Authors: Jean Nash
“I don’t think so,” Jay said. “Whatever else she may have lied about, I think she’s genuinely concerned for you.”
“Lied?” She turned to him swiftly, her abstraction replaced by attentive alertness. “Why do you say that? Have you learned something about her? Why didn’t you tell me? Tell me now.”
Jay smiled and pinched her cheek, amused by the change in her demeanor. “I only learned it at dinner, Susanna. I had no chance to tell you until now.”
“Well?” she said impatiently.
“You mother was recently in
New York
,” he told her. “Why she lied about it—and so clumsily, too—is beyond my comprehension. Your mother is a very clever woman.”
“But how do you know when she was there?”
“When was she married?”
The unexpected question took Susanna aback. She thought for a moment. “In 1872. But what—?”
“Do you remember your mother saying she’d been to Sherry’s? That can’t be, because Sherry’s only opened this past October. Your mother also said she’d attended the Metropolitan Opera, which didn’t open until the ‘eighties, and that she’d seen the vaudeville at the Union Square, which Keith and Albee started presenting only five or six years ago. It’s almost as if she wanted me to know she was lying.”
“Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps to throw me off the scent. Or maybe it’s her subtle way of telling me to mind my own business.”
“It’s probably both,” Susanna said. “My mother is the mistress of subtlety
and
evasion.”
“Well, let’s see what happens tonight. Early in his career, Ford was a state prosecutor who never once lost a case he tried. Your mother was rather taken with him, did you notice?”
“Yes, I noticed.”
Susanna looked out the window again, beset by a nameless anxiety.
I think your mother is genuinely concerned for you,
Jay had said. What if that were true? Was it fair of Susanna to condemn her mother without knowing all the facts? What if Matthew had somehow caused
Augusta
to leave? What if she
had
written to her children and Matthew had destroyed the letters? But if that were the case, why didn’t
Augusta
just say so instead of obscuring the truth in an inscrutable shroud of mystery?
“Jay, I don’t want to go home,” Susanna said as she sighted the Sea Star in the distance. What she wanted, in fact, was to escape from the confusion of her thoughts.
“Where do you want to go?” His low voice was gentle. His arm went around her shoulders as if he sensed the thoughts that tormented her.
She leaned close against him, grateful for the comfort of his presence and understanding. How contrary was Fate to have foisted
Augusta
upon her and at the same time to have blessed her with Jay’s love.
“Anywhere.” She nestled snugly against him. “You choose a place. I’m tired of making decisions.”
“How about the Moorish Palace,” he suggested, “or the Blue Grotto? Or if you’re in the mood to have the wits scared out of you, we could try the London Ghost Show on
States Avenue
.”
“No,” she murmured, his nearness arousing in her the most pleasurable sensations. “Let’s go somewhere quiet...private.”
“Susanna,” he said softly, “are you making an indecent proposal?”
She felt his lips in her hair. His other arm encircled her, slowly, erotically, like the sensuous spiral of her ardent emotions. He needed only to look at her to start her heart pounding. He needed only to touch her to unfurl the delicate petals of her newly budding passion.
She reached up to embrace him. Her eager lips sought his. She loved his heady kisses, the firm warmth of his mouth, the mingling of his breath with hers, his strong arms around her pressing her closer, ever closer to his hard provocative body. Was it indecent to want him physically when she loved him so profoundly? No, it was right and proper; it was Nature’s own design. To give herself to the man who ruled her heart was the ultimate expression of sharing and love.
“I love you so much,” she murmured against his mouth. “Nothing could be wrong between us when I love you so much.”
Jay lifted his head and looked into her eyes, eyes brimming with love and longing and blind to all else. His expression was troubled, but Susanna took no notice. In the dark depths of his eyes she saw only the brilliant reflection of her own illimitable love.
The horses drew up in front of the Sea Star.
“Susanna,” Jay said, releasing her, “we’d better say good night.”
“But why?” Was it possible he didn’t know what she was offering? “Jay, I don’t want to say good night. I want....” She paused only an instant. “I want to stay with you, to be with you.”
“I know what you want, Susanna.”
Now she saw his troubled look, heard an undertone she couldn’t decipher in his low restrained voice. “What’s the matter?” she asked.
He was staring at her silently, his mouth a stern line. In her virginal innocence, Susanna interpreted his behavior as shock or, perhaps, reproach. Puzzled, she said, “Jay, what’s wrong? I thought you loved me. I thought you wanted me in that way.”
With a suddenness that took her breath away, he grasped her arms, pulled her against him, then kissed her once, hard and fiercely, on the mouth. “I do want you,” he said roughly. “I could take you right now, right here, not caring if anyone saw us. I want you all the time. I can’t look at you without wanting you.”
She was thrilled by his ardor, and a little apprehensive of the ferocity he’d never before shown her. “Then why won’t you make love to me?”
He released her so abruptly that she fell back with a jar against the door. His eyes burned into hers, but it seemed he was looking inward as if searching within himself for the answer.
“Jay, why?” she insisted, though his dark gaze alarmed her.
“I don’t know,” he finally said. “I’ve been asking myself that same question for weeks.”
Eight
When she gave the matter more thought, Susanna concluded reasonably that Jay cared for her too much to make love to her without the sanction of marriage. She was gratified that he was so concerned for her honor, but she couldn’t help wondering why he never spoke of marriage.
Not for a moment did she doubt his love for her.
Actions speak louder than words,
she kept telling herself. His help with the Sea Star, the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, all that and more told her how much he cared for her. Moreover, he had said that he loved her more than she could fathom. What more did she need to convince her?
After that night, in fact, it seemed he found it more and more difficult to restrain himself from making love to her. If the truth be told, Susanna went out of her way to test the limits of his control. Jay had teased her more than once about being a Siren, and, oddly, she found that she liked the role.
Whenever they were together, if others were present, she would touch his hand, lightly, nonchalantly, as if giving it no thought. When they were alone together working, she would drift over to the desk and look over his shoulder, leaning provocatively close to him. Jay wouldn’t move, he wouldn’t look up, but his mouth would take on that hard stern line which Susanna had come to recognize for the passionate restraint it was.
Some nights, when he was leaving the hotel, she would reach up to embrace him, twine her fingers in his hair, and press tantalizing kisses to the strong curve of his jaw. Jay would withstand her ardent aggression for as long as he could, then his arms would go around her, his mouth would capture hers, roughly, possessively, and he would kiss her until she was helpless and aching with desire.
Once, late at night in her office, he almost gave in to his instincts. Susanna felt the change in him, the tensing of his body as he pressed close to her, the deep probing passion of his kisses. His hands bit into her flesh, his ragged breath mingled hotly with hers. She wanted him so desperately, she wanted all his love. Now, she thought feverishly, now he’ll finally make love to me. But to her astonishment and disappointment he did not. He got angry.
“This has to end,” he said hoarsely, holding her close in his arms. “We can’t continue doing this, Susanna. Sooner or later, I’m not going to be able to stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” she said, aroused by the heat of his trembling body.
“I know you don’t!” His arms tightened, crushing the breath from her lungs. “That’s what makes it so hard for me to do so.”
It was times like these that she missed having a confidant to whom she could pour out her heart. Her work at the hotel had always precluded such relationships. She’d been too involved with the Sea Star to form close friendships.
Dallas
had filled that void when they were younger. She’d confided many of her youthful joys and fears in him. She considered doing so now about Jay, then vetoed the idea.
Dallas
had changed in the past few months. He was different, distant, no longer the “little brother” with whom she had once shared so much.
She said to him several weeks after the dinner with Jay and Augusta, “Where have you been keeping yourself lately? I’ve hardly seen you since Mother came back.”
“Oh, here and there,”
Dallas
said negligently.
It was an unseasonably warm mid-November morning. They were on their way to church, alone with each other for the first time in months.
Dallas
usually attended Sunday services with his mother, but today,
Augusta
had gone for a drive with Ford Weston, whom she was now seeing on a regular basis. Susanna was glad to have
Dallas
all to herself, but their old closeness, the special intimacy between them, seemed a thing from the past, like their long-vanished childhood.
“Here and there?” Susanna eyed him askance. “That doesn’t tell me much.” And then, remembering something
Augusta
had mentioned: “What were you doing in Brigantine a few weeks ago? Mother said you had some business there.”
“So I did,”
Dallas
said with a mysterious smile.
“What kind of business?”
“I bought an interest in Peter’s Beach.”
“What?” she exclaimed, horrified. Susanna had heard of that infamous place. Peter’s Beach was not a beach at all, but a two-story frame house situated on a small island across Absecon Inlet. Its only access was by boat, and the boatman did a brisk trade, for the establishment was noted for an excellent bar, high-stakes gambling rooms, and a staff of congenial “hostesses” who catered to a customer’s every need. “You bought a gambling house.
Dallas
, no!”
“Sunny, yes!” he mimicked her.
“Where did you get the money?”
He hesitated for no more than a second. “I’ve had a long run of good luck at Dutchy’s.”
“But,
Dallas
, a
gambling
house.”
“Why not?” His tone was defensive. “God knows I’ve lost my share at those places. It’s poetic justice that I should now be on the other side of the roulette wheel.”
It briefly occurred to Susanna that
Dallas
might have used his windfall to buy back his half of the Sea Star from Jay instead of investing it in another business. But then she chided herself for her selfishness.
Dallas
surely had the right to spend his money in his own interest. And yet, to have bought into such a notorious establishment....
“
Dallas
, why in the name of heaven did you do such a thing? Peter’s Beach is a scandal! Besides its dreadful reputation, the building is as old as the hills. The Brigantine town officials have been trying for years to have the property condemned.”
“With no success, you’ll notice,” he scoffed. “Sunny, think how much revenue they’d lose if Peter’s Beach closed its doors.”
“What’s happened to you?” she demanded, incensed by his attitude. “You owned one of the most respected hotels on the island. How could you toss it away so lightly and then turn around and invest in a wreck like Peter’s Beach?”
“Because it’ll be mine!” he shot back at her. “Charley Smith, the owner, has assured me that I’ll have an important say in running the place, which is something I never had while I was the
titular
part owner of the Sea Star.”
His contempt stopped Susanna in her tracks. She stood stock still in the middle of
Delaware Avenue
and would have been knocked down by a team of galloping horses if
Dallas
hadn’t pulled her swiftly out of their path.
“Are you blind?” he shouted, pushing her roughly onto the sidewalk. “You were almost killed, for God’s sake!”
She didn’t answer. She felt numb, stupefied, partly from the scare but more from the shock of
Dallas
’s harsh words. Is that what he had considered himself for the past two years, part owner of the Sea Star in name only? Susanna had never meant for him to feel that way. She had tried her best to involve him in the hotel’s operation. He had always resisted her, never showing the slightest interest in the Sea Star. It was almost as if he hated it. And now, the way he was glaring at her, it was almost as if he hated
her
.
“
Dallas
....” Her throat was bone-dry. It was difficult to speak. “I never realized you felt that way. Why didn’t you ever talk to me about it?”
He laughed coldly. “There’s no talking to you when it comes to the Sea Star. It was always yours—yours and Papa’s. I was invisible as far as you two were concerned. Mama must have felt the same way when she was living with us. That’s probably why she left, you know. But you’re so obsessed with your precious hotel that you can’t begin to understand what made her leave.”
Susanna felt dangerously close to tears. The news of Peter’s Beach, the fright of the near-accident, and
Dallas
’s startling accusations all struck her at the same time.
Dallas
peered at her. “You’re not going to cry, are you?” He had never seen Susanna cry—not when
Augusta
left them, not even when Matthew died. Afraid she might do so now, right there on a public street, he said nervously, “Sunny, I’m sorry if I upset you. People are looking at us. Come, let’s go home.”
She resisted his pull on her arm. Unmindful of the passersby who glanced in her direction, she stood her ground. “
Dallas
, how can you say such a thing? I never ignored you, never!”
“Sunny, let’s not debate the issue here. Let’s go home.”
“No. Not until you explain yourself.”
He took firm hold of her arm and directed her toward
Pacific Avenue
. “I’m not going to explain anything in front of an audience. In any case, there’s nothing to explain.”
“Yes there is,” she insisted, stumbling alongside him as he practically dragged her down the street. “I never made you feel invisible. And Papa....he loved you, Dallas, he really did.”
“Papa loved nothing and no one except the Sea Star,”
Dallas
said bitterly. “Why do you think he never drafted a will? It was because he couldn’t bear to think that someone other than he would own his sanctified hotel.”
“That’s not true!” she cried. “Why are you saying such cruel things? You’re the one who never wanted the Sea Star. Why are you twisting everything? And why did you invest in that sordid Peter’s Beach?”
“Because I wanted to!” He turned on her furiously. “
I
wanted to, not you or Papa or the powers that be.”
“That’s a wonderful reason,” she raged back at him. “You invested in a tawdry gambling house just to spite Papa and me.”
“Shut your mouth!” he said violently. “I’ve made my decision, and you’re not going to change it, no matter how you belittle what I’ve done. You’re my sister, Sunny, not my keeper, and from now on I’ll thank you to keep your short-sighted, single-minded opinions to yourself.”
Dallas
moved out of the Sea Star that very same morning. Over Susanna’s penitent protests, he packed some of his clothes and left instructions for George Watkins to have the rest of his things forwarded to his new lodgings at Peter’s Beach. Susanna felt so guilty for having caused him to leave that she turned to her mother for help in bringing him back. Never once did she stop to think how much she disliked and distrusted her.
“But what can I do?”
Augusta
asked in response to Susanna’s plea. “
Dallas
is of age. If he wants to live elsewhere, that’s his choice.”
“Mother, he
doesn’t
want to live elsewhere. Didn’t you hear what I just told you? Our quarrel forced him to leave. He thinks I’m trying to run his life and that I never really cared about him. Oh, how can he think that I never cared about him?”
“Hush, darling, calm yourself.”
Augusta
slipped an arm about Susanna’s shoulders, led her up the front steps, and urged her to sit on one of the wicker chairs that dotted the Sea Star’s latticework front porch. Ford Weston was with them. Susanna had been waiting on pins and needles in front of the hotel for the couple to return from their drive. As soon as they stepped out of the carriage, she had bombarded
Augusta
with a rambling account of her altercation with
Dallas
.