered.
“Don’t let John walk out,” he said tersely. “That goes double for you and Dilly. We’ll talk when I come home. I’m going to be in Europe for trade talks, but I’ll be back here in a week or two. After that, I’ll probably have to go to Germany to sort out that mess, but we’ll discuss some things at the house first.”
Mrs. Harcourt hesitated. “All right, Mr. Jason.”
He winced. “Don’t call me that!”
“I just work for you,” she said quietly. “That’s all. You need servants who fit in with Miss Kittie’s sort of folks,” she said gently. “We’ll just be an embarrassment to you. Maybe we already are. Mr. Myron would never have let us stay if he’d lived.”
“I’m not my father!”
She swallowed hard. “Still, we can find something else…”
“No!”
She didn’t say anything.
“We’ll talk about it when I get home. Kittie opens her mouth and words fall out. She doesn’t consider other people’s feelings. It’s the company she keeps.” He hated apologizing for the woman. He drew in a long breath. “How’s Gracie?”