"Elyse!" His voice had a strangled sound. "For God's sake, that's not true. She just—"
"I just got here a few minutes ago," Dinah broke in.
Elyse's gaze focused on Dinah's feet, which were bare. "Long enough to take off your shoes, I see. But, then, you're used to making yourself at home here, aren't you? I'm the one who's the interloper."
Clint covered the few steps between them and grasped her shoulders. "Elyse, stop this. Let me explain—"
"Take your hands off me, Clint." Her tone was still pleasant, but it was reinforced with steel.
His hands dropped to his sides. "Look," he said, obviously trying to regain his shattered composure. "Let's sit down and talk this over calmly."
She walked toward one of the big chairs. "But I am talking calmly. In fact, I seem to be the calmest one here."
She sat down and waited until Clint, who still looked pale and ill, took one of the other chairs, while Dinah settled on the sofa. Elyse was uncomfortably aware of her own shorts, and wished she had something to cover her legs. She felt… violated… every time Clint looked at her.
"Well, now, what are we going to talk over calmly?" She turned toward Dinah. "Would you like to tell me what you were doing in the bedroom with my fiancé?" She swung back to look at Clint. "Or are you going to explain why you were too ill to see me but are well enough to entertain another woman in your pajamas?"
It was Dinah who answered. "It's not Clint's fault. He told me not to come here, but I came, anyway."
Elyse smiled sadly, and wondered why she wasn't screaming. She wanted to rant and rage and throw things, but it was as if she'd been split into two personalities—one behaving like a lady while the other stood by helplessly urging her to stamp her feet and shout obscenities. "I can't speak for your actions," she said quietly, "but, you see, Clint knew how to manipulate me. He appealed to my responsibility as a mother to keep me away so he'd be free to make love with you—"
Clint jumped to his feet. "That's enough, dammit! I haven't been making love with Dinah."
Elyse cringed, and felt a crack in her emotional armor. Obviously she wasn't as detached as she'd thought. She sank back in the chair and closed her eyes. "You're right, we've all had enough," she said, and her voice wasn't quite so clear. "I guess we'd better get this over with as quickly as possible."
She stood and unfastened the gold chain that hung around her neck, pulling the emerald ring from its hiding place under her blouse. She laid it in the palm of her hand and held it out to him. "I guess I always knew I'd never wear this," she said sadly.
Clint jammed his hands into the pockets of his robe. "The ring is yours. I expect you to keep it and wear it."
Elyse turned her hand over and let the expensive jewel drop to the floor. "I can't be used and then paid off, Clint."
She stood and walked regally to the door, opened it, then shut it quietly behind her.
By the time she got back across the bridge and to the car her composure was rapidly disintegrating. She wasn't prepared to find Alice sitting quietly in the passenger seat. Elyse leaned down and looked through the open window, but before she could say anything Alice spoke. "Get in and drive down the road and around the corner. I need to talk to you."
Without saying a word Elyse did as she was told and stopped the car on the shoulder out of sight of the house.
She turned and looked at Alice. The housekeeper shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop," she began, "but I couldn't help overhearing. I know it looks bad, but I think you should know that there's nothing… wrong… going on between Clint and Dinah Jefferson."
Elyse clutched the steering wheel and shook her head. "There isn't anything wrong about making love."
"There is if one of the people doing it is betraying someone else's trust. Clint wouldn't do that to you. I know what I'm talking about. Oh, I don't mean he's blameless—he should have let me turn her away when she first came on Wednesday. He wasn't feeling up to having company, and he couldn't have… uh…"
Alice's face was red, and Elyse was touched by the older woman's insistence on saying what she felt she must say, even though it was acutely embarrassing to her.
Elyse reached out and touched her arm. "Alice," she said softly, "it's very dear of you to want to spare me, but I'm not judging Clint. He's been in love with Dinah for a long time, and now that she's back—"
The housekeeper shook her head. "No, ma'am, you don't understand. I'm not covering up for him. I know that those two haven't been messin' around. I've been here all day every day this week, and it's true that Dinah was with him most of yesterday, but they were never alone long enough to—to—oh, shoot, he's not tusslin' her in bed or anywhere else."
The poor woman was red all over and deeply mortified to be discussing such an intimate subject. Elyse knew she was telling the truth. If she hadn't felt it so strongly she would never have talked about it so openly. Elyse was sure that when her own emotions thawed she'd feel greatly relieved.
She patted Alice's arm. "I believe you, and thanks for telling me. I know it's been difficult, and it does make it easier for me, but it doesn't change anything. I couldn't hold him to a marriage he no longer wants."
Alice shrugged. "If he doesn't come after you he's a darn fool. That Dinah's a nice woman, but she's given him nothing but sorrow." She opened the door and got out of the car. "I'll walk back to the house." She shut the door and walked away before Elyse could say anything.
There were tears on Elyse's face when she got home, and soon afterward the numbness receded and the pain surged with delayed force. She was glad Janey was gone, because the sobs that shook her couldn't be held back.
She'd learned after Jerry's death to give vent to her crying spells, and eventually they'd hurried the healing. She wasn't sure why she'd been targeted to lose at the game of love a second time, but she'd better get all her tears spent now, because she had no intention of letting her young daughter see her cry.
Early the following morning Clint appeared on Elyse's doorstep.
She and Janey had just finished their breakfast, and since it was Saturday, neither was dressed. Elyse wore a cotton robe over her nightgown and Janey hadn't yet changed out of her Mickey Mouse pajamas. She jumped down from her chair and raced for the door when the bell rang.
She pulled aside the curtain that covered the glass panels and wiggled with excitement. "It's Clint! Hurry, Mommy, it's Clint. Hi, Clint."
Elyse wasn't altogether surprised. She'd known that Clint wouldn't just let her walk away from him like that. He was too caring a person to let her go without explanations and apologies and offers to make things right, but she cursed her traitorous heart for accelerating even as she slowed her steps. Her earlier protective shield of acceptance had crumbled, and she was vulnerable and defenseless.
Janey was knocking on the glass and waving at him as she called, "Come on, Mommy. Let Clint in."
Now Elyse had another burden to bear, which she'd been to upset to think about before. How could she tell her happy and loving child that her beloved Clint—hero, playmate and surrogate father—wouldn't be coming around anymore?
She reached the door and opened it, and Janey flew into Clint's arms. He held her tight and hugged her as she squealed with delight. "You want some breakfast?" she asked. "We got pancakes."
Clint looked over Janey's shoulder at Elyse, seeking permission. There was nothing she could do but give it, unless she wanted to deal with her daughter right then and there.
She nodded, and Clint said, "I'd love some pancakes. Is there coffee, too?"
The child bobbed her strawberry blond head up and down. "An' orange juice an' eggs an' you can sit next to me."
Elyse turned and led them down the hall to the kitchen.
Clint continued to devote all his attention to Janey while Elyse fixed his breakfast. When she'd finished she put it on the table in front of him and excused herself to go upstairs and dress, leaving them alone.
As she pulled o
n an old pair of jeans and a blue-and-white striped pullover shirt she noticed that her hands were shaking. So be it. She'd never claimed to be an automaton, and she still loved the man. It would take her a long time to get over that, but she wasn't going to dress up for him and pretend this was a social visit.
Why hadn't he given her more time to pull herself together? Last night she'd hardly slept, but neither could she think. She'd finally turned on the television and watched a couple of old movies, but when they'd ended she realized she hadn't the least idea what they were about.
Playing for time now, she made the beds in her room and Janey's. But eventually time ran out, and she had to go downstairs and face the situation—and Clint. She glanced at her ravaged face in the mirror and wondered why she'd been in such a hurry to grow up when she was younger.
She found Clint and Janey in the family room, sitting on the couch, watching cartoons on television. Janey was curled up on his lap, and Clint rested his chin on the top of her head. A sharp stab of anguish jolted Elyse. He did love Janey, and he would have been a marvelous father, both for her and for the children they would have had together.
She took a deep breath and looked away for a moment before she walked into the room. "Janey," she said, interrupting the child's concentration on The adventures of Alvin and the Chipmunks, "I laid your clothes out on your bed. You'd better run up and get dressed."
Janey huddled deeper in Clint's arms. "Aw, Mommy, we're watchin' the Chipmunks."
Clint straightened up and lifted her off his lap. "Do as your mother says, honey. You can finish watching the program on the set upstairs. Now scoot."
"Don't go till I get back, promise?" she asked.
"Cross my heart," he said, drawing an X on the left side of his chest. Then he gave her a playful shove in the right direction, and she laughed and scrambled out of the room.
Elyse turned off the set and sat down in the chair beside it. "All right, Clint, what do you want?"
Gone was the smile and the good humor he'd displayed for Janey. He looked even worse than she did. But of course, he'd been sick for a week, which would explain it. He slumped forward and put his elbows on his knees. "How can you even ask what I want? We have so much to talk about, to straighten out."
She bit back a groan. Why couldn't he just say "It's been nice knowin' ya" and leave? Was it really necessary to hash over the whole thing?
"No, we don't," she said firmly. "I'm not asking for explanations. I wish you'd been more truthful with me, but I've known all along how you felt about Dinah—"
"That's nothing short of miraculous," he snapped, "since it's a hell of a lot more than I've known. I wish you'd stop jumping to conclusions and let me tell you."
Elyse sank back in her chair and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, but this is very painful for me. I'd hoped we wouldn't have to put ourselves through a long postmortem."
"There's no postmortem unless something dies," he said quietly, "and our engagement isn't dead. I haven't been committing adultery with Dinah."
She opened her eyes. "You can't commit adultery unless one of the partners is married. Are you telling me Dinah has a husband?"
"No, but I have a fiancée, and in my book that's every bit as binding as marriage. I wouldn't cheat on you, Elyse."
Oh, God, if he'd only go away and leave her alone. She couldn't take much more of this. It would be easier if he'd just let her think the worst of him.
"I know you wouldn't, Clint. I'm sorry if I implied that's what I thought."
His head jerked up. "You what? But you said—"
"I know what I said, and I'm telling you now that I know I was wrong. I didn't come to that conclusion by myself, though. Alice convinced me."
"Alice! What the hell does Alice know about it?"
The corners of Elyse's mouth quirked upward. "She knows that you weren't, and I quote, 'tusslin' Dinah in bed or anywhere else'."
Clint dropped his face in his hands and muttered an obscenity. "So much for privacy in my own home," he grunted sarcastically. "Would you mind telling me why you believed her and not me or Dinah?"
"Not at all. If you'd seen how embarrassed she was to be talking about it, you'd have believed her, too."
She told him about her conversation with his housekeeper and how it had come about. "She's kind and thoughtful, and I appreciate her trying to intervene. You have to admit you both looked guilty. How would you have felt if Jerry were still alive, and he had left me and you'd come over to find us coming out of my bedroom together, me dressed in a nightgown and negligee and him in shorts and nothing else?"
He looked at her, and when he spoke his tone was rough. "I'd have killed him first and asked questions later. When you put it that way, I'd say you behaved with remarkable restraint. Does this mean you'll take your ring back?"
She wasn't sure whether he sounded hopeful or apprehensive.
"No, Clint," she said sadly. "I know you're an honorable man, but while you may be able to control your actions, you can't be expected to control your feelings. You were honest when you proposed to me. You told me you were in love with Dinah. I agreed to marry you anyway because I loved you and I thought she was out of your life forever. But now she's come back, and everything's changed."
He rubbed his hands across his face. "Elyse, when I asked you to marry me I told you I was in love with you. You asked about Dinah, and I said I had been in love with her years ago. I haven't been nursing an unrequited passion for the past four years. I'm not that self-destructive."
She wanted to go to him and put her arms around him, but she couldn't. She didn't dare. If he held her, kissed her, she'd never be able to give him up.
She shifted far back in the chair and planted her feet firmly on the floor to hold herself there. "I know you didn't 'nurse' your love for Dinah after she left, but it was there all the same. I heard it in your voice and saw it on your face when you were telling me about her. Even so, I think we could have been happy if she'd stayed away, but now I'm no longer willing to take that chance. You're free, for God's sake, so why are you arguing?"
"I'm arguing because I didn't ask to be free. You're the one who's weaving romantic fantasies about me finally getting together with my lost love and wandering off into the sunset. She wasn't lost, dammit, and I didn't ask her to come back."
Elyse was taken by surprise. "You mean you knew where she was all along?"
Clint shook his head. "No, but I could have found out with very little effort."
Elyse's eyes widened. "Then why didn't you? Don't tell me you didn't want her, because you've already described quite graphically how broken up you were."
"That's true, I was. I went through hell, and frankly, I've had all I intend to put up with. No man with any smarts is going to give a woman a second chance to do that to him. I wasn't going to force her to marry me or, worse yet, seduce her into it. If she's changed her mind now, that's her problem."
Elyse was puzzled. Was he denying he was still in love with Dinah? If so, why didn't he just come right out and say it?
She decided to probe, but carefully. "Has she changed her mind, Clint?"
He hesitated. "I don't know. She says she's missed me."
"And you've missed her." It wasn't a question.
"I've already told you I did," he said impatiently, "but now I have you."
"No, you don't. I broke our engagement, remember? You no longer have to consider me. There's nothing dishonorable now about asking her to marry you. You don't owe me anything."
He stood and began to pace. "Maybe not, but you owe me something. You told me you loved me and accepted my proposal of marriage. You owe it to me to honor that acceptance unless you can give me a lot better reason than you have so far for not doing so."
Elyse knew she should be elated. He not only wanted to marry her, he was practically blackmailing her into it. So why was she holding back? Something was wrong, but she couldn't quite identify it.
"I still don't understand why you let Din
ah come to see you three days in a row when you not only didn't tell me but wouldn't let me anywhere near you."
He clamped his hand around the back of his neck. "You know why I wouldn't let you come over. I didn't want to expose you and Janey to the flu. As for telling you about Dinah's visits, I would have when I saw you. I just didn't see a need to discuss it over the phone."
"Because you knew it would upset me?"
He looked sheepish. "Yes."
"Then why did you encourage her?"
He started to pace again. "I… I don't know. Curiosity, I guess. I wanted to talk to her, to know what she'd been doing these past four years, how she was getting along."
"Did you find out?"
"Yes, she worked at the United Nations for a year, then was offered the job with the embassy in France. That's where she's living now."
"And she's still in love with you?"
He looked startled. "Love was never the problem with us—she always said she loved me. But she wouldn't marry me."
"Would she marry you now?"
"I don't know. I didn't ask her."
"Why didn't you?"
He glared at her. "Oh, knock it off, dammit. I didn't ask her because I want to marry you, and the sooner the better."
She was pushing him and she didn't mean to, but for both their sakes she had to know what his true feelings were.
"Why the rush? Until this week you weren't in any hurry. You weren't even anxious to announce the engagement."
He ran his fingers through his hair. "That's not true."
"All right," she said wearily. "I'll concede the point. It's not worth arguing about."
She walked over and stood in front of him. "Why do you want to marry me, Clint? Is it because you love me, or is it because you want me to protect you from yourself?"
He blinked in astonishment. "That's the craziest thing I ever heard."
She looked away. "Is it? The love you felt for Dinah was very deep and very special, and when she rejected you the pain and loneliness were shattering. Then you met me, and I would have married you anywhere, anytime. I was safe, and you dared to open up to me and let yourself feel strongly again. But Dinah came back, and as you said, no man would let himself be hurt twice by the same woman, so you're determined not to examine your feelings for her,"
Cross My Heart Page 17