Lady Love (7 page)

“Mere details.”

“Well, what character are you doing?” he asked Lila, going back to his original subject.

“A character loosely based on Jasper Tudor,” she told him.

“Can you get enough information?”

“Merlyn already has,” Lila told him. “She’s a wonder. I’ve never seen the like of the books she brought with her.”

“Rob a bank?” he asked Merlyn pleasantly. “Or are they library books?”

“They were presents,” she mumbled. “From my father.”

Which was true. And they had cost a mint—some of them were out-of-print editions. She’d have to keep them out of his sight, or he might start making embarrassing connections.

After that, the conversation turned to politics, and Merlyn found herself caught up in it. It was a subject she knew a bit about, having helped friends of her father campaign from time to time. Cameron had a sharp, quick mind and inevitably they argued on issues. But he made valid points, and she enjoyed the heated exchanges. Lila only watched, a secretive smile playing around her lips.

“I have to confess, I’d forgotten what a challenge an educated mind could be,” Cameron said eventually, his eyes thoughtful as they studied Merlyn.

“Delle isn’t college educated?” Lila asked.

He glared at his mother. “Delle’s mind is quite sharp enough to suit me,” he said.

“But Merlyn can fish,” Amanda said shyly, joining the conversation for the first time.

Cameron glanced at his daughter. “So she can,” he said. Amazingly, he smiled. “Were you fishing, too?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He glanced at Merlyn, then back at his daughter. “I thought you didn’t like to handle the worms, Amanda.”

“Merlyn did it for me,” the child volunteered smugly.

“Barbaric,” Cameron commented.

“It’s not barbaric,” Merlyn told him with a flash of green eyes. “The worms obviously had nothing left to live for. I was simply helping them into the next world.”

“And the fish?”

“Same difference,” she returned. “The whole thing is quite humane, you see.”

“What a bright idea,” Lila said. “I’ve wondered for years how to rationalize that cruel sport.”

“Mother would spare every wild creature on earth if she had her way,” Cameron said darkly. “She belongs to a dozen societies for the preservation of animals that no one ever heard of.”

“You think conservation is an unworthy cause, Mr. Thorpe?” Merlyn asked. She leaned her chin on her hands and glared at him. “If there are no more trees, there won’t be any more oxygen. They take in carbon dioxide and return oxygen into the atmosphere. If we don’t preserve the wildlife habitats, there won’t be wildlife. If we kill off the predators, we’ll be overrun with rodents. If we let the seas die, every single living thing goes the way of them. Do, please, give me your views on the joys of pollution.”

“My God, another one,” he groaned.

“Merlyn! I’m delighted!” Lila said enthusiastically. “You must attend the next meeting of the conservation society with me.”

“I already belong to a dozen,” she replied, glaring across the table at Cameron. “And I’ve marched in rallies and written nasty letters, and once I organized a fund-raiser to help stop the spraying of a potentially dangerous insecticide.”

“A radical,” Cameron accused. “A card-carrying radical.”

“You bet,” she replied. “And proud of it.”

“You’d probably like to make all the wild off-limits to man. But you do enjoy your creature comforts, don’t you?” he persisted. “The lipstick you’re wearing has a petroleum base. So, probably, does that polyester and cotton top. Petroleum comes from off-shore drilling, which often causes pollution. The food you’re eating was cooked on an electric stove, and electricity comes from the harnessing and development of rivers. The chair you’re sitting on is made of wood, which means that a tree died to provide you with it. Now look smug.”

Merlyn tossed down her napkin and measured the distance between his head and her coffee cup.

He got to his feet with a mocking bow. “That’s why I don’t contribute to every preservation society that asks for a donation. Good evening.”

She slammed the table with her hand and let out an angry breath. “He’s incorrigible!” she told the coffee cup.

Lila laughed. “Yes. But despite his apparent opposition to environmental causes, he contributes heavily to the Cousteau Society and Greenpeace, among others,” she confided. “I happened to see the check stubs. He’d hidden them in the safe.”

“Daddy keeps his causes to himself,” Amanda added. “He was just leading you along, Merlyn. He’s a fanatic, too.”

***

The thought kept Merlyn awake half the night. Cameron was turning out to be so different from what she’d assumed. He was almost frighteningly intelligent. He was involved and he cared. But he kept all that hidden behind a mask of indifferent hauteur, which apparently no one but family was allowed close enough to penetrate. She doubted if Delle had ever been privileged to see the real man.

And yet he was contemplating marriage with the young woman. A merger, he’d said. Two companies. Nothing more. But he was obviously a passionate man. Did he desire Delle? Did he care for her? Merlyn seriously doubted it. But he’d as much as admitted that she herself could attract him that way. She flushed at the memory of his deep voice drawling it. He was dangerous, all right, and she had no intention of getting involved with him. But, physically, he made her tingle and burn. And she didn’t like that at all. She was tempted to give up the job and go home. But that wouldn’t be fair to Lila. And she couldn’t just let her father win. She sighed. Well, she’d just avoid Cameron. That would be the best way to cope.

***

On Monday Cameron went back to Charleston, and the women went back to work. By the end of the week, Merlyn got to read the first few chapters of Lila’s book as the writing started in earnest. She was fascinated by the amount of work the elderly woman could get through in a day, by the number of pages she produced.

“Ah, but it’s not as if I’m doing it by myself,” Lila said when they set to work. The morning was overcast so they were sitting in the library. “I just sit at the computer and inspiration comes. I can’t really take credit for what I do.”

Merlyn grinned at her. “It must be wonderful.”

“It’s a gift. One I never take for granted,” Lila confided. She turned on the computer and sighed. “I don’t know how in the world I managed with that old electric typewriter. It seems utterly archaic compared with this computer.”

“Dad makes those,” Merlyn blurted out and instantly regretted it.

“Computers?” Lila asked.

“The, uh, kit form, I meant.”

“Oh,” Lila said with a grin. “I couldn’t do that to save my life. He must be very smart.”

“He’s that,” Merlyn agreed. Several million dollars in the bank attested to her father’s brilliance in computers and components.

“Well, what do you think?” Lila asked, nodding toward the manuscript in Merlyn’s lap.

“It’s marvelous,” Merlyn said sincerely. “I love it! I’m so proud to have even a little part in the project.”

“You’ve got quite a large part, actually,” the older woman said with a laugh. “I don’t think I’d have dared undertake it without you.”

“Undertake?” Cameron asked as he joined them, with Amanda at his side. “An odd choice of words, isn’t it, Mother?”

He was wearing white that morning. White slacks and a white and red patterned shirt. He looked dark and dangerous and good enough to eat, and something in Merlyn reacted wildly to his presence, even though she’d heard his car drive up the night before. It was Saturday morning, but it felt like the beginning of a new lifetime, and she tingled all over just from looking at him. She deliberately avoided his eyes.

Lila smiled. “You look nice this morning, Cam.”

“The Radners come today, had you forgotten?”

I was trying to, Merlyn thought wickedly.

“No, dear, of course not,” Lila said. “Everything’s quite organized for tonight. Merlyn contacted the band for me. It seems that she knows one of the members.”

Those dark, intent eyes fixed on her. “Does she?”

It was a challenge. She peeked up at him. “Oh, yes,” she told him. “He’s a friend of long standing.”

It was her friend Dick Langley, the race car driver. She’d sworn him to secrecy about her true identity when she called him. Dick had been glad to oblige. In his spare time he sat in with a local band and played drums. Just for fun. God knew, he had enough money to do whatever he liked. Besides, he liked to put one over on people. And Merlyn’s masquerade had piqued his interest.

“What does your friend play?” Cameron asked.

“Drums,” she told him. “And he’s very good.”

“A passionate instrument,” he replied casually. Too casually.

“He’s a passionate man,” she murmured with a secretive smile.

“I can’t wait to meet him,” Lila said. “He sounds quite interesting.”

“He’ll wind up in a book if he is,” Cameron muttered.

“He will not,” Lila grumbled. “I’ve told you a hundred times that I don’t put real people in books. It would be suicide. I’d be sued to the back teeth.”

“Sorry, Mother,” he said with a dry smile. “I forgot.”

“No, you didn’t,” Lila countered, rising. “You simply like to start fights, Cam. It’s a bad habit you’ve fallen into.”

“I’m trying to break it,” he assured her, but the glance he gave Merlyn was far from reassuring. She kept out of his way the rest of the day.

***

Dick Langley delivered her gown—a devastating green velvet—that evening. It was a designer dress that she’d had him bring from her father’s house. He handed her the box as he came in with the band.

“One masquerade gown, intact, despite the fact that it’s pouring out there,” he said. He was almost as tall as Cameron, but blond and blue-eyed and overdosed with charm. He was using it now, trying—as he had for years—to catch Merlyn’s eye.

“Thanks for bringing it. And for bringing the group,” she added. “Only the best, you know.”

“What are you up to, lady?” he asked, moving aside as the other four members of the band filed in, along with the caterers.

“Something sinful,” she whispered, smiling.

He bent and brushed his mouth lazily over hers, a teasing, undemanding caress that was pleasant and nothing more. “After the gig’s over, let’s discuss sinful things together.”

“We’ll see,” she murmured demurely.

“Devil woman,” he whispered. He winked and turned away toward the large living room, which had been cleared for dancing.

“An old lover?” Cameron asked from behind her, his eyes glittering as he stared after Dick. He was wearing dark evening clothes, and he smelled of a delicious manly fragrance. Her earlier criticism of his cologne had been pure fabrication.

“An old friend,” she countered, clutching her box.

His eyes narrowed on it. “He bought you a dress?” he growled. “For God’s sake…!”

The assumption made her furious. “So what if he bought me a dress?” she challenged. “What business is it of yours?”

He glowered down at her. “You’re an employee here.”

“Not a slave, Mr. Rochester—would you keep that in mind?” she shot back. “If you want me to leave, say so.”

He looked as if he was about to, when Delle came marching in just ahead of her mother. They were elegantly dressed, Delle in a peach-colored silk dress that reached to the floor and hugged her ample bosom. Mrs. Radner looked stern and formal, as usual, in a lacy black gown with a high Victorian neckline.

“Not coming to the dance, Miss Forrest?” Mrs. Radner asked coolly, staring at Merlyn’s jeans and shirt.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Merlyn replied sweetly, clutching her box. “My dress just arrived. If you’ll excuse me?”

“Cameron, you’ve hardly said two words to me since we got here,” Delle was complaining as Merlyn scurried upstairs. “Can’t you spare just five minutes?”

Merlyn almost felt sorry for the girl. She was so infatuated, and Cameron, damn him, was treating her like a piece of candy he wasn’t sure he wanted. Men, she thought angrily, were all alike.

She passed Lila on the way to her room. The older woman was wearing white, a beautiful gown that, in its simplicity, outshone the Radners’ outfits.

“Gorgeous,” Merlyn told her. “Halston, isn’t it?”

Lila looked shocked. “Why, yes.”

“I thought so. Such fluid lines. Well, I’ll get my gown on and see you later.” She smiled and walked into her room. Oops, she thought as she closed the door. She’d almost given herself away again. A penniless scholar wouldn’t have known a Halston gown on sight. But Merlyn, who’d been fortunate enough to have her trousseau done by Halston, knew the designs well. Her eyes clouded. She’d had such high hopes for Adam and herself. It had been a devastating blow, to find that he hadn’t wanted her—physically or any other way.

She dressed angrily, hating Adam, hating herself for being so blind. And now she was beginning to daydream about that horrible Cameron. Well, she’d just have to stop it. This was a job that would soon be over. Nothing more.

She tugged on her gown and its matching shoes and fixed her hair in a high, elegant coiffure. She used more makeup than usual, emphasizing her thick, long lashes, her full mouth and her high cheekbones. She fastened her mother’s pearls around her throat, put on the matching earrings and stared at herself in the mirror. Well, Miss Radner, she thought wickedly, top that.

“Wow,” came a soft little voice from the doorway.

She turned to Amanda, smiling at the awe on the young girl’s face. Merlyn knew she looked good in the designer gown. It was a long sheath of dark green velvet with a strapless bodice composed of pleated satin only a shade lighter than the velvet. It was an altogether bewitching dress, and the pearls set it off beautifully.

“Are you really Merlyn?” Amanda asked. “You sure do look different.”

Merlyn went forward to kiss the girl warmly. “You make me feel like a fairy princess. I just hope my pumpkin doesn’t vanish.”

“Not before midnight, anyway.” Amanda giggled. “Good night. Have fun.”

“I hope to. Sleep well, darling.”

She left Amanda at her own room and continued down the stairs. The band had just started playing, and the tune was one Dick had chosen deliberately. It dated back to their high school days, a lazy tune that was pure seduction.