That night in Paris, Natalie had opened the hotel door with her key. By the time she had entered the room, Jacquelyn was off the bed and trying to straighten her dress. Scott had moved over by the window.
Natalie's black eyes had taken in the scene at a glance—the rumpled bed, Jacquelyn's disheveled appearance. She had turned pale as an expression of mingled hurt and anger crossed her face.
Jacquelyn had felt her face grow hot from embarrassment mingled with her own feelings of anger. The atmosphere in the room was charged with tension. For a brittle moment, no one spoke. Then with surprising casualness Scott asked, "Where's Austin?"
Jacquelyn stared at him with disbelief. How could he be so cool under the circumstances?
Without taking her eyes off Jacquelyn, Natalie had drawn a deep breath, touching her tongue to her lips. Then she said, "Austin went to your room looking for you, Scott. We didn't know what had happened—why you didn't show up. We got worried…" Her voice trailed off. She seemed very close to tears.
Jacquelyn watched Scott expectantly. It was his place to clarify this situation. It would be impossible to resume relationships as if nothing had happened. Surely Scott would make his feelings clear, would tell Natalie what had happened tonight, about the passion that had been rekindled between him and Jacquelyn. She couldn't believe that he would simply shrug off the past few hours.
But that was exactly what he did!
"We had car trouble," he said shortly. He strode past the two of them then hesitated at the door. "I'll see if Austin wants to go back to the club."
"No," Natalie murmured. "I don't want to go."
"Neither do I," Jacquelyn said, feeling dazed. A pain, growing in her chest, cut off any further words. This would have been the proper moment for Scott to make clear his true feelings about her. Not two minutes ago they had been rushing headlong into a raging storm of passion. She had been willing to surrender herself completely to the moment. But now Scott had withdrawn behind a shell of cold reserve. She felt shut out and abandoned as he left, closing the door behind him.
Natalie moved past her. She gazed out the window, her exquisitely beautiful features now chiseled in icy stone. "So Scott won," she murmured sadly, "… and we both lost."
"I—I don't know what you mean," Jacquelyn said, though of course, she did.
"Yes you do." Natalie turned. Her wide dark eyes seemed to engulf the room. "I warned you about Scott's intentions, but you wouldn't listen. Or maybe you did listen but thought you could take care of yourself. I knew once Scott combined his masculine charm with this Paris setting you'd be an easy target. He got what he wanted from you, Jacquelyn. He got his revenge. And now he's laughing at you."
"He didn't get anything," Jacquelyn mumbled.
And that was a lie. He had gotten everything. Perhaps not in the physical sense—though he would have had that, too, if Natalie hadn't burst in on them. But he took all she had to offer emotionally, and she had nothing left. She felt totally drained. At the moment, she couldn't feel anything, not even regret, though she knew that would come soon in bitter, drowning waves.
"I'm awfully tired, Natalie," she sighed. "I just want to go to sleep."
But sleep was not for her—not that night. Long after Natalie was asleep in the other bed, Jacquelyn stared up at the darkened ceiling. After a while she slipped out of bed, crept over to the heavy draperies and pulled them aside. The lights of Paris twinkled below.
She stood motionless, her gaze wandering over the city, her heart feeling dead and heavy in her chest. Was Natalie telling the truth? She went over every moment of the past hours that she had been with Scott. She searched her memory for one time Scott had mentioned the word "love" to her, but it was not there. She had been too dazzled by those shimmering hours to have questioned that at the time.
Jacquelyn felt tears bubbling up in her eyes. She stifled a sob that threatened to rip through her. As she gazed at the scene below her, she realized at last why Paris had captivated her so completely. She was in love with the city, true. But more than that, she was hopelessly in love with Scott McCrann. Had always loved him. Would always love him. No matter how ruthless he could be, no matter what he had done to Gerrard—and to her. There was a weakness in her where Scott was concerned that she could not fight. She could hide behind a shield of hate, tell herself that she was safe against Scott's appeal. But given the right time, the right moment, and his touch could set her on fire, melting all the resolve she had thought she possessed.
Face it, Jacquelyn, she told herself. Where Scott McCrann is concerned, you are simply not to be trusted. He's done it to you before. He'll do it again, unless you take really drastic steps.
A tear stole down her cheek, for she knew that no matter how deep her passion for Scott was, all she was ever going to have of him were the bittersweet memories of this one night. And now the memories were hot and fresh—the images of Scott and his unruly brown hair, his blue-eyed gaze hungrily roaming over her face, his lanky, lithe frame. She remembered how his arms felt when he slipped them around her, the warmth of his mouth on hers, the texture of his skin touching her bare, willing flesh.
A tingle ran down her spine. She closed her eyes and hugged the drapery close around her, sliding back and forth in its cool, soft lining, pretending it was Scott holding her.
But after a while the picture faded, and Jacquelyn had to face the cold reality that she was all alone and the cloth around her was only a feeble substitute for the man she loved.
But the cold, bitter fact remained that he didn't love her anymore. Desired her, yes. But love had died long ago when her refusal to marry him had killed the tenderness he had once felt, leaving only a bitter, angry desire in him to conquer and hurt her. Certainly if he had loved her he would have stood by her side and made it clear to Natalie tonight.
After they had returned to the States, his actions underscored the situation. He became engulfed in a whirlwind of business trips and activities, acting cold, preoccupied and withdrawn. He made no effort to clarify his feelings for her beyond what had happened between them that night.
It was a bitter pill for Jacquelyn to swallow but she had to admit it—Natalie had been right all along.
So she had made the decision to accept Austin's proposal. It was the last defense she had left against a lifetime of heartbreak at the hands of a ruthless man who could take her at will and give nothing in return but regrets. Austin would never hurt her. He would cherish and care for her and protect her. And only Scott's memory could hurt her. For she was not the kind of woman who could be unfaithful to her husband. In time, the memory of Scott would fade. It would never leave, but she would be able to fit it into a secret compartment of her heart. She would not be the first woman to carry the memory of such a lost love with her all the days of her life.
In time, she would grow to love Austin. They would have a family. She would have a normal life.
"I've waited a long time, Jacquelyn," Austin said, taking her hand in his.
"Yes." Jacquelyn smiled. "Ever since we were children. I think the first time we had a pretend wedding was right here in the garden under that oak tree. We were eight years old."
Austin nodded. "I remember. It was a double ceremony. Natalie 'married' your brother, Gerrard. Both you girls wore old lace curtains for wedding gown trains."
"And we threw rice at each other that we'd stolen from Hattie's kitchen."
How poignant those memories were. How much happier all their lives would be now if Scott McCrann had never entered them. The four of them would be married the way they'd planned as children, and probably with the same trusting innocence of children.
But a part of her did not regret that there was a chapter in her life called "Scott McCrann," for though it had left her with heartbreak, it had also left her with the memory of what the real love experience—the grand passion—was like. And that, at least, was more than some women ever experienced.
Perhaps the fates had decided it was enough for
her. Perhaps the realization of such a love was too much for the cold imperfect realities of life.
She drew a deep breath, firmly putting those thoughts aside and coming to grips with the true moment. She held Austin's hands in hers, gazing directly into his eyes. "Austin, we've been too close for too many years for me ever to lie to you. You have to understand that although I have agreed to marry you, I'm not in love with you. I love you… but I'm not in love with you. Do you understand? Perhaps we've been so close for so many years that I feel a different kind of love for you, a tenderness, a companionship, a friendship. But I don't want to delude you."
He smiled crookedly. "Of course you're not deluding me, Jacquelyn. And I'm not deluding myself. Listen, some very successful marriages have been built on exactly the kind of friendship and understanding we have. I know we're going to be just fine together. And in time you'll know you did the right thing. We're going to have a good marriage."
Was he trying to convince her—or himself? she wondered afterward.
Jacquelyn broke the news to Scott the next day. They were sitting on the stone benches in the garden with the cool drapery of greenery surrounding them. The fountain, which had been repaired, now splashed softly.
From the direction of the roque court came the hard "smack" of a mallet against a ball. Uncle Luther and Austin were having an afternoon game.
Scott was relaxing with a mint julep and a cigar. "Everything is running very smoothly," he said, gesturing toward the white-columned mansion, which could be seen through the trees.
"Yes," Jacquelyn murmured absently.
Peace had settled over the great house after weeks of hectic activity by the army of carpenters. One remaining crew was finishing the trim work on the last wing of the mansion. Then it was just a matter of waiting until the final shipments of antiques arrived from Paris and her work would be completed. She should feel a great sense of accomplishment; the restoration of Cypress Halls was an outstanding success. Scott was enormously pleased and Uncle Luther was ecstatic. Already some national home and architectural magazines had contacted them about doing feature articles and photographic spreads on the house. But instead of savoring her achievement, Jacquelyn felt only a sense of emptiness.
"You seem quite preoccupied," Scott commented.
"Do I?"
She heard another crack of a ball on the roque court.
"Yes," Scott persisted. "You should be feeling quite pleased with yourself. The job you did on the mansion will be a feather in your professional cap."
From the roque court came a frustrated exclamation as Uncle Luther made a bad play.
She gathered her courage and said, "Well, I am pleased about that. In fact, I'm quite happy today, and not only because the restoration turned out so well." She paused. The afternoon seemed to grow still and oppressive. She said, "The main reason I'm happy is that I've agreed to marry Austin."
A pungent swear word sliced the air. Uncle Luther had lost the game.
For a moment, Scott seemed to have become a part of the stone bench on which he was seated. His cigar and drink hovered in midair. The lines around his mouth had grown deep and severe. His fingers whitened around the drink he was holding.
Oh, Scott, her heart cried out, this is the moment of truth for us. It isn't too late. Tell me you love me and you refuse to let another man have me. Throw your cigar down. Swear and stomp around. Grab me by the shoulders and tell me I belong to you.
The moment hung between them and then was gone forever…
He rose slowly. His face seemed a bit pale, but he showed no other emotion. If some last shred of hope in her had cried out for a final testing, for the last convincing proof that Scott did not love her, she had it now.
The hope quietly died as Scott said, "Well, fine. I hope you and Austin will be very happy." He placed his drink on a garden table. For a moment he towered over Jacquelyn. There was a menacing quality about him that suddenly unnerved her. Was he furious that by accepting Austin's proposal she had outmaneuvered him and robbed him of the consummation of his revenge?
"Why don't we make it a double ceremony?" he suddenly said, his eyes overpowering her with their intensity.
"A double ceremony?" she echoed blankly.
"Yes. Natalie and I, too, are going to be married."
Chapter Nine
"Are you sure you're doing the right thing, Jacquelyn?"
"Of course, Aunt Perforce," Jacquelyn laughed.
She looked down at the stack of wedding invitations on the desk in front of her. Two piles—one for her and the other for Natalie. Aunt Perforce had just delivered the set of announcements she had helped Natalie address. Since she had raised Natalie and Austin, Aunt Perforce was taking on the duties normally relegated to a mother.
The older woman was giving Jacquelyn one of her typical searching, pessimistic looks. "I wonder," she murmured. "Have you really gotten Scott McCrann out of your system enough to marry another man?"
A flush stung Jacquelyn's cheeks. "Aunt Perforce! What a thing to say." She felt a mixture of exasperation and uneasiness. No one else on the face of the earth could be as blunt and outspoken as her eccentric aunt. The fact that the older woman was touching some nerve ends very close to Jacquelyn's heart did not help her emotional state.
"Well," declared Aunt Perforce, rising from her chair and preparing to leave, "I have some very uneasy vibrations about this situation. I'm going to spend the afternoon casting new horoscopes for you, Natalie and Austin. I hope the stars will reassure me by proving me wrong."
Jacquelyn suppressed a smile. "I'm sure the stars will tell you everything is going to be fine, Aunt Perforce," she said, though she knew from experience that her aunt never got anything but dire predictions from the stars.
Perhaps in this case they might be right, she thought with a sudden stab of pain.
But she brushed the dark thoughts aside just as quickly. No! She wasn't going to allow Aunt Perforce's gloomy mood to throw her into another state of depression. She had been all through that and had made a truce with her heart. A kind of quiet peace had taken the place of heartbreak. Perhaps it was resignation… accepting what life had finally given her. She was through with weeping over Scott McCrann and what might have been. That had been a dream from which she must awaken. Marriage to Austin and their life together was the reality she must occupy herself with now. She had plunged headlong into preparations for the giant formal wedding that would take place in the restored mansion.
Keeping busy day and night, she had discovered, was the very best antidote for a broken heart.
Having placed the last of the stamps on the invitations, Jacquelyn rose from her chair and stretched. As she headed for the mailbox with her bundle of invitations, she ran into Uncle Luther in the hallway.
"How's the bride-to-be?" he asked jovially.
"Fine, Uncle Luther." She smiled, putting on a cheerful expression.
"Just saw Perforce leave."
"Yes, she brought over some invitations she'd helped Natalie address."
"Well, it's good she's had something to do besides staring at those ridiculous astrological charts of hers all day. Poor woman isn't quite all there, you know." He tapped his temple with a significant gesture.
Jacquelyn suppressed a smile, remembering that Aunt Perforce had said exactly the same thing about Uncle Luther.
"You know, Jacquelyn," her uncle said, placing his long arm around her shoulder and walking with her toward the front of the mansion, "I don't know when I've been so happy."
"I've noticed the change in you," Jacquelyn said warmly.
"Yes, the arrangements you young people are making for this gala double wedding have been more beneficial to me than any medicine. To see Cypress Halls restored to its dignity and splendor and once again the center of a great social event has been a tonic for my old heart." He tapped his chest and smiled.
He went on, "I see that Scott is sparing no expense. He's invited notable people from all over the South—poli
tical figures, celebrities, people in the news. I was reading the guest list." He chuckled. "It looks like a string of pages out of Who's Who. Scott is flying in his favorite chef from Paris as well as an orchestra from New Orleans. Not since the pre-Civil War days, when the Cordoway family was in its heyday, has the mansion seen such an extravagant event."
Uncle Luther helped her place the invitations in the mailbox. "Ah, I see you're sending an invitation to Gerrard."
"Of course. You don't think I'd leave my own brother off the invitation list, do you?" she smiled.
"Well, I should hope not. Though I doubt if that young rascal will show up." He shook his head. "Don't mind telling you, Jacquelyn, that boy is something of a disappointment to me. Always had a wild streak in him. Caused me a lot of worry. He never did have his feet on the ground the way you did."
"He's been going through a rough time in his life, Uncle Luther," Jacquelyn said. She felt obliged to go to the defense of her brother, though she did not want to go into all the details of Gerrard's troubles. It was a matter best forgotten now.
"Yes, I suppose young men have their problems. Wouldn't hurt him to write me once in a while, though. Haven't heard a peep from him in months."
"Gerrard never was one for writing letters," Jacquelyn admitted.
"Well," said her uncle, brightening up, "let's take a stroll around the mansion. I just can't look enough at the beautiful job you've done on this place, my dear."
For a while, as they walked through the many rooms and talked over old times, Jacquelyn felt a warm inner glow. For this moment, it was enough that Uncle Luther was in his glory.
Events began to pick up speed. Jacquelyn and Natalie spent several days in New Orleans making the final selection of their wedding dresses. They chose the flowers and decided on two wedding cakes. They made a decision on a mutual friend to sing at the ceremony. Jacquelyn made arrangements for the staff of servants who would see that the functions of the mansion ran smoothly.
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