Affair of Honor

by Stephanie James

  “Brenna!”

  Her hand fell away and she watched the other man walk out the door. She knew even as she watched his retreating tweed jacket that it wasn’t just a man walking out of her life, but in all likelihood, her entire future at the college where Damon Fielding would someday be head of the Department of Philosophy. She hadn’t been ready yet to make such a final decision, and now that decision had been made for her. Eyes flaming, she whirled on Ryder as Damon slammed the door.

  “Do you have any idea of what you’ve just done? How did you dare? How could you presume to walk in here this morning and ruin my whole life!”

  He stared at her for a moment. “Brenna, I walked in here and found a strange male slapping you around. What the hell did you expect me to do?” She had the feeling he wasn’t accustomed to explaining his actions to anyone.

  “I would have expected a rational, intelligent, civilized man to ask a few questions and find out what was going on before he interfered!”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Okay.” He shrugged. “So what was going on?”

  “Damn you! It’s a little late to be asking that now, isn’t it?”

  “You mean too late now that I’ve, uh, ruined your whole life?” he queried wryly.

  “It’s not a joke!”

  “You can say that again! Do you have any idea what it’s like for a man to walk in on a scene like the one I just witnessed? My God, Brenna, he’s lucky I didn’t beat him to a pulp!”

  “What stopped you?” she gritted scathingly.

  “Chalk it up to the fact that I was feeling magnanimous after spending such a delightful evening,” he bit out far too gently. Belatedly it began to occur to Brenna that Ryder was furious.

  “A delightful evening enjoying the novelty of seducing a college professor?” she hissed tauntingly.

  “A delightful evening being seduced by one,” he corrected coolly. “I wasn’t the one who rushed matters, as I recall. I distinctly remember saying I was prepared to wait.”

  “You’re saying that last night was my fault?” she blazed, her anger now at such a high level, she had momentarily forgotten Damon.

  He considered that. “Yes.”

  “Why, you ill-bred, ill-mannered, ill-behaved…”

  “Stud?” he offered helpfully, a new emotion rousing in the silver eyes to douse some of the controlled fury. Humor?

  It was more than Brenna could stand, coming as it did after everything she’d been through in the past twelve hours. She swiveled and grabbed at the nearest object that came to hand, a philosophy text as it happened. Without a pause she sent it sailing toward her tormentor.

  The flicker of amusement vanished in Ryder’s expression as he stepped aside and let the missile crash into the wall behind him. For an instant after the text had landed harmlessly on the floor, there was utter silence in the room. Brenna stood staring, eyes wide, lips parted in shock at her own violence. And then Ryder started toward her.

  Panic overwhelmed her. She wanted to turn and flee but couldn’t find the muscle control to do so. The combination of her own guilt, the trauma of the morning’s events, and remnants of her anger somehow combined to make it impossible for her to run from him. Since there was no alternative, Brenna stood her ground, hands curled into fists on her hips, chin tilted in a defiance she was far from feeling.

  He paced toward her with the gliding, deliberate stride of a hunting cat, and when he reached a point less than a step away he stopped.

  “As I’ve said before, you don’t cower when the chips are down, do you?” His words were almost whimsical.

  Brenna said nothing; her breath was coming a little too quickly and her pulse was racing, fired by the adrenaline of her emotions.

  “Can I take it from your reaction that you don’t consider me merely an amusing stud with whom you’ve decided to shack up this summer?” he persisted dryly.

  “You’re being insufferable,” she managed tightly.

  “I know,” he admitted on a sigh of regret. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve had a trying few minutes.”

  To her utter astonishment he spun around on one booted heel and started toward the kitchen. “There is a time for action and a time for talk, lady. There is also a time to eat. The action’s over and I suggest we proceed to the other two items on the agenda. Ah, good, you’ve already started,” he added calmly as he plucked another egg out of the carton.

  Driven by an impulse she didn’t quite understand, Brenna narrowed her eyes and said meaningfully, “I was fixing breakfast for Damon.”

  “Damon’s gone,” he pointed out blandly.

  “Ryder…”

  “Sit down, Brenna. We’re going to talk.”

  The underlying steel in the too-gentle voice was enough to convince her to do as he said. He wasn’t the only one who’d had a trying few minutes. Mutely she crossed slowly to the round wooden table near the window and sank into the chair, watching as he methodically fixed breakfast.

  He took in the sight of her tightly folded hands and stiff shoulders and the silent resentment in her eyes and shook his head once before he went back to cracking eggs. “I’m not going to apologize for what just happened, Brenna. Any man who walked in on a scene like that would have reacted in the same manner.”

  “Any man who makes it a habit to indulge his physical, violent reactions to a situation, you mean!”

  He lifted one shoulder dismissingly. “If you think that was bad, you ought to see what I would have done if I’d walked in and found him kissing you, instead! Besides, if I may take the liberty of saying so, the man was engaging in a little violence himself!”

  Brenna squeezed her eyes shut in pained memory and seemed to sag a little in despair. “Oh, Ryder, you should have heard what I said to him!”

  “I did hear some of it but I didn’t understand it all. What was going on, Brenna?” he prompted quietly as he poured tea.

  She looked up at him bleakly. “The man came up here to help me. He’s concerned about me, my career. I’m…I’m in the middle of a major decision, you see. Whatever I decide to do will affect my whole future. Poor Damon was only trying to make me see the reasonable side of the situation…” She gave a muffled exclamation and reached for the tea he had poured. “Never mind, it’s complicated and I doubt that you’d really be interested—”

  “You know damn well I’m interested,” he interrupted grimly. “Go on.”

  Brenna hesitated a moment longer and then gave in. What did it matter if she told him the tale? “You must have heard how it is in the academic world when it comes to the importance of faculty members getting published in their field?”

  “Publish or perish?”

  “I’m afraid it truly is that bad. If you want to advance and gain tenure, it’s an absolute necessity. I have been working for months on a major paper on the subject of computer ethics…”

  “Computer ethics!” Ryder appeared startled for the first time.

  Brenna smiled a tiny, wan smile. “It’s a hot new field for philosophy as a whole. Practically speaking, philosophy departments have fallen out of favor on a lot of campuses. Not everyone still sees the study of philosophy as critical to a modern education. The issue of the ethics of computer use and abuse in the modern world is a way for philosophy to get back into the mainstream and help keep itself alive as an intellectual field. It’s kind of an applied philosophy.” She paused and looked at him uncertainly.

  “Okay, I’ll take your word for it,” he muttered, peering closely at the scrambled eggs in the frying pan.

  “At any rate, I’ve put a lot of work into a paper that assesses the logic and ethics of computers in the light of historical philosophical thinking. Relating what people like Aristotle and Kant and others have written to the modern problem of computer use is fascinating, Ryder. It provides all sorts of new insights, opens up all kinds of questions…” For a few seconds the enthusiasm she felt for her subject wiped out the dull anxiety in her amber eyes.

  Ryder
half smiled. “Again, I’ll take your word for it.”

  Brenna gave herself a slight mental shake and returned to the main issue. “I had a lot of notes and a rough outline of what I wanted to say in my office. It was no secret that I was preparing the paper in order to submit it to a major journal in the field. One weekend I went into my office on a Sunday, which is something I rarely do. I had intended to put a little extra time in on the project. When I arrived, the whole file of my notes and the outline were gone.”

  “Stolen?” he demanded, obviously intrigued by the turn of events.

  “They were back in my desk drawer on Monday morning,” she told him flatly. “I couldn’t figure out what in the world was going on. I got paranoid and started taking the file home with me, but by then the damage had already been done. Lord only knows how many Sundays the file had spent out of my desk and on someone else’s!”

  “Whose?”

  “The head of my department, that’s who!” Brenna proclaimed with renewed anger. “The eminent Dr. Paul Humphrey, who wanted to mark his last year in the academic world with a paper that would give the impression that he was at the forefront of modern philosophy! I suppose I should be flattered,” she added disparagingly. “I didn’t know the work I’d done was that good!”

  “How did you find out?”

  “It was announced this past week that a major monograph written by him had been submitted and accepted for publication in an important philosophical journal. Copies of the monograph were passed around so that the faculty could read and admire the work of their department chief. I hadn’t finished the first page before I realized I was reading my own research and analysis!”

  “So you stood up at the next faculty party and accused your boss of being a thief?” Ryder asked interestedly as he served up the eggs and toast and sat down across from Brenna. “Must have been a sight worth seeing.”

  “I did not make any open accusations. I was in a quandary so I went to the person I felt closest to on the faculty, the man who will very possibly be the next department head…”

  “The man I just kicked out the front door?”

  “His name is Damon Fielding. Dr. Damon Fielding,” she emphasized through clenched teeth.

  “And he immediately took up cudgels on your behalf?” Ryder hazarded coolly, chewing on a slice of whole wheat toast.

  Brenna sighed. “He sympathized; said he believed me but there was nothing either of us could do about it. Humphrey is a law unto himself, he said, and I would only get hurt if I tried to challenge the man over an issue like this. He’s a well-known established scholar and I’m just a beginner. He tried to impress upon me the fact that if I’m going to succeed in my chosen profession, I’ve got to learn to play the politics of the situation. He…he made it sound as if we were out in the corporate world with all its nasty in-fighting and games on the way to the top.”

  “He’s probably right,” Ryder surprised her by saying readily.

  She blinked at him owlishly, not having expected quite that reaction.

  “Any situation in which there’s a lot of competition for the top rung of a ladder is going to create a climate of that sort. It’s true in the military world, the corporate world, and, I’m sure, in the academic world. You can’t change that fact of life, lady, all you can do is decide whether or not you’re going to play the game. The thing to remember is that the choice is yours.”

  “You seem to have given the matter some thought,” she said thinly.

  “Sure, I’ve faced the situation before. That’s one of the reasons I’ve done some of the things I’ve done and one of the reasons I’m writing adventure fiction. I made the choice of living life on my own terms as much as possible. This is the way I do that,” he concluded simply.

  Brenna stared at him in consternation and then asked the question that was uppermost in her mind. “What would you have done if you’d been Damon?” she breathed.

  He gave her a steady glance. “You mean if you’d come to me with proof that the head of the department had stolen your material? Something ill-bred, ill-mannered, and ill-behaved, no doubt. Also something violent. Lady, I would have fought on your behalf and in the process probably gotten us both kicked out of the college,” Ryder told her bluntly. “All of which is not to say that my way is any better or worse than your friend Damon’s. In the end you’re the one who has to make the decision.”

  “Yes.” She nodded, acknowledging the inescapable truth. “Although it looks as though I’ve already made it. Damon won’t forgive that little scene this morning. And it was all my fault; I should never have precipitated it by pointing out to him that he was condoning unethical and disreputable behavior by not speaking up on my behalf.”

  “That’s the comment that made him lose his temper and slap you?”

  She nodded. “I insulted him terribly when you think about it. He was only trying to help me. He came all this way to help me, in fact.”

  “Exactly how much does the man mean to you?” Ryder demanded with sudden intensity. “I’m getting the impression he’s more than merely a colleague.”

  “He is…was…” Brenna lifted a hand vaguely. “We were quite close. We date regularly and…” She couldn’t quite meet the piercing silver eyes now.

  “And you were thinking of a more permanent arrangement?” Ryder growled.

  “I thought we were rather well matched, as a matter of fact. We respect each other, enjoy each other’s company, have an enormous amount in common…” she began belligerently.

  “None of which means anything after last night,” he broke in to say in a very even tone. “And don’t look at me as if you’re experiencing total shock. You don’t have all that much in common with Damon Fielding or you wouldn’t have been so hurt by his failure to champion your cause. If you’d had so much in common, you would have known him well enough to predict exactly how he’d react in the situation you described. On the other hand,” he added imperturbably, “you knew me well enough after only three days to be not at all surprised at how I reacted to that little scene this morning!”

  “What are you talking about?” She glowered at him, her stomach tensing with premonition.

  “Whatever you had with Fielding is over,” he explained calmly. “You made that decision last night when you invited me into your bed. I warned you I’d hold you to your choice once you made it. You belong to me now, Brenna Llewellyn.”

  You belong to me . The words hammered into her mind as she sat staring at the man sitting across the table from her. “No,” she whispered desperately. “No, you don’t understand…”

  “Are you going to try running away?” he asked as if only academically interested in the answer. Ryder reached for another slice of toast.

  “If you think we have so much in common that we can predict each other’s reactions, you tell me!” she shot back furiously. How dare he sit there so calmly and talk about her belonging to him? Maybe in his world people thought in such primitive terms, but certainly not in hers! But she had known ever since she awoke this morning that this was coming. It was the wrongness she’d been aware of since she’d opened her eyes. She had known she’d made a tremendous mistake letting herself be swept away by the mood of the evening. How could she have been so incredibly stupid?

  He was chewing his toast and contemplating her question. “To tell you the truth I can see you going either way,” he finally stated with a nod. “You might run just to see if I really will come after you.”

  “That would be childish in the extreme!” she snapped, incensed because the question had leaped into her mind the moment he had suggested the fact that she might actually choose to run away. Would he come after her? It was useless to speculate. Brenna Llewellyn didn’t resort to such emotional tricks. She had been trained to deal with problems much more intelligently than that!

  “Not childish, but perhaps tritely feminine,” he corrected judiciously. “To save you the bother, I’ll tell you right now that I would, indeed, come
after you. And I probably wouldn’t be in the best of moods when I found you, either. But if I had to bet on the most likely reaction, my money would be on the side that says you’ll stay and battle this out even though the conclusion is a foregone one after last night.”

  “Hardly!”

  One tawny brow arched in cool mockery. “The conclusion is foregone, lady, but if it will soothe your frazzled nerves I’ll reassure you that I’m still willing to wait. Just as I was willing to wait last night. I won’t push you back into bed.”

  “You’re too generous!” Brenna couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The morning was shaping up disastrously!

  The brackets at the edge of his mouth softened although he didn’t quite smile. “It’s not a question of generosity, Brenna. It’s just that I know you well enough to realize that what happened last night happened a little too soon. I knew it at the time but I did warn you that I’d hold you to your decision. This morning you’re feeling panicked and unnerved and I’d just as soon you didn’t run away from me, so I’m giving you the time you need to settle everything in your own head to your satisfaction. There are obviously some other major decisions awaiting you in regard to your career. You’ve clearly got enough on your mind without having to worry about what you’ll do if I try to carry you off to bed.”

  “You’re so damn sure of yourself,” she whispered incredulously.

  “It’s not me I’m sure of, it’s you. You’re a woman of honor—I know you won’t be able to turn your back on what happened between us last night. You only need a little time to deal with it. Don’t panic, lady, I’m a very patient man when the goal is this important,” he concluded kindly.

  Brenna swallowed, stricken. “Aren’t you reading a great deal into one rather reckless night?”

  He did smile this time, memories dancing in his eyes. “It was reckless, wasn’t it? All things considered, you’re turning out to have quite a streak of recklessness in your makeup. Did you know that about yourself before this summer?”