In Name Only

by Roxanne Jarrett

  The rest of the program, leading to the intermission, went by in a whirl of sound, of which Jill heard not one note. "I must get out of here," she said to Edna in a panic as the lights came up.

  "You can't keep running," Edna said. "We're going outside for a little walk and then we're coming back and you're going to sit through the performance."

  Jill recoiled in horror. "Not downstairs. I can't meet him."

  "You won't. We'll go into the corridor outside and march up and down until you're calm again. How's that?"

  Jill involuntarily looked at the box beyond. It was empty. She turned and patted her friend's arm. "You're really good to me, Edna. I don't know what I'd do without you."

  When they returned to their seats after the intermission, Jill felt better. Edna had talked long and hard, trying to convince her that she had her own life to lead, and that she had to keep on with it. Jill had begun to believe she was right.

  Simon was already in his box with Angela Branco at his side. He was talking animatedly to her, while the blonde scanned the house with a pair of opera glasses.

  Jill bent over her program. If Angela Branco knew who she was, it would be awful to be caught staring. She counted on the woman not to mention her presence to Simon.

  "Oh, oh." Edna poked her. "You have your choice. You can look up and smile, or you can turn away. Your husband is staring this way and there's every chance he's seen you."

  Jill, turning suddenly giddy, did not move. "That's his affair," she said, keeping her eyes on her program. "Why don't the houselights dim?"

  "From what I can tell, even at this distance, he's wonderfully attractive. He's looking at you."

  Jill still did not look up. The houselights thankfully, went low. "Why did you tell me about him?" she groaned. "Why did you insist I come?"

  Edna did not respond, as the singers walked onto the stage to swelling applause. Jill, determined now to hear every note sung, raised her hands in applause, too. Simon, having turned to face the stage, could only be seen dimly now.

  The concert was not over until three encores were performed. During the second one, Simon and Angela Branco left. Jill breathed a sigh of relief. She was in turmoil, but at least she wouldn't have to deal with running into him.

  A confrontation would have been impossible. It was quite clear that Simon profited in every way by her leaving. He still had a wife and so was not an easy mark for a woman set on marrying him. He had control of Carteret-Todd, the bulk of Daniel Carteret's estate in his keeping, everything. He was a man without a care in the world, and she should have seen the outcome, back in Chicago.

  If Simon had wanted her, he would have found her. He was not a man without power in the community, without resources. He could have found her; it was that simple.

  Outside the opera house the evening was balmy, the sky polka-dotted with stars. The Southern Cross seemed perched on the tip of a nearby skyscraper. They meandered slowly across the black and white mosaics. There was an air of celebration about the brightly lit square, as of partygoers who did not want the night to end.

  "Over your jitters?" Edna asked.

  "Just about."

  "Good girl. You can stand on your own two feet now. I'm going to give you the Order of Merit. Earned by one Jill Todd, the right to a life of her own."

  Jill giggled, feeling curiously free and in charge of herself, when suddenly a hand touched her arm, and she heard a familiar voice at her ear.

  "Jill, I'd like to talk to you."

  She stopped, her voice stuck somewhere at the back of her throat. Simon, deeply tanned, his face thinner than she remembered, looked down at her out of his dark, smoldering eyes. They stood with their eyes engaged as the crowd parted around them, the noise of cars and voices, and even a plane overhead, suddenly faded to nothing. Edna had, unknowingly, walked on a few steps.

  After what seemed an eternity of silent communication, Jill remembered her friend. It took her several seconds more to recover her voice.

  "Edna?"

  Her partner turned, saw them, raised her eyebrows, and after a second's hesitation, came reluctantly back.

  "This is, this is my husband," Jill stuttered. "Simon, this is, this is Edna Pinheiro. She's my partner. My business partner. We're in business together." The words came in a rush now, as they shook hands. "We make clothing. I'm wearing one," she dashed on. "All handmade from the ground up."

  Edna smiled at Jill. "I'll see you later."

  "No." Jill reached out to her. "Don't go. I'm coming with you."

  "I've my car here, senhorita," Simon interrupted. "Can we drop you off somewhere?"

  "No, it's a fine night," Edna told him in a bright voice. "I'm going to walk. Please don't bother about me."

  Simon, however, with his customary autocratic air, took her arm as well as his wife's, and led them both across the square to his limousine.

  "Claudio," he said to the waiting chauffeur, "take Senhorita Pinheiro home, and then go back to Las Flores. We'll return under our own steam."

  The chauffeur touched his hat and held the door for Edna. "Call me," she whispered to Jill, as she stepped into the limousine.

  Jill nodded, feeling powerless to say anything or do anything. The limousine entered the slow-moving line of traffic.

  Simon directed Jill across the street to a small park with benches. "This suit you while we talk?"

  "Yes." Her voice, shaky with emotion, was still not an instrument to be trusted. She sat down on a bench facing Simon, her hand in his. The light from a street-lamp behind her, illumined his face clearly.

  "I once told you that if you needed me, I'd be here," he began. "There's no reason to believe you would hang on to my every word, but I wondered if you remembered. Or whether you've needed me at all."

  "I remember what you said quite well," Jill responded. "But I also remember that it's a promise you seem to make to everyone. I didn't feel it was anything I could count on."

  He regarded her carefully. "I'm sorry then that you feel that way. It's a promise that I make to people I care for."

  She stiffened and almost involuntarily pulled her hand away. Angela Branco. It was coming down to that.

  "I know what you're thinking," Simon went on. "Angela Branco."

  Jill nodded, her eyes averted. She asked for the truth and it was being laid out for her.

  "Angela Branco," Simon told her, "was a special friend of your uncle's. They had known each other for a number of years. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

  "Yes." She whispered the word. Uncle Dan was her father's younger brother. She had even once, when the letter from Simon had arrived, wondered whether he hadn't suddenly married.

  "Your uncle made provisions for her several years ago. She owns some real estate in Manaus, and when your uncle was alive, he managed it for her. I didn't want to tell you about it, or even bother you with it, but his dying words were for me to care for Angela. And that's a promise I intend to keep."

  A sudden puff of wind from the river made Jill shiver uncontrollably. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me? Did he, did he love her very much?"

  "Enough."

  Jill shook her head. "I'm sorry."

  "He clearly loved you more," Simon told her. He put his hand out and touched her bare shoulder. "You're cold, aren't you?"

  "No."

  He took his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders. "My poor darling. I think you'll always say no when you mean to say yes, isn't that it?"

  The vague citrus scent of the jacket, mixed with the warmth of his body heat was almost too much to bear. He seized her hand and brought it up to his lips. "Why did you run away like that? I asked you to wait for me."

  "You could have found me if you wanted to." There was no resentment in her answer, though. She felt she was moments away from declaring her love for him. Her independence was assured, and so was her love. She could give it freely without asking for payment in kind.

  He was speaking
quietly, his dark-eyed gaze never leaving her face. "I rushed out to Santarem airport, but a sudden squall drove me back. The jeep landed on the side of the road in a ditch, with me pinned under it."

  Tears started to her eyes. "Oh, Simon, no. Were you hurt?" She reached out for him. "Tell me. I'll never forgive myself."

  He laughed and brought her close. "Nothing happened. As a matter of fact, the jeep made a splendid umbrella. The trouble was, when I finally returned to Las Flores, you were gone."

  Her words were smothered against his chest, as his arms held her tight. "I never knew. I never realized. I guess I thought you were invincible, that nothing could ever happen to you."

  He drew her away and held her at arm's length. "You really believed I wouldn't try to find you?"

  "I thought you wouldn't even attempt it."

  "Is that why you left a trail a mile wide?"

  She smiled. "Did I?"

  "No steamships left Manaus that day. I checked to see if you had bought or rented a car. No beautiful young women caught a flight out anywhere, and I discounted you taking a bus. Once I was satisfied you were still in Manaus, I knew it would be easy enough to find you."

  "The bank."

  "Of course. The manager was informed on Sunday to take good care of you."

  "But you didn't come for me."

  "I didn't come for you."

  He pulled her close and held her, his lips against her hair.

  "And if you hadn't seen me tonight?" she asked.

  "It was Angela who saw you. If the concert hadn't begun just then, I would have rushed up and dragged you from the hall."

  "And you sent her away?"

  Simon shook his head. "She wanted me to go to you. She's been wanting me to go to you all along."

  "But you wouldn't." Jill caught her breath, afraid of his reasons.

  "I've known everything about you. Where you've been, what you've done."

  "I'm going to keep on doing it," she told him.

  "Even with a husband, home, family?"

  She put her arms about his neck and gazed tenderly into his eyes. "There'll be time for everything."

  "And you're not sorry you left Chicago and that, that fellow?"

  "Oh Simon," she whispered, barely able to speak. "How can you ask?"

  "You were in jeans and that funny little cowboy shirt when I first saw you. You looked so young, so vulnerable. I wondered how I could offer you such a cold and dispassionate marriage."

  "Yet you did, and treated me cruelly for it, too," she told him in a forgiving voice. He drew her close, but did not respond. "What is it?" she asked, a little frightened. "What's wrong?"

  When he spoke, his voice was low, almost ruminating, as though he were unable to frame a proper reply. "You said in Chicago that you didn't love me, you could never love me. I thought the remark amusing, foolishly romantic. I held you and kissed you and told you that romance was nonsense. Yet something happened even then, even as my lips were against yours. I wanted you. I wanted you at once."

  "But why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

  "Tell you?" He smiled. "Tell Dan Carteret's niece right then and there, within ten minutes of meeting her, that I found her lips delectable?" He pressed his lips against hers for a moment. "And still do."

  Jill could not smile, however, not even at the compliment. All that time lost, she thought, all the pain—and they had loved one another. "Some little sign would have been enough," she told him ruefully.

  "I preferred my little test. I realize now how foolish I was. I told you my offer was one no woman could resist. An offer of money. I've gone over that scene a hundred times since. You didn't resist. I wanted you to resist. At the same moment I wanted to make love to you, to have you fall in love with me. Suddenly the money your uncle and I worked so hard to make seemed to stand between us. I resented it. I resented your wanting it, even if it were yours. I knew then that you would marry me to protect your inheritance, and I couldn't bear it. I think I almost hated you for that."

  Jill shook her head solemnly and put her hand to his lips. "The money was the last of all the reasons why I married you."

  He kissed her hand, then held it tightly with his own. "I understand that now. I've seen you use what you have for good purpose. I've seen you live unpretentiously and even frugally and you've taught me something about the value of money."

  "Some day I'll give you all the reasons for marrying you the way I did."

  "Love at first sight one of them?" he asked.

  Jill smiled. "At the top of the list. When I gave you the wedding ring, I thought you'd understand. But then it seemed you were angry over my boldness." She glanced at his hand. The ring was still on his finger.

  "I never received a gift more willingly," Simon told her.

  "Yet you said nothing, not a word."

  "It was your tears after the wedding. I thought you were upset over the way your fate was sealed."

  "I never felt more alone than at that moment," Jill murmured. How long ago it all seemed.

  Simon gathered her into his arms. "I'm your husband, your lover, your friend," he whispered into her ear. "We'll be an awful crowd. I don't think you'll ever be lonely again."

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Unnamed