Judith Stacy (8 page)

“We’re having supper tonight with the Carmichaels,” Jana reminded him. “Don’t forget.”

“A supper with someone whose company I enjoy? How could I forget?” Brandon gave her a little grin and left.

A brisk knock sounded on Brandon’s office door just as Noah Carmichael strode inside. Brandon crumpled the paper he’d been writing on and tossed it in the trash can, along with the dozen he’d already discarded.

Notes to himself, lists of things he should—and shouldn’t—do. Ideas. Plans. All with the sole purpose of making Jana happy and getting her to stay. The whole process was mentally exhausting. One thing was certain: courting a fiancée had been a hell of a lot easier than winning the heart of his own wife.

“Are you still going to look at those warehouses this afternoon?” Noah asked, stopping in front of Brandon’s desk. When he nodded Noah went on. “Want some company?”

“Sure.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “You’re acting a little more agreeable today. Does this mean you and Jana are finally—”

“Shut up, Noah. It’s none of your business.”

“Ah, yes. There’s the old Brandon Sayer we all know and love.” Noah chuckled. “I saw your lovely bride a few minutes ago.”

Brandon put down his pen and looked up at Noah. “This morning? Just now?”

He nodded. “She was going into the Morgan Hotel. I wanted to speak with her, be certain you two were coming to supper tonight, but she dashed inside before I caught up with her.”

Brandon frowned. He was certain Jana had said she intended to remain at home this morning. Something to do with the construction crew, wasn’t it? Yes, he was sure that was it.

He sat back in his chair. Why on earth would Jana go to the Morgan Hotel?

T
he Carmichael home was located in Bunker Hill, a community of lovely mansions owned by some of the city’s most important families. Jana watched out the carriage window as they pulled to a stop in front of the three-story gingerbread-trimmed home.

“I hope Beth won’t be upset with us,” she mused. They were late leaving home this evening, Jana oddly enough the first to be ready and waiting in the carriage for Brandon to join her.

“I doubt she will,” Brandon said as he exited the carriage, then offered his hand and assisted Jana to the ground.

The house windows glowed a welcoming yellow as they climbed the steps to the wide, sweeping porch. The front door opened and Noah waved them inside.

She’d been a bit uncomfortable at the thought of visiting the Carmichaels tonight. She remembered meeting Beth during the first three months she’d lived in the
city, and remembered her as one of the genuinely nice people she had met here. But she didn’t know Noah as well and suspected that, as a staunch friend of Brandon’s, he might harbor some ill feelings toward her for running out on their marriage.

But any such thoughts didn’t present themselves as Noah took Jana’s hand warmly. “It’s so good to see you again,” he told her.

Jana smiled and relaxed a little as she walked into the foyer and the men exchanged words and a handshake.

“Jana!”

Beth Carmichael swept toward them looking a bit flustered and harried, but wearing a bright smile. She wore a dark blue gown; tendrils of her brunette hair curled about her round face.

“Jana, I’m so glad you’re here!” Beth took both of Jana’s hands. “I told Noah he absolutely must deliver my invitation and see that you two came to supper immediately. I’m so glad you could come tonight.”

Jana’s heart warmed at her enthusiastic welcome and she couldn’t help but smile in return. “Thank you so much for inviting us.”

“Come into the parlor,” Beth insisted, drawing Jana alongside her, leaving the men to follow.

Jana gazed around at the marble entryway, the tasteful furnishings. “Your home is lovely.”

“Look, Jana,” Brandon said. “They even have walls.”

Jana smiled at his good-natured joke, but Beth looked confused.

“Jana has several renovation projects underway at home,” Brandon explained. “I’m sure it will all turn out fine in the end, but right now, we’re missing several walls.”

Beth’s eyes widened and she turned to Jana. “You knocked out walls?”

She nodded. “Yes, but then I decided to put them up again.”

“Oh, my…” Beth pressed her lips together and gazed thoughtfully around the foyer. “Perhaps I should think about doing something like that.”

“Not right now,” Noah said and slipped his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I think the construction project you have underway now is quite enough.”

Beth blushed and touched her palm to her belly. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Jana gasped. “Are you…?”

Beth beamed. “Yes.”

“Oh! How wonderful!” Jana couldn’t resist giving Beth a hug. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you.”

Noah tilted his head. “Why is it
I
never get any of the credit for my significant contribution to the project?”

Beth’s face flushed bright red and she swatted him on the arm. “Oh, hush.”

“Have you started on the baby’s room yet?” Jana asked.

“Would you like to see it?”

“Of course.”

In the nursery on the second floor, Beth went into great detail about her plans for the suite. Under con
struction now, wallpaper rolls and paint cans cluttered the rooms along with sawhorses and tools left behind by the carpenters.

“I’m going to put this on the walls in here where the baby will sleep,” Beth explained, holding up a sample of wallpaper. She flipped through the pattern book. “But in the playroom next door, I’m going to use this one.”

Jana eyed the yellow ducks and fluffy lambs. “It’s perfect.”

Beth gestured toward the wall. “Then over there, I’m going to—”

“All right, all right, you don’t have to finish this room tonight,” Noah said as he and Brandon walked into the room. “Supper’s ready.”

Beth smiled up at him. “I’m just so excited.”

He slid his arm around her waist and gazed down at her, love burning in his eyes. “Come have your supper. You have to keep up your strength.”

“Yes, of course. Let’s go eat.” Beth left the room on her husband’s arm, leaving Jana and Brandon in the half-finished nursery.

Yet the joy which the new life that was destined to occupy this room would bring to Beth and Noah was lost on Jana. Brandon, too, she thought. Standing alone in the room, the uncertainty of their own future was too much to bear. Jana saw the same in Brandon’s expression.

“We’d better go,” she said quietly.

Brandon nodded and they left the nursery together.

Supper was an informal affair, just the four of them, so the usual gathering in the parlor and procession to the dining room was unnecessary. They sat around the table that managed to seem cozy even with the china, crystal and fine linens.

“Jana, has Aurora Chalmers put you to work yet?” Beth asked, as the servants moved silently around the room. “Brandon, you know Mrs. Chalmers, don’t you?”

“Yes. Unfortunately,” he responded. “The woman who always wants her name in the newspaper.”

Jana knew the woman well also, even after so brief a time in the city. Mrs. Chalmers headed up nearly every charitable function in Los Angeles, more out of a desire to see her name in print than from a devotion to worthy causes. Without a doubt, she was the grand dame of polite society, and her approval on a project was mandatory if it had any hope of succeeding.

“Actually,” Jana said, “I’ve been invited to have tea with her later this week. I’m sure she’ll want to assign me to some sort of charitable committee.”

“You should work at the women’s refuge,” Beth said. “That’s where I donate my time.”

“But just for a while longer,” Noah was quick to say. “You have to take it easy now.”

Beth gave him a sweet smile.

“What’s the women’s refuge all about?” Jana asked.

“It was begun about a year ago by Amanda Hastings, Mrs. Nick Hastings. They’re neighbors of yours,” Beth said. “She started it as a shelter for women with chil
dren who have been abandoned by their husbands or left widowed.”

“Sounds as if it’s a very worthwhile cause,” Jana said.

“Oh, it is,” Beth agreed. “Amanda’s done a marvelous job with it. There’re rooms for the women and children to live in, and schooling for the women so they can find jobs. The refuge has a playroom for the children, an infirmary, a kitchen and dining room. Almost everything you can think of.”

“Has Mrs. Hastings lost interest in the project?” Jana asked.

“Oh, no.” Beth blushed another time. “She’s expecting. Due in only a few weeks, I believe.”

“So be careful if you decide to work there,” Noah said with a devilish grin. “Every woman who goes in the place winds up in the family way.”

Jana felt Brandon’s hot gaze on her from across the table, but she turned away, unable to meet his eye.

They finished supper and Jana and Beth chatted in the parlor while the men went elsewhere.

“I wish you’d think about working at the women’s refuge,” Beth said. “I haven’t been feeling well, with the baby on the way, and it’s such a good cause. Will you think about it?”

Jana hesitated to commit. In her heart, she knew she wouldn’t be in town for more than a month, so she didn’t want to take on so much that she left a vacuum in the wake of her departure. Yet it was certainly a worthwhile cause, one she’d like to devote her time to.

“Yes,” Jana said. “I’ll think about it.”

Soon after, they left the Carmichaels with thank-yous, hugs, and promises to get together again soon. On the carriage ride home, Brandon sat in the seat across from Jana, silent in the darkness. Had it been anyone else, she might have thought he’d dozed off. She knew Brandon better. He was probably thinking about business. But when the carriage passed beneath a gaslight and she caught a glimpse of him, she realized he was looking at her breasts.

He walked her to the door of her bedchamber, as he had the night before, then lingered, making her wonder if he’d kiss her again. All the talk tonight of babies seemed to have had an effect on him, though she couldn’t say exactly what it was.

But at her door he simply told her good-night and walked down the hallway to his own bedchamber. Jana went inside her room, dropped her handbag on the bureau and took off her hat.

Something on her bed caught Jana’s gaze. A single yellow rose on her pillow. A folded note card lay beside it.

Had Brandon left it for her? Was it the reason he’d been late coming to the carriage tonight? Had he slipped into her room and placed it on her bed so she’d find it when they returned?

Yet if it wasn’t Brandon, who could it be? Jana hardly knew what to think.

She picked up the note card and saw Brandon’s large, bold handwriting. Inside, he’d written: I want you in my life/For now and always/Forever my wife.

It was the worst poem she’d ever read, yet tears swelled in her eyes. Brandon had written her a poem. And left it with her favorite yellow rose.

Emotion tightened her throat. She turned toward the connecting door to his bedchamber, a door that had always been open between the rooms during the first three months of their marriage, yet remained closed tight since her return.

She should thank him for the rose, for the poem. Even though it was late and it could wait until morning, Jana wanted to do it now.

But opening their connecting door wasn’t a step she was ready to take. Jana slipped into the hallway and down to his bedchamber. She knocked gently and the door opened so quickly she wondered if he’d been waiting for her arrival.

Brandon looked out at her, tall and handsome in the soft light. He’d taken off his jacket and necktie, and opened his shirt collar. Dark, coarse hair curled over the top of his shirt and she glimpsed a wedge of his white cotton undershirt. His chest beneath it was strong and hard, taut with muscles.

And why wasn’t she sharing her bed with him now?

Jana pushed the thought from her head, fearful that it had shown in her expression.

“Thank you for the rose,” she said, forcing her gaze onto his face, forbidding it to drop lower. “And the poem.”

He shrugged as if a little embarrassed. “I’m not much of a poet.”

“It was beautiful,” she said, because, really, it was.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Jana couldn’t think of anything else to say, yet didn’t want to leave. Brandon seemed to be scouring his thoughts for a topic of conversation too.

Finally, he said, “Are you thinking of helping out at the women’s refuge?”

“Do you think it would be all right?” she asked. A woman wouldn’t consider taking on even volunteer work without the approval of her husband. Though Jana had lived apart from him for so long and made all her own decisions, asking Brandon seemed the right thing to do.

“You’d be perfect for it,” Brandon told her. “They would be lucky to have you.”

She smiled, pleased to hear him say he thought her competent. So different from the first three months of their marriage.

“Noah and Beth seemed happy about the baby,” Brandon said. He drew in a breath. “I’d like for us to have a child together…when things straighten out.”

Jana’s breath caught. She glanced away. “Well, good night.”

She turned and headed toward her bedchamber.

“Jana?”

She looked back. Brandon had stepped into the hallway and was watching her closely. She didn’t know what to make of it.

“I meant to ask you,” he said. “How did your meeting go with the construction foreman this morning?”

“Fine,” she said. “He understands what I want and assured me things would be handled accordingly.”

“Did your meeting last all morning?”

Jana’s breath caught. “Most of the morning.”

“I see.” Brandon gazed at her for another long moment, then disappeared into his room.

Jana hesitated, her heart thumping harder, then hurried into her room and closed the door.

A
simple luncheon. That’s all it had been. Surely…

Brandon paced outside the doorway of the storage room off the kitchen that Jana had resigned him to while renovations continued on his study. He couldn’t bring himself to go inside the tiny, airless room. Just as he couldn’t go to his office downtown this morning, or even leave the house.

The situation he’d wrestled with since yesterday was too big.

When Noah had told him that he’d witnessed Jana going into the Morgan Hotel, Brandon had figured it was for a luncheon. Women did that sort of thing all the time. Luncheons, teas, social gatherings. It was how they spent their days, how they planned community functions and charitable events. Perfectly innocent.

Yet Brandon couldn’t get off his mind what Noah had
said. He kept imagining the worst. Jana in an affair with another man. The thought sickened him.

He had no reason to doubt her. No proof, not even any evidence. Jana had always been faithful to him in the past.

But she had left him. And she’d never told him exactly what had gone on in Europe. She’d denied him his husbandly rights and barred him from her bedchamber.

Brandon rubbed his forehead. All he had to do was ask her. Confront her. Demand to know what, exactly, she’d been doing at the Morgan.

But if he asked her, would she interpret it as an accusation? If it wasn’t true, would the implied insult be just the excuse she’d been looking for to leave him again?

Brandon’s hand closed into a fist. If he asked and she confirmed it was true, he’d be forced to confront the man. That suited him fine. He’d wanted to hit something for a while now.

But he was only borrowing trouble. Brandon bit off a curse, knowing that he had nothing but his own suspicion and
that
he’d pulled out of the air. And didn’t he have his hands full already just dealing with reality?

“Hell…”

Brandon snatched up his satchel from the corner of the little room and strode through the house to the sitting room that Jana always used. He found her on the settee surrounded by pattern books, balancing a tablet on her lap.

“Finished your work already?” she asked, gazing up at him.

He’d told her at breakfast this morning that he in
tended to work at home for a while this morning; she didn’t seem to suspect that he’d been too suspicious of her actions to leave the house.

“I don’t know how the hell you expect me to work in that broom closet you call a study,” Brandon grumbled.

“So you’re going to your office in town?”

Did she sound anxious? Hoping he would leave?

Brandon shook the thought from his head.

“No. I’m not leaving,” he told her.

Brandon grasped the small writing desk in the corner and dragged it across the room to the window. Then he took a side table and pulled it alongside.

“Charles!” he bellowed. “Charles, get in here!”

Jana got to her feet. “Brandon, what on earth are you doing?”

“I’m working in here,” he told her. “Charles!”

“In
here?
But you can’t—”

“Yes, sir?” Charles dashed into the room, obviously as unaccustomed to hearing Brandon shout as Jana was.

“Go into my study and find my chair. My comfortable chair,” Brandon said. “It’s under all those shrouds, somewhere. And tell some of those workmen to bring it in here.”

“Yes, sir,” he answered, and hurried away.

“But, Brandon,” Jana said, “you can’t work in here.”

He opened his satchel and unloaded the ledgers. “Why not?”

“Because
I’m
working in here.” She gestured to the pattern books piled up around her.

“Don’t worry,” Brandon told her. “You won’t disturb me.”

“But—”

Charles hustled into the room again, taking great care to direct the two workmen who carried Brandon’s chair. The butler cautioned them about bumping the other pieces of furniture, then had them place it just so behind the little writing desk.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” Charles asked, as the workmen left the room.

“No. That’s all,” he said. “Thank you.”

Charles hurried away.

With a nod of satisfaction, Brandon took off his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair, then sat down.

“You’re not actually going to work in here, are you?” Jana asked, walking over.

“Is there some reason you don’t want me here?” he countered.

“Well, no, not really…I suppose.”

A less than convincing response. Was there a reason for it? Brandon wondered again, then hated himself for his suspicion.

“What are you doing, anyway?” he asked, gesturing to the wallpaper sample books on the settee.

“Several of the guest bedchambers upstairs have yet to be decorated,” Jana explained.

Brandon shrugged. The doors to all the rooms upstairs remained closed, except for his and Jana’s now that she’d returned. He knew furniture had been se
lected for the rooms and moved into them fourteen months ago, but hadn’t bothered to notice what else still needed to be accomplished.

“I want to finish the rooms,” Jana said.

“All of them?” Brandon asked. The suite of rooms on the back of the house flashed into his mind. The nursery. Empty, now. Always to be that way?

Last night at supper Noah and Beth Carmichael had certainly seemed happy with each other, with their lives and their upcoming arrival. Would he and Jana ever find that same happiness? Could he figure out the key to making Jana stay with him before these four weeks were up?

Right now, she didn’t even seem to want him working in the same room with him.

“Excuse me, madam,” Charles’s voice intoned from across the room. “You have a visitor. Mr. McDowell.”

A little wave of guilt washed through Brandon. He’d been suspicious of Jana’s motives today, and all along she’d been waiting here for the decorator to arrive and continue the work on the upstairs rooms. Work Brandon had insisted was her duty and responsibility upon her return.

Feeling a little ashamed of himself, Brandon unloaded the rest of his things from his satchel as Jana left the room. He settled behind the desk and opened one of the ledgers. Minutes ticked by.

He expected them to return here to look over the wallpaper samples. Where were they? Brandon drummed
his fingers on the desk, then closed the ledger and went to find them.

Voices drew him to the drawing room just down the hall from the foyer, a place where guests were customarily received. The tone of the conversation he overheard as he approached caused Brandon to stop outside the doorway. He leaned in a little, just enough to see Jana and Mr. McDowell standing in the center of the room.

“As I’ve already told you,” Jana said, “I did not ask you to come over today, Mr. McDowell. Your services are not needed.”

“But
of course
they are,” the man answered.

McDowell’s dress was impeccable, his hair slicked carefully in place, his mustache waxed to perfection. He’d come highly recommended when Brandon had begun construction on the house. Yet there was something about the man that never sat quite right with Brandon.

“Your husband advised me of your
return
,” McDowell said, “He instructed me to come here to see to the
rest
of the decorating. I’ve been here several times
already,
Mrs. Sayer, and frankly I’m a bit irked by your refusal to let me get on with my work. It’s only your
husband’s
reputation that keeps me from abandoning you completely.”

Jana drew herself up. “Once again, Mr. McDowell, let me say that I do not require any assistance on your part. I am perfectly capable—”

“Oh,
really
.” McDowell laughed, touching a hand to his chest. “How sweet, my dear girl, that you think you
can attempt to take on a project of this nature. It’s priceless, really.”

“Mr. McDowell—”

“Stand aside, dear. I have a
great
deal to do and I doubt your husband would approve of you wasting my time with your
delusions,
” McDowell said, brushing past Jana.

Anger flared in Brandon. Only a little earlier today he’d wanted to hit something. Now seemed like the perfect time.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded, striding into the room.

“Mr. Sayer,” McDowell crooned, sounding relieved to see him. He waved his hand in the general direction of Jana. “This dear little wife of yours is in need of a good
talking to
on your part, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

Brandon glanced at Jana. Her back was rigid, her jaw set, her mouth pressed in a thin line. This certainly wasn’t the timid, naive bride he’d married. This was a grown woman, one who knew exactly what she wanted. Where had Jana gotten this determined streak?

And why did he find it so appealing? Brandon wanted her, right there on the spot.

“Now,” McDowell said, “if you’ll come with me, Mr. Sayer, we can go over all the work that remains to be done.”

“Mr. McDowell.”
Jana flung the words across the room. “I have already told you your services are not required.”

The decorator didn’t bother to turn and look at her. Instead, he gave her words a dismissive shrug and said to Brandon, “Shall we proceed?”

Was this the sort of thing Jana had to deal with when McDowell had been working on the house before? Brandon wondered. Had he been this condescending, this rude to her?

Jana’s confrontation with the cook a few days ago came to mind. Mrs. Boone had been just as disrespectful to her. Had Jana’s wishes been completely disregarded by her also?

Brandon looked at McDowell. The man’s brows rose, as if he was wondering what was taking so long. Then Brandon turned his gaze on Jana. She didn’t move. Just stood rigid. Waiting.

Brandon turned to McDowell. “You’re fired.”

“What?”
His face reddened and his cheeks puffed out like a toad. “I—but—you—”

“If my wife says your services aren’t needed,” Brandon told him, “then they’re not needed.”

“Well!”
McDowell drew himself up, then stuck out his chin and left the room in a huff.

Brandon walked over to where Jana stood. “Is that the sort of thing you had to put up with when he was doing the decorating before?”

“Yes,” she said, finally relaxing her stance a bit.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

She shrugged. “You were gone, busy all the time, and…well, I didn’t really know how to tell you.”

“I’m sorry,” Brandon said softly.

She gave him a weak smile.

“Would you like me to fire Mrs. Boone also?” he asked.

Jana’s smile widened, and it pleased Brandon to no end that he’d elicited it from her.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Jana said. “Mrs. Boone and I are learning to get along.”

“Hire whomever you want to help with the decorating,” Brandon said. “Or handle it yourself. You’re doing a fine job of it. I’m sure my yellow study will turn out well.”

“Actually,” Jana said. “I was thinking of changing the color from yellow to something else.”

“Really?”

“How do you feel about lilac?”

Brandon looked at her. “Lilac will be perfect.”

Jana smiled. “Thank you for understanding about Mr. McDowell.”

“If you change your mind about me firing Mrs. Boone, just say so,” he offered. “Or any of the rest of the staff…or the entire staff. Whatever you want, Jana.”

“Thank you.” She laughed gently and walked away.

“Jana?”

She turned back.

“Were you involved with another man while you were in London?”

The stunned expression on her face caused Brandon’s stomach to knot.

“Were you?” he asked.

Jana shook her head. “No.”

“In Europe?”

“No.”

Brandon steeled himself. “And since your return?”

A wry smile quirked her lips. “After our three months of marriage, believe me, the very
last
thing I wanted was another man in my life.”

That
he believed.

“Fine, then,” he said, then felt guilty for his suspicion. “I’m sorry to ask, but—”

“It’s all right,” Jana said. “We were apart for a long time. And married for a very short time. I’m sure there’s a great deal we don’t know about each other.”

Brandon nodded. Jana left the room and he stood there thinking about what she’d said.

And what she hadn’t said.

When he’d asked her about an involvement since her return to Los Angeles, she hadn’t given him an answer at all.