Swansea Destiny

by Fayrene Preston

  "Thank you again for the chocolates, Arabella. As I'm sure Jacob told you, I have a bit of a sweet tooth."

  "Yes, he did mention you're fond of chocolates. I hope you enjoy them and the perfume." When she had gone upstairs to change, she had found an unopened perfume bottle and on impulse had wrapped it and brought it. She was glad she had.

  "Chanel No. 5 is my favorite scent."

  Jake suddenly straightened and leaned forward in his chair, smiling at his mother. "You've opened Arabella's presents. I think it's time you opened mine."

  A soft flush colored Gwendolyn's skin, just as if, Arabella thought, gazing at the charming sight, she were a young girl receiving a gift from her first beau.

  She sighed with a playful exasperation. "Oh, Jacob, I was going to save your gift for after dinner."

  "Well, you never know," he said, his tone gently teasing. "There might be something for you to open after dinner too. But I can't wait any longer for you to open this one." He pulled a large box from behind his chair and placed it in his mother's lap.

  "Oh, my goodness," she exclaimed, "what have you gone and done now?"

  With a grin he kneeled down in front of her and began to help her open the box, beautifully wrapped in silver paper with a big pink satin bow. "Well," he said, still with the same gently teasing tone, "let's just see what I've gone and done now."

  "Now, don't break the ribbon," Gwendolyn cautioned her son.

  His grin widened. "No, Mother, I won't."

  Arabella realized that Jake was actually doing the unwrapping, because Gwendolyn with her arthritic hands couldn't, and furthermore, he was having a grand time.

  He handed her the bow. "There you are, all in a piece."

  Gwendolyn lifted the bow to within inches of her eyes. "Oh, it's so beautiful. Isn't it a beautiful bow, Arabella?"

  Touched, Arabella nodded, then realized Gwendolyn wasn't looking at her. "It certainly is, Mrs. Conall."

  Jake glanced at her, and for the first time since she had known him, Arabella saw a softness within the black depths of his eyes. The whole evening was worth that one look, she thought.

  With a flourish Jake lifted the lid from the box and parted the tissue paper. "There you are, Mother. What do you think?"

  Gwendolyn tentatively reached her hand into the box, then gasped with excitement. "A fur, Jacob. It's a fur."

  With a laugh he sat back on his heels. "Yes, I know. And it's really more than just a fur. It's a fur coat. A sable."

  "Oh, Jacob." Soft wonderment scored her face and her voice as she stroked the coat. "It feels magnificent."

  "That's because it is."

  Her hand stilled. "But you shouldn't have bought me this. It's too expensive, and you've already bought me two other fur coats."

  "Quit fussing," he chided gently. "Your other coats are mink and fox, and they're two and three years old. Now, you can't go around wearing old coats, can you?"

  She laughed as he had intended. "If you say so."

  "I do. And besides, we're having a really hard winter, and I want you warm." He lifted the coat from the box, tossed the box aside, and draped the coat around his mother's shoulders. "You look beautiful," he whispered, then pressed a soft kiss on her cheek. "Happy birthday for my valentine."

  "Oh, darling…"

  At that moment Arabella wished fervently for a camera so that she could capture for all time what she was seeing—Jake, kneeling at his mother's feet, his expression soft with love as he looked up at her. And Gwendolyn glowing with love as she reached out and touched his face.

  Arabella turned her head away, giving the two of them a moment of privacy and was embarrassed to realize her eyes had filled with tears. But she had the satisfaction of knowing that the picture would stay in her mind forever.

  Gwendolyn gave a gay laugh. "Arabella, what must you think of us? As you can see, my son spoils me terribly."

  Watching Jake return to his chair, Arabella followed Gwendolyn's lead and infused her voice with lightness. "I would say, on the basis of our short acquaintance, that you are very worthy .of being spoiled absolutely rotten, and that Jake gets a great deal of pleasure from doing so."

  Jake smiled at Arabella, and she was struck almost dumb by the sweetness and appreciation it held.

  "He bought me this lovely house and everything in it," Gwendolyn said. "And he has servants waiting on me hand and foot. He even hired a chauffeur and a car to take me out whenever I wish and a companion who does a grand job of describing to me what we're seeing."

  "How thoughtful of him," Arabella said with a glance toward Jake.

  He pushed out of the chair. "I think I'll go check on what's holding up dinner."

  A smile on her face, Gwendolyn listened to his footsteps as he left the room. "Now I've embarrassed him. He has so much money and power, yet he can't make me see better, and that hurts him."

  "Don't worry about your son," Arabella said dryly, "he can handle a little embarrassment."

  "He's a good boy," Gwendolyn said, "and I'm so glad he's found you."

  Arabella started. "I beg your pardon?"

  "You're the first girl he's ever brought home to meet me, and it's such a treat for me." She hesitated. "Would you mind coming a little closer so that I can see you better?"

  "Of course not," she said, scooting across the cushion.

  Tentatively Gwendolyn touched Arabella's face. "You are just as beautiful as Jacob said you were."

  "Jake said I was beautiful?"

  Gwendolyn nodded, her expression turning pensive. "He's been so lonely."

  "Mrs. Conall, you're mistaken. Jake's not lonely. He's always surrounded by people, especially when he's at SwanSea. He keeps that house full."

  "Don't be fooled by exteriors, Arabella." She spoke gently but firmly. "He has Lucas and Vanessa and me. That's all." She reached for her hand and took it between hers. "I'm so happy that at last he's found someone to love who is as special and as beautiful as you are."

  Arabella was stunned into silence.

  And Jake, who had just reached the doorway, heard what his mother said and swore silently.

  Absently Arabella smoothed her hand across the crushed-leather upholstery of the front seat of Jake's car. What was the reason for his silence since they had left his mother's house? The dinner had been lovely, and he hadn't given a sign that anything was bothering him. After dinner he had presented his mother with yet another birthday gift, a beautifully colored and patterned silk nightgown and robe set. His mother had been as excited and delighted as she had been with the sable coat, and understanding had dawned on Arabella that Jake was intent on surrounding his mother with every tactile and sensory pleasure he could think of—in his own way trying to make up for her failing eyesight.

  "Thank you for inviting me to your mother's tonight," she said quietly. "I really enjoyed meeting her."

  In the dim glow that came from the mahogany instrument panel, she saw Jake flex his gloved fingers on the steering wheel.

  "She enjoyed meeting you too."

  She waited for him to continue and was disappointed when he didn't. He seemed entirely different. When he had first come to her house he had seemed to really want to be with her. Now he seemed as though he couldn't wait to be rid of her.

  Tonight she had seen a side of him she hadn't known existed, a gentle, caring side. His adoration of his mother warmed her heart. And though having been a part of the evening's birthday celebration wouldn't make her unrequited love for him any easier to bear, she felt that she had learned a little more about him, and she wouldn't have missed the opportunity for the world.

  Jake pulled to a stop in front of her house but didn't turn off the motor.

  She stared at him in the semi-darkness of the car. His mother had said he was lonely. Vanessa had said, "I thought you said you saw him at SwanSea in the great hall your last night.' "

  Nothing made any sense to her.

  She opened the car door.

  He reached across her a
nd pulled the door closed again. "Wait a minute."

  "Yes?"

  "Thank you for being so nice to my mother."

  "Being nice to your mother was easy, Jake. She's a lovely person."

  He nodded, his expression moody. "She's been through a lot in her life. Arabella…"

  "What?"

  His words came out stilted. "I wanted to be with you tonight. I'm glad you accepted my invitation. I'd like to see you again."

  "Why? So we can have an affair?"

  All at once he leaned toward her and took her face between his two hands. "It's all I can offer you, Arabella." His tone was intense, the words huskily spoken. "I know you probably don't consider that much of an offer at all, but I'd try to make sure you were never sorry."

  "Jake." His name came out on a long breath of amazement. "Do you have any idea, any idea at all, what you're asking me to do?"

  "Probably not. All I can think of is how much I want to be with you, all the time, in every way…"

  She shook her head, wishing the action could shut his heated words from her mind. "Jake, I wasn't raised that way. You would be the first man I ever made love to, and I believe with all my heart that the first man I ever make love with should be the man I'm going to love my whole life long. My husband. Jake, I'm a virgin."

  He stared at her as what she said slowly soaked into him. He could hear the truth in her voice, see it in her eyes. She wasn't playing a game.

  "You ask too much," she said, opening the door and getting out.

  Jake watched her walk up the sidewalk to the door, furious with himself, with the circumstances. He felt disoriented, dizzy, as if the world were suddenly spinning too fast.

  She was a virgin.

  He had wanted like hell to be with her tonight, but he should have given more thought to the matter. It had never dawned on him that his mother would jump to the conclusion that he had found in Arabella the woman he could love. He watched grimly as Perkins opened the door for her, then closed it behind her.

  In the long run his mother would be hurt to learn she wasn't right.

  And Arabella had to be hurt and baffled by everything—by the visit to his mother's, by his insistent pursuit of her…

  She was a virgin.

  He had not believed her when she'd told him right off the bat, but he had sensed something was wrong the night in the conservatory, and he had stopped. Now he understood why he had.

  And he knew that, given another chance, he wouldn't stop again.

  Lucas unfolded the paper and dropped it in front of Jake on the breakfast table in his suite. "Read this and tell me we don't have anything to worry about. They're calling it the St. Valentine's Day Massacre."

  Jake crunched on a piece of bacon as he quickly scanned the headline and the first couple of paragraphs, then looked up at Lucas, slightly puzzled. "This says they think these men were killed by some overly greedy policemen who had hijacked hooch from Bugs Moran and were afraid Bugs would tattle." He threw another glance at the paper. "Members of Detroit's Purple Gang are also suspects."

  "I don't believe it for a minute, and neither does the news on our grapevine. Word is, some of Capone's gang decked themselves out in police uniforms, then went over to a garage where the seven men, five of them in Bugs Moran's gang, were waiting for a load of hijacked hooch." Lucas grimaced. "It's the last thing those poor bastards will ever wait for. They say the bodies were pretty ripped up and that there was a pool of blood you could swim in." He paused. "Only Capone's people kill like that, Jake. You know it, I know it, and everyone in the city of Chicago will know it, too, as soon as they stop to think about it. And guess who is an associate of Al Capone?"

  Jake leaned back in his chair, bringing a piece of toast with him to munch on. "If our grapevine is right, our old friend, Wade Scalia."

  "Our grapevine is always right, Jake."

  He tossed the remainder of the toast back onto the plate, and with a slight grimace touched his forehead, wondering why he had expected to find pain there. "I don't want to think about this, Lucas." Arabella had a hold on all his thoughts.

  "You can't close your eyes to this." Lucas stabbed at the paper with two fingers. "This is the kind of man 'our old friend' Wade Scalia has become."

  With a sigh Jake straightened. "You're right, but I don't know what you expect me to do about it. We're still in the same damn dilemma we were the last time we talked about this."

  "But don't you see? He's perfectly capable of having us killed if we don't do what he's asking of us and give him that damned percentage."

  "Is that what you want to do, Lucas?" Jake asked quietly. "Give in to him?"

  "Hell, no!"

  With an inquiring look at his friend, Jake spread his hands outward. "Then?"

  Lucas raked a hand through his blond hair. "I don't know."

  A violent boom rattled the panes of the glass of the windows. Both men instinctively hit the floor and waited. When they heard no more explosions, they leapt up and raced to the window.

  Jake jerked the curtain aside and did a quick survey of the street below. His car. His new, custom-built red Sport Phaeton had been blown up, and what remained of it was burning. His hand on the curtain slowly closed until he had the heavy velvet fabric gripped in a hard fist.

  "That sonofabitch," Lucas muttered, gazing down on the scene over Jake's shoulder. "To hell with it. If the man wants a war, let's give him a war."

  Jake let the curtain drop back into place and rubbed his eyes. "No."

  "Jake, Wade just destroyed something you valued. His message couldn't be more clear. You could be next."

  Jake shook his head, reflecting with a kind of amazement that it was morning and he already felt tired. He had been too disturbed by what had passed between him and Arabella to sleep, but lack of sleep had never bothered him so much before. "I can buy two dozen of those damned cars if I want to. I could buy two hundred. Hell, I could buy two thousand, but I'm not going to risk the lives of our men over a car."

  "It's not about the car, Jake. It's about your life. Wade is obsessed with you and has been ever since we were kids. He idolized you and tried like hell to be as good as you were at things. He wanted to be like you and to be your best friend."

  Jake gave an exclamation of exasperation. "Lord, Lucas, Wade was just a snot-nosed little bully who was always hanging around. I never did anything to him."

  "Exactly. If you had treated him with cruelty, he might have been able to accept it better, but you barely noticed him, unless, of course, he pulled some stunt like he did with Vanessa that night."

  His jaw set into a rock-hard line. "The man can blow up as many of my cars as he wants, but I'm not starting a war with him."

  "Then let's get out of this damned business. It's the only way, Jake. We've had a great time, and we've made a bloody fortune. Let's retire."

  He walked over to the breakfast table and poured himself a cup of coffee. "I think that's a good idea."

  "Great."

  His expression was thoughtful as he turned toward his old friend. "For you, Lucas. You've got the money, you've got all that land you've been buying out in California. Hell, you even have a few businesses going. And most of all, you have Vanessa. I want you to go back with her, move into that dream house you two are building on the beach, and live a long, happy life."

  Lucas stared at Jake, stunned. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

  "Come on, you know better. But I see now that Wade's not going to stop these little tantrums of his, these little shows of strength. Before he gets tired of the game, more cars may get blown up, more shipments hijacked. And you and I are going to have this same argument each time something happens. No, you'll be much happier with Vanessa in California."

  Sirens sounded outside as police and fire trucks arrived.

  "You already have a plan, don't you?" Lucas asked intently. "What are you going to do?"

  "I'm going back to SwanSea, and I'm going to double our next shipment."

&n
bsp; Lucas exploded. "Dammit, Jake, Wade's going to kill you!"

  "I'd like to see him try."

  Lucas planted balled fists on his hips. "You're an arrogant, stubborn bastard, Jake, and you're not seeing this clearly."

  "You're right," Jake said quietly. "I'm every one of those things."

  "And it's the bastard part that's beneath this whole damned thing, isn't it? It's like a thorn in your skin that your father won't acknowledge you."

  Lucas was the one person in the world he would let talk to him like that, so he stood and listened.

  "Dammit, Jake, how long are you going to carry on this vendetta with Edward Deverell?"

  "It's not a vendetta," he said, his voice low, calm, and matter-of-fact. "It's my life."

  Lucas delivered a long string of colorful obscenities, then threw up his hands. "You know something? You and Wade damn well deserve each other. You're each obsessed. And you know something else? I'm not going to stick around and watch you get killed. I just decided. I'll be leaving tomorrow with Vanessa."

  Jake nodded, a small smile playing around his lips. "Only promise me you'll come back and supervise my funeral. I wouldn't want Edward to put on some pompous, asinine affair."

  "It would be what you deserve, you damned fool!" Lucas slammed out of the room.

  Jake stared at the door, reflecting that he already missed him. But California was the best place for both Vanessa and Lucas. They'd be together and they'd be away from this mess. He sank onto the nearest chair and lay his head against its back. Dammit. He couldn't give in to Wade, and he wasn't going to join in the fray either.

  A knock sounded at the door and Jake sighed. It was the police and they would be wanting to know if he had any idea who blew up his car. Even if he gave them Wade's name, they would never be able to prove anything.

  He rose and slowly went to answer the door.

  "I wasn't sure whether you'd agree to talk to me or not," Jake said later that day, speaking over the telephone to Arabella. "I was sure Perkins would come back on the line and inform me that you had just left on an African safari and wouldn't be back for six months."

  She had had definite doubts about the wisdom of talking with him again. In the end, though, she hadn't been able not to. "No, that's next week." She had expected a light, teasing comeback, and was surprised when she didn't get one.