Where the Heart Chooses (18 page)

“Would you want him to marry, simply for the
sake of children, knowing he’d prefer a man to their mother?”

She was silent for a long moment, and then
shook her head. “It’s a difficult enough thing, marrying a Sebring.
If you’re not their one, the odds of it being a happy marriage are
very slim. Look at Bryan and Johanna. I wish I knew why he married
her.”

“You don’t think he loved her?”

“No. I think he was fond enough of her to
begin with, and I’d hoped they’d rub along fairly well, but I’ve
seen his eyes when he doesn’t realize he’s being observed. He’s a
very unhappy man.”

“Did you know my friend Allison was
attracted to him?”

“Allison? Your TZE sister?”

“Yes.”

She’d asked me to have lunch with her, and
over her third martini it came out that her husband was seeing
another woman. It wasn’t the first time, and it probably wouldn’t
be the last. For some reason, the topic of my brother came up.

“
Do you know, the first time I saw him
was at your wedding. I took one look at him, and I swear I went
weak in the knees.”

“
Really? I had no idea!”

“
Well, I could hardly drag him away from
the reception, although I was sorely tempted.” Her voice became
dreamy. “His lips looked so kissable…”

I’d never noticed, but that was a good
thing. I was his sister, after all.

“…
and he was a marvelous dancer.”

“
I’d have loved having you for a sister,
Allison.” So much more than Johanna. “And Tommy and Ian would have
been Bryan’s.”

“
Don’t tell him, Portia, but if he’d
crooked his finger, I’d have gone with him anywhere.”

“
My lips are sealed.”

“
However did we get on this subject?” She
was embarrassed, which I could understand. She took her vows
seriously, even if her husband didn’t. “Let’s change it, if you
don’t mind?”

“I believe I remember that son of hers,”
Mother said with a chuckle. “He was a hellion.” I was pleased to
have lightened the mood. “I seem to recall he created quite a bit
of havoc at one of Quinton’s birthday parties.”

“Yes, he did. I swear we’d only turned our
backs for a moment, and I still have no idea how he got hold of
popping corn and threw it into the fireplace. It took Alyona
forever to get the kernels out of the carpet. Allison offered to
replace it, but I told her not to be silly, that at least he hadn’t
set the curtains on fire. It was worth it. The children had such a
fun time.”

She patted my hand. “You’re a wonderful
mother. I don’t believe I’ve told you, but I’m very proud of you.
Now, let’s see if we can find something to buy. Your father will be
disappointed if I haven’t spent any of his money.”

* * * *

Saturday, I sent Quinton out with Gregor,
and Alyona and I cleaned the house from top to bottom.

Dinner was a quiet affair, and afterward,
although the television was on, I wasn’t inclined to think any of
us paid it any heed.

Afterward, Gregor paced and growled under
his breath. I attempted to balance my checkbook but wound up
turning it into a jumbled mess. Alyona decided baking bread would
be a good idea, so she took Quinton into the kitchen with her and
had him knead the dough into submission.

* * * *

The next morning, the four of us went to
church. We returned home to find the light on the answering machine
blinking.

The speaker was male, and the message was in
Russian. “He’s safe and on his way home. If you wish to thank the
person responsible, give her a call at eleven A.M. your time.”

Of course I wished to thank her. A glance at
my watch showed I had about ten minutes.

Quinton translated the first part of the
message, and Gregor and Alyona hugged each other, hugged him,
hugged me.

The next message was from Ludovic. “I just
heard from…a friend of Jefferson’s. He’s coming home!”

I called him first. “It’s Portia. I know
you’ll want to keep this line open, so just let me say thank you
for letting us know. We’re so relieved.”

“As am I. I thought…I wasn’t sure…” His
voice cracked. “I have to go.”

“Yes. I’ll let my parents know.”

“Thank you. I didn’t even think…I don’t know
where my mind has gone.”

“It’s all right. Ludovic, if you need
anything, feel free to call on us.”

“I will. Thank you. Good-bye.”

I hung up the phone.

“I go make us special dinner.” Alyona
hurried out of the room.

“Do you have anything for me to do,
Portia?”

“No, Gregor.”

“In that case, I’ll try to catch forty
winks. I didn’t sleep at all last night.” He yawned and gave his
scalp a vigorous rub.

I patted his shoulder. “You’re a good
friend. Thank you.”

“Mmm.” His eyes were already at half-mast as
he walked toward the stairs.

“Mother?” Quinton lingered in the
hallway.

“I have to make that phone call, sweetheart,
but afterward, what would you say about going for a ride?”

“I’d love it. I’ll get changed.”

First, I called my parents. Mother cleared
her throat after I told her. “Thank you, Portia. I’ll tell your
father. And Portia?”

“Yes, Mother?”

“If you’ll inform whoever is responsible for
getting him home in one piece—”

“I don’t understand why you would think I’d
know anything about Jefferson’s rescue. Tony and Bryan were at
Langley coordinating it.”

“Humor me, all right? I must go now. Your
father never came to bed last night, and God alone knows how he’s
going to be. Good-bye.”

“Bye, Mother.”

I shook out the hairpins and ran my fingers
through the French twist I wore. Then I picked up the receiver and
dialed the number that would connect me to Folana.

She picked up on the third ring. “Ah. I see
Trevalyan kept his word.”

“Did you think he wouldn’t?”

“The British intelligence doesn’t look
kindly upon me.”

“They can go—” I remembered how they’d tried
to manipulate me into Folana’s bed. “Thank you, Folana. My mother
sends her thanks as well. We owe you more than I can ever say. If
there’s anything I can do to repay you—”

“You owe me nothing, because I did nothing.
Bart was the one who found him and got him out of Chechnya.”

“Then if you’ll let Bart know?”

“He would have done it anyway. He has a
fondness for your brother—were you aware?”

“I suspected as much.” I thought about the
blond hair I’d plucked from Jefferson’s suit jacket years ago. “But
Folana—”

“I’m sorry, I must go.”

“Let me just say thank you.”

“You already did, but…You’re welcome, my
dear friend. I’m pleased you finally had need of me.” She hung up
before I could say anything more.

* * * *

Ken McIlvoy grinned when he saw us. “I’ll
have Mary Lincoln and the Godfather brought out for you.”

The trails were empty, and we were able to
let the horses gallop for long stretches. Finally we turned
back.

“You’ll be returning to New Hampshire
tomorrow.” I planned to drive him and speak to the principal to
make sure there were no misunderstandings about Quinton’s delayed
arrival.

“Yes. I’m already packed.”

“In that case, now that we no longer have to
worry about your uncle, what are your plans for this
afternoon?”

“I’d sort of promised to go with Lacey
Richardson to the movies.”

She lived down the road and had competed
against Quinton a few times. She’d won some, he’d won some, and
apparently there were no hard feelings.

It seemed there was no need for me to write
to invite Armand Bauchet to come for a visit. I was pleased that
while my son had had an adventure this past summer, he was
heart-whole.

* * * *

There was a tap on my bedroom door.
“Yes?”

“Mother, Uncle Bryan was on the phone. He’ll
be stopping by in about twenty minutes. I’ll wait until he gets her
before I leave to meet Lacey.”

“All right, sweetheart. Thank you.” I shed
my riding habit and took a quick shower, then dressed and rather
than put my hair up in its usual French twist, I simply plaited
it.

Alyona brought Bryan to the back parlor. His
eyes were tired, and he had a scruffy look, as if he hadn’t shaved
in days. “You look about fifteen,” he said.

“Which is why I don’t usually wear my hair
this way.” I went to him and kissed his cheek. “It’s good to see
you.”

“Same here, little sister.” There was
alcohol on his breath.

“Ludovic called to let me know that
Jefferson is all right.”

“Quinn told me. I’m sorry, Portia. I didn’t
even think to call you.”

“This has been a bad week for you. Don’t
worry about it. You’ve had enough else to worry about.”

“Did Johanna call you?” He looked
perturbed.

“No. Should she have?” The fact that he’d
been drinking perturbed me. It was unusual for him, and especially
on a Sunday afternoon. I sat down on the loveseat and patted the
space beside me. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

For a moment I thought he wouldn’t, but then
the words tumbled out, one over the other. “Libby was expelled for
meeting a boy after hours.”

So that was why Johanna wanted Quinton out
of her house.

“Johanna…” He scrubbed his face. “I don’t
think I’ve ever seen her so hysterical. She insisted on taking
Libby to the family doctor to make sure she was still intact.”

“Intact? You mean a virgin?” I was startled
to see him blush, but he nodded. “She did that to her own daughter?
Oh, Bryan, I hate to criticize your wife, but that really wasn’t a
smart thing to do!”

“I know. If I’d been home, I would have
stopped her.”

“I thought my offer to get Libby into
Tidewater would help, but it seems I’ve made things more difficult
for you. I’m sorry.”

“No more than usual, and it’s not your
fault, Portia. Johanna blames everyone for Libby’s behavior except
Libby.”

“I can understand her going out after hours.
We all did it.”

“Well, at least you had the sense not to get
caught.”

“Yes. It’s almost—”

Alyona tapped on the doorframe. “I am not
interrupting, I hope?”

“Not at all, Alyona.”

“I make sandwich for Mr. Bryan. I make with
black bread Quinton and I bake last night. Will put meat on your
bones.”

“Thank you, Alyona.” He tucked into it, and
I wondered when he’d last eaten.

Alyona nodded in approval. “I make tea now,”
she said as she left the room.

“When was the last time you ate, Bryan?”

“Dunno,” he mumbled around a mouthful.
“Sorry. Tony saw that food was brought in, and I must have eaten,
but…breakfast today? Dinner last night? God, Alyona makes the best
roast beef.” He moaned around the latest mouthful. “Never mind
about that. You were saying?”

I thought back over what he’d told me before
Alyona came in. “It was very sloppy of Libby. I wonder if she
wanted to get caught.”

“I wondered that myself. But why?”

“To hurt you?”

“I don’t matter enough in her life.” His
words were cool, but I could see what was going on in his home
disturbed him. “Johanna’s never let me get close enough to her
children to mean more than someone who has dinner with them on
occasion.”

He looked at his sandwich, and I wondered if
he’d lost his appetite, but then he resumed eating, although this
time it seemed with less pleasure.

I rose and went to the window, drawing aside
the curtain and looking out at the trees. The tips of their leaves
were touched with color. Soon they’d turn completely.

“I shouldn’t have dumped this on you,
Portia. Please don’t mention this to anyone.”

I turned to look at him. “Johanna isn’t the
one, is she?”

“No. I’d hoped we could make a go of
it—Mother and Father have—but after we lost Bryan Anthony, it
seemed there was no reason to make an effort. We haven’t shared a
bedroom since then.”

I remembered the passion Nigel and I had
enjoyed, and I grieved that my brother had so little intimacy in
his marriage. I went back to him and squeezed his shoulder. “I
promise this will just be between the two of us.”

“Thanks, little sister.” His hand fisted
closed, and he looked down at what was left of his mangled sandwich
with a pained expression. “Alyona is going to be angry with
me.”

“She’ll get over it. She’s very fond of
you.”

He smiled faintly and shook his head.

“Tell me. How is Jefferson?”

“Ludo didn’t say?”

“He just told me Jefferson was on his way
home.”

“Tony and I went to see Jeff for a few
minutes once he was home. He had hell beat out of him, but he was
more or less in one piece. This big Brit had somehow managed to get
him out of Chechnya.”

“What on earth was Jefferson doing
there?”

Bryan shrugged. “Wrong place at the wrong
time, as far as we could ascertain. The rebels thought he was an
Aussie businessman.”

“Australian? Jefferson was never good at
accents.”

“He threw around a lot of slang, and
apparently they bought it.”

“It was fortunate Bart was able to get him
out of there before they realized who they had.”

“I didn’t say anything about Bart Freeman
being the big Brit.”

“Didn’t you? How odd.” I folded my hands and
met his gaze.

“Portia, did you get that Fournaise woman
involved?”

“Why would you think I’d do something like
that?”

“Freeman’s her right-hand man.”

“He’s also a good friend of
Jefferson’s.”

“Breezy…” He sounded at the end of his
tether, and I decided I’d concede the point.

“Bryan, did you honestly think I’d sit back
and twiddle my thumbs while a brother of mine was in danger?”

He stared at me for a long moment before
finally giving a rueful smile. “I guess not.”