Starlight (14 page)

Was it some cruel joke? Her fingers were trembling so badly she could barely open the door.

When he entered, Karen was as shocked by his appearance as his presence. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in days; the dark growth did little to disguise his haggard features. Gaunt lines of fatigue were etched about his eyes and mouth, as if he hadn’t seen a bed in days. If he had slept, it was in the wrinkled mass of clothes he wore. His hair, normally so neat and well groomed, looked like he’d raked his fingers through it several times over.

“Rand?” His name was twisted from her in shock. She longed to touch him, to comfort him. He was in as much hell as she had been these past weeks.

His mouth twisted cynically. “All right, Karen, you win.”

Karen walked into his arms, gently resting her head against his chest. His hold tightened until it was difficult for her to breathe. But it didn’t matter, not as long as she was in his arms. Rand’s face moved against her hair, as if he couldn’t yet believe the feel of her. They stood entwined for a long time, not talking, hardly breathing, savoring the tender moment.

When Karen placed her arms around his neck, urging his mouth to hers, she felt his reluctance. The kiss began hard, as if he wanted to punish her; then, with a groan, his lips softened into a warm possession, and what followed was anything but punishment.

“Hold me, please, hold me.” Tears blurred her vision, her voice betraying the anguish of the past month without him.

“I love you.” His voice was thick with emotion as if he were confessing a guilt. “I could have withstood anything if I didn’t love you so much.”

“I know, I know,” she whispered in soothing tones, remembering how hard he had tried to convince her otherwise. Tenderly, his hand brushed her tears aside. “I think I would have died if you hadn’t come,” Karen murmured. Already she had gone cold inside, withdrawing from her family and life.

Rand breathed heavily. “I’m here now.” The words were clipped, almost angry.

His pride made him so defensive, Karen thought sadly. Knowing and loving Rand made her realize how much it had cost him to come to her.

“There’s only one chair left in the apartment.” She gave a tiny laugh and wiped the last happy tears from her face. “I’ll have to sit on your lap.”

The quizzical look on his face prompted her to add, “Everything else has been sold. I’m packed and ready to leave.” Her arms automatically went around his neck as she positioned herself on his knees.

His hands tightened around her upper arms. “Were you so sure of me?” His look was weary, and there was a grimness in him.

“I wasn’t sure of anything,” she said, defending herself. Her eyes narrowed questioningly. Certainly he couldn’t believe she had expected his return. In truth, she had never been more shocked in her life.

“I want the wedding to be small.” The demand startled Karen. She hadn’t expected him to mention marriage, not yet. Not that it mattered how many guests attended.

“Wedding?” Karen breathed in wonder as her heart soared with a new happiness. She began spreading kisses over his face, and fresh tears misted her eyes.

“Your father wouldn’t accept anything less,” Rand murmured caustically. “Nor would you.”

Karen was too happy to question his decision.

They were married nine days later in Evan and Milly Forsyth’s home. The preceding days were a whirlwind of activity as Judy, Karen, and her godmother rushed to have everything ready. Karen saw Rand only once, when they applied for their wedding license, and if he was curt and taciturn, she attributed it to nerves and the pressures of teaching. Because Rand had a speaking engagement in New York scheduled for the weekend of their wedding, it was decided that Karen would travel with him on a working honeymoon. Rand’s mother lived in New York, and Karen was eager to meet her.

As Rand wished, the wedding was unpretentious, with only family and a few intimate friends attending. The Forsyth home was decorated with garlands and several bouquets of fresh flowers. Their sweet fragrance lingered in the air, their colors vivid. Karen felt she couldn’t have asked for a more lovely wedding.

As Randall Franklin Prescott and Karen Madeline McAlister exchanged their vows, Rand’s voice was firm and unfaltering. Karen’s voice trembled slightly as she repeated hers. Her heart swelled with a burning love. Marrying Rand was the culmination of every romantic dream she’d ever had.

The wedding meal was served in the Forsyths’ huge dining room. If Rand was somber and unusually quiet, no one noticed, for Karen was so obviously happy. Her spirits soared with an unrestrained freedom, yet she had just uttered vows that bound her for life.

It was late by the time they arrived at Rand’s home. The stars were out in an ostentatious show, their brilliance lighting up the black, velvet sky.

As Carl carried in her cases, Karen looped her arm in Rand’s, savoring the beauty of the evening. “This reminds me of the night we met.” She smiled dreamily, placing her head against his upper arm. “Oh, Rand, I’m so happy … I love you so much.” She longed to have him take her in his arms and whisk her over the threshold, but he paused,
holding himself stiff and unyielding against her.

“My mother had a homemade sampler in the living room when I was a little girl. I’ve thought about it so often these past few days. I’d like to make one for our home.”

Rand remained unresponsive, and Karen hugged herself to him. “Aren’t you interested in what it said?” she asked with a gentle smile.

“I have the feeling you’re going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not,” he murmured.

Karen laughed. “It said, ‘If you love something, set it free. If it doesn’t return, it was never meant to be. But if it does, love it forever.’ ” She gave a long sigh. “I let you go that night. It nearly killed me to let you walk out of my life, but you’ve come back, and now I’ll love you forever.”

Rand jerked her arm from his. “That’s just the point,” he retorted angrily. “I
didn’t
come back. You forced me into this farce.”

“Forced you?” Karen asked in confusion. “I didn’t show up on
your
doorstep. You were the one who came to me.”

Rand gave a short, derisive laugh. “That I did, two hours before the deadline.” He stormed into the house, leaving Karen standing alone and baffled. When she followed him, Rand had already poured himself a tall drink from a decanter of whiskey.

“I thought you said you rarely drink?” she asked accusingly.

He snickered. “I find I can’t stand to be in your presence without something to dull my sense of decency.”

“That’s a rotten thing to say.” What was happening to him? Why was he acting like this? Karen searched his face, hoping to find some clue of what was wrong. All she could read was contempt.

“That’ll be all, Carl.” Rand broke into her thoughts. “I’ll call you when we’re ready to leave for the airport.”

Carl’s eyes avoided Karen’s, although she silently pleaded with him; for what, she didn’t know.

As soon as the front door closed behind her husband’s driver, Karen asked, “What … what did you mean when you said you came to me two hours before the deadline? What deadline?”

His face twisted malevolently. “Drop the charade, Karen. You’re not going to fool me by playing dumb. I’d guessed you’d try something like this.”

“Something like what? Rand, please, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He emitted another sadistic laugh. “I walked into the whole thing like a lamb going to the slaughter. I have to admire you, Karen. You were more cunning than I
thought possible.”

“Rand?” she pleaded urgently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” He tipped his head back and drained the glass. “I needed that.” Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he sat, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “Like a lamb to the slaughter,” he repeated. “You must have been frantic when you saw your little ploy wouldn’t work that night. You hadn’t counted on me handing you your walking papers so soon, did you? It was quick thinking on your part to pretend you’d hurt yourself. It got me into that bedroom.” He ran his hand over his eyes. “I should have known something was up when you were practically naked.”

“I’d spilled wine on my dress,” she cried.

“Sure you did.” His words were uttered in a harsh whisper.

Karen paced the living-room floor, her mind racing, her thoughts confused. Nothing made sense, least of all the things he was saying. “Rand,” she whispered imploringly, “I’m going to ask you one last time. Please tell me what’s going on.”

He sat upright, flexing his shoulders as if he were going to ignore her. “What did you expect me to do? Welcome you with open arms? I don’t take kindly to blackmail; I could hate you and your father for what you’ve done to me.”

“Blackmail? Dad?” She glared at him, her face tightening with shock. Walking the full length of the floor, Karen poured herself a drink from the same decanter Rand had used, then choked and coughed after the first gulp. “Good grief, how do you drink this stuff?” Her eyes were watering, and she shook her head; her mouth felt as if she’d been sucking lemons. She moved back to Rand. “All right,” she murmured tightly, “let’s start at the beginning. I invited you to dinner—”

“Like a black widow to her web,” Rand interrupted mockingly.

Karen clenched her hands together, fighting the urge to scream. “I invited you to dinner because … because I had to know what was happening with us.”

“Ha!” Rand laughed sarcastically. “More likely to lure me to your bed so your father could find us.”

“So my father could find us?” She echoed one of the short, bitter laughs he’d given her. “Really, Rand, if I’d gotten you into my bed, the last person I’d want to see is my father.”

“So you say,” he remarked flippantly.

Karen studied him closely again, feeling hurt and bewildered.

“I have to admit your duplicity worked well. I wasn’t given much choice, was I? Since Evan Forsyth is your godfather, who do you think he’d believe?” His mouth twisted bitterly. “I haven’t got ten years in at the university; you knew that. I’d stand a
snowball’s chance in hell of finding another decent position after Forsyth was through with me.”

Even as understanding came, Karen refused to believe what she was hearing. Matthew had seen them together that night and was using what he’d witnessed against Rand, forcing him to marry her. She inhaled sharply. “The noise that night was Dad,” she said incredulously, her voice tight with embarrassment.

“My contempt would be less if you’d admit your part in this.”

“Damn it, Rand,” she shouted, “I
am
telling you the truth.” Suddenly, her knees became so weak she had to sit down. She sat tense and stiff in the chair opposite Rand as she pleaded with him. “Please listen to me.” She spoke softly, enunciating each word. “I swear by everything I hold sacred that I had nothing to do with this.”

Uncertainty flashed across his face, wrinkling his brow. “I could almost believe you … almost.” His fingers twisted the wedding band, so recently placed on his finger, tying him to her. “But everything falls into place so neatly. You set up this trap for me …”

“I didn’t, I swear,” she cried.

“All right, you didn’t, but why was it when I came to your room, thinking you were hurt, that I found you half naked?”

“I already explained that,” she pleaded. “I spilled wine on my dress. I had to take it off and soak it, or it would have been ruined. After I removed the dress, I bumped into the closet door.”

“Your father just happened to walk in and witness that sordid little scene with us on the floor?”

Karen felt sick. “Dad … Dad has a terrible habit of walking into my apartment unannounced.”

Rand’s face turned sour. “Sure he does. You were so confident you had me trapped that you quit your job and packed your things.”

“No! I’d decided to leave Tacoma … to move away.” Karen could see it was useless; she couldn’t argue or reason with him. Rand had already tried her and found her guilty. “Nothing I can say will make a difference, will it?”

“That’s right,” he jeered. “I have to admit you play the innocent well, but I’ve fallen for your deceit once. I won’t be such easy prey next time.”

A sick sensation churned her stomach; they could never build a marriage under the circumstances. “I realize you believe I was involved in this. I think I can even understand that.” She spoke softly, her voice barely audible. “The evidence certainly points in that direction.”

“What takes the cake is that you even had the marriage performed at the Forsyth home,” he accused her again. “That was like rubbing salt in an open wound, my dear.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” she asked, with pain-filled eyes. “I’m not your dear. You must hate me.” Karen didn’t know how she could sound so calm when she wanted to scream.

Rand’s fingers tightened around the whiskey glass until Karen was sure the tumbler would be crushed into a thousand pieces. “I wish I could hate you,” he whispered in a tone that reminded her of the night he returned and admitted his love almost as if it were a guilty secret.