Authors: Phoebe Conn
Jason chuckled as he walked to the door. "I'll make no promises, Clay, but I'll do my best to be more helpful if you think you'll need me."
"I know I will!" Clayton exclaimed heartily.
Home had planned to serve a light supper that evening so each man might spend more time with one young woman rather than talking for a few minutes with them all. His housekeeper and the two maids had worked all day to prepare a buffet which would have delighted anyone, but it was especially tempting to the young women who'd had such a restricted diet for so many months. There were honey-cured hams and succulent roast chickens, string beans with bacon, coleslaw, thick slices of hot bread, plenty of freshly churned butter, and delicious wild-blackberry pies for dessert. It was a veritable feast. Before it was served each bachelor had the opportunity to select the young woman with whom he wished to share the fine meal. When several asked Jason what was keeping Gabrielle, he had no choice but to go upstairs to find her since he didn't want to send a young woman who did not already have a partner for supper after her. He cursed to himself as he mounted the stairs two at a time, but to his dismay the door of the room Gabrielle shared with her friends was ajar. The striking young woman was seated by the window,
obviously dressed and groomed for the party.
"There are several men anxiously awaiting your company. Your hair looks splendid as does your gown; now why aren't you downstairs where you belong?" he called from the doorway.
Gabrielle was again wearing blue, this dress a softly flowing muslin which clung to her figure seductively as she turned to face him. "I was waiting for Joshua to arrive. Since he has yet to appear, Tm not going to the party. I told you last night that I wouldn't go, so why are you pretending to be surprised?"
Exasperated, Jason shook his head. ''I know for a fact Clay told you to attend. It isn't your choice to make, Gabrielle."
Turning back toward the window, the lively redhead disagreed. "Do you recall telling me once to trust my own emotions? I thought it extremely good advice at the time, and it's what I intend to do now."
Jason did, indeed, remember giving her that advice, he could recall each exquisite detail of that morning clearly. That was the first time they'd made love and she'd called him darling— but only once. Perplexed by the calmness of her mood, he crossed the room and sat down on the foot of the bed nearest the window. "I had no idea my comments ever had the slightest effect upon you, so you must forgive me if I appear shocked when you say that at least one remark did. Your emotions, however, have nothing to do with attending the party tonight. Clayton told you to be there, and if I have to carry you down the stairs, you will go. Now why don't you spare both of us that embarrassment and just come with me without any further argument?"
"No," Gabrielle responded firmly. "I am not going to marry one of those men, Jason. It is as simple as that, and I'll not distract them from the other girls who truly are looking for a husband."
Watching her gaze intently out the window as if she were fascinated by the brilliance of the sunset, Jason regretted he'd
had no opportunity to draw Gabrielle's face in profile. No cameo ever had a more lovely subject carved in relief, but unfortunately she appeared to be as unmovable as such a sculpture. He could think of no way to convince her to come downstairs. She'd refused a request he thought he'd worded very reasonably so he changed the subject momentarily.
"Have you told any of your friends of your decision?"
"No»" Gabrielle admitted hesitantly. "It is not one I can easily explain. They are all very pleased with the men they've met, and I don't want to inflict my pain upon them when they are so happy."
"Yet you were going to go with one of the bachelors to his farm today, weren't you?" Jason suddenly remembered the conversation they'd had before breakfast and he realized her comments had been very contradictory.
"No. You said that, I didn't," Gabrielle explained coolly. "Iris was infuriated by your refusal to let her go with John Randolph, by the way. She wants to see a man's home before she makes up her mind to marry him, and in her opinion, you simply wasted the whole day for her. What made you change your mind about allowing us to leave?" She turned to face him then, her inquisitive glance as unsettling as her query.
"We are talking about you, not Iris," Jason reminded her sternly, adroitly avoiding the necessity of answering her question. He did not wish to lie about his motives, but he knew he could not reveal them. "Now you must attend tonight's party. I meant what I said. I'll toss you over my shoulder Hkea sack of flour if I have to, but I'm taking you downstairs right now." He rose to his feet as he spoke, hoping his sheer size might convince her to come with him quietly.
"No. You mustn't do that!" Gabrielle sprang to her feet, obviously greatly alarmed by his threat. It was too soon for her to be certain she'd become pregnant the last time they were together, but if she had, she desperately wanted his baby. Life had taught her how fleeting happiness could be, and so she
dearly wanted a child as a living reminder of the love they'd shared, no matter how brief or one-sided it had been. "You need not treat me as if I were a bag of produce. I can walk down the stairs on my own." She nearly flew to the door, not waiting for him in her haste to escape a rude embrace that she feared might do her great harm. "Well, aren't you coming to the party too?"
Jason tried to think of what he'd said that had made such a difference. The woman had flatly refused to attend the party, and now she was telling him to hurry! It made no sense at all, but he came forward to walk by her side.
"Tell everyone you couldn't find your shoes or something; don't say you were talking with me."
Gabrielle eyed him coldly, her bright blue gaze icy with hatred. "Heaven forbid that I would admit such a thing, Mr. Royal!" Her head held high she preceded him down the stairs and said good evening so graciously to Michael Jenkins that he thought she was truly pleased to find him waiting for her at the bottom of the steps.
Jason stared after her, still attempting to discern some meaning in her conflicting statements and actions. She was not crazy or stupid. On the contrary, she was exceptionally bright so she must have had valid reasons for each of her decisions, but he was damned if he could understand them. "Women!" he growled unhappily. Then, forcing himself to adopt a pleasant expression, he went into the parlor to make certain none of the girls was alone. Again he had to remind the bachelors who seemed so fond of Iris that they could not neglect the other young women. He found the brunette's continual stream of flattery tiresome, but clearly many of the men were captivated by her rather theatrical type of charm and were displeased when he insisted they focus their attention elsewhere. To his immense relief, now that Gabrielle had consented to attend the gathering, she maintained a warm smile and seemed to be listening attentively to each man with
whom she spoke. Jason was positive none of her comments would be insincere ones.
After supper the brides performed the songs they'd been rehearsing for many months, their voices now blending so harmoniously Jason's applause was as enthusiastic as that of the rest of the men. He waited until Clayton signaled that it was time to encourage the men to leave; then with his usual good-natured charm he ushered the bachelors through the front door. He followed them out into the night without a backward glance, but he could not shut Gabrielle out of his thoughts as easily as he had solved Clayton's problems for the evening. Taking charge of a group of twenty men was a far easier task than influencing one lissome beauty. Unfortunately time was now on her side rather than his, and that realization was doubly disconcerting.
"Gabrielle?" Erica whispered insistently. "Are you asleep?"
"No," Gabrielle admitted softly. It had taken her hours to fall asleep the previous night, and she anticipated another long bout of restlessness. Her mind gave her no peace but kept racing, memories crashing against each other with such violence she could not relax for even an instant, let alone long enough for sleep to overtake her. She could tell from the gentle sounds of deep breathing which surrounded her that only she and Erica still remained awake. "What is it?" she asked sleepily.
"I'm going to sneak out of the house before dawn and meet Lewis. Will you cover for me with Mr. Home? Tell him I'm sleeping late or taking a bath—anything—so he won't become suspicious and demand to see me?"
Since Lewis and Erica had spent most of the evening together, Gabrielle wasn't surprised they had made plans to meet secretly. Her first reaction was to say no. She never told lies of any sort, but her own life was now so far from exemplary
she did not see how she could refuse.
"I doubt he*ll notice. We're very seldom all together and you'll be back by evening, won't you?"
"Yes. At least I think so. Lewis wants to show me around his farm. He seems very proud of it so naturally I'm anxious to see it." Erica was quiet for several minutes and then asked shyly, *'What do you suppose it's like to make love?" Her mother had given her no advice whatsoever, and while she was terribly curious, she was more than a little bit frightened as well.
Gabrielle turned over on her stomach and pounded her pillow in an attempt to make herself more comfortable while they talked. She didn't dare tell Erica the truth, but she hated to appear as innocent as the pretty blonde when she no longer was. "I think it must be very nice, like kissing a man you like only much better."
"Do you really think so? Lewis is very gentle. When he holds me to dance or takes my arm as we move from one room to the next his touch is most pleasant. Some of the men are so clumsy they've crushed my fingers with the force of their grip or nearly broken my toes with their efforts to dance. While their conversation is not crude, I can't help but want to avoid them."
"I know exactly who you mean," Gabrielle agreed sympathetically. "Perhaps they simply lack experience with women and do not realize we are far more fragile than we appear."
"Experience?" Erica asked skeptically. "Would that make such a great difference in a man's behavior?"
"I really don't know. Perhaps." Not wishing to discuss the matter any further, Gabrielle turned away. "Shouldn't you try to sleep if you must be up so early tomorrow?"
"Yes," Erica agreed reluctantly. After yawning noisily, she closed her eyes, hoping to get some rest before the sun rose. However, she was so excited by the prospect of spending the day with Lewis that she doubted she'd be able to sleep a wink.
Gabrielle hugged her pillow more tightly, glad Erica had not
chosen to pursue the subject of making love since it was such a dangerous one. At least Jason had said being with her was far more pleasurable than being with any other woman he'd ever known. That compliment provided scant solace, however, when he'd not thought the enjoyment she gave him so willingly worthy of a marriage proposal. Hot tears of anger stung her eyes, but she dared not give in to such a weakness for fear Erica would hear her sobs and demand to know why she was so distraught. She felt like leaving the house by herself before dawn also, simply to go for a walk and have a few moments of privacy since that was a luxury she'd not had for almost five months' time and sorely missed. She made a greater effort to relax, to rid herself of the tension which filled her slender body as well as her thoughts, but the memory of Jason's taunting smile was impossible to erase. She lay wide awake while her friends slept peacefully, their dreams filled with romantic visions of the men they liked best and soon hoped to marry.
Despite Gabrielle's desire to have some time alone, she slept so late there was no hope of avoiding her roommates' lively chatter. They were too excited to keep still, and she again hid her own sorrow while she listened to their enthusiastic comments about the bachelors. Barbara had still not made up her mind about whom she liked best, while Marlene and Margaret had both found men whose attentions they had hoped to keep. Johanna had spent the previous evening with a rather shy young man who seemed to share her deep religious convictions, and she was looking forward to seeing him again that day. Iris had left their room early, certain she could influence Clayton to let her visit John Randolph's farm, but to her chagrin, he did not appear to invite her. She did have several callers that morning, but she was terribly disappointed when they were not the men she'd wanted most to see.
After her friends went downstairs to enjoy the fresh air in the garden or to speak with their visitors, Cabrielle remained in their bedroom. She pretended to be busy sorting through her
wardrobe for things which needed mending, but in reality she was hoping to think of some effective way to postpone the inevitable proposal she knew Michael Jenkins was sure to make. He was a very nice man, and had it not b^en for the confusion Jason had created in her life, Jenkins would have been precisely the type of man she would have thought herself fortunate to marry when she'd answered the ad to become a mail-order bride. He was sincere, personable. His appearance and manners were pleasing, and perhaps with skillful tutoring he could even learn to dance well. Now Gabrielle felt guilty that he liked her so much. But when he came to see her that afternoon, she again found herself listening to his polite attempts at conversation, and was unable to tell him how hopeless his attraction to her was. She knew what she was doing was dishonest and she didn't want to hurt him. Obviously the longer she delayed speaking the truth, the more betrayed he would feel. Gathering all her courage, she had just started to tell him her position when the front door of Clayton's impressive home flew open with a tremendous crash and both she and Michael turned to see who had caused such an uproar.
Since Erica had made not the slightest attempt to be discreet, nearly everyone in the house heard her entrance. She was screaming at Lewis Bradley, shrieking at the top of her voice that he was a scoundrel to whom she'd never speak again. Not one to take such a fiery insult quietly, Lewis had followed her through the front door and was about to run straight up the stairs after her when Jason tackled him and wrestled him into Clayton's study.