Her Perfect Match (9 page)

“And this is my mother, Louise,” Elizabeth said, hoping her lack of enthusiasm didn’t show.

“Alton. Alton? Of the West Chester Altons?”

“Colorado, ma’am.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth’s mother replied with a look on her face that spoke of a bad smell. “I’d like a word with you, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth knew the problem. Jack didn’t come with an Ivy League pedigree and more than likely didn’t have the kind of bank account that could get them out of trouble. Lance Goodwin Bond had both, and she’d refused to attend the Graystone Ball with him. Of course, she would have refused to attend a dogfight with that pompous jerk. Consequently her parents saw her as an ungrateful daughter, and she was sure they’d cast Jack in the part of interloper.

Just then she caught the look that passed between
her parents. There was no way she was leaving Jack with her father, and besides, she and her mother had talked enough lately. Especially since Louise Boyer had developed a one-track mind—and that track was named Lance!

Threading her arm with Jack’s, Elizabeth replied, “I don’t think so, Mother. Perhaps I’ll see you after the event tomorrow. Jack, darling,” she continued, pretending not to notice her mother’s glare. “I think I heard something about a cold supper in the dining room. Shall we see what there is to offer?”

“Perhaps you’re right,” her father snapped. “But we
will
talk tomorrow.”

“What was that all about?” Jack asked.

“Some mothers dream of a knight in shining armor for their daughter. My mother dreamed of a nice fat bank account with legs. She’s a little miffed that I wouldn’t come here with a certain prime specimen after all the work she went to reeling him in.”

After all, Elizabeth thought, what did her mother care if her daughter was happy as long as she secured a new source of funds—one with an acceptable pedigree—for their life-style?

They were almost out of the conservatory, where the orchestra had begun a series of melancholy show tunes, when they came upon Cole standing apart from his family. He didn’t see them but looked longingly toward where the Taggerts stood talking with CJ Larson.

“So what do you think of CJ’s new look?” Elizabeth asked from behind him.

Cole pivoted to face her and Jack Alton. “What did you have to do with this? CJ never dresses like that.”

Elizabeth held up her hand, suddenly fighting a smile. Cole was down for the count. “It’s Hope’s dress and shoes. All I did was stop by to make sure CJ didn’t embarrass you tonight.”

“I’d never be embarrassed by CJ,” Cole snapped.

Elizabeth arched her brow and adopted the persona of the idle rich she often taunted Cole with. “Believe me, you would have died rather than walk in here with her dressed in a pair of velvet jeans and a silk shirt.”

Cole gritted his teeth. “I wouldn’t have cared. It might have made tonight easier. Did you ever think of that?” He didn’t wait for a reply but stalked away.

Elizabeth chuckled, sure the look she shot him was all the answer he needed to decipher her twofold mission. The Lexingtons would have torn CJ apart had Elizabeth and Hope not acted, and it was an added bonus that Cole would have a hard time resisting CJ’s obvious charms.

“I don’t get you two. Why was he so mad and why were you so—”

“Difficult? You have a sister, right? Try using the same frame of reference for me and Cole.”

Elizabeth watched Jack’s eyes go from confused to thoughtful, a little smile tipping his lips. Suddenly he made sense to her. He really was jealous of Cole. She hadn’t believed it when he’d confessed earlier. For a
second she felt all the feminine power she’d ever dreamed of possessing. But reality quickly intruded. She had no idea what to do with such power, and the thought of trying to use it terrified her.

J
ackson stared ahead, trying on Elizabeth’s suggestion for size. His sister, Crystal, was his best friend, and though no one knew it but a few close family members, they weren’t any more related than Elizabeth and Cole. Crystal and Jackson had also developed a weird kind of silent communication, and it often took only a look to know what the other was thinking. And that was what Elizabeth was trying to tell him. It was what she’d already told him last Sunday at church. He let it sink in. Cole had never stood between them. Jackson’s imagination had.

He looked across the dance floor as Cole asked a gorgeous blonde to dance. “Don’t look now but I think your plan just backfired.”

Elizabeth giggled. “No, it didn’t. That is CJ Larson.”

After recovering from the shock of hearing Elizabeth Boyer giggle, Jackson blinked and looked again.
Sure enough…“No way. Oh, Cole’s a goner,” he pronounced after identifying the trainer’s features. He turned to Elizabeth and felt as if his heart were being squeezed in a vise. Her eyes were alight with mischief, and her smile gleamed wide and undisguised. He felt love for her swell inside him till he thought he would burst.

Then he caught sight of the forbidding figures of Reginald and Louise Boyer standing in the doorway and his joy evaporated. Her parents were going to be a problem. They were clearly livid that he was with their daughter. She didn’t seem to care, but how could that be? He remembered what Meg had said about the couple as parents and what Elizabeth had said about trying to adjust to being considered a failure by her mother. Would Elizabeth continue to defy them or eventually seek their favor?

Tonight it didn’t seem to matter, Jackson realized. If heartbreak lay ahead, then he might as well steam on toward it because when Elizabeth opened her door earlier tonight, she’d sealed his destiny.

He knew the second her parents spotted them and moved forward. Jackson decided to put off another confrontation. “You know what? I could use some air and I’d like to get a closer look at those gardens we saw on the way up the drive. They almost make up for the haunted castle atmosphere.”

“Through there,” she said, pointing toward an open doorway. They walked down a wide hall lined with huge portraits of men and women he assumed were Graystone ancestors, then entered another con
servatory that led to the garden. The well-lit, perfectly engineered copy of a formal English garden added to the feeling Jackson had when they’d pulled up in front of the mansion, as if he’d been transported an ocean away. Had this been a tourist attraction or a theme park, he probably would have thought the effect interesting and enjoyed it. But this was supposed to be a family home. And a less homey place he’d never seen.

“Didn’t this Graystone fella ever hear we fought a war to kick out the British and their class system with them?”

Elizabeth laughed, a china bell sound that gladdened Jackson’s heart.

“Don’t fool yourself about the class system. It’s alive and well almost everywhere old money still exists. But that’s what I like most about you, Jack. You aren’t impressed by all this. The funniest thing of all is that Graystone isn’t old money. He’s just trying desperately to blend in with it. Those ancestors we just passed in his gallery were bought and paid for. His wife goes to estate auctions all the time and buys old portraits the real descendants don’t want any more. Sort of retro adoption.”

Jackson stopped next to a fountain and studied her in the glow of the underwater lights. “You’re pulling my chain. Right?”

Elizabeth grinned and shook her head. “Sorry.”

“Please tell me most of those people in there aren’t impressed by all this.”

“I’m sure Ross Taggert and his entire clan are
laughing up their collective sleeves. They’ve stayed away before. They’re only here because Ross is riding in the Graystone Cross-country tomorrow.”

“I hope he’s right and it helps business. I looked at some old records, and the farm hasn’t bounced back all the way after the trouble they had last summer.”

“It should help. A lot of people who should have remained loyal to Laurel Glen didn’t. Most made promises about returning their stock once the vandal was caught, but so far only half have.”

“You know what’s odd? I was looking at a book Amelia did on the original residents of Chester County, and the Taggerts are an original land grant family. The oldest of the old money, and they are the least affected by it.”

“They’ve stayed in the business end of their farm and they’ve added to their holdings over generations. In other words, they haven’t always been as successful as they are now. They aren’t strangers to adversity, either. Ross’s father died very young and didn’t have his financial ducks in a row. I understand from Cole that it was part miracle and the rest hard work for Ross to manage to hold on to the place. That’s why he’s so willing to run in the cross-country tomorrow. He worked hard to make a success of Laurel Glen and he’s determined to be on top again the way he was before Harry Donovan started causing trouble last summer.”

“So why are you here?”

She smiled shyly. “Besides that you asked me?”

He grinned, loving the happy sparkle in her eyes. “Yeah. Besides that.”

“I usually come for the chance to pick up a patron or two for New Life Inn. This year Charles Graystone is donating a percentage of the gate to us. As for why the others came…” She shrugged. “I couldn’t say. I just know all this stopped impressing me a long time ago.”

“Why? You were raised in this world.”

Jackson was horrified to see tears well in her eyes. “Because there are things more important than money and status. A lot of those people in there don’t understand that.”

He had a feeling she counted her parents among those people. She suddenly looked sad, and her eyes took on an unfocused look that was filled with pain and anguish and something more worrisome that he couldn’t decipher. Wanting to comfort her, he caressed her cheek and enfolded her in his arms.

She looked up, her lashes spiky with unshed tears, and he dipped his head, kissing her forehead, her temples, her soft cheek, then those tempting lips. The woman had him bewitched, Jackson thought as he deepened the kiss and pulled her closer.

“No!” she gasped, shoving him as she backed away.

“What?” His head swimming in confusion, Jackson just barely caught himself before he tumbled into the fountain.

“I can’t,” she whispered, shakily. “I’m sorry. I wish I could be different but I can’t—”

“Fine!” Jackson snapped. He got the message. She might know there were things more important than money and status but she couldn’t let go of the world to which she was born. He’d heard it all before. He wasn’t part of Colorado’s high society, either, no matter how much the Circle A was worth.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“No, don’t apologize. Better I get the message now. I don’t fit in your world. The valet has your keys. Why don’t you take care of business for your women’s shelter and I’ll hop a ride with someone else. I imagine one of the Taggerts will give me a lift home. Have a nice life with your well-heeled friends, Elizabeth.”

He turned and walked off, hoping he didn’t get so lost inside he’d have to ask any of these pretentious fools for a map.

Meg Taggert saw Elizabeth rush across the foyer toward the front door. Her young friend looked devastated and was clearly fighting tears. Meg caught her by the arm. “What is it, dear? What’s wrong?”

“Me. I’m wrong,” Elizabeth said, her voice betraying a soul-deep anguish. “But Jack doesn’t understand. And why should he even try? Why should any man put up with me? I should just make up my mind to be alone. That way nobody gets hurt. I didn’t mean to hurt him.” She sniffled and looked over Meg’s shoulder. “I have to go. I think I’ll sleep in tomorrow, after all. Maybe I’ll see you at the cross-country.”

She turned and hurried away before Meg could ask another question. More than not knowing what had gone wrong, it bothered her that Elizabeth had canceled their church plans just when she needed the Lord most. She sighed. Young people. They never looked in the right place for answers.

“Was that Elizabeth?” Louise Boyer asked. Meg had been so deeply engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard anyone approach.

Meg suddenly understood what had caused Elizabeth to turn and leave so abruptly. It was sad. Most young women ran to their mothers, but Elizabeth found it necessary to flee hers. “I believe she remembered somewhere else she needed to be,” Meg answered truthfully, not adding, “Anywhere where you weren’t,” even though she was dying to put this woman in her place.

“Well, I’m thankful for small favors. Imagine her accepting an invitation from a farmworker. Hopefully she came to her senses.”

“She seemed a bit upset,” Meg told the odious woman.

“She more than likely saw how badly he fit in with our set. Why, he could barely lead her around the floor for a simple dance.”

Meg ground her teeth wondering how long she could keep silent. “Actually, I danced with Jack just a few minutes ago. He dances divinely, though he did seem a bit grim.”

“I don’t care if his heart is bleeding all over his
rented tux. He should have known his place and not asked my daughter to come here with him.”

“Jack is a wonderful young man. Conscientious. Hardworking. Godly. She could do a lot worse.”

“And she could do much better. I still can’t believe she turned down Lance Goodwin Bond to come here with that common man.”

Meg itched to list more of her son’s assets, especially the size and wealth of the Circle A—the only thing that would be important to Louise Boyer—but she resisted. Instead she said, “We all have our priorities, Louise. I’ve always known ours were different but I never realized they were polar opposites. I really must go.”

Meg went to look for Jackson to find out what in the world Elizabeth had been talking about. Unfortunately, she learned he’d left with Ross and Amelia, whose baby was due in a couple weeks. Hope and Jeff were following, so Meg set out for home. She turned at the front door, looked at the magnificently terrible house and vowed never to set eyes on it again.

Meg was up bright and early the next morning and found Jackson on the front porch of the foreman’s cottage nursing a cup of coffee and staring into space.

“You look as if you’ve lost your last friend, son.”

“Actually it was one I guess I never had,” he replied. “I’m tired of being disappointed in people, you know.”

“And hurt by people? One young lady in particular?”

“Elizabeth Boyer is no different than any of the rest. I speculate that it’s some weird gene passed to me that makes me seek out women who think I’m some sort of walk on the wild side, but then they turn around and head back where they came from, to a world I don’t even want to deal with.”

Meg raised an eyebrow and leaned over the porch rail. “That made about as much sense as what Elizabeth said last night.”

That perked him right up. “You talked to Elizabeth last night?”

Meg walked onto the porch and sat in the rocker next to her son. “Just before she left. You know, when I gave you into the Altons’ care, I assumed one of the many lessons they’d teach you is that you don’t take a young woman somewhere then leave her to her own devices.”

“It was her car. I was the one looking for a ride home.”

“She was in tears, Jack. I expected better of you and I told you she’s a lot more fragile than she appears.”

“So she blamed me?”

“On the contrary. She blamed herself.”

“And she should. She’s also every bit as snobby and class-conscious as her parents. Except she told me she thinks judging people by their bank balance and lineage is wrong. So she knows they’re wrong and doesn’t have the strength to go against them. She allows herself little rebellions but she’ll only go so far.”

“Told you all that, did she?”

Jack frowned even more. “Well, no. But she nearly shoved me in a fountain because I kissed her.”

“And
that
tells you she thinks you aren’t good enough for her?” Meg shook her head. “She said you didn’t understand, and it appears you don’t.”

“She acted as if she were afraid I’d contaminate her.” Jack stormed, clearly insulted.

Meg might have smiled if the picture of Elizabeth she’d been building in her mind hadn’t just had the color of fear added to it, turning it a little ugly and tragic.

“I think you better think about her reaction. And ask yourself why you jumped to the conclusion that she was rejecting you because of your social status and not for something she has no control over. I saw a heartbroken young lady last night who was worried she’d hurt you, and not one who cast off an inconvenience.”

Jack didn’t even hear his mother leave because he was so deep in thought. He looked up, and she’d melted away almost as if she hadn’t been there offering him advice. He forced himself to think about why he’d thought Elizabeth was rejecting him because of her parents. And he didn’t like the conclusion he came to. He was giving the motives of the women in his past to Elizabeth. He’d certainly gotten angry enough when he’d thought she was judging him on the actions of his predecessor at Laurel Glen. But all she had really done was apologize.

I can’t. I’m sorry. I wish I could be different but I can’t—

Maybe he should have asked what she’d been about to say instead of jumping in to prevent what he’d judged would be hurtful words. Maybe he should ask now.

He looked at his watch. He was supposed to transport Ross’s Prize, the big stallion Ross would ride in the Graystone Cross-country, to the event grounds. He’d take a look around to see if she was there.

And ask her what he should have asked last night.