As You Wish

by Jude Deveraux

  Kit opened his mouth to reply, but he couldn’t hold back. He started laughing. “My mother would agree with you, but I...”

  Olivia waited for him to continue but he said nothing else.

  He sat down on her cream-colored chair. “I was thinking of buying some bikes for those rapscallion kids. Anywhere around here I can get them?”

  Olivia pulled a jumper and three blouses out of her closet and put them on the bed. “Trumbull’s Appliances can order what you want, but otherwise you need to go to Richmond or Charlottesville.”

  “That’s the same way we do it where I live.”

  “Oh?” she said in an encouraging way.

  “Warbrooke, Maine. The town was founded by an ancestor of mine and it’s full of my relatives. If we don’t want to marry a cousin we have to go out of state.”

  “And what if you do want to marry a cousin?” She pulled out a Bill Blass pantsuit, off-white with gold buttons. She was tired of wearing worn-out dresses all the time. Maybe one evening they could use the big mahogany table in the dining room.

  “That’s as likely as your going out with the kid who delivers the propane.”

  “I don’t know... Alfie’s kind of cute.”

  “He certainly thinks you are.” There was venom in Kit’s voice. “And the guy who said he stopped by to see the old men couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

  Olivia looked at him, startled. He was frowning deeply. “That’s Ted. His father owns the furniture store. I hardly know him.”

  Kit didn’t reply, but he seemed annoyed. He got up, mumbled something about seeing her later, then left the room.

  Olivia stood there for a moment. What in the world was wrong with him? She tossed a blue jacket by Pierre Cardin on the bed, then pulled out a red jumpsuit. It had a halter top and wide legs, with a small waist. Maybe they’d have a picnic under the magnolia tree. She got out a few more items, some jewelry, a few pair of shoes, then pulled a suitcase from under her bed and packed. She took her time doing it as she didn’t want to give him the idea that she was in a hurry to go into town with him.

  When she finished, she sat down on the bed. She needed to think about what she was doing. She knew she was very—okay, extremely—attracted to him, but it couldn’t possibly go anywhere. In New York, her cast mates had tried to look on the bright side of spending the summer waiting for the play to begin. A summer affair seemed to be what most of them planned. “Summer jobs, summer sex,” one of them said.

  Olivia had wanted to seem as worldly as they were so she’d agreed. But a summer affair with a teenager? Then what? Break his heart when she went back to New York? When he was fifty, would he talk about the famous actress who’d ripped his heart out? That wasn’t something she wanted associated with her name.

  The sound of voices drew her out of her thoughts. No one was supposed to be home. Who in the world had he invited into her parents’ home?

  She entered the living room just as her father and Kit came in from the hall that led to her father’s study. Since he’d retired from banking, he’d indulged himself in his love of ancient history, even to writing a few papers.

  “There you are,” her dad said. He was shorter than Kit and a bit slumped from years at a desk, but he was still handsome. “Your young man has been telling me about his life in Egypt. He’s even invited your mother and me to stay at his parents’ house in Cairo in January.”

  Years of acting lessons helped her hide her shock at hearing this. “How nice,” Olivia managed to say, then added, “He’s not my young man. He’s only nineteen years old.”

  “Oh, I see. My mistake.”

  Olivia glared at her father. She knew when he was laughing at her. As for Kit, his eyes were also laughing. “Are you ready to go?” she snapped. “Or do you want to stay and discuss Tutankhamun’s tomb—which you probably helped to build.”

  Mr. Paget looked shocked at his daughter’s rudeness.

  “Actually,” Kit said, “I did see his tomb. It was opened for just a few hours and my father came to get me out of bed at three a.m. to go see it. I was ten years old and it was all very exciting.”

  With each word, Mr. Paget’s eyes widened. “Is it...? Does it...?”

  “Could you get my suitcase?” Olivia said to Kit as she went to the front door. Once she was outside, she wanted to kick herself. What was it about that boy that brought out the worst in her? When he was around, she seemed to go through every emotion. Anger, laughter, lust, a feeling that she had to win, all of it so strong that they nearly killed her. And she had to admit, sometimes jealousy. The kids, Uncle Freddy, Mr. Gates, and now her own father seemed to adore him. He could do no wrong. They seemed to think he was brilliant, entertaining, a hard worker, and now it looked like he was a world traveler. A house in Cairo! Not Cairo—pronounced K-row—Illinois, but the real one. Pyramids. Sphinx shot up by the Turks. Really! Was there no end to the boy’s good qualities?

  He came out with her suitcase in his hand and put it in the back of the truck. He started to go around to her side to open the door but she did it by herself.

  Kit started the truck and headed toward town. But then, he pulled over beside Mr. Ellis’s cow pasture, turned off the engine, got out, and opened her door. “We need to talk.”

  Olivia looked straight ahead and didn’t move.

  “If I have to pick you up, I will.”

  She got out of the truck, but her expression let him know that she didn’t like his attitude.

  There was a gate nearby and he motioned to it. They walked together for a while until they came to a pretty rock formation. Olivia had been to it many times when she was a child.

  Stepping back, Kit held out his hand. He was motioning for her to sit down.

  For a while, they sat a yard apart, silently watching the cows grazing in the field.

  “I grew up all over the world,” he began. “My father is in the diplomatic service. He worked his way up from being a kid who carried the briefcase of some major to being a traveling advisor. If there was a problem in the Middle East, he was often called in to fix it. My mother followed him everywhere—and she dragged her three kids with her. I’m the youngest so I’ve been to more countries, been exposed to more cultures and languages than they have.”

  For a while, Olivia didn’t say anything. It seemed that he was saying something very serious. Should they give free rein to the strong emotions between them or pull back? Stop it before it started? “I have a career ahead of me. I’ve worked for it since I was a child.”

  “And I have something waiting for me too,” he said.

  She gave him time to tell her what he was going to do, but he didn’t explain. She knew he wasn’t going to say any more. “We’ll be friends,” she said, and he nodded in reply. So be it, she thought. Or as he had said, “As you wish.” They had set boundaries. They hadn’t openly acknowledged their...their attraction to each other. But in a way they had—and they were in agreement about it. Now was not the right time for either of them. They had lives ahead of them and they didn’t want them interrupted. Friendship was their destiny.

  “What’s the big secret about Ace?” Kit asked. “And what’s the kid’s real name?”

  She turned to him. “No one told you?”

  Kit shook his head. “I’ve been working rather a lot so I’ve not had time for chats.”

  “Me too,” she said. “But coq au vin can’t compete with single-handedly raising old tombstones.”

  “They told me you were doing a better job.”

  Looking at each other, they laughed. It seemed that the old men had been playing them against each other. Their shared amusement cleared the air.

  Olivia took a breath. “Ace’s name is Kyle Chapman and his mother is dying of ovarian cancer. His father is the town’s only doctor, and between patients and his wife, he can’t care for the child. And besides,
Ace needs Letty.”

  “That poor boy. He’s so young.”

  “You’re not going to look at him with pity, are you?”

  “No,” Kit said. “I’m going to—” He turned his head away.

  When she heard his breath catch in his throat, Olivia reached out and took his hand. “I think we need to act as normal as possible.”

  “Maybe tie the two of them up in a tree with purple yarn?” He looked back at her and when he held her hand tighter, she pulled it away. They were too alone in a beautiful setting to risk touching.

  “I vote that we give the children the best summer they ever had,” she said.

  “Lavish them with gifts? Christmas every day? That sort of thing?” he asked.

  “Absolutely not! First of all, we need to get them back for tying us up and I think the attic is haunted and Old Thomas is from a planet called Zenos.”

  With each word, Kit’s smile widened. “I like how you think. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Didn’t I see a tea shop in town? Let’s drink a gallon and eat pounds while we come up with some scary things to do to those brats. And I want to order some bikes.”

  “Can you afford them?” Olivia put her hand up. “Let me guess. You’re rich.”

  He stood up and held out his hand out to her. “That’s just one of many bad things about me. Did you bring your script? Can I play Wickham and run off with the girl?”

  “Lydia is an idiot.” Taking his hand, she stood up.

  He leaped off the rock, then put his hands on her waist, and swung her down to the ground. “Remind me to call my dad to tell him he’ll have a couple of visitors in January.”

  “Would they really do that? You can’t imagine what it would mean to my father. Do you have to take a Jeep to get to the pyramids?”

  “Ha! They’re across the road from Mena House Hotel. There’s a highway that runs right past the pyramids.”

  “He’ll be disappointed.”

  “Don’t worry. There are lots of places that will fascinate him. Egypt is magic.” He opened the truck door for her and she got in.

  Kit walked around the back of the truck so she wouldn’t see his smile. Friends, he thought. That’s what she wanted them to be. And if that’s what she needed right now, he’d give it to her.

  As for him, he’d found the woman he loved and would always love—and he was going to do whatever it took to get her. He’d just take his time, go as slowly as she needed him to.

  And when the time was right... He smiled. She wouldn’t know what hit her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “That’s what he told you?” Kathy asked. “That he planned to get you no matter what he had to do?”

  “He didn’t tell me then what he was thinking, but he did on our honeymoon.”

  “You mean recently.”

  “Yes,” Olivia said. “Very recently.”

  Elise and Kathy were silent as they thought about what they were hearing. All that Olivia was telling them happened long ago. Even if they hadn’t been told of their love now, it was easy to see where the young couple was headed. Yet they had spent their lives apart.

  “When did you turn from friendship to passion?” Elise asked. “Some moonlit night? You saw naked Kit under a tree and you were so overcome with lust that you couldn’t contain yourself?”

  Olivia and Kathy were staring at her.

  “Honey,” Kathy said, “you need a man.” Olivia nodded in agreement.

  “I’m ready, but the only one I’ve seen is Ray and I wouldn’t have him if—” She looked at Kathy in horror. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disparage your husband. He’s quite nice. Lovely to look at. Olivia and I made him sit around shirtless for hours and he—” Again, she broke off. “I think I’ll shut up now. Is there any iced tea? I’ve had more than enough wine.”

  Kathy looked at Elise for a moment longer, then back at Olivia, who was filling a glass for Elise. “How long did your sweet, innocent friendship last?”

  “Wait a minute,” Elise said. “I want to know about the children. You told us that Ace grew up to be a doctor, but what happened to Letty? Please tell me those kids grew up to marry each other.”

  “No, they didn’t,” Olivia said. “When the kids were about ten, Bill got a job in California and they quit spending summers at Tattwell. Letty married a man she met in college. You know the actor Tate Landers?”

  “Sure. Who doesn’t?” Kathy said.

  “He’s almost as beautiful as Alejandro. Not quite, but close.”

  “He’s Letty’s son.” She paused. “And he recently married one of Ace’s daughters.”

  “That’s good,” Kathy said. “Really great. Does the name Tate come from Tattwell?”

  “Tate is short for Tatton and both names came from Tattington. His sister’s name is Nina.” Olivia paused for a moment. “Tate bought the plantation in memory of his mother.”

  “In memory?” Elise said. “Oh no! I think I hate knowing the future. Poor Ace and his mother, and poor Letty dying young. And you and Kit.” There were tears in her eyes.

  “Tell us some more good things,” Kathy said. “Tell us about you and Kit being friends and the wonderful things you did for the children.”

  “My mother...” For a moment, Olivia had to blink away tears. All this talk was bringing up some painful memories. “My mother knew me so well. I talked to her every day on the phone. At first all I did was complain, but gradually, I began asking her how to do things. About twice a week she showed up with cooking equipment that I needed or something that would help me. Back then, I was too young and dumb—sorry, Elise—to understand how much she did.”

  “No offense taken,” Elise said, “but we all tend to mess up our lives, no matter what our age.”

  “Ouch!” Olivia said, making them laugh. “Mom foresaw that two old Southern men and two little kids were going to get sick of elegant French cuisine. Before they did, she handed me a shoe box. Inside were big index cards with recipes for meat loaf, beef stew, chicken and dumplings, fish with hush puppies, et cetera. All homey things. The first time I again served them Campbell’s tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, I thought the four of them were going to start crying.”

  “What about the bikes?” Kathy asked.

  “The Saturday after he met my dad, Kit and I drove into Richmond to get them.” She smiled in memory. “It was a nice trip. He told me so much about himself that I didn’t realize he was leaving out the biggest parts. He talked about his first year in college, about majoring in poly sci, his friends, his family. All of it. At least I thought he did. He just left out that he was planning to go undercover to infiltrate Muammar Gaddafi’s new regime.”

  Both Kathy and Elise drew in their breaths in horror.

  “Right. Back then we had no idea what the man was like. There was no hint of what was coming.”

  Elise put her hands over her face. “I don’t want to hear the bad things. Poor Ace and Letty and now Kit.”

  “Was Kit hurt?” Kathy spoke quickly, before Elise could add Olivia’s first marriage to the list of bad.

  “Yes. It’s a wonder he can still walk, but the good part was that he was declared unfit to be a soldier. That’s what made him go into diplomacy. But I always knew that was his calling. I saw it that first summer.”

  “You have to tell us,” Elise said.

  “But first,” Kathy said, “tell us about the children and the bikes. Did they like them?”

  Olivia took a sip of her wine. “Yes and no. Kit and I agreed that if we gave them two shiny new bikes as gifts they’d be so suspicious that they might not use them. So we decorated them.” She smiled. “With pond slime. Letty’s bike was silver and Ace’s black, but Kit and I covered them with mud and all the icky things we could dig out of the pond.”

  For a moment Olivia loo
ked off in the distance in memory. “One rainy afternoon I was teaching the kids—and by that I mean all four of them—how to put papier-mâché strips over balloons. When the sun came out, Kit burst through the door in a rage. Furious! We were all shocked. He said he could no longer work in the wood shop because there was so much useless junk in there that he had to throw some out. He said the first thing to go were those old bicycles he’d found in the back. He said they must be a hundred years old. That was all the kids needed. They took off running.”

  Olivia sipped her wine. “Kit and I tried to get them to wash off the mud and slime but they never did. They truly loved those bikes!”

  The women were silent for a moment, thinking how good it was to have given so much pleasure to children whose futures were less than perfect.

  Olivia leaned back in her chair. “I knew Kit was a born diplomat the day the children killed Uncle Freddy.”

  As she meant, Elise and Kathy looked at her with eyes wide with horror. “Everyone was in hysterics. You see, Kit had been giving the children swimming lessons, but they were forbidden to get in the pond without adult supervision.”

  “And Uncle Freddy was an adult.” Kathy was frowning, not sure she wanted to hear this story if it had a tragic ending.

  Olivia nodded. “That’s exactly what I said then.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Summer Hill, Virginia 1970

  Olivia was hanging sheets on the line and Kit was helping her keep them from touching the ground. The washerwoman they’d hired had a sick grandchild so the task had fallen to Olivia. She had a feeling the child wouldn’t be sick if it weren’t change-the-bedding day.

  But in the weeks since she and Kit had called a truce, they’d become good at helping each other with chores. They’d worked together to clean up the big kitchen garden. Nina had come over and mumbled about feeling guilty for not helping, but then, as always, she’d run off after Bill.

  “‘I’ll bet thee a thousand pounds to a crown we have a boy tomorrow nine month,’” Kit said.

  Olivia cracked up because she knew he was quoting from the movie Tom Jones.