Reckless Moon (5 page)

Beth’s father turned back to face them. “I know that,” he said coldly to Bram. “But my daughter had to offer you some encouragement. This situation doesn’t look like rape to me.”

“Wait,” Bram began, but Beth’s father held up his hand to forestall argument. Beth, belting her robe, could see Bram decide that he would only make the situation worse by contradicting Carter Forsyth.

“I want you to leave this house,” Beth’s father said to Bram. “I am bitterly disappointed in you, Curtis. I invited you here, and this is how you take advantage of my hospitality. It seems that my late wife’s affection for you was misplaced. I never put much stock in what was said about you, but it now appears that I should have listened.”

“Daddy, that isn’t fair,” Beth protested, but Bram reached back to squeeze her arm, silencing her.

“I’ll go,” Bram said to her father, his mouth tight with some unnamed emotion. “But I want to talk to Beth first. Alone.”

“Absolutely not,” Carter fumed, reddening.

“I insist,” Bram said in a low tone that indicated he meant it.

Carter blinked, and then, to Beth’s amazement, nodded. She had never seen him back down to anyone before.

“I’ll be right outside the door,” he said to Beth in parting.

Bram turned to Beth immediately and enfolded her in his arms.

“Mouse, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I am so sorry.”

Beth burrowed into him, drawing sustenance from his strength.

“Beth, listen to me,” he went on. “You are not to blame for this. I led you into it. I should be shot for putting you in this position.”

Beth didn’t answer, her horror at her father’s reaction fading in the warmth and security of Bram’s embrace.

“I don’t want you to feel guilty about this. Do you understand?” He held her off to look into her face.

Beth nodded, lost in his eyes.

He pulled her close again, stroking her hair. “Oh, baby, listen to me. Don’t let your father make you feel ashamed. Your feelings are normal and healthy and one day you’re going to be a fantastic lover for some lucky man.”

“I wanted him to be you,” Beth murmured against his shoulder.

She felt his lips in her hair. “No, no. I’m glad in a way that your father came in when he did. He stopped something I shouldn’t have started. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be wonderful for you some time in the future with a man you love.”

“I love you,” she said. “It can happen this fast, I know it can.”

He went still, and then his arms tightened. “Beth,” he said, a catch in his voice. “How young you are, and how fresh. I’d give anything to regain the innocence you’re so eager to lose.” He pried her arms loose from his neck and tilted her chin with his hand, forcing her to look at him.

“Beth, I have to go. I don’t want to, but I can’t damage your relationship with your father any more. Are you going to be all right?”

“Yes,” she replied. “But won’t I see you again, can’t I write to you?”

He shook his head. “It’s best to let it go.” He smiled charmingly, and her heart turned over. “I’m too old for you, you know.”

“I’ll hurry if you’ll wait.”

He closed his eyes, and Beth saw his indecision. But then he opened them, and she realized that this time good judgment had triumphed over emotion. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice in one night.

“No, mouse. I’m trouble for you. Haven’t I proved it?”

“I don’t care if you’re trouble for me.”

“Well, I do. You’re a nice girl and you should steer clear of a guy like me.” He eyed her intently. “Be brave, now.”

Beth smiled shakily and straightened her shoulders.

“Good girl.” Bram ran his fingertip down her nose. “I think it will be very difficult to forget you,” he said grimly, “but for your sweet sake I am going to try.”

Beth’s eyes filled. She hadn’t cried at her father’s outrage, but the thought of Bram leaving reduced her to tears.

Bram touched her cheek, and a hot droplet splashed on his hand.

“Goodbye, mouse,” he said, and kissed her lips lightly. Then he picked up his shirt, shrugged into it, and was gone.

Beth sank into a chair, drained.

After a few moments she became aware of the sound of low, male voices outside the door. Her father and Bram, probably. She didn’t want to think about it.

Time passed, and she didn’t move until the door opened and Mindy entered, her eyes wide.

“What’s going on?” she asked in hushed tones. “I saw your father and Bram Curtis talking in the hall, and your father looked wild. Did you meet him, by the way? Bram, I mean. Isn’t he the most wickedly attractive man? He was at our house the other night. I practically sprained myself trying to get him to notice me, but he spent the whole time talking to my father about tobacco blight, or some damn thing...”

Mindy trailed off as she realized Beth wasn’t listening to her.

“Beth. What’s the matter? Did something happen?”

Beth sighed. Mindy would plague her until she answered her question, so she gave her friend an abbreviated version of the evening’s events.

Mindy whistled at the conclusion. “Bram Curtis! You lucky dog!” Then her expression changed as she considered the other aspect of the situation. “Your father is going to kill you.”

Beth threw her a dirty look. “Get out of here, Mindy,” she said. “My dad will be back in a minute, and I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.”

Mindy didn’t need to hear anything more. “Call me tomorrow,” she said over her shoulder, and left Beth alone.

A few minutes later the door opened again to admit Carter Forsyth, and Beth steeled herself to deal with the results of her interlude with Bram.

Her father announced that she would leave for boarding school immediately. Even though it was the middle of the summer, Carter knew a school that kept open a wing of the dormitory for foreign students who lived on campus year round, and Beth could be installed there in a matter of days.

Beth saw no reason to contest the plan. She wanted to get away from her father; she knew that after this incident his restrictions would be even more oppressive than ever. A change might do them both good.

And until the night of Marion’s reception, she never saw Bram again.

CHAPTER 3

The next morning, Beth was awakened by the sound of the doorbell. The cleaning crew had arrived. She left them to their work and went upstairs to shower and change.

When she came back down the house was beginning to resemble its former status, and she went down the lane to get the mail. Her mouth went dry when she saw that it contained an eggshell colored vellum envelope from the Connecticut State Bar Association. She ripped it open quickly, scanned the first few lines, and then let out a whoop of glee. She had passed the bar exam and was now admitted to practice law in the state.

She looked around excitedly, and then experienced the deflation common to all those who receive good news alone: There was no one to tell. She ran inside to call Mindy, and as she approached the phone it rang.

“Hello?” she said, her attention still focused on the letter in her hand.

“Hi,” Bram’s voice said, and the folded sheet slipped through her fingers. “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me.”

Beth stared at the tile floor, wracked by indecision. She wanted to go more than anything, but last night had taught her that Bram still exercised the same fascination, still had the power to hurt her and turn her life upside down. If she were going to live here and work here, it would be best to avoid him.

“I don’t think so, Bram,” she heard herself saying stiffly, and then winced at the starkness of her reply.

There was a silence, and then a short bark of laughter. “I see that the passage of time has managed to tarnish the brightness of my appeal.”

Hardly that, Beth thought. “I’m busy,” she added lamely.

She could hear his sigh over the line. “Maybe you’ll change your mind if I tell you it isn’t entirely a social occasion. The fact is, I need a lawyer, and I thought you might be willing to represent the company.”

Beth bit her lip. He certainly knew how to make things difficult. Curtis Broadleaf generated a lot of legal work, and she would be an idiot to turn him down.

“Of course,” he went on, “if you’re booked too solid to take on any clients...”

Beth made a wry face at the receiver. He knew she was just getting started. What a schemer he was; she was almost tempted to tell him to take his business elsewhere.

“What about Don Matheson?” Beth asked, naming the lawyer who had always handled Bram’s father’s affairs. “Isn’t he still with you?”

“Yes, but I’ve been going over the books, and I’m not too satisfied with the way he’s been handling things,” Bram answered.

Beth was silent, hesitating.

“Did I hurt you so badly that you won’t even see me in a professional capacity?” Bram asked quietly.

“Where do you want to go?” Beth inquired, accepting the challenge he’d offered by taking such a personal tack. She would show him that she could deal with him on a business level; he wasn’t going to get her to admit that there was anything more involved.

“How about the Signature?” Bram asked. It was a downtown Hartford restaurant, located in the Civic Center. It was a bit fancy for discussion purposes, but Beth didn’t feel like debating the point.

“All right,” she agreed.

“What time shall I pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you there,” Beth responded quickly. She didn’t want this to take on the semblance of a date. “About seven-thirty, okay?”

“Fine,” Bram answered, his neutral tone revealing nothing.

“Bring along any information you think might be pertinent,” Beth added, to enhance the professional flavor of the encounter.

“Right, counselor,” Bram said abruptly. “See you then.” The line went dead.

* * *

Beth took a lot of time deciding what to wear that night. She told herself that it was just another dinner meeting with a client, and she had had enough of those while she was working as an intern at a Boston legal firm. But this client was Bram, and she wavered between a steadfast refusal to dress for him and the temptation to select her most flattering outfit and look her best.

To her own disgust vanity won, and she emerged from her bedroom at seven o’clock dressed in a royal blue silk shirtwaist that enhanced her eyes and the creamy blush on her light skin. Her hair was pulled back into a topknot and then cascaded to her shoulders, revealing pearl earrings. A camel bag and matching sling-back pumps completed the ensemble. While Beth knew she wasn’t overdressed for the occasion, she also knew that she had devoted more care to her toilette than usual. She shrugged lightly as she made her way outside to her car. She wasn’t sixteen anymore, and her father wasn’t going to punish her for displaying an interest in the black sheep of the Curtis family. She was on her own.

The drive to Hartford took about twenty-five minutes, and she was right on time as she approached the attendant inside the lounge of the restaurant.

“I’m meeting Mr. Curtis,” she said, and was led to a table for two by the window. Bram rose at her approach.

He was dressed in a charcoal gray lightweight jacket that called attention to his dark good looks, with pants of a lighter gray and an off-white shirt with a navy tie. The lamplight reflected the sheen of his gleaming black hair and the glint of his gold cufflinks. Beth looked around nervously. The atmosphere was a little too subdued and romantic for her comfort.

“You look very pretty,” Bram said as he pulled out her chair.

“Thank you,” she said properly, a grade schooler reacting politely to a teacher’s praise.

Bram didn’t miss the implication of her tone, and as if to demonstrate that his motives were exactly as represented, he put a file on the table in front of her the minute she was seated.

“Take a look at that,” he said, “and tell me if you think that Matheson has been giving my father’s company short shrift.”

Bram summoned the steward and ordered wine while Beth perused the file. After she had read the documents and asked Bram some pertinent questions she had to admit that she agreed with him.

“Will you take the account then?” Bram asked.

The waiter appeared to take their order, and after he left Bram eyed her expectantly. “Well?” he persisted.

Beth took a sip of the Chablis Bram had selected, and discovered that it was very good.

“I feel I should tell you that I’ve never done this type of work before,” Beth hedged. “The firm I clerked for handled mostly wills and divorces, that type of thing.”

“But you could do it, couldn’t you? With some research?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Beth replied warily.

“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming,” Bram said sarcastically. He reached over and closed the file in front of Beth, pulling it to his side of the table. “Forget it. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

Beth looked down at her linen napkin, saying nothing.

“You certainly have turned into the citadel of caution, haven’t you?” he went on acerbically. “Whatever happened to that enchanting teenager who grabbed for life with both hands?”