by Janet Dailey
“It's impossible,” she replied without any conviction in her voice.
“Nothing is impossible.” A smile played with his lips.
“I've always made it a rule to leave a party with the man who brought me,” Amanda said more positively.
“Rules are made to be broken.” His gaze strayed to her mouth, which she had nervously moistened.
“Would you feel the same way if you'd been the one to bring me?” she asked, resisting the almost overwhelming temptation to agree.
The corners of his mouth turned up in a humorless smile. “If you were my date, I wouldn't have brought you to this charade. I would have taken you to a place where we could be alone."
“Well, that doesn't happen to be the case, since I did come here with Tobe,” Amanda stated. “It's only proper that I leave with him. As a matter of fact"—she swallowed, fighting the chill that shivered over her skin as his hand fell back to his side “—he must be wondering where I've gone."
“Maybe by now he's back inside,” Jarod suggested.
He didn't look the least bit disappointed that he hadn't been able to change her mind. Ironically Amanda was the one who felt disappointed that he hadn't persisted, but she successfully hid it as they retraced their steps through the garden and into the ballroom. Brad, Cheryl, and Tobe were waiting just inside, and with a nod Jarod left her with them.
Amanda was convinced that she had seen the last of Jarod Colby. The instant he had left her, she saw him walk over to an attractive blonde and escort her onto the dance floor. She scolded herself for feeling so let down. He had only been flirting with her, more than likely expecting her to fall at his feet because he deigned to pay attention to her. But those moments she had been with him, subjected to his unmistakable magnetism, had left a vivid impression.
Unwillingly she had to admit that it hurt to watch him dancing with another girl, knowing he was probably saying the same things to her. When Tobe asked her to dance, she accepted eagerly, determined to show Jarod Colby that his absence didn't bother her at all.
“What did you think of the local lord?” Tobe asked.
“A bit too arrogant,” she answered with a shrug, keeping the brittle smile in place.
“He knows what he wants and he usually gets it. Has he decided he wants you?"
“I'm a little country girl. I think his taste runs more to sophisticated blondes.” Amanda knew Tobe had seen Jarod dancing with the girl and her pride insisted that she be the first one to comment on it. “I expect he's a tyrant to work for."
“You and your father work for him—indirectly, at least,” Tobe reminded her. “He's a very intelligent and astute businessman, unlike his father, who was more interested in spending money than making it."
Amanda didn't want to hear about the supposedly good qualities of Jarod Colby. Right now she needed to banish him from her mind, if that was possible. She was not going to allow her mind to build another totally false picture of the man, as she had done before.
“When are your parents coming back?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Who cares?” he answered, grimacing.
“Tobe, you don't really feel that way,” she scolded, the way her mother always did.
He sighed heavily. “I don't think any of you Bennetts realize how lucky you are. Your parents are always there when you need them. I remember when my dog was killed by a car on the highway. I was about nine at the time and ran crying home to my father. He gave me the money to buy another dog. It was your dad who went out there with me and got the body. He was the one who built the box and dug the hole so we could bury him.” There was a savage shake of his head. “If I had my way, I'd never go home again. I think it's your mother who makes me. The Bennetts are my family."
“We feel as if you're a part of us, too,” Amanda murmured softly, for the first time realizing there was such a thing as a poor rich kid.
But Tobe was never one to feel sorry for himself for long. In fact, he did it rarely. “Let's change to a more pleasant subject,” he suggested, winking down at her.
At that moment a hand tapped the back of Tobe's shoulder and a voice said, “Shall we change partners?"
Both Tobe and Amanda glanced in surprise at the couple dancing beside them. It was Jarod and the blonde. Amanda's feet wouldn't move and Tobe interpreted her halting as agreement to change. Not until Jarod's arm circled her waist did her heart start beating again, then at a rapid pace. Her brown eyes searched the unfathomable expression on his face.
“Did you think you'd seen the last of me?” Jarod mocked softly.
His astute perception brought a flush of rare color to her cheeks. Amanda glanced at the attractive blonde now openly flirting with Tobe.
“She's very attractive,” she murmured.
“I believe your date thinks so,” Jarod replied complacently. “Many men find my cousin attractive."
“Your cousin?” she repeated, casting a startled glance at his face. The amusement written there told her he had guessed that she hadn't known the girl.
“Judith will keep him occupied for the rest of the evening,” he stated, “and that should eliminate your objections to my taking you home."
“No.” There was an infinitesimal shake of her head. “No, I won't go home with you."
His fingers tightened cruelly around her gloved hand. “Don't play games!” he muttered. “You said earlier that you couldn't let me take you home because of your date. He's out of the picture now."
“How can you be so sure?” Amanda protested.
A bitter sound like laughter came from his mouth. “Because I control the family purse strings and Judith needs money.” His eyes narrowed, sweeping over her face in open possession. “Do you want me to take you home or not? A simple yes or no is all I want."
Pain jabbed at her stomach. It would be so easy to say yes, to be swept along by the magnetism that surrounded him. Yet Amanda was just as conscious that he was treating her with the same arrogance and superiority he had exhibited those many years ago when he had ordered her off his property.
She raised her chin slightly. “The answer is no, Mr. Colby,” she said firmly.
A dark brow arched momentarily, reflecting his surprise at her answer. Amanda guessed the occasions were rare when he didn't get his way, especially with women.
“I see,” Jarod murmured coldly.
“I doubt very much that you do.” The chill in her voice surprised even her. “I don't think other people's principles have ever mattered very much to you.” The music ended and they stood facing one another. “I do hope your cousin receives her money. It was not her fault that you didn't succeed in your objective. Good evening, Mr. Colby.” The whirl of her skirt signaled her departure as she left him standing alone.
Tobe was on the opposite side of the dance floor talking to the blond Judith. Amanda sent her brother over to get him, pleading a headache as the reason she wanted to leave. The excuse didn't fool Cheryl, but she guessed Amanda had a valid reason and didn't question her.
* * * *
A GIRL DRESSED in an old-fashioned organdy gown of lavender and a large floppy hat came scurrying toward Amanda. “People are standing outside waiting to go on the tour,” she declared worriedly. “They're getting impatient. “We were supposed to open up fifteen minutes ago."
“I realize that, Pam,” Amanda answered calmly. “The cleaning crew are finishing now. It will only be a few minutes more."
“With the cotillion last night, they should have closed this place today,” the girl grumbled. “Or else they should have had the cleaning crew come in earlier."
“Unfortunately there wasn't anyone here to let them in earlier, but that's not our concern.” Amanda's own temper was reaching boiling point, but she forced herself to stay cool. “Has Susan arrived yet?"
“She called,” the girl named Pam answered, adding sarcastically, “She claimed her car wouldn't start. More than likely she overslept. She said she'd be here in an hour."
/> “All right,” Amanda sighed, massaging the spot above her eyebrow that was throbbing with pain. “I'll take her tour through the first floor of the house. You'll guide them through the second floor and Linda will show them the gardens.” She glanced around. “Where's Linda?"
On cue, the girl in question came hurrying into the hall, her pale pink gown identical to the ones Pam and Amanda were wearing, except for the color.
“The cleaning people have finished,” she said breathlessly. “Shall I open the doors now?"
“Yes.” Amanda nodded, smoothing the ruffles of her mint green dress. “And be sure to explain to them the reason for the delay. They're more than likely tourists and would have no knowledge of the cotillion that was held here last night. And I doubt that they would know it was Jefferson Davis's birthday yesterday."
Except for a few grumbles, the visitors to the plantation took the delay in good spirits. Amanda was glad she was the one taking them through the first part of the tour. She had more experience than the other girls and was able to keep them entertained with amusing anecdotes connected with the house. Once she was able to coax a smile or a glimmer of interest from all of them, she knew they would forget that they had had to wait.
As the group walked down a side hallway, one of the women asked, “How did the South acquire the name of Dixie? Was it taken from the Mason-Dixon Line?"
“No. The Mason-Dixon Line marked the boundaries between the states of Maryland and Pennsylvania, although it was eventually regarded as the demarcation line of the North and the South,” Amanda explained. “The name Dixie originated in Louisiana, which was settled predominately by the French. Before the Civil War, a ten-dollar banknote was issued by the State of Louisiana with the French word for ten, which is spelled d-i-x, pronounced deese, printed on it. Americans pronounced it as dix and later referred to Louisiana as the land of the dixie, the place where such money was found. Gradually the term was applied to all of the South.
“This last room,” Amanda said as she led the visitors into the large study with its rich pecan woodwork, “was where the running of the plantation took place. When the Union army commandeered the house during the Civil War, this room served as the private office of Colonel Bartholomew Colby. His staff was quartered here in the house and the rest of the company bivouacked in the grounds."
“What did they do with the owners of the plantation?” one of the women asked.
“At that time, only Mrs. Reagan and her daughter were here. Her husband, Sean Reagan, was a cavalry officer under Robert E. Lee,” Amanda explained. “Colonel Colby allowed Mrs. Reagan and her daughter to occupy the master bedroom upstairs."
“How long were the colonel and his men here?” another man inquired.
“Only a few weeks. General Sherman had given orders that no private homes were to be destroyed during his march to the sea after the city of Atlanta was burned to the ground. It was an order that was eventually ignored, bringing about the destruction of almost all of the beautiful plantations that lay in the path of his march, which was some eighty miles wide at various points. However, Colonel Colby evidently appreciated the extraordinary beauty and grandeur of Oak Run and refused to let his soldiers put it to the torch."
“I don't believe that was his reason."
The voice came from the back of the room. Everyone, including Amanda, turned toward the speaker. Her composure was shaken as she saw Jarod Colby make his way slowly through the small group. His bland gaze was focused on her, causing her breath to come in uneven spurts.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, turning her attention from his with difficulty and forcing a bright smile to appear on her face, “this is a rare treat. I'd like you to meet Jarod Colby, a direct descendant of Colonel Colby and the present owner of Oak Run."
There was a gracious nod of his black head at the scattering of applause and the buzz of whispered conversations. “I do hope you're enjoying your tour,” he said, turning to stand beside Amanda.
A man's voice raised itself above the various assertions that they were all enjoying the tour. “You were about to tell us why the colonel didn't allow his men to burn the plantation."
“I have no doubt that the colonel found this home very beautiful, as Miss Bennett pointed out,” Jarod replied. “But the true reason he left it standing was the same one that led him to purchase it after the war was over. He was infatuated with Mrs. Reagan.” His dark gaze slid down to Amanda, dwelling briefly on the startled roundness of her eyes. “You might call it the family secret. At the time that the Union troops occupied the house, Mrs. Reagan had been told that her husband was missing and presumed dead. As far as my ancestor was concerned, she was a widow. When the war ended and the prisoners were released, Mrs. Reagan and Colonel Colby discovered that her husband was very much alive, but an invalid. To persuade Sean Reagan to divorce his wife, the colonel paid him twice what the plantation was worth in its day. But Mrs. Reagan had a last-minute attack of conscience and refused to leave her husband, and there was no divorce. The colonel was left with the plantation and his lady fair left with the money and her husband."
An uncomfortable hush settled over the small group. They followed Amanda a little slowly as she led them into the main hall where Pamela would take them through the second floor. Jarod was standing in the doorway of the study, obviously waiting for her when she had seen the last of the group follow Pam up the Y-shaped staircase.
“May I have a few minutes of your time, Miss Bennett?” Jarod asked mockingly. When Amanda looked hesitantly toward the front where a new group of tourists was gathering, he reached in his pocket and took out a stub. “The young lady wouldn't allow me in without purchasing a ticket, so I believe that allows me a few minutes to speak to you."
“You've never been here before, Mr. Colby, and the girl is new. It's understandable that she didn't know who you were, especially if you didn't identify yourself,” Amanda replied with cool dignity.
“I'm sorry I'm late, Amanda.” A girl came rushing up behind her. “The darned car wouldn't start.” She glanced curiously at Jarod, and Amanda wondered how much Susan had heard before she joined them. “Do you want me to take the next tour on the first floor?"
“Yes,” she nodded. “There's a group at the front ready to leave now."
“Okay,” Susan agreed smiling. “It won't happen again—my being late, I mean."
“Now may I see you?” Jarod repeated as the other girl walked hurriedly to the front of the hall.
“I really don't know what we have to discuss,” Amanda murmured.
“My aunt uses the old cloakroom as an office, I believe.” Before she could protest, he was taking her by the arm and leading her there.
Once inside, Jarod closed the door behind them and leaned against it as if he expected Amanda to try to leave. He folded his arms in front of him and stared at her, and she shifted uncomfortably. The room seemed much smaller somehow.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” Amanda swallowed nervously and attempted to appear indifferent when she looked at him. He was wearing a summer suit of light gray that made him look taller and much more formidable with his jet dark looks.
“I want you to have dinner with me.” The expression on his face was completely unreadable.
“When?” she queried, trying not to let him guess that his question had taken her by surprise.
“Tonight."
“That's very short notice.” Her stomach was doing somersaults. Last night she had told herself that if Jarod was truly interested in her he would have asked her out. Now he was doing that very thing.
“Do you have other plans?” Jarod demanded, straightening away from the door.
“If I did, I imagine you would ask me to break them,” Amanda retorted, more sharply than she intended.
“Then you are free tonight.” He seized on her implication.
“Which doesn't necessarily mean I accept,” she retorted, tilting her chin at a defiant angle as she met his complac
ent gaze.
“What's bothering you?” Amusement lurked in his eyes. “Are you offended that the notice is so short?"
“Should I be grateful that you can fit me into your schedule?” she demanded. The muscles in her throat constricted painfully.
He chuckled softly and moved across the small room to take her by the shoulders. There was a fiery warmth in his eyes as they swept over her face. His expression became serious and compelling.
“The truth is I have to fly to Pennsylvania tomorrow morning. I won't be back until the end of the week,” Jarod murmured, his husky voice caressing her with its velvet softness. “If it will soothe your injured pride, I'll ask you to keep next Saturday open, too.” His thumbs were sensually rubbing her shoulders in a circular motion. “But come with me tonight. I don't want to wait an entire week before I see you."
The declaration took her breath away. She could only gaze at him in disbelief, her heart hammering against her ribs while a shimmery film of happiness sparkled in her brown eyes.
“Really?” It was a barely audible whisper that begged for his confirmation.
Jarod stood motionless, his hands stopping their caressive movement as he stared into her eyes. His own perceptibility darkened when his gaze moved to her trembling lips.
“I want to see you tonight.” The urgency that vibrated in his voice transmitted itself to her.
“I'll be through here at six,” Amanda said breathlessly. “I can be ready by seven—seven-thirty at the latest."
“I'll send a car for you."
“A car?” There was confusion in the look she gave him. “Aren't you coming to pick me up?"
Jarod smiled, and it was the first time she had noticed a smile reaching his eyes. Usually it was an impersonal movement of his mouth.
“Doesn't that meet with your approval, either?” he asked.
“It's all right,” Amanda assured him quickly. “It's just that my parents ... well, they're used to meeting my dates. Not that they would object if they didn't. It's simply something that I've always done."