Judith Stacy (11 page)

He’d thought his business holdings were so important back then. What difference would it have made to those deals if he’d done as she asked? Probably very little.

Yet how much difference would it have made to his marriage if he’d stayed home with Jana those mornings? He might be the one expecting an heir now, just as Noah Carmichael was.

What a damn fool he’d been.

Brandon cursed under his breath at the lunacy of his decisions back then. What the hell had he been thinking?

And what a terrible husband he’d been.

Turning away from the window, Brandon went into
the adjoining bathroom and flipped on the light. A harsh glare lit the white ceramic tile. He stood over the washbasin for a while, then turned on the tap and splashed cold water on his face.

He straightened and dragged a towel down his face, looking at himself in the mirror. Why hadn’t he paid better attention to Jana back then—other than in the bedroom? Why hadn’t he seen that she missed her aunt and friends in San Francisco, that the decorator and cook—and maybe all the servants—disregarded her every want? If he’d been a better husband, she wouldn’t have left.

And he sure as hell wouldn’t be in here all by himself right now.

Brandon tossed the towel away and drew in a breath.

What next? What else? What could he do now that would bring Jana back to him, keep her from leaving again? Maybe if he tried to—

He stopped as a new idea sprang into his head. Why not do the one thing he and Jana had both liked so much early in their marriage?

Why not simply get her into bed?

Upstairs in the attic this evening they might have made love right then and there if Brandon hadn’t been so concerned about Jana’s wishes. If he’d gone ahead and made love to her—something they both seemed to want—things might at this very minute be settled between them.

Of course. It made perfect sense. Brandon nodded his head in the silent room.

He’d just get her into bed. That would solve everything.

C
ertainly nothing was wrong with wanting one’s own husband. Was there?

Jana caught herself contemplating the question as she sat behind the desk in the office of the women’s refuge. Contemplating, too, what might have happened if Brandon hadn’t come to his senses in the attic last night.

Warmth swelled in Jana as she recalled the details of their encounter. His arms around her. His lips on hers. The feel of his body pressed against hers. A rush of memories came back to her.

She hadn’t had the strength or the willpower to tell him to stop last night. Making love would be the worst thing that could happen between them. She knew that. But still…

Jana pushed herself up from the chair and drew in a breath. An apology was in order. She’d go outside right
now and tell Brandon how sorry she was about what had happened—almost—between them. He’d done the right thing and respected her wishes. And she…

Wanted him.

Jana jerked to a stop in the doorway as the realization formed in the pit of her stomach. She pressed her lips together, fighting off the idea, then unable to, let it come fully into her mind.

Yes, she wanted Brandon. Her husband. She let the notion play in her mind, the very thought sending a warm chill over her. For a long moment she luxuriated in the feeling, allowed herself to ignore the folly of that possibility. And how delightful it was.

Then, just as she had in London, Jana pushed the nonsense away. She steeled her emotions and continued on, determined to do what she
had
to do…just as she had in London.

But at that moment, Oliver Fisk walked through the front door, satchel in hand.

“Another class today?” Jana asked, thinking that she hadn’t seen his name on this afternoon’s schedule.

“Well, no…not exactly.” Oliver leaned around her, gazing down the hallway. “I, ah, I couldn’t quite remember when I was supposed to teach again, so I thought I’d drop by.”

“I see.”

“Strictly business,” Oliver said, looking at her now. “That’s all. Business.”

Jana raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t suppose your
forgetfulness over the schedule has anything to do with Audrey, does it?”

Oliver’s cheeks flushed and he blinked rapidly at her from behind his lenses. “Oh, no. Of course not. Why, I never even thought for a moment that—”

“It’s all right if you’re attracted to her,” Jana said, giving him an understanding smile.

A deeper shade of pink came to Oliver’s cheeks, then he looked away, shaking his head. “Silly of me, really,” he said quietly. “Thinking a beautiful, intelligent girl like Audrey would give me a second look.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Jana insisted. “You have a great deal to offer any woman.”

Oliver lifted a shoulder. “I do have a bit of money—a good bit, actually. A trust fund from my grandfather which will be under my control in a few more years.”

“And you’re quite intelligent yourself,” Jana pointed out. “A man with a responsible position.”

“For as long as it lasts,” Oliver said. He shook his head. “Audrey deserves so much more than someone like me.”

“Audrey is a bit unconventional. A modern woman with modern ideas.” Jana touched his arm. “Don’t give up yet.”

Oliver shrugged, then gestured down the hallway. “Since I’m here, I’ll visit with the ladies for a few minutes. See what they thought of my class.”

“That’s a good idea,” Jana agreed.

Her heart ached a little watching Oliver head down
the hallway. He saw the futility of his desire. No matter how much he wanted things to be different, it seemed it was not to be.

His plight gave her strength. Jana squared her shoulders. She, too, had to do what must be done. With her marriage, and her husband.

No matter how much it hurt.

Yet her good intentions faltered once more as she walked into the rear yard and her gaze homed in on Brandon. Up in a tree, he balanced on one of the limbs as he oversaw the boys working on the tree house. He pointed and Jana heard the deep rumbling of his voice. The boys nodded and worked diligently.

This was hardly the time to bother him, Jana decided. And hardly the place to discuss her wanton behavior last night.

But before she could return to the refuge, Brandon spotted her. He called her name, then ignored the steps nailed to the side of the tree, grabbed a low branch and swung to the ground.

He wore his work clothes. Jana’s heart fluttered at the sight of him, still.

“How’s it going?” she asked as he walked over.

He glanced back at the tree house. “Almost finished, trapdoor and all.”

“You’ve got yourself quite a crew,” Jana said, nodding toward the smaller boys gathered around a makeshift workbench. “Are those the birdhouses you showed me last night in the attic?”

Jana gasped, mentally berating herself for mentioning the attic, calling to bear the things they’d done there. Goodness, what would he think of her?

Brandon frowned. “Were you in the attic with me last night?”

“Why, yes, of course I was,” Jana said, suddenly a little miffed that he couldn’t remember. She’d chided herself over and over about what had happened, and all the while it meant nothing to Brandon?

“I came up into the attic to see your workshop,” Jana told him. “You were at your workbench and you showed me the birdhouses you’d cut out.”

“You did?” Brandon scratched his head. “Then what happened?”

“You explained what they were, and then I thoughtlessly mentioned your family—which I apologized for—and then we kissed.” Jana pressed her lips together. “I can’t believe you really don’t remember this.”

“Oh, yes,” Brandon said, nodding. He frowned again. “Was that you I kissed?”

“Of course it was,” she insisted. “We kissed and then you touched my—”

Jana stopped, seeing the tiniest quirk on his lips. He was teasing her.

“Your breast,” Brandon said, his voice low and mellow. “I touched your breast. The left one. My favorite.”

Jana’s stomach heated, sending a plume of warmth up her neck and across her cheeks. He glanced down at her breasts and they tingled at his gaze.

“I knew you remembered,” she said, trying to muster some annoyance with him, but failing miserably.

Brandon leaned in a little. “I told you, Jana, I remember
everything
.”

And suddenly
everything
sprang up between them, unseen but with a force that seemed to capture the two of them, bind them together now just as their lovemaking had done all those months ago.

A voice intruded, breaking the spell between then. Jana realized someone was calling her name. She turned and saw one of the young girls heading toward her.

“Mrs. Sayer? There’s a woman here to see you,” she reported, then dashed away to where the other girls played across the yard.

“I’d better go,” Jana said, lifting her gaze to meet Brandon’s.

He gave her a little grin, a secretive, knowing grin.

“You’d better get back to work too,” Jana said, catching sight of the younger boys from the corner of her eye. A disagreement had developed, apparently, over whose turn it was to use the hammer.

Brandon seemed to take it in stride as he gave her a final grin and walked away.

Jana watched for a moment as he stood towering over the boys, listening while they all tried to talk at once. Yet for all his greater height, strength and authority, none of the children seemed frightened of him. He knelt and spoke to them, and in a matter of moments, heads bobbed in agreement and the work started up again.

Her heart warmed at the sight. She had no idea Brandon could be so good with children. The notion twisted tightly inside her.

“Mrs. Sayer?”

Jana turned when she heard her name again, but it wasn’t one of the young girls calling her this time. Jana’s heart seemed to skip a beat.

Leona Albright stood in front of her.

Instinctively, Jana cast a glance at Brandon. He seemed to hear Leona’s voice also—or had he instinctively sensed her arrival?—and turned to face the two of them. An awkward moment passed before Leona spoke.

“I heard the call had gone out for volunteers,” Leona said, “so I decided to stop by and have a look for myself.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Jana said, drawing on her years of etiquette training to see her though, when all the while her mind was reeling.

Leona scanned the play yard, nodding slowly. “Everything I see here seems to be in perfect order,” she declared.

Her gaze fell on Brandon as he walked over to join them, and Jana was overwhelmed with the urge to throw herself in front of her husband, a wild, irrational notion that she couldn’t shake.

“Leona,” Brandon greeted, standing close to Jana’s side. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of volunteering.”

“Oh, no, of course not. But I thought I might throw my support behind the effort.” Leona turned to Jana. “If it’s wanted, of course.”

The woman had done nothing untoward. She’d said nothing inappropriate. Her errand here today was, obviously, a desire to truly help the refuge. Yet there was something about the way she looked at Brandon. Not desirous, the way Jana knew she herself had looked at him only minutes ago. But it was something. Something that Jana couldn’t name. Something that left her disquieted.

“The refuge would greatly appreciate anything you might do to help,” Jana told her, pleased that she’d managed to sound gracious.

“Then, with your permission, I’d like to—”

Leona stopped and turned her attention to Oliver Fisk as he approached. Her gaze dipped, ran the length of him, and a slow smile spread over her face.

“Brandon, do introduce us,” she said, shifting her shoulders and arching her back ever so slightly.

Brandon did as she asked, and when introduced, Oliver seemed to shrink back from her, much as a lamb would from an approaching wolf.

“So you’re the editor of the
Messenger
,” Leona said, slipping closer to him. “I think you and I have something in common.”

Oliver gulped. “What—what would that be?”

“I’ll give you a detailed explanation.” Leona slid her arm through Oliver’s, drawing him closer until her breast rested against his arm. “I’m very good at…details.”

“Oh—well—yes, but—” Oliver’s eyes widened as Leona guided him across the yard and into the refuge.

A bit befuddled, Jana watched them disappear, then turned to Brandon.

“What do you think she meant by that?” she asked.

A grin bloomed on his lips and he tried to contain it but couldn’t.

Jana gasped. “Do you think Leona Albright has designs on—Oliver?”

“So it seems,” Brandon said, twisting his lips. He nodded toward the boys. “I’d better get back there, see what’s going on. Will you be ready to go home soon?”

It sounded so simple when he said it. The two of them. Traveling around the city in his carriage, as any husband and wife would do. Going home.

“I only have a few more things to do,” Jana said.

Brandon nodded and headed to the rear of the yard where the boys worked. She went back inside and finished up the list of potential volunteers she intended to contact, then pinned on her hat and gathered her wrap and handbag when Brandon came into the office.

In the carriage, Brandon sat in the seat across from her, as he always did. Usually he looked out the window, giving her only an occasional glance, but today he seemed fascinated by the very sight of her. Or at least her bosom. That seemed to be where his gaze veered, every time she cast a glance his way. Her breasts. The left one. His favorite.

Relieved when they finally arrived home, Jana told Charles in the vestibule that she wanted supper in her room, then went upstairs and undressed. The day had
been warm and she was glad to be rid of her corset, bustle and petticoats. Abbie came to her room and helped her change into a day dress, a comfortable, lightweight garment.

When a knock sounded at the door, Abbie answered it, then turned to Jana.

“It’s Charles,” she reported. “He says that Mr. Sayer wants you to come downstairs immediately.”

“Has someone arrived?” Jana asked, though she couldn’t imagine anyone dropping by at this hour.

“No, ma’am,” Abbie said. “Mr. Sayer says he wants you. Now.”